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Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Snippets Thirty-Eight: Shooting Practice

The day after John’s arrival, Dean was awakened early by his father.  The sun was just rising. John had some clothing laid out for the boy.

“Daddy?” his son whispered.

“I have a test for you, Son.  Get dressed.”

The young boy hurried to get into his clothing.  Castiel was infuriated.  This was too early be taking a child who knew where.  There was nothing he could do unless Father allowed it.  There had been enough problems over the four flat tires.

John handed his son a soda and a package of mini donuts.  They left the house and went towards the Impala.  John took a pistol and a bag of bottles and cans, and motioned for the boy to follow him.

The father and son walked for almost a mile towards Bobby’s shooting range.  The angel walked behind them, bothered by the gun.

When they reached the range, John set bottles and some cans on posts and hung some in the air with string and hit them so they were moving.  He showed Dean how to use the automatic and explained the kick in it.  The angel’s grew wider.  Was the man insane?

Dean was told to take a deep breath, release, aim and fire.  His father explained that it was important to hit every one of the targets.  The boy nodded.

The revolver was heavy.  John stood back and watched his five-and-a- half-year-old son aim the gun, expecting the child to miss every one of the targets.  Dean spread his legs to help steady his hands.  His father’s eyebrows went up.  The child breathed deeply, letting the air out slowly and started firing.  He lowered the gun and stood there.

John Winchester walked towards his son and took the gun.  The clip was empty. There had been enough bullets to take out each target with one shot. The man looked at the targets.  Every one of them had been hit.  He turned and stared at his son and grinned the biggest grin Dean had seen in a long time.  He slapped him on the back and they headed back to the house.

John was contented.  Dean walked beside him, only knowing he had somehow pleased his dad.  Castiel was striving to gain self-control.  If it weren’t for Dean and Sam, he would have contemplated letting Azazel know where the man was.  What John Winchester had just done was set his son on a course that would bring nothing but sorrow and grief. The angel was completely distraught.

Castiel felt a breath of air wash over him.

‘You’re job has just begun, Castiel.  You must now protect the hero.’

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