Prompt # 5: jealousy, tattoo, money
Summary: John Winchester’s motto has always been ‘Do as I say, Not as I do.’
Characters: Dean(17), Sammy(13), John, Pastor Jim, Bobby
Notes: Needles scare me. A lot. I just thought I’d say that because I in no way condone what Dean did. Even though it is pretty sexy sometimes. Though, that’s up to personal opinion. Kind of like when they did it in canon.
Dean was very sneaky when he wanted to be.
Winchesters are sneaky in nature, but they’re pretty good at picking up when another is up to something. However, they were staying at Jim Murphy’s for a while and he’s not as apt to pick up on such things.
Sammy would have picked up on it, might have noticed some strangeness from his brother if he’d been asked, but he hasn’t been paying that much attention. Not when Jim has let him play soccer and Dean’s in high school actually playing football.
For his part, John knows that this time, things can’t be blamed on his supposed lack in the parental department. For the past months, he’s been trying very hard to get to Jim’s at least on the weekends to make sure that everything’s alright and everyone’s still alive, all fingers and toes accounted for and what have you. He’s been taking up a handful of hunts, things get busier around the springtime, and the whole nature returning to life seems to give spirits an extra boost or something.
Bobby’s with him. The Impala had a bad go about a week back and she’s taking a much needed break. Bobby doesn’t mind so much having to drive back and forth, he likes the younger Winchesters even if their daddy sometimes drives him bat crazy. He’s spent the most time out of anyone with the Winchesters, so he’s got a few methods and tell tale signs that he knows to keep his eye out for. He knows when one of them boys is hiding something.
But he wasn’t around either.
Jim was as surprised as both men were when they saw it.
John and Bobby had gotten in early, cruising in just as the dawn seeped through the clergy man’s windows. They’d entered quietly enough, even Gunther, Bobby’s Chocolate Labrador hunting dog. Bobby had feed it and left him downstairs as he headed off to sleep. Winchester of course went to look in on his offspring.
Jim heard them, softly walking to their intended rooms and went about properly waking himself up before he had to go and make an extra large helping of breakfast. He was just slipping his bare feet into slippers when he all but had a heart attack at John’s fury roar coming from the boy’s room.
“What the hell!”
Jim and Bobby are at the door and in the room in time to see John pull a now awake Dean out of bed.
Sam’s sitting up on his bed, wide awake and clearly more frightened by the abrupt awakening than whatever the hell
could be going on.
Dean seemed to be the only one that had a clue as to what was happening.
“Dean Michael Winchester you better explain yourself this second!”
Dean actually groaned and tried to pull his arm away from his father. It’s a stupid move because anyone who has ever spent more than a few hours with the family knows that for John to have tossed out the full name, the kid’s in deep and there’s no way of saving him now.
“Dad, it’s no big deal. Didn’t have to wake up the whole house,” the teenager mumbled and sometimes Jim and Bobby have to wonder how the kid has made it to live so long because neither of them would tempt Winchester when he’s radiating that much anger.
“No big deal?!”
“John?” Jim heard Bobby say cagily. He wondered why the man would interfere, but he’s got a pretty good idea when he looked over to the youngest Winchester and saw look of sleepy worry and fear on his face.
John looked over to Bobby and frowned at him, but when Singer motioned towards Sammy, he nodded understandingly.
“Downstairs. Now,” he told his eldest, shoving him none too gently towards the door before releasing his arm.
Dean just sighed, turned towards the door and dragged himself away.
“What happened?”Jim asked, walking over to Sam to make sure the kid was breathing alright and all.
“Samuel, do you know about what your brother did?” John asked, giving his son a measured look.
“He was just sleeping, Dad. I dunno what he was doing,” Sam replied.
“The tattoo, son. Did you know about that?”
Jim, Bobby, and even Sam yelp out and it’s clearly the first any of them hear about this.
“No sir, I didn’t. I mean, he didn’t. I mean, know tell me,” Sam’s stammering and his eyes are wider than Jim or Bobby’s and he can’t lie that good.
John just nods. He placed his hand on Sammy’s head for a moment before he started walking out of the room with Bobby a step behind him.
“The hell that boy do?” Bobby asked, the both of them taking two steps all the way down.
Dean sitting on the kitchen floor, Gunether’s head resting in his lap and they both looked relaxed. Kodak moment or what have you. Kid didn’t look the least bit worried.
Maybe he was possessed or something.
It’s not likely, seeing as it is holy land and all that they’re on, but it wouldn’t be the first time. First time at Jim’s sure, but – Well, the kid’s apparently only possessed with teenage rebellion, adolescent, and good old Winchester stubborn hold.
Sure recipe to a trip over his daddy’s lap. Hell, Jim might even take a few to him because this clearly happened under his watch.
“Get your ass over here!” John growled as soon as he entered the room.
Dean, for his part, doesn’t argue and sets about getting to his feet.
“Here,” John growled, pointing right in front of him and Dean complied, though a little slowly.
“Get that damn shirt off.”
Dean looked over at Bobby and then back to his dad before he started to pull the shirt up and off. He had been hopeful to not having to reveal this new aspect of his appearance yet, take his time about it, but no such luck.
Bobby finally saw what John was snarling about as the shirt slipped off Dean’s head. On the boy’s left arm was the word Vixit , Latin for “he has lived”.
Which was good, because clearly he was going to be dead very soon.
John grabbed Dean’s elbow and tugged his son in close.
“Vixit,” Bobby snorted, shaking his head at the teen.
“What the hell were you thinking? You’re not allowed to ink yourself, you know better!”
“I didn’t ink myself! I got a guy to do it.”
Dean grimaced as John tightened his hold on the arm.
“Don’t you dare try and talk yourself out of this boy! This is not a joke, Dean!”
Jim came down the stairs and headed straight for the yelling. He’d spoken a few words with Sam and had concluded that neither he nor the boy had noticed any ink marks on Dean. He’d gotten the boy to stay in the room and had headed down in hopes of…not getting blood all over his kitchen floor and appliances.
“I wasn’t joking. I didn’t do this.”
John twisted Dean around and swatted at his pajama clad bottom. He was too tired from the hunt and the long drive to hear any kind of backtalk from anyone.
The last thing that he had ever expected when he had walked in to check on his sons was to find Dean’s shirt scrunched up enough from the movements of sleep to display his son’s new body art.
“Don’t get smart with me, boy. I’m not playing any games right now,” John gritted out as he placed a half dozen hard smacks to the teen’s backside.
Dean groaned and looked away from the other two men in the room.
“What the hell possessed you to think that you could get a tattoo?” John asked as he pulled him back a step to look at the teen’s face again.
“It’s not that big of a deal, Dad!”
“No? Getting a haircut isn’t a big deal, this is a big deal! Do you know how dangerous getting these things are! Hell, you could get this infected or scarred! Damnit Dean! You know damn well you’re not allowed to so much as get out of bed in the middle of the night without telling me and you think you could just go off and get one of these?”
“It’s my bod-
“Oh hell NO! You listen to me, and you listen well! Until you are eighteen years of age, it’s my body. You’re not in charge of a damn thing concerning yourself or anyone without my go ahead. And furthermore, even if you were over eighteen, you are under my care and as such do as I say.”
Dean glared at his dad, not liking what he was hearing. He didn’t see what his father was so mad about; he was the one that had had to sit through all that pain and nonsense. And it wasn’t like he’d put something obscene or ridiculously huge or something.
“You can’t just say that!”
“Fuck yes I can! Have you lost your mind?”
“You’re such a hypocrite! You have three and they’re each bigger than this!”
“I got mine when I was well over eighteen, young man, so don’t even try me!”
“You were drunk for two of them! And you weren’t even old enough to get drunk for the first one.”
“What I did or did not do has not a damn thing to do with what you aren’t allowed to do!”
“That’s not fair,” Dean growled back, trying a mighty tug to get his arm back, but it probably just hurt him some and made his dad madder.
“What’s not fair is that I expect you and your brother to behave, especially when I have to leave you with someone. Now I come back and find that not only have you gone behind my back but you went behind Jim and your brother’s too. I know for a fact that you need adult consent to get one of those, so I want to know how the hell you got it. And I’ll warn you now, I’m not in the mood to play twenty questions or anything like that.”
“’M not a little kid, Dad! You’re the only one that still thinks that! Just because you treat me like I’m ten years old doesn’t mean I am!”
Bobby had to scoff. That boy was more like an energetic toddler in his honest opinion and he was willing to bet that John and Jim thought along the same lines.
Dean was pretty responsible when it came to Sammy, hunting, and taking care of the weapons and car. It was true that these things took up most of the kid’s time, but when it didn’t, Dean was more than able to get his ass into more than his share of trouble.
John responded much like Jim expected the Marine to respond. He had said he wasn’t going to take the boy’s bull and he showed that he meant it. He barely registered what the man growled, sounded like ‘that’s it’ but he wasn’t precisely sure. Within seconds though, John was leaning against the kitchen counter with Dean held tight against him and chucking the sleep pants down a ways to expose the skin and immediately started smacking him.
Jim sighed, shaking his head at Dean. Why the teen had sought out such an extremity was beyond him and frankly he didn’t want to be a part of the process at the moment. Not when he had so many questions running through his mind, all concerning how he could have missed such a thing.
“You watch your mouth, son! I told you I wasn’t playing games! Now you answer me right now or am I going to have to take the belt to you?”
Dean squirmed, groaning as his father brought swat after swat down on his butt cheeks. This had been one of the reasons why he had avoided getting the damn thing noticed all week long! And to get smacked in front of Bobby and Jim like that, well it wasn’t helping his ‘grown-up’ image much either.
“Dean Winchester, answer me!”
“Okay, okay! Dad! Stop!”
But John just brought his hand down a few more time, in rapid succession so that the sting alerted his boy that things weren’t going to go as he wanted them.
“I said, talk.”
“Ouch! Okay, OKAY! Fake ID! Oww! I had a fake ID!”
John stilled his hand. Dean didn’t have to look back to know that his father’s face was filled with fury.
John had gotten him a fake identification card a few months back. He had made it damn clear, however, that while it seemed like a freedom card, it was only – and he meant only – supposed to be used in cases of emergencies.
Getting tattooed definitely didn’t classify as such.
Dean bit his lip, not wanting to repeat himself. He had a pretty decent view of the sink from his position, but he could also see from the corner of his eyes that while Jim had already slipped out, Bobby was still standing at the doorway and frowning intently in his direction.
“Bobby, make yourself useful and grab my duffle for me. Should still be by the door.”
Dean tensed. John released him, but he knew that the freedom would be short lived as Bobby slipped away and went to retrieve his father’s bag. While the thing held mainly the hunter’s clothing, it also held a very personal effects and weapons and one sturdy wooden paddle that had been working wonders on Dean and Sammy’s bottom for the past five years.
He hated that thing with a passion.
“Dad, please. Can’t we talk bout this?” Dean asked, the words curling in his tongue and seemingly stuck in his tightening throat as he watched his dad walk over to a three step ladder that was mostly used in the pantry but made a pretty decent and stable chair when needed.
Bobby returned as Dean replaced his pants up and tried to not look as if he was going to make a break for it.
“Thanks Bobby,” John said finally. He took the bag from Bobby’s hands and quickly got the paddle out and dumped the bag at his feet.
“Dean,” he said, motioning to the spot in front of him.
Dean looked at him through tear filled eyes. He wasn’t about to start crying but the spanks that he had already received had really made their displeasure show.
“Move it, boy,” Bobby growled at him as he walked past him slowly.
Dean looked at Bobby and then back to his father. He wouldn’t make it to the doorway, let alone out, with those two looming near.
“Dad,” he tried again, hoping to maybe reason his way out of the paddle, even if he would still get a hand spanking. The latter was already freaking painful, it didn’t need the backup.
John was about to tell him to move his ass and quick, but Bobby was faster. He grabbed at Dean’s arm and tugged him hard away from the counter and swatted his already hurt bottom a few times before releasing him.
“You clear lost your mind!”
“Move it Dean.”
As soon as Dean got near enough to John, he was upended again and the pajama bottoms were slipped right off him.
“You’ve got some nerve, son. Doing things, dangerous things, behind my back! Well, I’ll tell you right now, that tattoo of yours is coming off immediately! And let me just let you know, it’s going to hurt a hell of a lot more to get off then it was when you got the thing. And it won’t all be from the removal either!”
The paddle cracked down. Each stroke meeting its mark and making its mark. Red oval shaped spanks were striking over red hand markings and combining all of it together to make one intensely stinging bottom.
Bobby had long slipped away and he sat with Jim in the living room. He kept a tight hold of Gunther, who was going crazy at the sounds of wood striking flesh and Dean’s yelping filled the air.
A few moments into in, John started asking Dean questions and was finally getting the answers without the sass. Sammy slipped down the stairs, tears streaming down his cheeks. He settled in on the couch, right beside Jim and curled up tight into himself. Jim draped a strong over his shoulders as they listened to Dean state how he had nabbed some money from some people in school.
Apparently, an eighteen year old senior on Dean’s team had gotten himself a tattoo recently and a few of the other guys, Dean included, had been more than a little overwhelmed with jealousy. They had come up with the plan of leaving school early on Monday and going over to a tattoo parlor. At least it was run by one of the guy’s uncles, so it was partially checked out.
When the spanking finally finished, Bobby went ahead and turned the TV on. John would comfort the kid, he’d get that talking part in, and then he led Dean over to them. He apologized to Jim for being sneaky and to Sammy and Bobby for causing such a ruckus.
John went ahead and grabbed the phone book as Jim headed into the kitchen and got that breakfast started after giving Dean a hug of forgiveness and a swat of warning. He started looking for a doctor that could get Dean’s ‘expressive artwork’ removed as Bobby lectured his eldest some more before heading up for a few hours of sleep. Sam and Dean remained watching the TV set as he started some calls and finally made and appointment. He headed off to bed after looking in on them sitting with Jim and eating breakfast and tried really hard to ignore when his thirteen year old marveled over the markings and declared them ‘pretty neat’.