Livid, Dean glares at the other and for a split-second he's gone - GONE - re-appearing behind the hunter. He feels the sudden dread of being caught off-guard, similar to taking a step down some stairs and missing one, stomach dropping.
"Fuc-"
He can hardly get the curse out of his mouth before a well-place foot jabs him in the lower back and he stumbles to the ground on his hands and knees, left palm digging into the sharp remains of his EMF. The metal cuts deep and Dean can smell the coppery tang of blood.
"Sonuvabitch!"
Back still screaming in protest, Dean rolls over and fumbles for his gun, gritting his teeth and cocking it. He takes aim at the fucker's shoulder and pulls the trigger.
[Action]
"Fuc-"
He can hardly get the curse out of his mouth before a well-place foot jabs him in the lower back and he stumbles to the ground on his hands and knees, left palm digging into the sharp remains of his EMF. The metal cuts deep and Dean can smell the coppery tang of blood.
"Sonuvabitch!"
Back still screaming in protest, Dean rolls over and fumbles for his gun, gritting his teeth and cocking it. He takes aim at the fucker's shoulder and pulls the trigger.