Underdog

[Daniel Cooper]

Prompt List

• Swim
• Mist
• Wedding
• Dragon
• Bet
• Fire
• Fight
• King
• Easter
• Smash

[Daniel Cooper]

>>king<<

A certain hunter had been ridiculously protective of his recently resurrected little brother as of late, and though no one could blame him even on a good day, it made catching Tyler completely alone almost impossible.  That was how, while tending to other customers, Coop managed to catch most of the conversation between Tyler and the stranger who'd wandered over, ordered and then basically dismissed the bartender and owner.  The only thing was, even for a human, the ex-cop was pretty damn observant.  He knew how to eavesdrop, and though he didn't have the inside information on Tyler's situation, he'd noticed how Trev had been watching and he picked up on the way the stranger started talking once the older brother got involved in his pool game.  Red flags, man.  The accent did it, too.

"Dat's your brotha, no?" the thin man asked, gesturing slightly to Trevor, and Coop's eyes flicked up from the shots he was pouring, following the man's gesture to the hunter, then looking back to the shots and switching liquors. 

"Yeah, you know him?" Tyler asked, assuming that he had to.  Trevor knew a lot of people, though 90% of them seemed to be acquaintances.  The guy had a presence about himself.  "Tyler."

"Hello, Tyler," the man said, and if Coop were to throw in his two cents, he'd have said it was kind of creepy, but he glanced between the two of them, didn't see any immediate threat, and went to drop off the shots for Rowen, Dominic and Tristan.  Oz was sitting way too close to them, which meant that Coop had to get tricky to keep the fiend from getting at them before the others had a chance at the alcohol they'd paid for, but he managed. 

"I swear to god, Oz, I'm buying a spray bottle and I'm gonna shoot you with it if you don't settle your ass down!" he snapped, rolling his eyes.

"Fuck a spray bottle, make it a super soaker and I'll pay half," Rowen retorted, downing his shot quickly to keep Oz away from it.

"We should all get super soakers," Dominic added, and Coop shook his head, gesturing with his hands in an obviously not-agreeable fashion.

"No.  Every idea you guys come up with ends in the bar getting trashed.  I'm going to start adding in a maintenance tax on all of your drinks."

There was mass disagreement there, and Oz took a few minutes to try to prove to Coop that he wasn't actually too drunk for another shot (he was still somewhat intelligent, so Coop agreed; kid went dumb harder and faster than anyone he'd ever met), and that landed him back to listening in on Tyler's conversation.  He'd apparently missed some segue from introductions into something a little more serious, which he didn't like.

"What do you mean, 'anything'?  'Course I'd do anything for him, he's my brother.  He'd do it for me."  Only one person present for this conversation knew that Trevor already had, and it wasn't Coop or Tyler. 

"Dat's what I was thinkin', but you never know.  Not all brothas do that for each other.  Mine?  He ain't dat kind."

Coop really didn't want to step away again, but Oz called something out to him, getting impatient, and he made an irritated sound and dropped the shot off, collected up their dirty glasses quickly, and made it back under the pretense of pouring a beer.  He was glad that he was close enough to hear without looking too obvious. 

"I like you, Tyler, you a good kid, yeah?  Dat brotha a' mine?  He be plannin' somet'in' bad, world's end bad, and he be plannin' on usin' your Treva' to do it," he told the kid, and Coop overpoured, then had to let some of the head go to fix it.  What the fuck?

"What?  How?"  Tyler looked as alarmed as he was.

"Aristide be tryin' to raise Lucifer himself, an' your brotha's gonna help him.  If you wanna save Treva's soul and everyt'in' else, you stop him, understand?  Stop him no matter how, even if it means killin' your Treva'.  Better dead den dat, I promise you."

"Dude, you're crazy, I'm not killing Trevor!"

Tyler looked like he was going to get up, which Coop definitely approved of, but the stranger's hand darted out faster than any of them could react.  "You gotta kill him, you kill him, den you come to me.  I can help you wit' it.  You jus' make sure Aristide don't raise de devil, boy."

"That's enough," Coop interjected, leaving the beer at the tap and grabbing across the bar for the man's shoulder for his attention.  At the same time, Trevor's head snapped up, apparently picking up on the raised voice and realizing it was in Tyler's direction.  Coop caught the hunter's eyes narrowing as he squared his shoulders and stalked over, his pool game forgotten.  "I suggest you leave, sir."

"Dat's fine, jus' wanted one, anyway," the stranger replied smoothly, finishing off his drink with a smirk as Tyler gave him a sharp look and met Trevor halfway to stop him from trying to smash the thin black man at the bar.  Nathaniel, having also clued into Coop's raised voice, had stepped up behind him from whatever corner he'd been in with Rook (Coop assumed - the two of them had become friendly, it seemed) at some point, and the back-up was acceptable.  Nathaniel had a habit of looking like he was going to wreck shit.

The stranger slid his glass to Coop, still strangely smug for someone being asked to leave, and went for the door with no argument or further incident.  All in all, he seemed somewhat triumphant, but Coop couldn't understand why until he saw Tyler's eyes lingering on the man, or the way he glanced to his brother.  He hoped he wasn't seeing what he thought he was. 

"What the hell was that?" Nathaniel demanded, and Coop shook his head, then tried to fix the beer he'd been pouring again.

"New troublemaker, pretty sure.  You hear anything about Papa Aristide?"

"You're kidding, right?  Everyone in the supernatural community knows of that fucker."

"You ever heard of him having a brother?"

"No.  Why, he say that's who he is?  Probably lying, just looking for attention.  He's like, magical royalty around here, some poser's bound to try to use a fake connection to him for some attention."

"Yeah, I guess so."  It still bothered him, though.  Even if Nathaniel was right about Aristide's place in the community, Coop didn't want to see some outsider try to knock the creepy bastard off of his throne.  Better the devil they knew than some new monster.  On the bright side, that beer he'd had to 'fix' a few times went to Blair, who'd definitely stood him up twice now and totally deserved it.  Not that it was gross or anything, but he still got the slightest measure of satisfaction out of it.