Dean Winchester stood behind you, his hands firmly resting on your shoulders. The weight of the rifle in your hands felt unfamiliar, and you could feel the tension building in your arms.

"Remember," Dean said, his voice gruff but calm,

"aim for the center of the target, right between the eyes. Take a deep breath, and hold your aim steady." With those instructions, he leaned in slightly, his chin brushing against your hair as he adjusted your aim. The subtle touch sent a chill down your spine, but you steadied yourself, focusing on the target in front of you.

"Ready?" Dean asked, his voice a low rumble next to your ear. You nodded, took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger. The recoil was stronger than you anticipated, and you stumbled back slightly as the shot rang out. Dean steadied you with his hands on your arms, holding you against his chest for a moment longer than necessary.