likedillinger | sixwordstories : I want you to hit me as hard as you can.

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Current Location: Some shitty alley, & then Applebee's
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sixwordstories : I want you to hit me as hard as you can.

Who: Dean and Sylar (

intuitivelyapt )
What: Dean and Sylar have a lot of manly issues to work out in a manly matter. So they kick the shit out of each other. It's how real men resolve things.
When: Thursday night. Immediately following this.
Where: NYC, an alley behind a bar.
Verse: Brave New World

If Sylar didn't have a clear idea of how pissed off Dean was from the way he banged the back door of the bar open hard enough to send it crashing against the wall, then he might have gotten a hint when he ignored Sylar's verbal jab and marched in silence down the steps.

He ran a hand over his face, taking a few paces down the dingy alley way. Something moved inside a dumpster, and he heard a cat rrowing. In the distance, there was the muted noise of traffic, and street bustle. Everything else in the world just moving along, all hunky dory, even if a couple days ago there were giant rocks of fire that killed people, destroyed property, wrecked cars. The city didn't seem to give a shit. It was like New York was daring the Apocalypse to try and touch it.

Dean had no doubt that if they didn't act soon enough, the Apocalypse was the one who'd win that game of chicken.

The city seemed just as oblivious now, to the fact that this guy who'd killed several innocent girls off the streets was just walking free. That he was rooming with the demon who'd screwed over him and Sam royally.

New York didn't care.

But he sure as hell did.

He turned back to face Sylar, fixing him with a baleful glare.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't kick your ass all the way back to the Company myself, right now."

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There aren't words to express the look Sylar gave him. Sure, he was used to things he once considered fictional to have some foundation in reality at this point, but...

seriously?

"... You mean an owl?" He felt the need to reiterate what Dean had just said, in case he suffered from some kind of aneurysm that made him hallucinate the words. "An owl has been trying to get to you to go to Hogwarts."

"That's what I said, isn't it?" Dean asked. "That thing's been pesterin' me for months with letters. Maybe it'll stop now that I'm finally goin' there for somethin'." Of course, Hedwig had saved his life that one time, but he wasn't about to mention that he'd ever had to have his life saved by an owl.

And he definitely wasn't bring up his other experience with her. :| Ever.

He slowly raised an eyebrow, and decided to eat some more buffalo wings before weighing in again. He needed food to brace himself for this conversation.

"I'm pretty sure that makes you some kind of wizard or something." Which was a whole new level of fucked up that Sylar didn't even want to touch.

Dean's buffalo wing stopped half way to his mouth, before he shot Sylar a 'how stupid are you?' gaze.

"The bird wanted me to save Harry Potter, not be a freaking wizard."

At least he was pretty sure of that. Now you have planted seeds of doubt, Sylar.

"That's not why they give people letters--"

He stopped himself. Was he really arguing with Dean over something he saw in some dumb kids movies? Was this what his life had become? No. No, he wasn't letting this progress any further.

Buffalo wings sure were good.

Yeah, they were. Dean finished his, trying to suppress weird-ass thoughts about how he would handle it if he turned out to be a secret wizard. He'd probably kick something's ass.

"Either way, if they've got magic, Sammy and I know how to protect ourselves against that kinda thing."

Sylar was done with his buffalo wings, and decided to focus on fiddling with his napkin instead. Wasn't Dean... too old to be a wizard anyway? There had to be some kind of law against that.

"I'd hate to see you get your ass kicked by some twelve year old."

"I'm sure even wizards aren't immune to bullets." Yeah, Dean just implied he would... shoot a kid. He's a really good person. What do you want from him.

But thinking about an army of little wizard shits did give him some pause.

Aw, what the hell.

"You wanna come?"

Sylar just shrugged. What? Did you think he was going to tell Dean it was wrong to shoot a kid? Don't be silly. He glared at someone the next table over who was giving them looks. Bro needed to learn not to eavesdrop.

He tilted his head at Dean's request. That was unexpected, to say the least. "Wh-- you want me to?"

Luckily their food arrived at exactly that moment before Sylar could make Dean's question seem too touchy feely. Having manly chow in front of them and a moment in between helped to clear the air of that particular atmosphere. Dean smiled at the waitress, and waited til she was gone to pick up his burger and respond with a shrug.

"If they've got powers, it'd only be fair for us to have some on our side." Hell if he was gonna just say he wanted Sylar along.

He started digging into his chicken immediately. He was really hungry, okay. So much so that it takes him a few mouthfuls before he can get around to replying to Dean.

"I guess I could." He left it at that. He didn't want to sound overly enthusiastic or anything.

But it was nice to be wanted.

Heaven forbid either one of them show emotions. Other than hunger. Hunger is an emotion. For guys like them.

"I mean I'd hate to cut into your busy 'spending time with Ruby' schedule," Dean said, but the animosity in his tone was obviously all aimed towards her, and... almost joking. Almost. He still wanted to shank that dumb bitch. "But if you want." Shrug.

Hunger was totally a valid emotion. At least, as far as Dean and Sylar were concerned.

Dean got a sour expression for that. It wasn't that he wanted to spend all that time with Ruby, it was just unavoidable with his situation being what it was. "I can." He shrugged, and tried to act a lot more nonchalant about it than he really felt.

"It's settled then," he said, taking a big bite of burger and chewing thoughtfully on it. Man, he was starving. Alley fights'll do that to you.

"Plus, they're just kids right? How much harm can they do?" he asked, between chomps. So many manners.

They will. Sylar, on the other hand, is very determined to make his chicken nothing more than a distant memory.

"More than you think," he managed out in the midst of all his eating. "Watch the movies. They have some kind of instant-kill spell." Wouldn't it be nice to be able to use that on a few choice people...

"Huh. And here I thought kids didn't learn anything useful in school." Dean considered Sylar's words - maybe a movie marathon would be a good investment of his time before heading out. Hopefully there were some hot chicks in it.

"Magic school is different." He didn't know when he suddenly became the Harry Potter aficionado, but compared to Dean he certainly felt that way.

"They have flying cars, too. Maybe you can get the Impala an upgrade."

"Yeah, no. Nobody's touchin' my baby. They can keep their grimy little wizard hands to themselves." Because the last thing Dean ever wanted for his vehicle to become airborne. It was his place of comfort. Not his most paralyzing fear. :|

"If there's no hitch, we should be headin' out as soon as Sam gets his ass back here."

"You wouldn't have to use a plane then." His smirk was dampened by all the food he was stuffing his face with. He just liked giving Dean a hard time, okay.

"Yeah? And when do you think that's gonna be?"

"Not sure," he grudgingly admitted. "He's caught up in the Malibu thing, and he's probably say his mooshy good-byes to Claire." He meant good-bye in the short term sense but the sentence gave him pause and he crammed some more fries in his mouth to avoid thinking about it.

"It's gonna be awhile, then." He took a long swig of his coke and gave Dean a look that said everything he expected out of Sam and Claire without actually saying it out loud.

No, he wasn't thinking about the long-term sense. It wasn't going to happen. And the less they even allowed it to be an option in their minds, the better.

"Yeah, well it better not be too long or there won't be much of a world left to save," Dean said flippantly. "I think he's stretching this job out so he can see her longer. He's just gonna make it harder on himself."

"Sometimes I wonder if it all really matters to him." Sylar tilted his head to one side, thoughtful. It was pretty hard to deny that Sam and Claire tended to wear blinders to the rest of the world whenever they were in the presence of each other. "You should probably... talk to him. Or something."

Dean had had the same thoughts but hearing them out loud was a different matter. He gazed out over the heads of the other patrons, not meeting Sylar's eyes. "Not sure it'd do a load of good anyway. His favorite hobby's not listenin' to me."

He shrugged, pushing his now empty plate away from himself. "Is there anyone he does listen to? Besides maybe Claire, I mean." He felt it went without saying that he wasn't on the short list of Sam's confidantes.

sixwordstories : I want you to hit me as hard as you can.

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