Visiting the Grandparents Part 2
Title: Visiting the Grandparents (part 2)
Author: brassband777
Characters: Mary, Samuel Campbell, Deanna Campbell, Dean (11), Sam (7)
Scenario: wee!chester spanking, discipline fic (parental spanking)
Implement: hand, hairbrush.
Summary: When visiting his grandparents, Samuel shows Dean a firearm with nearly disastrous results.
Author's Notes: this fic was suggested by the awesome Capricorn86, who challenged me to write an AU where Mary was still alive. In this AU, Mary was brought up as a hunter, but her family never had any dealings with the YED. She has kept the truth of the existence of the supernatural from both her husband and her children. Prompt: ‘Would you consider doing a fic where Mary takes Sam and Dean for a visit to her parents? Could include both Samuel and Deanna, or just one of them’.
Beta’d by: the wonderful Capricorn86 - thanks for your input and support!
Samuel watched Dean fondly as the boy lay sprawled on his stomach munching potato chips, his eyes glued to the western on the TV.
On the one hand he had to admit that seeing his grandchildren having a ‘normal’ childhood was rewarding. He had never before considered just how stressful and pressurised a ‘hunting’ upbringing was, as it was all he himself had ever known, until he considered Mary’s upbringing alongside Dean and Sam’s. He could now see the merit of keeping them ignorant in their early years, but that didn’t change the fact that he sincerely believed that their destiny in life was to become hunters.
Samuel looked at Dean appraisingly. The boy’s love of sports ensured that he was fit and had good muscle tone for his age. He had also always been naturally agile, with excellent co-ordination. Samuel was certain that he would make an outstanding hunter one day.
“Whoa. It’d be so cool to shoot like that,” enthused Dean, as the closing credits rolled, making his hand into a gun shape and firing at an imaginary target, “POW! POW! Take that!”
As, Samuel watched his grandson shooting with his pretend gun, an idea began to take root. Mary resisted him, but she would do anything to make her children happy. She constantly encouraged them to try new things and take on new hobbies, but she wasn’t a pushy parent either and if they tried something and didn’t like it, she never tried to force them to continue it, even if they showed aptitude at it. All that his daughter wanted was for her boys to be healthy and happy…….and Samuel was convinced that could work in his favour! He couldn’t actively train the boy, as he knew Mary would not allow it, but what if the boy just happened to take up a new hobby that also happened to be a required skill in a hunter?
“Your mother could teach you,” said Samuel casually.
“What?” asked Dean, sitting up to look at his grandfather, confused as to what the man was referring to.
“To shoot. She could teach you archery too.”
“Yeah, right,” snorted Dean, convinced his grandfather was having him on.
“I’m serious, Dean. It was….errr…a hobby of hers when she was growing up.”
“Very funny, Gramps.” There was no way his Mom could shoot either bullets or arrows!
“I’ll prove it to you. Follow me.”
Curious, Dean got up and followed his grandfather.
Samuel paused outside of his study. “Remember you are not to touch anything in here.”
Dean nodded solemnly. He didn’t need telling twice! Both he and Sammy knew the study was off-limits. The previous summer they had both found out the extremely painful consequences of breaking that particular rule.
The study was where Samuel kept most of his hunting equipment. The majority of his arsenal was kept in the large metal chest that took up one corner of the room. This was sealed with a combination lock. However, presently a number of weapons were also stored in the large filing cabinet next to the extensive bookshelf, as well as in the desk drawers. These weapons usually resided at various points throughout the house, so that one would always be to hand if trouble ever arose, but Mary was adamant that they were removed whenever the boys came to visit.
One particular weapon however, which resided at the back of the middle desk drawer, Samuel kept purely for its sentimental value - it was the first firearm that Mary had ever owned.
Samuel reached down into the drawer and carefully lifted out a small rectangular box. He lifted the lid and held it out for Dean to see. Inside, nestled amidst silky blue fabric was a silver pistol with an intricately carved ivory handle.
“Can I hold it?” asked Dean, his mesmerised gaze fixed on the contents in the plain, unadorned wooden box.
“No, it’s not a toy, Dean.” Samuel’s tone was sharp. “You should only ever handle a weapon when you’re trained to do so.”
Dean rolled his eyes. He wasn’t a baby, he wasn’t stupid.
Samuel carefully lifted the gun out of the box and held it closer to his grandson. “Can you read the inscription?”
Dean leaned forward, itching to reach out and touch the pistol. What would it feel like in his hand? Was it heavy? How did you aim?
Engraved in the ivory on the handle were the words: For Our Beloved Daughter Mary Joanne Campbell On Her Tenth Birthday. All Our Love, Mom And Dad.
Dean gasped in surprise and searched his grandfather’s face. “So Mom could really shoot, huh?”
Samuel nodded.
“Awesome!” enthused Dean. “Was she any good?”
Samuel grinned with pride. “Oh, yeah, your Mom’s an excellent shot.”
“Then why hasn’t she told us about it?” puzzled Dean.
“Oh, your Mom lost interest in it.”
“Probably because she’s a girl,” mused the eleven-year-old.
Samuel smiled at the child’s stereotypical sexist view. “Maybe. Do you think shooting is something you’d like to learn, Dean?”
“Heck, yeah!” The boy’s green eyes were shining with excitement.
“Maybe you should ask your Mom?” suggested Samuel casually, “But you’d probably better not tell her I showed you this, as you really shouldn’t come into contact with weapons until you’re trained how to handle them safely. Our little secret, hey?”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, Gramps.”
Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural
Dean approached his mother in the kitchen after supper as she put the clean dishes away in the cupboard. The boy didn’t for one second consider the fact that his request would be refused - she had learned to shoot, so there could be no problem with him learning too, right?
“Hi, Mom. You know you asked me if there was anything I wanted to do when Sammy decided he wanted to learn to play the piano? Well I’ve found a hobby.”
Mary turned to her eldest with a warm smile. “What’s that, Honey?”
“I wanna learn how to handle guns and shoot.”
Mary stiffened. Where had this come from? Sure, Dean was a typical little boy who loved playing with toy guns, but he had never shown any interest in real weapons. She closed her eyes for a moment as unbidden images of her best friend, Kate, covered in blood arose in her mind. Yeah, she was very proficient at handling a wide range of firearms, but she hated them all!
“Mom?” questioned Dean, tugging on Mary’s elbow to get her attention. “Did you hear what I said?”
Mary mentally shook herself. “Yes, I heard you, Baby. I’m truly sorry, but that’s not an option. Guns are dangerous.”
“But….”
“No, Dean. It’s final. I really am sorry, but I will not allow you to take up any sport involving weapons of any kind.”
“That’s not fair!” argued the eleven-year-old, “You let Sammy do what he wants, you let him have those stupid piano lessons!”
“And I’ll let you do things you want too, just not anything involving violence or weapons.” Mary was trying to be patient. She understood that her eldest really wanted this and that she was disappointing him by denying it to him.
“But this is what I wanna do,” replied Dean, the petulance in his tone reminding Mary of Sammy, “Gramps took you shooting, so how can it be dangerous?”
Mary froze, her green eyes narrowing, everything clicking into place. “Your Grandpa talked to you about shooting? What did he say?”
“That you learned how when you were a kid and not just that, you learned archery too. So if you did, why can’t I?” Dean’s tone was pleading.
“Because I said so!” As the words passed her lips, Mary cursed herself inwardly - she had sworn growing up when her parents had said that exact same thing to her that she would never say it to her own children, but that she would always give them reasons. But what was she supposed to say: because I was being trained to slay the supernatural?
“You’re a hypocrite!” accused Dean, the disappointment and injustice he felt revealing itself as anger.
As much as she felt for her child, Mary was not prepared to have him speak to her like that. Her response was immediate as she pulled the eleven-year-old to her side and delivered four crisp swats to the seat of his jeans.
“Now I know you’re disappointed, Dean, but you never speak to me like that. Are we clear?” she asked sternly, placing her hands on his shoulders, “You’re too young to understand fully how dangerous weapons can be. And just because I learned how to use them doesn’t mean it’s right for children to do so. I won’t change my mind, so there’s no point asking me again.”
“Sorry,” mumbled Dean staring at his feet, resisting the urge to reach back and rub at the sting. He was angry - his Mom was treating him like he was a little kid like Sammy….of course he knew weapons could be dangerous, which was why he wanted to be taught how to use them! Dean knew better than to press though, he knew his mother had made up her mind. It just wasn’t fair!
Mary sighed and pushed her hair back behind her ear as she watched Dean dejectedly leave the kitchen, before turning on her heel and heading straight towards her father’s study.
“I’ve just had to disappoint my little boy, because he asked for something that would never ever have entered his head if you hadn’t put the idea there!”
Samuel looked up from the ancient text he was studying as his daughter stormed into the room.
“I’m taking it you told him ‘no’ then?” he sighed.
Mary shook her head in disbelief. “I cannot believe you, Dad. You bet I told him no!” She paused, her blazing green eyes spitting fire. “I swear if you interfere with their upbringing again, you will not see them ever again!”
Without waiting for a response, Mary turned and left the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural
Dean peeked into the living room. Gramps had left for work very early that morning and Mom and Grandma were both sitting on the sofa reading, while Sam was sprawled on the floor. His kid brother had found re-runs of the Thundercats on some obscure channel and was totally addicted to it. The little boy was now waiting impatiently for the program to start. Usually, Dean would watch the cartoon too, but this morning he was going to forgo that pleasure for an even greater one. He knew that he could count on being undisturbed for the next half an hour at least.
He tiptoed down the hall to his grandfather’s study and quietly let himself into the room. Dean did feel the uncomfortable curl of guilt in the pit of his stomach at breaking the long-standing rule of never being allowed in the study without permission, but pushed it aside. No one would ever know.
He pulled open the middle drawer in the desk and hesitated for only a moment before carefully lifting out the wooden box. The boy tucked it under his arm and quickly, but quietly made his way back to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Dean set the box down on his bed and cautiously lifted the lid. He only wanted to look at it and hold it, that was all.
He tentatively reached out a finger and ran it along the cold metal, before carefully lifting the pistol out of the box. For a moment Dean just held it in both hands, staring at it in awe. It was much heavier than he had expected. Then he took hold of the handle, originally intending to hold it in just one hand, but the weight caused it to tip forward, so he grasped it in both hands instead. The boy stared down the long, silver barrel. There was a little notch at the end, which Dean assumed was there to help you aim.
Downstairs, Sam let out a disgusted huff. Thundercats had just cut off and now a message was flashing onscreen saying that due to technical difficulties, the channel would not be broadcasting for the rest of the day. The small boy picked himself up of the floor. He’d go and play with Dean instead…..