Angels and Demons (Stiaasac Teen Wolf)

Chapter 4

"Okay, Stiles, remember what we talked about yesterday," Dean sighed. "Hands up."

     "Dean, if you're trying to get me to take my shirt off, this isn't the way," Stiles sighs lifting his hands to his face. Dean scoffs before coming at Stiles full speed. "Shit." Stiles ducks out of Dean's reach and goes for the legs. Which Sam had given the tip to him earlier. For the first time in a week, Dean went down. "Game. Set. Fuck, I can't breathe."
    "Well, if you did what we said, you'd be able to," Dean got up. "Good job though. Sam tell you that?"
  "Surprise. Surprise. Dean got something right," Stiles groaned. "I am gonna throw up. Nope, I am going to die. I am going to die in my puke."
  "Keep talking and I'll Make that happen."

   "Make it fast," Stiles said. "Okay. I'm ready."
  "You sure?" Dean was trying to find out how to get to the kid. Luckily, that's where Sam came in. "Look, I get it. You're just a kid. Things are hard. Maybe you should just rely on your friends to take care of you." Stiles huffed and shook off a little rigidness in his limbs. "I mean look at you. You can barely keep your hands at your face. You relied on Sam's word to get me down. You have to pay attention to people. Can't even do that can you?"
    "I am doing the best I can," Stiles said. "It's not like I have been trained to do this. I grew up normal, thanks." 
  "No, you grew up protected by your cop dad," Dean snipped. "There is a difference. Get your head out of your ass, Stiles, if you can't you are going to die. And, I guarantee that whatever it is that kills you is not going to be anymore pleasant then the Nogistune taking over your body. Did you like it?"
  "Of course I didn't," Stiles said. "Did you?"
  "Doesn't matter. Nobody likes weak, lazy, spastic boys," Dean crossed his arms. Stiles was getting mad, he could tell by the tensity in his jaw. "Did I piss you off? Show me. Show me that I shouldn't be saying this. Punch me. I won't even try to stop you." Stiles gripped his fists. "Come on! Don't be a bitch!" Stiles finally wound his arm and nailed Dean in the face. The older man staggered back holding his face. "There you go! I knew you had a good punching arm. Now, try to get that strength when we practice. That fire is going to keep you alive."
    "I thought it was my amazing personality," Stiles said. "People love me."
  "Keep telling yourself that," Dean laughed. "I know you can escape a hit. You are doing okay with blocking too. You just have to be able to deflect it. So, when you have their hands  in yours." He grabbed Stiles' hands showing him. "Twist here. Then, kick here." Suddenly, Stiles was flying to the ground. "That is just one of many ways to go."
    "I know," Stiles let out a panicked breath. "I have been working on it with George at the hotel."

   "Good. Getting a werewolf down is a lot of work. Usually, I just go with a bullet to the shoulder," he gestured to a spot. "Which brings me to a new lesson. I am gonna teach you to be a good shot."
    "What? How are you going to do that?" Stiles asks.
  "With these," Dean pulled out nerf guns. "I am not letting your clumsy ass get your hands on a real gun until I know for sure you can handle it."
    "My dad is a cop," he scoffs.  "I know how to handle a gun."
    "No," Dean points at him. "You know how to aim at an unmoving target and hit in its general direction. You don't know how to hit a moving target, let alone one that looks like its human."

   "Touche."
  "Now, I want this one," Dean pulls out a red gun. "There's that blue one or the yellow ones."

   "Well, I am gonna get this one," He pulled out the white one on the bottom. "The N-Strike was one of the best to come out."
  "We will see," Dean said. "Cas, set the targets up." The angel did as told, setting multiple targets in different places. "You get through this part. We move on to paintball."
  "Really?" Stiles smiles. "I haven't played paintball since I was a freshman. It's not fair because all of my friends have heightened senses." 

   "Show me you can shoot and I will order the tickets after," Dean said. "We will start off easy and gradually get harder." He points at a can. "Hit it." Stiles steadied his hands and shot the can. "Good. Next one." Stiles did each as told. "Okay. Now, I know that you weren't lying. But, can you hit a moving target?" Stiles  shrugs. "Key to it is timing. If you can time the speed of the target then you can hit them." Stiles nods. He knew this already, he had studied his  father  and Chris enough. And there have been a lot of guns pointed at Stiles' head. He just had to make sure he could keep a steady hand. That was always the problem. "Alright Cas. Jack. You know what to do."
    Stiles watched as the first can flew. It was almost like time itself slowed. He waited for it to get right in front before shooting. The can flew back as the nerf dart hit it. More cans flew and still they moved slowly in front of him. He shot each easily, until he ran out of darts. Without thinking he threw the gun at the last target. The plastic gun hit the ground and he heard it crack, which seemed to put everything back into regular speed. "Shit."
    "Damn kid," Dean whistled. "If I knew you were that good, I would have left the nerf guns to myself. Have you hunted ducks or anything?"
    "Never," Stiles mumbled. "It was like time itself slowed down. It was very surreal."
  "Hmm," Dean shrugs. "Never heard of that happening."
    "Probably just an ADHD thing," Stiles said. "Okay, now that we know that I can shoot. What now?"
  "I think we are done for the day," Dean says. "Unless Sam or Cas have anything. But, I suggest you shower. You smell worse than I did when I climbed out of  the ground from Hell."
  "You guys really need to find new hyperboles," Stiles said. "I know that you have been to Hell a lot, but I can never tell which time you are  talking about."