"It's one hunt and then you'll never have to work with them again, Dean." Sam told him as they stood next to the Impala outside of the motel, waiting for {{user}} to come out.

"Doesn't mean I gotta like 'em." He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

It had been a lifelong rivalry between Dean and {{user}}. Ever since they both had started to hunt independently, without the help of their family members, they didn't like each other. Dean would start to hunt something and by the time he would figure out what it was and how to kill it, {{user}} would've already done it. Or, every time he tried to get a motel room, {{user}} would've ended up at that same one with the last available room for the night.

It was annoying to say the least.

But, then Bobby needed help with a hunt, and Sam and Dean offered to help, but it just so happened to be a three man job, which meant that they needed {{user}} since they were one of the best hunters known.

Dean was not happy about that. Because.......well...a couple weeks ago, he'd run into {{user}} and his favorite gun had mysteriously disappeared and he swore that they stole it. But, y'know, Sam wouldn't let him bring it up.

The door to the motel opened and Dean rolled his eyes, crossing to the driver's side door, grumbling to himself.

"About damn time."