The drive to Bobby's was a quick one, no big stops along the way besides dinner, gas then breakfast. All but John slept in the car. They stopped at a motel in Sioux Falls for a couple of days to give Bobby time to return from hunting.

"You know Johnny, a little more warning next time would be grand."

"Sorry Bobby. November kinda snuck up on us this year."

"How's the little ones?" Bobby asked, his tone changing from annoyance to caring on a dime.

"Good. Sammy is having his first shooting lesson today. Teaching him on the .45 with the carved white handle Jim gifted us with, he renews all the blessings on it every time we see him."

"Sam's still a bit little for that ain't he?"

"He's gotta do it at some point Bobby. Dean could shoot at 7."

"But not a .45, I was just saying…that things gotta kick to it."

"He'll be fine. We're practicing on an old fence with some cans. Just wait, he's gonna blow them all away." John said, not bothering to hide his pride in his son. He was going to do just fine. Just like his brother and sister.

The grass was nearly knee high and the kids sat on a picnic table that was on its way to returning to nature, the holes riddled through were black and rotten.

Sam watched curiously as John sat up cans on a wooden fence that led to a giant field. "Is it hard? To shoot the cans?"

"Nah." Dean said, leaning back and letting the limited sun warm his freckled face. "Once you learn to aim, it comes naturally. The hard part comes with moving targets, those are fun. More challenging."

John approached quietly, "Sit up Dean."

"Yes sir." He quickly sat up straight and faced forward.

Lesson time.

"Alright you three. Line up." John instructed.

The guns that had been lying the table untouched were picked up by the rightful sibling and they lined up shoulder to shoulder facing their father. He rounded to stand behind them.

"Natalie, want to take out the first set?"

Nodding, she flipped her pony-tail back over her shoulder, and adjusted her grip. Dean teased his sister mercilessly, (mostly on principle of being a girl) but he couldn't deny her deadly grace as she shot each of the cans and sent them flying over fence. His sister, he'd admit, was kinda badass.

"Very good. You've improved." John said. "Dean." He nodded to his oldest.

Dean almost looked bored as he shot of the next three cans. "Come on dad, need to upgrade the targets."

"This is just a practice drill for you, to keep you sharp, its lesson number one for Sammy, that's why we're keeping it easy."

Dean turned to his little brother, he looked scared stiff, he feet were wide apart, he held the gun at the ground, and even though he had the safety on, he kept glancing down like it would suddenly fire. "Don't you think he should try a lesser caliber first? That .45's a little big for him."

John shrugged. "Nat's first gun was a .45."

"And the kick threw my arms so hard over my head I thought my arms were gonna fall off." Natalie argued.

John tiredly ran his hand down over his face. "Don't argue. Give him the benefit of the doubt,"

John moved closer to his youngest, and with his toe, nudged Sam's feet closer together. "Sam, you remember the talk we had this morning?"

"Yes sir."

"What did I tell you?"

Sam gulped, "Don't point a gun unless you plan to shoot."

** "Yes. Now, once you're more experienced, you can loosen up a bit, but I want you standing like this," he manipulated Sam's stance, raising his arms and pressing his back straight. "Okay, use this part," He ran his fingers over the top of the gun, "to line your sight with what your aiming at, one eye here, one eye on target." John let go of Sam and took a step to the side. "Take the safety off and pointing away, from everyone, pull back on this part here" John tapped. It was a small struggle, and after nearly five minutes Sam got it cocked right. "Don't get flustered Sam." John said resting his hands on the base of Sam's neck. "We'll work on it. Fix your hand's back," before John could move his hands for him, Sam adjusted his grip perfectly. John couldn't contain his grin. "Good, it will be good for a few shots, before you have to re-cock it," John moved to stand further to the side of his son, but still far behind, He made sure his other kids were clear as well. They had taken their seats again at the picnic table. "Pull the trigger." **

Sam took a deep breath, holding it, and squeezed the trigger. Not even John expected Sam to fly back so fast. It was like an invisible rope just yanked him back. He even flew off his feet and landed hard on his back, letting the breath he had held out in one big forced huff.

John quickly reached for Sam and sat him up, "Are you okay?"

Sam took a shaky breath, tears threatening to gather in his eyes, "Landed hard." he wheezed.

John helped him to his feet, then scooped up the gun turning the safety back on. "Think you kids were right, too much kick."

"He can try my 9mm." Dean offered.

"Good idea Dean." They swapped guns, John checked how many bullets were left and nodded, mentally calculating how many he'd have to buy and make. Sam learning to shoot was gonna boost those numbers a tad. A necessary sacrifice.

"Dad?" His head glanced to his daughter, her voice odd.

"Yeah?" She was staring off at the cans, her arm rising to point.

Only two of the cans stood. There had been three.

"How in the world." John laughed, then clapped Sam on the back. "Yah got one Sammy," he said proudly.

Dean laughed, "Dude, when you are blowing targets away, try not to fly the other way. We all know how your last flight went." He winked.

Sam gave him an ugly look. "Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean shrugged, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Morons." Nat finished.

"Enough, all of you," John said, hiding his amusement under a thin layer of sternness. "Sam? Ready to try again?"

Sam nodded and stood where he had been before, and held the new gun. It did fit in his hand much better, and it was easier to cock. "I'm ready." He said.

"Go."

The next two cans flew off the fence. John and Sam's siblings just stood in awe.

"Dude. How…?" Dean said, finally speaking up.

Sam just shrugged. "Lucky shot?"

John just ran his hand over his hair. His children never ceased to amaze him.

** I know nothing about guns. All I know, is some, like high caliber, have bigger kicks.

(Everything is okay in the following mini-story) My friend went shooting with her dad, brother and uncle sometimes, and they gave her this gun to use once (idk what kind it was) she tried to argue the kick was too strong and she needed to use a different one and asked someone to swap, and the kick was so strong whenever she shot it, it threw her arms over her head really hard.

The only reason I know some of the names of the guns is from SuperWiki.

The .45 Sam uses at first is the one Dean mostly uses. I didn't want to call it by its name, Colt### didn't want it to be confused with THE Colt.

The 9mm that Dean swaps with Sam is Sam's preferred Beretta. Hence why they have what gun they have.

If anyone would like to drop some gun facts in my PM or even in the review thread so others could see that would be awesome. **