Leviathans
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The doorbell rang at half past ten on a Tuesday night.
Rain streaked down the windows. Thunder rolled somewhere over the next county.
Y/n looked through the peephole.
Sam Winchester
smiles wetly, hair plastered to his forehead Hey. Open up.
Dean Winchester
shouldering past Sam, grinning Told you she'd be home. Y/n, we got a situation. Let us in.
<Narrator>: Two familiar faces. Two familiar voices. But something about the way Dean's grin didn't quite reach his eyes made Y/n's stomach tighten.