A/N: Okey dokey... that last fic-- I was really curious how some of you would take it;
some understood it, some didn't. Like Landwing said in their review, love and hate are extremely
close to each other-- often overlapping. It is very possible to love someone and hate them at the
same time, and Ziggy, too, is right-- sometimes you hate someone for the exact reasons that you
love them-- you want to punch the living daylight out of a person for the same reason you want to
hug them. Trust me, I know-- haha, I have three brothers. Sometimes I see this in Sam and
Dean, and so had decided to write a story putting the emotions in blunt terms. Glad some of ya
like it!
So with this story, I searched-- haha, very briefly-- the site, and only found one story kindda like
this. Though all episodes were awesome in season two, the episode 'No Exit' lacked some of the
qualities the other ones had. Though it did have a very interesting conversation between Dean
and Jo, and Dean talks about the memory with his Dad that he won't forget-- the first time he was
taken out shooting. So, I took the memory, and ran with it-- producing this nice little fic. Enjoy!
Title: Papa Winchester
Genre: It's a nice, almost a little fluffy fic.
Summary: Dean was only six years old when his Dad took him out shooting for the first
time...
It was an odd sensation to John Winchester as he pulled into the old farm. The sun was shinning, and he had his two boys in the back seat of the car. Two year old Sam was asleep from the two hour car ride, though six year old Dean was pretty much the opposite; staring out the window with anticipation. The place belonged to John's friend Caleb, and it was used precisely for the reason the Winchester's were there for.
Training.
John was taking Dean out shooting for the first time, and it was hard to tell whether John was more nervous, or Dean more excited. Either way almost immediately after stopping the car Dean quickly undid his seat belt and flung open the door.
"Come on Dad!" he cried out, "I want to try."
"Just wait," John smiled getting out and rounding to the back seat, "I have to get your brother."
"Let him sleep," Dean waved a hand towards the still slumbering toddler, "He'll just get in the way."
"Dean…" John frowned at his eldest.
Dean flushed slightly, "Sorry."
Turning away John let out a small chuckle as he undid Sam's booster seat straps, and carefully lifted him out of the back seat. Cradling young Sammy on one hip, John closed the door and went to the trunk.
"The guns," Dean whispered out excitedly, staring at his Dad's movements.
"Here," John pulled out a small stroller that was tucked into the trunk, "Set this up for me while I find what we need."
Dean let out a small groan, though by the time he was done the simple task, John had closed the trunk and turned around. Wordlessly he placed the still sleeping Sam into the stroller, and started walking down the gravel roadway to behind one of the barns.
"What am I going to shoot?" Dean questioned.
"Exactly what I tell you to," John spoke, "And if you play around at all Dean, I am taking you home, and we aren't going to be coming back until you're thirty."
Dean giggled, "What about Sammy? When are you going to teach him to shoot?"
"When he's older," John grinned, "Right now lets work on teaching him to dress himself properly."
Finally the three Winchester's got to a clearing with a tall oak tree. What looked like a very tall bench with platforms at different heights stretched out for nearly thirty feet. John placed his bag down on the ground, and took out half a dozen cans and bottles, and with Dean watching, set them at different levels along the platform.
"Alright Dean," John spoke, "You're going to practice using a BB Gun, ok?"
"But Dad," Dean groaned, slumping his shoulders, "I already know how to use one of those."
"I know you do," John confirmed, "Which is why we're going to practice with that."
John pulled out a small gun which looked as if it could easily be a hand gun.
"Wow," Dean's eyes brightened, "I've never seen that one before. Is it a real one, or a BB Gun?"
"A BB," John handed it to his eldest son, "It's a specially made one that Pastor Jim made for you, and is meant to work just like a real gun. Try it out; see if you can hit the targets."
Dean wordlessly nodded and aimed towards the bottles. Cocking the gun, he pulled the trigger, and with small 'pop', knocked out the first target. Not looking towards his Dad, Dean continued to knock out all six targets before placing the gun at his side grinning.
"Good job Dean," John smiled, "Are you ready for the real thing now?"
"I think so," against his enthusiasm before, nervousness now slipped through the six year old.
"You don't have to Dean," John immediately said, "I don't want you doing this until you're completely ready."
"No, I'm ready," Dean quickly spoke, "But what about Sammy? Won't it be loud for him?"
"I'll get him ready," John assured, "I just want to know that you're ready first."
Dean took a deep breath and pulled his frame up as high as possible, "I'm ready Sir."
"Good," John nodded, and pulled out a small hand gun, "Which one is this?"
"The .49," Dean immediately replied, "It has a small kickback, but is powerful enough to kill anything."
"All guns can kill people," John warned handing the gun to Dean, "Now show me how you hold it when you're about to shoot."
Like an expert, Dean clutched the gun and pointed it towards the cans and bottles.
"Don't lock your elbows," John walked over and held onto Dean's arms, loosening them, "You have to keep a grip on the gun, but keep your elbows loose; you can dislocate a shoulder, or break something if the kickback is too strong."
Dean nodded, and did as he was told.
"Alright," John nodded, "You're ready." he walked over to the still slumbering Sam, "Hey Sammy, it's time to wake up."
Sam let out a wide yawn, and squinted through tired eyes, "Daddy?"
"Yeah buddy," John grinned, "Dean's going to shoot now, so you have to get up, ok?"
Sam nodded, and John helped him out of the stroller. Confused by the different surroundings, the two year old stood for a few moments staring around at things.
"Hi Sammy," Dean grinned over at his little brother.
"Hi Dean," Sam let out another yawn.
"Put these on," John walked over with a pair of noise protectors to Dean, "and when you see that Sammy and I are a safe distance away, and Sam's ears are covered, you can take the safety off, and go at it. Alright?"
"Yes Sir," Dean swallowed.
"Come here Sammy," John took Sam's hand and pulled him ten feet away from the eldest brother.
Crouching down, John stood Sam in front of him, and held what looked liked giant headphones over the young boys ears. Dean looked over, and John gave a small, confirmative nod. His heart thumping in his chest, Dean took a deep breath and cocked the gun. Hand steady, he aimed and pulled the trigger.
The first can shot out across the field.
Five more shots blasted out on that warm summer morning, and five more targets were hit dead on by one Dean Winchester. It was over in less than a minute, but the six year old knew the feeling would last a life time and more. Carefully he replaced the safety as his Dad had always taught him, and held the warm gun down to his side. With his free hand, Dean removed the protection from his ears, and looked over at his Dad.
It was a look Dean would never forget, and would hold close to him for the rest of his life. John remained crouched down with Sam now sitting on the grass in front. Slowly a smile spread to his Dad's face that made the six year think he'd concurred the world.
He knew he hadn't though… it just felt like it.