Dean and Sam walked into the abandoned house, guns in hand and their ears and eyes open for sounds or movements. So far nothing happened; the only sounds that filled the air were the soft thud of their boots hitting the floor, mixing with the sound of their breathing.
"Sam, come on, Bobby has been wrong before.." Dean muttered, coming to a stop in the open living room. He looked around; the windows were boarded, covered in graffiti and a sigh escaped his lips. Slipping his gun in the back of his jeans, Dean stopped Sam from walking any further, and shot him a glance.
"May--" Sam stopped, both he and Dean snapping around at the sound of a low, rough chuckle. In the dim light that crept through the cracks of the boards on the windows, the Winchesters could see a tall man dressed in a suit, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his slacks.
"Hello, boys." A thick British accent filled the room as the man took a step closer; the white in his eyes fading to pitch black before returning to normal a second later, a grin spreading across his face. Sam let out a soft growl, almost lunging at the damn demon standing on front of them, but Dean gripped his bicep tightly, holding him back.
"Who the hell are you?" The words came out with a harsh edge as Dean pulled Sam behind his own body, putting himself between the youngest man and the demon in front of them. Laughter filled the room, and the demon was gone, leaving Dean frustrated as he let go of Sam, only to hear a small scream of pain. When Dean turned, he saw Sam on the floor, curled into a ball, the demon standing at his side. Anger boiled through Dean's blood and he lunged forward, only to have his body slam against the wall, his back crashing roughly against the drywall.
"Eames, darling. Nice to meet you." Eames stepped over Sam's body, hand held slightly in the air, fingers curled slightly. "I must say, I've never met a pair of hunters," Eames snorted as the word left his mouth and stopped in front of Dean, eyes surveying him slowly, "that were so ill prepared as you two." Laughter filled Dean's ears as he struggled against the hold Eames had on him, groaning and tossing his head back and forth.
"I'll kill you," Dean groaned through grit teeth, listening to Eames click his tongue a few times, getting close enough to breathe against Dean's skin. "I swear to god, I will rip your fucking..." Eames curled his fingers quickly, making a fist just before Dean started gasping for breath, thrashing against the demon's hold.
"Yeah, you'll rip my heart out, I know. Do you know just how many times I've heard that in my life, darling?" Eames opened his hand only to close it again, twisting his wrist as his fingers curled into his palm. "I've been this way," he motioned to his body, from head to toe, "for more than a hundred years. I've encountered demon hunters, and people that think they can kill me. Do you know how many have tried?"
Eames let up on Dean, listening to him cough and choke on his own breath, his head falling back against the wall as he panted. Chuckling, Eames turned to Sam, kneeling in front of the young hunter, his free hand going to the kid's neck. "Too many, I'm afraid, and you two idiots.." Eames chuckled and shook his head, waving a hand dismissively, allowing Dean to fall to the ground with a loud thud.
"Well, it's been fun." Eames turned to Dean, who was struggling to get onto his feet, a smirk on his face. "I believe I'll be seeing you two soon, hm?" With the nod of a head, Eames was gone; leaving the hunters laying on the floor, Dean coughing loudly as he crawled over to Sam, shaking him lightly. Sam turned onto his back, groaning lightly as his eyes snapped opening, falling on Dean's.
"For once," Sam coughed out a laugh as he pushed himself into a sitting position, "can we get an American demon that doesn't wear suits?" Lifting a hand, Sam rubbing it against the back of his neck, listening to Dean call him a bitch and smiled, muttering, "Jerk."
