My favorite thing about this movie? The different possibilities for a character's backstory. :) I just got this idea randomly one day while fantasizing -- I mean, thinking about Dwayne, and more importantly, his relationship with Laddie. I tried really hard to keep everyone in character with this, and I would love to hear what you think, especially since my last Lost Boys fic was two years ago.

HOLE IN MY SOUL
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It was one of those times when Dwayne was alone -- it was rare, considering it was usually him and Paul that did everything together, but it did happen. The sun would be rising in close to an hour, and Dwayne could feel the fatigue coming on, the drained feeling vampires felt just before they went to sleep.

The only thing that kept him out was the smell of blood -- someone was injured nearby, maybe even dying. And Dwayne was the kind of guy who figured a free meal was a good one. Half the fun might've been the thrill of the chase most of the time, but everyone got lazy.

He followed his nose, and he came upon the victim with ease. He could feel the person's fading lifeforce, hear the slow drum of their heart. It was so enticing, so exciting. Until he got closer.

There was a bicycle -- bent slightly, pretty banged up -- a few feet away, and a little boy was lying on his back in the road. His skin was almost paper-white, his body limp, and there was a pool of blood forming beneath him, coming from multiple wounds. The kid couldn't have been more than eight -- who lets their eight-year-old ride his bike at four in the morning? -- and Dwayne suspected a hit and run.

The boy's blood smelled so sweet; made Dwayne's mouth water. But he was struck with a sudden memory...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"No!" his voice sounded foreign, even to himself.

He watched as his younger brother fell to the ground, little Tommy who was trying to grow his hair out so he could be more like Dwayne. The gunshot hadn't been as loud as he would've thought. And there was so much blood. Tommy didn't move.

Dwayne turned to the masked man who'd been attempting to rob them, but before he could even think to do anything, there was another deafening crack, and white-hot pain seared through Dwayne's body. He fell slowly to the pavement, clutching at the wound in his stomach.

Footsteps announced that the robber had run away, and Dwayne tried to move -- it hurt too much of course, it felt like his body was on fire. Even turning his head was too much work for him, but he needed to see Tommy. Was he okay? Was he moving?

Neither. He was just lying there, bleeding from his chest.

A noise left Dwayne, a pained groan. He closed his eyes, though this did nothing to block out the image that'd already been burned into his memory. He suddenly felt a presence though, and he weakly opened his eyes.

A man stood over him, couldn't have been too much older, icy blue eyes and a black coat. He studied Dwayne for what felt like an eternity -- Dwayne's vision started to blur around the edges, started to darken. The last thing he saw while he was alive, was the blond stranger bending towards him...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The night the two most important things in Dwayne's life happened; his kid brother died, and he met David. Blinking away the images in his mind, Dwayne looked back down at the little boy before him. So unlike Tommy, but yet so similar. A hollow sort of feeling came to Dwayne, and he acted without thinking, acted on impulse.

He bent down and scooped the boy up into his arms. He hadn't been able to save Tommy, but maybe this time would be different. He didn't know what the others would think when he brought the kid back with him, but he didn't have much time to contemplate -- the sky was already starting to lighten.

The boy's fingers curled into Dwayne's jacket slightly -- he was so helpless and weak, Dwayne just couldn't leave him there.

It was Marko who saw him first as he entered the lair with the injured boy.

"Ohh, what's this? A midnight snack?"

Dwayne curled his lip at the smaller vampire, his grip tightening on the boy. "Don't even think about it," he growled, before he turned, his gaze seeking out David.

Their leader was sitting in a big chair, looking very much like a king on his throne, and his expression was blank, his eyes hard. His legs were stretched out in front of him, his hands folded on his stomach as he stared.

"David," Dwayne neared him slowly, but paused. He didn't know what else to say, he barely knew what he was doing.

The blond blinked lazily, but said nothing. Paul moved to stand beside him, looking curiously at the little boy, and even more curiously at Dwayne. Silence fell over them, the sound of the torches flickering seeming to intensify for a few moments. The little boy let out the briefest of pained noises, and Dwayne lowered his gaze to him.

He could hear the boy's heart beat, slow and faltering -- he was slipping. His blood was everywhere, Dwayne noticed for the first time, and normally he might've let his lust control him. But this time was different -- the idea of feeding on this little boy repulsed Dwayne, made him feel like the monster his kind were made out to be.

He looked back up. "David, please," he said, the hints of desperation on the edge of his tone.

David suddenly moved, looking like a statue coming to life. He straightened in his chair, giving a deep, almost weary, sigh. He licked his lips, then asked very slowly, "What is it you want from me, Dwayne?"

Star appeared suddenly, behind David, looking angelic as always, especially with the loose-fitting, white dress she wore, her dark hair flowing about her face. Her gaze fell upon the little boy, and the shortest of noises left her throat as her hands went to her mouth. Dwayne looked down at the kid again, then at David, not knowing exactly what to say. His mouth opened, closed, opened, and closed again, and he shook his head.

"He's dying," Dwayne said. "He's only a kid, man."

"Not mine," David said coolly, leaning forward slightly, his frigid eyes seeming to cut right through him. "Not yours either, as far as I know."

Now it was Dwayne who uttered a short noise in his throat, and he couldn't believe what he was doing. He was practically blubbering, crying his eyes out, over some boy he didn't know. But once more, his mind jumped to his brother, Tommy. God, what he would've given to have been able to save him.

"David," he said again, keeping his gaze pointed at the floor, "You don't understand."

"Explain it to me."

"I can't," Dwayne said. "Just do this for me, please."

"What do I get in return?" David sounded so conversational, as if they were discussing a mere trade of baseball cards or something.

"My fealty!" Dwayne exclaimed, baring his teeth.

Nothing. David was smirking now, but still only staring at him. Hours seemed to pass -- Dwayne listened to the boy's heart, listened to the blood flowing through his veins, for what seemed like an eternity.

"David," Star said, voice muffled from behind her hands, tone as pleading as Dwayne's. He'd always thought Star's gentle and soft-hearted nature was annoying -- now he couldn't have been more grateful for it.

David didn't look at her, but his smirk faded quickly. His gaze finally dropped from Dwayne's face, landing on the kid. A mix of emotions passed over David's face before he stood up, glaring daggers. Dwayne stepped back slightly, bowing his head, and it did exactly what he'd wanted it to -- made David realize that he wasn't trying to step on his toes.

Their leader walked away, but he returned not too long after holding it, the bottle. He tossed it to Dwayne, who barely had enough time to catch it in one hand, while still holding onto the little boy with his other.

"You probably won't be able to save him," David said shortly. "It's too late, Dwayne."

Not waiting for a response, David turned on his heel and walked away again. He didn't come back this time. Sighing, Dwayne slowly lowered the little boy to lay him on the floor. Star rushed forward, dropping to her knees beside the kid, and cradling his head, while Dwayne looked at the bottle.

He raised his gaze some, and he found that both Marko and Paul were staring at him. He narrowed his eyes at them, fighting the urge to show his teeth, and Paul only crossed his arms over his chest, neither of them blinking. Dwayne turned back to the little boy, and Star looked up at him.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked him.

"Positive," he answered, popping the top off the bottle.

The smell of the blood mixed with the little boy's, and Dwayne slowly lowered the bottle to the kid's mouth, while Star held his head up. At the feeling of the cool glass against his lips, the boy's eyelids fluttered, almost opening, and he twitched slightly.

"Drink this, little buddy," Dwayne said softly, "You'll feel better, I promise."

Who would say no to that? The boy's lips parted, and Dwayne tilted the bottle. Fortunately, the kid had no trouble swallowing, though he did cringe slightly at the taste. Dwayne straightened, putting the lid carefully back on the bottle, and he noticed that Paul and Marko had disappeared. Setting the bottle aside, he turned back to the little boy.

"Do you think this will work?" Star asked quietly, smoothing the boy's longish hair away from his sweaty face.

Dwayne nodded, but said nothing. Star glanced up at him, and he felt her study him for a few moments. He kept his gaze averted.

"What?" he asked dryly.

"Nothing," she said, though she didn't look away. "Just trying to figure you out."

Dwayne rolled his eyes, and looked around. Still not looking at her, he jerked his head, gesturing across the room.

"Can I put him in your bed?" he asked gruffly.

Star nodded easily, not seeming to care about the mess that would no doubt come from a bloodied boy in her bed. Dwayne climbed swiftly to his feet, bending to pick the boy up once more.

As he carried him quickly to the bed, Star stayed where she was. Dwayne laid the child down, then stood straight, running both hands through his teased hair, forgetting for the moment that crimson stained his fingers. He felt very awkward all of a sudden. He felt stupid and idiotic, and just a touch embarrassed for carrying on like he had.

But even he couldn't have watched the boy die. Not after watching his brother...

He reached down and pushed the boy's hair back like Star had done -- the kid's face was still contorted in pain, but he was unconscious.

"It's okay," Dwayne said on an undertone, not even realizing that he was speaking, "You're gonna be okay... Tommy."

If Star heard, she didn't say anything.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

He didn't talk much.

His name was Laddie, or at least that's what it'd sounded like, and that's what they'd taken to calling him. The only person he ever really said anything besides 'yeah' or 'no' to was Star, probably because she'd been the only one there when he finally woke up after drinking from the bottle. Kind of like the way baby animals will assume the first thing they see is its mother.

Disappointment was an understatement for Dwayne.

"Stop asking him all those questions."

Star looked up -- she had Laddie sitting on her bed, and she was kneeling before him, holding onto his legs. She'd been talking softly to him again, getting him to nod or shake his head to her questions. Her brow furrowed, and she stood slowly.

"Why?" she asked Dwayne.

He didn't look up from what he was doing -- picking at his fingernails -- and he shrugged one shoulder, giving a light scoff. "All these questions about his family, where he's from, all that happy horse shit," he said. "Just knock it off. He can't go back, it's best to just not bring it up."

Star paused thoughtfully, then lowered her gaze. Laddie looked at her curiously, then at Dwayne. He said nothing, of course.

"I was only curious about him," Star said.

"He's with us now," Dwayne said, "He doesn't need to remember anything from his life before."

"So you've completely forgotten your past?" she was sarcastic and skeptical, her chin raised some.

"It's different," Dwayne said, narrowing his eyes at her. "I'm an adult."

She wasn't convinced, but she couldn't reply, because David had suddenly entered the room. David had that kind of power -- the minute he appeared, he could hush you into silence without a single word -- it just radiated off of him. David looked between the three of them, gaze passing over Laddie none-too-nicely, and he settled on Star.

"Get dressed," he said. "We're going out."

"Can Laddie come?" Star asked, the question Dwayne had been too wary to ask. The poor kid had barely left the cave since his arrival.

David stared at her, then turned to leave. "I don't care," he said over his shoulder, before he disappeared.

Dwayne glanced down at what he was wearing, and after straightening his jacket, he nodded at Star. "Don't make us wait too long," he said.

She rolled her eyes, and he started towards the exit. Outside, David, Paul and Marko were waiting -- David was already sitting on his running bike, looking bored, and while Marko sat on his as well, Paul was standing. The night Dwayne had first brought Laddie to the cave, the others had looked at him like there was something wrong with him, but they were good enough friends that they'd never said anything.

And now Paul and Marko seemed to have forgotten how weak Dwayne had been, how silly he'd acted. But every now and then, David would study Dwayne with an unreadable expression -- sometimes Dwayne feared what David was thinking.

Dwayne got on his bike as well, swinging a leg over it casually, and Paul passed him one of his trademark grins, the one that said he thought they were gonna have fun that night. Dwayne had always liked Paul's attitude -- happy-go-lucky, optimistic, cocky -- it took a lot to bring Paul down. Unless your name was David, then it only took a little, but David could do that to anyone.

Moments later, Star appeared with Laddie trailing. She was glammed up for the boardwalk, and Laddie was sporting the new jacket that Dwayne had brought him -- he'd stolen it off of some kid, but it looked better on Laddie anyway. Star glanced at Dwayne as she neared David's bike, and she turned back to Laddie, pointing.

"Ride with Dwayne," she told him lightly.

Dwayne turned slightly to see Laddie look at him. He gave the kid a little smirk, nodding his head in a little gesture. Laddie looked back to Star who nodded, and after a second or two, the boy neared Dwayne's bike.

"Come on, little buddy," Dwayne said, using one arm to help Laddie onto the back of his motorbike.

As Star slid easily behind David, her hands going to his hips, Paul hopped onto his own bike. David looked around at all of them, one of his eyebrows quirked.

"Everybody all set?" he asked, tone dry and full of irritation. Without waiting for a response from any of them, he was gone.

Marko let out what could only be called a battle cry, and he too was gone, speeding away. Paul and Dwayne started their bikes at the same time, and Dwayne threw a quick glance over his shoulder at Laddie.

"Hold on," he said, all but yelling over the roar from the motorbikes, and Laddie obliged, balling his fists in Dwayne's jacket.

It wasn't the last time Laddie would ride with Dwayne -- much to the older vampire's surprise, Laddie started to warm up to him after that. By the end of the week, when they all left to go visit the crowded boards, Laddie would climb onto Dwayne's bike without being told. He still seemed to prefer Star over Dwayne, but it was a start, right?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dwayne didn't know how to get him started.

Sometimes he wished he'd thought things through before helping Laddie drink from the bottle. He didn't really think the kid had it in him to make his first kill, but if he didn't do it soon, he'd probably go crazy.

Sometimes the lust showed in Star too. Sometimes her eyes would get this dazed look in them, they'd start to glow, and she'd stare off into nothing. She always caught herself, though it seemed like a real chore -- in no time, Dwayne was sure Laddie would suffer too.

He could see it when Laddie tried to eat normal food, human food. No matter how much he ate, there was always going to be a feeling of empty hunger inside of him. The food was bland and tasteless when you were dead, and the only reason Dwayne and the others ate it was out of habit. Kind of like smoking or drinking -- as a vampire you barely got any enjoyment out of it, it was just something to do.

Dwayne couldn't explain why he felt the need to do what he did, he supposed he just couldn't bare to see Laddie -- who still reminded him so much of Tommy -- undergo such torture.

They were in an alley, he and the boys, where they'd lured a couple of druggies -- the fiends would do anything for whatever smack they were getting off on that week -- and Dwayne had just gotten his fill of one of them, whose limp body was on the ground, throat torn out and blood pooling from the wound.

Pulling out a small flask he'd brought with him, Dwayne figured he'd kill two birds with one stone, and he bent to fill it with the druggie's blood. All of a sudden, he was against one of the brick walls, and David was holding him by the collar of his jacket. The flask had dropped from his hand before he'd known what was happening.

"No," was all David said, his lips bright red, blood sliding down his chin. His eyes were glowing dangerously, and though Dwayne could've put up a good fight, he knew not to.

"David --"

"I won't allow you to carry him," David hissed. "He'll have to make his kill when he's ready."

"He's just a kid," Dwayne said, shifting against the wall.

David moved forward slightly, pushing one of his forearms into Dwayne's throat tightly, and locking him against the warm bricks. "Maybe you should've thought of that before," the blond said. "If he won't do it himself --"

"He'll die!"

"And you'll sit back and watch it," David's tone was menacing, and the pressure being applied on Dwayne's neck was starting to feel like too much, almost as if David planned on taking Dwayne's head clean off. "Do I make myself clear?"

Dwayne didn't answer right away, just staring into David's eyes. But you never try and have a staring contest with the devil himself, do you? Dwayne lowered his gaze.

"Crystal," he said, not masking the anger in his tone.

When David stepped back, Dwayne noticed that Marko and Paul were standing at the opening of the alleyway, their backs turned. He was glad they'd walked away, as he felt humiliated again. David glared at him for another minute or so, before he started towards the others.

Dwayne glanced down at the bodies they were leaving for the dogs, and he had to fight the urge to go against David's orders. But instead, he turned towards the mouth of the alley, and on his way out, he gave one of the bodies a hard kick, twisting the head all the way around.

Who said life got easier when you died?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dwayne didn't like Michael. Not one damn bit.

But Star certainly did, she practically fawned all over him. David was either too blind with arrogance, or he didn't particularly care. He seemed to like Michael as well though, seemed to think he had something in common with them. To hell with that. Dwayne would've much rather seen Michael go over the edge of that damn cliff.

Michael may have put up with their jokes, might've drank from the bottle, and shoot, he even followed them off of the bridge. But that would never make him one of them. He looked at Michael the way David looked at Laddie -- and this is why Dwayne had to keep quiet. Who was he to decide who drank from the bottle? It wasn't even his blood.

So Dwayne just kept his mouth shut. And he might've prayed just a little bit that Michael would chicken out on making his first kill. Maybe if Dwayne got lucky, Michael would die of starvation.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dwayne'd never imagined what a dead vampire would look like.

Marko's body had fallen from the rafters, it was withered and curled. His skin had turned brown and leathery, and was currently smoking slightly, smelling of burnt flesh and blood. His face was unrecognizable, and most of his hair had fallen out. It was disgusting. It was infuriating.

"Fuck!"

David was just voicing what they were all thinking. He was cradling a burnt hand to his chest, standing in the middle of their alcove, while Paul paced like an angry predator. All three of them, still exhausted and sore from not being able to recuperate during their day sleep, were vamped out and pissed.

"Fuck," David cursed again, his word coming out on a growl. He gave a very evil sounding laugh, his eyes gleaming. "They want a war, boys."

Dwayne fought the urge to tell David that he'd never liked Michael.

"Tonight," David said, and Paul nodded vigorously.

They were all too weak to move Marko -- and there wasn't much they could do with his body during the day anyway -- and Dwayne himself felt like he was going to collapse on the spot. One thing he'd always hated about his lifestyle: the day sleep for sure, the slumber that rendered them dead to the world. If they hadn't been such deep sleepers, they would've woken in time to stop those no-good bastards.

Not only had they killed Marko, but they'd taken Laddie too. It left an ache in Dwayne's chest, a feeling he thought he'd be incapable of.

It felt like losing his brother all over again.