APPENDIX A

Alex age 9

"Okay, so we're starting you off with this little one. You'll work your way up to the bigger ones as you get more experienced, but for your first try, we're takin' it easy," Dean laid out the course plan.

"Okay," agreed Alex.

"Okay, now," Dean turned her toward the target, "you want your dominant hand to be kind of the resting place for the grip. So the intersection of your thumb and forefinger–," he traced the curve of skin on her hand to illustrate, "–to be right up underneath this curve below the back of the barrel." He placed the gun in her hand and meshed her fingers around the grip.

"So then I shoot like this?" she asked, then turning slightly sideways, her arm out straight to aim the gun at the target on the other end of the indoor range.

"Eeh, let's start with two hands first," he rotated her body back to parallel with the target.

"It's not that heavy," she protested.

"It's not the weight of the gun, honey, it's the kickback that's the trick."

"Kickback?"

"Yeah," replied Dean. "See, when you fire a gun, the force doesn't all go into the bullet. It has to push off of something to get moving. You're providing the backboard for the bullet to jump off of. So basically, you have to resist the tiny explosion that happens every time you fire."

"Oh," Alex looked a little nervous now.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it. And, like I said, we're starting you out easy. That's why you've got the little gun."

She looked down at the compact 4mm in her hand.

"Anyway, back to the lesson. Now remember our safety rules; when you're not ready to fire, keep your pointer finger straight out above the trigger, just on the side of the barrel. That's the way. Now your other hand wraps around the fingers of the dominant hand around the front of the grip. And tuck that thumb up under the other one. Get those thumbs up against the gun, not on your fists. Good. Careful not to cross them over one another. Awesome. Now keep your form in check; arms straight out in front of you, but relax your shoulders and bend a little at the elbows. Don't turn your body. Keep your stance wide and your knees bent. You need all of this to absorb that kickback we talked about. You have to allow your body to move, but you have to keep your muscles engaged so you can withstand the force. Feel strong?"

"Yeah… do you have a smaller gun?" Alex asked.

"It's about as small as they get, baby girl. If it weren't a semi-automatic, it'd be a starter's pistol. I'm not sure why Sam and I even have it," Dean pondered. "Don't worry. It's scary at first, but you just need to get used to it.

"Dad," Alex let the gun fall to her side and turned towards her father, "why do I have to learn this?"

"We've been through this, Alex; you have to be able to protect yourself," replied Dean.

"From who?" Alex begged.

Dean paused, his expression falling slightly. "It's a dangerous world, baby girl, full of dangerous things, and a lot of them like to hang around your uncle and me. Now, learning to hold your own isn't going to make it all any less dangerous, but it's going to make you better prepared to handle it. And that ability is going to give us both a lot more peace of mind. Okay?"

"Okay," Alex relented.

"Good. Now turn around," she turned, "get into your stance," she positioned herself and held the gun aloft, "don't forget to protect your ears," Dean added noise canceling headphones to the goggles she was already wearing, then adorning himself with his own, "then take aim and when you're ready, fire."

There was a pause of two seconds, then a small bang. It startled Alex enough that she gave a short, high-pitched screamed… as she was tipping backwards from the force of the kickback. Dean chuckled, putting his hands on her back to stop her fall and prop her back up.

"Pretty powerful, right? But looky there! You hit the paper! Not bad for a first shot."

"Do I have to do this every day?" Alex asked, a hint of a whine creeping into her tone.

"No, not every day. Some days we'll practice hand-to-hand combat," Dean teased, although he wasn't far off the truth. "After you finish your homework."

Alex nodded, but she still appeared crestfallen. Dean saddened at the sight. He saw in her the future that lay ahead, a dark and dreary life he had always feared she'd have to live. A life like his.

"I know it sucks, kiddo, I've been there, too," he told her gently. "My dad made me do the same kind of stuff, the same training and it wasn't always fun. And I can't say I won't have to put you through the same routines, but I promise, I won't force it on you with the harshness my dad did. I'm not your drill sergeant, I'm your dad."

"Okay," replied Alex, a little less downcast this time.

"All right, why don't you squeeze off a couple more rounds at that target and then we'll call it a day?"

"Okay," she said uncertainly, turning with trepidation. "I'm gonna fall over again."

"No, you're not. Now you know what it feels like, you'll be ready," prompted Dean.

She sucked in a breath, then fired. This time, she didn't fall over. One, two, three more times after that she took a shot, each one with a longer pause in between. Finally she gasped and dropped her hands down, looking tired.

"Okay, good job, baby girl," Dean praised.

"It's so tiring!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, it is. You'll get stronger," Dean assured her. "Now, turn your safety on. Good, and press this button to eject the clip–."

The clip slid out of the butt of the gun, evaded Alex's attempt to grab it and clattered on the cement floor.

Dean snickered, "It's okay, just put your hand under it before you press the button next time. Now remove the bullet in the chamber by sliding the top back – good. Double check that everything's empty…

"… and we're done. We can call that a good day, baby girl," Dean packed the gun away in its case and pecked his daughter on the head. "You hungry? I was thinking something fried for dinner."

He turned.

"Hello, Dean." Castiel stood within inches of the elder Winchester, who jumped in place on sight of the angle.

"GEEZ, Cas," Dean began and went to back away.

Cas stopped him with one hand around his shoulder. Then Dean felt something long, cool and obviously very sharp slide into his abdomen, up underneath his sternum and run deep into his heart, causing it to spasm and flutter. The pain didn't seize him immediately; it was the shock of having a foreign object imbedded so far into his body that made every one of his muscles shutter and freeze.

Alex screamed.

"Cas…," Dean hissed, breathless, confused and disbelieving.

"I am sorry, Dean," and this time, he looked it, "but Joshua desires to speak with you."

Cas removed his angel blade, allowing a fount of blood to spill freely down Dean's stomach, staining his shirt nearly black. His heart stopped; he felt the strength drain from his body. His legs began to buckle underneath him. He did not fall, however, as Castiel supported Dean, his free arm tight about Dean's chest and back.

"You will be returned shortly to your body," Castiel attempted to reassure him.

Dean began to go limp, the cold chill of death creeping in. Castiel lowered him slowly and gently to the ground, laying him out on his back. Dean's body slumped on the cement, his limbs coiling like cloth ribbon. His breath came in short, intermittent gasps, since his lungs burned for air but the pain of the wound wouldn't allow him to expand his chest more than an inch. What little control he had left he used to gaze at Cas in bewilderment, questioning the action.

At last, his head touched the ground. At the same time, the lights began to fade. Alex's continued screams became muffled and distant. He felt one aching pang of guilt and fear for her, one last powerful emotion, before everything, even his thoughts, numbed. He paled, and died.

Alex continued to scream wordlessly.

"Please," Castiel said, finally looking to her, "do not be afraid. Your father will return soon."

She continued to scream, but additionally abandoned fear and reason and rushed Castiel. Her fists balled tight, she punched and kicked at the angel. She did absolutely no damage to him, of course, hardly even caused him pain. He looked quizzically down at her, trying gently to restrain her flailing hands and feet.

"Listen, Alex, this is only temporary," he tried to reassure her.

She was inconsolable.

That was when Sam rushed in, gun in hand, having heard his niece's screams. He paused at the doorway, confused, and tried to process the situation. Upon glimpsing his brother's lifeless body on the floor and the bloody angel blade in Casteil's hand, he came to the realization.

"Cas!" he chided. "What the hell?!"

"It is only temporary," Castiel attempted an explanation once more. "Joshua wished to speak with Dean. He will be returned to his body when they are finished conversing."

"You couldn't have just zapped him up to Heaven?"

"I am currently not welcome in Heaven," Castiel looked sheepish.

Sam scoffed. "When are you ever?"

Alex's screams had morphed into tears. She stopped fighting Castiel and instead tore away from him, flinging herself onto Dean's body.

Sam sighed, "Seriously, though, Cas – you couldn't have waited until Alex wasn't around? She just lost her parents! She doesn't need to loose another one, even if it's just for a few minutes!"

"Is she not aware of this type of occurrence, in which someone dies and is later revived?" inquired Castiel.

"No," Sam said heavily, tucking his firearm away and walking over to Alex and her father. There he crouched down and gently rubbed Alex's back as it shook with sobs. "Hey, it's going to be okay, sweetie. He's coming back soon. It's okay. Shh, shh."

"Oh," Castiel looked guilt-ridden. He also moved to kneel beside Alex. "Alex, I am… very sorry. I didn't realize this would be so upsetting for you. I know it is little consolation, but your father will be in perfect health when he returns, which will be shortly. Nonetheless, you have my sincerest apologies for… killing him in the first place. That does sound bad, doesn't it?" he redirected his words to Sam.

"Yeah," Sam bit off. "It does."

It was then that Dean's eyes flicked open. Then they were shut tight again as he struggled to regain control of his bodily function. He gasped, then coughed, and gasped again.

"Dad!" Alex screamed, and wrapped her arms around him.

"What the hell, Cas?" Dean snapped at the angel, returning his daughter's hug. "Couldn't have waited a few minutes? Or asked me first?"

"I am sorry," Castiel replied solemnly. "I feel like I apologize a lot."

"That's because you do a lot of stupid crap," Sam scolded. "Dean, are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Dean growled, then mumbled under his breath, "Friggin' angels.

"Sammy? We got work to do."

A/N: So... I wrote this before I saw season 9... Sorry for the weird, accidentally mirrored event.

Thanks for reading! More appendices to come!