Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or any concepts from the movie. Credit goes to the Spierig Brothers. Daybreakers is one of my favorite, most underrated movies. It has so much untapped potential, too. I would love to see a sequel/prequel, and even a TV series. Anyway, this is how I imagine Ed being turned, and I also wanted to go more in-depth with some brotherly moments. I decided to make it a one-shot. Thanks for reading and feel free to leave any comments :)
Dusk loomed menacingly closer as the sun abandoned the world once more. Anxiously, Edward rolled his shoulders in an attempt to ease the tension. His hands ached from gripping the steering wheel too tight. Relax, we can make it, he assured himself. It took him a moment to realize he was still thinking like he wasn't alone, like he still had someone to look out for.
We can make it… I always told you we'd make it, Frankie…
Pent-up emotions once again flooded into his chest and solidified like tar, constricting his throat and making it hard to breathe. Edward swallowed and licked his lips, but his mouth was dry. His eyes, though, were wet. Tears he had been holding back for the past few weeks finally broke free of the dam, spilling down his cheeks. He had numbed himself for the longest time, distracting himself with his work so he had no free time to think. After suppressing the heartache for so long, Edward was finally breaking down.
"No…" he whispered, biting his trembling lip, struggling to reign himself in. He couldn't afford to break down; at least, not until he could lock himself safely in his home to wait out the night. It wasn't safe to be out after dark these days. Despite his attempts to swallow the sobs, Edward decided to pull over before he caused an accident. As if anyone else would be crazy enough to be driving around after dark. Still, he wouldn't risk hurting someone else.
Nervously, he observed his surroundings. The stretch of road wove through an expanse of woods, leading toward the suburbs where he lived. He was still a few miles away from the safety of his home. The surrounding trees were dark as the shadows took over, cowering only from the beams of his headlights as he passed before creeping back. Only an hour remained before the sun finished its descent.
With dread twisting his gut, Edward took his foot off the gas—only then realizing he was speeding—and steered his car to the side of the road. Braking, he shifted the gear into park and dropped his hands limply into his lap. While he stared down at his palms, a memory drifted from the distant recesses of his brain; a ghost of the past returning to haunt him. A bittersweet moment from a life he'd never see again. The first memory was of a warm summer afternoon, walking the beach with his little brother, Frankie. At the time, Frankie was ten and Edward had recently turned nineteen.
The younger boy grabbed Edward's hand, tugging him toward the waves while he awkwardly held a boogie-board under his arm. His sandy blonde hair was shaggy then, wild from hours of swimming. He was still full of energy. "Come on, Ed! Let's see who can ride the biggest wave!"
Edward chuckled to himself as he let the smaller boy drag him along the dunes. The sand was hot beneath his feet, but he didn't mind it. Frankie loved the beach, the sun, and the waves; almost as much as he loved dragging his big brother everywhere he went. Frankie was the youngest, but he was the most outgoing. Not to mention, the pushiest.
"Wait, Frankie," Edward told him, resisting the smaller boy's pull, which he rarely did. "I wanted to give you something, first."
Frankie had started to pout when Edward resisted, but hearing those words made his big eyes light up. "What is it?" he asked eagerly, almost jumping up and down with excitement like an even younger child would do.
Edward pulled something from the pocket of his swim-trunks, holding it up so his little brother could see. It was a shell necklace, with two shark teeth threaded among the tiny shells. Edward placed it into the younger boy's hands, smiling as he saw the joy in his eyes. "I bought this when you weren't looking," he explained. "I won't be around forever. I'm going to college, and we might not see each other as often as I'd like. Just remember, I'll always be there for you, Franklin. No matter what happens, we'll always be brothers. I love you, Frankie."
Frankie's round eyes were sparkling as he held the necklace. When he looked up, Edward realized his eyes were flooded with tears. Before he could ask what was wrong, the younger boy threw his arms around him so tight Edward had to bite back a grunt of pain. The kid was stronger than he looked, especially when he was emotional. Instead of trying to struggle free, Edward hugged him back. He didn't say another word, he just held his little brother, treasuring the last day they had together before he left for college.
The next memory that Edward relived was far less sweet. Recovering from the last fit of sobs, he covered his mouth, staring out the windshield as the last rays of sunlight died. A different kind of pain filled his chest and fresh tears stung his eyes.
The sound of his backdoor creaking open made Edward jolt out of his armchair. His blue eyes widened as he stood in his living room, listening to the footsteps of the intruder who made no attempt to hide his presence. After watching all the reports from the news, detailing the numerous attacks and latest updates on the vampire outbreak, Edward was shaking. He shook so badly he almost fell over his coffee table in the scramble for his gun. He had never been the kind of man to resort to violence. He had always opted for reason instead of relying on his fists to do the talking. But, during times like these, Edward decided to invest in some protection. Still, as the gun shook in his hands, he doubted he could pull the trigger, even if someone had broken into his house…
Broken in…That's what happened, right? Edward specifically remembered locking every single door and window in his home. Yet he heard nothing like someone kicking the door down. It simply opened, like someone had used a key to unlock it. Which was impossible; he kept his spare key in his car, under the dash. His car keys were in the dish on his counter, right where he always put them. The only other spare key belonged to Frankie; the estranged brother he hadn't heard from since the outbreak began.
Not too long ago, Frankie had enlisted in the military. The last thing he told Edward was he and his team had been deployed to Afghanistan, where the outbreak had turned the place into not just a war-zone, but a blood-bath. An entire month had passed since Edward heard from his brother. He had no idea if Franklin was alive. Which begged the question; who was intruding in Edward's home?
His wide blue eyes searched the shadows beyond the reach of the single lamp in his living room. The light barely touched the far wall, before it faded into the blackness of his kitchen. Edging his way around the wall, Edward stopped there, unable to advance any further without casting himself into the dark. He couldn't see through the thick shadow, but the hair standing up on his arms and neck told him something was lurking there.
"I…I know you're there!" Edward finally called, breaking the silence. He pointed his gun at the shadows, trying not to shake but failing miserably. He hoped the intruder could be reasoned with. If not, he would be just another body for the news to report.
"Just get out of my house! I don't want anyone to get hurt. Please, just go, and I won't call the police!"
A scoffing sound came from the shadows, followed by a dry laugh. "So, this is the welcome home party I get," a familiar voice said caustically.
Edward caught his breath, hardly able to believe his ears. The sound of his little brother's voice made his heart swell, while all of the tension left his body. Letting out a shaky laugh, Edward lowered the gun he never planned to fire. While his heart still pumped adrenaline from the scare, he ran a hand through his dark hair; it was still wet from his recent shower.
"Damn it, Frankie," Edward scolded him with brotherly exasperation and unhindered fondness. "You should learn how to knock on the front door, you know. Things are crazy right now."
"Yeah, I know. Things are crazy everywhere," Frankie replied with a strange, listless tone to his voice. He sounded nothing like his chipper self.
"Frankie," Edward said with a frown, his brows furrowing at the shadows of the kitchen. He took a step forward and leaned closer, trying to peer into the dark to get a look at his brother. Why was he lurking in the dark like that? Something about his behavior unnerved Edward, so much that he refused to take another step. He felt a lot…well, safer, in the light of the living room lamp. He knew when his brother was acting aloof, it meant something was wrong. Cautiously, he asked, "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, yeah…I'm just still adjusting," Frankie replied vaguely, his voice still holding that strange monotone, as if he was talking in his sleep. The way he said the word "adjusting" sent a chill through Edward. He wasn't just talking about recovering from the trauma of being in a war-zone.
"When did you get back?" Edward asked, hating that he couldn't look his brother in the eyes after they've been apart so long. A thousand questions bounced around in his mind, all demanding answers for his own sanity. He had almost driven himself mad with worry. Many sleepless nights and wine-induced drunken stupors had wreaked havoc on his work life. He was laid off, which only gave him more time to sit in his brother's empty room upstairs, playing over every possible scenario that could explain why he hadn't heard from Frankie. After all that grief, his brother was in his kitchen, acting like he was a stranger.
Frankie was silent for a long moment, only breaking his silence to heave a sigh. His hesitation meant he knew the answer would upset his big brother. At last, he said tonelessly, "A month."
Edward felt his jaw fall open. The answer was like a punch to his stomach. "What?" he choked in disbelief. His shock turned into frustration. "You've been back…the whole time I—," he cut himself off. He was a loss for words and unsure if he should go into too much detail about his mental deterioration. Pressing his hand to his face, he closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, trying to hold it together. When he calmed himself, he reached his free hand toward the dark, hoping Frankie was at least standing in front of him so he didn't look like an idiot.
"Frankie, enough hiding. Come out here and talk, please."
"Uh, no, I'm good right here," Frankie responded stubbornly, his dull voice picking up a slightly panicked tone.
Edward gave him the look that told him he wasn't going to take no for an answer. "I want to see your face. I'm not going to keep talking to the dark."
"I really don't think that's a good—"
"Come out, or just leave," Edward interrupted, his voice becoming harsh as his patience reached its end. His hand gestured toward the back door, emphasizing his seriousness. He couldn't believe his brother was back and chose not to visit for an entire month. Edward wouldn't say it, but that hurt him. Whatever his brother went through, Edward wanted to be there to pick up the pieces. He never would've pictured his big-eyed little brother in uniform, but he supported his decision. He made Frankie promise to come to him for anything. What did he see? What did he do, that made him so ashamed he couldn't step out of the dark?
"Fine. Have it your way," Frankie responded with a sharp tone, clinging to his defiant attitude while inevitably submitting to his older brother. There was the sound of his boots planting on the floor as he dropped down from the counter, where he had been sitting all along. Striding forward, he finally stepped into the dim light that reached from the living room. Two golden orbs flashed in the dark, before the light illuminated a pale face.
Gasping, Edward staggered backwards, compelled to retreat by pure instinctual fear. The younger man standing in his kitchen couldn't be his brother. Those weren't his brother's eyes! After the momentary panic clouding his mind passed, Edward recognized him and wished with all of his soul it wasn't his brother. He wore street clothes; a simple black t-shirt underneath a black leather jacket. The contrast only made his pale skin look paler.
"What happened to you," Edward asked him in dismay. If he didn't know better, if he hadn't been watching the news about all the vampire attacks, he wouldn't have believed his eyes. Actually, he still had a hard time processing it. His brother couldn't be a vampire. He couldn't be…
Scoffing, Frankie turned his face away. He shook his head while a bitter smirk tugged his lips. "I knew you'd react like this," he said, looking annoyed. His inhuman gold eyes glanced down toward Edward's hand, narrowing dangerously. "You planning to shoot me?" he asked with a grimace on his face.
Edward realized he had raised his gun again without really thinking. Seeing the look on his brother's face, the hurt and the anger boiling beneath the surface, Edward dropped the gun to the carpet and held his hands up in surrender. Of course he would never shoot his little brother.
"Frankie, when did this happen? Who did this to you?"
His gold eyes fixed on Edward so intensely he had to resist the urge to back away. Shaking his head, Frankie explained, "No one did this to me, Ed. I chose to change, alright? Jake, my bunk mate, did the honors—it was this, or end up as a snack for the insurgents. Sorry for not dying with the rest of my team."
Edward felt his shoulders slump as he looked at his brother, noticing the fangs protruding from his gums as he spoke. A chilling thought occurred to him. Had he used those fangs on anyone, yet? Had he killed someone, had he drank their blood?
"Frankie…" he whispered, unable to speak any louder otherwise his voice would break. He placed a foot forward, about to go pull his brother into a hug, but something stopped him. There was a cold, sick feeling in his stomach that could only be fear.
Frankie hung his head, nodding while the rest of his body was tense; a clear sign he was about to break down. When he lifted his head, there were tears in his eyes. The only thing that remained of his humanity was the love he had for his brother. "You're afraid of me. Don't lie and say you're not; I can smell it. You know, this is exactly why I stayed away. Because I knew you would hate me for this."
Edward opened his mouth to protest, but Frankie suddenly slammed his fists against the island. The sudden movement and sound made Edward jump. His heart was pounding violently; it was impossible to quell his fear. Words failed him and he could only stare wide-eyed at his brother.
"Don't worry, Ed. I won't bother you ever again."
Before Edward could say a word to stop him, Frankie stormed out of the room. The sound of the back door slamming made Edward flinch. Alone again, he staggered back to his armchair, slumping down. For the rest of the night, he sat there staring blankly at the wall. No tears fell from his eyes. His heart didn't ache. All he felt was an empty hole in his chest. His brother was gone.
Resting his forehead against the steering wheel, Edward stared down at his clenched fists. He had been so stupid. Why didn't he go after Frankie? He should have pulled him into a hug and held him, without needing to say a single word. Frankie had come to him, hoping for the support he was promised. Instead, Edward pointed a gun at him like he was a monster. Maybe he was a vampire, but he was still his little brother. Frankie was the only family he had left in the world, and now he was gone. Edward had promised to protect him, but he failed…
Glass shattered around him, interrupting his depressing thoughts. Edward cried out in alarm as he shielded his face from the glass, rendering him temporarily blind and helpless. A throaty growl came from outside the broken window as strong hands seized hold of his shoulder and arm. Snapping his eyes open, Edward had only a brief moment to study his attacker. A boy who couldn't be older than seventeen snarled at him, fangs bared and red eyes glaring at him with bloodlust.
"Shit!" Edward cursed, struggling to push the kid off. The vampire yanked his arm in an attempt to drag him out of the car through the window. Edward fought against his strength, but his grip only tightened to the point where the bones in his forearm began to crack. A scream of pain escaped Edward, who immediately regretted the decision to not only pull over, but to unbuckle his seatbelt. The vampire kid reached in for his other shoulder, tugging him further out of the car.
Lifted off his seat, Edward was already half-way out the window. He kicked his legs, trying to hook onto the steering wheel, but the vampire kid was much faster and stronger. With an animalistic shout, somewhere between a battle cry and beastly snarl, the vampire kid pulled him out of the car and threw him to the ground.
Coughing as the breath was pounded from his chest, Edward couldn't move until he caught his breath. He had landed on his chest, which made his face hit the ground. Gravel cut into his cheek and brow, but the sting was nothing compared to the searing pain of his forearm. The bones weren't snapped clean, but splintered like toothpicks. The pain was blinding. Holding the injured arm to his chest, he tried to push himself up with one arm, but he didn't make it to his feet.
The vampire kid pounced on him, digging one knee into his back. Edward almost fell face-first again, but managed to hold himself up. It made no difference, though; he couldn't defend himself in this position. Strong fingers grabbed hold of his hair and he cried out as his head was yanked back. The muscles in his neck were stretched tight, bringing tears of pain to his eyes. His throat was exposed and he couldn't move without injuring himself. In that moment, he felt completely hopeless. All the will to go on died and he closed his eyes, praying that the vampire would drain him completely so he wouldn't turn.
He waited for the teeth to pierce his flesh, but that didn't happen. Instead, he heard the sound of three gunshots. The vampire kid screeched as the first hit him, but the second or third killed him, because he collapsed to the ground and burst into flame. Edward slumped to the ground, resting his cheek there. His eyes remained closed. He heard boots crunching across the gravel toward him, but that was the last thing he was aware of before he passed out.
Groaning, Edward regained consciousness in a state of confusion. His eyes opened to dim light; a single lamp was lit, illuminating the familiar surroundings of his living room. Licking his lips to wet them, he was disappointed to find his mouth dry and the coppery taste of blood on his tongue. His lip was split, and the whole right side of his face was sore. Lifting a hand, he gingerly fingered the butterfly-stitches on his eyebrow and cheekbone. When he went to use his other arm to push himself up on the couch, the pain made his vision go black.
"Ed," a voice called to him through the ringing in his ears, sounding muffled and distant.
Edward opened his eyes again to see his brother leaning over him, peering into his face with concerned gold eyes. A cold hand patted his good cheek, trying to keep him awake. "Ed, don't black out again, please," he implored, as if the man had any control over that.
"What happened?" he asked hoarsely, barely able to hear himself. He recalled clocking out of work and getting into his car, in a rush to beat the dusk, but after that his memory was fuzzy.
Frankie heard him just fine with his vampire ears, because he avoided the question. "Come on, I'll help you sit up," he said, placing a hand between his shoulder blades to push him up, while pulling his other arm. When Edward was supported by the pillows, Frankie backed off a little, giving him some space. After putting off the question, he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "You were attacked," he answered bluntly, offering no details. Then his expression hardened as he demanded, "What the hell were you doing, parked on the side of the road like that? After dark, of all times!"
Edward avoided his gaze, casting his eyes down to look at his arm. It was wrapped between two rods, and secured in a sling that kept it stable against his chest. His hands were covered in small cuts, triggering the memory of glass shattering around him. "Did I go to the hospital?" he asked instead of answering his brother's question, not entirely eager to admit he was having an emotional breakdown before the attack.
Frankie folded his arms, looking a bit insulted. He scowled, clearly in a bad mood after what happened beside the road. He was disgusted with his big brother for being reckless, which was ironic. "You think I don't know how to deal with broken bones?" he challenged, lifting his chin as if daring Edward to question his judgement and criticize his work.
The impending argument made Edward's temple throb. Sighing, he carefully rubbed his forehead and tried not to agitate his cuts. "You saved me?" he asked, wondering why the revelation surprised him.
"You sound so grateful," Frankie remarked caustically, his shoulders tensing as he battled his temper. He wore the smirk he used to mask his anger, which only made him look scarier. "What? Should I have just let him kill you? Sorry for interrupting your suicide attempt."
"Suicide attempt?" Edward repeated, shaking his head. Mulling over the words, he wondered if they were true. After all, he knew the risks of staying out at night, but in hindsight he realized he didn't care anymore. When he pulled over on that dark, lonely road, he abandoned the responsibility he had to himself to stay alive. In all honesty, Edward stopped giving a damn about himself the moment Frankie stormed out that night.
"Yeah. Why else would you stay out past sun down?" Frankie shook his head at him, disgusted and in disbelief. Wiping his mouth, he looked away, running his hand over his close-shaved head. "You're a mess, Ed. You think I just left and disappeared?" he asked as he lifted his eyes from the floor, looking at his older brother with pain clear on his face. "You think the whole month I was back before, that I didn't look out for you? Way to have faith in me, big brother. Oh, that's right—I'm a monster now, so I don't have any feelings."
"I don't think that," Edward told him quietly. Listening to how wounded his brother was, he felt like an asshole. The outbreak had reached epidemic proportions. All over the world, people were dying, and countless others were being infected and joining the ranks of vampires who wreaked havoc on the public. Just last week, Edward heard about what the media called 'mass assimilations'. Dozens of people of all ages rallied at pre-designated locations such as parks or abandoned houses; not to party, but to be turned into vampires. It was madness. During all the madness, Edward battled with his own guilt. His brother had been forced to become one of them, to survive. The world was changing at a frightening pace, and while Edward refused to let go of his humanity so easily, he feared only one thing more than turning; losing Frankie.
Standing at a distance from his injured brother, Frankie was actually pouting like a sullen child. He had his hands shoved into the pockets of his pale gray hoodie, appearing casual as a defense, hiding how raw he really was. Despite how dangerous he was with a gun and the fact his fists could demolish a face, underneath his fierce military exterior his heart was bleeding.
Unable to take the distance between them anymore, Edward held his one good arm out to his brother. "Come here," he told him, but he didn't need to, because Frankie was already throwing his arms around him. Unlike some brothers, Edward never teased Frankie for crying. He just let him bury his face against his shoulder, not caring about the tears soaking into his shirt.
"I'm sorry," Edward told him quietly, giving the back of his neck a comforting squeeze. In that moment, all his anxiety vanished. He was exhausted and sick of resisting. He just wanted to close his eyes and hold his brother.
"Me too, Ed," Frankie replied, his voice muffled against his shoulder. Sniffling, he took a deep breath and let it out again. Vampires didn't have to breathe like humans did; it was more of a ritual, a way to express emotion, than anything. Then he dropped his cold hand from Edward's shoulder. Thinking the hug was over, Edward loosened his arms from around his brother. To his confusion, Frankie didn't pull away. Instead, he shifted his position, resting his knee on the couch beside Edward so he wasn't hunching over. He braced one hand on the arm of the couch behind Edward's head, while his forehead still rested on his shoulder. His face was tilted aside, hiding his expression.
Disheartened by his strange behavior, Edward leaned slightly away to get a better look at him. "Frankie, are you alright?" he asked, his voice still hoarse and wavering. He needed a drink of water and a long night's sleep.
"No," he answered with blunt honesty. His eyes were downcast and his chin almost rested against his chest. His pensive silence, deceptively-calm stillness, and the way he loomed over Edward sent a chill crawling down his spine.
Despite the cold sweat breaking across his brow, Edward did his best not to cower. If he wanted to get along with his brother, he would have to accept him for the vampire he was. Without trust, what kind of brothers would they be? Warily, he asked, "What's wrong?"
Tears slipped from his nose onto Edward's shirt. Shaking his head, still keeping his eyes down, Frankie said in dismay, "I can't let you do it."
Before Edward could ask what he meant, his eyes suddenly locked onto him with fierce determination. The intensity of his stare triggered an instinctual reaction from Edward. His arm lifted up as a shield between him and his brother, the only defense he had. His eyes asked the question he couldn't force from his parched throat. Why are you looking at me like that?
"You're going to get yourself killed, Ed," Frankie elaborated, his intent gold stare unrelenting. Shaking his head, he narrowed his eyes and added rigidly, "I won't let you do that."
Those words chilled Edward as he knew exactly what it meant. His hand flew out to plant on his brother's chest, just in time to fend off a lunge. "No!" he cried as he struggled to push him back. The fangs bared inches from his throat were far more terrifying than the vampire kid who attacked him earlier. His worst nightmare had come to life, now that he had to fight for his humanity...against his own brother.
Edward fought desperately, but he was no match for a trained soldier who never needed vampire strength to overpower him. Frankie wrestled his arm aside without breaking a sweat. If he wanted, he could just rip his arm off, but instead he pinned it to the cushion beneath them. His eyes resembled the fierce glare of a ravenous wolf, as he locked onto Edward's throat.
"Frankie!" Edward pleaded, his expression conveying all the terror and hurt he felt. He willed his brother to look at him, to listen to reason. "Please, don't do this. I'd rather die!"
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because Frankie remained silent. He tore his eyes from his brother's throat to study his face. The determination burning in his eyes didn't waver. His mind was dead-set on his objective. He was no longer susceptible to reason. He had decided what was best for Edward, and nothing could convince him otherwise.
His cold hand grabbed onto Edward's chin, forcing his head to the side. Without any further warning, he lunged and sank his fangs into the flesh of his neck. The bite was far from gentle, forcing a cry of pain from Edward. Blood seeped into the front of his shirt, but Frankie bit down harder, as if he had forgotten who exactly he was sinking his fangs into. It was like he didn't care about anything but the blood. The playful boy he had been that summer day, laughing as he jumped into the waves, basking in the warmth of the sun… that boy was gone. He had become nothing but a bloodthirsty monster as he clung to Edward, drinking the life from him.
Struggling became impossible as his strength faded. Giving up, Edward let his head slump back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. The grunts and gulps of the feeding vampire faded away, as Edward drifted into a state of half-consciousness.
In the dark oblivion between life and death, he contemplated which pain was the most unbearable. The mind-numbing, searing pain of the teeth anchored into his neck, or the soul-crushing despair of the ultimate betrayal...