Word Count: 100
Set during S3, no spoilers.
Everybody has one...
Dean was prepared to confront virtually all things supernatural; hell, they both were. Whether the fugly was one of the old familiar type, or whether it was something completely new on their radar. Both hunters knew their job. They did their research, had each other's back, had the weaponry. This hunt was no different, except they couldn't confirm the identity of their prey. Still, people were dying, so they headed out.
It was Sam who ganked the thing, who kept his cool, stepping in front of his frozen brother, taking it down as it charged...Hell Hound...Dean wasn't prepared for that.