Bloodline (Supernatural)

8 - No More Wasting Time

Unfortunately, a hunter's job is never done. Sam and Dean can't commit to teaching me full time. While they're away on cases, I'm either alone or Cas drops by to babysit. I appreciate him when he's around; he makes me feel safer, even with the bunker wardings.

Sam and Dean recently got back from a case, not pertaining to mine. It was something about a ghoul a few states over. They filled me in on what details they were willing to give.

Ghouls are nasty as hell.

Today, I've decided to go snooping around the bunker some more. While I did find a weapons room, I have a specific goal in mind today. I have gun-loading down fairly well. The next big step is learning how to properly use the damn thing. While a gun won't be ideal, I want to be armed with something. Hell, I'll take a bat or a crowbar if it means I stand a chance.

If I can get my hands on a gun, one that will work with me well enough, I'll start learning how to shoot, but I'm definitely having Sam or Dean supervise. I'm not making the same mistake like I did with the knife. The blade only cut my palm, a bullet can kill me.

I would've never thought about picking up a gun before now.

"Bored?" Dean asks as we cross paths in the hall.

"Nope, on a mission," I say.

"What sort of mission?"

"I want to learn how to shoot."

"Shoot?"

I nod. "Come on, people younger than me are learning how to use a firearm. Why can't I?"

"Because you're still in training. We were starting with lore and the basics."

"Yeah, well, that's getting too slow for me now. I want to step it up." Besides, the more time we waste training me, the more time Cole is possessed by his demon. I can only imagine how terrified Cole is. How he sees his body doing such terrible things. If he even is allowed to be a spectator.

"Alright. Well, before you go shooting anything, you have to know your weapon. Come on."

I follow Dean out into the bunker library, where Sam is. He looks up as he notices us.

"Willa wants to learn how to shoot," Dean tells him. "Figured we could tackle this feat together."

"'Feat'?" Sam scoffs. "That's a bit of a fancy word for you."

"Oh, shut up." Dean pulls a gun out from behind him. Does he carry one everywhere he goes? "Have a seat. We're gonna teach you how to pull it apart and put it back together. Step by step."

"Make sure you dumb it down for me," I tell him.

I listen as, between Sam and Dean, I watch them dismantle the gun. This is different from before. Before, they only showed me how to load the gun, not construct and deconstruct it. They tell me about the parts and what goes in where. When they turn it over to me to disassemble, I master that pretty quickly. Building it back up is more difficult, I have to be shown a few extra times.

"But don't I really need to know just how to load it?" I ask.

"Rather be safe than sorry," says Dean.

After we spend a good few hours on gun anatomy, we go to another room in the bunker, a shooting gallery. Dean hands me the gun, and the brothers are behind me. I can feel their judgmental eyes on me. Or they're not judgmental and I'm just pressuring myself.

"It's okay if you miss on your first shot," Sam tells me. "Just take your time for now."

My first shot, as expected, misses and hits the cement wall at the other end of the room. I'm not too disappointed. I hit something that isn't human flesh, so that's a good start.

"Get a feel for it," says Dean.

"I can't if you keep talking to me," I mutter.

"Hey, just helping you out, Willa."

"Not really. Why don't you just be a silent teacher, like Sam's being right now?"

I fire a few more bullets. Some nick the paper target that's hanging on the wall. Otherwise, I've got no success.

"You can't expect to be a master on your first try," Dean says. "It's gonna take some time, and practice."

"Maybe someday I'll be better than you two," I tease.

"Big thinking for such a small girl."

I snort. "One of these days I'll do it. You won't be saying it then."

* * *

Today has been really tiring. After dinner, I changed and am ready for bed. Along the way to my room, I pick up on voices.

"You can't build her up like that, Dean," Sam scolds. "Telling her that she'll be home soon. Believe me, I want that for her as much as you do, but do you really think it's gonna happen? What if she goes home and it doesn't end with us? What if something happens to her, and her mom gets hit in the crossfire?"

"We'll give her the tools she'll need when she goes. We're not gonna leave her defenseless, Sam."

"Dean, you know as well as I do that sometimes the life follows you once it takes hold. I have a bad feeling it'll still cling to Willa once this is solved."

"We can't keep her here with us after this is over, Sam. The kid has a life! Condemning her to here wouldn't be fair."

"You know," I say loudly, interrupting the two men, who both look at me in surprise, "if you're gonna discuss my life, don't you think I should get a say in it?"

Both avoid my eyes.

"By all means, keep talking. It sounded like it was getting interesting."

Both Winchesters look at each other, daring the other to speak first. Sam attempts to first, but I put a hand out to stop him. He stops midstride.

"Look, I see both sides. This might not stop at the bunker, or with you guys. Or, this situation may stop once we figure this out. But we won't know until we reach that point. We got to stop screwing around and bring that son of a bitch here. We can hopefully get what we need from him, and we can hopefully get Cole back."

"How soon do you wanna go through with this?" Sam asks me.

"If you can wrangle Cas here...tonight."