Disclaimer - I don't own The Lost Boys

Right, I started writing this the other day at the hospital whilst I was waiting for my sister to come out of recovery. I planned, no, wanted to stop writing one shots. So, I was waiting, playing on my Ds, and no jokes, I had a mini Edgar sitting on my shoulder. An idea came seconds later, and every time I tried to push it out, the bastard wouldn't leave me alone. Having no sleep for literally two days makes you go mad, haha. Damn, Edgar, though!

I actually sort of wrote this for a family friend, who is sadly giving up on life...

And it's set in a hospital...weird.


Pine disinfectant was all Edgar could smell as he walked down the long white corridor, his hands stuffed deep into his grey, trench coat, pockets. Doors opened and closed, and people passed him with tired and worn out faces, all holding coffee cups in their hands. The occasional cry of a child could be heard, and it echoed all the way down the long corridor, bouncing all around him. He moved past rooms, hearing the faint sound of beeping from the heart monitors that were linked up to sick patients. Retching, coughing, cries, and groans, reached his ears as he turned a corner, and he found himself stopping. He could see the double doors up ahead, but he found himself unable to move. Edgar had turned to stone, and with every sound he heard, when the smell of pine cleaner became stronger, the growing sickness increased within the pit of his stomach. He turned his head, looking back at the way he had come. A few people passed him, some giving sympathetic looks, and others confused ones. A nurse stopped in front of him then and offered her help. Edgar declined and said he was recollecting himself. She never asked who or what for, and he thankfully watched her scurry away. She opened the double doors for two doctors who were dragging silver trolleys full of sharp, metal instruments, and Edgar found himself swallowing.

He managed to catch nurses moving with clipboards and folders, others with trays of food, and he noted the small, clear, plastic cups in their hands, filled with different coloured pills inside. Edgar found himself moving back, and he rubbed his temples when he leant up against the wall. Breathing deep, he scanned all the posters hung up, seeing some about smoking, then rules when coming into wards, and directions for certain levels.

A child walked past him seconds later, holding onto someone's hand. The little girl smiled at him, and waved her tiny, pale hand. Edgar saw all the tubes stuck within her skin, and he gave a half smile back. It disappeared when she vanished through the doors, and a blank look took over his face. He felt sick with every inhale he did, with every sound he heard. Just through those double doors. That's all he had to do...was just walk through them. The quicker he got on with it, the quicker he could leave. Hospitals weren't Edgar's thing. It was funny real, he was a vampire hunter, every time his nights were over, he'd be caked in pieces of flesh and blood, but hospitals...There was something about them that physically made him retch. Patients passed him, looking sick and frail, some hooked up to IV drips. Nurses walked beside them, some stopped, and he watched them lean against the wall, breathing shallow.

Edgar had felt nothing when the news had come. He didn't feel anything when he found out his mother was on her death bed. Edgar felt nothing now, not even when he had walked through those hospital doors. All he felt was sick from the smell, but other than that, there was nothing. He didn't know why he had come, but he felt it was the right thing to do. Hating her or not, she was still his mother. What could he do? What was he supposed to say? Edgar didn't know.

Sorry, mom, sorry we haven't seen each other in over fifteen years. Sorry that you're dying in pain.

Edgar silently scoffed and then rubbed his temples again. He could admit it; he was scared to move, scared to walk through those doors. What would he see when he came into the room she was dying in? It was the silence Edgar didn't want. He hated that, he already had that every night when he was in his trailer alone, but the silence when coming face to face with his dying mother was something that made him stay where he was. There was nothing to say, but he knew he had to give his own goodbye. There was no feelings again, even when a small part of him wished he had never been contacted, wished a doctor would appear in front of him now, telling him she had passed on. He could leave then and breathe in the outside air.

''That's quite evil of you, Edgar. That's our mother dying in that room.''

Edgar froze and he turned then. Alan stood beside him, like Edgar, his face blank. Edgar watched him with suspicious and cautious eyes seconds later. He showed nothing in front of his demon of a brother. Deep within, although they were trying to kill each other all the time, he felt a little joy at seeing Alan. To say he was surprised that his brother had come was an understatement. He felt defenceless without any weapons, without anything to protect himself if the shit was about to go down. No, Alan was far smarter than that, but still Edgar wouldn't have felt better until he had a sharp stake hiding in the inside of his coat pocket.

''Why are you here, Alan?''

He turned towards Edgar then. ''Come on, I have to say goodbye before she crooks it. What kind of son would I be otherwise?''

He looked back at the wall, and tilted his cowboy hat over his eyes. Edgar saw the small smile upon his lips, and the suspicion increased within. Looking around, thinking, he frowned. Edgar moved away from Alan several minutes later, not bothering to look at him as he passed his brother and rounded the corner. Alan was up to something, and Edgar wasn't prepared to leave the hospital with no form of weapons. Coming to a practitioner room, he looked around, and seeing the coast was clear, slipped inside. Paper, upon paper, covered the small wooden desk, a bright light shining down on it. Folders and books were stacked up on a shelf. Rubbers, sharpeners, pencils, rulers, and paper clips were scattered all over the small table in the corner of the room. Paper overflowed the silver waste basket, and his eyes scanned around the room, looking for something, anything, that could be used as a weapon. Eyes stopped at a chest of metal draws, and he moved towards them. A small curse left his lips when the first one was locked, along with the second. The annoyed glower instantly disappeared from his face when the top opened. Pieces upon pieces of stationery occupied the draw, and his hands rummaged through it. He took the sheets of folded up paper out, and threw it to the floor. Hands stopped when they came upon a protractor. Grabbing that, he slipped it into his pocket and then proceeded to look back through the junk.

''Ouch.'' Edgar withdrew his hand, and holding it up to the light, watched the cut on his finger dribble with blood. Grabbing some tissue from the box on the desk, he wrapped it around the wound, and then looked back into the draw, inspecting what had given him a cut. Bingo. Looking towards the door, seeing he was safe, he grabbed the letter opener, and also slipped that into his pocket. Piling all the paper back inside the draw, he softly shut it, and slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind himself. A stone cold hand grabbed his, and the tissue was unwrapped. Edgar pulled back hard, causing the grip to tighten on his hand. His eyes burned angrily, and disgust came onto his once blank face when Alan licked the blood away.

He fell backwards, when Edgar's fist crunched him hard in the nose. Edgar's eyes went round, noting, luckily, nobody had noticed that little exchange.

''You do that again, Alan, I'll stake you right here.''

Alan laughed lightly. ''What with, Edgar? What weapons did you find?'' Alan stood up and grabbed his hand again. ''I was healing it. I could smell your blood all the way down the corridor.''

''Ugh!'' Edgar pulled a disgusted face and wiped his hand into his coat. ''Vampire saliva.'' He pushed Alan away. ''I don't want your...help with anything, Alan.''

Edgar moved past him. ''Don't get in my way''

Alan appeared beside him. ''Come on, brother. I'll leave you alone for tonight. There will be no games played.'' Alan grabbed him. ''Hey, I'm being nice here.''

Edgar laughed coldly. ''Nice, Alan! That word is foreign with you.'' Edgar pushed his arms off his jacket and it was his turn to grab him. ''Why are you here? Cut the bullshit. It's not mom.''

''Alright.'' Alan glowered and creased down his shirt when Edgar let him go. ''I need blood''

Edgar stared at him for several minutes, and then walked away, his lip curling back in distaste. Why was he not surprised it would be along the lines of that? He didn't ask why he needed it, when Alan was out happy killing and feeding off humans. Edgar didn't want to know why. He felt Alan move behind him, and anger formed within. This time he didn't stop when he got closer towards the double doors. He dodged children, and nurses, that distaste rising even more on his face. Alan moved beside him then, and Edgar shoved his hands into his pockets, keeping his eyes straight ahead of him. He blocked out the smells of the hospital, and blocked out the sounds. Pushing the door open, he walked into the ward. Alan hovered behind him then, and Edgar's eyes swivelled towards him when he caught him looking at a patient that was sitting down on a chair, bringing tissues upon tissues to her bloodied, pouring, nose. Alan shrugged then, and met Edgar's eyes, a malicious smirk appearing on his face. Edgar glowered deeply, and turned away from him. The look vanished from his face when he came to a stop at the desk.

A nurse looked up at him. ''Can I help you?''

''I'm here to see Elena Frog''

''And you are?''

''Her son'' Edgar replied and looked down the ward.

''And you are?'' she asked, addressing Alan.

''Her son as well'' he answered, and glanced at Edgar. He looked back at her. ''How is she?''

Edgar scoffed at the caring son role Alan was playing. No one saw through the facade, all but Edgar. It did nothing but disgust him, and he was angry that Alan had dared to step foot inside the hospital. The receptionist beckoned over a nurse, and began to talk to her in quiet whispers. Edgar turned to look at the wall, crossing his arms as he did so. Alan turned also, and scanned the posters that were hung up all over the wards. His eyes were concealed under the hat he wore, and Edgar made a noise under his breath, turning his eyes back to the wall. Within minutes, the slight, quiet, ward became alive again. Nurses moved back and forth from rooms to rooms, there white shoes squeaking against the shiny floor as they paced about. The sound of fingers hitting a keyboard made its way to Edgar's ear, and then violent fits of coughing came from the room that was no less than three feet away from where the two stood. The sickness came back with a vengeance, and Edgar glared hard at the wall when he felt Alan's eyes turned towards him. Alan chucked quietly and then began to whistle low. Edgar found himself glancing at his brother, making sure he wasn't planning to grab someone and pull them into a room. Again, Edgar knew Alan was smarter than to feed inside a hospital, but then again, Alan had his ways around things. The two immediately straightened up when the nurse came to a stop in front of them.

She looked up from the clipboard. ''She's awake at the moment, but I'm afraid things are turning for the worse. If you'd follow me.''

They stopped outside the end room of the ward, and Edgar glanced at the three empty beds, then to the one where a curtain was closed all around it. Alan slouched against the door frame, and looked out the large clear window, his face looking slightly bored.

''I can't see why you're here, Alan'' Edgar muttered. ''Leave now''

Alan ignored him and looked away from the window when the nurse moved towards them. Another two nurses came into the room, and both watched them vanish behind the curtain. The beep of a monitor was heard, and Edgar heard his mothers, quiet, scratchy voice. It floated to his ears and he shook his head.

''Okay, so we've been feeding your mother a drip.'' The nurse put the clipboard under her arm. ''I'm afraid it's no use, nothing is working. She doesn't eat, barely drinks..she does nothing but lay there''

''Willing herself to death'' Alan said and turned to look at the nurse. ''I've seen it...Is there nothing you can do at all?''

''She wishes for nothing from us, she refuses, and we cannot do anything. You can see her now''

She walked out of the room, and both moved towards the bed. Alan slipped behind the curtain, but Edgar hesitated. Shaking his head, and clearing his thoughts, he too, moved behind it. Alan was perched on the end of her bed, and Edgar forcefully pulled him off it. He scowled, and sat himself down on a chair. Age had caught up with her, but it wasn't that that made Edgar feel sick. Her complexion was frail, sickly. His eyes wandered to her hands, seeing the skin stretched far back over her, bony, pale knuckles. Her figure was a living corpse, her scruffy hair had lost it's shine. Life was slowly being sucked out of her. Edgar turned away, and resting his elbow on his knee, leant his cheek into his palm. Alan began whisitling, and then tapping his feet on the floor. Her eyes snapped open then, and they landed upon Edgar. He sat up.

''I didn't hear you come in.'' Her voice was weak, hollow. ''You look different, Edgar.''

''So do you, mom'' he said in an emotionless voice.

She laughed, but it didn't reach her eyes. ''My life has come to an end on this earth.''

''And what a fine one you had, mother.'' Alan picked bits of dirt from underneath his long nails. ''Any regrets?''

She turned to look at him. Edgar heard the picking up of her heart on the monitor, and if it was any more possible, saw the colour drain from her face. Disgust, and fear came into her, once, near dead eyes. ''Edgar, what is he doing here! Why have you not killed him?''

Edgar felt no surprise at this, and Alan chuckled. Both had been amused when they found out their, stoner, parents were once, legendary, vampire hunters in the world of darkness. And then they just stopped, retired at an early age, started getting stoned, then had Alan and Edgar, got stoned even more...Edgar had to agree with Alan, what a fine way they had lived.

''Edgar!'' Her voice rose slightly. ''You're telling me...that's he's a demon...that... this is a demon, a blood drinker, and you are happy with this. Why have you not killed him.?''

''Mother, mother, mother'' Alan shook his head. ''You break my heart, really you do.''

''If only you had a heart, and I'm not your mother.''

Alan mock gasped in hurt. ''Mother, that stung me.''

''Alan, leave'' Edgar muttered darkly.

Alan shook his head. ''No, I don't think I will, Edgar. I have to say goodbye..

''You've said it.'' she began to get restless. ''Leave now, demon.''

He stood up. ''Very well. A parting gift then.''

He glided towards the bed, and Edgar tensed when he grabbed her hand and kissed it. He turned towards Edgar, and stared at him deep in the eyes. Edgar stared back wth an expressionless face, yet the tense of his shoulders never left him. He could still hear his mothers' mumbling words, hear the beat of her heart increase on the monitor. That chuckle came again, and Edgar heard a train in the distance. He looked out the window, seeing it move along the train track, behind the thick, silver, fence. Eyes went back to Alan, and Edgar waited for him to leave. He found his own hand slipping into his pocket, and it grabbed the letter opener. Alan noted Edgar's movement, and he smiled. Tension became thick in the air, and it was there, there in Alan's eyes. Danger. Something was going to happen any minute. Edgar could feel it without his brother saying or doing anything. This time, his eyes didn't move. They stayed on Alan's, and the hand tightened on the letter opener when Alan's eyes began to change. Edgar wished he had brought weapons. No matter where he went at night, he always took weapons with him. There were vampires after him, his name had become known in their world, and all wanted the hunters head on a plate. He was stupid for thinking nothing could have gone wrong inside a hospital, stupid for not thinking Alan wouldn't show up. He should have known how Alan's mind worked, they had been hunting each other for months...

Edgar was hit hard across the head, and he fell off the chair, landing on the cold floor. He groaned and looked up, seeing Alan tilting over their mother. Her heart started increasing high when he heard the crunch of flesh being torn, and Edgar stood up. His arm came around Alan's throat, and he pulled hard. A dangerous snarl left his brother, and Edgar was thrown down onto the chair. Alan slipped the white plug off her finger, and hurridely slipped it onto Edgar's when it sarted to go flat line. His hand hit Edgar hard in the face, and he slumped back in the chair. He moved again, and elbowed Alan hard in the back. The letter opener was produced, and he stabbed it through the flesh of Alan's hand. He let out a hiss. He pulled it out, blood spurting everywhere, and in a second, Edgar was pinned up against the wall.

''I suggest you leave, Edgar. Before I do something I'll regret.''

''You kill her, and when you're done, I'll kill you'' Edgar promised.

Alan sighed. ''She's dying anyway, and I said I needed blood.''

Edgar was thrown over the bed, landing with a small bang on the floor. Pain shot through his head, and he fell down when he went to move. ''Alan, I will kill you, I will.''

''Edgar, you're words mean nothing when it comes to me.'' Alan moved back towards their mother.

''And why her? Is this personal, Alan?''

Alan stopped when he leant towards the bleeding wound. ''No, but I'm just answering your wishes. I know you want her to die.''

Edgar's face darknened. ''By a vampire, by...''

His words were cut off when Alan savagally sunk his fangs back into her neck, and Edgar stood up, resting his hand on the wall when everything span. Blood dribbled down his forehead and he made his way around the bed. He caught onto the bars at the end, trying his hardest not to faint. He could see the small puddle of blood on the pillow, and he bent down, grabbing the letter opener. He stopped behind Alan, and raised it high.

Alan pulled away then, and he turned towards Edgar, grabbing the weapon from his hands. Edgar, feeling faint, stared at him with venom, as his mouth dripped with thick, ozzing, blood.

''There, your wish came true. In future, be careful what you wish for, Edgar.''

Alan turned away. ''Are you going to help me clean this mess up?''

Edgar walked away. ''Do it yourself. This isn't over, Alan. The night will come when you'll die by the hands of me.''

Alan laughed. ''That night will never come, Edgar.''

''We'll see''


Okay, did the ending feel rushed to you? I really did take my time with this. I do hope this was a much better improvement than Dark Vs Light, and Into the Cemetery.