I have returned fellow Lost Boys and Girls! Sorry I have been MIA for a while, but here you are my lovelies, a oneshot of Marko's past (in my mind at least). Let me know what you think, and there's a note at the end regarding all of my other stories. Until then, ta ta for now!

What Are Brothers For?

He was running, out of breath, and completely terrified. The dark night sky had led him out to the sandy shores of the Pacific, the waves thrashing about as far as the eye could see. He dare not stop running, or take the faintest glance behind him, knowing what was closely following. On the verge of tears he kept thinking, 'I don't want to die. You are supposed to be dead, this is unreal!'

Laughter: cynical, maniacal laughter ensued behind him. He heard a strange and insistent sound, quiet, and almost smothered out. Looking down he searched for the unseen sound, and with the moonlight shining down on him, the eerie lighting brought his attention to his arm, which was covered in a thick, red liquid. He felt dizzy, now knowing that he was bleeding, and that the sound was almost smothered out by the sand crunching beneath his feet. He was already hurt; an injury he wish he didn't have at the moment, but what he didn't realize was that the blood stained sand made it easier for him to be tracked.

Now pumping off of nothing but adrenalin, he noticed how far he was from civilization. No longer could he see the bright lights of the boardwalk, or hear the squeals of joy from children. Everything was dark, and the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat, growing louder with every passing moment. The laughter had stopped; there was not a sound to be heard. It was silent as the grave. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he stopped running. His legs felt like noodles, and threatened to collapse beneath him. Slowly he turned; no one was behind him. That monster was gone. 'There was no one there? This nightmare is over.'

"It has only just begun." He knew that voice all too well, the voice that taunted his dreams for years. Jerking around he saw him, his brother. Everything was the same, from his curly locks to the biker boots; like he was stuck in time. The only thing that had changed were his eyes; no longer were there innocent sky blue eyes, but ones tinged with red laces, that held a look that could kill. From his smirk he saw the secrecy and curiosity in his little sibling's face.

"This is unreal…you're supposed to be dead!"

With a dark chuckle, the boy asked, "What? Not happy to see me brother?" A Cheshire cat smile was etched into his face, and seemed quite amused. "You know, how fortuitous it is for me to finally find you. I've been searching for years."

Four years prior.

He had been drunk and his brother was home alone. His brother was nothing but a pain to his parents and himself. Never would he leave them alone; he wasn't one for solitude, though he was still an outcast. No, he wasn't involved in sports or became the smartest in the class. This aggravated mother and father, and it was rubbing off on him as well. His younger brother had always been drawing or writing, without a care in the world. This night, he would knock some sense into his younger sibling.

"Time to teach the little brat a lesson." He slurred out to his gang of friends. They had been drinking, and coming upon the house, like always, there the boy sat, on the worn out couch, sketchbook in hand. He had been working on a design for a jacket, colorful and flashy; covered with different patches. Snickering, the gang bust in through the door, and in an instant, they tore the sketch from the hands of the seventeen year-old. It was ripped to shreds, and anger was clear on his little brother's face. Standing up, he rammed into everyone, trying to escape this taunting circle. He laughed at how ludicrous it was for his brother to try to get away. Others helped to hold him down, and he became a punching bag for their dispense. After minutes of torture, they backed off and he stepped forward, staring into the pale eyes of his little brother, finally overcome.

"W-why are you doing this?" his younger brother choked out, pain evident on his face. His curly hair was splayed around his face, and for a moment, the older brother thought he imagined a halo. Quickly shaking it off, he looked back at the boy.

"Why not?" he chuckled, "What are brothers for?" he grinned, and kicked the younger boy in the ribs.

The pain was too overwhelming and the boy was in and out of consciousness. Before he knew it, he was lifted and set into his brother's beat up truck. Surrounded by the drunken tormentors, they drove off. Coming upon the bluff, Hudson's Bluff, they stopped the car. Carrying his younger brother over his shoulder, the older laid him on the rocky land on the edge. The waves thrashed about showing no mercy, and without second thought, he pushed the younger boy off; to plummet down into the drink. He knew this wouldn't be an innocuous fall, but at the moment he didn't care. That's what happened; he was swallowed by the fog down below.

His breathing was rough, and was livid with fear. 'If I could only get to town, I'd be safe.' He thought, looking frantically for escape, coming back to reality.

"How contingent you are with the thought of getting away from me." His brother, now a stranger said smugly. The younger boy advanced, and without registering what was going on he was flipped onto his back, pain shooting down his spine.

"Not as much fun when you are on the other side, huh?" The boy, the monster taunted. He was lifted and swung around like a ragdoll, seeming as light as a feather. How had his younger sibling gotten so strong? After his fun was over, he was thrown onto the cold sand that sent shivers through him. Lifted by his collar, he looked with alarm to his brother, who was clearly enjoying this.

"How?" he croaked, despair filling his tone. "How are you still alive?"

"Well," his brother began "I can thank you for being drunk, because you missed seeing the little ledge dangling out from over the bluff. In the morning they found me there. They were welcoming, and brotherly…some skills you should have learned." He emphasized, scolding his older sibling. "Brother, this is how I felt that night at the bluff." With swift movement, he grabbed an arm and twisted it back. Painful screams ensued, but he wasn't finished yet. Grasping a leg in one hand, the boy easily twisted it until he heard a satisfying pop. All this time he was laughing, without pity or sympathy. Grabbing for the collar of his shirt again, the boy stared into the frightful eyes of the man before him.

"Why are you doing this?" he choked out quietly.

Snickering, the boy said, "Why not? What are brothers for?" as the light faded from his older brother's eyes, the eyes that had had carried his tenacity for four miserable years. With a grin, the boy calmly gathered some wood for a fire, and he lit up the sky with orange flames. Dragging the corpse to the fire, he watched his brother be swallowed into the smoke. Marko just waited and waited, until the fire was dead, and with a final Cheshire grin he made his way back to the cave.

Bam! I have finally edited this bad-boy! Besides that, well, I really want to apologize to all of my readers for not being around, and this year I'm not going to make any promises that I can't hold myself accountable to. Anyways, with that in mind I do plan on updating ALL of my stories within the next couple of weeks. I'm sorry it has taken so long. Still love you guys- Crimsonsky132