"Mr. Winchester?" A gruff voice came from the other end of the call.
"This is John Winchester," John groggily spoke into the receiver. "Who is this?"
"My name is Officer Tull, I'm with the Mesa Police department. Is your son Samuel Winchester?"
John straightened up in bed. "Yes, is he okay?"
"He's okay, sir. He was arrested tonight, he's here at the station."
"Arrested for what?" John growled.
"He was arrested for possession of marijuana and alcohol by a minor."
"You're sure that's my boy? He's only 13 and that doesn't sound like him."
The officer chuckled. "He gave me this number. Shaggy brown hair, tall and wispy, surly attitude…"
John rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah that fits the bill."
The drive home was quiet. John considered his son. The boy sat in the passenger seat staring out the window. John was sure he wasn't actually looking at anything, but rather trying his hardest to avoid John's harsh gaze. He knew the hunting life was hard on his boys, but especially Sam who had never taken to hunting the way Dean had. The constant moving and training had always been harder on his youngest, who longed for a normal life. He felt for his son, but, John knew he couldn't let Sam get away with being insubordinate because of it.
He finally broke the silence.
"You gonna tell me what that was all about?"
Sam shrugged without looking away from the window.
John cleared his throat. "Let me rephrase that. What the hell were you thinking being out after dark getting drunk and high with that group of kids? Didn't I already warn you already to stay away from that crowd?"
Sam shrugged again.
John licked his teeth as he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. "Boy, you better answer me if you know what's good for you!"
"I don't know."
With his anger rising John tried to calm himself with a deep breath. "You don't know what?"
Sam sighed. "I don't know why I did it, I just did. I just felt like doing something… different."
When John spoke this time his voice was louder. "Different? You wanna do something different you plant a tree, try a new sport, hell learn a new spell, something that doesn't involve drugs, alcohol and getting arrested!"
"Whatever!"
"Watch it, boy."
"You just," Sam's tone was low and laced with venom. "You just don't understand."
"You're damn right about that one, boy." John bellowed. "I can't for the life of me understand what possessed you to do something so god damn stupid and dangerous."
"I didn't even drink! Sam argued.
John chuckled. "You reek of beer, Samuel."
"Someone spilled it on me! I'm telling you the truth, I didn't drink." Sam crossed his arms in defiance.
"Fine," John responded calmly. "You didn't drink, I believe you. Did you smoke pot?"
Sam was quiet.
"You sneak out?" John asked, a little louder this time. "Disobey my orders? Run in with the cops?"
Sam scowled.
"I want an answer, boy!" John boomed.
"Yes." Sam huffed.
"Yes what?" John growled.
Sam narrowed his eyes at his father. "Yes, I did."
John's jaw almost dropped at the blatant disrespect. Not that it was unlike Sam to be disrespectful, especially when he was feeling angry at his dad, but he was usually smart enough to know when to insert the 'sirs' to placate John. "I don't know who you think you are, boy, or who you think you're talking to but you better check that attitude. This is your last warning. I didn't raise you to act recklessly and defiant, I didn't raise you to show disrespect and I sure as hell didn't raise you to break the law, at least not MY laws."
Sam chuckled. "You didn't raise me at all." He said under his breath.
John whipped the car to the side of Wayward Ave so quick Sam almost hit his head on the window. He threw it in park and was at Sam's door so fast it was as if he had just teleported there. He yanked Sam out of the front seat by his collar and practically threw him over the hood of the Impala. He pulled his belt through the loops of his jeans with one hand while holding Sam down by the small of his back with the other.
"I have had enough of your disobedience and your smart mouth." John said before laying down a few licks right on Sam's sit spots. Sam grunted.
"You will not disrespect me or my rules!" He landed another half a dozen swats across Sam's backside. He tried to hold it in but Sam couldn't help the yips that escaped his lips.
"There will be no more drug use EVER, and if you ever get arrested again you better hope they lock you up because by the time I'm done with you you'll wish you were in jail." John added a dozen more lashes to Sam's already sore backside. Sam cried out this time.
"You understand me, boy?" John demanded. Sam nodded. John landed a few more licks, harder than the rest, on the top of Sam's thighs. Sam howled.
"Can't hear your head rattle, son."
"Yes, sir!" Sam's voice was shaky.
"Are we gonna have to have this conversation again?" John emphasized his question with another lick.
Sam began to shake his head but quickly added "No, sir!"
John laced his belt back through his jeans, the pulled Sam up by the back of his shirt. He spun the boy around to face him.
"Good. Because what you did tonight was wrong. You know, I know it," he waved around. "The damn field mice out here know it now too." Sam blushed. "But for you to give me lip and show disrespect after making a bad decision like that, it's unacceptable. And you know I don't stand for that."
Tears streaked down his cheeks, Sam nodded. "Yes, sir."
John pulled his son in for a brief hug then motioned him back toward the car. "Good. Then let's go home."