Scratch.

Scratch.

Sam woke up. There was no mistaking it. Something was scratching at the door.

Scratch.

"Dean."

Scratch.

Alright, no need for panic. It couldn't get in – all the usual protections were in place.

"Dean!"

Sam switched on the lamp. Dean's bed was empty.

Rubbing his eyes, he shuffled to the door.

"Dammit Dean, how dr…"

As he opened the door a screeching ball of claws flew at him, just as Dean emerged from the bathroom.

Dean grabbed his knife and sunk it into the beast.

Sam rolled away, face scratched and bleeding.

"Sam. Why'd ya open the door?"