Disclaimer: I do not own The Lost Boys.
WARNING: This story contains MAJOR spoilers for the end of the movie.
Max's eyes fell upon the limp form at the end of the room. He slowly made strides towards the seemingly sleeping blonde. His heart skipped the second he noticed the antler that impaled his little one's heart. He stopped in his tracks and merely stared at the innocent appearance of his child, trying to convince himself that the boy had fallen into unconsciousness, that he would awake any second.
Max moved his tongue behind his lips. His throat swallowed a wad of saliva that had been lunged at the back of his mouth. The hollow form slept peacefully as he did the days before his innocence was shattered. The moment he took the youth in he knew he could never sleep soundly again.
Max knew the images that danced behind the eyes of his kind. Every night before drifting into slumber there was that fear that someone bent on revenge could sneak into their homes and drive a wooden stake through their hearts before they had the chance to defend themselves. It happened to his first wife, the one intended to be David's mother long before he met Lucy. Even now that Thorn did guard his home that paranoia never left. The memories of the ones they mercilessly tormented for their meals seeped through their shut eyelids. The screams of terrified women clutching to the ground for dear life only to be hoisted into the air before having their throats ravaged replayed every night, torturing the small bit of them that longed for their former human morals.
The light glistened on the boy's face. Max reached out his hand to turn his son's face to meet his own. His fingers shuddered at the frigid feel of the undead flesh. The shining light illuminated David's features. Max breathed in the childish innocence of the boy. He stared at the hollow being, never again to hear David's smart aleck retorts or receive the smirks of one rebelling against his father, a typical teenage behavior. It would have been another two hundred years before David outgrew that phase. Max felt a sob rise up in his throat. David, the only other creature on earth he could trust, was now no longer a part of his life. Although he would never admit it to his other three, David was his favorite son, the one he loved the most.
In a way Max envied his son. David could now sleep peacefully. No longer was his slumber to be tormented by the horrendous acts of the carnage he committed for survival. His hollow frame free of any guilt, he could now rest in peace.
Max removed his hand from David's slumbering form. He still refused to admit that his boy was no longer living. To him, he was merely asleep.