Spare The Rod – chpt 2
by: sifi.
--
"Go 'way runt," Dean said.
It's his voice but it's still not right... "Why?" he asked.
"Cause I said so," Dean returned without even looking up from the end of chapter problems that were his homework.
"What if I say, 'No'?" Sam asked leaning over his bowl of Spaghettios and lowering his face toward it, his lips sticking out as far as they could go to see if he could vacuum up the little round pasta bits while ignoring the spoon that sat waiting patiently to be used.
Wordlessly Dean picked up his homework and went into the bedroom closing the door behind him.
He hung his head as the door opened and his little brother climbed up onto the bed, then climbed up onto him, his pointy little knee hitting a bruise that hadn't started to clear up just yet.
"Ow! Son of a bitch Sam! That HURT!" he cried wondering if the pain that shot from the back of his hips through to his belly button was what it felt like to get stabbed. He rolled as his back bowed and the breath stole out of his lungs and before he knew it Sammy was on the floor looking up at him with big watery blue eyes and quivering lips.
"Sorry Dean..." the littlest Winchester breathed tremulously.
"Just leave me alone willlya?" Dean groaned, letting his head fall onto his history book while he gingerly rubbed the almost finally purple spot on his back from the heel of Miss McKetridge's shoe.
"I said I'm sorry Dean..." Sam got up and tried to approach the bed, "You used to be fun! But you're not anymore! You're just a big fat jerk and I'm not covering your chores anymore when you come home and go to sleep! And dad can go ahead and get mad at your for not doing YOUR JOB!"
"Sam..." Dean started but Sam stormed out of the room slamming the door behind him.
"Maybe it's better this way Sammy... then you won't end up like me," Dean sniffed then laid his head down on his book while sleep took him away.
--
"Where's your brother?" John asked setting the giant pizza down on the kitchen table while Sam manhandled the six pack of soda onto the counter, the congealing bowl of spaghettios forgotten on the coffee table.
"Sleeping..." he spat, "Again!"
John frowned, his eyes moving to the clock on the wall, it's not even six yet.
"Alright Sammy... what's going on between you two?" he asked.
He wasn't sure when it started, but he was fairly sure it'd been going on for at least a week. Dean was pushing Sam away which was strange enough on its own but every night, again, at least for the last week, when he got back to the apartment after his shift at the gas station, he'd find his eldest already in bed and his youngest up and watching TV.
"Dean's being a JERK all he wants to do is take baths and sleep and make sure his homework is done... he won't play with me anymore... and sometimes at Miss Andrea's he used to come in and watch cartoons while me and Stevie finished playing but now he won't even do that anymore!" he frowned, "and... I... I just wanted him to play with me..." he said with his mouth quivering as he remembered the twist of deep pain on his brothers' face when he looked up from the floor, "...and I said I was sorry but he just told me to leave him alone so that's what I'm doing!"
"Tell me about what happens when Dean picks you up from Miss Andreas," John invited while folding the top of the box under the pizza.
"Should I go get Dean?" Sam asked excitedly, "Sausage is his favorite...OOOOH there's pupproni too! How'd you do that?"
"I asked for it specially for us... just the way we all like it," John smiled rubbing his boys' hair before turning serious again, "Is Dean sleeping?"
Sam shrugged, "Maybe, maybe doin' homework, I don't care cause he told me to go away and I'm gonna do just what he says and I won't talk to him or anything then he'll be lonely and want to play with me again," he explained while piling several pieces of sausage pizza onto a paper towel before heading to the bedroom balancing the load carefully. "Ooooh soda!" he turned around putting the pizza down.
John watched, never ceasing to be amused by his littlest one as Sam laid a can of coke into a pouch he made of his shirt, then put the pizza slices on top of that and headed for the bedroom again.
"Dean! Dad brought us pizza! Just the way we ALL like!"
John chuckled at the boys' easy and forgiving nature. Rolling a slice up for himself he followed his little one to the bedroom to peek in on his oldest.
At the doorway he watched Sam carefully set the paper towel on the bed, right in front of Dean's face, then lay the can of soda by his hand before yanking and pulling on the blankets so he could lay them over his big brother.
He smiled and shook his head as his little one leaned in and kissed his big brothers' forehead, "Big jerk," he grumbled then skipped to the wall, turned off the light and closed the door.
"Okay Sammy, what's goin' on? Why is Dean sleeping so much do you think?" John asked.
"He had a sad tummy... but that was a long time ago," Sam shrugged, "He just wants to sleep and take baths and showers all the time but that's good cause Dean gets stinky fast..."
"How's school going for him?" John asked knowing full well that Dean was NEVER one to do homework if he could skate by without it. The kid had too much else to focus on, and when it came to studying he had a mind of his own, he'd study what he wanted, when he wanted it. In that way, Dean was very much like his father.
Sam shrugged swirling a long string of melted cheese around his finger, "I dunno."
John frowned, "Alright, listen kiddo... I got a trip I gotta go on this weekend, I'm leaving in the morning and should be back either late Sunday or by the time you get home on Monday. That gives you two school days, and two weekend days... I want you to do me a favor, find out if there's something bothering your brother okay?" He's only eight... what kind of problems does an eight year old kid have besides school... man don't tell me he's gonna need a tutor or something... he sighed inside and ruffed Sammy's mop again. "Can you do that?"
"Sure dad," he nodded flashing a glimpse of the dimples John seemed to have handed directly to him.
"Good man... I'll expect a full report on Monday."
"Sir yes sir!" Sam grinned pinching the toppings off another slice of pizza and stuffing it into his mouth.
--
"Dean hurry up! I gotta go!" Sam called urgently noting that dad hadn't even cleaned up his mess from last night before taking off this morning.
"Tie it off runt..." his big brother groaned listlessly through the door.
"I just gotta wee! I'll do it in the bathtub!"
Before his brother could protest again he turned the knob and lurched into the room, sliding quickly behind the shower curtain despite the fact that Dean wasn't using the toilet.
"Geez Sammy! Can't a guy have some privacy?" Dean growled, and for the first time in just over a month there was color in his voice.
"I told you I had to go!" Sam leaned forward and looked out into the room catching a glimpse of a deep purple bruise the size of a baseball just over the waistband of Dean's jeans, "Wow that's a bad one!" he breathed, "Did I do that?" he asked stepping out of the bathtub and heading for the sink.
"What?" Dean asked.
"Your uh oh, did I make that yesterday when I climbed on you?" he asked.
"It was there already," Dean shook his head, "You just hit it is all..."
"Does it hurt still?" Sam's face opened in wonder.
"Only when there's a runt's knee stuck in it," Dean shrugged.
"Where'd you get it?"
Dean shrugged but said nothing.
"Is that why you change in here now? Cause you didn't want me to see it?" Sam asked.
"Mmm hmm, that's why," Dean nodded.
--
"I have had ENOUGH of your sassy mouth mister! Now GET in there!" she screeched as she practically threw the young Winchester into the bathroom, the thick, springy wooden pointer stick slapping against her thigh as she stalked into the room behind him.
Without so much as a backward glance at the entirety of the class, who sat there with their mouths hanging open, a few of them already crying, she slammed the door.
"Now it's time you learn to show me a little respect!" she nearly howled, a rage like none of them had ever seen or heard before, obvious to even the most sheltered ear.
Freddie Martinez sat in the desk behind Dean's. He looked around, his eyes moving over those of his classmates, to the door, this 'golden opportunity' blatantly obvious to them all.
No one heard what the insane little boy named Dean Webster said, but they sure knew it made Miss McKetridge really really mad!
After everything he'd been forced to endure day in and day out for almost an entire month now, they were all sure that he would have learned his lesson and simply did nothing unless instructed to, school only lasted all day and all they had to do was get past third grade, when they got to the fourth grade they wouldn't have to deal with her anymore and it would be the next class's problem.
The air split with a sharp "CRACK!" followed by a 'yip' of surprise, then another "CRACK!" and nothing.
"Go!" Cheryl mouthed to Freddie, who looked at his classmates again, more of them nodding agreement with her than not. After all, if Dean hadn't turned around to lend the boy a pencil he never would have opened his mouth and gotten in trouble. Freddie should have known better than to be without a pencil on test day.
"Say you're sorry!" they heard her order from within the bathroom as Freddie slowly turned the knob and slid out into the hall where he took off at a dead run toward the principal's office.
"I said you say you're sorry..."
No one was sure he even said anything but there certainly came another "CRACK!"
Several more times that horrible whip-like "CRACK!" broke through the door that kept the young and recently silenced boy out of sight.
Young eyes jostled nervously from the bathroom door to the classroom door, waiting with shallow breaths for Freddie to return with an adult in tow, waiting for someone to finally catch the woman in the act. Each one of them grateful that they were NOT the one she was beating up, just in case whatever adult Freddie brought back didn't believe THEM and believed HER instead.
"Why you smart mouthed little bastard! Stupid little boy like you must be a product of inferior breeding! Probably got a halfwit for a daddy and some pigeon toed, cross eyed, toothless witch for a momma don't cha boy? Don't cha?!" she screamed before another "CRACK!" echoed.
By now there wasn't a dry eye in the classroom, even the boys were wiping their eyes and sniffling at the sound of that heavy old pointer smacking God only knew what, and they all hoped it was only his butt! Not a single one of them wanted to see her step on him again, and most of them were pretty sure that as they were lining up for the fire drill last Friday, Miss McKetridge pushed Dean so he stumbled and fell, and after what she'd done to him all that week, it was a miracle he could walk at all and wasn't squished like a bug. But they were sure she pushed him until he fell, and then stepped on him with her high boots until he couldn't help but scream.
She'd picked him up and sat him at his desk, "Well if you weren't so clumsy and lazy I might not have had to trip on you."
Then she'd made him stay inside, "You sit at your desk and think about what you've done! If this had been a real fire you'd be all burned up! And you'd deserve it!"
After that, Dean had simply stopped trying anything at all. He couldn't even bring himself to talk to Cheryl anymore, or Freddie or Dave or Nick or Lisa, or anyone.
Freddie was running down the hall with Mrs. Humphris in tow and a finger over his mouth as he led her into the classroom where she stopped, stunned to see so many tearful faces all making the "Shhh" sign.
Her head cocked to the side as she heard it, "CRACK!"
"Now you repeat after me! I am worthless!" "CRACK!"
"I am NOTHING!" "CRACK!"
"I am NO ONE!" "CRACK!"
Mrs. Humphris' face turned Christmas red as her mouth disappeared and she stalked to the bathroom door whipping it open.
"Miss McKetr..." her fury died on her lips, "My God what have you done?"
"Freddie Martinez!" she called from the bathroom, "Go get the nurse and Mr. Lawrence, NOW! You! Step away from that boy but don't you dare leave my sight!"
Outside the bathroom several of the children had dared to leave their chairs and were edging forward to see what they could, to see Miss McKetridge get in trouble for once. Her eyes flicked from the doorjamb out into the classroom and she shrieked, "BACK IN YOUR SEATS!"
Chairs and even a few desks scraped the floor as the children hastened to comply, uncertain what would come next or from whose hand.
"I have to son..."
A tiny mewling, "Nooooo," was the only sound anyone was certain came from Dean.
"That child doesn't need mollycoddling! What he needs is a stern hand!"
Those who had the vantage would later swear that when Mrs. Humphris reached out and grasped Miss McKetridge by the shirtfront that her hand had blood all over it.
--
Dean pulled himself up Miss Andrea's stairs, so close to collapsing, just as much with relief as with pain and exhaustion. That Mr. Lawrence, Nurse Gamble, and Mrs. Humphris had let him leave the school at all, let alone on his own power and without an adult picking him up was nothing short of a miracle. It had only taken a promise to have his dad call the principal when he got home from work tomorrow, which Dean would of course, come Monday say he simply forgot. Maybe by then he'd have a plan to keep the trouble out of John's ears.
"Sam, c'mon," he grunted wearily, content to just lean on the porch railing for the rest of forever as long as it meant he didn't have to sit down, lay down or touch anything with any part of his back or bottom.
"Hi Dean..." Miss Andrea greeted cheerfully holding the door open for Sam who stopped short, his playful gamboling done as if someone had thrown a switch, and from the look on Dean's pasty, sweating face, and those deep blue sacks beneath his eyes she felt herself frown.
Dean nodded, "What'd you do today runt?" he asked tightly.
"Dean?" Miss Andrea leaped down the porch steps so she was in front of him, "Honey are you okay? You really don't look very well at all..."
Dean nodded stiffly, "...sad tummy..."
"AGAIN!" Sam huffed, "Why'd you get another one?" then turned his gaze on Miss Andrea, "He'll take a bath and go to bed, he does that all the time."
"Bad milk," he muttered cracking as reassuring a smile as he could muster while maneuvering Sam away from the well meaning woman.
"Bye Miss Andrea! See you tomorrow..." Sam waved until she was back inside. As he turned, his feet got tangled and he careened into his big brother who stumbled but managed to catch him. "Sorry..." he grinned then felt it falter when he saw the pain that crossed his brother's face again. "Did I hit your bruise?" he asked.
Biting hard on his lower lip Dean nodded and ruffed the kid's hair, "S'okay," he choked.
--
"Eeeew you're gonna take a bath where I peed this morning..." Sam snickered then climbed off the potty while Dean ran the water in the bathtub.
"Make sure the door's locked and the drapes are closed Sam. Remember the phone and door rules..." he stoppered the tub and let the water run clear.
"I know I know...aren't you gonna make bubbles? You like bubbles..." Sam frowned.
"No bubbles tonight..." he shook his head as steam rose into the air.
"That's gonna be too hot, you're gonna get all red like in the summer when you get sunbirdn't," Sam warned.
"Sunburnt, now out...Less you wanna watch me take a bath..." the oldest Winchester ordered pointing to the door.
"You're gross..." Sam squinched up his face and left his big brother alone.
Even with the TV on Sam could hear tight little noises coming from the bathroom, and he wasn't sure but he thought he might've even heard a sniffle and a sob in there somewhere. Man that bruise gotta hurt if it's making him sniffle... he thought leaning toward the door, wanting to ask if Dean was okay, but not sure if he should, he didn't want Dean to be mad at him for asking dumb questions.
"Aahh shit..." he heard through the door and felt his mouth drop open while his hand covered it, That's a BAD WORD!
There were grunts and groans and whimpers that his big brother tried to hold back, and he was pretty sure that there was some crying happening too, and Sam found himself wondering, Maybe there's more than one uh oh... sounds like a whole real lots of 'em.
A burst of riotous laughter drew his attention to the TV, and with cold pizza in hand, Sam shimmied onto the couch and sat back wondering what was so funny about a bunch of people who sat in a bar all the time.
Dean pushed himself to his feet as the water swirled down the drain, he'd spent too long in there, turning gingerly from one side to the next, trying to keep the pressure off his back and rear and what little strength he'd had upon reaching the apartment seemed to have also fled down the drain. Damn, he cursed tucking the end of the towel around his hips while looking at the pile of clothes on the bathroom floor. He knew the shirt and seat of his pants were stiff with blood and he thanked whatever God there was that his jacket was knee length and had hidden everything from Sammy.
"Sam... get me my sweats and a t-shirt will ya?" he wasn't sure how loudly he'd asked or whether the runt could hear him over the TV and through the closed door, but there was no way he could get back into those stiff sticky clothes that had strings and strands of his skin embedded into the fibers.
"Sammy?" he called reaching for the counter as he stepped one foot out of the tub, the other foot caught on the rim and without a thought, he was down and out cold.
"'Kay Dean... here you go..." Sam opened the door, barely peeking with one eye to make sure he wasn't gonna get what Dean would call a "Full Moon" right in his face. "Dean!" he gasped dropping the clothes and skidding to his knees on the wet floor, his heart thundering and his tummy feeling sick when he saw the criss-crossed bloody splits of skin on his big brothers' back.
"Dean!" he threw himself backward as a small river of red ran from the older boys' forehead right toward him. "Dean! Say something!" he half screamed and pushed against his brothers' head, hoping he was faking.
--
It shouldn't be day time, it should be night, I feel like it's night... he thought as light filtered through his eyelid and eventually forced him to open his eyes.
The first thing he saw was Sammy sitting on his bed with his knees in his chest and tear streaks down his face with his thumb perched tightly in his mouth. You quit suckin' your thumb last year kiddo, what's up?
"...ah 'appen?" he grunted realizing he was on his stomach and his back was cold.
"Just lay still honey," Miss Andrea advised softly.
"Sam?" he asked letting his head rest on the pillow, "Sammy you okay? Whassa matter?"
"What's the matter!?" Sam yelled jumping off the bed, swiping his tears angrily away and leaning over Dean's puzzled face, "You big stupid doofus head! You lied to me and you made me scared and there was blood and you got really bad uh oh's and you're s'posed t'TELL when you got uh oh's! You're s'posed t'..." his breath stopped, Dean figured it might be sitting sideways in his throat, "You're not s'sposed t' just..." his voice cracked and he balled his fist angrily in front of his brothers face, "If you din't already have a mess of uh oh's I'd punch you! You big stupidhead!"
Dean watched the tears fall down his brothers face non-plussed by his anger, but his heart squeezing hard with every shimmery drop down those dimple filled cheeks, "I didn't want you to be scared runt..." he reached out but Sam turned away with a grunt and ran out into the living room where moments later Dean and Miss Andrea could both hear him sobbing.
"You had him scared silly Dean..." Miss Andrea softly stroked the boys' hair with one hand while her other daubed at his broken and bloody skin.
"Just spent too long in the tub... got weak..." Dean explained tremulously, then bit hard on his lower lip, "Go make sure he's okay? Please?"
She leaned to the side watching the little boy wipe away the tears from his face, "What happened Dean? Who did this to you?" she asked softly and leaned forward, "Are you and Sammy in trouble here?" she asked before the little guy made it back to wall outside the bedroom.
"Miss Andrea, you have to promise me... you can't tell our dad about this..." he pushed himself up until he was sitting. Blushing madly he clasped the towel together over himself.
"Dean if someone is hurting you, your father needs to know. I understand he's out of town picking up some scrap for the shop right?"
Slowly Dean nodded remembering that Dad would have worked hard to lay his story with the adult who watched over Sam.
"Honey, your daddy would never forgive himself or anyone else who tried to keep the truth from him about someone who'd hurt one of his children..."
"But it's over and done with... and it'll be finished...and then we'll leave, we always leave and it'll be okay cause then there'll be someplace new where none of this will have happened..." he explained in a gush as Sam peered around the door frame.
"Sammy?" Dean sniffed and for some reason felt rivers of tears flowing down his face, "Please?" he asked holding his arms open.
He gasped a grateful smile as his baby brother dashed into the room and leaped onto the bed, crawling into Dean's lap, wrapping himself around his big brother while he laid his head in the crook of his neck, "Don't you ever lie to me again you big boogerhead!"
"I promise," Dean sighed holding his little boy tight.
--
tbc.
Please R&R.
Thanks.
sifi.