John, Sam, Dean and Jamie Winchester (OC)
Prompt of Grandfather and this is part of Jamie!verse. Don't shy off at the risk of non-canon character. Jamie's a Winchester through and through. Spanking fic, don't like, don't read PG 13 for potty language. Gen.
This is so AU. Obviously.
AN: I liked the idea of Daddy!dean and Uncle Sammy so that is were we stand here. Because I am not quite sure how to have Dean wind up with a child (Well I know HOW it happens but I don't know quite who, what, where so….I am making it up.) That offends my canon-heart - it really does. But if I want John alive and Kripke won't give him to me. And if I want to satisfy my prompt make John a Grandpa then I have to torture canon into some kind of disfigured, maimed, convoluted thing.
Sorry about that.. Where guns and concealed and carry is a natural occurrence so the boys live in a house in Texas with 73 acres surrounding them. Plus our real boys call Texas home. It feels right to me to have it as a home base.
And because I don't condone spanking babies, Jamie is going to be 12. He has lived with Dean all his life (and his uncle and grandfather).
I hope I have not scared you off with all this; I just needed to give y'all a stepping off point. So we are all on the same page. (Damn this AU stuff!)
"Mr. Winchester, please come to the principal's office."
It is over the loudspeaker, right after morning announcements and isn't that just a bitch. The class offers a series of ooooss and ahhhhs. Jamie knows that no one really hates him but sixth grade mentality being what it is, everyone just naturally has to join in the communal thrill of someone else getting in trouble.
Jamie scuffs his chair back and grabs his backpack off the desk. He racks his brain. What could it be? To be honest, Jamie knows at least a half dozen principle worthy escapades he has been involved in within the last few months. But Jamie is careful, and a Winchester so he is crafty too. The chance that old Mrs. Marshall actually found out about any of that stuff wasn't likely. He didn't hate the principle not really, in fact if he was truthful, her lack of initiative made his job a lot easier.
Jamie likes easy. Easy is good.
But that doesn't mean that he can't take hard. Winchester and hard have met. So he isn't all that worried, he figures he will think on his feet and smooth over whatever he is being called on.
Jamie knows he has a face that Mrs. Marshall loves. Freckles, deep auburn hair so dark it was almost black and eyes like his father, deep and brilliant green. He will give her that patented Winchester smile and the old girl will be at his mercy.
Jamie opens door to the office and waves to Mrs. Humbolt. She clucks disapprovingly but smiles just the same. Mrs. Humbolt loves him. He drops in the hard plastic chairs lined up in front of the office, kicking his book bag up against the secretary's desk.
"Hey Mrs. Humbolt, what's up? Am I in trouble?" He arches a grin in her direction and he sees her melt a bit.
"Jamie Winchester, I have no idea but whatever it is, you better watch your step." She offers a matronly waggle of her fingers but gives him no more to go on than that.
Jamie settles then. There is not much to do except wait for Mrs. Marshall. Jamie doesn't wait well. He jigs his knee just a little, not really nervous but more anticipatory. A moment later and the door opens, there is a tall man exiting Mrs. Marshall's office. He looks at Jamie.
"Yes, sir." His daddy didn't raise a fool, being polite is just smart.
Jamie cocks his head at the guy but follows him in.
"Have a seat."
The chair is similar to the one out front except instead of plastic, it is wood. Jamie briefly glances around. Mrs. Marshall isn't here but he sits obediently anyway.
"I am Mr. Kennedy, the new principal here. Mrs. Marshall has taken an unexpected leave of absence."
Mr. Kennedy smiles at Jamie, but it is stilted at best. "I am trying to get to know the school, the students and making myself aware of those students who…may need a little extra guidance at school. Your record is…a little spotty Winchester. It looks like there is quite a bit of unresolved issues here. "
Jamie grins right back. "I am not sure I know what you mean Mr. Kennedy."
Mr. Kennedy leans forward a bit then and then eyes Jamie up. "It means Mr. Winchester, that I plan on watching you. You may have tormented poor Mrs. Marshall but I can read between the lines here and you need to know that I will not be tolerating your occasional less than stellar academic standings nor your lackadaisical attitude. There are quite a few entries here that point to you as a ringleader to inappropriate actions. Stealing the mascot to Middletown Elementary School. Some kind of disruption with the eighth grade cheerleaders. and what looks to be a continuing problem in the girls second floor bathroom." He stops then and looks pointedly at Jamie.
Jamie never wavers his smile. "Misunderstandings Mr. Kennedy. I was never held responsible for any of that. Mrs. Marshall's notes probably say that."
"Well, I am not Mrs. Marshall. You will find that out soon enough. I think it might be prudent for me to meet with your father. Just to touch base about things."
"My dad works out of town a lot. My grandfather's home, but he doesn't like to be disturbed unless it is really important. Do you have some kind of evidence that you can discuss with him? Otherwise, it would probably be best not to drag him in school unless you need too."
Mr. Kennedy nods, "It is wonderful that you are so concerned about your grandfather's well being but we need to see about getting someone in here. Sometime this week if possible. Consider this a warning Mr. Winchester. I intend to make sure that you are held accountable for these "miscommunications" if it turns out that you really are. I have a letter that explains my position. Take it home, have your father or grandfather sign it and return it to me tomorrow."
With a wave Mr. Kennedy motions Jamie to the door. "You are dismissed, Mr. Winchester."
Jamie stands and grabs the letter with a little more aggression than is needed and heads toward the door. "Nice talking to you Mr. Kennedy. For the record though, my name is Jamie. Mr. Winchester is my father."
The walk down the long driveway at home is filled with Jamie trying to get a handle on this school problem.
Jamie fingers the letter in his pocket. Things have suddenly gotten sticky. Jamie is a smart ass, he knows this but he has been able to avoid any real issues at home because Mrs. Marshall was such a ditz. It seems like Mr. Kennedy is not.
His dad isn't due home till the middle of the week that leaves his grandfather. It makes him a little nervous. His grandfather is pretty cool about most things but when it comes to pranks and stuff, his father is more likely to let it ride. Uncle Sam is probably the worse when it comes to school, at least he is lucky that Sam is with his father off hunting a black dog. It would be nice if he knew exactly what he was being called on. That way, he could direct the inquiry to the appropriate parent.
He grimaces. Not many people have three parents they have to juggle when it comes to discipline. Yeah, there are folks with step dads and shit like that but that is different then three blood relatives who all feel like they are the one responsible for making Jamie toe the line.
If dad were home, he might be able to let it slide, if Sam were in charge, well he might find himself nursing a sore ass but Gramps? That was tricky. His grandfather was a mountain of a man, not quite as tall as his uncle but all muscle despite the fact that his hunting had backed off a bit. He knew for a fact that both his Dad and his uncle had been known to back down when Gramps was pissed. Despite the gray in his hair he was formidable. Damn
Jamie ambles down to the front lawn and notices his grandfather under the hood of the Impala.
"Hand me the ¾ inch will ya?"
How the old man knew he was there is freaky but normal. Jamie is quiet, he has been trained by the best but out sneaking John Winchester is not likely.
Jamie slaps the wrench into his grandfather's hand without much preamble. He reverently touches the quarter panel of the old girl. She is still a workhorse and his father and grandfather keep her running better than the day she rolled off the line in Detroit but this hunt required the 4x4.
One of these days he is gonna drive her. Oh, he has driven every other car on the place but his dad holds the keys to the Impala and Jamie doesn't think he will ever be able to sit behind her wheel as long as his father is alive.
Gramps slips out from under the hood, carefully wiping his hands on a rag. He pulls the hood brace out and sets it down, firmly shutting the hood. He grabs a clean rag from the back of his jeans and wipes a quick swipe down the hood of his girl. She gleams in the late afternoon sun with a wax job that is so deep you could shave in the reflection.
One of these days. It's wishful thinking on Jamie's part but that is okay for now. He has bigger fish to fry.
"So, kiddo, how was school? " His grandfather rumbles low but gentle.
Jamie can't lie to John Winchester worth a damn and he will find out anyway. Best to get it out in the open while his grandfather is still on an Impala high. The old man is never happier than when he is under her hood.
"Well, uh…" he stumbles a bit, some of the self confidence that is so much a part of Jamie Winchester disintegrates when faced with his grandfather. "I have a new principal and he says he wants to meet you or Dad."
John Winchester sighs and straightens up. Jamie can see the resignation flood his grandfather's face. "Whacha do?"
"Nothin' Gramps, he's just being a bitch is all. He's got nothin' on me. Nothin' at all." Jamie scuffs his foot in the dirt, dropping his eyes.
"Language, Jamie." The rebuke is gentle but there nonetheless. "Let me see whatcha got there?" Jamie forgot he is holding the wrinkled note in his hand, now liberally smeared with grease from the ¾ in wrench.
His grandfather takes the note and scans it briefly, then shoots a dark look at Jamie.
"Is this shit true?"
Jamie hangs his head. He is not willing to admit to it, not really, but again lying is not really the best option. Still, the evidence is circumstantial at best, Marshall was never able to pin anything on him so the chances of Mr. Kennedy doing it are remote.
"I dunno. I don't know what is in the letter, Gramps. He just mentioned some shit that I might or might not be responsible for. "
"Might or might not be? You sound like your uncle. You are or you aren't." His grandfather drills a look at Jamie. Jamie doesn't like it.
"Can I see the letter? See what I am accused of?" Gramps snorts. "Yeah, you may be your father's son, but damn if there ain't a lot of Sam in ya too." He hands the letter to Jamie. Jamie reads quietly.
Jamie was responsible for the mascot. Who ever heard of the Middletown Muskrats anyway? That was a pretty damn funny prank except when the little shit bit him on the fingers. He grimaces. Freakin' rat.
The cheerleaders? Yup Jamie was the instigator on that all the way and the second floor girl's bathroom? Jamie was the only one involved in that. He might have a posse of followers but he wasn't planning on giving up the secrets of that restroom to anybody. There were countless more, but there was no use confessing to shit that no one knew about.
"Ya know. It is kind of information after the fact. How can that dick nail me for stuff that didn't happen under his watch. That's just wrong. And I bet you he can't even do that anyway."
"Maybe, maybe not. But I know I can, so please enlighten me." His grandfather leans up against the Impala, arms crossed and with that don't fuck with me look on his face.
Jamie settles next to him. Forces himself to remain loose. His grandfather is kind of easy to handle as long as you don't get him backed up. Uncle Sam still doesn't get that little piece of Winchester knowledge.
He shrugs but manages to make it look more indifferent than disrespectful. Gramps doesn't deal well with disrespectful.
"Yes, sir. It was me. But it was all in fun. I didn't really hurt anybody except that damn muskrat and that was just ridding the world of a rodent. " His grandfather chuffs a short laugh and Jamie knows he has him.
"Okay, kiddo. We'll talk to your principal and do what has to be done. Let's see if you have a leg to stand on with old shit in your file. You are gonna have to make pretty with the man so you best know that up front. I'll take you to school tomorrow so we can knock it out first thing. But Jamie, no more okay? I mean it." He tries to put a little bass in his voice, but Jamie knows it is all for show. His grandfather bumps him with his hip a little hard.
Gramps chuckles low. "So how did you take out the muskrat?"
Jamie and his grandfather wait outside of the principal's office.
Jamie sits on the same plastic chair from yesterday. Gramps eyes the lack of big people furniture up and settles for leaning his back against the large work area that separates the general populous from the office elite.
Mrs. Humbolt scurries behind them like a worker bee. "Mr. Winchester, I am sorry about the delay, Mr. Kennedy is tremendously busy this morning. "
"It's fine. He asked that I come in but we didn't have an appointment. We'll wait." He crosses his arms, a tell that means that it really isn't fine. But his words don't hold an edge and Mrs. Humbolt has no clue.
Jamie does though. He nudges his grandfather. "We can do this another day, Gramps."
John shakes his head. It is imperceptible to most but again, Jamie sees.
So they wait.
A half an hour later Mr. Kennedy opens the door to his office. Jamie expects that someone was in there, but it is obvious that is not the case. So Kennedy kept they waiting just because.
The man nods in John's direction, completely ignoring Jamie. "Mr. Winchester, I presume. Please come in my office."
Jamie stands and starts to follow his grandfather in. "Not you, Jamie." He leans on the first name, a reminder of Jamie's last words yesterday.
His grandfather motions to Jamie. "With me, kiddo." Then to Mr. Kennedy. "If Jamie is the subject of this conversation than he should be there." He offers a predatory smile. "I'm sure you understand."
Mr. Kennedy shuts his mouth with an audible click. He is not used to be circumvented in his environment. Jamie does his best to keep his smile under control. Mr. Kennedy is nowhere near a close match to an irritated John Winchester.
Jamie follows his grandfather in to the office.
Mr. Kennedy seems to have recovered from the table turning. "Thank you for coming Mr. Winchester. Let's get down to business, shall we? " He settles in the chair behind his desk and gestures to the chairs sitting in front of his desk. "Have a seat."
Jamie notices his grandfather stiffen. How convenient is it that the two narrow chairs are so much smaller than the big chair behind Mr. Kennedy's desk? "Thanks, we'll stand." Jamie was almost starting to sit, but he stops that momentum and stands quietly next to his grandfather.
"This meeting might be awhile Mr. Winchester. It is entirely up to you."
Mr. Kennedy pulls out Jamie's folder and taps it lightly. "Your grandson has had quite a run here at Pembroke. I take it you read the letter I gave you regarding his performance here."
Gramps nods tersely.
"Any thoughts, Mr. Winchester."
"My main thought is what kind of evidence do you have to support these allegations? "
Kennedy smiles slowly. "Not a lot Mr. Winchester, it seems that your grandson is extremely efficient at covering his tracks. That does not mean he did not engage in these indiscretions however. "
"Could be, could not be. In any case, let's cut to the chase."
Mr. Kennedy is not use to conversations ending so quickly. These things take time.
"What kind of punishment do you feel is sufficient for a suspected cheerleader, girls bathroom, mascot incident?" Grandpa lets his voice drop a notch. "Remember, Mr. Kennedy, all of this is supposition. I would think the punishment should reflect that."
Kennedy stutters for a moment, then regains his composure. "Detention with me for two weeks. Every day. And I expect to have no more incidents."
"Make it one week. Remember you have no evidence."
Kennedy thinks for a moment. "Fine, you drive a hard bargain, Mr. Winchester."
Jamie sputters. "Granps? One week every day with this dickhe…" His grandfather shoots him a stare that stops Jamie cold.
"Please excuse my grandson. He needs to work on his self control." Gramps reaches around to Jamie's shoulder and offers a less than comfortable squeeze.
"Apologize to your principal, Jamie."
Jamie is no dummy.
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry Mr. Kennedy." Jamie steels his expression to reflect nothing but quiet calm.
"Thank you, Mr. Kennedy. I am sure you will have no more problems with Jamie. Agreed?" Gramps looks pointedly at Jamie.
Suddenly, Mr. Kennedy is aware that the meeting is over and that John Winchester is starting to head out.
"Uh, thank you Mr. Winchester. " He puffs himself out and attempts to end the meeting in his court. "I expect to see you this afternoon, Jamie."
Jamie nods and follows his grandfather out of the office and then out to the parking lot without a word.
Gramps turns to Jamie at the car. "What a dickhead."
Jamie starts to smile but then stops. "How come you can say he is a dickhead and I can't?"
"Because I have been around a lot longer than you and you need to respect your principal. " John ruffles Jamie's hair. "Even if he is a dickhead of epic proportions. I will see you this afternoon after you get out of the joint. I'll pick you up at four." His grandfather grins and shoves Jamie back in the direction of school.
""Keep your nose clean, kiddo. I don't expect to be back here again."
Jamie tries. Really he does, but Kennedy is such a dick that by the end of the day Jamie is ready to kill himself. Really. He is only twelve but has a pretty extensive repertoire of cuss words at his disposal. Still no matter how or what he strings together in his head it can't begin to touch how he feels about Kennedy.
He is a pompous arrogant son of a bitch and now that Jamie is on his radar even walking down the hall gives Kennedy fodder.
"Mr. Winchester, hustle up, I don't want to see you late for class." Jamie bristles and mutters a yes, sir. Because Gramps was pretty emphatic about not being called in again.
He is hanging out between classes at his locker and tries to start up a conversation with Natalie Blackwood. Natalie is 13. Ah he loves older women. Mr. Kennedy comes up behind him and "Ahems" in his ear. "Move along, Winchester. No need to be blocking traffic in the hall. I am sure Ms. Blackwood is not interested in whatever you have to say." Natalie blushes brilliant crimson. She is a good girl and not used to principals even knowing her name. It makes Jamie want to kick him in the balls.
By seventh period, the last class of the day he has been called down the office once, dressed down in front of the student body at lunch time and verbally smacked down two more times in the hall.
He hates the man with a vengeance. And there is nothing he can do but yes, sir and keep his trap shut. Because Kennedy is smart and not done a damn thing really but torment him. Hasn't touched a hair on his head and the whole school knows the rep that Jamie has. He is a smart ass. He pushes envelopes and even if he is good-natured there are a few teachers who feel that having Kennedy at the helm and making an example of Jamie is not really a bad thing.
Day number one in detention is spent writing lines of all things. Not on a blackboard but in a copybook. Talk about archaic punishments. That is when Jamie gets the great idea to write some lines of his own. He grins at his own ballsyness. Kennedy wants to see the written word…so be it.
The next day, in the boys' bathroom he pulls out a sharpie and writes a completely impossible position for Kennedy to be in no matter how flexible the dude might be on the wall. It is stupid and dumb but he does it anyway. He is pretty proud of the wording but even more proud of the picture that accompanies it. Fucking A. He is putting the finishing touches on when Kennedy walks into the boys' bathroom. Kennedy is positively radiating happiness at his find. He crooks a finger toward Jamie.
"I knew you would screw up some how Winchester. In my office. Now."
Jamie follows Kennedy through the halls toward his office. He knows his grandfather is not going to be happy and figures he will be less happy.
Gramps shows up to the office 20 minutes later. He snags Jamie outside of the office with a hand to his neck and goose walks him into Kennedy's office.
Mr. Kennedy is sitting at his desk.
"I just wanted to show you your grandson's artwork. " He hands a picture of Jamie's sharpie creation to Gramps. Granps scowls. "Defacing school property is a criminal offense Mr. Winchester. However, I am feeling particularly generous today and if Jamie adds another week on in detention and spends today cleaning his mess up as well as the rest of the boys' bathroom. I will let this go."
"Not a problem, Mr. Kennedy." Gramps is rumbling low and he squeezes Jamie's neck purposefully but Jamie already knows what is expected.
"I'm sorry Mr. Kennedy. " He bites it out harshly but looks at Mr. Kennedy in the eye. "It was childish and inappropriate." Jamie hopes that will do because right now he can't see straight he is so angry.
"As you can see Mr. Winchester I am a reasonable man. I hope that this will end any further discussions."
Kennedy dismisses them both with a nod and now Jamie realizes that his grandfather has been put in a difficult position. He can't even argue Jamie's innocence because there is nothing innocent about pornographic graffiti in the bathrooms with your principal as the topic.
"Gramps, I am sorry."
"Can it Jamie. " They are walking down the hall. "We'll talk about it tonight after detention."
Jamie sighs. Talks with Gramps are not really a good thing.
Dinner is quiet with nothing but the sound of dinnerware and an occasional , "Pass the potatoes." But Jamie gets through it and Gramps does too. Finally after dinner Gramps motions to Jamie to come into the living room.
"Jamie, what do you have to say for yourself. "
Jamie sniffs a little. "There is no excuse Gramps except the dickwad was harassing me all day."
"Do you think I am going to call you down for dickhead and not dickwad?" Gramps is clearly mad. "And just because the man is dogging you does not mean you draw porn on the bathroom walls "
"What's gotten in to you, boy?"
"I dunno, he's tracking me like a hellhound Gramps. It's making me a little crazy. I promise you I'll do better. Really. I'm sorry for getting you involved in this."
"Well, I am involved Jamie." Jamie gives him Uncle Sam's trademark puppy dog stare. According to Sam it never saved his ass but Gramps indulges Jamie. He really does and Jamie feels a little bad about exploiting it but a kid has to do what a kid has to do.
Gramps runs his hand through his hair. "Last chance Jamie. If I have to come up to that school again I can promise you it will not end well. Hit the rack , boy and I do not want to hear another word out of you tonight." He mutters to himself as Jamie darts up the steps.
"Damn, I must be getting old."
Day number two in detention Kennedy decided to make him stand in a corner. In a FUCKING CORNER. No one would know it of course, they were in Kennedy's office but who does that shit? Jamie had some experience with detention. Never was it like this.
Jamie prides himself on being smooth and cool and letting shit run off his back. But when he leaves Kennedy's office on Wednesday, he is spitting nickels. He opens the front door of the school and finds himself in the middle of one of those freakish Texas downpours. He trots down the steps at the front of the school eyes searching for his grandfather and the Impala.
Instead he sees the truck and his father at the wheel. He rolls his eyes before he gets anywhere near the car, shit now he is gonna have to hear Dad ream him out.
Dad leans over and opens the door for him as Jamie clambers up into the truck. Jamie sniffles, rivulets of rain dripping down his hair.
"Son." His father nods and hands him a towel, Jamie accepts it and runs it over his face and hair.
Jamie glances a look at his father. Notices no new bandages or sutures. "How'd the hunt go, you and Uncle Sam okay?"
"Fine, one black dog down. How'd detention go?"
Jamie can't bring himself to talk about Mr. Kennedy and his ideas on detention so he offers a wordless shrug.
"That bad huh?"
Jamie just shifts his weight in the seat and turns toward the window. The rain is sluicing down the sides of the truck. He doesn't want to talk about standing in Kennedy's office with his nose to the corner like he was four years old.
"Jamie?" Dad is a little insistent now, puts just a little bit of growl in his voice.
"M'fine…just cold and pissed is all. Sorry Dad."
Dad cranks up the heater in the truck and starts the drive back to the house.
"So about this detention. "
Jamie ignores the gentle opening.
Jamie knows it's not fair but he is angry with Kennedy and a little angry with himself for getting caught. Angry at Dad too for pushin' it.
"Jeeze, Dad. Stop it with the inquisition will ya?" Jamie's voice is dripping with insolence.
Dad does stop it. But Jamie can tell that he is pissed now. He can feel his father radiating a slow burn from the drivers seat. Despite the deluge, he wishes he was walking home in the rain.
They pull up in front of the house and Dad gets out first, slamming the truck door harder than necessary. Jamie grabs his backpack and promptly does the same. They both stalk to the front door of the house. Jamie heads upstairs to his bedroom, Dad heads to the kitchen. He bumps into his uncle in the hallway and doesn't offer an "excuse me." Just rolls on past like Sam is not there. He knows he slammed him pretty hard because Jamie's shoulder hurts. Running into Uncle Sam is like running into a brick wall.
"What's the rush, kid?"
"Leme alone, Sam."
Sam arches a brow at Jamie. "What no uncle in front of that Sam, Jamie?"
Wouldn't Sam be the one who rises to the bait that Jamie has been throwing around like chum in shark-infested waters? But Jamie can't help that he wants to fight.
"Just. Leave. Me. Alone." He enunciates every word like he is speaking to a toddler.
Sam twitches his lip a bit, like he smells something unpleasant. "Great, Jamie. Alone it is. Hit your room and stay there till I tell you otherwise. Don't bother putting on your radio, or TV. Let's just consider this an old fashioned time out. Maybe you need to sort this shit out by yourself."
Jamie turns. What the fuck is it with everyone? First Mr. Kennedy and corner time, now Uncle Sam in time out? What is he fucking four?
"Just leave me the fuck alone, UNCLE SAM! Fuck off!" He is yelling it now. There is no way the whole house did not hear. His Dad in the kitchen, his grandfather in the living room and of course, his uncle who is standing a foot away.
Uncle Sam grabs him by his front of his tee shirt and jerks him forward and off the ground like Jamie weighs no more than a loaf of bread. He drops him just as quickly then bends his six foot four frame down to Jamie's eye level.
Uncle Sam, usually the voice of reason, is smoking mad. Jamie thinks briefly that he may just have written his death sentence.
"I think you and I need to have a talk, Jamie-boy." Sam grabs Jamie again and drags him into his room. He opens the door and shoves Jamie in with a little more force than is necessary. But Jamie doesn't loose his footing, he just skids across the hardwood floor and slumps on the bed.
Sam stands in the doorway, all shoulders and muscle and face grim. A moment later his grandfather and father show up standing behind Sam.
Great. Now he has the three musketeers lined up to kick his ass into next week.
"What's goin' on, Sam?" Dad asks voice still a little rough after Jamie's trip home.
"Jamie here thinks that he can tell me to 'fuck off". I beg to differ." Sam doesn't look at his brother but just continues to glare at his nephew. Dad shoulders through the hulk that is his brother and stands in Jamie's room.
"S'at true, Jamie?"
"Of course it's true, Dad. I'm sure you heard it in the kitchen." Why Jamie is being so damn stupid is beyond his capability to understand. He just wants them out of his room and leaving him alone.
"Let me handle this Dean. He's pissed at me for whatever reason. It doesn't concern you." Sam talks quietly because Jamie is Dean's kid but they all have had a hand in raising him.
"It does, Sam. I should have handled this in the truck." Sam offers a quizzical look at his big brother. "Jamie blasted me not 10 minuets ago."
"And what do you intend on doing to the kid?" That's Gramps standing a foot behind Sam.
Sam doesn't think twice. "Apply a little hand to ass, Dad. It's a Winchester thing."
His grandfather snorts. "Then it should be me."
Both Dad and Uncle Sam pull their eyes from Jamie, and really Jamie is glad not to be the center of attention at this moment but he figures it won't last long.
"Dad?" Dean Winchester is not used to his father spanking Jamie, it has happened before but not in a while so Jamie understands why his father is standing there with a quizzical expression on his face.
"Dean, this all started on my watch. When I got the letter from Kennedy, I just glossed it all over. Maybe if I had been a little tougher a few days ago we wouldn't be in this situation today."
Gramps glares at Jamie and really? He thinks he would rather have Sam beat his ass.
If his ass is going to be beat that is.
"Look Gramps, Dad, Uncle Sam….I…I'm sorry okay? I was just pissed off and y'all wouldn't leave me alone. "
Gramps turns his eyes to Jamie. "Ya know, kiddo, I've been hearing a tons of sorrys coming out of your mouth but I haven't seen a lot of actual contrition."
Jamie stands up then, eyes angry. "That's because there is no contrition, Gramps. I mean, I am sorry about you and Dad and Uncle Sam. But I could give a rat's ass about Kennedy. He is a piece of shit."
His grandfather nods his head in sympathy. "True enough."
Dad tries again. "Come on Dad. Hell, all Jamie does is give you that Sammy look and you just give in." Jamie knows Dad is giving Gramps a way out. Dad doesn't like punishing Jamie, it is something Jamie has counted on for years, but Gramps likes it even less. "It's okay Dad, I got this. He's my kid."
"And he's my grandson, Dean. Sammy's puppy-dog look never worked much on me. I think I can handle Jamie's version."
Uncle Sam pinches his nose, like he has a headache coming on and despite how worried he is, Jamie thinks it is kind of funny. No matter how many times his family calls his gigantor uncle ,Sammy, it makes him giggle. He snorts a quick little bark.
"What's so funny, Jamie?" That's Dad.
"Uncle Sam is so not a Sammy, Dad."
"Gotta agree with the kid on that one. Glad somebody finally has seen the light." Uncle Sam shoots Jamie an appreciative look. But then hardens his face.
"Dad, Dean…you guys let whatever happened go between you and Jamie. Judgment call, I got that. But I am not gonna let a 12 year old tell me to fuck off. It's my decision so I am the one who gets to dole out the punishment."
Jamie looks from uncle to father to grandfather. He can't believe there is actually a competition to see who gets to spank his ass.
"Guys! What is goin' on here? Are we gonna draw straws or something? My ass is at stake and I so don't like being the subject of this conversation. Why don't we all just let it go as a lesson learned and call it a day?"
All three turn on Jamie. He doesn't know who glares worse but all three of them are standing in his bedroom, arms crossed and scowls on their faces.
Jamie rolls his eyes and settles back on the bed. There is nothing he can do but wait for them to duke it out, rock, paper scissors, or whatever, for the privilege of whacking his ass. How fucked up is this?
Suddenly though John Winchester decides to take the bull by the horns.
"This is between me and Jamie." Dean starts to say something but Jamie can see his father thinking better of it. Uncle Sam though? As usual he doesn't give up lightly.
"Dad I mean it. Would you have let me get away with telling you to fuck off?"
"No, but you and I would have never gotten this far because I would have kicked your ass after the principal called me in. " He turns to Jamie "We have very specific rules about keeping things under the radar and cheerleader incidents, girls bathroom occurrences and the death of a fuckin' muskrat may seem pretty silly but they caught Kennedy's attention. Jamie knows better and truthfully so do I." He turns back to Uncle Sam "This one is on me Sam. Got it?"
Jamie drops his head. It's true. He may not have the nomadic lifestyle his father and uncle had but the same rules apply. He is a hunter in a family of hunters and they need to keep their noses clean.
Sam offers the bitch face but acquiesces. He knows the buck stops with John Winchester. And the man might be Jamie's grandfather but he is Sam's father first and Sam knows when to back down.
Sam nods once and offers a low "Yes, sir." But it is clear and he holds his father's eye. Jamie knows Uncle Sam defers to his father but it the deference of respect. Uncle Sam relaxes a little and leans himself into the doorframe. "I'll be downstairs."
Dad reaches over to Jamie and ruffles his hair, still damp from the rain. "When are you gonna learn not to fuck with Dad?" He cups Jamie's chin with his hand and brushes his thumb against his cheek gently. Jamie doesn't protest the touch, his Dad has always been a bit of a snuggler. But then Dad stands and nods to his father too then walks out of Jamie's room.
Then it is just Jamie, and Gramps and suddenly Jamie wishes the rest of his family was back in the room.
Grandpa reaches behind himself and shuts Jamie's door.
"Just so you know . This punishment doesn't have anything to do with Kennedy. It has to do with us."
"But it's all Kennedy's fault." Jamie can hear the whine in his voice but he doesn't care.
Gramps shakes his head. "No, Jamie. It's your fault. Kennedy didn't make up the shit you did, he just made a stink about it. You knew if you got caught it could be a problem."
Jamie nods. It's true. But he never gets caught, ever and if by some chance he does find himself in hot water he always finds a way out of it. It looks like he has run out of luck in that department.
Grandpa sits down on the bed and pats his lap.
"Gramps…over your lap?"
"Yup. Let's go, kiddo."
Jamie walks the step to his grandfather and drapes himself over his lap. His grandfather's thighs feel like steel under his belly and chest. The thought of his belly reminds him of the feeling going on there. Not really butterflies, more like vamps or something. It clenches nervously at the thought of his grandfather's rather hard hand. He takes a deep breath and tries to quiet the tremble that seems to start every time he finds himself in this position.
Gramps calmly starts a quick flurry of swats to Jamie's butt. Jamie doesn't have time to do much but offer a sharp yelp. And then another.
He tries to shift his weight off his grandfather. It is not disobedience, more self-preservation. His ass just wants to get away from John Winchester's right hand. His grandfather just pulls him in to his hip a little tighter and continues on spanking.
Gramps peppers his ass liberally with swats. Left, right, center, thighs. There is not a piece of ass that doesn't get a healthy dose of hand. He tries not to cry. Really. But damn the man has an swing like Derek Jeter. Jamie prides himself on being tough but Gramps is tougher. Finally he just gives in to the burning sting and sobs over his grandfather's lap.
Gramps swats a few more times, but they are half hearted at best. He gives Jamie a quick haul up from his lap and pulls him into a fierce hug. Jamie allows himself to melt into Gramps. He takes a deep shuddering breath and breaths in his grandfather's smell. It's gun oil and grease and something else that Jamie can't quite define.
And his grandfather means it. He isn't mad or pissed or anything. Gramps threads a hand through Jamie's hair stroking him gently and murmuring quiet nonsense words. It makes Jamie feel a little younger than he is but he doesn't care. Gramps hugs different than Dad and Sam. Sam is all crushing and hard. Dad's hugs are a little briefer, often followed by a head tousle or a light cuff but Gramps? Gramps hugs hard and deep like he never wants to let Jamie go.
It has always been that way for his grandfather. Jamie knows his family has had some hard bumps through the years. He's heard the stories. He knows that Gramps was a different man when Dad and Uncle Sam were younger. He doesn't know if that has something to do with it or not but it's okay.
He isn't embarrassed by the tears and sniffles. Kids just naturally cry when a Winchester decides they need a physical reminder to stay in line.
Jamie drags himself away because even though he doesn't care about crying on Gramps' shoulder, he would prefer not to blow his nose on him. His grandfather must know too, because he hands Jamie a few Kleenex and lets him back off a bit.
Jamie blows and wipes, dragging first the Kleenex then his hand under his nose.
"You okay, Jamie?"
Jamie nods and sniffles again. "My ass hurts." He whimpers it out, soft and low.
"Good, it's supposed to." Gramps isn't gloating or any thing, its just a statement of fact.
"So, Sam wants you in here for awhile, thinking bout your crimes huh?"
Jamie forgot about Sam and his time out. "I think I should get time served or something."
"Maybe." Gramps smiles. "Still, you oughta take it up with Sam since he is the one who wanted you here in the first place."
Jamie doesn't want to, not now, so he just shakes his head. He wants to lay down on his bed, on his belly and commiserate by himself.
"Suit yourself." Gramps drops a hand to Jamie's arm and then a presses a brief kiss to his head. "Let's try to avoid this shit again, okay?"
"Fine by me."
Gramps leaves and Jamie is thankful. He lays down and wishes for not the first time in his life, that he didn't like to sleep on his back.
Two hours later, Sam raps on his door. He taps Jamie's foot. "Hey sleepy head, dinner's almost ready."
Jamie moans as he sits up, he tries to scamper off his ass as soon as it hits the bed.
Uncle Sam grins white in the darkened bedroom.
"I'm glad you think its funny. " Jamie grimaces than stands up slowly.
"No, not funny. I am thinking of all the times I was in your position. Believe me, I feel your pain."
"C'mon, kiddo. Your father made that kickass chili you love so much and I even tried the cracklin' corn bread. You know, the kind in the cast iron skillet? It's looks good."
Jamie is hungry but the thought of sitting down for dinner makes him squeamish.
His ass really does hurt.
Sam looks at him. "You can stand at the counter. That's half the fun of chili, you can eat it standing up or watching the game or whatever. Don't ever say your dad and I aren't lookin' out for you."
His grandfather isn't there for diner. That is kind of unusual, Gramps likes his father's chili as much as Jamie does. The corn bred is fabulous and he laughs with his uncle and his father at his attempts to eat standing up. It feels good not to be angry anymore. He knows that tomorrow he has school again and that means Kennedy but tonight it is all-good.
Thursday morning, Jamie is still a little sore and is not relishing sitting in a hard school chair all day but he'll never get out of school just because of that. Still his Dad drops him off at the front of the school so he doesn't have to ride the bus.
Kennedy is nowhere to be seen at homeroom or first period but at the beginning of second JR Banner grabs Jamie at his locker. "Dude…did you see Kennedy's face? The rumor is he had a car accident or something but it looks like someone just slugged him to me."
Kennedy avoids him all day, which is stranger than shit considering he has been hounding him for three days. He catches sight of Mr. Kennedy at the auditorium during a mandatory school assembly and JR is right. Kennedy's eye is black and it looks like his nose might have been broken too.
Jamie has been involved in too many sparring sessions not to know what it looks like to have bobbed when you should have weaved. This is no car accident. It looks like Kennedy just pissed of the wrong person this time.
He shows up for detention but Kennedy's not there. Mrs. Humbolt smiles when she tells him his detention has been lifted. She seems surprised. That kind of stuff doesn't happen much. She offhandedly mentions that Mr. Kennedy seemed a bit shaken by his car accident.
Maybe he just decided to cut Jamie a break. Jamie doubts it.
There is no way in hell Kennedy is cutting him any thing. Jamie calls his dad to pick him up but it turns out his grandfather is already waiting at the front door of the school. An hour early.
Gramps doesn't say anything. Jamie doesn't ask. But he notices his grandfather's right hand knuckles are split. Like maybe he punched something a little hard yesterday.
John Winchester has been a hunter all his life. It was easy to find Kennedy. There were no cameras around. No witnesses. Just Kennedy and Winchester. The fight was over before it began.
John Winchester is just like his grandson. No concrete evidence to support any real crime.
He makes sure of it.