AUTHOR'S NOTE: Aly is 3-ish/ 4 years old, Sam is 12, and Dean is 16. This story references the fic "Alyson Winchester: Unconnected Drabbles", in particular the last short story in that fic, where Alyson uses bad language. This fic is also inspired by my experiences as a Preschool teacher. Contains disciplinary spankings of child and teen, with hand and hairbrush, and cursing, because Dean. If you don't like it, don't read it.

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John walked into the preschool and down the hall to his daughter's classroom. When he entered the room, he noticed a small group of children seated on the floor in a half circle, facing away from the door. Their attention was on the woman sitting on a chair in front of them, reading a picture book out loud.

The teacher, Miss Nancy, was leaning on the desk near the door. She approached him holding a clipboard. He smiled and nodded in greeting as she handed it over to him, and he found Alyson's name towards the bottom and scrawled his initials on the checklist.

"Mr. Winchester, ah, I need to talk to you for a moment," Miss Nancy folded her hands together.

"Yes?" He handed the clipboard back and she tucked it under her arm.

She seemed apologetic. "Alyson had a...well, she went to the Time Out chair today." The Time Out chair was right by the teacher's desk, where the kid was supposed to 'Take a Time Out to think about their behavior' when they had misbehaved.

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows, wondering what happened. Alyson was usually well behaved and obedient.

The teacher looked across the room at the children. "Yes, she...there was an incident during free play where another child kept taking things from the others, and Alyson got upset with him. She said to him, and I quote, 'Quit being a little bitch'." Miss Nancy paused and turned her eyes back to him.

John struggled with his emotions for a moment, disbelief that Alyson would say that, and annoyance at his eldest, Dean, who often said that exact phrase to his younger brother.

She gave John an uncomfortable smile. "We had a...discussion about language, and I asked her where she heard that word from. She said... she didn't know, but I got the feeling…" She sighed. "Anyway, I didn't press her, but I explained that we don't use that kind of language here, that we're all friends and we use our words instead of name calling. So if you could talk to her and re-iterate that, that would be helpful."

"Yes, I will, and I'm sorry. She has two older brothers, teens, and they-well, you know." John's lips twitched.

She nodded. "I understand. At this age they copy their brothers and sisters." She turned and called, "Alyson, your father is here!"

Aly turned around and a big grin spread across her face when she saw John. She grabbed her backpack, and walked over to them slowly, her smile fading.

When she reached them, she looked at the ground, her finger in the corner of her mouth. "Hi, Daddy." Her voice was subdued.

"Alyson." He held his hand out to her, and she took it.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Alyson." Miss Nancy said.

"Bye." Aly's voice was still quiet.

Aly kept her head down as they walked out to the car, which was different. Usually she was cheerful and talking a mile a minute.

John opened the back door and helped her up into the car. She sat down in her car seat and he began to buckle her in.

He caught her eye, and her face crumpled. "Daddy I gotted in twouble!" She wailed.

"What happened?" He asked calmly. He wanted to hear her version of events, and it wouldn't do to act angry or disapproving just yet.

Tears spilled out of her eyes and tracked down her cheeks. She looked down at her hands. "I was pwayin' with cars an' bwocks in fwee pway an' Tommy kept gwabbin' stuff from evey-one. He gwabbed da pink twuck fwom Sky an' she didn't wike it."

"From Sky?" He dabbed at her cheek with his sleeve.

She nodded. "She's my fwen', an' I gwabbed it back an' tol' him, I said-" She lowered her head even more. Her voice was a whisper. "I said, quit bein' a widdle bish."

That phrase came out of Dean's mouth so often that it could almost be considered his catchphrase. Hearing it come out of Alyson's mouth was almost too much, and John bit the inside of his cheek. "Oh?" He fixed her with what he hoped was a stern look. "And where did you get that from?"

"Uh-" She looked to the side. "I-I dunno."

He spoke just firmly enough that she would know he was serious. "I dunno is not an answer, young lady, and you know that. I'll let you think about where you heard it on the way home, and we'll talk more when we get inside."

As John drove to the small house they were renting, he thought about his children. Dean had changed a lot over the summer, he'd gained a lot of confidence. John had been allowing him to go on more hunts, and had also taken Dean to get his "official" driver's license. The fact that John was now allowing Dean to drive the Impala on his own had also given Dean a major boost, and he used it to his full advantage with "chicks". And there were so many girls noticing him now, it seemed everywhere they went, they gazed after him or giggled to each other if he happened to notice and acknowledge them. Dean had a steady rotation of dates happening as well.

John knew that over-confidence was a dangerous thing for a soldier and especially for a hunter. Because fighting supernatural creatures was never a sure thing, there were so many out there that you couldn't quite be sure what you were up against. It was better to be confident in your abilities but also cautious. Dean had actually started to argue with John on their last hunt, fortunately John was able to shut him down quickly with a bark of "Follow my orders, Dean!" Plus, the kids that Dean had chosen to hang around with were the "bad kids" who ditched school on the regular, threw attitude with every adult, and swore constantly. Dean knew not to give John a lot of attitude, but lately, the influence of his friends was creeping into his behavior more and more. All of that, coupled with Dean's swagger and self-assurance, did not bode well. It was time to take the boy down a peg or two.

Alyson was changing too, she was still biddable, but she would get sassy every now and then. Probably because of the influence of her classmates at the preschool, from the stories she told it sounded like there were a couple of kids who were downright brats. And Alyson was copying their behavior and trying to see what she could get away with-and now, there was the cussing as well. She was going to learn that with John Winchester as her father, she couldn't get away with much.

Alyson was still quiet as John parked the car. He unbuckled the little girl and picked up her backpack. Once they were inside, he directed her to sit on the sofa, and then went looking for his eldest. He heard singing coming from the kitchen.

Dean was leaning down to look into the open fridge. "-ready for love, yeah I'm ready for love-"

John walked up behind him quickly and swatted his butt, hard enough to impart a sting, and Dean jumped, hitting his head on the freezer handle.

"Ow! Shit, dude, what the hell-" he turned and saw John, and his face changed from annoyed to nervous. "Oh-hi, Dad."

John glared at him. "I'm not 'dude', Dean."

Dean reached back unconsciously to rub his behind. "Sorry, sir."

John pointed to the doorway. "Your sister got into trouble at preschool today, for using bad language. She 'doesn't know where she heard it', though. Why don't you come with me and you can help her figure it out."

He let Dean walk in front of him into the living room.

"Hey, short stuff." Dean said in a bright voice.

Aly looked nervous now.

John crossed his arms over his chest. "Alyson, tell your brother what you said to your classmate today."

"I, uh, I said- Tommy was bein' mean to eveyone, an' I said-" She lowered her head again. "'Quit bein' a widdle bish'."

Dean began to laugh and then choked on it. "Oh my Go- that's um, that's not good, kiddo." He coughed, trying to hide the grin behind his hand.

"You think this is funny?" John asked Dean sternly. He looked at Alyson, raising his eyebrows."What happened when you said that, Aly?"

The corners of her mouth pulled down. "I hadda sit in da Time Out chair an' Miss Nancy talked to me 'bout how we don't say fings wike dat to fwens, we use our nice words."

John shifted his gaze back to his son. "So, your little sister got in trouble at school for cursing… and she doesn't know where she heard that from. Do you know, Dean?"

"Uh-" Dean rubbed his hand over his face and straightened, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Well, um-" He lowered his head and stared at the floor, trying to compose himself.

John waited a beat. "Alyson, the boys have a rule that if they get into trouble at school, they get into trouble at home. And now that you're in preschool, I think that rule should apply to you too. You've earned yourself a spanking."

Her eyes got big. "But-but Daddy, I a-weady gotted in twoubul!"

Dean spoke up. "Okay look, it was me! She heard it from me, y'know, I can't help it, I know I run my mouth lot…" His face reddened and he rubbed the back of his neck.

"And we've had this discussion before, haven't we?" John said firmly. He turned to Aly. "What did I say, last time? Do you remember? I said you'd get more than a swat."

Tears spilled out of Alyson's eyes. "Daddy I don't wanna spankin'!"

"Dad-" There was desperation in Dean's voice. John knew that Dean was about to attempt to dissuade his father from providing consequences; he often did when his siblings got into trouble.

"Dean, since you can't watch your language, and it seems to be a big joke to you, now you get to watch your sister get punished for copying you. Maybe that will help you to remember not to swear any more." John walked over and sat next to Alyson on the sofa. He looked at her. "And I think we all know that you heard it from Dean, so you saying you didn't know is lying, isn't it? Are you supposed to tell lies?"

Alyson shook her head. "No, Daddy." Her lower lip wobbled.

"So you got into trouble at school, and you lied about it." He reached for her. "Come here."

She resisted a little bit, pulling back as he lifted her up, but once she was facedown over his lap, she stilled. He brought his large hand down once on her upturned bottom, and she shrieked and burst into loud sobs. He barely put any strength behind his hand as he landed three more swats on her tiny bottom- with her it was more about the fact that she was being punished than causing her pain.

"Owww Daddyyyy!" She howled. "I sowwy, I sowwyyyy!"

He paused. "Are you going to use bad language any more?"

"No Daddy!"

"Are you going to lie to me?"

"N-No!"

He lifted her up. "All right, it's done. Come here."

She knelt on his lap and threw her arms around his neck. "I sowwy I's bad, Daddy!"

He hugged her. "All right, shh, you're not bad. You did something wrong and you've been punished, and it's over. You're my good girl." He rubbed her back as she sobbed into his flannel.

He looked over at Dean, who had dropped his eyes to the floor, an uncomfortable look on his face. John instructed him, "Go to your room and wait for me, I'm not done with you."

Dean looked up at John, a sheen to his eyes. He swallowed uneasily. "Yessir."

It took another few minutes for Alyson to calm down. She snuggled into John's broad chest, fisting his flannel in her hand. He continued to rub her back soothingly. When her breathing had evened out to occasional sniffling, John looked down at her. "You want some juice?"

She sat up in his arms and nodded. "Yes pwease."

He carried her into the kitchen and cleaned her face with a paper towel, then set her down in a chair. He got out a small cup and poured her some apple juice. "I'll get dinner started after I deal with your brother." He told her, smoothing his hand over her hair.

"Okay, Daddy." She took a drink from her cup.

John went to his room to get something before going to the boys' room. He knocked and then opened the door.

Sam was sitting on his bed with books spread out around him and Dean was sitting at the head of his bed trying to look casual.

"Sam, finish your homework in the kitchen." John dismissed him.

Sam was all long limbs and attitude these days. "Aww man, do I have to?" He asked sulkily.

"I don't think Dean wants you in here watching while he gets his butt blistered." John replied.

Sam's eyes went big, and he began to gather up his books and supplies quickly.

Once he left, John shut the door firmly behind him and then turned to Dean, holding up what he had stopped to get from his room. It was an old wooden-backed hairbrush.

Dean saw it, and blushed bright red for a moment, and then the color drained from his face. The hairbrush had been reserved for serious offenses before the kids had become teenagers, when John had started using the belt. No doubt Dean was remembering the last time John had paddled his butt with the brush. Dean had been 11 years old, and there were a couple of kids who were spending the summer with their grandparents, who lived in their neighborhood. Not only were the kids chock full of attitude, they were into every kind of mischief there was. It started out innocuously- playing "ding dong ditch" and the like- and John and Mary had scolded Dean, and then lectured, and then grounded and spanked him. Dean's attitude grew with each incident, until the kids caught a neighbor's shed on fire. Dean was closed-mouth when asked about it, they all were, so John had sentenced him to nightly spankings until he would confess. After the third night, John brought out the hairbrush, and it took two nights of the hairbrush on Dean's bare bottom for him to confess. He hadn't done anything, he'd just been there watching when the other kids showed off the matches and firecrackers that they'd stolen. John and Mary had already told Dean he wasn't allowed to be with those kids anymore, so Dean got a couple more spankings for disobeying.

"Uh-" Dean swallowed again nervously.

John walked over and sat down on the end of the bed. He patted his thigh. "Come here, Dean. Over my knee."

"Daaad-" Dean was blushing again.

"I think you need a reminder that you're still a kid, and you can still get in trouble and be punished. I've had to talk to you more than once about your mouth, and I'm tired of it. Your brother and sister look up to you, and your cursing and sass sets a bad example. Come on, let's go." John pointed to the floor next to him.

Dean stood up and walked over to John's right side. "Pants down." John said gruffly.

"Dad!" Dean protested.

John looked at him. "I'm not messing around here." Dean shifted his weight, staring at the floor. "Do you want me to take down your pants? Because I will, and you won't like it." John's voice was severe.

Dean sighed and undid his jeans, pushing them down to his knees. Then he laid himself over John's legs, resting his torso on the bed. John reflected that Dean was probably too big for this position now, but he wanted to remind Dean that he wasn't a big shot, he was in fact, still a kid who had to follow rules and orders.

He set the brush next to Dean and put his arm across the boy's back. Then he began the spanking. Dean sucked in a quick breath but didn't move. John's technique with Dean was different than with Alyson- he'd hardly spanked the little girl at all, but now he landed blows with enough force that Dean was grunting every once in a while. Dean was stubborn and had a high pain tolerance- John had remarked to Mary more than once that Dean had a hard head and a hard ass- so you had to come on strong right from the beginning.

Once John had completed a full circuit of Dean's rear, he began again from the top, speeding up the blows and landing them a little harder. Dean was shifting every so often, but he was still quiet. John spent some time concentrating on the undercurve of Dean's ass and the crease where it turns into the thigh, and then he paused to shake out his hand.

He hooked his fingers into Dean's boxers and pulled them down to mid-thigh, and Dean stiffened and then bucked his torso. "Dad!" He protested, clenching his butt cheeks together.

"Settle down, young man. You've had this coming for quite a while." John reprimanded. He adjusted Dean on his thighs and replaced his arm across the boy's lower back. Then he began spanking again. John's open palm on Dean's bared bottom was louder, and it made John's hand sting more. Dean caught his breath once, twice, as John painted his skin a deeper red.

"Dad, m'sorry!" Dean said in a strangled voice. "M'sorry!"

"I'm glad to hear it," John said dryly. "I hope the next time you think about swearing, you remember your little sister getting a spanking for repeating language she heard from you, and you remember this as well." He picked up the hairbrush, and patted Dean's right cheek with it. Then he began to paddle Dean's butt with the heavy wooden implement. Dean sucked in a loud breath, and began to shift more often as the brush fell again and again. John concentrated on the undercurve and crease again, and the dam finally broke. He could see Dean's back shuddering and hear his breath hitching.

John finished up with a few random harder swats, and then tossed the brush onto the bed. He rubbed Dean's back. "It's over, champ." He said gently. He let Dean lay there until he got his sobs under control. Dean didn't like for anyone to see his tears.

Finally Dean had quieted enough that John drew his boxers up over his reddened butt. He helped Dean get up, and stood up as well, holding on to Dean's arm. "C'mere." John took the boy into his embrace, and Dean threw his arms around John and buried his face in John's flannel. Getting a spanking turned both boys into younger versions of themselves, seeking their dad's comfort afterwards, and John didn't mind it. Dean sobbed again once or twice as John soothed him and rubbed the back of his head.

Then Dean let go, and wiped his face with the hem of his t-shirt.

"I'm going to get dinner started, I'll let you get cleaned up." John told him.

"Yes sir. And Dad, I am sorry. I didn't think Aly would-that she'd get in trouble." Dean grimaced.

"Well, like I said, you remember what happened with her, next time."

Dean nodded, and John left the room.

Sam was sitting at the kitchen table, books spread out in front of him, with Aly on his lap. They were both holding pencils. Aly looked up as John walked over to them.

"Wook, Daddy, Sammy's hepin' me! I pwacticin' my witin'!" She held up the paper, which had a series of lines on it that looked like this: / l / L \ l \\ o / / \ l l

"Good job, kiddo." John ruffled her hair, and she grinned up at him.

"You're gonna need to move everything when it's time to eat." John told Sam.

"M' almost done anyways." Sam said. "Okay, Aly, lemme finish my Social Studies."

"Can I hep?" She asked.

"No, I just need to answer a couple questions." Sam scooted his chair back and set Alyson on the floor. He tore a piece of lined paper out of his notebook. "Here, you can keep practicing."

'Kay!" Alyson walked around the table and pulled the chair out, but she didn't get on it, she set the paper down on the seat and began to scribble.

A few minutes later, Dean came into the room, wearing sweatpants and a worn AC/DC t-shirt. "There's the Alybug!" He leaned down and scooped her up in his arms.

She shrieked and giggled as he held her up over his head. "Deeee-annnn! Put me dowwwwn!"

"Whoops!" He pretended to drop her, letting go of her body for a split second and then catching her, and she shrieked again and grabbed at him.

"All right, enough of that. Set the table, you two." John said over his shoulder.

Dean was holding Aly close, his forehead on hers. "M'sorry you got in trouble 'cause of me," he said quietly. "But you should know not to repeat anything I say by now."

Alyson put her arms around his neck. "S'okay, De. You still my bestest bwuddah."

"Hey!" Sam objected.

Alyson straightened and turned to look at him. "You my bes' bwuddah too, but De is dah bestest."

Dean chuckled and ruffled her hair. "Of course I am!" He said delightedly. "And don't you forget it, Sammy!"

"It's Sam," Sam said peevishly, slamming his binder closed. He stood up, shoving his books into his backpack, and threw Dean a dirty look.

Dean shifted Alyson onto his hip. "Aw, quit bein' a little bi-uh, I mean, cool it, man." Dean threw a quick glance at John.

Sam shouldered his backpack. "You're the one who needs to cool it, before you end up getting another spanking." He smirked.

Dean set Alyson on the floor and went for Sam. "Why you little-" He grabbed Sam in a headlock, and Sam's backpack thumped to the floor as the boys began to grapple.

Things were back to normal in the Winchester household.

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If this is your first time reading one of my fics, and you'd like to read more about Alyson and her life with the Winchesters, please check my page for more stories (and don't forget to leave a review!).