Sep 27, 2009 09:39
That had been a very frustrating shower. For many reasons. At least Raine was going to at least look at Forte. Hopefully, she'll actually heal him. The showers had also succeeded in making the ninja feel like a pervert. A mild one, but still... It was as if Yukari had picked that spot in the showers because she knew the ninja could easily see
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kirk,
klavier,
tenzen,
anise,
rude,
teisel,
kuukaku,
impulse,
indiana jones,
raz,
forte,
utena,
asch,
euphemia,
suzaku,
rey,
taura,
franziska,
peter parker,
luxord,
artemis,
lunge,
shinichi,
raphael,
kanji,
brainiac 5,
the flash,
albedo,
subzero,
heiji,
peter petrelli,
two-face,
yuffie,
ritsuka,
fox,
edgar,
the scarecrow,
sync,
zoro,
okita,
daphne,
touya,
lockdown,
scourge,
tyki,
spock,
kratos,
nathan petrelli,
l,
haseo,
sechs,
tony stark,
kenshin,
endrance,
senna,
haine,
dias,
dick grayson,
dahlia,
gumshoe,
hanatarou,
sora,
jason,
alex delarge,
reinforce,
renamon,
keman,
alkaid,
joshua,
shikamaru,
dean winchester,
brook,
pied piper,
tim drake,
von karma,
hanekoma,
guy,
alfred,
venom,
abe sapien,
nigredo,
depth charge,
kibitoshin,
souji seta,
wesker,
lelouch,
jun,
chise,
yomi,
sylar,
captain america,
rolo,
schuldig,
sasuke,
yue,
sheena,
aidou,
kaworu,
beatrix,
falis,
statesman,
scar (tlk),
setsuna,
loz
Automatically checking out the cafeteria for any sign of his brother, Dean picked a table that was relatively close to the lunch line, enough Sam could pick him out, and sat down with the tray before him. The hunter took a big bite of his hot dog, piled high with onions and ketchup. Closed his eyes as he chewed. Man, he was getting so friggen spoiled on the food here. It was way better than 7-11. It was one of the best hot dogs he'd ever had. Dean choose that moment as his moment of zen.
No deal. No seeing Sammy dead on the floor.
Just the hot dog and him.
Dean savored the hot dog. Okay, so he could eat whatever he wanted, but that didn't mean he was gonna inhale it like he was starving. The hunter took another bite and it was just as good as the first. Even better when he got a big old gob of relish on this one.
Yeah, going back to their usual of fast food and hole-in-the-wall burgers where you hoped that fly hadn't already landed on it was gonna be hard. Dean kept his eyes closed as he focused on just enjoying his lunch, reaching up with his thumb to brush off a bit of ketchup from the corner of his mouth and licking it off before continuing to eat.
[For Sylar. Don't mind Dean's food porn]
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It was much better than nothing.
Either way, the short conversation had allowed Sylar some extra time to relax, or at least let his mind wander until his gaze fell on the mass of papers that comprised the bulletin board.
Right. He'd been meaning to check that.
He wasn't so crippled that he wasn't able to get back in his wheelchair on his own, but he was injured enough that a nurse had to roll him over in the thing. Though degrading, he felt more neutral toward the help now than he had before, and he tried to focus his attention on the bulletin board rather than his own weakness. He left a note for Faize - hopefully, the kid wouldn't be busy saving people this Nightshift, since Sylar didn't see himself doing much of anything - and then checked for any important updates.
And important updates he did find, even at the bottom of the board.
He grit his teeth by the end of it, nearly crumpling the paper he was reading.
So. Tyki hadn't beaten him. Not really.
He settled morosely down in the chair and let the nurse wheel him into the cafeteria when the next announcement came on.
No, it'd all been this place again, this place and its... its games. It looked like a whole damn bunch of people had experienced the death of a loved one last night and woken up without the wounds; apparently, Sylar was the only unlucky son of a bitch who'd been in the middle of mortal combat when the effects had spread across the Institute.
"Dammit!" he found himself muttering under his breath as they entered through the cafeteria doors. His nurse clicked her tongue and once again lamented how "Zach" had been such a good patient up until this point.
Sylar didn't respond, not even when she wheeled him to a table across from some gluttonous man scarfing down a giant hot dog.
The nurse left to grab Sylar some food. Sylar continued to stare at the man, blankly. Finally, in a deadpan, he said: "Glad to see someone's enjoying their day."
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By now he'd polished off the hot dog, leisurely licking his fingers as he took in the other patient. Doom-and-Gloom looked like he'd run headfirst into Mike Tyson, all holed up in a wheelchair and not looking at all jazzed about the free (good) food they had here. Dean supposed there wasn't a lot to be jazzed about in the first place, considering where they were and what happened last night, but then again, that was precisely why he was gonna enjoy what he had to admit was a pretty good lunch and not let it get to him.
Maybe it was too late for that, but he told himself this was just how it was gonna be and that was that. He wasn't gonna be able to function if he just stewed in the corner like a little bitch and wrote emo poetry.
Dean picked up the hamburger, bursting with probably too many toppings, the thick patty dripping with juice as he peered over it at Doom-and-Gloom. A few drops of juice and secret sauce dripped onto his plate as he picked a loose onion about to fall out and popped it into his mouth. God, this was heaven for a guy used to gas stations and truck stops. Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes, part out of just it being that delicious, part out of an urge to do it to piss off Perky, if only just barely. The sliced onions were that perfect mix between crunchy and cooked just enough to get a different taste, so it wasn't like eating it raw. Was that a hint of pepper?
Dean picked another one out, and then had to go for a fresh tomato slice when it almost tumbled onto his plate.
Seriously, best hamburger ever. Like a friggen food orgasm in his mouth.
Without even thinking about it, he ran his tongue over his mouth, licking away the stray tomato seed and not caring if it was Sammy across from him getting grossed out or some random patient trying to rain on his parade.
"Way I see it, if they're gonna feed us, I say we might as well just eat up. Better than starving."
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Not that Sylar was in much of a state to be scarfing down food, with his chest cut all over and his cheek burnt deeply on one side. Instead, he gingerly picked up a fry and chewed on it as his eyes stayed fixed on the other man, even as he began to talk through a mouthful of beef and lettuce.
"Way I see it, if they're gonna feed us, I say we might as well just eat up. Better than starving."
Sylar's eyes moved from the man to slowly wander over the rest of the room, stopping on one or two patients as he imagined just what kind of power they had for him to take.
"Yeah," he said, slowly. He smiled as he looked back to the other man. "Yeah, I do agree with that."
After a pause, he chuckled, as if embarrassed. "Sorry for earlier. Bad night." He raised a fry as if in an amiable gesture; he figured this guy would appreciate it more than a handshake, given the way he was acting. "I'm-"
He hesitated. His smile turned into something more like a wry smirk.
"I'm Gabriel."
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"Brian Johnson," Dean said after he swallowed and took a swig of his water, wished again it was Coke or something with actual taste. Y'know, something that could actually give him a cavity. He ran his tongue over his teeth, making sure he didn't have anything too big stuck before continuing, "And no kidding about last night."
Dean's smile became a little forced for a second. He hadn't even gotten touched last night - really one of the rare times, considering this place's track record - but it'd been one of the worst nights he'd had here. Dean could've done without the stupid trips and seeing his brother dying all over again; he would've rather he got tagged by a monster instead of these mind-games, especially, and he refused to admit this to Sam, especially when they might just be working. Dean didn't think he could spook easily when it was his job to hunt spooks. But you'd have to be some kinda sociopath to take everything about this place in a stride, hunter or no hunter.
Everyone had a coping mechanism. Spock had his little one-man Star Trek geekfest, Ron had his weirdo Star Wars rip-off backstory. Dean? He'd take his comfort food any day, thanks (beer would be nice), and he certainly wasn't gonna go pouring his heart out to some random dude. Maybe that was all fine for Sammy, but he'd always felt like talking about it just made it worse.
Dean's smile strengthened as he took another big bite, ignored the napkin and just used his fingers to wipe away the sauce. Napkins would just ruin the experience of the Most Awesome Hamburger Ever. 'Sides, why waste it on the napkin when he could just lick it off and not bother with the middle man?
Like just about every patient here, Gabe looked like crap. Dean himself had run into his share of trouble - hell, he'd just got that patch removed from over his eye only recently, and he was still trying to cover up the limp from that night in town - but he hadn't ever been stuck in a wheelchair (thank God). Dean wondered if he'd been in one before or if this was from last night. Problem with wheelchairs was you couldn't exactly get too far in one, stairs were impossible and trying to outrun a monster was a joke. Although staying in your room might've been the smartest thing anyone could do in this place, Dean guessed.
"Don't suppose you know how you got here?" Dean suddenly changed the subject. He probably already knew the answer, but he asked anyway.
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Of course, Sylar wasn't "most people," and his eyes followed Brian a little more closely as they continued the conversation. Concealment usually meant something interesting; something interesting usually meant something abnormal; something abnormal could mean some kind of ability. Or just that someone was dangerous. But right now, Brian seemed none the wiser about Sylar's true nature, so why not test the waters? He needed to get his mind moving forward instead of staying stuck in a rut and erratically speeding in reverse.
"Got here?" he echoed faintly at Brian's question. Either the guy was new - probably not, given the way he'd been talking about this place so far - or he was fishing for information the same way that Sylar was. The fact that he was being fairly vague was also another sign of that: getting someone to ask questions was often more useful than listening to their answers.
Not that Sylar had any intention of giving himself away so quickly. He chuckled a little, nearly self-depracatingly, as he motioned at the room, then the wheelchair.
"You mean this or this?"
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"Both," Dean said. By now he was halfway through the hamburger, and was further surprised when he found an avocado in there. It practically melted in his mouth this time, Dean's eyes briefly closing as he decided that if there was a God, he had to have invented hamburgers this good. Dean would give him that. Maybe it was last night, maybe it was just how godly this hamburger was, but he wasn't even getting full from it. Dean eyed the fries on Gabe's plate.
If it was Sammy sitting across from him, they would've been gone already 'cause he'd have been helping himself to them by now.
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With a sigh, he ran his good hand through his hair. At least his head hadn't gotten knocked around last night.
"I don't know any more than anyone else you've probably talked to," he said, hating that it wasn't a lie. He shook his head. "I was in the middle of-" falling through a glass wall "-my normal life, when..."
He let himself trail off, figuring that Brian could fill in the blanks. He looked back up at the man and patted the armrest of his wheelchair.
"As for this thing, I ran into some trouble last night. Monsters," he added, as a qualifier. He didn't need the guy prying into that of all things. After a pause and a glance over Brian's own wounds, he added: "Doesn't look like you've done too well either."
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There was something off about Gabe though, and it was while he was talking that Dean realized what it was. The guy looked and sounded exactly like Spock...except for the part where one, he was missing the bowlcut, two, he'd magically fixed his ears, and three, it didn't explain the different injuries. Did the guy have a twin? One who geeked out for the both of them? Judging by the testy way Gabe had started off the morning, Dean had a hunch that flashing him the Vulcan salute might not fly by as well with him as it did with his twin.
Dean snorted, holding up one of busted hands. "I don't even know how I got these. They said I was sleeping-walking; last time it was a bad reaction to medication," yeah, he didn't believe it either. Dean paused. Okay, he had to ask, this was just bugging him. "Hey, you got a twin or something around here? Has a really geeky bowl-cut?"
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While thinking this, Sylar managed to precariously pick up his burger and bring it to his mouth with one hand. He was about to take a bite when Brian asked his question.
He felt his body grow still, and cold. His brow twitched, causing him to wince from the pain.
"Not my twin," he finally said, stiffly. He slowly looked up at Brian and forced a very strained smile. "Just a... really weird coincidence."
He'd almost forgotten about Spock for the time being. Not that ignorance was bliss, but it could be a hell of a lot less annoying.
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"Weird coincidence" was one way of putting it, if you even believed in that sorta thing. Not that he thought it was fate or destiny or some crap like that, but running into someone who looked pretty much exactly like you? Wasn't random. Obviously Gabe had run into Spock, and he didn't think it was as awesome as Dean had.
"Guessin' you ran into him then too," Dean said, looking down to sop up some ketchup with his french fries.
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At least Brian hadn't questioned his answer, which meant he was probably already familiar with all the weirdo multidimensionality that this place had to offer. Sylar narrowed his eyes, wondering if he'd ever heard of an identical sci-fi twin showing up out of nowhere.
Or, if Brian had already encountered Spock, maybe he knew something about him that Sylar didn't. Maybe, with Sylar's handicap against his doppelganger, it'd be best to get as prepared as possible before dinner tonight - assuming, of course, that Spock hadn't vanished like everyone else he'd roomed with.
"About him..." he added slowly to his previous words, "what kind of impression did you get? I mean-" he frowned and put the burger back down; he wasn't even hungry anymore, and instead put his energy in looking confused "-does he really think he's... you know?"
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He coughed - snorting up apple juice into your nose was one of those things that just left a hell of a funky aftertaste - and grabbed a napkin, wiping the juice off as he raised an eyebrow at Gabe.
"Crazy odds there getting shacked up with Spock."
Dean was busy pretending like he was mopping up the juice splatters on the table, barely tickling them with the napkin, when Gabe honestly asked him if he thought his roomie really was Spock. Dean looked up, glad he wasn't drinking anything 'cause it would've just gone up his nose a second time around, and he couldn't help the half-grin from tugging at the corners of his mouth. Setting down the napkin, he took a second to try to compose himself before he started even tackling this. Did Gabe even have to ask? Sure, it was really weird that there was a guy who looked exactly like him, and they were sharing rooms, but Dean really didn't the next logical step was he had to be Spock, like he was a real person.
"Nah," Dean said, and made a point to push his juice cup far away if he was gonna keep getting sidelined by Gabe, "I think he's just a fanboy, takin' it too far, that sorta thing. He doesn't even look like Nimoy." Although that wasn't exactly the question, was it? "I think he does believe he's Spock. Maybe it's a coping thing, I dunno."
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And to top it off, Brian didn't seem to take him seriously or have any information that he could use. In fact, it was misinformation if anything: Sylar had been damn skeptical too, at first, but after being recognized immediately by a self-proclaimed "Kirk" and seeing "Spock" later on the same day...
But maybe it hadn't been just that. Maybe the stoniness he'd seen in Spock had been a little too real, or maybe he'd been able to read the half-familiar mannerisms better than he'd realized. There had been something there, something truly disturbing and therefore genuine.
It wasn't a damn 'coping thing'.
"Maybe," Sylar replied, mildly. He decided to take the conversation down a different route, glancing up at Brian again as he picked up another fry. He sighed "What I want to know is why the hell he looks exactly like me. Ever heard of anything like that around here?"
He was watching Brian closely. He'd probably get more vague, funny-man answers, but even those could tell him a lot about a man.
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"Could be a long-lost twin," Dean said, 'cause it was either that or tell him he better go find some silver 'cause he might be a shifter. As far as he knew, Spock just had a stick up his ass - y'know, the whole in-character thing - but he hadn't gone around killing people, so he wasn't gonna start telling Gabe to stab his roomie over this just being a little weird. "You could always try talkin' to the guy, Gabe. Maybe there's a pattern or something. It's not like he beamed down from the Enterprise."
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He tried, in that thought, not to remember how he'd imagined up those circumstances as a kid. He tried not to remember how desperately he'd wanted to believe them; how, until Chandra had come along, he'd been floating somewhere between life-long complacency and a complete nervous breakdown.
He succeeded. Mostly. He still couldn't get rid of the sharp rise in dread that he suddenly felt about seeing his roommate again, and he tried to push it aside by focusing on Brian again. The guy was getting friendly quick, though it was hard for Sylar to tell if "Gabe" was supposed to be a joke or not. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had called him that - third grade, maybe. He'd never had many friends to use it with, and now, it was just annoying.
"I have been trying to talk to him," Sylar replied in a growl, though a sideways glance made his words seem directed more at something else than at Brian. And maybe they were. He let out a breath and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry. It's been... difficult is all I'm saying."
It was also difficult to lose his cool all the time. It was difficult to cover it up with truth.
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