Damn your eyes // Dean & Sam

A pair of men sat down dressed similarly to himself and Isaac realized he recognized them. Doing a double take he hastily wiped the trail from his cheek. As the young woman stepped down from the stage to raucous applause to enjoy the multitude of free drinks, Isaac attempted to compose himself. The bartender poured him another double and with a bit of hesitation he looked towards the two men again.

Sam and Dean Winchester. He had never met them before but there'd been a big stink a while back about a killer named Dean Winchester, but the local hunters whispered about shifters and things weren't exactly as they seemed. Through the years he'd heard even bigger stories about them, about how they had saved the world from the Apocalypse though all Isaac ever knew about that was there were a shit ton of omens all over the place. That was also the first time he'd ever met a Hellhound and never again did he want to meet one of those. Far too many of his scars had resulted from just that single encounter alone. 

Isaac almost felt... starstruck. Here he was, a simple musician who fought creepy crawlies in his spare time, and all of a sudden seated next to him was the dynamic duo. It would have been easier to process if Ivan Moody or Tim McIlrath had just sat down next to him. These two, by the reports and word of mouth, had saved the whole god damned world somehow, and Winchester had already been a commonplace name to him through his travels.

"Sam and Dean?" he asked finally, loud enough to heard over the shitty showtunes. Normally nerves weren't an issue for Isaac but he felt himself nearly jittery as the words tumbled from his mouth. Did he really just try to talk to them? He had no idea if they were the friendly sort. For all he knew Dean was about to punch him in the face so Sam could hold him down and the two of them would steal his money and leave for their next great adventure.

... You are half insane, you know that right? Who even thinks that sort of shit, Isaac thought to himself.

Admittedly, their reactions weren't what he was expecting, exaggerated or otherwise. Dean looked as though he were considering Isaac as a target, and Sam looked more stunned than ready to gun him down. After a tense moment Sam finally spoke to him.

Holy shit it's them. Holy shit, holy shiii-

"My name is Isaac. Isaac Cooper. I uh..." he paused, glancing about briefly before turning his gaze back to Sam. "I hunt, like you guys." Isaac was realizing he was a lot smoother with the lady-folk that two incredibly distinguished hunters who were suspicious of him. As the showtunes faded into Disney songs and Dean's face melted into something Isaac wanted to describe as somewhere between pure torture and total meltdown, Isaac felt his begin to droop as well.

"Sorry to bother you, it's just so unreal to suddenly see the two of you sitting next to me in some podunk karaoke bar... Listening to Disney..." he added quickly, scrunching his face towards the end.

Isaac watched in stunned silence as Dean pulled out a fifty and slapped it to the bar, almost as stunned as the bartender. How in the hell were they able to be so cavalier about their spending? Sure Isaac loved to drop a bit of cash on drink himself but that was a sobering amount of money the elder Winchester just ponied up for a simple scotch.

"Job? No, just here to.." he paused, looking down into the double, pondering what to say for a moment. "Here to try and forget some unforgettable things," he concluded cryptically, but the sad, pursed smile hoped to put to rest any doubts of foul play. Taking the shot at last, Isaac looked to Sam and noticed the rather drawn expression. Looking back from Dean to Sam to Dean to Sam again, Isaac cocked his head.

"Something wrong?... Look if I'm upsetting you..." he said holding up his hands, yielding. Something seemed off, not that he really knew what was 'off' for this pair. For all he knew Dean looking ready to gut him and Sam looking like he'd seen a ghost was all part of a healthy breakfast.

When Sam didn't answer the second time, Isaac's jaw dropped a hair with a completely incredulous expression that a smile began to tug at as Sam came to on the third shout. The stories certainly didn't suggest that the big fella was half-deaf, or half... something not entirely politically correct. But, that wasn't it. Something looked like it was eating at him. Isaac knew that expression all too well, it was the one that peered back achingly at him in the mirror.

"Yeah, tired... I get that..." Isaac said, composing himself slowly, still looking rather confused. For the tough, badass Winchesters he'd heard so much about, this was a strange sight to behold. It didn't quite sit right with Isaac that Dean had to go all Archer on Sam but Isaac wasn't about to question it. Instead he took the cue from Dean and ordered another drink, though the bartender looked less than thrilled to get a hair more than what was actually owed. When he slipped away, Isaac looked back up from his shot.

"The hell are you guys doing for cash? I would've had to skip town two glasses ago if I were trying to keep pace with you," Isaac said quietly so other patrons and the absent barkeep couldn't eavesdrop. Still confused, Isaac wondered what on earth these guys were doing that they could flaunt that kind of cash. Isaac only had his shows, and it wasn't like he was Justin Bieber or something, he actually had to work his tail off to get in the front door let alone play for anything other than tips. It was easier around the Western region since he grew up in Cali but in places unknown he was lucky to score a bottle of water.

At least it seemed like they were going to tolerate his company. For now.

"Ah, you're one of them," he said with a small chuckle has he up ended his shot. Dean wasn't the only one who knew how to hold their liquor. Whether he was proud of that or not remained to be seen but he was leaning towards the 'no' side. Isaac could only guess what Dean truly meant, and he realized after the fact that it was a bit more personal than new acquaintances should share. Isaac unfortunately already felt like he knew them by what he'd heard but clearly that wasn't actually knowing a person. He would have to make up for that somehow.

He wished he could do what they did, regarding money. Isaac assumed it wasn't strictly legal or legal at all. Probably hustlers and thieves, not that he held it against them, it simply wasn't his style. Other hunters he'd come into contact with were fond of credit card theft and usually rationalized it as being payment for their services, for protecting them from the creepy crawlies they didn't know existed. Isaac just felt... bad about it. Not that he would admit it out loud, he didn't need the Winchesters saying he was too soft for this shit or something.

"Five years to the day," he said, unintentionally a little thick, something he tried to cover up with a small cough and signaling the bartender just as Dean upended his glass to call it done. As the music shifted yet again, Dean put his foot down and decided it was time to go. He hadn't really been directing the comment to Sam, but he certainly wasn't looking at Isaac when he said it. Did Dean mean for the three of them to step out and talk more or was Dean done playing with the rookie hunter?

Sure, five years wasn't much but it was nothing to spit on either. Isaac had seen and accomplished a great deal in such a short time, especially considering his crash course in hunting was with some of the deadliest prey of all; Demons.

"Ah, well, best of luck to you two," Isaac said extending his right hand to whomever decided to grab it first. He thought it would be better to play it safe and give them the opportunity to decide whether they wanted him to tag along or whether Dean was actually wanting to escape the rookie.