Disclaimer - Don't own Lost Boys

This didn't turn out how I planned it to be. It's rubbish. Oh, well...

1983

Alan is ten years old today.

It means nothing to him, nor to Edgar who is aware that Alan is no longer nine. It's just an age. There will be no birthday parties with colourful balloons, or a big cake with ten candles, and people to come and play party games. Even if he could have had it, Alan would have said no. Both brothers didn't like parties; they steered clear of them at all costs, but they had no worries, as the only parties that went on in their family was that of their parents getting baked in their bedroom as they listened to classical music, or other music they weren't familiar with.

Mummy and daddy are having a tea party.

That was the answer Alan got when he asked why she needed so much food to take into her room. When he grew older, he learnt that it was no tea party. Many times, he had to cycle down to the store to get them food, as the cupboards were usually empty. They needed their munchies. It was always their money that had to buy their stuff, or mostly Alan's, as he was the one who got sent out for the errands most times. He'd return with what she had asked and, saying that he was her sweet baby, she'd return to her room with glassy eyes, getting even more high than she already was. The fumes that lingered in the air were enough to get him baked out of his mind, but both had now learnt to deal with it.

As Alan guessed, when he awoke, there were no presents. Edgar was already awake, sitting on top of the quilt, reading a comic. A mumble of morning was given, and Edgar looked at him. A happy birthday was given in response, and his eyes went back to the comic then. Alan said nothing, as they weren't ones to get all giddy and happy about birthdays. It didn't bother him that he was given nothing, not even by Edgar. He didn't care for presents, or cake, or sweeties, and other things children got on their birthdays. To Alan, it was just another day, only he was one year older. A happy birthday was good enough a present for him. It meant something to him, as he doubted his parents knew, but then again, he didn't care if they did or not. The only thing their doped up minds could register was to eat and get more high. But Edgar knew, and that was enough for Alan.

The day went quickly for both. School was the same as it always was for the two. Reading comics underneath the desks, pretending to listen to what the teacher was saying. The same remarks were given from their classmates, how they were freaks, dorks, and what other stuff came out from vial children like themselves. All Edgar did was give them a glower, but Alan completely blocked them out. Last lesson seemed to be the slowest. There was no way to pass time by reading a comic. Both always brought many with them, as they read them in every lesson, but the last teacher who taught had eyes in the back of his head, and Alan had no wish to get his comic confiscated, or worse, ripped up.

He's a total prick Edgar had muttered when it had happened to them the once.

He may have been a prick, but he was a comic ripping monster. Even the once he had made both brothers empty their bags after class, and after all ten comics spilled onto his desk, they were taken away. He was just an asshole in general both had come to realise.

You're not supposed to have comics in school. You can have these back on Monday, if you start paying attention in class that is.

It became three weeks when Edgar called him a total prick.

When school finished, both couldn't have been more rejoiced, even though balls of paper were thrown at their heads as they left the school grounds. Not even Edgar stopped to turn around and give them the Frog glare. As the day was the same as any other, so was the night. After throwing their bags into their bedroom, both ventured downstairs to take over the comic store. As they always were, both parents were asleep. Looking around, Edgar cursed in anger. It was better to have it closed whilst they were at school, as they were making a loss thanks to their stupid parents who were to out of it to watch out for thief's. It was decided after that day, they would take it in turns. One going to school one day, and one staying to run the comic store.

When it became quiet, signs there was no point staying up any longer, they closed the store. As they reached their bedroom, Alan found his eyes moving to the alarm clock on the bedside cabinet. Ten minutes until his birthday was over. Edgar looked in his direction and knew instantly what his brother was thinking. His face became an expressionless mask as he retrieved something from underneath his bed. Blowing the small layer of dust off it, he moved across the room, stepping onto Alan's side. His face stayed that same empty expression when it was handed towards him.

''I know you like this sort of thing'' Edgar muttered as Alan took it off him. ''Happy Birthday, Alan.''

A small smile came onto his face as he looked at the book in his hand. Unlike Edgar, who only read comics, Alan had a like for books and, when it fancied him, he could sit for an hour reading one. Embarrassment came when Edgar was forcefully shoved into a bear crushing hug. That smile was still plastered on Alan's face as he hugged his brother tighter. Clearing his throat, he jokingly pushed Alan away, who snapped to his senses.

A half smile was given by Edgar who moved back on his side. Alan was still smiling when he turned off the light and slipped underneath the covers. His birthday always became good because of Edgar.

1985

Edgar is worried. He paces the waiting room with a nerve and fear he hasn't felt before. A stony expression marks his face, and he glowers at any person who attempts to give him a sympathetic look, thinking of the worst. It was his fault. Edgar was so intent on finding the bloodsuckers, he never thought how dangerous it could have been. As always, Alan stayed silent and trailed behind his brother, not arguing with everything he said and planned. He was alone now. There was nobody else waiting for Alan like he was. There was nobody feeling frightened like he did. His parents had been contacted, and his mother promised she was on her way. That was an hour ago and, at the moment, he called her all the names underneath the sun. Alan could be…Edgar shakes his head; he doesn't want to think the worse, but he just wouldn't wake. He tried to wake him, but he wouldn't wake up. As the blood coated his fingers, Edgar felt sick with fear. Fear formed all over and he violently shouted Alan's name, telling him to get up. But he never. He just lay there like a broken doll, the wound still pouring with blood on his head. He had to do something, he had to.

Now, they weren't telling him anything. He asked the nurse who slipped in and out of the room every so often. She said nothing, ignored him completely. As they rushed in and out, that fear built higher. He couldn't forgive himself for this. He pictures Alan again all broken, and a lump forms in his throat. They, he, should have checked before they went within. It was an accident. No, it wasn't an accident, as he should have checked, he should have been careful. Alan was right. He never planned things out. And now look what had happened. When they argued about it the once, Edgar had shouted, hit Alan, which only ended in both being bruised and hurt. Now, Alan was right, and he should have planned it out efficiently. The crypt was easy to get into, you just had to move on your stomach, but when Alan went in first… Edgar didn't know it was falling apart within, and when he knocked into something, bricks fell, one by one landing right on Alan. Edgar shakes the memory away and paces more. A huff of anger comes when he looks at the clock. No doubt his stupid parents, or his mother has forgotten and is back getting stoned. Rage burns within, and he grits his teeth, pushing away the hurt that begins to form. He needs Alan. He can't live without him. If he goes, then so does Edgar. He can't survive without him. Alan is the thing that fuels Edgar, and he already begins to hate himself as he thinks again of what happened.

For the first time in his life, Edgar silently prays. He prays that Alan will be okay and that the news will be good. He prays hard with all his might, and that lump comes back. He has to get out of there, away from all those stupid eyes that look at him. Water is splashed on his face as he reaches the sink in the toilet, and war paint runs down his cheeks as he glances at himself for a fraction of a second in the mirror.

His praying works. Alan is fine, he is alive and there is no permanent damage. The fear melts in an instant and Edgar just feels relief, but he never forgives himself for what he done, even though Alan never blames him.

They still have each other.

1986

His fingers are blistering as he repeatedly writes, I must not hit other people, on the chalkboard. The room is silent, other than the sounds of the chalk moving across the board. Edgar is not sorry for what he has done, even when he thinks back to what happened. The boy deserved what he got, and Edgar is only sorry he got caught. He has been there for over an hour and a half, and his fingers are hurting more with every passing minute, but he grits his teeth, and continues writing those words. He has lost count at how many times he has rubbed out the words when there is no more room to write. It is done again, and still he is not sorry. Alan could look after himself mostly, but when Edgar saw three of them, everything turned red. He doesn't care when he gets hit, as long as it's aimed at him now. Not even the teacher shouting down the corridor stops him from hitting the boy again and again. They pile on him and, Alan recovering, jumps in as well. Students flock to the scene, all egging them on, repeatedly shouting fight, fight, fight. Edgar cannot hear them, all he can think about is hurting the boys who hurt Alan.

More anger comes when he sees Alan's comics crumpled and torn on the floor. The boys are no longer laughing or shouting insults at Alan. Now, they shout for the two to get off them. But they don't. The hitting is continued until both are dragged back by the back of their necks. Rage still burning in is eyes, he tries to go for them again, until a flash of pain crosses his face when the grip tightens on him. Teachers come from everywhere, most students flee, not wanting to be caught and punished. Some linger to see what would happen. Edgar stares at the boys with a deep, dark, glower.

Alan has gotten off much lightly, but Edgar is blamed for everything. He doesn't care, as they haven't cornered Alan since that day, and they never give snide remarks or take his bag off him and damage his things.

Edgar will do this no matter what for his brother. The detention means nothing now they leave Alan alone.

1987

Edgar will take everything.

Alan goes to school every day, and Edgar says no when he offers to stay and run the store, so he can go to school for a change. It's fine with him, he doesn't need school. Alan does though, and Edgar wants him to go. He can handle the store by himself, it's no problem. He entertains himself like he usually does. Reading comics or sorting out new ones that need to be put onto the shelves. The day seems a little more slow with Alan not being not around, but he knows the holidays are coming up soon. It's not all bad. They'll be back together soon. The day does go pretty much quick as the boardwalk has become more busy now the heat is unbearable, and now the tourists are beginning to steadily flock to Santa Carla. A droplet of sweat falls from his forehead, landing on the comic, and Edgar shakes his head in frustration. Every so often, his eyes will go around when someone will enter the store, or are browsing at the comics. His tongue burns from the aching thirst. He needs a cold glass of water, but he cannot risk to go upstairs with the people in the store. Even turning his back for a second gives them the advantage to steal something. He can wait until Alan comes back. It will only be another hour. He swallows a clump of saliva and wipes the sweat away from his forehead. Just another hour. Alan has history and English today. In fact, he has one of those lessons every day, and those subjects are his strongest. The only thing Edgar is good at is a bit of science and art. The rest are useless to him, but he wants Alan to learn. He wants Alan to pass all subjects. Unlike Edgar, Alan does his homework some of the time, only English and science willingly. But Edgar convinces him he can handle the store as he goes upstairs to do the rest of his homework. Alan deserves to pass his subjects, Edgar doesn't. Not really, because he's never cared for them. Only once or twice has he done his homework. Alan does. He wants to learn and he enjoys English and history, so Edgar makes him go to school.

Alan doesn't like it without Edgar, as he sits alone at lunch. Lessons are fine, as he reads comics, but the hour of lunch drags by. After a few weeks, Alan becomes okay with it. He returns home, and Edgar asks him how school was. It was fine was the reply all the time. No problems was what Edgar was asking and there never was. Of course he was still called names, but that never bothered Alan like it did with Edgar.

Edgar says the day has been fine. That is the thing he says all the time, and Alan nods, but he's not convinced. Surely, Edgar needs help handling the store by himself. Does he eat and does he go upstairs? Edgar finds an excuse that he was busy, and Alan drops the subject, making his way upstairs.

Edgar will do anything for Alan.

1990

They are cornered and they move back even more, trying to think of a plan. Red eyes are trained intently on them, and sharp fangs extract from gums. Edgar gives them disgusted looks, and his hand grips the stake more tightly. They see the movement and snarl in response. Alan looks at all of them and, like Edgar, tries to think of a way out of it. They are outnumbered, and the only weapons they have are one stake and a water pistol. For one blood sucker that would have been fine. For three, chances were slim. Edgar spots the weapons twelve feet away, but the vamps are in the way, and he doesn't want to take the risk. Anticipation runs through Alan as he stares at them all. They don't move either, but they were waiting. Waiting for the right time to catch them off guard and have them. Alan never takes his eyes off them like they don't with them either. If he did, they'd be upon them. Heck, he doesn't even blink as he stares into their demonised eyes.

Edgar looks around as Alan watches them, still trying to think of a plan. Nothing is coming and he wills himself to stay calm. They catch emotions and play them against you, use them to their advantage. Fear is the biggest one but, even in this predicament they're in, neither feel that.

''We're buggered'' Alan mutters, eyes still on them.

Edgar looks around, still trying to think of something. ''No, we're not.''

Alan takes his eyes off them and they move then. They grab him just as he turns back to face them, realising his mistake. The water pistol drops from out of his hand, crashing to the ground. He is pushed into the brick wall, and all is heard is loud snarls. Edgar instantly moves into action. The one is forcefully yanked from Alan, and it's the vamps turn to be thrown into the wall, instantly turning to ask when the stake is plunged into it's chest by an angered Edgar. The second one grabs him then and it's Alan's who grabs the water pistol from the floor and, moving away from the other blood sucker that goes for him, sprays it in the others face. Hands are removed from Edgar's throat and it screams and snarls as it touches its, now, flesh peeled face. Both need to move and quick. Straightening up, Edgar grips the stake tightly, and without hesitation thrusts into the vamps chest, watching it burn down to dust. Their screams linger in the air and ash swirls for a few seconds before becoming nothing. Two down and one to go.

''For once I have your back'' Alan says as Edgar looks at him.

Something jumps on him then, and he falls to the floor. Alan struggles when fangs move towards his neck, when red eyes become even redder. He fights with all his might, but this one is stronger. It keeps him forcefully pinned down to the ground, and his hand come to its throat, keeping it away at a distance. A menacing, vicious, snarl forms past its lips, and just as Edgar goes to hit it, it's knocks him flying backwards. He falls to the ground and doesn't move. Alan still fights and his hands grips the vamps throat tighter, keeping its razor sharp fangs away from his flesh. This one is most stronger, and the fight in him is starting to weaken from the strength it uses. His, now, panicked eyes move to Edgar's un moving form, and he shouts at him to get up. He doesn't and Alan swears. Now, fear starts to form within. His heart pounds furiously in his chest, and he fights and fights with all his might. The vamp isn't even tired and no signs of giving up or moving are done. It was going to kill him if it was the last thing it did. There was no way in hell was Alan dying by a pair of fangs.

It moved closer towards him, still snarling in rage. Alan found himself looking at those monstrous fangs, and that fear built stronger within. He continued struggling, continued trying to push the thing off him. He wills Edgar to get up and if by magic he does. Just as the bloodsucker senses it, before it can turn, the stake is pushed through its chest and, Alan, breathless, pushes it off him as it, like the others did, becomes ash.

''I still have your back, Alan'' Edgar says with a curl up of the lip.

1997

Edgar feels numb. There seems to be no feelings with him as he moves, but the faint spark of determination is with him, like it always is every minutes of every hour of every day. It has been over two months since Alan and Edgar have been separated, and Edgar hasn't given up looking for him. He will not believe he has been murdered by their enemies, but a small something always snakes its way into his head. Could have Alan got caught? Could the worst have happened? Before everything changed, they were well aware that they had become the talk in the vampires world. Every night those stupid enough stalked them down, wanting to destroy the Frog brothers. Most of the vampire population wanted their heads on platters, but there were some who wanted them in their covens. Change them and have them with them. They knew why, and Edgar stated right there and then to Alan, he would rather die a painful death than ever become a bloodsucker, but a lot had different plans for the two.

Having two well trained and skilled vampire hunters, well, being pulled into a blood thirsty family, they had the experience to take out threats and problems, that being they would no longer be much of a threat to the vampire world. That night they made a promise. If one were to ever…if the worst ever happened, then they knew what they had to do. Edgar promised he would if it happened to Alan, and Alan promised he would if it happened with Edgar.

Now, as Edgar fears that the worst has happened with Alan, he doesn't know if he can do it. It's only been two months, but he feels something is wrong. If Alan is…if Alan has been caught and the thing both very much hate has been turned on Alan, Edgar doesn't know if he can go through with it. Could he murder Alan? If Alan was a blood sucker then Edgar had to face that Alan wasn't Alan anymore. He wouldn't be the same twenty four year old man…no, he would be an unstoppable killing machine, and he would have to be destroyed but, as Edgar thinks this, something bubbles to the surface.

But they've always had each others backs no matter what. They're the Frog brothers. Dedicated hunters, there to protect the innocent, and he doesn't know if he could ever face having to do that to a brother he lost to a world plagued in darkness and blood. Edgar hasn't stopped searching for Alan, and he never will until he finds him and knows where he is. The main thing Edgar wants is to know where Alan is, but everywhere he asks, to those who have eyes and ears of towns and cities, who watch the vampires world, keep quiet. No whispers have been heard, or nobody will tell him anything. Edgar hasn't seen Sam in so long either, but he cannot right at that moment. Nothing will be like it was until he finds Alan. Sam is worried for his friend, but he isn't the sweet, stupid Sam like he was all those years ago in Santa Carla. Like them, he hunts vampires, and destroys any that come across his path. Other than Sam, Edgar trusts no one, not even those others who knew about vampires and had helped him out on several occasions. News had travelled to him. Insiders were teaming up with the vampires, deciding to work for them for a wish of immortality. The hunters and those there to help Edgar have been feeding the vamps information. Now, Edgar tells nothing to anybody, not even the people he gets his equipment off, or offer to help him with things. Sam is the only one he can trust, but neither have time for each other right at that moment.

Edgar is alone and it starts to sink in. What if he never finds Alan? He just needs to know if he is alive and safe, and not dead somewhere, or worse, a bloodsucker. Edgar hasn't felt this alone in years, and the weight of the loneliness crushes down on him, especially during the day when sleep won't go to him. It's easier not to think of Alan when night falls, when he's out stalking and killing vampires, but when he is alone, Alan comes to his mind, and Edgar feels that loneliness crush down on him again and again. If Alan got into contact with him and decided to go his own separate way, Edgar wouldn't have cared, as long as he knew Alan was human still, and fine. But even then, the thought of Alan being fine and deciding to separate even depressed Edgar. No, if he had, he knew Alan would have told him.

Alan wouldn't have just left without saying something. There was only two things. He was dead or a blood sucking fiend. That lump came back when he thought of both.

Two months became three, and still Edgar found no traces of Alan or heard even a whisper of his name. To all, he was gone, dead, just a nobody, but Edgar never gave up. He searched and he searched, looking, trying to catch something. Before he killed vampires, he tried to get something out of them, but not even they knew. They were rather lying, or actually didn't know. Would have Edgar preferred Alan dead than un dead? No matter how either hurt, he would have rather found Alan dead and broken than with his own set of fangs.

When four months past, which then turned to five, slowly six, seven, eight…It hit nine and Edgar hadn't given up, but that night when he returned to his trailer, he had a surprise visitor. The moment he parked his truck outside, he knew there was someone within. It was a feeling that came to him. He didn't know if it was a vampire, but he grabbed his stakes and stepped out from the truck. The trailer was covered in darkness but he knew someone was within. With a cautious face, his eyes went around as he moved towards the trailer. No sounds greeted him, but vampires made no sounds. When they moved, no noise came with them, but Edgar always knew when they were approaching. There was no one else outside he noted, only within his home.

When he walked inside, it wasn't what he expecting. In fact, Edgar didn't know what to feel. Nothing came to him for a few seconds as he stared at Alan from where he sat. Dirt and blood coated his face, but other than that, he looked calm, although a tired look was upon his features. As Edgar stared more, the grip on the stake loosened. He knew how to spot blood suckers and Alan wasn't a vampire.

''Where the fuck have you been, Alan?'' Edgar slammed the stake down onto the counter, rage coming from out of nowhere. There came no answer and this enraged him more. A dark look took over as he stared at his brother. He was fine, he was bloody human, and he hadn't even heard a word from him. A small smile came onto Alan's lips as they stared at each other, and amusement formed within his eyes.

''It's good to see you, Edgar.''

The response was a deep glower. ''One fucking year'' Edgar paused. ''Nearly a fucking year, Alan. Where the hell have you been?''

''Where have I been'' Alan leant backwards into the chair. ''Fighting to stay a fucking live, or from becoming a vampire.''

This stopped Edgar in his tracks. The anger melted and, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, he leant against the counter. ''What happened?''

The snap of a can was heard and he waited in silence as Alan drank. He wanted to know where he had been, he wanted to know everything. Alan was alive, his brother was fine and not the thing Edgar had been fearing he was for months. It began to sink in as he stared at Alan, and a deep relief filled him. Alan was alive; he hadn't lost him. They were back together again. When the last sip was taken, the can was put down onto the counter. Edgar looked at the clumps of thick oozing blood that smeared itself up Alan's cheeks, and a disgusted look came. Dirt stained his clothes, and Edgar noted they were the same clothes he wore from the night he went missing. He dared not to sit by Alan when seeing that. Grabbing a rag from the counter, he soaked it in water and handed it towards him. As Alan took it, Edgar grimaced as he noted half of his nails had been ripped off, and dry blood was coated between his fingers.

''You look like shit, Alan'' Edgar stated and leant back against the counter. Alan laughed slightly and began cleaning his face. The white rag became painted with red, and slowly the face of Alan could be seen. That tired look was still there, but behind the blood and dirt, colour was seen. A deep shade of red. No pale skin...He looked healthy, which from what Alan had just said, that he had gone through shit, well...Fighting for his life...Edgar expected damage, but he thanked that he was fine.

''I don't know what happened'' Alan continued cleaning his face. ''I heard a noise down the one alley I passed... '' He scrubbed hard at his cheeks, ridding away the sticky, dry, blood.'' The thing was bloody on the roof, and the one standing at the bottom of the alley was distracting me. Hit me from behind...'' The cloth was thrown onto the counter and he looked at Edgar.'' I woke up in some house.''

''Wait'' Edgar moved a step towards him. ''A house?''

''Sure'' Alan sighed and ran his hand through his hair. ''I was moved around at first, from warehouses, crypts, to...'' A small shudder came and a revolting look crossed his features. ''I was living with fucking vampire''

Edgar found himself sitting opposite of Alan. Living with vampires. A curl of the lip came from Edgar as he took in Alan's words. He couldn't even think how hard it must have been for Alan. Edgar knew he wouldn't have survived. But questions came, although Edgar didn't want to ask them. Why did they keep Alan around, alive? There had to be a reason to keep him human. Vampires weren't stupid, and he wondered how it worked, especially during the day. As if reading his mind, Alan spoke.

''I don't know why, Edgar, but I'm not going to question it. Every night when they came in...I feared they were going to do that, but they never.'' He stood up and, going to the fridge, retrieved another can. ''All I did was destroy vampires.''

Edgar turned to face Alan. ''Destroy?''

''They're increasing the population...and some needed to be controlled, those who couldn't...'' He sat back down and, snapping the can open, took a long swig from it. It was put betwen his legs and he wiped his hand across his forehead. ''It was my job to kill the vampires that couldn't be controlled, ones that were...untameable.''

''You're telling me you were just a fucking...'' Edgar shook his head. ''That's fucked up.''

Alan smiled slightly. ''I'm alive. I planned my escape for months, in fact since they first got me.'' A serious look came. ''They'll be coming for us, Edgar.''

Wrapping the bandanna around his head, Edgar pulled a face. ''And we'll be ready.'' The hard look evaporated from his face. ''I never gave up, Alan. I never stopped searching.''

''I know. They told me you were looking for me. It seems we have more than one problem though.''

''Insiders'' Edgar muttered, venom pooling his voice. ''Tomorrow night we start''

''It was you, Edgar.'' Alan suddenly said, and looked at him. ''I never gave up because of you. You pushed me.''

''It seems I always have your back'' Edgar said and smirked at Alan slightly, glad to have him back.

2011

''But I don't have your back, Alan.''

It was quiet. The sort of quiet when it became almost scary. The air was slightly bitter, although the sun was full out, shining down on the town. Maybe it was just where Edgar was. The sun wanted to play no part in somewhere so cold and dark as where he was. All Edgar could smell was flowers, nothing but a throat scratching scent of flowers. Everywhere he looked, his eyes landed on roses, tulips, lillies, (there were so many lillies) teddies, and other things like key rings, crosses, and beaded necklaces. The grass was dead where he stood and it crunched underneath his boots as he moved a little. The only thing living around him was the tree he leant against, but even during that time that it was, summer, the leaves had an almost brown look to them. It seemed nothing wanted to thrive where he was. But what would? The only things that was alive was the flowers and him, only the flowers died quicker than they were supposed to. It seemes all good things, all nice things, slowly withered and died.

All Edgar felt was numb and cold. As he looked down at the stone, parts of it crumbled away, and half of a letter A had disappeared. It was covered in grime, and a lump formed as he read the name. Flowers were around it and it looked ridiculous. As if he ever cared for flowers. They were for women, not men, but Edgar didn't stop her from putting them on there. Alan would have appreciated it, although he most likely laughed when she did. In the small, white stones, a stake was planted firmly in them, around it, a crossed necklace. Edgar felt that lump again as he continued staring.

He was supposed to be always there for Alan, no matter what. He promised he would always have Alan's back, but this time he just wasn't quick enough. Edgar didn't make it in time, and there was nothing he could do. It had been a year now, and Edgar still felt nothing but that anguish, that pain and grief. He needed Alan, he needed him all the time, but he'll never get him back again.

Alan was gone from the world, gone from the world forever. It never stopped hurting. Edgar, right at that moment, felt a small tear run, and it was the first one in so long. For once, he lets his stony self go down.

''I'm sorry, Alan. I just wasn't quick enough.''

Edgar didn't always have Alan's back, and he never would again either. Edgar had failed.