Hey guys! Ok, so I'm back and I have started another story, although I currently have another yet to be finished! I know...I'm an epic failure...but what can I say? I have the attention span of a squirral sometimes. The shit just can't be helped.
This is a 2 chapter one-shot.
Warning(s): Language and spanking of a minor by a parent.
Just Can't Stay Put
John Winchester gripped the steering wheel of the sleek, black, '67 Chevy Impala hard enough to make his knuckles white and pressed his foot down on the gas pedal making the metal-on-wheels lurch forward. To say he was furious would be an understatement. A sound caught between a sigh and a whimper brought him out of his red haze as he glanced over to his eldest son, Dean.
He could tell the nineteen-year-old was beyond freaking out even if Dean was trying his damnest not to show it.
John shook his head and placed a restraining hand on his son's knee that was bouncing up and down with enough force he could hear the thump thump thump over the purr of the engine.
"We're gonna find him, Dean."
Dean nodded his head vehemently, "I know." He ran a hand through his hair and pushed out a sigh, "When we do I'm gonna kick his scrawny ass."
John smirked a little a that, "Yeah, well you can have what's left of him after I'm done."
Said 'him' was one, Samuel Eric Winchester. John's youngest son had the habit of taking little excursions in the last six months. It had happened twice since Sam had turned fifteen.
The first time John's youngest hadn't went far, only to the next town over. Sam had been gone for two days testing the freedom of being on his own. The boy had returned with a threat from his father if he ever did anything like that again he would be very sorry.
The second time Sam hadn't been able to control the urge to leave again. Just the thought of being able to do something he wanted and when he wanted was too tempting, so he left again. He made it to a whole other state and stayed for a week before John and Dean found him. John made good on his promise and nearly whipped the skin clean off Sam's backside and made yet another threat of his overall health were he to have a repeat performance.
That was three months ago and Sam managed to keep himself from creeping off.
"I'm sorry, Dad." Dean's mumbled voice brought John out of his reverie.
He glanced at his eldest taking in the guilty slump of his shoulders before returning his eyes to the road, "What for?"
"I should've been keepin' a better eye on, Sam."
"Son," John sighed heavily. He knew he put too much responsibility on Dean when it came to his little brother and it was inevitable the boy would twist the situation to make it his own fault. "It's not your fault Sam ran off. Again."
Dean shook his head, "I knew he was itchin' to leave again. He'd been acting anxious all week and I shrugged it off." Dean slapped his own thigh in frustration, "I didn't think he would go off after you strapped him the last time. I didn't do my job and look after him." Putting his head in his hands he choked out, "I don't know what I'll do if something happens to him."
John pulled off the road sharply and came to a stop on the shoulder. Adjusting himself so he could face Dean he laid his hand on his son's arm,
"Look at me, boy." He ordered. When wet green eyes locked onto his own brown glare John's heart nearly broke at the desperation he saw in them. "I don't want you blammin' yourself, ya hear me?"
"You know as well as I do when Sammy gets somethin' in his head nothing short of barricading him in a motel room is gonna stop him. You aren't responsible for the choices your brother makes. Understand?"
Dean wiped a tear away and chuckled at the thought of his brother's stubbornness. It was true Winchester style, "I don't know 'bout you but I'm done with this chick-flick moment. What'dya say we go find the little pain in the ass?"
John knew how to track his son although Sam was trained to hide. After him and Dean did a recon mission of the next dusty town they stopped in and asked around they gathered Sam was, in fact taking refuge in the small town. It wasn't hard to find the small abandoned cabin nestled in the woods just outside of the town limits. That's where Sam would be; the cabin was secluded and easy to keep protected.
John and Dean left the Impala a mile from the cabin and hiked through the woods. Using their hunting skills they were able to sneak up to the cabin without being detected by the youngest Winchester.
John peeked through one of the windows and spotted Sam sitting at a table with his back to him. The worry John had felt for the past two weeks released it's grip on his heart making his chest feel lighter knowing his son was safe and unharmed.
Well, until I get my hands on him
John looked over to Dean and nodded his head. His anger returned full force as he watched his oldest sigh in relief and sag against the building.
The father and son hunting duo made their way to the front porch, treading lightly. At a nod from his father, Dean silently opened the screen door. The distinct sound of a blade sanding against a wet stone filtered from the room Sam was in. With anger boiling in his veins John stepped through the door and crossed his arms,
"Samuel Eric Winchester!" He bellowed.
Sam jumped at the sudden booming voice and dropped the knife he was sharpening with a clatter on the table. He turned quickly to see one pissed off Dad Winchester.
"D-dad?" Sam stuttered. The glare he was receiving almost made him piss himself. "How'd you find me?"
Dean stepped up beside their father and copied his stance of legs parted, arms crossed tightly across his chest, complete with murderous glare, "It wasn't that hard dipshit." Dean answered. "Who do you think taught you how to disappear?"
Sam expected his Dad and brother to find him but was surprised they had actually tracked him down to the small cabin.
Sam dropped his head and mumbled an apology.
"Sorry isn't gonna cut it this time, Sam." John replied calmly. Too calmly for Sam's liking. "You know you're in a shitload of trouble, right?"
"Yes, sir." Sam responded barely louder than a whisper.
"Look at me, boy." John barked out. He waited until his youngest's eyes connected with his to continue, "What'd I tell would happen if you ran away again, Samuel?"
Sam's heart sped up and heat rushed to his face in embarrassment having to repeating John's promise in front of his big brother, "You'd give me the whippin' of a lifetime when you found me."
"Alright," John said with a tight nod, "Grab your knife."
In his peripheral vision he saw Dean give him a worried look as he uncrossed his arms.
Surely, Dad wasn't going to stab, Sammy. Right? Had Dad finally lost it? Dean prepared himself to save his little brother if needed.
Sam watched his father's face for a minute to try and find any hint of his intentions. John just glared at him with a determination glint in his eyes. Sam looked over to his brother for some sort of inclination and saw he looked just as confused and alarmed. Not finding any answers in Dean's expression Sam grabbed the knife off the table and hesitantly walked towards their father.
When his son approached him John stood up straighter and motioned with his head to the knife.
"Go out and cut a switch." He ordered bluntly.
"Dad, no. Please." Sam pleaded. Dad had never used a switch on him and he wasn't exactly gung-ho to have the new experience.
It physically hurt John to hear the fear in his son's voice but he had to teach the boy a lesson, so he stood firm and unwavering,
"Go on, Sam."
Sam could tell Dad wasn't going to change his mind so he dropped his shoulders in defeat and walked pass him and Dean to go get the dreaded tool.
Sam searched for the appropriate tree limb through blurry eyes. How could he be so stupid? Why did always get himself in these situations?
Knowing better than to bring his father something flimsy or that would easily snap in half, Sam cut off a sturdy piece of tree and peeled off the leaves as he walked back to the cabin.
John watched as Sam came back wiping at his face angrily. His son stopped in front of him and offered the switch without looking at him. John took hold of the punishing implement and turned to his eldest,
"Dean, wait outside."
Dean looked like he was going to argue but stopped himself. He nodded grimly and gave his brother one last sympathetic glance before walking out to the front porch.
John turned back to Sam to see tears already leaking down his face. Not wanting to prolong the punishment any longer he exhaled sharply and put a hand on Sam's shoulder,
"You know why I have to do this, Sammy. Even though I don't want to it's my duty as your father. You understand that, don't ya?" He explained gently.
Sam looked up at John when he heard the different tone. More tears rushed out at the sadness in his father's eyes. He did understand. Really, he did.
At Sam's slow nod John steered his son toward the small table in the room.
"Drop your jeans and bend over." He instructed indicating to the table.
Sam took a deep breath as he fumbled with the button of his jeans. After getting them undone he unzipped his fly and with shaking hands pushed them down to his knees. Sam stood still after getting his pants down; he just couldn't put himself over the table.
John understood Sam wasn't being defiant as he stood in front of the table so he put his hand on his son's back and gently pushed him down. John kept his hand on the small of Sam's back and positioned himself behind him.
"You've got twenty comin'." John warned.
Sam took another deep breath as he tucked his arms under his chest and rested his forehead on the table.
John gripped the switch tight in his hand and brought his arm up high and back down.
Sam hissed and jerked at the first lash of the switch. He didn't have time to process the pain fully as the next line of fire was laid across his ass. Sam quickly decided that the stupid tree branch was way worse than his Dad's belt.
John kept the lashes coming with even strokes wanting to get the punishment over as much as his son.
After the tenth line of fire Sam couldn't hold in the yelps anymore.
"Ow!" He yelled out. "Dad, please! I'm sorry!"
"I know you are, kid." John replied as he continued with the onslaught on Sam's backside.
Dean stood outside on the porch with his back against the wall and his eyes shut tight. He could hear the swish followed by a yelp and cry from his baby brother. Dean knew his brother deserved the hiding, it was dangerous and stupid to run off the way he did, but it still hurt to hear Sammy crying and pleading.
John blinked back tears as he finished with the last five strokes. After breaking the switch in half and dropping it to the floor he rubbed Sam's back as the kid sobbed into the table.
Sam couldn't move from his position bent over the table even as the whipping was over. His ass burned and throbbed and, God, that had been so bad.
After his boy was reduced to sniffles John tugged him up and helped him carefully right his jeans. The dejected look on Sam's red, blotchy, face split John's heart in two. He quickly pulled Sam into his arms and squeezed him tight.
Sam wrapped his arms around his Dad and cried into his chest. He hated to disappoint his Dad and he hated the sad look he got when he had to punish him or Dean.
John pushed Sam back and wiped at his face with his thumbs allowing his usual gruffness to fade into the background,
"I hate doing that, Sammy. It nearly kills me every time."
"I know." Sam managed through hitched breathes. "I'm sorry, Dad."
"You're forgiven." John says and gives Sam's shoulder a squeeze, "You gonna be ok?"
Although Sam doesn't think he'll ever sit again he gives Dad a small smile, "I think I'll live."
"Alright, how 'bout we show your brother I didn't kill you and then head out?"
While walking behind his sons on the way back to the Impala John sighs heavily. Evidently, Sam had forgotten the rest of his promise. He didn't have the heart to tell the kid he still had a week of hide tanning ahead of him after the whipping he just administered.
John Winchester always follows through with his promises.
So, this is my first spankfic. What did you think? I wasn't too sure, but then again, I never am. Bwhahaha.
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