dreaming;;;

[makes_you_tick]

It's dark. It's possible to tell this because it's not pitch black. No, there is the occasional flourescent light on- security lights, of course. Nothing seems secure about this place, though. That light keeps blinking off occasionally, for instance, and it looks like one of the glass doors down the hall is shattered onto the floor.

It becomes clear after a little observation that this is an office, of some sort. Wide halls hide rooms with office desks, cabinets and computers. In one other direction, the glass becomes concrete at intervals. A giant number five is spray-painted onto it, in black.

The halls are the sort of quiet that comes from everything being shut down for awhile. Offices on the weekend, maybe even in the middle of the night. It's hard to tell, as the blinds are firmly drawn.

There is a bit of a sound, though- growing louder as if it's getting closer. It's the tick of some large clock. This is not the same as what the City hands out as punishment for being alone, this is different. This doesn't distract, it focuses. It almost seems to be pushing things along in an otherwise dead world. It's comforting, actually, having something to hang onto in a place that's so still.

[ooc: Feel free to have your character enter and interact. This is...uh, a normal dream for Sylar. Enjoy, guys! Oh, and just a warning- touching certain things in this dream will pull up memories.

ETA: I've been sick today, but I'm still slowly working on tags, I promise. <3]

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[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

As he follows the man in the shadows, the shape of the man seems to grow and shrink, until eventually all Brian can see is darkness.

It doesn't last long, though. Light peeks through from another door, another door of glass with bright colors behind it. Another diner, maybe, or a store of some sort.

[cold_dry_pieces]

So much for making friends, hmm? It's an odd little tour of someone else's sleeping mind. There doesn't seem to be much in the darkness... so he takes the obvious next step, and opens the bright new door.

[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

It is another diner, as it turns out. This one is less down home, though- it has more of that worn down, middle-of-nowhere feel.

There are people here this time- a guy at the bar, three people in close conversation at a table near the front, a kid running around with a toy car, none of them really anything to look at. None of them seem to notice Brian as he enters from the back.

[cold_dry_pieces]

Maybe he's arrived too early this time? The peace of the scene is a little strange, after the previous encounter. Maybe it's just a matter of time.

There's nothing too interesting, though... he wanders towards the people chatting, since they're the most animated, waiting for something to happen.

[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

They're speaking quietly, but not quietly enough. Brian can hear him when he comes nearer. The woman is wiping her eyes with a handkerchief, but she pats the arm of her husband. "No, I'm just- happy. I never thought I'd have a chance to raise a child, especially such a lovely one." She looks at the man across the table, uncertain of what she wants to say.

The man next to her voices his concern, though. "Are you sure you want to do this? You can't take him back after you spend the money, we'll be making it legal."

"If you're willing to buy, I'm willing to sell," says the man across the table, too loudly for the others' taste. "Where's the money?"

The other man pulls out a large roll of bills and the man across the table grabs quickly, grinning. "Gabriel! Hey, get over here!"

The kid, who can't be more than five years old, comes from his corner- the man just squares the boy's shoulders at the couple and says, "Stay here."

The man who just sold his own son walks towards the door, passing by Brian and giving him a dark glare as he goes.

[cold_dry_pieces]

The gist of that conversation is clear, and Brian returns the man's glare; though he's rarely interested in the business of others, he's got some hangups about families.

He watches the boy curiously; the man called him Gabriel, and Brian knows a Gabriel, and he rather doubts it's a coincidence. It doesn't entirely surprise him, given the dream thus far.

[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

"You're not supposed to be here," the man grumbles as he walks away. The woman tries to catch Gabriel's shoulder, but he pulls forward and runs after his father, out into the parking lot. "Daddy? What's-" The door shuts behind him as he stumbles, about twenty yards behind his father. Gabriel's all bright, awkward movements- he doesn't understand this. There's no way he could.

It's not surprising that Gabriel's father is getting in his car to drive away- what is surprising is there's a woman in the car. She raises her hand and shakes her head, as if arguing. Then she isn't visible anymore because a bright red stripe of blood has now covered the back seat window.

[cold_dry_pieces]

He follows the little boy outside, frowning faintly. Brian is a little unsettled by the situation; the strain of familiarity to the situation. Being left behind is something he understands.

He looks from the boy to the car just as the blood sprays across the window... picks up his pace, trying to catch up.

[makes-you-tick.livejournal.com]

The boy stops in his tracks when he sees the blood on the window. The woman is pushed out of the car and falls on her back, a deep line cut across her forehead. Her eyes are open but unseeing.

Gabriel walks slowly towards her, almost automatically. "Mommy? Mommy!" He keeps calling for her as he walks.

The woman that was in the diner rushes past, grabs Gabriel by the shoulders and turns him around. "It's okay, it's okay, that's not your mother. I'm your mother now, okay? It's okay." She's speaking fast and panicked.

The man- her husband- also comes out. He puts a hand on Brian's shoulder. "You shouldn't be here, you know."

Gabriel stares blankly at the top of his 'new mom's' shoulder.

[cold_dry_pieces]

"I know," Brian says coldly, shaking the hand off his shoulder and taking a step back. He spares the 'new mother' a glare; offended on the boy's behalf. As though it's so simple to erase the truth. As though that's what's best for him.

He's had enough of this. If it's real, if this is a memory, he understands the weight of this moment-- and it's something one shouldn't be forced to expose.

He strikes out across the parking lot, guessing that distance from the scene might take him out of the dream.