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

Current Mood: testosterone-fueled
Current Location: Some shitty alley, & then Applebee's
Current Music: Saturday Night's Alright (For Fighting) - Nickelback

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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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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.

"Gandhi?"

He shoved some more fries down the hatch, and washed it all down with the remainder of his beer. Whether it would work or not, he'd at least have to yell at Sam to get his ass back here.

"Get me his toothbrush and I'll see what I can do." His tone was dry and biting. He called the waitress over for a refill on his coke. Despitr his words, he had no plans to shapeshift into Ghandi. Dean was on his own there.

"As entertaining as that would be," Dean commented, "he might just think you were some freak pagan god. Trust me. It wouldn't end pretty for anybody."

He yanked out his wallet, to dig out some bills to cover his meal. His. :|

He shrugged, but didn't push the matter. Because he didn't actually care.

Since he can count, he's disappointed to see... Dean isn't covering him. Begrudgingly, he digs into his pocket for the other half of the bill. All he has is... money that was in the apartment whenever Ruby killed all those people. It's a hard life.

Despite rumors to the contrary, Dean can count too. He just sighs, and then flips an extra ten down. You dick.

He pushes out of the booth and to his feet. "I should get back to the hotel."

"Yeah, I should... get back too." To his den of sin with Ruby. It sucked, but it was better than a garbage can, he guessed.

And it wasn't like he had anywhere else to go.

"Uh... thanks."

"For beating you up? Hey, dude. Any time." He chuckled, but the whole thing... wasn't very funny. Especially not when he worried Sylar was going back to see Ruby again and this was just going nowhere good, fast.

"Just... get her off your tail as fast as you can," he advised. He didn't really feel like saying her name, and he knew Sylar would get the message anyway.

" ... I meant dinner." Even though he did mean beating up, too. But Dean didn't need to know that, either. He also chuckled dryly, appreciating the... total lack of humor in their lives.

He gave Dean a short nod. "I'm working on it." But it was harder in practice than it was in theory, especially when Ruby seemed intent on digging her harpy claws into him as deeply as she could. But he kept that detail to himself.

"Hey, you're payin' me back for dinner sometime."

'Working on it' didn't sound like much of a promise to him, and he had a feeling he'd be monitoring this situation one way or another. Just great. Like he didn't have enough to deal with. He headed for the door, nodding at the waitress, and earning a flirtatious little smile from her.

That reminded him of something - that he was supposed to go over to Liz's. Like... probably hours ago.

Crap.

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

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