Guns And Horses.

 I'm being cruel, and posting this in sections. Muahaha, so this is the first installment of a "teach-'em-how-to-shoot" oneshotty thingymajig. Always wanted to do one, and I finally got inspired by the song guns and horses by Ellie Goulding.

"You move so fast, makes me feel lazy. And let's join forces, we've got our guns and horses."

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“This is ridiculous!” Emmy stormed, kicking over one of the cans Sam had thrown on the dusty track. “We’re going to shoot ourselves!”

Here they were, in the middle of nowhere, with one man building a shelf of cans and another holding the largest gun Lauren had ever seen. Apparently it was “time” as Dean had explained so elegantly. He had practically dragged them out of the motel and into the car, and Sam had sat with a small grin plastered on his face for the entire journey. Obviously the two had been conspiring for a few days about this. Before Lauren had fallen asleep last night, she had heard quietened whispers which warranted a low chuckle from Dean. She kicked herself for not eavesdropping.

“No you won’t.” Sam grinned, striding off to a bunch of ill-placed shelves, ready to collapse at the slightest breeze. Sam had constructed it himself, and with an armful of aluminium cans and glass bottles, he decorated it.

“Sam and I think you two need to start getting the hang of these,” Dean settled the huge gun, Lauren believed it was a rifle now, on the ground, and picked up a much smaller handgun.

“It’s not like you ever let us out of the car, to be honest.” Emmy mumbled.

Lauren nodded, “Exactly. And what are we supposed to shoot in there? Each other?”

Dean looked pensive, “I wonder who would win that one. Any bets?”

His brother returned to his side, long arm stretching in the direction of the finished shelves, targets placed intricately. “Ta-dah.” He looked proud of his creation. Now that he had returned, he slipped his hand behind his back and revealed a gun of similar size to Dean’s. Lauren recognised it, but she was sure if he had held another one the same colour next to it, she wouldn’t tell the difference.

“Alrighty-roo then. Listen up kids,” Dean began, attempting to ignore the sour looks on the girls’ faces. “Quit lookin’ at me like that. You need to learn at some point if you’re gonna follow us around like lost puppies.”

“I see myself as a lover not a fighter. Peace and all that,” Emmy shrugged, attempting to wiggle her way out of the situation.

Lauren took a leaf out of her book, “I have sensitive hearing.”

“My ass.” Dean seemed to tug at the gun, before it clicked. The girls jumped. He let out a small chuckle again.

“Dean’s right. We can’t protect you forever. What happens if we get dragged off and you have to fend for yourself? What do you do then?”

Dean nodded, “Exactly. Out here, if you can't hold a gun and shoot at a moving target, you’re useless."

“Gee thanks.” Emmy feigned offence, folding her arms in defiance. Lauren raised a hand to her eyes, blocking out the blinding sun.

“What if we’re terrible?” Lauren questioned, squinting at the gun in the eldest brother’s hands.

“You will be. It’s natural.” Dean responded, twirling his gun like it were nothing.

Sam sighed at his brother’s sugar-coating of the subject, “We’re not expecting bulls-eyes first time ‘round. We just need to know you know how to.”

Lauren nodded slowly, taking the brothers in. She had never shot a gun before, and as terrified as she was that she would cause herself some form of damage, the prospect of firing one excited her. “I suppose we could at least give it a go.”

“I’m going to shoot myself and die in the middle of nowhere.” Emmy told herself quietly, refusing to acknowledge the presence of the weapons.

Sam gestured his hand towards his brother, beckoning him to begin the lesson.

“Okie dokie.” He held the gun he gripped in his right hand in the air, admiring it as it glimmered in the sun. “This is a Colt 1911 A1. This baby’s got a .45 calibre. It’s semi-automatic. It—” Emmy and Lauren looked lost already. Dean sighed, “That means it reloads automatically, okay?” They nodded. “It’s as solid as a rock.” He held it in front of him, indicating for Emmy to take it. Reluctantly she stepped forward, carefully taking the thing between her forefinger and thumb like it was something they had dredged up from a sewer. She quickly fixed her grip, realising it was heavier than expected.

 She was amazed she wasn’t dead yet.

Sam spoke this time, “You can have this one. It’s semi-automatic, too. A Taurus. They’re pretty easy to hide, hence they come in handy...”  He handed it to her with a wink, stepping back and placing both hands in his pockets. Turning it over, she followed the patterns on the grip. The brothers watched for a second to see how the two would accustom themselves to the situation. Lauren felt a little better now it was in her hands and pointed away from her. Emmy just glared at the object.

“Brass.” Dean stated simply. It got their attention. Again, they looked lost. “Breathe, relax, aim, slack, squeeze. Brass…”

“Ooh, what’s this?” Emmy pointed to the back of the gun, poking at something she had found interesting. Lauren looked at the back of her own, intrigued as to what her friend was talking about.

“That’s the safety lock, don’t touch it yet.” Regarding Dean’s serious expression, and guessing the safety lock had something to do with why she hadn’t shot anything yet, Emmy pulled her exploring hand away, throwing Sam a shrug.

“Maybe we should tell them what’s what, first?” Sam suggested, turning to his brother. In return, Dean sighed. He had wanted to dive straight into the shooting things part. He had to remind himself the girls were beginners, and that he had once been in their shoes. With a second sigh, he nodded. It was gonna be a long day.