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Title: 1-2-3 Not So Magic
Description: Sam then Dean in trouble


Superboys - April 25, 2011 03:15 AM (GMT)
Two short stories one with Sam the second with Dean bothing reaching the magic number of three, the number which doesn't make John very happy and when John's not happy nobody is happy.
Warning discipline fic... but too bad


Triple Trouble

John’s eyes were wide with anger and disbelief. He absolutely could not believe either one of his sons would be this reckless. And if one did he definitely leaned towards it being his eldest. But there it was in front of him; Sam knowing he did wrong by looking at the ground and avoiding his father’s gaze. John ordered his son along with the shaken boy that accompanied him to the car. He could only hope that he could convince the teen that this was all a hoax and misunderstanding not the reality that was the demented and evil spirit that had chased the two boys around the cemetery until they had escaped to the other side of the wrought iron fence.

With keeping his voice even and calm he thought that by the time he had dropped the boy in front of his house that he believed that such an event was the possibility of an elaborate hoax. Kevin absently nodded that he was fine and lumbered off towards his front door leaving Sam in the backseat alone and realizing what he had done was not only wrong but had serious consequences.

“Get up here,” John ordered quietly speaking of the empty passenger seat.

Sam thought about declining the offer but didn’t particularly want to create a scene in front of Kevin’s house. The kid who he had wanted nothing more to scare the pants off of, the kid that had driven him to this reckless act and the kid that he felt was responsible for the punishment Sam knew he would be enduring in the very near future. Kevin Gleason was a first class brat and a bully and Sam merely wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. So with that in mind he told him the graveyard was haunted and he should check it out with him. Sam knew that there was a vengeful spirit in residence but also that it had limitations, limitations that Sam knew they could overcome. But things had gotten a bit dicey when it turned out that the bully was a grade A wuss. The kid totally panicked tripped and banged his head and then decided to curl up into a ball of crying shame. Sam had a hell of a time getting him to the front gate and when he finally did it was just in time to meet John who was heading in to the cemetery to see what the commotion was about.

Seeing John scared Sam a hell of a lot more than the ghost did. Kevin on the other hand was happy for the ride home. Now as the younger Winchester slammed the car door and put his seatbelt on he feared for what was to come.

John put the car in drive and pulled away and kept it at the speed limit. He gripped the wheel hard his knuckles white and his eyes looking forward. “I have one word for you,” he croaked out. “Three.”

Sam looked over his face showing the confusion as his brain ran to catch up. He couldn’t figure out what he was missing, what did the number three mean? Then it came crashing down and came down hard. Sam’s confusion quickly turned to panic his face twisted as he turned towards his father. “Dad please no, I’m sorry I was wrong so wrong.”

“Yes you were and that is why I didn’t find it necessary to say the preliminary numbers of one and two you my boy jumped right to three.”

Being counted to three by John Winchester was something you never wanted to happen. It had happened to Sam one other time when he was six or seven and it still caused his heart to stutter when he recalled the event. He knew Dean had knocked on that door more than once and even pushed John to four at one time. This had all the connotations of a disaster and Sam was already thanking his lucky stars that Monday was a teachers institute and he wouldn’t have to face a long day of sitting in hard chairs. Of course that then meant another day with his father breathing down his neck with who knows what planned to make his existence unbearable. But who was he kidding he deserved it and expected nothing less from his father. If John was nothing else at least he was consistent.

The remainder of the ride was spent in awkward silence and Sam trying to calm his shaking hands. What had he been thinking, how did he think this wouldn’t come back to bite him on the ass? Somehow John always sniffed out trouble whenever either one of his boys was even contemplating it and managed to show up just in time for the ending credits and the discipline. Hell the man was supposed to be gone until tomorrow at the earliest but as luck would have it the previous hunt had ended early and John figured he would come home for some quality time with his boys. Only now the quality time won’t be shared between John, Dean and Sam but between John, Sam and John’s wide leather belt.

They pulled to the curb outside the apartment they were renting. Climbing out of the car Sam slowed his long legs down stalling for as long as possible but John’s look of impatience forced the teen to double time it to get to the front door before his father blew a gasket. He knew Dean had a date that night and wouldn’t be home for hours yet. He was grateful for the privacy in his moment of humiliation. He of course knew Dean would understand having been in this position oh so many times but for Sam it was personal, private and held in disdain.

He kept his head down as he shuffled into the living room following the sound of John’s boots on the worn hardwood floor. He stopped and tried to stand up straight while his eyes were locked and loaded on the floor.

“Eyes front Sam,” John demanded. “Now you want to tell me why I find you with some poor unsuspecting kid in the middle of haunted cemetery?”

Sam resisted the urge to shrug and tried to come up with some kind of plausible reason for his actions. “I didn’t know?” Sam tried.

“Bull you knew all about that cemetery, now if I recall each lie gets you another swat. Try again!”

“Dad Kevin’s a jerk and he bullies kids.”

“Okay, so?”

“So I wanted to give him something to be scared of.”

“And you wanted to show off in the process too right?”

Sam did shrug this time as he realized his father was right on the money.

“Son you know shrugging or saying I don’t know is not nor has ever been an answer. And it also adds to your count. Now you are up two.”

Sam damned his luck, but that had always been the rules, John never accepted “I don’t know” as an answer. He once again searched the floor for an answer. “I wanted him to be scared and I knew how to do it.”

“Eyes front Samuel, if I have to tell you again I’ll be adding more to your count and I really don’t think you want that.”

“No sir,” Sam said straining to keep his eyes trained on the wall in front of him. “I knew there was a ghost in the graveyard and Kevin kept boasting about how brave he was and so I dared him to go to the cemetery. He said okay so we went, no big deal,” Sam finished as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Except it is a big deal son and you know that. You took a civilian into a situation you knew could get dangerous. You put him and yourself in harms way for absolutely no reason,” John said his voice gaining momentum and volume. “You had no back-up and no real idea what this spirit was capable of.”

“I knew it wouldn’t get past the iron gate,” Sam snapped instantly regretting it his eyes retreating back to the floor.

“Sure the iron gate that was too far away for you to easily drag your dazed and confused companion. You never and I mean never use the supernatural to even out a score with a friend or enemy. Dammit son you know better. You are the last the person I would expect to pull something this arrogant and stupid,” John yelled gaining energy. “I don’t even know what to say to you.”

Sam remained quiet ready to move on. He hated John’s high octane lectures. He knew he was wrong and just wanted the second portion of the evening to happen. He also knew John figured this too and decided to keep the pace languid and Sam hanging on that hook.

“That’s another one kiddo now keep your eyes front. You can’t even bear to look up because you knew what stupid thing you were a part of. How would you feel if that kid got hurt?”

“Terrible,” Sam admitted knowing he didn’t think his plan through very well especially the part about getting caught.

“You hate the entire supernatural world and fight against our involvement every day, but now you use it like a toy. Now it is something at your beck and call for your amusement or convenience.”

Sam was trying to remember how many extra swats John had counted. He hated this whole ordeal the numbers escalating along with John’s anger. Neither he nor Dean were strangers to physical punishment but unlike most parents John never stopped with the counting game. He even had Dean at two a few months back. But it did work despite the fact that Dean was now nearly seventeen. Now he was in the middle of this numerical hell and berating himself far more than his father ever could.

TBC

Superboys - April 25, 2011 03:16 AM (GMT)
Sorry I meant discipline fic not too bad

aislinn - April 25, 2011 03:24 PM (GMT)
:clap More please.


Superboys - April 30, 2011 12:34 AM (GMT)
Sorry I made you wait so long for the conclusion...here it is

“Are you listening to me?” John asked.

“Yes sir,” Sam answered his eyes flickering around.

But John rightly so didn’t seem to believe him and Sam soon felt an iron grip on his bicep as he was being propelled to the rickety kitchen table. His face soon met the top of the Formica still a bit sticky from breakfast that morning. There was no doubt John would be using his belt as that was a given when you hit three and it was generally followed up by extra chores and training. Sam felt beyond humiliated as he submitted knowing there was no other choice in the matter. He had done wrong and deserved some type of punishment and somehow his father always managed to pick one that Sam hated the most. Perhaps because that is the one that John chose the most. Of course grounding him and making sure Dean watched over him to ensure he complied wasn’t fair to the elder brother and John really made an effort not to punish Dean for Sam’s indiscretions; well at least most of the time. Sam tried to go with the routine remembering Dean’s advice a while back that the old man went just a bit easier on you when you complied.

“See kid trust me if you are compliant and submissive and agree with him and just take what he dishes out then it will go much easier for you,” Dean explained a few years ago.

“And how do you know that?” Sam had asked.

“Because I made up my own little experiment, I got in trouble twice for similar issues and played it both ways. I was all yes sir no sir one time and the other I gave him a moderate amount of lip and fought him a bit. The outcomes were very different; he definitely took the edge off when I was all repentant.”

Sam didn’t know whether to buy it or not but figured it couldn’t hurt. His brother had to be the only one in the world that would think that experiment was a stroke of genius.

But now here he was his cheek to the table; his dad pulling his belt through its loops and he was in for the ride of his life thus far.

“You know I hate this Sam,” John was saying. “But you just don’t seem to have grasped the problem here.”

Sam managed to mumble out a yes sir and thought that though John may hate this Sam bet he hated it more. The first stroke came crashing down and was quite the eye opener. Sam couldn’t help but squirm as the second blast hit him. When the third found its mark he fought to stand up. He didn’t really recall thinking about it, it just happened.

“Not even close kiddo,” John said as he gently pushed Sam back to the table.

Back where he started Sam realized the intensity had built up a bit since the last time he had hit the naughty number three. Of course he was much younger then too and John had taken that into account. At least as the fourth stripe was laid Sam had managed to get his arms on the table and they were able to cradle his face and head.

John had been busy reminding him as to why he was in the position but the blood rushing through his ears kind of drown him out. He tried to pay close attention to anything that resembled a question so he could give the appropriate response. Yes sir I understand why I’m here, no sir I will never do it again, yes sir I was wrong and dangerous and so on and so forth. Generally John kept quiet in the air during an ordeal such as this but his anger just couldn’t keep his lecturing in check. Sam did have to admit it did provide a bit of a distraction to the mangling his behind was taking.

“Next time you don’t tell me ‘I don’t know’ or shrug your shoulders at me, you definitely don’t lie and if you do the crime then you keep your eyes up and forward and if you can’t then you should have never put yourself in that position. I know you regret your actions and I certainly hope we won’t be here again,” John said sliding his belt back to its rightful place.

Sam was released back to his room and realized that after wanting nothing more than for Dean not to be there now wished with all his might that his big brother was there. He would console Sam and tell him stories about the time he had hit four and not only gotten pummeled but how it had happened right in the middle of a suburban street. Just the memory of the story made Sam’s smile ever so slightly.

So who wants to know about Dean getting to four???

aislinn - May 4, 2011 07:46 PM (GMT)
Oh, the wait was worth it. Loved it. John had to do what he had to, but sometimes it seems he was a bit hard on the boys.

*raises hands in air and jumps up and down while yelling* The Dean girl in me wants to know what happened to him when he hit 4....pretty please.

Superboys - May 7, 2011 11:19 PM (GMT)
okay then with that enthusiastic response I will give you the next story in its entirety

Fourwarned



They had been in town for two weeks as John worked a hunt in the next town. Dean had immediately found a group of friends that were into hanging out making out and raising all around hell. Sam was somewhat diffident as always but he managed to latch onto a couple of kids.

With the hunt being so close John was able to be around a lot and Dean found himself a tad frustrated at losing his freedom. He was so used to having quite a bit of independence and with Sam being 12 Dean could leave for awhile without too many problems. Sammy was very good about keeping mum about Dean’s habits when John was away. He had understood the times when Dean had covered for him and was now mature enough to return the favor. Dean always made sure he was home by the time Sam went to bed and never left him for more than a few hours. But it was now rolling into hour number three and getting quite late as Dean stood outside the supposed haunted house. This was so far past his better judgment it wasn’t even in the same solar system, but Dean never backing down from a dare stood his ground. “Just go in shine the flashlight when you get to the front bedroom upstairs and then come back down,” Brad said.

Dean knew better than this, John had drilled into their heads that when it was said a place was haunted don’t go in! It was said over and over and expected to be followed at all times. So it was merely keeping up appearances, his tough exterior not being tarnished that he was willing to be out when he wasn’t supposed to, walk right into a house that probably held some kind of malevolent spirit and totally disobey on every level. But hey he was double dog dared and nothing would stop this quest.

Dean blew out a mouthful of air and gave one last look at his posse and walked past the for sale sign staked in the yard to the front door. He smiled as he opened the storm door and turned once again as he shoved the final barrier aside and made his way into the house. He took a moment to get his bearings and allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness of his surroundings. He waited to see if the hair went up on his neck but so far nothing. Maybe this was a hoax and he could just get through it without incident. He smiled a toothy grin and switched on his flashlight and made his way to the staircase.

Outside the small assemblage saw the flashlight come on. “He’s in the living room,” Cody said. “Let’s see if he has the spine to go upstairs,” he said as he glanced up at the dark window.

Suddenly a dark form passed by the bedroom window causing Cody to gargle his words and he could only manage to point. Brad and Lisa looked up trying to figure out what had rendered their friend tongue tied but soon saw the shape pass by the window one more time. Brad wasted no time yanking the car door open and fumbling with the keys dropping them on the floor. Cody yelled for Lisa to get in the car but she was half way up the walk. “We can’t leave Dean he is in the house,” she said watching the beam of light leave the living room area.

“Yeah well if you want to warn him you are going to have to follow him upstairs,” Brad yelled shoving the key into the ignition.

Lisa was okay with opening the door and yelling but she in no way was going any further or was she okay with being left behind. She turned whispered an apology into the night air and turned tail and ran back to the car.
Dean climbed the carpeted steps to a hallway and turned himself around so he could find the bedroom in question; the bedroom that a murder suicide supposedly took place causing the believed haunting. The house was just as if the family decided to walk out one night leaving everything as it was; the furniture all remained and it seemed as if he was intruding on family time.

He made his way into the bedroom and to the front window but when he looked out his friends were gone, vanished, no kids no car no ride back to the apartment. The distraction did not help Dean realize there was a shadow on the wall. The streetlight allowed a trickle of illumination into the room and it was enough for Dean to recognize he was no longer alone.

The hair was most definitely standing up on his arms, neck and every other part of his body. He was ill prepared and he hoped he could just get the hell out of there without any bodily damage. But it was no use as he tried to evade the large shape that had him locked up in no time asking what he was doing there. Dean prepared to fight what would be a losing battle when something seemed very familiar about his predator.

“Dad?” he questioned.

“What the hell?” John asked spinning the teen around and dragging him to the window. “Oh you better have one fantastic story to tell me,” he said quickly folding his arms and giving Dean the death stare.

“No not really,” Dean said figuring that was the best he had to offer.

The anger was dripping from John as he stared at his eldest. “Well then let me tell you a story, this one has words and numbers. You are out without permission leaving your brother and that is ONE. You are in a hunt without any idea of what you are hunting or any sort of preparation both of which you know better and that’s TWO,” John said counting his son down to certain disaster.

“But Dad I wasn’t hunting, I didn’t prepare cause it was just a dare,” Dean said suddenly realizing that was the dumbest thing he could have done.

“You did this on a dare? A dare? That’s THREE for pure STUPIDITY!” John yelled grabbing his son by the ear and dragging him towards the door.

“But he double dog dared me,” Dean tried.

This only caused Johns grip to tighten.

Finally with Dean’s ear a bright shade of red they went around the corner to the Impala.

“So I get back into town and figure I’ll check out this house that rumor has that it’s haunted. So I pull up and all see is a gaggle of teenagers watching the house so my radar goes off that somebody must be in there doing something stupid. I go in the backdoor make my way upstairs and wait for the fool to show up. Imagine my surprise when the fool is my own son; your friends by the way who vanished at the first sign of my shadow; way to pick them son.”

“So you knew it was me?” Dean asked.

“No not until I grabbed you. I just planned to scare the kid so they would spread the word and no more morons would trespass,” John paced back and forth while Dean leaned against the Impala for support. “You are in so much trouble I don’t even know where to start. You leave your brother alone, you walk into a house that very well might be haunted, and you’re out past curfew and all for a dare. Boy I ought to kick your ass from here to oblivion.”

John continued to rant while Dean’s mind began to wander, thinking of his buddies who ditched him, thinking of Sam waiting at home. He finally snapped back to reality when John popped him in the mouth. “You listening?”

“Yes sir,” Dean said straightening up.

“Then what did I just say?”

“Um, um.”

“That’s what I thought, son you just hit four.”

Dean just stood there in abject horror. Four was a first for him never attained by a Winchester before now; yep Dean was a regular trailblazer. There was going to be no deliverance from this and he feared recovery would be a long process. The air had been combustible and Dean had just lit the match. John just blew the air out of his mouth slowly causing his cheeks to puff out. Dean looked around at the dark street and was unsure of what unabashed hostility would head his way. He wasn’t too keen on going home as Sam would no doubt at the very least hear the dreaded punishment but Dean also wasn’t too eager about staying in this location on the street in full view of numerous windows.

John looked around at the darkened portals of the nearby homes and the ire that he had managed to push down resurfaced with a vengeance. His son, his son who knew better had put himself at possible risk for a dare; a stupid kids game. Sam was alone and apparently his standing orders of watch out for your brother along with don’t seek out a hunt on your own had been totally disregarded. John had intended to drive to the privacy the apartment offered, but he found his rage in need of immediate release. Maybe being in an open albeit abandoned public space might just allow John to keep some kind of control.

Before Dean could register his fate he was being dragged to the hood of the Impala and found himself in an odd intimacy with the car he loved so much his cheek feeling the coolness of her exterior. The surroundings seemed to have been placed on mute as Dean heard that ever familiar sound of his father’s belt being freed from its confines. He silently cursed as he had nobody to blame for this but himself. He knew this would be an award winner of an experience he could hang on the wall like a prized kill. Before he could even steel himself for what was to come the barrage had begun.

The first several blows took his breath away but he maintained a quiet resolve but as John was reminded of his anger it was quickly transferred to the jean clad target.

There was no way the kid was going to get what he deserved for so casually betraying the rules. He had placed stupidity in the highest regards while allowing common sense, safety and the wellbeing of himself and his brother fall to the wayside. It was damn near unforgivable.

Dean could no longer swallow his pain and began to cry out. He had brought his hands up over his ears as his forehead was now touching the hood. His face wet with the fall out of his punishment he tried to direct his auditory reaction to the vehicle that supported him his mouth screaming at the metal beneath him. He had passed the apology stage and was now just sobbing, he had been right about one thing this was turning out to be the mother of all lashings. But who was he kidding, now that he had time to think about it he deserved every lick. He had placed trivial fun on a higher plane than safety and there was no excuse for that. He was so lost in thought he hadn’t even realized it was over. John grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled him off the car.

“Get in,” he directed as he relocated his belt to its rightful place.

Dean did as he was told feeling the fullness of his punishment as he slowly sank into the seat. John remained quiet the entire ride back even with Dean’s gasps at every bump and the continuous job of wiping his tears away.

They finally arrived back at the apartment they were staying at and as Dean tried to swing his legs out John met him offering a hand. He pulled his son up and close to him giving him a bear hug and holding him tightly. Dean felt a shudder as his father hugged him even tighter. All the man could see is what could have happen, the feared disaster that loomed around every corner just waiting for one of his sons to show up and claim it.

Dean winced his rear screaming at the sentence it was handed. He knew why his dad was so upset and found it understandable but at that moment he wasn’t wildly fond of him and just wanted to get away. But then with the second shudder he realized his dad was holding back his own tears.

“I’m sorry Dad,” Dean said.

John thrust the boy out in front of him. “If you ever, and I mean ever do any such thing again, you can consider what just happened a picnic. You ever take your life that lightly again and I don’t care how old you are I will repeat what happened tonight and some. Am I clear?”

Dean was exhausted mentally and physically and couldn’t grab a thought from his spinning brain.

“Do you understand me boy?” John asked with command.

Finally the cloud cleared and Dean could spit out the words demanded to hear. “Yes sir.”

“Now get your ass up to bed.”

“Yes sir,” Dean repeated and began his slow shuffle off to the room he shared with Sam.

Will go back to the think tank and see what I can rustle up...but it may take a few days, weeks, months.... <_<

aislinn - May 8, 2011 02:50 AM (GMT)
Damn, for someone so smart and someone who knows his dad so well, Dean sure did step in it. Thank you for posting this update and will patiently wait for whatever you come up with next.




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