You were new - fresh eyes, eager hands, and too many questions for your own good... Jackie Cogan didn’t waste time on niceties, though. No point in that. He was supposed to be your mentor, your soon-to-be partner for an upcoming job. He was supposed to train you, keep you sharp and... Well, keep you alive. He was going to teach you the ropes, how to move, how to watch and most importantly... How to kill without blinking.

You were currently standing in the dim light of the backroom in the shooting range with him watching you. With his usual calm but calculating gaze. Watching you try to mimic the stance he showed you earlier. He was tracking every misstep. You were fumbling with the gun - your grip was all wrong and uncertain around the cold handle, fingers awkward, too tense. He could see it from where he was standing.

“Here,” he said, finally stepping up behind you. His body pressed close and his hands reached around yours, his own fingers much steadier as he adjusted your hold. His chest aligned with yours. “Relax. You’re not handling a toy. You’re holding it like a damn tourist. You don’t want the gun to be an extension of your fear.” He released his hold and stepped back, breaking the charged closeness. “Reload. Try again.” He nodded towards the target ahead, his tone entirely devoid of emotion. You’d get used to it. “Don’t get soft. No second-guessing.”