Nightingale - Dreamnotfound

||Locker Room Talk||

Shards of glass bottles used to fill the apartment lot to the brim. Mainly because years ago all the now-trained killers in The Specialty were all kids. Majority of whom had never held a gun before let alone shoot one.

Training evolved over the ten years the Specialty had been around. When I was training, I had to aim at glass bottles. I was told I had a knack for aim, although I always aimed just a bit too low. That was easily fixed, though. I just had to aim just a bit higher. The vast majority of the Specialty members now learned the same way.

However, as the years went on and the number of Specialties rose, it became harder to find glass bottles to use for the trainees. Many commons took them as their own means of self defense, and some Specialty trainees used to steal them to play with. Techno wasn't happy, but we were all still just kids. It wasn't like we'd ever get to experience what it was like to have a real bottle of beer in our hands anyway.

But the final straw that completely reformed the training process was when Wilbur noticed his adolescent trainees bleeding on the arms and legs. They'd have cuts from the many shards of glass throughout the lot because they were always stupid enough to shove eachother and wrestle just a bit too hard. After Punz got an infection in his arm, Wilbur completely confiscated glass bottles from going anywhere near the apartments and forced all of us to help clean up the old shards throughout the lot.

So Tommy and Tubbo learned to aim behind the apartment building. There was a giant target spray painted on the wall that they had to aim at. It didn't quite give the same feeling of achievement like hearing the sound of the glass bottles shatter did, but that could easily be the nostalgia talking.

Tommy had pretty accurate aim with the still targets, but moving targets was a different story. Sapnap threw random useless items he could find in the slums out for them to shoot, and Tommy didn't hit a single one. Tubbo, atleast, was average. He shot some, he missed others.

"Why do I need to learn how to shoot a moving target anyway?" Tommy asked. "Tubbo and I are going to be partners! He's good with moving targets, I'm good at still targets. We're a perfect team!"

Sapnap laughed. "Trust me, it's not always going to be that way."

"Tommy, what are you going to do if Tubbo can't help you? You can't just depend on someone else to protect you," I said.

"Why not? When would I have to be on my own without Tubbo?"

"If Tubbo's in danger. What if someone has their gun to his head? Then what?"

"Commons don't have guns, big man."

Sapnap ran a hand through his hair as he cut in. "Tommy, what Dream means is that even though you two will always be together, that doesn't mean you both will be on defense 24/7. Dream and I have been partners for five years and there have been countless times we saved each other's lives."

"Yeah," I mumbled.

"I can teach you my ways, if you'd like, Tommy," Tubbo said. "After all, I am better with the gun." He spun the gun around his finger the same way Sapnap did, except he dropped it. Both Sapnap and I flinched, and I immediately grabbed the gun. Thankfully it wasn't loaded.

"And that's a perfect way to end today's session," I said, handing the gun back to the younger boy.

"But it's early," Tubbo said with a frown. "Come on, the quicker we get through training, the quicker we get our first mission!"

"I'll continue the lesson," Sapnap said with a knowing grin. "Dream has to go see his boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" Both Tommy and Tubbo exclaimed at the same time. Tubbo in a confused tone, and Tommy in a surprised one.