Crazy Mind -Destiel-

10- Powers?

After waiting over ten minutes for the feeling to come back to his legs Dean decides that the best thing to do is regain at least some muscle memory, especially since he's being hunted by a pack of all-powerful supernatural creatures. He convinces Bobby to train him an hour later and after much effort on Dean's part, Bobby accepts.

Dean gets dressed into a loose pair of jeans and a jumper that Bobby had come across in the gas station that morning. Where he actually came across them went unspoken. He and Bobby drive to a nearby field (after asking Castiel to fit the door) and find a small area crowded by trees to not draw attention to themselves and a few shooting targets: a soda can, an old cowbell and something metal and disfigured. By the time they finish, it's nearing midday and the sun is set high above them heating the ground.

"Right." Bobby starts, a gun ready in hand. "Aim." Dean's eyebrow raises. "Aim." He repeats. Bobby holds the gun out in front of him pointedly holding the end away from both him and Dean. Dean watches with contained fascination at the way Bobby handles the gun, obviously familiar. How he's familiar Dean doesn't know. He doesn't think he wants to. John had told him that he used to be a cop, ex-military, weapon engineer, the occupation would change every other time Dean asked. No matter what his occupation he was a hunter, his job always to find people, save people.

Bobby hands over the gun with care, arranging Dean's hands so that he is holding it properly. Bobby pulls his hands into position, high on the grip. "First, always use your dominant hand, best stability, better aim." Dean twitches his last two fingers around the base of the grip his ring finger resting on the trigger. Bobby manhandles his hands again. "Shooting finger should never be on the trigger unless you're aiming and going to shoot." He grumbles. "Index, middle, ring and pinky, on the other hand, should be around the base and your other hand. There. Now you have balance." He nudges the end of the gun. "Loosen your grip a bit, it needs to be firm but don't be afraid of it."

Dean nods, the weight of the gun pulling his aim slightly. Bobby nudges Dean's foot with his own. "Shoulder width apart, knees slightly bent." Dean moves his feet out slightly trying to keep his body relaxed, grounded. He squares his shoulders and leans ever so slightly forward. One of his eyes closes targeting with his dominant eye, a slight bend in his elbows. His aim circles moving in a small figure of eight, swaying side to side as his muscle memory fails to keep his arms steady.

Bobby nods at him, giving him the go-ahead. Dean hesitates. "Don't anticipate the shot." He says. "Only focus on aiming and technique." Dean breathes in slowly, aiming. He pulls the trigger. The first shot echoes across the wide landscape like the sound of lightning hitting the ground. The bullet slices through the air missing the target by at least ten inches as it lands in a tree just behind. Dean frowns. Bobby slaps him on the back with a smile. "Not bad," He nods. "Better than your dad was." Dean's eyes widen. "Dad knew how to shoot?"

Smiling pensively, Bobby takes the gun from Dean's hand and giving it a once over. "Yeah, it was my suggestion, a precaution to keep you boys safe once he found out about all this." Bobby hands the gun back to him, patting his shoulder encouragingly. Dean smiles back half-heartedly taken aback with this new discovery as he takes the weapon, holding it with both hands.

"John knew about angels?" Bobby shrugs. "He knew enough to keep you safe. The less you know the less likely you are to seek them out." He says pointedly. Dean ducks his head. Bobby's properly right, Bobby's always right, he'd go searching for the supernatural the moment he heard about them. Unlike John who continued life like normal. He wonders how the hell his dad did it.

He glances down at the gun in his hand, the weight of it suddenly feeling much heavier. "Bobby?" He talks to Bobby's back as the older man organises the weaponry behind him. Bobby grunts in response. "Am I...I mean- is there..." He exhales frustrated, keeping his gaze to the ground as Bobby turns to face him.