A/N - Just by way of an explanation, I actually only learned that there was a sequel and a comic book series to The Lost Boys last week (how I managed to miss this, I have no idea, but there you go). Expecting the worst, I ordered them anyway. They arrived on Wednesday, the day Corey Haim died. Obviously, I wasn't in the happiest mood going in, but although they were full of faults and really not that great at all, they had potential. The comics did, anyway. One think I really didn't like though, Alan was forced into drinking vampire blood, then he just ran off into the night never to be seen or heard from again? C'mon, there is no way he wouldn't fight for his humanity to the last breath. He'd fail, or he'd have been in the sequel and poor Eddy wouldn't have been angsting about losing a sibling to the other side, but he's have tried, damnit! So, knowing that Edgar is a bit of a liar and half that story he told wasn't true anyway, I decided to make a few alterations. Not many, just enough that instead of running off, Alan fights it.

Aftertaste

Prologue:

Edgar went home in a daze, his head spinning, unable to think of anything but the look of revulsion and fear in Alan's eye before he turned and flew away. As hard as he had tried, and he had tried everything, he had failed, the bloodlust had won. Somewhere, if there was an afterlife for vampires, the one who turned him would be laughing.

As soon as he stepped inside, Edgar felt the exhaustion wash over him like a wave. His knees buckled and he sank to the floor, placed his head in his hands and stayed there. It had been a long night. A long month, actually. Almost four weeks had passed since he had hears his brother say those terrible words, 'She made me drink.'

To his credit, Alan had fought valiantly against the evil inside him, refusing to give in, trusting that his brother would help him. In those first moments, Edgar had thought his brother was already lost. The cruelest twist was that he had been right, only it would take them both longer before they knew it for sure.

He crawled into bed fully clothed, not ever bothering to remove his boots or his t-shirt still wet with blood. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Edgar Frog cried. The tears drenched his pillow, his head pounded as the sobs shook his body, but he barely felt it. The pain his his head didn't come close to the one in his heart.