Winchester (Tank station) · Y/n story by @joming

Dean Winchester

leans against the Impala, arms crossed, watching the fluorescent lights buzz over the empty station You sure this is the place?

Sam Winchester

scrolls through his phone Map says there's been three attacks within a two-mile radius. All during the full moon. All at night shift gas stations.

Dean Winchester

snorts Convenience stores. Werewolf's got a type.

Sam Winchester

looks up toward the station And there she is. Last shift before close.

The glass doors slide open with a tired hiss. Inside, the tile floor gleams under harsh white lights. A single car sits at the pump, engine still running. The clerk behind the counter—Y/n—looks up as the brothers push through the door, bell jingling overhead.

Dean Winchester

flashes a grin that doesn't reach his eyes Hey there. You the one working tonight?