Raising Robins

The Second Amendment

It had been a whole month since the boys were grounded. Now they were out again on patrol, save for Jason, who was caught with the same gun as the night that they BECAME grounded.

Tim called Jason an idiot. "You're an idiot." Yep. that's what he said.

Jason groaned and wiped his face. He was sent to the edge of his bed, which was never good. Should he just bare himself now? Turn around and give his father a target to make a statement against? Shit. He should at least buy a silencer. Maybe then his father wouldn't know. That was dumb. His father was Batman.

He waited and waited. He would have fallen asleep, watched a video, hell, even read a book, but finally his father arrived, paddle in hand. Jason didn't want a lecture.

"Two."

"Two what?" Jason asked.

"Two pages on gun control, its dangers, and why we don't use them."

"Second amendment, Dad."

"So now you are disagreeing?"

"Will you entertain it if it is a civil disagreement?"

"Okay." Bruce agreed.

"I'm a citizen. I get rights." Jason argued.

"Jason, you're sixteen." Bruce reminded him. "You can't even vote. A gun can kill. You have less control. It could hurt you, too."

"Hey, Dad? Remember that thing where I died?"

"Do you remember when you get 20 paddle swats?"

"No."

"You will." Bruce said. Jason talked with his father for longer before agreeing that setting off the inevitable would just cause more hell, so he turned around to face the bed, pulled off his pants and boxers, and grabbed the silk duvet on the bed.

THWACK!

One was hard. Two was hard. Three was hard. Is this where it was starting?!  Jesus. Jason popped up on five and rubbed his butt.

"Dad, I'm sorry." Jason said, near tears.

"I'm very disappointed." Bruce sighed. He hated spanking the kids. This was the third kid in a week. Good God. Was it a full moon or something? They really needed the structure of school, but summer school was past it's admission date and the boys were advanced enough. They would hate it. Bruce was in his own thoughts when he heard Jason sniff and choke down a swallow. He had given two more swats and then Jay was sobbing, openly.

The paddle felt like lightning across his whole bottom, and he was only at five.

"Dad!" Jason practically screamed. "I'm sorry." he said, after a pause.

"I know." Bruce said, tapping Jason's pink bottom and preparing the next swat. By the time Bruce had finished, Jason was sobbing. He ordered his son to stand in the corner. Jason had a tendency to rub the sting out of his ass, and so Bruce gave him the option to hold his shirt or put his hand on his heads. Jason held the neckline of his t-shirt, and sniffled.

Bruce hugged his son and left. Jason was spending sixteen minutes in the corner. He could feel snot running down his nose and so he wiped it on his shirt. At fifteen minutes, Bruce ordered him to go and collect his guns. All of them, and bring them to the study, where Bruce kept a safe. Jason was done crying. He didn't want anything touching his bottom, but he still put on boxers and stiffly gathered the three in his room and told his Dad where the final pistol was, asking if he would get it on his own because walking hurt and he wanted to take a shower. Bruce's face was soft, again, and so he nodded and put a hand on Jason's shoulder.

"Go shower." But then his voice stiffened. "And don't you ever do that again."

Jason nodded. He would have to wait another two whole years before he was able to purchase one legally. That seemed forever away, but as he turned on the cold water, he felt better and could finally sleep it off. Being July, the sun was out late, but he didn't care. Six pm was now bedtime. Goodnight, everyone. Goodbye, guns.