The reason that the Winchester worked so well was because everyone adhered to the chain of command. John Winchester – Lord and Ruler. Dean Winchester – second-in-command. Then there was Samuel Winchester – bottom of the pile, did what he was told. At first this hadn't seemed to bother him.
But when Sam turned 13, he started to question, everything. He started to do what no-one could afford, not if staying alive was high priority. So John ended up having to slip in little training sessions in the most random of places, doing the most random of things. Asserting his authority. Letting the boys know who was in charge.
Not that Dean had ever been so outright defiant; still, he didn't want to get complacent with him, just in case he started to follow his brother's example.
Today's lesson took place in the large, but cheap supermarket two blocks from their current apartment. It was kind of spur of the moment, but John needed to know that he would be obeyed under any circumstances, no matter how embarrassing. It was damn lucky nothing could embarrass him.
So half way down a busy isle, filled with people John yelled at the top of his lungs;
All the Winchester knew that if someone shouted 'Duck!' you ducked. No questions, no searching for the danger first. You just dropped to the floor. You just did.
So both boys' did just that. Not that you could see it in his face, but John was struggling not to laugh. The sight of San and Dean covering their heads on the floor of the supermarket was pretty damn funny. Everyone was staring at them, not really surprising considering what they'd just done.
Dean looked around intently for the danger, then he realised. He let a snort of laughter and stood up.
"Thanks Dad that was really nice." He said with light amusement and healthy helping of sarcasm.
He held out a hand to Sam who still on the floor. Taking the proffered limb, he stood up looking bright red and furious.
"What the hell? That wasn't funny."
"Lighten up dude. I thought it was pretty funny." He shared a smile with his father.
"No it wasn't!" Sam was pissed off and feeling like a fool. Dean knew that he was gonna have to calm him down.
"Hey, he's just keepin' us on our game. It was practically a hug by our standards." Dean joked with raised eyebrows. He was trying to get Sam to see it for what it was. Sam seemed to soften slightly, but still huffed and walked off to finish get their weekly supplies.
About 15 minutes later there was another shout of "DUCK!"
Dean was down in a flash, but Sam decided he wasn't going to be had twice. About a millisecond later he regretted it. Apparently his father had foreseen this happening.
A bag of frozen peas collided with the back of his head, the cheap material bursting open, spraying cold peas everywhere.
Sam looked ridiculous as his thrashing about wildly trying to get rid of the chilly peas that had gone down his shirt. This was even more embarrassing than last time.
Dean was killing himself with laughter. Bright red in his mirth and rolling about on the floor. Not giving a crap who was staring.
Even John was laughing now.
"I hate you both…I just….I HATE you! Stop laughing! Dean, you…you look like a spastic hedgehog!"
Dean just laughed harder.
Needless to say next time someone yelled 'DUCK!' Sam did it without question.
No matter where they were.