everything's gotta burn to get back to its purest state;

all the best has yet to be laid to waste

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[rl] get your own bed spike >:(
here i dreamt i was an architect
[It's 4 am. Sylar is sleeping. Because that's usually what normal people do at 4 am. He's dreaming about ice caves ... ]

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Let's look at the statistics. How many times has Buffy -- this Buffy -- ever shot you a text asking for help?

And do you think that's about to change any time soon?

[He shoots Sylar a look, lacing his hands behind his head.] Do me a favor, eh? Don't lecture. It doesn't suit you.

[He ignores Spike's look in favor of rolling his eyes.] Wasn't lecturing. Just trying to be helpful. If you're gonna crawl into my bed at 4 am to complain about Buffy, I figure I should at least say something.

It sounds ridiculous when you say it like that. [He sounds a lot like a kicked puppy rn.]

..Can't turn my back on her. That's not a choice.

[SPIKE ;_; ]

Why do we do it? Why do we give so much of ourselves to people who never really cared in the first place? How can we not turn our backs on them when they were never facing us to begin with? [he's getting s-so emotional right now.] It's pathetic.

[It's okay bro, he's here for you ;____;]

I know, mate. I know. We stretch ourselves so thin and for what? Probably nothin'.

I'm just trying to say that you shouldn't. If you can help it.

Can't help it though, can I? Not just talking about Buffy either. The whole lot of 'em, they only know me as a vampire; the bloody enemy. So what if it makes time a little wonky? I don't care. Especially not when Jr. Slayers get worldhops to stab me in the heart. That's just plain unsportsmanshiplike.

Willow and Oz came around alright, but the rest. Even Angel.... You got me out of Hell, that's as far as I go. I'm still a champion, got no bloody choice in that. And you... me and you are heroes, mate. Or we can be again. Just gotta answer the call. [Where Sylar's getting emotional, Spike is just getting intense.]

Edited at 2011-03-12 04:12 pm (UTC)

I'm redirecting my calls to voicemail.

[What does that even mean? Sylar doesn't know. It's just words coming out of his mouth, like someone saying "it's not gonna be bacon for another hour." He rolls over to experiment with sleeping on his stomach.]

[Spike sighs. That seems to make enough sense to him even if he doesn't like the message.]

Just like that?

Yeah. I'm not a hero, okay? I'm not. I can't ... do it. I don't know how. [The last part comes out muffled as he smashes his face into the pillow.] And maybe I just need to accept that.

No one needs to accept anything. I've learned a thing or two about saving the world. Remember, I did it once, yeah? And I've been tryin' to do it again. But it's been eating me up, that I just... left, the way I did.

[He turns toward Sylar even though the other man isn't looking.] But I know I belong here now. It's.. too long a story for this early. The reason I'm here is for you. I'm supposed to help you.

[He comes up from his pillow for air just in time to ~lock eyes~ with Spike.] No one sticks with that story for very long. I kill them or they leave. Lucky for you, I bet it's gonna be the latter. No more killing and all. [groan] I'm so useless.

[Spike's not getting less intense about this, Sylar.]

I saw the way it ended for me there. Was a girl, knew the future, and she knew I wasn't in it.

So tell me, what happens if I don't leave?

Now that's just right out mean. [He looks vaguely amused though.] You can't tell me because it's never happened. Who knows that better than me? Everyone's left me too. We can both be bloody useless, together. Maybe it'll get some use out of us after all.

[Sylar is done pretending not to be five now. He shoves his hand into Spike's face because that will ... shut him up. And utters, in the whiniest voice ever,]

Go to sleeeeep.

[Spike nods, batting Sylar's hand away, but this look says, YOU WIN THIS TIME. Because there will be other times he climbs into Sylar's bed and.....wins. But tonight/this very early morning is for sleep; he acquiesces.

He rolls over and does eventually let sleep claim him.]

[it's okay, spike. sylar's going to ... spoon you in his sleep. you can always enjoy that.]

[Spike woke up warmer than he could remember for.. well. A long damn time. He panicked a little at first, thinking he was in the Sunlight's path, and he started edging off the bed and out of Sylar's arms(?). This alarmed him and he landed on the floor with a decisive thump.

Sunlight was streaming in the window, peaking through the curtains, but it was all contained to Sylar's side of the room and he allowed himself a sigh of relief. He would just not think about the alleged spooning as he stopped off at his room to put on actual clothes, before carrying onto the kitchen and making...eggos. He threw four in the toaster and started heating up some A neg. He sat and waited for Sylar to wake up, knowing the waffle-smell would doubtlessly do its magic within moments.]

[Look, it did. Sylar loves waffles. And doesn't like ... people escaping him while he sleeps. And thumping around on his floor. So between those three things, he slowly rises from his bed and makes his way down the stairs. Like a banana in pajamas. If bananas in pajamas were ... surly unshaven men in their underwear with half-dead looks in their eyes.]

We have a waffle maker ...

But this was quicker. [There's a plate with three of the eggos topped in butter and syrup, and cut into little squares like someone's mum might do. And a glass of orange juice all set in front of the chair next to Spike. He shrugs, dunking his lone remaining eggo in his blood.]

[Sylar's not even questioning it at this point. He's just going to sit down and eat his breakfast, violently stabbing at an eggo piece with his fork and shoving it in his mouth.] But it tastes better--

[Wait. What. Is he seriously putting blood in his eggos ... eggos in his blood ...... ]

Spike, that's disgusting.

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