"So I can't go to heaven or hell now since you have my soul, and although demons do this exact same thing, you aren't one. I'm borrowing your powers, and you want me to use these to punch others in the same situation as me... because?" Mat and Pitambara were now in a pub, each with a different drink in hand. In Mat's was a cheap beer, Pitambara had a glass of lemon water without any ice in it. It was still light out, so the atmosphere felt dark and a bit oppressive in comparison with the bright skies outside and the loud rock music playing made it difficult to even hear himself speak, let alone anybody else in here. Perhaps that's why the man across from the table picked this place.

"Well when you say it like that, it sounds like I'm the bad guy here." Pitambara was wearing a pair of shades that blocked the soft glow of his eyes. "Look, you didn't have to take the deal, and I already explained this a week ago when you were about to have your head irreparably caved in. If I could think of a better way to do this, I would have done it by now." Pitambara's fingers drummed against the glass of the cup, creating little cracks with each pass before repairing them almost instantly as if they were never there.

"I could barely think, let alone able to make binding contracts at the time. You know, if this were a legal contract it would be null and void, right?" Mat took a half-hearted sips of his beer and glanced at the mostly empty pub. There were a couple of daytime drunks, but otherwise it was just the staff and Mat and Pitambara.

"Yeah, well it isn't. Besides, at least I gave you the choice. Demons just take souls and selfishly hoard it to themselves for more power. If I knew how, I'd just give your soul back after we're done. What's important now is you learning to control my power."

"The fixing thing?" Mat asked a bit louder than he had been speaking before as a particularly obnoxious guitar solo started up on the speakers.

"Well, it's more complicated than that, but yes." Pitambara replied, his drumming now directed at the table, which created noticeable indentations into the cheap wood under his fingers before they miraculously filled back in. Either he was doing this on reflex, or he was just showing off. "Your arms are strong and fast now, but that ability allows you to be far more versatile than you could ever imagine. And you're going to need to know how to use it effectively if we're going to be taking down demons. Not all of them are giant pushovers like that cat we fought an hour ago. I need you, and you need me. After all, if I die, you'll get to feel every moment of it."

"I'm not going to say you've talked me into this, but I'll go along for now. Especially if you're going to follow me around. I can't exactly lock you out of my apartment. I'm not going to call you Pitambara though. So now you're going to be Barry."

"Fuck you." Barry said, briefly crushing the glass in his hand.