Getting Back to Basics
AUTHOR: Eagle Eyes and Supergirl3684
PROMPT: # 33 Tantrums
RATING: PG – 13
TYPE OF STORY: General
SUMMARY: Bad hunting causes John to check in on his sons. What he sees angers him and he decided to 'lay down the law'. The boy's aren't happy and handle it in a childish manner. John answers back the same way.
John Winchester sat in his beat up pick up truck hidden from view as the familiar shape of the 1967 Impala pulled into the parking slot in front of the motel room. He watched as his sons got out. His oldest son, Dean, had a smug look on his face. His youngest, Sam had a dark look on his. It had been like that for the last few times now. John had been surreptitiously watching his sons after their last few hunts.
His good friend Bobby Singer had tipped him off that these two may not exactly be practicing safe hunting techniques lately. From what he had seen from these past few hunts, he could understand his friend's concern. There hadn't been much preparation for the approach to the hunts, his sons had engaged in. They had gone in unprepared, "winging" it and on this last hunt Sam had almost been seriously wounded.
Dean, at the last minute had killed the thing and Sam had narrowly missed ending up in the emergency room. This was not the way John had taught them to hunt and it was time he took charge before one or the other of them ended up seriously injured or killed.
"Dean, what the hell was that! You were supposed to be backing me up!" Sam turned, spitting fire at his older brother, once they got into the motel room.
"What the hell are you griping about Francis? I saved your ass didn't I?" Dean retorted.
"Dean…that's not the point; you know Dad has always taught us to make a plan, as well as a backup plan just in case! This was another no plan hunt! Last time I had to save your ass at the last minute!" Sam's face was red with anger now.
Dean shrugged his shoulders. "What does it matter as long as neither of us gets hurt? We're both good at what we do; maybe even better than Dad." Dean pronounced.
Sam gave his older brother the "deer in the headlights look" Then he mumbled under his breath, "you are crazy! I wonder what demon has possessed you."
John had slipped closer to the door of his son's motel room. The curtains were closed and he lounged for a few moments near their window hearing their raised voices. He shook his head at his oldest son's attitude. Better than me, huh? Time to disabuse that young man of that notion. John returned to his truck and watched the motel window for the lights to turn out.
Sam flung himself onto his bed, ignoring his brother. He knew if he listened to any more of his crap that they would end up fighting and he didn't want that. He watched the television as Dean talked on his cell phone. Sam knew he was setting up their next hunt. He seldom asked for Sam's input any more and just went ahead and did things on his own, then telling Sam what they would do. The youngest Winchester finally flipped off the TV, went into the bathroom to wash, brush his teeth, change into sweat pants and a tee shirt and crawled into bed.
"Night Dean." Sam called.
"Night Sam," Dean said absently. He finally finished up what he was doing and climbed into bed himself, turning out the light.
John Winchester, seeing the light go out in the motel room, waited another hour to be sure both boys would be sound asleep. He slipped into their room. Dean hadn't even pulled the chain across the door. He shook his head at his boy's carelessness. He noticed there had been no salt laid down at the room entrance either. The older hunter sighed.
Working swiftly, but quietly John went through all of Dean's things. He pocketed a half dozen sets of keys to the Impala and then, salted the door entrance. He opened the boy's weapons case to see it a mess. Weapons had been thrown in haphazardly, not having been cleaned from the last hunt. He had taught them better than this. Well, they were going to pay the price.
Dean slowly came out of a deep sleep to see a shadowy figure at the weapons case. He put his hand under his pillow only to find nothing there. He had always, since he was about seven years old had a weapon under his pillow! Where had it gone? He sat up in a panic.
The voice that came out of the dark shocked Dean.
"Looking for your weapon? You won't find it there Dean." John Winchester turned the small lamp over the table in the motel room on. He glanced over at the shocked look on his oldest child's face.
Sam began to stir, hearing voices. One of them sounded like Dad, but that was impossible… Sam blinked as he sat up slowly. It was Dad! He was standing by the table with the weapons case open and with a really pissed off look on his face.
"So the giant awakes." The elder Winchester said, turning to his youngest son.
Sam didn't like the sound of his father's voice at all.
Dean scrambled out of bed, anger flashing, "Dad! You can't just come waltzing in here going through our stuff!"
John crossed his arms over his barrel chest and eyed his oldest. "I have every right as a father young man to step in when I hear reports of my sons taking foolish risks with their lives!"
Dean's green eyes flashed. "Dad, were adults. No one went around ordering you around when you were our age!"
"I also wasn't engaged in life threatening activities like this when I was your age either. If I had been and my father was aware of it he'd have come and kicked my ass, just like I'm going to kick both your asses." John replied, his eyes flashing now.
Sam looked incredulously at his father and brother. They never fought like this; this was supposed to be a Sam/John moment. He blinked twice to see if it made a difference, but it didn't.
"Dad… We have been on our own for quite a while now you know. Don't you trust us?" Sam tried.
Turning to his youngest, the older hunter replied, "Sam, you're in just as deep here. I know for a fact you've been concerned with the hunting methods the two of you have been using lately. Sloppy hunting techniques almost got you seriously hurt on this last hunt." John scolded Sam like a recalcitrant child.
Dean grabbing his jacket said, "I'm out of here. I don't have to put up with this fucking shit!" Flinging on his jacket he went to open the door and John, jingled something in front of Dean's eyes.
Dean strode over to his back pack where he kept his spare sets of keys and John just grinned. "You won't find any Dean."
Dean turned with a pouty look on his face that reminded John of when Dean was about six. "Daad! Dean whined, "You caan't doo that!"
"I can and I have Dean." John said matter-of-factly. Dean stomped his foot and flew into a tantrum that would have done a six year old proud.
Sam looked at his brother in amazement. Dean had kicked his back pack, sending it skittering across the floor. Then he picked up the little plastic and paper signs from next to the TV, throwing them at his father, all the while yelling and screaming about how he couldn't just waltz into his life and tell him what to do.
Sam, getting angry, hearing Deans words joined in on his brother's tantrum.
"Yeah Dad, you can't tell us what to do any more! We've been doing fine all on our own!"
John fended off the missiles being flung at him. When he heard his youngest son join in the tantrum with his brother sounding all incensed, he hid a smile. The two of them hadn't ganged up on him like this since Dean was ten and Sam was six. It hadn't ended up well for either son then and this little demonstration of temper was going to end up with the same results now.
John finally said "Enough!" in a voice that still had his sons obeying immediately, even at their current ages.
Once both boys had stopped yelling and throwing things around he eyed them. In a quiet low firm voice he said, "The two of you clean up this mess. NOW!"
Both boys knowing that voice and to disobey would be suicide scrambled to put the room back to rights. Once they had done this they both stood at attention in front of John.
With his arms crossed he eyed them both, giving them his Dad look.
Dean, seeing this felt as though he suddenly had a rock in his stomach. Sam, hearing those familiar words and seeing that familiar look felt his stomach do flip flops. They were in deep shit.
"Dean, tell me what the first rule of a hunt is." John commanded.
"To make sure your father isn't watching you so you can handle it like you want?" Dean said flippantly.
John, in no mood for his son smart ass comments snaked out his arm and quickly turning Dean landed three hard swats to his rear end.
"Ow!" Dean hadn't expected that and those swats had hurt!
Sam, watched wide eyed as his brother opened his mouth to spew out something totally stupid and then winced as the three swats landed like rifle shots on his brother's backside.
"Now, if you're finished with the smart ass Dean, answer the question." Dean sighed and answered the question correctly. John drilled both boys in this fashion for a while. "Now that I know you truly remember the rules of safety, it's time to take care of the punishment for both the beautifully executed temper tantrums and breaking the safe hunting rules."
Sam and Dean looked at each other. Shit, he can't really mean what we think he means
John looked at Sam. "Here are the keys to my truck. Go out and find us some good coffee and something to eat. Take about an hour."
Sam reluctantly took the keys from John's hand and left the room, giving his brother a sympathetic look.
Dean watched his younger brother leave. He had no doubt in his mind as to what was going to happen next. The pattern that had developed was too familiar. The older Winchester brother watched as his father took the chair out from under the desk and set it where he would have enough room to perform the hated deed. He jumped a little when he finally heard the command.
"Come over here Dean." With his father pointing to a spot in front of him Dean froze for a moment. "Son, you don't want me to have to come over there and get you. It'll be worse if I do."
Dean stared at his father in disbelief. 'This can't be fucking happening.' He thought to himself angrily. In the time it took for Dean to ponder the unfairness of the situation John decided he'd waited long enough.
"You just made it harder on yourself son," John informed the younger hunter as he grasped his upper arm in a powerful grip.
Dean snapped out of his reverie too late, "No, please dad…I was coming. Just…wait…" Dean started to struggle.
John stopped long enough to lay several more stinging swats to Dean's backside. "You know the consequences of stalling and they haven't changed."
Dean stilled; his eyes wide. John had to hide a smile at Dean's deer in the headlights look that Sam normally gave. With another stern look John started to walk Dean back to the chair where he sat down. He didn't give Dean any time to think about what was going to happen. He tugged on the arm still in his hand and soon Dean was over his lap.
Dean didn't protest as John swept his sweat pants and boxers to his knees. He knew that to protest now, after refusing to obey the 'come' command, would only result in even more trouble for him.
John didn't say anything as he began to bring his hand down on his son's vulnerable backside. Besides the sound of the swats the room was quiet. It wasn't until John heard Dean's breathing becoming hitched that he began to speak.
"Why are you getting spanked Dean?" John asked, neither pausing the swats nor letting up on the strength.
Dean bit his lip trying to compose himself before answering but a particularly hard swat urged him to answer, "I…OW…because I…OW…threw a tantrum."
"What else?" John asked.
Dean's feet were kicking and he was starting to have a hard time keeping quiet. "I d-didn't…AH…f-follow th-the….OW…rules! Dad…I-I'm s-sorry!"
"I know you are son and I'm gonna make very sure that you remember this lesson for some time." John warned as he picked up the tempo.
Dean started to kick his legs wildly. He couldn't believe that at his age, getting spanked hurt as much as it did.
SWAT, SWAT "You had better," SWAT, SWAT "never break the rules," SWAT, SWAT "the way you've been doing." SWAT, SWAT "You're supposed to be," SWAT, SWAT "taking care of Sammy," SWAT, SWAT "not putting him in danger." SWAT, SWAT "You do NOT" SWAT, SWAT "put yourself in any more risk," SWAT, SWAT "then you're already in." SWAT, SWAT "And you sure as hell," SWAT, SWAT "don't throw a tantrum," SWAT, SWAT "when you don't get your way!" SWAT, SWAT "Do you understand?" SWAT, SWAT
"Y-yes, sir," Dean cried. "Dad, please…"
John lifted one knee and dropped the other, concentrating on placing the next couple of dozen swats on Dean's tender under curves and sit spots. When he was done he stopped, took a deep breath and rubbed circles on Dean's back waiting for him to calm down a little. Dean tried to get up and was surprised to find himself still trapped.
"D-dad," Dean asked threw his tears.
"Not yet Dean-o, you know the penalty for me having to get you." John said firmly.
Dean groaned and couldn't stop the tears from starting to come once again. John reached down into the bag by his feet and pulled out a hair brush. He laid it against his son's backside and watched the said backside shiver.
"Why are you getting the extra spanking for Dean?" John asked wanting to make sure his son understood why he was getting punished.
"I didn't come w-when you said and I-I fought," Dean answered through his tears.
"That's right son; we're almost done." John's voice was tired. He didn't want to add to his son's discomfort but knew that as a father, he had to. With that in mind he brought the brush up and with a snap of his wrist brought it down.
SMACK, SMACK "OW!" SMACK "NO! D-dad!" SMACK "I…sorry!" SMACK "OW!" SMACK "AH!" SMACK, SMACK
With the final two strokes of the brush Dean lay limp over his father's lap and cried. John dropped the brush at his side and rubbed circles on Dean's back until Dean had calmed down a little.
With a gentleness, that one wouldn't expect to see from him after the spanking he just gave his son, John eased Dean's boxers and sweats up and over the reddened backside. He pulled Dean onto his lap, knowing that once Dean had complete control over his emotions he wouldn't allow it. John made sure that Dean's backside didn't come into contact with anything.
"It's ok Champ; I got you. Shh baby, it's ok." John kept up a steady string of soft words and was surprised when Dean threw his arms around him and cried on his shoulder.
Dean finally calmed down and looked at his father; his ears started to turn red in embarrassment. He didn't try to get up just yet though.
"I'm sorry," Dean began. "I didn't...I mean I don't…I…" Dean's words trailed off and it took all of John's inner power not to laugh.
"I know," he informed his son. It was true too; John didn't need Dean to say anything for him to know that Dean was sorry or that Dean wasn't quite sure why he threw his temper tantrum. He decided to help.
"It was kind of a shock to wake up to me being here, huh?" John asked. He was awarded with a nod from Dean. "It was an even bigger shock to find me taking charge?" another nod. "It's hard because you were the one in charge and yet here I come, out of no where, and take that away from you." John raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, sir," Dean answered, looking at his hands, which he placed in his lap.
John lifted his sons chin, wanting to make sure Dean was listening to him. "I'm not gonna stand by and watch you or Sam get hurt. You've been making mistakes that you didn't make when you first started. I have rules that I want you to follow, not because I want to control your life, but because I want you to stay safe. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Dean once again answered.
"I'm not even gonna talk about the tantrum you threw. You were wrong and it's not gonna happen again; right?"
"Never again, sir," Dean replied quickly.
John smiled at that and helped Dean to stand. He hugged the younger man once again and Dean hugged him back. "Ok then, we're almost done."
Dean paled wondering what his father meant by that. He watched with wide eyes as John pointed to the weapons case on the table.
"I want all the weapons cleaned and organized correctly before you go to bed so I suggest you start now." John informed his stunned son. Dean's eyes went wider when John pulled out a chair and motioned for him to sit down.
He was ready to protest but his throbbing backside sent him scurrying to the seat. He sat gingerly and gave his father his own version of sad puppy eyes. John wasn't swayed but he did hug him again. Dean let out a sigh of acceptance and went to work…quickly and carefully.
Sam felt a rock settle in the pit of his stomach. How many times in his youth had he been sent on an errand away from the house while his father tended to his older brother? How many times had their tantrums, like the one they had tonight resulted in just the consequences he and his brother were facing. Would they ever learn? Sam saw an all night drive through and picked up cups of coffee and burgers and fries for them all. He took his time driving back, making certain to stay away the required amount of time.
When Sam entered the room Dean was sitting, none too comfortably, at the table, the weapons case open and cleaning and organizing them. His father was sitting across from him, looking tired and worn. Maybe he wouldn't be too hard on him when it came to his turn?
"Hi, I found a burger place and brought coffee and food." Sam set the bags down on the low credenza where the TV was mounted.
The youngest Winchester saw Dean go to get up and then settle back onto his seat, wincing a bit as John eyed him.
"Thank you Sam. Why don't you distribute the food and we'll eat."
Sam relaxed a little then and watched as Dean ate and continued to clean the filthy weapons. Sam was hoping that with his father closely supervising Dean that he'd forgotten all about his punishment.
John watched his youngest relax and smiled to himself at the boy's false sense of security. His punishment could wait a little bit longer. He wanted to make sure Dean had finished his task and to have him in bed before he dealt with his youngest child.
When Sam finished his food he went to crawl back into his bed and go to sleep, when his father's voice stopped him cold and the food he had just eaten sunk like a rock in his stomach.
"Sam, I'm not finished with you yet. You will sit quietly on your bed until I'm ready to deal with you." John told him in a tone that Sam knew well and brooked no disobedience. The worst thing about getting a spanking from John Winchester was waiting for it.
In another half hour Dean had finished both his meal and cleaning and organizing the weapons. After inspecting his work John closed the case and said, "You may get up now and crawl into bed Dean."
Dean rose a bit stiffly, rubbing his throbbing backside and grimacing as he did so. He hadn't been spanked like that in a very long time and decided he didn't want to go there again very soon. John gave his son a one armed hug and once Dean crawled into bed, the older hunter handed him the knife he liked to keep under his pillow. He bent down and to Dean's horror, kissed him on the forehead and carefully pulled the covers over him, being mindful of his son's sore rear end.
"Sleep well Dean. Your brother and I will be back in a while. I've salted the door and I'll lock it when I leave; good-night son."
"Good-night Dad; have fun going down memory lane Sam." Dean told his younger brother with what should have been a grin, but came out as a grimace.
"Good-night Dean," Sam said as he left the room with his father.
Sam got into the passenger side of the truck as John climbed into drive. He guided the truck out of the parking lot and headed it down the highway. After about ten minutes he pulled off the road and onto a two track leading back into some woods.
Sam was wondering where the older hunter was headed. When they broke through the woods, Sam saw a clearing. It looked like some kind of a camp site. John cut the engine, but left the lights on. He indicated with his head that Sam should exit the vehicle. Sam, a bit nervous, got out of the truck.
John led the way to a makeshift bench near the cold campfire pit. It was made out of a log halved and planed smooth. It was supported by stones piled on either end. It was a pretty solid bench despite its rough hewn look. John motioned for Sam to sit next to him.
"Sam, we need to talk." John said, looking into his youngest son's hazel eyes. Sam nodded but said nothing. "You knew what you're brother was doing wasn't safe; yes?"
"Yes, sir," Sam admitted quietly.
"I understand that he's your big brother and you look up to him. I'm glad you two are working together but just as your brother has a duty to you, you have one to him. You should have insisted he listen to you or you should have called me or even Bobby." John stopped talking to make sure Sam was really listening to him.
Sam was turning red with embarrassment. He knew he'd messed up and at this point was more then ready to accept his punishment. John could see the acceptance and decided to finish up his lecture.
"Dean is not the only one responsible for making sure the weapons are clean or that there's salt laid out. If Dean won't take responsibility for it then you do and let Dean get in trouble by himself. Do you understand?" John waited until he heard the quiet 'yes, sir' come from Sam. John nodded, "jeans are gonna have to come down kiddo."
John waited to see if Sam would do as he was told. Just as Dean had surprised him by disobeying, Sam surprised him by obeying. Sure, John knew that his youngest was willing to accept his punishment but Sam had usually done things the hard way.
As with Dean, John wasted no time in bringing his hand to meet the unprotected backside in front of him. Hearing the sobs starting to come from his youngest John knew it was time for him to speak.
SWAT, SWAT "You had better," SWAT, SWAT "never break the rules," SWAT, SWAT "the way you've been doing again." SWAT, SWAT "You do NOT" SWAT, SWAT "put yourself in any more risk," SWAT, SWAT "then you're already in." SWAT, SWAT "And you sure as hell," SWAT, SWAT "don't throw a tantrum," SWAT, SWAT "just because," SWAT, SWAT "your brother is!" SWAT, SWAT "Do you understand?" SWAT, SWAT
"Yes, sir," Sam cried out. The pain was more intense then he'd remembered.
John knew that Sam's offense wasn't nearly as bad as Dean's. After all, he'd spent years training Sam to listen to his brother. Knowing that, he decided to finish up quickly. He dropped one knee and raised the other laying the last dozen or so swats to the sensitive under curves and sit spots of Sam's backside.
When he was done he quickly and carefully brought Sam's boxers and sweats up and pulled Sam onto his lap. He knew from experience that his youngest needed the physical contact more then anything.
Sam cried into John's shoulder the same way Dean had. John held on to his son, tightly, not wanting to let go.
"It's alright Sammy; I've got you. Shh little boy, I'm here." John murmured comforting words until Sam was done crying.
Sam tried to stand but John held him secure in his lap. "Settle down son," he ordered gently. He was once again surprised. When he had finished with his older son, Dean hadn't even realized that he'd been on his dad's lap and now Sam was trying to get up. Sam settled down at his father's words.
Gripping Sam's chin in his hand, John looked him in the eye. "We're not gonna talk about the tantrum you and your brother threw. It won't happen again though; do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Sam blushed.
John was content to just hold his son for a few minutes having already done the lecture bit earlier. When Sam yawned John knew it was time to go. He helped Sam stand up and watched with an amused grin as Sam rubbed his backside gingerly.
Sam walked with his father's arm around his shoulders back to the truck. "Get in Sam. We need to get back to the motel and your brother."
Sam looked at John. Sit? How the hell am I suppose to do that right now? He always does this to me. Busts my ass and then expects me to sit. I'd better not have a tantrum about this though. I know as well as I know my own name that I'll end up with my ass up over his knee if I do and I've had enough of that.
Sam climbed up into the truck and gingerly sat in the seat, wincing and letting out a groan as he did so.
John, looking over at his youngest wondered if the boy was going to have a tantrum about having to sit on his freshly spanked bottom. When he saw him get into the truck he gave a sigh of relief. Getting into the driver's seat he glanced over at his son who was in obvious pain. "Take deep breaths Sammy, it'll help."
Sam almost laughed. How many times had he heard his father tell him this in this very same position? He did take deep breaths and it did help some.
When they arrived at the motel they let themselves in quietly. John secured the chain and the dead bolt, re-salted the door and did the window too for good measure. He tucked Sam into bed as he had Dean, kissing him on the forehead, "Good-night Sammy."
"Dad?" Sam asked.
"Yes Son?" John smiled down at his child.
"Why don't you share the bed with me? You look beat." Sam offered.
John gave his son a genuine smile and said, "Okay. That's an offer I won't refuse."
In the morning when they all got up there were two identical groans out of the Winchester brothers. John was sitting at the small table with a cup of coffee and there were bags filled with food.
"Why don't the two of you hit the shower, then we'll eat and have a talk about how things will be going for the next little while."
Sam and Dean exchanged looks, but with their bottoms still protesting decided to just do as they were told.
Once they had showered and had gingerly sat down to eat their breakfast John began. "First, there won't be any tantrums about this understood?"
Both boys rolled their eyes, only to receive a stern look from their father. Sam and Dean exchanged looks that said to each other, what are we now, little boys?
John caught the look, but chose to ignore it. "Since you two haven't been doing as you were taught we will be going over the rules of hunting one by one. You will be writing them down and once I'm satisfied you're familiar with them we will then go over how to make a plan for a hunt as well as the back up plan. We will also be training on a daily basis and you will each be cleaning your weapons everyday as well. We are going back to basics. Not until I'm satisfied that the two of you can hunt safely will you be going on a hunt again and then for a time only with me supervising you. Only when I am very certain you both can be trusted to hunt alone safely will I allow you to do so."
Sam and Dean looked at each other incredulously. They would have to go back to being supervised and earn the right to hunt alone all over again? They both turned to protest, but stopped dead in their tracks seeing the look their father was giving them. It was his no tantrums will be tolerated look and instead of protesting and having a tantrum about the edict their father had just handed down said respectfully and meekly, "Yes Sir."
John seeing the brewing tantrum knew he had to only give them his "dad" look and he would be in complete control of the situation. He knew his boys would avoid at all costs the way John Winchester dealt with tantrum behavior.
Sam and Dean worked at getting ready. John had returned one set of keys to the Impala back to his oldest son, keeping track of the spares. He was glad that he could again keep his sons safe from the things that went bump in the night; that they would learn in time the importance of keeping themselves safe and hoping it would be some time before they thought having a tantrum would be a good idea.