DISCLAIMER: I do not own Lost Boys nor reap any benefit.

Also, I wrote this after NO SLEEP. I thought it was funny though. Hope you like it!

"Mike, um," Sam began looking down at the ground and resting a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder. "I-I know I said that I'd be here for you and-and everything," he raised a skeptic eyebrow and looked at his brother. "A strip joint, Mike? Really?"

Michael looked at his brother, completely exasperated. "First of all, Sammy. It's mainly a bar, with…it's not that bad. And Sammy, you didn't have to come-"

Sammy sighed. Michael had just broken up with Star, or more she had broken up with him. He felt for Michael-they'd been together three years and she'd left him without real cause or reason. And naturally, Michael was taking it a little hard, thinking being a single twenty-one year old was some curse that only was afflicted on him.

Yeah. Right, Michael.

And being the naturally good brother he was, Sammy had told Michael they could go out and do whatever he wanted. Because Sam had his back.

So Michael dragged him to a strip club. In turn, Sam dragged Edgar and Alan as an escape from the inevitable depressed Michael scenario-Michael would get drunk and pathetic, maybe even cry on Sam's shoulder about how his whole life was falling apart.

Sam loved his brother but…he wasn't going to listen to him cry. Especially about a girl. It seemed a little…dorky. And Sam was too cool for that.

"No, Mike," Sam began encouragingly, counting off all the reasons he would stay there with him. "You're my brother. You're a good guy, I-I'm a good guy. And…this could be fun. It could. It really could."

Michael shot him a skeptical look. "Really?"

Sam nodded. "Really."

Michael nodded, taking a backwards step. "I'm gonna go to the bar, man."

Sam nodded slowly, sadly comprehending everything happening. "Yeah, sure, Mike."

"Want a drink?"

"No, Mike," Sam said, holding up his hand. There wasn't a lot an eighteen year-old, law abiding citizen could drink containing alcohol. But then again maybe the Frog Brothers would want something anyway, even if Sam didn't.

He turned to his friends, who were shooting him daggers.

"Sam, I really don't understand why you had to drag us along on this little…voyage," Edgar stated, his eyes extremely harsh and judgmental. "Isn't this more of you and your brother thing?"

"Look," Sam protested quickly, pleadingly. He would not be stuck with Mopey Michael alone, especially while Mopey Michael was drinking his problems away. "Guys, Mike needs me, he needs me right now. I'm his brother, I support him, you kno-"

"We know," Alan shot back. "We're brothers. We get it."

Sam sighed. "The point is, look…he needs people here to support him," he smiled persuasively. "To have his back! To protect him, be his heroes. Guys, that's up your alley."

Edgar flinched, almost in pain. "Sam, I don't know if you noticed, but this place is crawling with whores and criminals. We are really not the crowd for this place."

"Just give it a chance!" Sam spat at them. "Jesus, it's not that bad."

Edgar and Alan shared an exasperated look before sitting at the farthest corner of the bar in a booth. Sam joined them a few minutes later. Alan looked up at Sam, uncharacteristically appearing moderately intrigued.

"Why did Michael even come to a strip joint?"

Sam shrugged, completely at a loss. "He…wants to watch girls? Get drunk without our mom riding him?" Sam shook his head. "I just let him get it out of his system."

"So you indulge him?" Edgar accused.

"That's highly unhealthy," Alan agreed, his intrigue almost completely obliterated from his face.

"Shut up," Sam muttered, looking around the club for a sign of his brother. He could not see him…anywhere. Not at the bar, not at the center stage where the girls were twirling around, looking at the pathetic hound dogs drooling up at them. One reached around her and untied her-

Hello. Sam turned back to the two people at the table probably more uncomfortable than him. "Anyone want to see if there's food?"

Alan shrugged. "I only have three dollars."

Edgar leaned back in his seat. "I'm basically impoverished."

"Of course," Sam muttered to himself, again his job of watching out for his brother.

"Sam," Edgar hissed, getting his friend's attention. He was leaning over the table, looking from Sam to some guy behind him. "Sam, does that guy look like a blood sucker to you?"

Sam turned his head to the sea of men. He rolled his eyes, confused. "Which one? There's like…a thousand guys out there."

"That one," Edgar growled, leaning further over and pointing towards some man, who in Edgar's defense was abnormally pale, in a business suit who was drinking heavily at the bar. "That puppet in the suit."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Just because he's a little…bit pale-"

"I'll check him out," Edgar muttered, proceeding to climb over the table.

"Edgar," Sam hissed, completely humiliated-more for Edgar when the guy turned out to not be a vampire and just some poor sap with no melanin in his skin. "Edgar! No!" he warned, sounding like his parent. "No, Edgar, Don't-"

But he had already climbed over and was gone.

Alan sighed. "I'd go after him if I didn't think he just wanted to leave."

Sam nodded in agreement. "He's bored."

"I know," Alan replied, mildly annoyed. He took his wallet out of his pocket and flipped through it. "Oh, cool. Ten bucks."

Sam nodded. Why he got stuck alone with Alan was beyond him-that kid hated him for some odd reason. In a pathetic attempt at conversation, Sam shrugged and asked. "So are you going to get food?"

"Nah," Alan was disinterested already.

Sam mouthed okay, and again resumed looking for his brother when a girl cut off his vision-or her midriff did. Sam looked up the tan, trim body at the head that rested on top of it. She was pretty, her nose was kind of pointy, and she had curly, blonde hair. And way too much make up on.

"Hey there," she said with a small giggle. "I'm Candi. You boys being taken care of?"

Sam nodded politely but fearfully. "Yeah, we're fine-"

Alan cut him off. "I have ten ones. Know where I can get one ten?"

She giggled, looking at Alan as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Hate having all that money with you?"

"Yeah," he replied, completely detached from the conversation. "Know where I can get a whole ten dollar bill?"

She winked, giggling again-Sam began to think the giggle was just a natural part of her voice. "I know where you can use-"

"It's degrading for both you and I if we use it the way you're intending," Alan said coolly, looking at her. "I really just want a ten dollar bill."

She faltered with her smile before walking away.

"Nice," Sam said sarcastically. "What is it with you anyway and that stupid ten dollar bill thing anyway?"

"I'm bound to lose one if I keep it all in ones," Alan said, his tone mildly scornful. "So I need one bill. Is that a problem?"

Sam shook his nervously. He was too stupid to confront Alan, especially without Edgar around to stop him from wringing Sam's neck.

He gulped.

Alan sighed, pushing himself from the table. "I'm gonna go see if anyone has a ten. I'll be back."

Sam watched him leave and sighed, tempted to rest his head on the table but God knows what the patrons of this place had done to the bar. Sam looked for his brother-where the hell was Michael? It couldn't be that Mike couldn't see him-he was not that far away or in a dimly lit area of the stupid place. Maybe Michael had met a stripper and was off winning her heart. Yeah. Sam could only hope that's what was happening.

Edgar fell back into his seat across from Sam. "It turns out that guy is just extremely pale."

"What did you do?" Sam asked nervously.

Edgar held up his hand to let him explain. "I apologized profusely. There's nothing you need to worry about."

Sam nodded. "I don't want to know."

Another girl walked over, smiling just like the other girl. Only difference was this girl had long, black hair instead of blonde. "Hello, there," she said with a smile, her voice raspy as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. She leaned in against the table, resting her arms and chest against the wood.

Edgar swallowed. Sam flinched.

"You boys look a little nervous," she said with a wink, leaning in a little further. "You ever been here before?"

Sam shook his head anxiously. "Nope. No. Never-"

Edgar scoffed to overcompensate his complete lack of experience with the other gender. "I would never really come into this place."

She smiled playfully, raising her eyebrows. "And why is that?"

Edgar shrugged, unable to look her in the eyes as he face turned an unnatural shade of pink. "Well, for starters-"

Sam shook his head, cutting his friend off. He really didn't need Edgar insulting the woman and her career. It would just completely make things even more horrific then they already were.

The girl smirked, sitting directly on the table in front of Edgar on the table. She was wearing black shorts and a black bra-both incredibly lacy and too small, Sam noted with a knowing roll of the eyes and a nod. She bent one of her legs, sliding her high heel along the wood.

"Well," she said seductively, much to Edgar's dismay and fear. She curved her back, giggling as her stomach lifted off the table. "Tell me what you do."

Sam would have laughed, but if Edgar caught him…he would massacre him. Edgar looked pained as he looked on at her, not knowing how to get rid of her and just keep her away from him. His cheeks had gone from pink to red and he couldn't speak, his lips trembling so much he couldn't even form words, let alone a breath. Girls were the scariest thing on this planet for Edgar, especially girls who threw themselves at him. It didn't happen often.

All the more reason for him to freak out.

Alan came back over at that point. "No one has a fucking ten dollar bi-" he stopped as he immediately looked at his brother. "What happened?" he interrogated, shooting a look at Sam. "What happened to him?"

Sam gestured to the girl on the table.

Alan sighed, opening his wallet and handing her the wad of tens. "Thanks for…that. Now get away from him."

The girl smirked again, kicking her legs and sitting up. "I was just being friendly-"

Alan, completely unmoved by her offer of friendship, grabbed her by the shoulders and led her away from the table. "He doesn't need friends. Goodbye."

And with one light, final shove, she stumbled away.

Edgar's face had still not returned to normal but he could form words…barely. "Alan," he ordered gruffly, looking at the table as he pushed himself up, climbing over the table. "Leaving. Now," he barked as he walked towards the door.

Alan shot a warning look at Sam. "I expect ten dollars from you."

"But-"

"ALAN!" Edgar barked from across the bar.

Alan gave Sam a triumphant smirk and wandered off into the darkness to find his brother. And once again Sam was alone in the dark.

He shook his head, mumbling to himself. "Stupid…Star…Michael…break up…"

Sammy contemplated how Michael would compensate for this trip out. He frowned, shaking his head sympathetically. It wasn't pretty.

Sam deserved it though. He was a fucking good brother.