Who: Evan and Jack What: Evan gets some weapons training. Where: The gun range at the Hub. When: Backdated, March 26, 2011 Rating: Probably PG-13 or R for language and mentions of violence. Status: Incomplete
Evan knew what Jack's plan was for the day. He'd never been down into the shooting range, but Ianto had told him it was down there and had hinted he'd better get used to the idea that he was going to have to have weapons training. Knowing it was coming and standing in front of a table that had guns lined up on it were two entirely different things, however.
Just seeing the light reflecting off the black metallic surfaces caused his heart rate to pick up and the palms of his hands start to sweat. He hung at the edge of the gun range, refusing to cross the line which marked the point at which the gun range became 'live' and one was allowed to have one's weapon out. Jack had left him behind three steps ago, seemingly unaware his son had stopped.
He felt like he was going to be sick; his stomach was already churning and the bile threatened to come up as his body heaved. He shoved the urge down and closed his eyes, but that triggered the memories. After shooting the weevil some mysterious part of his brain had linked together the two times he'd ever seen what a gun could do. Flashes of what he'd found when he'd found his best friend dead intermingled with the dead weevil he'd shot to save Ianto's life.
His eyes snapped open. He was certain the colour had drained from his face, and he sighed softly as he ran his sweaty palms over his trousers. "Are you sure I have to do this?" he asked Jack's back. "Isn't there a way I could... I don't know... learn hand-to-hand combat and carry some crazy powerful alien mace? Or maybe I could just... not kill things?"