It's probably obvious that I had no idea how to end this story, but the rest of it went completely as I'd hoped it would. As a David fan, I like to imagine what his life was like before Max, hence...this story. I don't own anything but David's family (Susan, Teresa and Rick) -- and I'm not saying this is how it went, this is just my interpretation. Reviews would be lovely.

Cry Little Sister
-------------

1979
Pale blue eyes opened, but immediately closed at the harsh brightness of the sun peeking in through the window. David groaned to himself, throwing an arm over his face, and he silently cursed himself for leaving the blinds open the night before. After a moment or two of struggling to stay awake, he sat up.

A young guy with dark brown hair, David was easily good-looking. He had high cheekbones, almost elegant-looking, and pale skin -- despite the fact that he lived in San Francisco, where most of the residents had nice tans all year round. His body was of a nicer build than most boys his age, and he'd admit to sometimes being a little too cocky about it.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, David let out a yawn, before standing, and stretching his arms above his head. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he shuffled over to the window and closed the blinds, enveloping his bedroom in darkness. He'd probably open them again when he got home from school, but for now the sun was just too damned bright. Feeling along his wall -- careful not to disturb his KISS posters -- he made it to the door and pulled it open, immediately catching a whiff of the breakfast his mother was making in the kitchen.

He and his family -- parents and a younger sister, that is -- lived in a small apartment just off of Sunset Boulevard. It didn't have much space, and David's bedroom was just big enough for his bed and dresser (and nothing else), but it was cozy.

David let out another groan as he reached the closed door of the bathroom. He stopped next to it and leaned casually against the wall, ready to wait, but after about three minutes, waiting was quickly out of the question. He gave three short knocks which were answered by his younger sister's voice.

"One minute!"

He crossed his arms and closed his eyes, resting his head back against the wall. A few more moments passed before the door opened, sending out a small wave of heat. Susan came out, hair still damp from her shower, but she was primped and ready to go to school, wearing more make-up than any ten-year-old should. David smirked when he saw her sporting the dark blue eyeshadow and red lipstick.

"You know Mom's gonna make you take that off." He said.

She grinned and gave a shrug, before starting down the hallway. David shook his head before entering the small bathroom.

A little over ten minutes later he was done and making his own way to the kitchen. His mother was still at the stove, frying something, and Susan was at the table, already eating a piece of toast. Their dad had to leave for work early -- sometime around four-thirty -- but that only meant he got home earlier, which was nice for the family.

Teresa looked over her shoulder and smiled when she saw her son. "Good morning David." She said cheerfully as he pulled out a chair on one end of the table.

"Morning Mom." He returned, sitting down and reaching for the pitcher of orange juice.

As he poured himself a glass he threw a glance at Susan who was looking a little put-off -- the make-up she'd been wearing earlier was gone -- or as gone as it could be; a blue tint still lingered where she'd piled on the eye shadow.

"You two sleep well?" Teresa asked.

Both of her children answered affirmatively in unison, David's answer a little more muffled on account of the fact that he was taking a drink. A minute or so later a plate of hot food was placed before him -- eggs, bacon and toast. Blue eyes rolled, though a smirk twitched to his lips.

"Mom," he said, "When are you gonna stop with the smiley faces?" He used his fork to poke at the eggs on his plate that had been arranged to look like eyes (the bacon being the mouth of course).

Teresa laughed. "Sorry," she replied, "Bad habits are hard to break, I guess."

David laughed, but said no more, starting to eat as well. As Teresa was fixing her own plate though, something large and furry suddenly jumped up onto the table -- a fat and orange tabby cat was apparently hungry. The reaction was instant, Susan gasped and David could feel his eyes just starting to water.

"Sorry David," Susan said quickly, before scolding the cat she'd named Rufus.

Her older brother shook his head as she guiltily grabbed the cat and hurried it off to her bedroom. David quickly covered his face with a hand as he sneezed, but thankfully for him, that was the worst of his allergies. Ever since he could remember, whenever he'd gotten near anything with fur he'd start sneezing like he'd never stop, and his eyes would water so much it would seem like he was crying. But when Susan had found the stray, it'd been near impossible to get her to give Rufus up.

"Sorry." His sister repeated when she returned.

"Don't worry about it," David said, quickly brushing at his eyes. He gave her a smile to show everything was fine. "He lives here too, it was bound to happen sooner or later."

"I really hate having to keep him in there." Teresa said sitting down across from David at the other end of the table.

"If you're suggesting me getting rid of him, you can forget it." Susan said. Her gaze -- dark like her father's -- quickly moved to David. "It won't happen again though, I promise."

David laughed. "God don't worry about it," he said, "It's not gonna kill me."

Susan finally cracked a smile, obviously happy that her brother was in a good mood this morning. She turned to Teresa.

"Do we have to walk to school today?" she asked.

Their mother smirked. "It's such nice weather this morning," she said, "Why would you want to be cooped up in a car the whole way there?"

Susan gave her the look most kids do when they want something, and Teresa laughed. This was taken as a 'yes,' and Susan grinned again. "I call shotgun." She said before sticking her tongue out at David.

And so went a normal morning for David's family.

-------------

The sun was going down when David sat down for dinner -- his father and mother occupied the ends, so this time he sat across from Susan. It was spaghetti night -- David's favorite.

"So you two," Rick asked his children, "How was school today?"

"Like it always is," Susan answered melodramatically. "Boring."

David grinned. "And it'll only get worse, little sister." He said.

"Oh David," Teresa said, "Don't go implanting lies in her head -- high school's great, why you've got prom and the football games."

"Speaking of," Rick said, turning to look at David. "Have you thought about trying out for the team? It's your senior year, son -- I think you'd do great."

David looked down at his plate, making a slight grimace. He hated sports -- he really wanted to be in a band, he loved playing the guitar. He shrugged his broad shoulders heavily.

"I don't know." He answered, "I guess I could."

"You could join the yearbook club." Teresa said as though it were a great idea.

"Mom," Susan said, "Isn't that like a step below chess club?"

Teresa mocked offense and exclaimed that she'd been in the yearbook club when she was in high school. Susan apologized before glancing at David.

"Then again," she said to her parents. "I can kind of see him in that club."

David tried to give her a playful kick under the table, but she'd been prepared and had moved her legs, so his boot caught the chair instead, and he cursed.

"Hey," Teresa said, "Watch the language at the dinner table."

"Sorry Mom." He quickly said, but he threw a cheeky grin at Susan.

And so went a normal night for David's family.

-------------

It was around nine when there was a knock at their front door -- Susan had just been getting ready to lay down for the night, and David was sitting on his floor, back against his bed, listening to one of his records and trying to learn by ear how to play one of the guitar riffs. Brow furrowing at the sound of the knock, he climbed to his feet and went to his door. As he stepped out into the hallway he heard his mother make a comment about how late it was.

He slowly made his way to the living room, where Teresa was just unlocking the door. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, and still with a furrowed brow, he watched the scene unfold before him.

Teresa opened the door to a tall, middle-aged man wearing large glasses. When the man spoke, his voice sounded urgent.

"I hate to bother you this late, ma'am," he said, "But my son, Marko, he seems to have had a fainting spell."

He gestured behind him and David craned his neck some to see a limp boy his age being held up by two others. The one who'd fainted, Marko, and one of the others had blond hair, while the other one had dark hair -- it was a safe assumption that all of them where this man's sons, yet neither of them looked like him.

"We were wondering if maybe we could use your phone." The man concluded.

Teresa, good old hospitable Teresa, took one look at the boy Marko, and quickly stepped aside. "Of course, of course," she said. "Please do come in."

The man stepped in easily, and gestured for the three boys to follow him. Teresa quickly went to one of the couches and messed with the throw pillows on it, telling the boys to sit Marko down as she reached for the phone. She raised the receiver to her ear quickly and checked for a dial tone before handing it to the older man, and sliding the base across the small table it was on so he could dial a number. She threw a look over her shoulder and saw her son leaning against the wall.

"David, could you get a glass of water for this boy?" she asked.

Only he wasn't listening, his eyes were on the four strangers that had entered his house. They looked normal enough -- the boys wore average teenager clothing, jeans and tee shirts, and the man with the glasses was by far one of the nerdiest looking guys David had ever seen. But something wasn't right about them -- and it set David's nerves on edge.

"David." Teresa's voice broke into his thoughts, and he looked to her.

Everyone in the room seemed to be staring at him, and he quickly nodded before turning to enter the kitchen. He carried the half-filled glass out into the living room and held it out to his mother, refusing to go anywhere near the strangers, and she shook her head as she took it from him.

"Rick," she said to her husband, who was fluttering at her elbow. "Could you get a blanket from the closet?"

He obliged, eager to help -- that was David's parents, aiming to please and willing to do everything in their powers to make others happy and healthy. David looked to the teenaged boys again and felt his eyes narrow at the look the dark-haired one was giving him -- a look that made David feel as if everything going on was a joke.

"David."

His gaze snapped up -- the man with the glasses had spoken his name. It took a moment for the young boy to realize how the stranger knew his name, but he remember Teresa making a big deal about the water.

"I see you're a KISS fan," the stranger said, gesturing to his shirt.

David looked down at his tee shirt, before he gave a short nod.

"My boys and I had the pleasure of seeing them a few months ago," the man was trying for conversation.

David glanced at the three guys on the couch again, before he gave another nod. "Good for you." He said stiffly, before he turned on his heel.

"David!" Teresa exclaimed, but he continued down the hall, though he could still hear their conversation, "Sorry -- he's not normally this...grouchy."

"It's okay, ma'am," the stranger said, "Boys will be boys."

"Oh please, call me Teresa."

Susan was standing in her doorway holding Rufus as she looked towards the living room. As David passed her she asked:

"Who's the dork?"

David only shrugged and went into his bedroom shutting the door almost all the way. Through the crack he left in it, he saw Susan set Rufus down and shut her door before going down the hallway. David shook his head before going to his closet -- one of his records was still playing, and he nodded his head in tune with it. He had a habit of picking out the clothes he'd wear the next day -- he'd been that way since elementary school.

Not able to find the pair of jeans he wanted, he had to go deeper into his clothes-packed closet. As he did however, he heard a loud and muffled thump coming from the living room, followed by a short gasp from Teresa, and a cry from Susan. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and David's whole body froze.

He convinced himself that he'd never heard anything so bad in his entire life.

Forgetting the jeans he quickly went to his door and threw it open. The light in the living room was different -- as if a lamp had been knocked over, and he found this was the case when he reached the end of the hallway. But there was enough light to see just what had happened.

His parents lay on the floor, side-by-side, both in pools of blood. He couldn't tell where they'd been hurt -- it was sickening to look at -- but he knew they were dead. It was instinct. He turned to find Susan cowered in a corner, face a mess with tears -- unbelievable that not a second before she'd had a cheeky smile on her face as she asked about the man in the glasses, who now stood above her, menacing.

David reacted instantly -- with a growl, he started towards the man. "You stay away from her!" He snapped.

Two pairs of arms roughly grabbed him and he realized that two of the boys that'd come with the man had grabbed one of his arms each. It was in this instant that David saw the face of the man in the glasses -- well actually he didn't even wear the glasses anymore -- his eyes were yellow, red-rimmed and this could be seen even from David's distance. His face had changed into a grotesque mask of sorts -- his brow bent and bumpy, and when the man grinned, two sharp fangs were so very visible.

With wide eyes, David glanced to his right and left -- the dark-haired and second blond were holding him, each with the same sort of mask, and the same yellow eyes.

"Who the Hell are you people?" David asked, voice cracking in his own fear.

The older man gave a chuckle. "Well," he said, "I do suppose since we know your name, it's only right that you know ours. I'm Max -- and my boys holding you are Paul and Dwayne. I believe I've already introduced Marko."

A laugh came from across the room and David looked to the couch where the smallest boy -- the one who'd had the 'fainting spell' was seated. Like the others, his face was horribly distorted into something from a comic book, and he looked much better than he had earlier. He waved at David, whose gaze darted back to the man, Max.

"What the fuck are you?" he demanded.

Max made a face as though he were hurt. "We're just like you David -- just like your lovely sister here," he turned to throw a look at Susan, who gave a short noise and buried her face in her arms. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

The cronies hold him, Dwayne and Paul, each laughed like Max had just made the best joke of the century. Max grinned and raised his eyebrows mockingly.

"Well, I guess that is a lie," he said, "There's just a few small things you should be afraid of -- but that's besides the point, David. You're a right strong young man, anyone can see that. Join us, David."

More laughing from the three stooges, Dwayne, Marko and Paul. David's eyes moved slowly over the scene in front of him again, lingering on his parents a little longer than before -- each had gaping wounds in their throats. He looked back to Max who was studying him intently, and he shook his head -- this couldn't be happening. Not to David -- not to Susan. This couldn't be happening.

"Fuck you." He would try and remain tough -- if only for Susan's sake.

Max made a face again. "Well, I certainly hope your language picks up in the future, David." He said.

"Fuck you." David repeated with venom in his tone.

Max sighed heavily, as if he'd just made a hard decision, and he turned away from David. With lightning speed he reached down and grabbed a harsh hold of Susan's upper arm, and she screamed as he yanked her to her feet.

"No!" David cried struggling with Dwayne and Paul -- their grip was unbelievably tight, bruising his skin no doubt. "Let go of her!"

Max turned back to David, and when he spoke his voice seemed to be full of a sort of sympathy.

"David," he said sadly, "We all had to lose something -- it's your turn. And then you'll be a part of our family."

"Your cult!" David said -- he'd heard of these kind of things on the news. This gang was probably some sort of murdering cult who went around, getting their kicks out of torturing people --this of course didn't explain the way their faces suddenly looked, but nothing could explain that. "I'll never join you!"

"But you will," Max argued. "Even if you don't know it yet."

Grabbing a handful of Susan's hair, Max sharply pulled her head back, baring her neck to him. She whimpered slightly, struggling against him, but apparently he had just as strong a grip as the others, if not stronger. Max started to lower his mouth to Susan's pale throat, and David tried to tear himself from Dwayne and Paul's grasp again.

"No!" he shouted once more.

And he was forced to watch as the fangs punctured his little sister's throat, tore into her flesh with strength. She gave a groan of pain, but Max had hit some sort of blood vessel, causing crimson to spray from the wound, and she passed out quickly. David's vision grew blurry as he watched Max drink her blood -- he'd started crying, and he couldn't help it. As his sister's now lifeless body was dropped to the floor carelessly, David felt himself grow dizzy, and his vision grew darker before he paused out, falling limp in the arms of the two vampires holding him.

Vampires.

This was not a normal night for David.

-------------

When David's eyes opened, he prayed to anyone who would listen that it would've all just been a terrible dream. But as his vision cleared, and he found Max standing above him, back to normal and wearing his glasses again, the reality of it all slapped him like a bag of bricks. With a short growl he tried to lunge for Max's throat, but found he was tied to his bed -- his own bed. Max smirked, seemingly amused by this display.

"David, David, David." He said, shaking his head slowly. "I know your angry with me, but I did this for you."

"Go to Hell!" David spat. "Fuck you!" And he let loose another string of obscenities.

Max waited until David stopped, having to take a few breaths for all the yelling he was doing, and then the older man held out a glass. Inside of it was a red sort of liquid -- it was thin, almost looking like a red wine. And it was clear that Max wanted him to drink it. David quickly turned his head away.

"Come now, David." Max said. "Let your sister live on -- let her live on through you."

David felt tears slowly come to his eyes again, so he quickly closed them. But he opened them soon afterwards -- for all he could see when he closed them was Susan's face -- the last expression he'd seen on her -- fear.

"You'll live forever, David."

He really hated the way Max said his name -- it sent chills up and down his spine. But then he realized what had been before his name and he slowly turned to face the man. Max nodded, small smile coming to his face.

"Forever," he repeated. "Your sister -- your whole family even -- can live on forever through you. You'll never die David, and you'll be stronger than anyone."

David's gaze fluttered to the glass in Max's hand, but he looked away quickly. Max sighed and his free hand was suddenly on the back of David's head. The teenager would never admit that Max had a comforting touch -- this man who'd just brutally murdered his whole family -- had a comforting touch.

"Let it be so, David. Let them live."

David felt like he was being brainwashed, but he was so depressed, and so exhausted with the night's events, that when the glass was raised to his lips, he allowed himself to drink it.

-------------

1986
A young man with bleached blond hair was leaning against the wall, black gloved hands stuffed into the pockets of his black coat. Santa Carla's boardwalk was littered with people of all ages, laughing and having a good time. But the young man seemed quite bored himself, and icy blue eyes moved slowly over a few of them, almost as if he were considering making a meal out of them.

David had changed.

He was harder -- tough as nails now. The bleached hair he now sported was styled somewhat into a mullet -- a short mullet -- and his left ear was pierced. His skin seemed to have gotten paler, and there was a rough patch of stubble growing on his jaw.

But he hadn't aged a day.

Neither had Marko or Paul, both of whom stood to his right, cracking jokes about some of the people they saw, not being inconspicuous at all when pointing a certain girl's chest or something. The only thing that had changed was their clothes -- more of a punk look than back in the seventies -- and their hair had grown out a bit.

"Sorry."

Dwayne appeared on David's left, returning from some errand or something he had to do. Everyone knew that was a lie -- he just liked going down to the ice cream parlor to get a look at the short-skirted girls who worked there, it was well known that Dwayne had a taste for long legs on girls.

David said nothing and started down the boardwalk, the other three quickly on his heels. It was ironic how he'd gotten to the position he was in with their little family. It was almost as if he was the leader, and nobody complained. Nobody seemed to care that he was bossy and arrogant. Nobody but him. He missed his life, but would rather be caught rotting in the bottom of a well than admit it.

As he walked past the window of the video store he made a face at the sight of Max. He'd never quite forgiven the man -- though he was completely justified in that. Max knew it too, which was perhaps why the two of them barely ever spoke -- the older man (who like the others, hadn't aged a day) rather liked relaying messages from Marko to David.

They were passing the open door when Max glanced up, expression changing into a slightly worried one. He hated when David was around him, especially if there were other people there -- the customers in the store. David assumed it was because Max was afraid he would say something about what they were. As if David was that stupid.

He snorted and gave Max a cocky smirk before they continued past the store. Behind him, Paul was pointing out a redheaded chick and making a loud comment about her perfect body, but David had caught sight of something else. Someone else.

Her.

A real beauty with long dark hair and tanned skin. She was leaning against a wall and watching people pass her, giving polite smiles every now and then to those that offered her a glance. She looked like she waiting for someone, and she looked sad -- very sad.

David felt his pace slow -- it was unintentional, that was for sure. But she reminded him of someone. And he knew who that someone was the moment he laid eyes on her.

Susan.

His little sister would've been around the same age as this girl had she been living -- her hair was the same shade, the exact same shade, and the clothes that the girl was wearing were the exact kind Susan would've went for. Everything about this girl screamed 'Susan!'

David swallowed and cut off from his group, slowly nearing the girl. Her dark eyes met his when he was about four feet away from her, and he felt something of a kick to his gut.

"All alone?" He asked.

She straightened, fixing her shirt some and nodded, offering a little smirk. "I'm waiting for someone."

"Maybe you were just waiting for me." He said.

She gave a light laugh and looked down awkwardly -- she was infatuated by his charm no doubt. She thought he was hitting on her, but no, he was only interested in the sister aspect of this girl -- his family could sure use a little sister -- one he could actually protect. One that they wouldn't kill in cold blood before him -- Susan could finally live on through someone else instead of him.

"What's your name?" He asked.

She raised her eyes to his and was still smiling. "Star."

"Star." He repeated. "I'm David."

And so began a friendship.

-------------

1987
Star sighed heavily as she watched David ride off on his bike with the others -- ever since she'd met him she'd liked him -- liked him more than a friend. Even when she found out how hard a man he was, even when he tried to turn her into a vampire. But he always treated her like a little sister -- nothing more, nothing less. She was a sister to him, and he would never lay a hand on her -- in fact, the only time she got to touch him was when she rode on the back of his motorcycle.

She'd never understand him.

She turned and started towards the crowd of people with Laddie right at her side, small hand in hers. They'd picked him up just a week before, and he'd taken a quick liking to Star. The little boy looked up at her, young mind easily figuring out that something was wrong.

"Star?" he asked.

She gave him a smile and shook her head, but said nothing. He understood the gesture and returned the smile, before the two of them took off together, running towards the stage where the saxophone player was.

She caught the other man watching her from afar -- he was good-looking; long dark hair, masculine jawbone and practically perfect eyebrows. And he liked her.

She tried to ignore the blue eyes -- the blue eyes that were much nicer than David's -- tried to ignore the feeling of excitement in the pit of her stomach. But after a while she couldn't take it, and telling Laddie that she really didn't like the saxophone player, the two left.

The next time she saw the dark-haired man, she struck up a conversation with him. She told him she'd pierce his ear if he wanted, and he fawned all over her -- doing what she wished David would do.

His name was Michael.

And she liked him.

And so ended any and all of the feelings Star had for David.

-------------

When David met Michael, he instantly hated him. Hated him with a passion that one could never explain. He told Star that Michael should be her first kill -- he'd been hoping she could do it -- he'd been hoping she would fit into his mold of a perfect little sister, even if she wasn't related to him.

And that was what made him crazy with rage. Star would never be Susan.

This was why he yelled at Star, why he treated her bad. And yet the whole situation had turned on him -- his mistreating of Star was why she moved onto Michael. Why she later betrayed David.

Why David was killed.

And so ended his suffering.