nexus_crossings | The Post-Apocalyptic Doughnut Thief

The Post-Apocalyptic Doughnut Thief

Nothing in Antillioch is clean. Or tidy. Or not covered in a thick layer of desert. Which is why the appearance of a pristine white door that may well lead to some spiffed-up futuristic hospital ward is something of a shock to Zack. There follows a brief consultation with his brother, who doesn't seem to want anything to do with it, as it's so ..spotless, and white, and... ewww. For the two hellgods it's completely out of place and worse. They're so attuned to their hell dimension that anything this hygienic sits in the craw like a stuck fishbone.

Abe, casually examining his fingernails, suggests Zack tries the handle, just, you know, to see if it's locked. We don't want anything pleasant coming in. Stupidly, Zack's curiosity wins over and he does actually open the door a crack... Abe swiftly shoves him straight though it, and the Apocalyptic prince is sent sprawling. He literally faceplants into this new, uncomfortably pure environment.

He's ended up on the main plaza, and lifts his head, not liking anything he sees. But that's Zack all over. He doesn't like anything much. He even snarls at the few unfortunate people closest to him.

Nothing about the Nexus feels comfortable to Zack. Not until he smells something drifting across the plaza. He follows the scent until he comes to a doughnut stand.

Zack is the embodiment of the post-apocalyptic hellscape. He's on nodding terms with all four horsemen, and his own essence combines War, Famine, Pestilence and Death.. or more accurately the after-effects of such things. Away from his own dimension, he feels the hunger of famine, and Zack hasn't actually ingested anything for centuries.

Now he's in the realm of the living, these soft little dough things smell amazing.

He grabs one and tears into it, ignoring the stallholders protests about something like paying, or money, or something. When the stallholder tries to physically take his arm, Zack pulls away, swipes another of the sweet dough shapes, and wrenches himself away from the stand. Zack moves through the crowds away from the still-shouting stalholder, almost bumping into everyone - he's not used to crowds.

And he doesn't understand the concept of theft.

He almost sends some poor person tumbling as he tries to make his exit. But he can't find the infernal door and that stupid sweet-dough-thing person is still on his tail. Zack grabs the nearest passerby by the lapel, demanding... “What's his fucking problem? What the fuck's money? What does that even mean?”

[ooc: Cue argument between your muse, Zack, and the doughnut seller. Mun apologises for his language and behaviour. He's not housebroken yet...]

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Dean had been making his way to doughy-goodness when he'd seen the guy just grab one and run. An eyeroll to himself later, and he was weaving his way through the crowd, managing to edge ahead of the stall holder and as he caught up to the guy- he grabs his jacket. Okay, first off? rude. He raises his hands non-threateningly, using his eyes to gauge the guy and try to get a read on him, ready to attempt to break the hold if he needed to. His pulse quickens at the thought of a possible fight, but he mentally stamps on it. "Woah, hey. If you're gonna get handsy the least you could do is buy me a drink first."

Dean very deliberately turns his head towards the guy headed their way, an unimpressed look on his face. "Money's what's gonna get that ass off your tail. And when you let me go?" Note the when, not if. "I can pay up for you and maybe explain some things. Well, best as I know 'em."

The mortal he has in his grip doesn't react quite the way they usually do. This startles Zack enough to give him pause, and perhaps not dry the mortal out from the inside, or have him eaten by rats. (He has no idea as yet, that his powers are useless here.)

Handsy? It takes him a moment to work that one out. Zack is pansexual, not that he'd dirty himself on a mortal. So if he is offended it's not for the usual reasons... only the human goes on to speak clearly and without fear. It might not answer his question, but it's good enough. Mortals frequently try to bargain their way out of certain death, even when their planet is crumbling around them. This one seems no different, but at least he's not cowardly about it.

Zack growls, but he releases the human. “Don't think you can cheat me. Nobody can.”

He might sound a bit more grateful.

"Excuse you?" But he backs up a couple of steps, still ready to hit fight mode if necessary. "I mean, I don't owe you shit, but that's fine. I can always leave you to the guy." He takes another step back to make his point, but with enough weight on the balls of his feet that he'd be able to manoeuvre himself quickly. He continues "see how well you eat and how long you last on scraps if you don't pay the guy. Place like this? Word spreads fast. Some manners might be a good idea."

He's like 90% sure this guy ain't playing with a full deck.

"When you make an offer, I don't expect you to cheat," he tells the human, speaking slowly so he can understand. But yes. He's probably being rude. Abe tells him he's rude all the time.

Zack doesn't see it that way, he's just direct. Dressing up intentions in pretty words doesn't seem honest to him. "All right. All right. I apologise. I'm not familiar with your customs." He sighs. It's very difficult to get his next words out to a mortal without choking on them. "I'd. Appreciate. The assistance."

And then through gritted teeth. "Please."

"Hey. You." The doughnut guy arrives, irked. "You gonna pay for those, or do I call security?"

"Oh, I'm so scared," Zack mutters.

Oh look at that, a please and an apology, he was just after one or the other so he'll take both happily.

As the doughnut guy has arrived, Dean's started casually asking his way over back to Zack. "Oh, hey. I've got this." There's a very subtle elbow in your arm, just enough to get you to quit snarking, and to draw your attention. A small fold of bills are taken out. There's not many left here, been a while since he last went hustling, hence using his card normally, but there 's enough to show Jack what they look like. A one, some fives- ah, that's what he's after. He takes a twenty, and offers it up to the shopkeeper. "I'm sure that should cover it and get you somethin' for your trouble. Unless you do delivery, 'cause then it's to cover that." Okay, so even he can't do this without a little snark on his own part.

Honestly? He hated seeing people hungry. Been there, done that shit. He wouldn't have left with that little provocation. He looks between the two. "Are we all cool, now?"

The contact makes Zack look down at the human's elbow. It's perfectly acceptable for Zack to go grabbing people, but he's not overly impressed when mortals touch him. He does however take the cue and observe this... transaction.

“That's generous, sir, thanks.” The vendor is a little tight-lipped, but the perfectly pleasant guy with the money is obviously not at fault here.

It's clear Zack wants to throw a parting shot as the guy turns to leave them, instead he just mutters “dick” under his breath, loud enough for only the human with the money to hear. He pulls out a doughnut from his pocket. It's now dusty and beginning to fall apart, but he's still ravenous and takes a bite. Table manners clearly aren't his forte either, as he speaks with his mouth full.

“So 'at's money? How d'I get some?”

Dean throws Zack a smirk and levels a middle finger once the guy's back is turned, then turns back to Zack. "Plenty of ways to get it. I got this batch hustling pool, but I have a feeling that might be beyond you right now."

He keeps the cash there, and folds through them again as he talks to illustrate his point. "I'm going under the assumption here that you at least know basic maths because otherwise we've got more work to do than I hoped. Each one has a number on it. See? The one, the five, ten, twenty... basically, these bits of paper, or in some cases metal coins, have a number value. The shopkeep decide how much of that number something is worth. You pay that amount or more- in which case they give you back the left over- and then you get the thing."

He looks around, heading up where the nearest food place would be. That's not too fancy because... yeah... "Like Dinner. Get something in you more filling than the doughnut, and if you're lucky? Tastier, too. You coming or what?"

When the diplomatic human makes some kind of rebellious gesture at the disappearing vendor, Zack gapes at him. How changeable they are! The look on his face is very nearly a grin, though not quite. Zack mimics the gesture and examines his own hand. He doesn't get it, but he'll remember it for future insults.

No. He wouldn't know how to hustle a pool, and shrugs.

“I know how to count,” he says a little petulantly. He knows one brother plus one brother is two brothers. Or that five demons and two more demons make a unit of seven. He's a little limited after that and needs to count on his fingers.

Zack can't read, but he studies the pieces of decorated paper he's shown. “The five is like a serpent. The ten's a stick and a circle. … the Twenty looks like a long-necked bird and a circle... maybe its egg.” He doesn't quite get the coins, but will examine some closer when he can get them. It's likely the person he's giving it to will know how many coins to give him back. Not that he really cares. It's all just paper and bits of metal.

So that's what the pastries are called. “Tastier than a doughnut?” he asks, eyes almost bugging out of his head, wondering if such a thing is possible. Then, “Fuck yes. I'm coming.”

At the comments about how the money looks he has a moment of 'Oh god', he's got his work cut out for him. That, and with how much of a little shit this guy has the potential to be? He's getting an idea. Possibly a terrible one. But he'll get there. Two birds with one stone.

He makes the gesture again, and quirks a grin, having noticed that apparently this guy likes that. "It's called flipping the bird, and it's your best weapon against assholes. It's universal language for "screw you"."

He starts leading him towards the nearest restaurant that will sell both hearty main meals, and deserts in case of him just having a sweet tooth for now. He can always work him up. "So, you got a name? Mine's Dean.

The explanation is - sort of - satisfying. Slang like 'flipping the bird' is a bit lost on Zack, but he perfectly understands 'screw you'. “Is there more of this universal language?” he asks. For some reason, the idea appeals to him. The subterfuge of it. The silence that speaks volumes.

Sweet foods are definitely appealing to him, but with a cosmos of delicacies to explore added to that famine-cursed hunger, Zack won't be faddy about eating. In fact he probably won't stop cramming food into his slight frame. Or making everybody jealous that no matter what he eats, he'll never gain weight.

He examines the mortal as they walk. Seeing one up close, when it's not panicking, or screaming, or running, or dying, is an entire new perspective for him. This one is... really strange actually. Nonetheless, the impertinent manner is more reassuring than infuriating. On some level that Zack doesn't yet understand.

“I'm Aisaak, prince of the hell dimension of Antillioch; avenger of murdered worlds; brother to the hellgod Abdiron.” Like that's the most normal thing ever, and nobody he meets could possibly be a demon hunter.

“Zack's a lot easier though.”

Dean's shoved his hands in his pockets at this point, leading him with a quiet assurance that he's sure you're following even without him looking back too much at this point. It's also the quiet assurance of 'so help me, I can and will kick your ass if I need to.' The quiet confidence that has pulled him through a lot of this kind of shit, actually, even when he's actually not all that confident at all. Although, even as they walk, a part of him is marvelling at how the hell he manages to keep on attracting this level and magnitude of weirdness. He chuckles "Zack is much easier. And there's plenty, although you may find it more fun to learn as you go, you know?"

If that's what it's gonna take to keep this guy where he can keep an eye on him? Sure.

"Hell dimension, huh? Gonna guess that the concept of good mattresses and pillows is a new concept to you too, huh?" He looks back to quirk an eyebrow at him over his shoulder. Look at how he's not even questioning that sentence. He needs to gauge how much trouble this guy could be without outright asking. "There's a couple of things that need explaining there, actually. One: You being a Prince, you got any neat perks that come with that? Like, what do you do?" Angling to see if he can pick up an idea of the level of outright power-based fuckery that you are carrying right now. "Two: you aren't expecting me to bow, right? Because I'm telling you now, you're gonna be disappointed." The last bit was clearly a joke, although rooted in truth. He'll... get to that murdered worlds thing... soon. He may need a beer first.

It's probably lucky for Dean that Zack is conditioned to follow someone. He's always obeyed Abe, if nobody else, and in the absence of his brother, even a confident mortal might be able to keep Zack in check. Especially if he's hungry.

Which is always.

He'll just blink at mattresses and pillows, because he thinks it makes him look like he knows what Dean's talking about.

“I respond the way a dying world does, to the infestation.” It's all normal to him, so Zack doesn't try to sugar-coat the pill. “I can bring acid rain, swarms of creatures, open fissures in the ground, rot all the available food, dry mortals out from the inside...” He waves a hand in a 'that sort of thing', gesture. “I can show you, if you want me to.”

At the joke, Zack just looks confused. “Nobody bows. They just try to hide.”

"Yeah, well, that ain't happening either." He just carries on leading him through, not letting his concern at the magnitude of those things show through. Yep. Close eyes indeed. "Real apocalypse-level things. I'll pass, I've already danced that fandango. It was boring the first time around." He puts smirk into his voice as he waves a dismissive hand, keeping his face carefully casual.

The apocalypse had been hell, but not for the reasons Zack would probably think, but he wasn't letting him know that.

"And that's a no on a comfy bed. Well, we can fix that too, after food." He's going to swing the door of the restaurant open as he says it, waving him through as he holds it. "And just a warning? For every bit of trouble you cause me while I'm paying? Your food allowance drops. I'll tell you when that is, if it comes up. This ain't a fancy place, but you never mess with the people bringing your food. That's how you get spit-food. So show a decent level of respect." He's not expecting best behaviour, not by a long shot, but if he can at least keep him on track without anything getting broken? He'll call it a win.

It strikes him that he doesn't particularly want Dean to hide. That's something he'll have to examine later on. More at the front of his mind is what kind of mortal finds the apocalypse boring?

That's just. No.

Its not that he's insulted, it's just... who finds terror and death boring? He's about to bombard Dean with questions until the mattresses thing comes back to bit him in the arse. How did Dean know? The likelihood that the human is psychic seems more realistic to a creature like Zack, than the fact that he's probably betraying himself with every expression. “I s'pose comfy is good. Whatever a bed is.”

As he passes through the open door, Zack braces himself for the warning Dean says is coming. But it's nothing dangerous sounding, although having his food allowance reduced is not something he likes the sound of. It's often the way Abe controls him when he's being... whatever he's being.

Zack's shoulders droop. “That's exactly what Abe does. Thought it'd be different in a place of abundance.” But he does take in the rules. Don't mess with the serving-mortals. Spit-food doesn't sound pleasant.

“I don't know how to behave in this place,” he hisses under his breath, once they’re in. “What do I do?”

"I don't like doing it, but there's certain things you just don't do and I'd like you to learn them quickly." Well, he says that he'll reduce the food allowance. It doesn't mean he'll do it, but he says it. "And as for not knowing how to behave? There's only 3 things I care about, honestly." He holds up a finger to tick each one off as he follows in behind. "Don't break anything without good reason. Be polite to the people with the food - unless they're rude first, in which case go ham. and don't be touching the women in any way other than friendly without them saying so first. If anything else comes up we'll address it at the time, and go forward from there but at the moment that's all I can think of." He has a feeling Zack may miss unspoken context clues about a woman's consent. He'd help with that if it came up.

That's it. Nothing on table manners, nothing on minding the language, nothing. Also note how the rules, apart from the last, are qualified. Are you surprised, Zack?

It's fairly easy to find a table, and Dean puts the menu- wait. He didn't recognise the numbers on the money, he's got no chance of being able to read the damn thing. One thing for it, then. Some quick math later as he chews on his lip, and- it'll wipe out what's left on the Mastercard, he's not the lowest on cash, not great, but he can afford it. Just. He's going to have to do a little more than pool shark if he's going to keep up with this. Although to distract Zack from the mental hula hoops he is doing right now, he drops out there - mostly because he's actually concerned about it "You said Abe screwed with your food?"

As a female server approaches and greets you both watch as he drops you a wink, looks up to the waitress with an almost carefree grin that would light up a room. "Hi. We'll take one of everything, but not all at once if that's okay? When the kid's full or tried everything, whichever comes first, we'll stop." He hands back the menu. "Oh and just a beer for me." He looks back to Zack, and back at the menu. "Do you know what you want to drink? Or are you wanting the same deal?"

Abe has never said he doesn't like doing it. He's said 'I know what's best,' and he's yelled 'I am your god, you snivelling little gobshite'; and just been generally overbearing. There have been times when his brother slung an arm around his shoulders though. Zack still hasn't cottoned on to the fact that it's only usually been when Abe is trying to get him to do something. There have been moments of genuine affection because Abe cares for his brother in his way, but he's not generally demonstrative.

It's only now beginning to occur to Zack that he's being given orders and rules by a mortal, but because of the way Dean is behaving, there's a sense of fairness. A lot of Zack's spite and fury is born of injustice, and oddly, this tiny amount of fair-mindedness removes the reason to lash out. Zack is not sure how he should react to it. He's utterly conflicted and will be for some time. For now though, he pays attention and begins to grasp that there are rules here that don't exist at home. That's just the way it is.

As regards sex, Zack is (presently) the least likely to make any overtures. He's lain with the demons of his world from time to time, and there's occasionally been unpleasantness with his brother when Zack has really angered him. But he's never been with anyone living. If he does ever consider intimacy with mortals, he's just as likely to ask a male as a female.

So. He's already beginning to form an idea that special rules apply to females.

Possibly because they bear young. Spawn are a heavy investment, so females must be valuable. It's his basic understanding of the animal world applied to more intelligent species. .. he might not understand the more subtle social clues that mean 'no', however, so Dean may have to step in there.

“Don't break things. Eat ham if it's not spit-food. Don't molest females,” he repeats understanding as best he can.

Taking a seat at the table Dean finds, Zack begins to poke about the sugar bowl, and some of the accoutrements one finds on a restaurant table, including a glass vase with a plastic flower in it. “Yeah, if I make him angry, or if I don't do something, or if we fight. I can always find some kind of meat - 'Roaches, rats, snakes, but he makes them scarce if he's pissed off. I don't get this hungry at home, but I still need something.”

He looks up when Dean refers to him as a kid. Perhaps he should tell the mortal how old he is. Then is instantly distracted by the promise of everything on the menu and the offer of a drink on top of all that.

“Clean water,” he blurts, a little over-eagerly. “No grit, just a few bugs.” Clean water has always sounded exciting. It must be so much easier to take along drink without having to sieve it through one's teeth.

As Zack recites the rules, it takes a physical effort not to laugh. But he does it, giving him a nod. "Yep, pretty much."

Nope, even then you're pretty much going to be 'kid' for now. He goes to say something, but the waitress gives Zack a smile and says "Sure thing, hon." As she jots it down and starts to walk away because this is going to be a hell of a service. Dean chuckles to himself. "Heh, they have a bar that gives vamps blood, I don't know why I'm surprised, honestly."

But the look on his face I that of a very unimpressed scowl, and has been since Zach explained what his brother does with food. He's definitely not actually going to follow through on his threat now, even if he really fucks up. He'll find some other way to deal with it for sure. He has a look of calm about him that's settled in. It's a good thing you don't know him at all yet, because that's the sign that his head is going to places that only promises trouble for the one his thoughts are ticking over on. His voice is soft, kind, and layered with sympathy. "He... stops your food because he's pissed off? Is that all, or.... is there more?"

One thing he does know, is that vampires exist, and what they are. That they are catered for here, is less surprising to Zack than it seems to be to Dean. “I saw a lot of different species here, out there.” He points in the direction of the restaurant doors. “They must all need feeding, and want the things they know.”

If the doughnut was anything to go by, screw the things he knows. He's going to try things other species like for a change.

Wondering a bit why Dean's mood has seemed a touch irked, Zack has quietened down and stopped poking at the objects on the table. Plastic flowers? Really? For the love of Gaia, why?. But when Dean speaks again, his voice is so kind, Zack realises that he hasn't done anything wrong. It perks him up a little, in the way that only a sullen and feral spirit can perk up.

“We fight,” he says, matter-of-factly, with a shrug. “He's more powerful so I get my arse handed to me. A handful of times, he gave me to the demons. Even less times, he buggered me himself.” (This causes one of the punters at another table to almost choke on her apple pie.) “But he's never had me flogged, or sent to the torture chambers. I'd hate to be a demon that pissed him off. That's what they get.”

The implements of torture and flogging are a thousand times more horrific than any mortal would expect. After all, these are powerful supernatural creatures. A cat o' nine tails would barely tickle them.

He gets more still, more truly angry he gets. Sure, him and Sam fought even to the point where they had to part their seperate ways to take a breather. Where they had passed each other down to the mercy of a creature. Sam's soulless period does not count, and never will, and that wasn't really because of a fight. That was because it was efficient.

And then that word comes out of his mouth, and everything gets washed way in a sea of grey, as he feels cold rage flood every sense he has. It would have been this way anyway. With the mark, it was a quick way to sign a death warrant. He wasn't the first god Dean Winchester had killed, and he wouldn't be the last. He would, however, be the first god he beat to death until the blood smeared in the floors and- the low him in his ears. This wasn't him. But it also was. It also very, very was.

Drinks are bought over extremely quickly to the table, almost as if the staff are trying to get the conversation hurried along or changed by the delivery of beverages. The fact he was qualifying with a 'But' statement of any kind was just... insane. Mind-boggling. Just so very, very wrong.

I need the blade. It was the first time since turning back that he didn't push the thought away. Hellgod vs the jawbone that can kill anything. Probably handy to have on-side.

"You... you know that's not okay, right?" Despite the clear murder in every inch of his body, the voice is still as soft and as gentle as the first question into this revelation. "And that just because he doesn't send you to the flogging or torture chambers doesn't make any of what you said okay. Or any less wrong in the slightest."

He was going to kill him if he showed up.

As they speak, Abdiron is attempting to gain access to the Nexus, which keeps blocking him. Zack has absolute faith that his brother will find him. In fact, it's so obvious to him that he hasn't even bothered mentioning it yet. As brothers, sure, they behave like brothers, there's scuffling and banter. Occasionally when Abe feels like it, there's laughter, and Zack gets his hair ruffled with an affectionate grin.

Abe is actually very good at using and manipulating his kid brother, in all manner of ways. It's not lack of intelligence on Zack's part, It's that he's deliberately kept ignorant and inexperienced.

It's all he knows, and it's how he thinks a big brother is supposed to behave.

Zack has no real empathic ability, and he's so new to being among the living that he doesn't yet get what all the body language is about. Dean is clearly not smiling or laughing right now, but the softness of his voice conveys that Zack hasn't pissed him off.

“It's hell,” he replies, slightly distracted by the arrival of clean water.. which has no bugs in it. Normally he'd be disappointed, but some of the food smells like... nothing Zack could even imagine, so he's not overly upset about that. “Nothing in hell's okay, is it?”

No, no nothing in hell is okay and he has a feeling that that will be a constant no matter which world people come from. However. HOWEVER.

"Do you really think that excuses any of it though?" He asks, still carefully keeping himself as gentle as possible. Mostly at this point because he wants to flip the damn table and he has a feeling that won't go down too well or be understood as to why. "He's your brother. Hell dimension and hellgod, or not."

Okay, so maybe he's about to start a rant. Batten down. The hatches. This built up aggression has go to go somewhere. "I mean, what the hell? Even in hell. Especially in hell. He's a hellgod? Why the hell is he tossing you to demons instead of making sure you're above them? You know, next to him? Where you should be because you're his brother? And not with an insignificant amout of power, by the sounds of things so even if he doesn't like you he could at least be making you useful. No, fuck that." He twists the cap off his beer. That thing's not a screw top, and he didn't use his ring to do it. "He's supposed to look the hell after you and make sure you're ok, not using you for twisted games like-" He can't quite bring himself to say the words. That's okay, hopefully you know what he means, because he's still in full swing regardless. "And. And he fucks with your food. I know I said I was gonna? But no. I wasn't. Because screw that. I never let Sam go hungry when I was bringing him up and like hell I am letting anyone else go hungry that I'm keeping an eye on while I can do anything about it. Family is the most important thing you're supposed to have. If he's a goddamned deity, then that goes fucking doubly so. Not having you sit here tell me any of this is acceptable just because 'Hell's not okay'. It might not be your hell, but I've seen it, done it and got the goddamned T-shirt and I did it for my brother. You're not going to convince me that literally anything about this is passable just because you're from hell. That's bullshit."

He's just gonna drain the god damned beer, and put the empty on the table. "Just so you know? If he ends up here? You get to him before me or there'll be nothing left to apologise to you for what he's done. I've killed more gods than you've got fingers, kid, and I'm damn resourceful. I'll find a way."

The waitress who's been stood meekly to the side from about halfway through the rant just quietly puts the food on the edge of the table and scurries away. Dean doesn't notice.

The reaction is so unexpected, that for a moment Zack just gapes. His wiry frame tenses too, ready at first to fight it out because he's not scared of any mortal, however angry. Although on some level, Zack is crestfallen that he's managed to make Dean Not Like Him.

But the human doesn't attack him and Zack doesn't lift a finger to do likewise. Dean is clearly furious and for once in his - incredibly - long life, Zack doesn't know how to handle it. He realises that this mortal is the very last being in existence that he wants to harm, or even just fight with. That alone is so new to him, Zack is confused and stunned. He shrinks back in his seat. It's an animalistic response, but it's all he has.

It's probably a good job that Dean does keep talking, and doesn’t stop for a while because it takes Zack that long to grasp what the human is actually attempting to communicate. Abe is wrong. He's maybe not wrong to be in charge, but he's wrong in the way he's doing it. Family isn't what Zack thinks it is. Is Dean right about that? It's confusing as all hells thrown in together, because Zack has never had any reason not to just go with the natural order, with the fact that Abe is bigger and stronger and it's the law of the wild, and ... and...

Is everything he ever thought he knew, not the truth?

Deep in his heart, Zack knows if he had a little brother, he'd never starve him, or throw him to the demons, or do some of the other unsavoury things that Abe has done. He's always thought it was because he was just himself, Zack. And different to Abe.

“I didn't question it,” he admits, downcast. “My existence is pain. Hell is pain. I never knew anything else. Besides even if I did, I...” He was about to protest he was powerless against Abe. But Zack knows he might have found some way to leave Antillioch. Leap from one dying world to the next until Abe had no idea how to find him. Though it is hard to hide from a hellgod forever. But he could have tried.

Maybe Abe would just let him go? If he knew his little brother really wanted to? Maybe.

“Please don't kill him,” Zack mumbles after a bit. “He's my brother. If it's wrong, I'll tell him. Then things'll be okay.”

He really is that naïve. He really does think that telling Abe he doesn't like to be treated that way, and that it's not what brothers do, will change anything. Zack hasn't got an inkling that Abe needs his powers; needs the dead souls that Zack brings to Antillioch. Or that there may be other reasons for keeping him ignorant.

It's in this light, that it seems Zack doesn't, has never, or never will, truly belong in a hell realm.

It was the sight of Zack shrunk back in his chair that helped him pull his head clear of that particular slippery thought slope, just, shaking his head. The anger drains out of his body, slumping in his chair with a heavy sigh. You're breaking his heart here, damn it. He could take a chance that Zack was right, but he wasn't very hopeful. He just reaches out, and slides the food from the edge of the table to in front of Zack, mostly for lack of anything else to do with himself right now. You're breaking his heart. "And what if it's not? What if you speak to him, and it's not? He treats you like that when you don't know it's wrong, what are the chances he's just going to cave when you do?"

But it's not a no, either. The deep-seated cold anger is still there, but at this point, it's quickly becoming a this that is deep-rooted. He's also not sure if this is just something he may be able to just let go. He has an idea, though. He lets a smile onto his face, but all he can manage is the sort that's soft and sad. "Hey, tell you what. How about this in that case? I was already planning on letting you stay, if you wanted to. Mostly so I could keep an eye on you, give you the crash course in how things work-" like being a functional people "like how to earn money and apparently some of the smaller things like reading and numbers. So. You come stay? I'll teach you how you're supposed to treated on top of everything else. If he turns up? I let you take the reigns, and do my best to keep out from under you two guy's feet, beyond you keeping in with me for long enough that we can figure out whether he's really taking on board what you're telling him, and not hunting him. However. He goes back to not treating you right? I'm 'stepping in'. And I'll still do my best not to kill him." He knows the last bit is a bit of word trickery, but he also doesn't make promises he knows he can't keep when it matters.

As the food is pushed under his nose, Zack is still intently watching Dean. It's a slice of pizza. Focussed as he is on Dean, it's not until the full delicious smell is almost in his face that Zack looks down and instantly wants to try it.

He knows Abe better than anyone, and while the hellgod is the ruler of Antillioch, and what he says, goes, there have been times when he's relented. “Most of the time I argue, or fight, or shout. If I was calm, he might listen.” This is how it often goes with the brothers. If Zack puts Abe's back up from the get-go, he never wins. If he's a little more reasonable. Abdiron may listen, and make a compromise.

Of course Zack hasn't a clue that it's mostly down to Abe letting his brother think he's being reasonable or kind. He listens and does his best to understand. Wondering what it must be like to have Dean as a brother.

“Stay?” he asks, gaping and uncertain. “With you, you mean?” There follows a few firm little nods while Zack tries not jump around, or laugh, or show Dean just how much he'd like that.

Ack. Mortals. Why is this one so different?

“I agree to your terms,” Zack tells him, after a few minutes of thought (and trying not to turn cartwheels.) “But... what's in it for you?” He's not sure what he can give Dean in return; and in Zack's universe, you never get anything without a price attached.

Welp. He's really not sure what he did to endear himself to the guy quite so fast, but then he seemed to be a magnet for weird. Cas... Benny.... really? This about tracks, huh. He gives a shrug. "I'm not asking for anything. Honestly, I just... I can't stand to see people hungry, and if someone saw Sam in your position? I'd hope they'd do the same for him."

...Well. Half-honestly. He's been through hell and Dean can relate. Especially as it's becoming screamingly clear he's a good kid - he can't help it, even looking in his thirties when he throws out that much naivety - who really doesn't seem like he... fits? With the hellscape thing? Maybe one day he'll tell him all of it.

"Well. Actually. Just that you clean up after yourself, I ain't gonna be your maid."

The Post-Apocalyptic Doughnut Thief

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...He has some feeling on this.

THE FEELS. Give me dem.

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Thought I'd move it along a little... all that food. :O

That's cool, I would have done the same thing with this tag if not. Great minds xD

Oh for an image of the PB drinking through a straw...

I have the opposite problem... TOO MUCH CHOICE AND NOT ENOUGH SPACE D:

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