Supernatural Stories.

BSM- John gives you a hard time and they stand up for you

Age 14: "I-I'm sorry dad, I tried my best, I promise," you rambled with wild eyes, pleading lilt to your voice.
"So? You didn't succeed and that's unacceptable, you know this," John said evenly, which was frankly more terrifying than when he yelled.
"But you had me try to shoot a target that's adjusted for Dean! I'm not nearly good enough!" you argued.
Your point only seemed to agitate John further. "Doesn't matter. You're not good enough."
And those were the dreaded words. You were a pretty good shot, considering you were barely a teenager, but to your dad, you were just another minion. Another soldier he had to push to their limit and then a bit further.
"Dad, what's going on?" Dean asked from somewhere behind you, and even with your back turned, you knew Sam was with him. The leaves crunched under their heavy boots as they reached you and your dad.
"She missed the shot," John explained with a shrug, but you could see the anger simmering in his eyes. It was just a matter of moments before he'd blow up. "So she's not getting any dinner tonight, understood?"
Sam cast a glance at the target in the distance. The corners of his mouth turned down into a frown, and he nudged Dean. Dean followed Sam's gaze, and he too took notice of the target. "Why is Y/N shooting after Dean's target?" Sam asked, and both he and Dean turned back around with emotions flittering across their scrunched up faces.
"She has to get better."
"That's not fair. I've only just started hitting that target. I'm more than 10 years older than her," Dean pointed it, even as you shook your head frantically behind John's back, trying to warn him with your eyes not to go down that road.
"And why should I care?" You saw both your brothers tense up, and winced internally at the fight you knew was brewing under the tense surface.
"Because she's your daughter! She's not a toy, or-or a pet! She's a human being, dad. She won't ever get better if you give her tasks that are too difficult for her!" Sam exploded, arms flailing wildly in his anger.
"It made you two better, didn't it?"
Dean made a noise akin to a growl, and you stared, taken aback, as he brazenly stomped to the target. He kicked it down and drove a heel through the thin wood before returning to the rest of the family.
"It did, yeah, but it also fucked us up," Dean said.
"No, it made you better hunters," John snapped stubbornly.
"It made us less human!" Sam yelled. "We won't let you fuck her up too!"
"We were too young to know how to stand up for each other, but we're standing up for her," Dean backed Sam up, raising his chin to appear taller and more intimidating.
You'd never realized how differently your brothers handled their anger. Sam was wound up tight, and would snap every now and then, screeching the cruelest words delivered with an Oxford worthy vocabulary, while Dean was much calmer in his anger. You knew he too wouldn't last much longer, though, and would lunge at your father like an elastic band stretched too far. Hopefully, it wouldn't get that far, but Dean's fingers were twitching, and you knew there wasn't much time left.
"Guys, really, it's fine," you tried, but your pleading fell on deaf ears.
"You will do as I say. I'm your father and I make the decisions." You couldn't help but groan at the familiar words. How often hadn't you been told that?
"Do you have anything you want to add, failure?" John prompted, and suddenly you felt so pissed. How dare he?
"Yeah, I actually do," you said with a fake smile, raised the gun so it was pointed at the tree to John's left and pulled the trigger. John jumped away with a shout even though he knew fully well it wouldn't hit him. You kept pulling the trigger, one resounding crack after the other breaking the eerie silence of the deserted forest. You had to reload your gun a few times, but it was worth the look on your father's face when you finally lowered the gun to reveal your initials shot into the tree.
"I know how to handle a fucking gun, thank you very much," you told him drily and then breezed past him, tossing the empty gun so it landed in the damp grass with a thud, right at your father's feet.
"Stop being a damn prick and be a father instead," you heard Sam snap behind you before he and Dean followed your footsteps back to the hut you were currently staying in.
"That's our sister!" Dean crowed happily, as they caught up to you. He fist bumped the air happily before letting it fall to rest around your shoulders.
"I can't believe I just did that."
"I thought it was awesome," Sam commented offhandedly.
"Totally. He had it coming," Dean agreed.
"Maybe. It felt great, at least. Maybe I'll go catch a rabbit for dinner or something. Shit I won't get dinner the next three weeks."
"We'll sneak you some, I promise."