Disclaimer: I don't own Lost Boys, nor reap any benefit.
Alan's internal alarm clock once again rang loud and clear at seven in the morning. His eyes flew open to the sty of the room her shared with his brother. Edgar's mattress was on the other side of the room, his back towards Alan as he laid, curled up in his blanket. Alan sighed as he looked at the geography of the room.
Edgar's bed was adjacent to the door that led to his escape from his room and into the real world. Every morning it was the same thing; Alan woke up. Alan made a noise. Edgar woke up…furious. Every morning Alan had to develop some new technique at getting around the room without waking up the fucking monster that was his brother in the morning.
So, today Alan had planned on just kind of gliding along the floor in his socks until he reached the door. Then, he would slowly open the door and glide out. Silent and highly effective. It was a foolproof plan.
Almost without moving, Alan began to push himself off of his mattress-one single spring dared to squeak under his weight, and it would all be over for him. Why the fuck did Edgar have to be such a light sleeper? All it took was a gust of wind rustling a tree branch ten miles away to have Edgar fly up in the middle of the night in one of his usual states of "vampiric paranoia". Alan rolled his eyes, holding back a sigh. His brother was a conspiracy theory and a UFO sighting away from locking himself in a room with boxes of old newspapers and a pair of binoculars.
Alan was kind of glad he was involved in his brother's life. He may not have been Jesus Christ, let alone the nicest guy, but he could at least supply some much needed comfort and sanity.
He had now reached a sitting position. It was a time consuming process, getting up in the morning, but if he avoided waking Edgar up then it was worth it. Every second was totally-
A squeak. The spring under his left hand might as well have stabbed his hand as it stabbed him in the back. He'd been so quiet and careful, and that careless spring had given him away. "Fucker," he hissed through clenched teeth as Edgar rolled over.
"Fucking hell, Alan," he muttered, his eyes still closed and his voice slurred with sleep. "What time is it?"
Alan remained silent, running his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. His eyes were still closed-perfect. He could easily just get up and go out the door while Edgar drifted back to sleep and would never know the better. He had to act quickly though before Edgar's eyes opened and he threw a death glare in Alan's direction.
Or he threw an object.
Quickly, Alan pushed himself off of the bed, all the springs alerting Edgar of his escape practically simultaneously. Alan shut his eyes and braced himself as Edgar's groan assaulted his ears.
"Alan! Fucking…" Edgar swung his head up, his hair still hanging in his eyes as he glowered at Alan. "It's early. Why are you awake?"
"I just got up…to go eat," Alan rehearsed his daily list of excuses to his brother. "I wanted to shower-"
"You do this every day," Edgar growled as his eyes stayed perfectly focused on his brother. "Every fucking day you get up so damn early and are completely regardless to me and m-"
"WHOA," Alan snapped, opening his eyes and meeting his brother with a rage that rivaled his. "I fucking sneak around here like a fucking cockroach to make sure you sleep."
"Then why do I wake up every day?" Edgar snapped, his eyes narrowing as he stared at his brother.
"It was an accident," Alan said with a light laugh at his brother's complete overreaction.
"This is funny?" Edgar coaxed. "This…is funny to you? Alan, I am out every night, risking my life to save-"
"Um, I am too," Alan countered, rolling his eyes. "You stupid shit. You're not the only with a job."
"All I ask," Edgar muttered vehemently. "Is that I sleep in the mornings and-wipe that fucking smirk off your face!" he shouted, tossing a pillow at Alan's head. "I fucking hate you."
"I know!" Alan called out, rolling his eyes and walking over to his bureau. "You tell me every fucking day how much you hate me. I get it. You hate me."
"…I don't hate you," Edgar admitted reluctantly, somehow trying to apologize without apologizing. "You know I don't hate you."
Alan rolled his eyes. "Whatever, man." That's why Edgar was screaming and waving his arms around like a fucking ninny, because he loved Alan. Dumb piece of shit.
"Alan, I just ask you to be quiet in the morning!" Edgar shot, staring at his brother. "You don't even do that! This is every fucking morn-"
"I AM SORRY!" Jesus Christ, Edgar was a pain in the ass. Alan whipped around and stared at him. "Is that what you wanted, you big baby? An apology! Well, THERE YOU GO! There's your apology!"
"I wanted a guarantee it wouldn't happen again," Edgar shot in his matter-of-fact tone which took a threatening turn as he continued. "Because if it does, I will fucking kill you so fast you won't have time to blink."
Alan took a shaky breath, staring Edgar down. He felt a rage tying his stomach in knots and it took every fiber of his being to not put his fist to his brother's smug little face and let him sleep for a couple of months in a hospital. "I'm…sorry," he said, his voice cracking under the restrain the put on himself.
Be calm, be cool, he thought to himself as he felt his mouth form a snarl. Don't knock that pretentious little piece of-
"You should be," Edgar spat at him. "You fucking dumb-"
That's it.
Alan leapt down onto Edgar's mattress, unleashing a series of punches to his brother's face.
"I. SAID. I. WAS. SORRY." he growled through clenched teeth, each word punctuated to his brother's face.
Edgar swung his right fist into Alan's cheek, knocking him back far enough to at least get him to stop punching him. Edgar jumped up, spitting out a wad of blood and spit onto his mattress. "Fuck you!" he called out to Alan, who was lying with his back on the floor, gasping for air as blood from his nose trickled onto his upper lip.
He was going to kill him.
Slowly, Alan pushed himself off of the floor and stood, completely apathetically, in front of his brother. With a small, almost bored sigh, Alan grabbed Edgar's shirt collar and slammed him up against the wall behind him.
"Look, you stupid, arrogant, piece of shit," he muttered, his voice eerily calm. "I said…I was sorry because it was an accident. If you won't accept my apology, I will make sure…you get…the best night's sleep…of your life," There was a threatening, powerful message underlying Alan's serene exterior. "Okay?"
Edgar inhaled, trying to cover to nervousness in his vocals that was evident in his eyes. "I accept," he said quietly, almost shivering as Alan let him go. Edgar pushed him away ever so slightly, to feel like he had scared Alan away despite knowing the truth.
Alan didn't take his eyes off of him as he left the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
Edgar sighed, glaring at the door. There was just no talking to Alan in the morning.