WBY - Push
Title: WBY Push
Rating: PG 13 - Gen
Characters: Dean Winchester and Jamie (OC) Really AU - for those following Jamie!verse
Summary: Jamie and his dad are on a hunt for an old friend. Jamie has a problem with it.
XXX
He pulled the coat tighter around his chest and gave a sharp intake of breath as the cold burned his lungs and then exhaled blowing on his numb hands for good measure. Jamie was a Texas boy, born and bred. For the life of him he could not figure out why Dad chose to hunt a possible Black Heeled Jack in the frigid swamps of Maryland in February. February. Who the fuck does that? The damn thing would still be around in the spring and Jamie wouldn't have to back his old man up standing ankle deep in ice and snow in reeking brackish water.
But Dad had a bug up his butt, and even though the Jack had not been recently rampaging through the swamps Dad had decided that it needed to be killed now. Jamie couldn't blame the Jack for not showing itself. He even had some serious doubts there was a Jack because even stupid supernatural shit would prefer to be anywhere but this freezing hell hole. Still Dad was determined to check it out. Something about an old friend needing help and that had been enough.
Dad had pulled him out of school -Uncle Sam had protested that one - but both Gramps and Uncle Sam were down with some nasty flu-like bug and whoever this old friend of Dad's was, Dad must have thought a lot of him. Or owed him big time.
Jamie splashed through thin ice, wincing at the sharp crack of the ice when it could no longer hold his weight.
"Jamie," It was his father, a low whispered rebuke. "Could you keep it down back there?"
"Sorry, didn't bring my ice skates." Jamie lifted his booted foot and gave it a good shake, splashing ice and water off like a wet dog and then allowed it to plop into the muddied stagnant icy water.
"Watch the attitude, son." Dad turned around shooting him a quick glance that spoke volumes. The words were mild but the tone was clear.
"Yes, sir." That's what Dad wanted to hear but not want Jamie wanted to say.
This was just a scouting mission, following up on some vague report of lights in the swamp or some kind of shit. Maybe some missing kids. Kids went missing all the time. Right now, if Jamie had his druthers, he'd go missing. Somewhere warm maybe. Florida would be nice. They should have done more research. Research in a nice warm hotel room. Not in the middle of this frigid fucking swamp. Jamie glanced up at the back of his father's head. Despite the water and ice, Dad could move almost silently, it was pretty impressive really. Jamie looked off to the left, watching the early morning ice and frost, glistening in the very first light of day. It was beautiful, if freezing - but not pretty enough as far as Jamie was concerned.
Jamie took another step and wound up slamming into the back of his father.
"Jesus, Jamie. Get your head in the game," Dad sounded pissed.
Jamie blew a deep breath and rolled his eyes.
"Don't you roll your eyes at me, kid." Gah, sometimes his dad sounded so much like Gramps that Jamie had to shake his head.
"C'mon, Dad. You're facing the other direction, how in the hell would you know I was rolling my eyes."
Dad didn't bother to even turn to look at Jamie, didn't take his eye off of whatever crappy trail he was following. "'Cause I'm the dad." And as if that wasn't enough he continued on, "Watch your mouth too."
Jamie humpfed. "Hell? Hell isn't a bad word. Not much anyway. Jeesh." He splashed through the muck.
Dad turned then and drilled him a sharp look. One that Jamie knew well and should've taken to heart but he was cold damn it. And pissed too. He might be just a kid, but he had the right to protest this freezing cold bullshit. No one knew if this damn Jack was really around. This scouting mission was crap. He wanted nothing more than a cup of Joe and a warm blanket. Instead it was him and Dean Winchester, slopping through the muck in a swamp.
"C'mon, Dad. It's cold and there ain't nothing in this swamp anyway."
"Well, there may be, there may not be, but we're checkin' it out just the same. Are we clear?"
"Crystal. Swarovski in fact."
Dad physically stopped and turned again to Jamie. "Really, Jamie, I've had enough. Take this as a threat or a promise. I don't want to hear anymore of this bullshit. Got it?"
This time Jamie answered promptly. "Yes, sir."
He didn't want to be here, true. But Jamie knew his Dad, inside and out and right now, for whatever the reason, Dean Winchester was ready to rip him a new one and that was not something Jamie intended on going through today. So he pulled the jacket tighter and cursed quietly to himself when the first snowflakes hit his head.
Three hours later Dad deemed the swamp Jack free. And fuckin' halleluiah on that one. Jamie wanted to say I told you so but his father has slipped out of his earlier morning funk and Jamie wanted it to stay that way. And truthfully, Jamie knew he had been acting like a bit of a brat so he decided to let it slide. They walked companionably to the truck and although still cold and miserable, Jamie decided he would make the best of it.
"So, Dad, who is this friend who needed the help?"
Dad opened the truck's door and kicked his slush-covered boots against the front tire.
"Lisa Braeden."
And suddenly Jamie's mood was back in the gutter.
Lisa Braeden, the woman who broke his father's heart. Jamie turned the heat up to full blast in the truck.
"It's only gonna shoot out cold air till she gets warmed up, kiddo." Jamie knew that but didn't care.
"So, we'll get a jump on the heat when it starts. I'm fuckin' freezing."
Dad blew hard on his own hands. "Dude, knock off the f-bombs. Your gramps woulda knocked me into the backseat talkin' like that at your age."
"Yeah, well, I'm cold, and you're not Gramps."
"And what the hell is that supposed to mean? I'm not your grandfather so you can curse at me all you want?"
"Wasn't cursing at you, just cursing around you. S'not the same thing."
"Whatever, Jamie. Keep a civil tongue in your mouth. Especially when we get to Lisa's."
"Why do we need to go talk to her? Just call her or something and tell her she's gone off the deep end and there ain't a Black Heeled Jack anywhere around this marsh."
"Because she is an old friend and I want to reassure her that things are safe. Just behave okay? For crying out loud, act like you have some manners."
Jamie snuffled hard and didn't bother to reply.
Of course Jamie knew all about Lisa. Knew about Ben and how his father had loved them both. Ben was a lawyer in Washington DC now. He still kept in touch with his dad but out of mutual respect for Lisa, neither Ben nor his father really communicated with Lisa about their discussions. It was too painful for Lisa and Dad to talk, too painful for Ben and Dad not to talk. So they spoke now and again, but it was never like it had been before. Before Lisa dumped his dad. Dad had never once said a bad word about Lisa, in fact, barely spoke of her, but that didn't mean that she hadn't hurt him terribly. Jamie never thought he would ever meet her, never thought he would be able to see the flesh and blood woman who had been the love of his dad's life.
Jamie Winchester had a score to settle with Lisa Braeden.
The house was small but Jamie could tell right off that Lisa was one of those people who cared about her house. Even in the dead of winter, the garden was gorgeous. Where other people may just have dead plants, Lisa had a real winter garden, flowers and foliage planted in such a way that their death actually accentuated the beauty of her home. There were unusual shapes and stalks sparkling in the frost. Bits of evergreen. There were splashes of color that indicated some kind of berry. Pretty and red but no doubt poisonous, Jamie thought bitterly. But he said nothing, just jumped out of the truck, slamming the door with more force than was strictly necessary. He could see that the back of the house was up against the water, a smaller tributary that either led into or back from that marsh they had been in recently. If Jamie's map skills were good, and they were, from there it was probably not long to the Chesapeake Bay.
He trudged up the path behind his father, head lowered and scowling despite the fact that the late winter sun had just managed to get high enough in the sky so that the frigid morning air had warmed. Still despite the weak rays of sun, the clouds hovered heavy and thick, with the promise of more snow.
Jamie stood behind his father a half step and waited for him to knock on the door, instead, it was opened and he got his first glimpse of Lisa.
She was beautiful. Longish dark hair with silvery streaks that instead of making her look old made her look stunning. The silver framed her face, setting off high cheekbones and a lovely smile. She wore a pair of jeans with a cream colored sweater and even to Jamie's extremely prejudiced eyes, could see that she was long and lithe. It didn't surprise him. Yoga instructor or something - plus Dean Winchester had never needed to scrape the barrel when it came to pretty women. Still, he had been hoping she had gotten plump with age or better yet had turned into a frail, withered old bat. It would be so much easier to hate a hag. She smiled and gestured them into the house.
"Come in guys, it's freezing out there."
"Sure as shi-" Jamie never finished his sentence as his father's elbow hit him forcefully in the ribs. The quick whoosh of exhaled air that followed made sure there was no continuation of the sentence.
Lisa caught his father's hand warmly and even though Jamie could see the uncertainty in both of their eyes, she leaned into give him a lingering kiss on the cheek. And then his father pulled her in a bit tighter. Not quite a hug, but not the handshake he would offer to a male friend.
God, it was sickening.
"So this is Jamie?" Her voice was gentle and warm. "He looks so much like you."
"Yeah, he's a chip off the old block." Jamie knew he was too, except for dark russet hair he favored his father quite a bit.
"Let me get your coats." Lisa bustled off with their coats to another room as Jamie made to step into the living room.
"Dude…"Dad hissed. "Boots."
Jamie looked at his boots puddling water in the foyer and flapped his hands frustratingly by his side.
"What of it? It's not my fault my feet are wet. We've been sluggin' through the swamp for three hours."
"Take them off."
Dad was already unlacing his boots and carefully putting them by the front door.
Jamie huffed but followed suit. Damn this was gonna be a long day.
A moment later Lisa was back. "Do you boys wanna come into the kitchen? I have fresh coffee on and even made some hot coco for you, Jamie."
"Great. Hot coco. Does it have the mini marshmallows in it? " It seemed that sarcasm was lost on Lisa because she turned brightly to Jamie.
"Actually, it does." And then she laughed a bit as she showed them into the kitchen.
"Black, if I remember correctly." Lisa handed a steaming mug of coffee to his father and then turned to Jamie with another mug, chocolaty and yes with little marshmallows floating in it. All three sat at the cozy kitchen table.
"So, did you find anything?" Lisa's bright smile vanished and her brows furrowed in worry.
"No, not a thing. If it's a Jack, it's moved off to better hunting grounds."
"Or warmer weather," Jamie interjected his voice laced with unbridled anger.
"Sorry about the muck." Lisa spoke quietly. "The eastern shore of Maryland is not usually too bad but this winter has been harder than usual. Between this crazy weather and the missing kids…. I was worried."
His father reached out and gently held Lisa's hand. It was brief, just barely a touch but Lisa smiled again. "You were smart to call, if anything ever happened to you, well, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself."
Jamie almost choked on the hot chocolate. What the fuck? How was his father responsible for a woman he had not seen in years? Damn, he must have had it bad.
Time to nip this little reunion in the bud.
Jamie swallowed his last bit of hot chocolate, still too hot to be finished but he relished the heat as it slid down his throat. A little second-degree burn wasn't gonna deter him from getting the hell out of Dodge.
"Well, Dad, don't you think we should hit the road? No Jack. No problems eh? " Jamie stood brushed his hands down his jeans and threw a rakish grin in Lisa's direction. "Nice meeting you." It wasn't of course, but Dad had mentioned manners and maybe if he tried to be nice it would be easier to hit the road.
"You can't leave now, I have some soup on the stove for a late lunch and the weather looks like it has taken a turn for the worse." Jamie glanced out the window and sure enough the big wet flakes from this morning were light and fluffy now but coming down more forcefully, covering the ground in white.
"See what I mean about the weather?"
"It's okay. Four wheel drive. C'mon, Dad."
His father looked strangely at Jamie, obviously puzzled at his son's refusal of a home cooked meal.
"Jamie, take a seat."
Jamie continued to stand, arms crossed in a perfect imitation of his grandfather.
"Having a hard time hearing, son?" There was just an edge to the question, barely noticeable to anyone but Jamie.
"What about school?" Jamie didn't make a move toward the chair.
"Sit," Dad growled low, an obvious order and Jamie sat. When dad spoke like that, you just naturally did whatever he told you to do. But he huffed a breath so obviously laden with angst that his father drilled him a look.
Lisa stood graciously and made some remark about checking on the fire in the living room and left Jamie and his father glowering at each other.
"What the fuck is your problem?" Dad spoke low, far too low for Lisa to hear in the next room.
"I thought we weren't cussing. Offensive to the ladies and all of that."
"You are not cussing. I'm keeping it low out of respect for that girl. But you're not cussing 'cause you're the kid and I told you to keep your four-lettered mouth buttoned."
"Double standard, Dad. So wrong."
"Not only is it a double standard, it has always been a double standard. Remember I'm the grown up in the equation and as much as you seem to think I'm a pushover when compared to your grandfather, I think you better re-evaluate your thoughts on that buddy boy."
Jamie snorted, a decidedly disrespectful sound.
"Last chance, Jamie."
Lisa chose that moment to come in and it saved Jamie from a response from that one. At least she had done one thing right.
"So…who wants soup?"'
Dad nodded smiling broadly. "I'd love some."
"Jamie?" Lisa queried as she turned to the stove to ladle out a hearty smelling beef soup into a bowl. Jamie noted it was the kind of bowl with a handle. Stupid.
"No thank you," and then to Dad low. "I'm tired of this shit."
And why Jamie did it, he couldn't be sure. He was hurt and angry. His dad wasn't listening to him and couldn't he tell how uncomfortable Jamie was?
"James Michael Winchester," Dad's voice was sharp. "Didn't I tell you to watch your mouth?"
Lisa smiled, laugh lines wrinkling her eyes. "Dean, I raised a boy remember? "
"And I'm quite sure Ben didn't talk like that in front of you. "
Lisa smiled again…"No, not usually but boys will be boys and I understand completely."
"Well, not this boy." Dad turned and drove an icy stare at Jamie.
"Another word like that and I swear I'll wash your mouth out with soap."
Jamie blushed furiously. How dare dad call him on cussing and threaten him with mouth washing. His family wasn't exactly poster children for decorum and language. They were four men who lived routinely without the gentling presence of a woman. Still, Jamie knew when to cuss, when not to cuss. He didn't cuss at school and it was true, he knew better than to use four letter words in front of women. For all of his family's gruffness, Winchesters were gentlemen around women. He had been taught to hold open doors, pull a girl's chair out and even walk on the inside of the street. It was almost a natural extension of a protective gene that seemed to be mutated several times over into something so strong that Jamie not only couldn't fight it but also didn't know to fight it. As long as they weren't sucubi or banshees or witches, women were to be protected and honored. The only time that changed a bit occurred when he had hunted a few times with women. It turned out that women who hunted were just as able to protect him as the other way around. It was an unusual situation but Jamie was used to unusual. He wasn't however, used to being made to feel like a four year old by his dad who was threatening oral hygiene via Dial soap.
He looked at Lisa who had reached up to push a stray hair from his father's head. Given that his father's hair was pretty short, Jamie figured it for the annoying sweetheart gesture it just might be. He groaned inwardly. Maybe he knew exactly what he was doing when he decided to cuss in front of Lisa. A person had the right to express himself.
Dark and angry thoughts swirled through his head. Stupid bitch, he thought. But that thought did not leave his mouth. Jamie didn't believe his father would find a bar of soap to shove down his throat but he wouldn't put it past him either. Dean Winchester might be able to stop him from telling Lisa exactly what he thought about her, but he couldn't get him to stop thinking.
It was then he noticed Dad offering him a warning glance. How in the hell could the man tell what was going on in his head? It just wasn't normal.
"So, Jamie…you can take Ben's old room if you want. " Lisa said as she handed the soup to Dad.
"What about Dad?" Jamie's eyes glanced from Lisa to his Dad. "Where are you gonna sleep?
"I'm sure I can find a place for him. " Lisa murmured with just enough huskiness in her throat to make Jamie want to gag.
"I bet you can," Jamie snickered.
Dad stood, pushing his chair back so abruptly he almost spilled the soup in the process.
"Can you excuse us for a minute, Lis…I need to chat with Jamie here."
Jamie looked over at his dad suddenly very worried. Maybe it was his politeness, Dean Winchester was very seldom polite, maybe it was the low timber of his voice, so like Gramps. Jamie swallowed reflexively and wiped a suddenly sweaty hand down his jeans. But he stood and followed his father into the adjoining room, allowing the swinging door to softly shut behind him.
"Jamie," Dad started. "I have no idea what your problem is, but this is ending here and now. I have had enough of your disrespect toward a person I care about."
"Ah, c'mon, Dad. You haven't seen her in years and now all of a sudden you are all chummy, chummy and Christ now you even gonna spend the night with her. We don't need to stay the night here, Dad. Let's get a hotel."
His father took a deep breath but his voice didn't waver and he spoke with all the seriousness and conviction that Dean Winchester could.
"I get it. I do. You're pissed we're here. Pissed we have spent half the day on a wild goose chase. Pissed I'm staying with Lisa. But this is my choice, my call. Not yours. You're acting like a five year old and I'm close to treating you like one. You're a moment away from me finding a quiet room somewhere to wallop the hell out of your ass."
Jamie bristled at that one, "So you think that spanking me is gonna change how I feel? 'Cause it's not. It's not gonna change a damn thing." Jamie spoke quietly or at least he tried to. Talking with your father in the living room of his ex about getting your ass beat is not something a kid really wants to have overheard anywhere, let alone by the ex as she stood ladling soup in the kitchen. "She..." Jamie pointed emphatically at the kitchen door, "Is. A. Bitch."
Jamie was unprepared for the open handed slap. So loud and sharp that the sound of it echoed through the living room. It rocked his head hard to the left ending in a sting so biting it instantly brought tears to his eyes.
His father had never slapped him. Not once. Winchesters had been known to offer a cuff to the back of the head, a well-placed swat was certainly not unheard of and a full-fledged ass kicking had happened more times than Jamie cared to admit. But no one had ever slapped him. He wanted to reach up and touch the inflamed cheek but refused. Besides the tears might just be from anger because right now he was so angry with his dad that he could barely see. Instead he racked his shoulders back at an attention any Marine DI would be proud of and just stood stiffly in Lisa Braeden's living room.
"Are we done, sir?"
Jamie watched as his father raked a hand over his face and then took a deep breath. But Dad didn't apologize and Jamie wasn't going to either. It was an impasse of sorts and stubborn was hard wired in Winchesters.
"Yeah. We're done. But I'm not joking about this Jamie. You will not disrespect Lisa again. I wouldn't put up with it to any woman we know at home, a waitress in a diner, or any one who needed our help. I'm sure not gonna put up with it for her."
"Yes, sir."
Jamie executed a perfect about face and headed back into the kitchen. There was no doubt that Lisa had heard the slap and even if she hadn't - the Dean shaped handprint left no doubt as to what had just happened.
"If you could tell me where Ben's room is, I'll stow my gear there." Jamie kept his eyes up front and as much as he felt a blush try to crawl up his face he willed down the heat. He wasn't embarrassed, it wasn't his fault. Let the bitch know that Dean Winchester had just slapped his kid. Let her know that it hadn't phased Jamie one bit.
He hoped she choked on the fucking soup and right now, Dad could choke right along with her.
"Down the hall and to the right. There are some towels on the bed and if you want to take a shower, Ben has his own."
"Yes, ma'am." Jamie offered nothing more and then left, walked past his father and down the hall to Ben Braeden's room.
He had no intention of coming out for the rest of the night.
Jamie lay in bed. In Ben's bed and fluctuated between angry and depressed. Couldn't his dad see that Jamie was just looking out for him? Couldn't he see that Lisa was spinning a spell on him? She might not be a witch in the conventional sense but she was every bit as cunning.
He was mad about the slap too. It hadn't hurt all that much, not really but it was the principle of the thing. He was a big kid, fifteen, tough and hard as nails when he needed to be. He was fit and strong and had taken a lot more than a quick slap to his cheek. The fact that has father had slapped him though just made him seethe. He rolled over facing the wall as if ignoring the door would in someway show he was ignoring his father. He was hungry but would rather starve to death than walk back into that kitchen and although no longer physically cold he pulled the heavy comforter over his body and shivered. He fell asleep trying not to think of his father and Lisa Braeden in the bed down the hall.
Morning broke soft and bright. It was late, far later than Jamie was used to sleeping. He must have been tired, despite how much he tossed and turned through the night. Jamie stood, and padded into the bathroom. He was thankful that Ben's room had it's own. A long piss and a longer shower had him feeling a little better than yesterday but not by much. He pulled on a clean pair of jeans, a soft cotton tee and a gray flannel shirt and then walked over to the window. He could see the water from here, noticed a long dock that jutted out into the river. He decided that would be his destination as long as he could make it past his father and Lisa.
The kitchen was deserted but a plate of pancakes sat on the table and there was fresh coffee in the pot. Jamie poured a cup and then noticed a note in very feminine writing.
Have gone to a neighbor's to give her a hand this morning. Help yourself to whatever you want.
L.
He wanted the pancakes, wanted them like a heroin addict needed his fix but opted for the coffee instead, spooned in some sugar and cream, pulled on his now dry boots and headed out to the dock.
This place was beautiful, crystal ice, sparking in the morning sun with no trace of yesterday's low hanging clouds. The river sparkled too, calm and glass like. It wasn't as cold as yesterday, but Jamie wished he had grabbed his coat. He cradled the coffee between his hands and tentatively sipped.
It was good, strong enough to float a bullet but Jamie's cream and sugar had toned it down to something less biting.
Jamie leaned against the pilings and took a deeper swallow, shivering a bit in the early morning chill.
He heard his father before he saw him, but didn't bother to turn to his direction. His dad's footsteps were as familiar as his own.
"Thought you might need this." Dad handed him his jacket. Jamie nodded his thanks, slipped it on but continued to watch the river, not meeting his father's eyes.
"I think we need to talk, son." His father's voice was low and gentle. It should have felt reassuring, usually his dad knew exactly what to say and how to say it, but right now it just felt like he was being handled. Like he was a nervous colt that needed to be gentled before slipping the bridle on.
"There's nothing to talk about." Jamie thought he sounded resolute. Thought he was ending this conversation before it began.
He was wrong.
"Nope, there's tons to talk about. Why don't we start by you telling me what was your problem yesterday?"
Jamie offered a tight shake of his head with a slight curl of his lip. Dad called it the Jamie version of Uncle Sam's bitch face. Jamie wasn't sure about that, but it seemed appropriate to the occasion. He didn't want to talk about Lisa Braeden and her conniving, Dad-dumping ways. It was obviously something that dad didn't want to hear about, despite his soothing words about talking. All Dean Winchester wanted was to pretend like he had intervened in some way. Done his parental duties. Jamie was having none of it. At least not today. Not while they stood not 100 feet from Lisa Braeden's tiny, cozy little house nestled up against a river.
No fucking way.
"We can talk here, or up at the house, but it is gonna happen so start spilling."
Jamie knew his father really couldn't force him to talk, but he could certainly make his life miserable if he didn't say anything. Uncle Sam had said there was a time when he and his brother barely spoke at all. Not real talking, more like just saying what the other wanted to hear. Jamie couldn't reconcile that Dean Winchester with the one that stood beside him now. When his father decided that something needed to be discussed he would worry it like a terrier with a bone. It was strange. Dad didn't really want exposition or long convoluted answers though; he just wanted to know exactly what Jamie needed. Usually, he could figure it out without the dialogue but when he decided that he wanted Jamie to spill, he would wait until it happened. No matter how long it took. So really, Jamie didn't have a choice. His father was a stubborn man and despite how pretty this dock looked in the winter, Jamie did not want to be standing here in the spring.
It was frustrating.
"I just don't like her okay? I don't trust her. I'm not even sure there was even a Jack in these woods. We just spent half of yesterday tromping around in the freezing cold muck for nothing."
"We've done more for less, son." His dad spoke quietly and earnestly.
It was true, they had done more for less, but that was beside the point. They had done it for Lisa.
Jamie sniffed hard, kicked at the pylon at the end of the dock. "I know."
"Look Jamie, I know you think I'm being a hard ass about this, but I'm not. You are gonna just have to trust me. I'm putting my foot down and that's not something I do often so you just have to man up and deal with it. Just stop being so damn stubborn."
Jamie sputtered. "Me, stubborn? You're just as stubborn." Jamie pointed to the house; "I'm not going back up there so I'm glad you brought my coat down. Thanks for that at least."
"What? You're gonna stay out here on the dock until I'm ready to leave?"
"Yup. Damn straight."
"Jesus Jamie. Just grow up." Dad took a breath. Jamie saw him pulling himself back. It was almost as if he was physically reeling in his emotions. Jamie didn't find the fact that his father was being so bent out of shape regarding Lisa Braeden comforting. At all. "It's…it's complicated, " his father explained following Jamie's gaze out over the river. "'M just trying to help an old friend."
Jamie exploded then, and turned to his father, green eyes blazing.
"She's not a friend... just a fuck buddy!"
Dad grabbed Jamie's unzippered coat and pulled him harshly toward him, popping his leg up on what looked to be old crab pots and leaned the rest of his weight against the pylon. It wasn't optimal for Dad and Lord knew it wasn't optimal for Jamie but despite the awkward position and the lack of solid support it didn't stop his father from the flurry of spanks that landed hard across his denim-clad butt.
Maybe it was the already stinging cold, but his father's hard hand felt worse than Jamie remembered it. Jamie couldn't run or circle, a familiar tactic when getting an impromptu spanking, not only because Dad held him firmly but also they were on a dock without a lot of maneuvering room. Struggling too hard could put them both in the drink and from Jamie's vantage point; the water looked none to inviting.
So Jamie didn't struggle and his father didn't stop. As usual, Jamie felt the tears prick hotly in his eyes but he wasn't sure if it was the stinging warmth building in his freezing ass or if it was anger at the whole situation. Dad decided his cheeks had had enough and grabbed Jamie's belt, hoisting his butt up just a bit higher to nail the underside of his ass. That little move made Jamie's hands hit the slippery dock palms down, trying to stabilize himself. Now not only was his face cold, but his hands were freezing. And his ass was on fire. Not a pleasant situation.
Dad didn't let up, kept the rapid-fire swats until Jamie started to really cry. Jamie couldn't stop the sobs that came out unwanted from his chest but it was more frustration than obedience and more anger than remorse. And as if Dad knew the tears weren't truly reconciliatory, he kept the spanking up longer than usual. Finally, Jamie shuddered hard and really cried. It was then that Dad stopped and pulled him up awkwardly from off of his leg.
"Damn it, kid. I think you wore out my hand." Dad spoke gruffly, shaking his right hand a bit but he pulled Jamie in close and let him cry on his shoulder. Jamie did too. Getting his ass handed to him by his dad always hurt physically, but more than that, more than an ass whooping from Uncle Sam, or Gramps, it hurt his heart. He loved his father like a crushing pain sometimes. He wanted him to be proud of him, wanted him to understand why he felt like he did. And despite his father's warm arms around him, it didn't feel like he understood. Just like from Dad's reaction with the spanking, it couldn't possibly feel right for him either. Jamie snorted a bit. How in the hell could a spanking feel right? But the rightness or wrongness of it didn't matter at the moment; his father had gotten across in a quite intimate way that he was not to speak of Lisa like that.
Jamie decided that Dad could call him on that. Just on the Winchester women principle alone. Not the rest of it maybe, but on that one point he would concede. It didn't make him feel better though.
"C'mon, Jamie. I know you're hungry and cold so let's go on up and eat those pancakes. Lisa will be gone for a while, I think. Maybe we could talk a bit in the warmth of the kitchen instead of this freezing ass dock."
"My ass isn't freezing, Dad. I can't help it if yours is." Jamie looked at his hands red and still icy from trying to hold his upper body off the cold pier. "My hands are cold though."
Dad laughed then, a bit forced perhaps but not a lie as he glanced at his right hand. "And only one of my hands are warmed up. It looks like we both could use some heat that comes from a furnace, not from swatting."
Jamie nodded and drew a hand across his nose. It was disgusting but he didn't have any Kleenex and between the butt pain and the cold there wasn't much he could do about it.
Dad though handed him some tissue from his pocket. "Dude, hygiene." Jamie smiled. It was gross.
Dad looped his arm around Jamie and tugged him in close to his hip, half dragging, and half coercing him up to the house. As usual, just having his father's arm around his shoulders made him feel a little better. Jamie tried to think about it during the short walk to the house. About why his father was so flippin' crazy over this. It didn't make a lot of sense to him.
And there, on the walk to Lisa's house, Jamie had an epiphany. This was about his dad, but not in the way Jamie had thought. Jamie didn't like Lisa, not for what she had done to his dad, not for the pain she caused him, not for anything. But he glanced at his father and despite their recent altercation, his dad looked happy, rested and yeah even content. It was if this time with Lisa was a good thing for him. That their one night together was special for him. It occurred to him that for once, this wasn't about Jamie and what he wanted, it was about Dad and what he wanted and needed.
Maybe that was the strangest part of it all.
But as they headed into the kitchen with the warmth and smell of pancakes and coffee Jamie decided it was worth it. Lisa, the swamp, and even the ass kicking. He didn't understand why Dad needed Lisa or why he felt so strongly about protecting her but it didn't matter. He was a Winchester. Winchesters had each other's backs and if Dad needed a wingman than Jamie could do it.
Jamie thought of all the times his father had been there for him. He couldn't count them all, never even thought of it before. Dad was just Dad. He took care of him. Looked out for him. Yelled at him, walloped him, doled out hugs routinely and even kissed him, a harsh fact that was sometimes embarrassing but more often than not was just fine. Dad was in fact, a father.
It turned out that being a son was more than Jamie had ever thought about either. It was more than just about backing his dad up in Maryland swamp during one of he coldest winters known in this somewhat southern state, it was backing him up period.
His dad was worth the overall pain in the ass this hunt had turned out to be. And Jamie decided not only was he okay with that he wouldn't have it any other way.
End.