David opened his eyes, the link with Michael was getting stronger the closer they got and their brief conversation had been an important one; he knew Michael was still mostly sane, now it was his own sanity that he had to worry about. At least he had the boys with him to help maintain his mind. Being separated from your mate did strange things, starting with hallucinations and ending with mass murder and insanity until you were reconnected with them, even after that it wasn't always possible to fully come back from it.

They were nursing coffees at a gas station diner while Dwayne examined the map he'd taken from their evening meal (with only a few bloody thumbprints on the Gulf to show for it.) "They could be at a campsite. An old pit stop. Somewhere with a water hookup. They may be stupid, but they're not stupid enough to be anywhere surrounded by people," Dwayne surmised, glancing at Paul who was leaning over the back of their booth with his chin on his hands as he watched a couple of girls walk by.

David rubbed the bridge of his nose, "he's still a fair distance away, probably within thirty miles or so."

Paul settled back down in his seat, propping his arm up on the table so he could lean against it, "guess they thought they were safe. You think we'll find them tonight?" He was filled with frantic energy tonight. Not because of the coffee, or the excitement of traveling, but because they were finally going to make good on Marko's death. Paul had already called dibs on Edgar Frog.

"Probably not, more likely tomorrow unless we get lucky." Dwayne said, looking at David, a hint of worry in his eyes.

"You alright, bud?" Paul clapped David on the shoulder, "didn't eat much out there." He nodded towards an RV parked at a distance from the diner. It had been an easy place to hunker down for the day, but most of the family inside had gone to waste.

"My head hurts and I want to torture Sam until he begs for me to end his miserable life." He bit out sharply, "I feel like I'm losing my mind." He dug his fingers into his hair, bowing his head.

"Why haven't they killed him?" Dwayne voiced their unspoken thought aloud, "they've been hunting for years. All around the Luna Bay area, sometimes in the sticks in Santa Carla. So are they using him as a trap now? Why did they wait so long?" He spoke just barely above a whisper so passersby wouldn't overhear their conversation. It was always fun to massacre a crowd, but they had other errands to run tonight.

"All I know is they're going to feed him animals. No idea what's going on in their heads, Michael didn't give me too much to go on. Doubt he knows everything they're planning on doing but they don't seem to want to kill him, at least Sam doesn't." David paused, "maybe I can get the connection back and maybe he found out something else but it makes my head hurt more when the link is cut by distance."

"Ugh," Paul wrinkled his nose in disgust, "animals? That's just sick."

Dwayne folded up his map, "not much time left before sunrise. You wanna ditch the RV and sleep in the ground tonight just in case anyone comes knocking, see if we can make another half hour on the bikes?"

"Yeah, the closer we can get the better. I need to get back in touch with him to find out if he knows anything else. Hopefully before they try to feed him a dog."

"Wherever they've got him, hope they've got plenty of soap and water to clean up the mess," Paul remarked, looking out the window, "remember all those halfies Max kept hanging around? Wouldn't let them feed, just gave them hamsters and gerbils for snacks?" Hard to forget their former head vampire's twisted games. They never lasted. He'd been planning to do the same thing to Michael's family, too.

"I wonder if it's better to go without than to try to eat an animal." David said thoughtfully, "probably is but maybe if those idiots see what happens when one of us eats a dog they'll rethink things."

Dwayne shook his head, standing up and tossing a crumpled five dollar bill on the table, "or they'll just switch to cat."

"There's a zoo around here, right?" Paul snarked, offering a lighter to David when he noticed their leader reaching for the cigarette in his front coat pocket.

David took it, lighting his cigarette before handing the lighter back, "yeah, I think so, why?"

"Let's drop them off in a lion cage, get the fuckers riled up and see if they're hungry too. I know Mikey's probably starving."

Dwayne smirked, "the smell would put them off." His smile faded as he looked back at David, examining his features closely, "just try to focus on something else. Remember when he tried to ditch us in the beginning? We'll find him. Just like we did then."

David took a deep breath, closing his eyes and nodding, "yeah, we'll find him, one way or another."


A month to the night Marko had been killed, and subsequently by pure good luck Max, Dwayne noticed Paul was finally digging through his tape collection again. It wasn't much, but it was a start. They all felt pretty surreal going through the mourning process. Paul, especially, was a little more quiet. It sucked. Neither Dwayne nor David had ever imagined they'd actively want the wilder member of their pack to run his mouth off.

Dwayne silently strode over to the fountain where Paul had his box of tapes, standing behind him as he watched. "AC/DC," he suggested, "Back in Black."

As if on cue, Michael slipped into the lobby, hands firmly shoved into his jacket pockets as he glanced back over his shoulder with a scowl on his face, "I was just checking on them. I was gonna come back."

David looked over at him with slightly narrowed eyes, "did we say anything about it? Not that you should really be spending time with them anyway, it doesn't do you any good."

"My mom thinks I'm dead. The house looks like someone dropped a bomb on the garage. They're moving. I wanted to make sure they were okay." Michael pointedly sat down on the far end of the couch, putting as much distance as he could between himself and David's rusted throne, "I don't want them to go."

Never mind that the Emersons were all better off if they did leave Santa Carla. Most of all, Michael's little brother. David stood, walking over to Michael and laying a hand on his shoulder, "they're better off leaving. For them and you."

The brunette's scowl deepened, "I want to say goodbye."

"That'd be nice," Paul bit out, tossing the box of cassettes to the ground with a loud clatter. Dwayne sat down beside him at the fountain, ready to move if he had to prevent the rocker from doing something stupid. Like breaking the AC/DC tape he'd dug out and set aside. Or losing his temper.

David gave him a pointed looked before looking back at the brunette, "Michael, come with me, let me help you." He said softly.

Michael looked up at him, his scowl softening a little, "where are we going?"

"You and I are going to go get your mind off things, help you and I stabilize a little bit, not just us but Dwayne and Paul too."

Dwayne nodded silently, reaching over to grab the cassette from Paul's hand and slip it into his own pocket for safekeeping. They needed a little fun tonight. Maybe David would even get a chance to see what new things he was capable of, taking over the helm after Max's tragic death. Tragic because they hadn't had a part in it.

David slid his fingers through his hair, "come on, you'll like this."

Michael looked like he was going to argue, but the tension in his shoulders relaxed when he looked over at Paul, and maybe a hint of guilt flitted across his features before his scowl disappeared altogether, "alright. I guess. If I have to."

Dwayne smirked, crossing his arms, "you have to."

David took his hand, pulling him up and leading him into the back.

Paul and Dwayne watched them leave, and Dwayne had a suspicion he probably knew what David was planning. Risky move. Was he really that worried Michael would try to run off and leave with his old family? He supposed it didn't really matter. Dwayne knew David well enough by now. He was bound to mate with Michael sooner or later.

"So," Dwayne said, once the silence had stretched on long enough to be sure they weren't going to be back for awhile, "Paul. You buy any comics lately? I only ever see those burn-outs running the store nowadays. Guess the kids are on the day shift."

"Wish we could find out, I'm going to kill them both, especially that bandana wearing freak, what was his name? Ed?"

"Sounds about right. Eddie Munster, maybe," Dwayne joked dryly, "would you settle for their parents tonight? Bring them back for a nice midnight snack?" It wasn't exactly ideal, but at least it was a nice start. It would certainly send a message.

Paul perked up a little, "yeah, yeah, let's go get some takeout. I'm sure David and Michael want some alone time." He paused, "think them mating will help us?" He asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

"You mean will he let us turn little Sammy into breakfast?" Dwayne laughed, "nah. He'll stop running off, though. I think." It wasn't something either of them had ever had any experience with. When you live forever, committing just as much time to mating with someone was a little intense. If one of them died, the other would follow pretty quickly.

Dwayne gave Paul a good shove, "now get your mopey ass outside before I drag you out. They're closing soon and I don't want to have to chase their car down the freeway."

Paul punched his shoulder as he walked past him and out of the cave. "Hurry up, slacker."

"Let's fly," Dwayne suggested, following him into the oddly clear night, "easier to bring back leftovers that way."

The best thing about the boardwalk? It was practically within walking distance from the sunken hotel. Gathering the mortals hardly took more than an hour at most, even taking into account their short run to their car, the subsequent destruction of said car, and their manic struggles all the way back home. Meals were always better fresh.

Paul's excited howls announced their arrival in the lobby as they tossed their quarry to the ground. David and Michael must have had a good time without them, because they were haphazardly dressed and relaxing on the couch together.

Dwayne put his foot on the man's chest before he could scramble to his feet, while Paul happily tore into the woman. "Have fun?" Dwayne asked in a casual tone, ignoring his thrashing quarry and applying more pressure with his foot.

Paul grinned, licking his lips before diving back in, his face covered in blood.

Michael reluctantly tore his eyes away from the bloodied victim in Paul's grasp, "...yeah," he admitted. "A little. I guess."

David trailed his fingers through his hair lazily, "yeah, was a good time. You?"

"Got a good workout," Dwayne replied, the bones in his face shifting as he looked hungrily down at the man beneath his foot. "Wanna help finish this one off? We can drop the scraps back off at the comic shop."


"Can't believe he's just sitting outside chatting it up with that bloodsucker in the middle of the night, no stake or holy water or anything," Edgar grumbled, glancing down at his greasy bar burger and beer, "makes me sick." This was either going to be the end for their friend, or the rude awakening he'd needed for the last twenty damn years. Either way, Edgar could confidently say that neither he nor his brother Alan were that stupid.

Alan let out a grunt, "what're we gonna do with him? Can't just let the thing live but Sam's gonna be pissed if we just go in and stake it."

Edgar took a gulp of beer, using the sleeve of his army jacket to wipe droplets from his bristly chin, "for now, we just gotta make sure it doesn't get out. This is our chance to get 'em all, Alan. These are the same things that got mom and dad—probably." They didn't have any evidence, but who else would it be? Those were the only bloodsuckers with a grudge when Edgar and Alan frog were just kids. What were the chances it was anyone else?

"Cowards were too scared to come after us so they took mom and dad instead." Alan said bitterly.

Edgar nodded, "we've been waiting for this for years. Sam'll snap out of it once he sees that thing in the trailer for what it really is. We've gotta set some traps. Either we do it here tonight, or we get on the road and stall for time. Gotta stock up on holy water, anyway."

"How close do you think they are? We got a good spot here, easier to defend than some of the others we looked at."

"No telling," Edgar said with a shrug. "Hey, that mate thing—is it really a big deal? We could use it to our advantage…"

"Far as I can tell, plenty of stories about it. Forms some kind of link between them. They know where each other are, can communicate, some kind of psychic thing. Supposedly unbreakable."

"What happens if we kill one?" They could make it look like an accident to keep Sam from freaking out on them.

"From what I read the other one goes nuts, like killing spree, rampage kind of nuts. Unstoppable killing machine hell bent on revenge." Alan took a drink of his beer, "lot of civilians put at risk."

Edgar frowned, shifting on his bar stool. They didn't have much time to figure this out, but, "there's one way I think we can get an edge—but it's risky." Risky, and maybe just a little stupid too.

"What's that?"

"Now you gotta promise me you won't freak out, Alan," Edgar lowered his voice to a gravelly whisper, "it's for the greater good."

Alan scowled at him, "Ed, what're you thinking?" He said skeptically.

"We can't fight 3 or 4 vampires at once, not with Sam acting all funny right now. Unless one of us gets an extra edge. We ride out tonight and get some distance between us and them—then in the morning, we slip into the trailer and get some blood from fang-boy. Just for a couple days, one of us turns halfie. Stake him when we take care of the others, and problem solved."

Alan sat in silence, staring at his brother, his beer forgotten on the table, "what the fuck, Ed. No, just, no, what the hell are you thinking?!" his voice slowly climbed in pitch as he spoke, eyes wide.

"Calm down!" Edgar hissed, "Alan, listen," he slapped his hands on both sides of his brother's face to bring him in close, pressing their foreheads together, "if one of us is still human, we do what we have to, okay? This is the only way to make sure we get those jerkwads back for what they did to mom and dad!" He ignored the curious onlookers, at this point avoiding a scene was impossible.

"No, no, fuck no, Ed, I'm not gonna help with this, no way." He was panicking but didn't care, this was a scary thought and an insane plan.

"Then I'll do it. If the worst thing happens, I need you to promise you'll do what you have to." Edgar pulled back, meeting Alan's gaze, "we're brothers. Bad monster bashers. We can do this."

Alan closed his eyes, "brothers…"


Sam sat outside the trailer, eyes locked on the door. He had slipped the cat in there an hour ago and hadn't heard anything since then. He had no idea if Michael ate it or not but his brother was silent inside.

"Mike? Did you eat?" If Michael wasn't going to break the silence it fell to Sam.

"It smells like it's rotting from the inside," Michael snapped, "Sam, unblock the window. I'm tired of talking to the wall."

"So you didn't eat it?" He asked, changing the subject, "come on, Mike, you need to eat something. Would Chinese be better?"

"Doesn't make a difference if it's a Chinese guy or not," Michael replied, his voice harsh and gravelly, "just get me human blood, Sam. Why won't you unblock the window? Don't want to look at what I really am? Scared?"

"I can't get you a human! Why can't you eat the cat?" He moved closer, pulling the cloth aside just far enough so he could peer through the window.

"Why can't you eat it?" Michael hissed, jumping close to the window and gripping the bars with clawed fingers so quickly Sam nearly stumbled back.

"I-I could eat it but I have other things I can eat." He tried to sound sure of himself, he tried to sound as if those claws didn't bother him. They'd been within inches of gouging out his eyes.

"I do too," Michael replied, his voice cracking, "plenty of food if you just let me out. Don't make me eat a cat, Sam. I'm your brother, right? Why do you want your brother to eat Fluffy? It'll just come right back up. Then I'll just be hungrier when I'm done, and you'll have a bucket of cat blood to mop up."

He scowled, "but there are vamps that eat animals, what makes you different?" At least he had read about some of them eating animals.

Michael laughed, and the sound was scarier than Sam would like to admit. It was inhuman. Empty. "What makes me different? I'm real. Those are fucking fairytales. Why do you think Santa Carla's the murder capital of the world, Sam? How often do you see dogs washed up on the beach with their throats torn out? Not that simple. I need human blood. Not a cat. Not a hamster. Human."

What was he going to do now? How could he get his brother off the red stuff if he had to eat people?

"Let me go, Sam," Michael whispered, "let me go."

"I-I, Mike, I can't, you're going to hurt someone." He said softly.

"Yeah," he didn't even try to lie, "but it won't be you. If you let me go, before they get here, we can forget this happened. I'm losing myself, Sam. You need to let. Me. Go."

Sam's hand shook as he reached for the door, "Mike…" He whimpered softly.

"They're getting closer," Michael urged, "hurry up. Open the door."

His hand wrapped around the handle, his other hand fumbling with the key before he managed to slide it home and unlock the door. The door slowly slid open, Sam stepping back.

Michael snarled, leaping out of the trailer and all but knocking him over. For an instant he thought he was going to die, when he heard the sound of tires rushing over gravel and dirt. Michael stared down at him, eyes glowing like bright yellow coals, and his face a twisted mask Sam had only seen in his nightmares. Oh god, he was going to kill him!

"Thanks," Michael growled, leaping to the air with a gust of wind that tore at the trees surrounding their campsite.

The sound of a crossbow bolt whizzing through the air made Sam's head snap back to see the Frogs standing by the beat up old truck. Edgar with a crossbow in his hands. Alan rushed over to Sam.

"Why'd you go and do something so stupid?!" He shouted down at him, grabbing the key out of his hand, "why, Sam?"

"I, he, I can't do it." He whimpered softly, "he's my brother."

Edgar notched another bolt and shot again just as Michael sailed through the air far enough that he looked as if he was going to get away. For just an instant, Sam thought that was it. Ed had used a bolt tipped with holy water or something, and his brother would rain down on them in little bits of flesh and leather-but he didn't. He hurtled to the ground in one piece, screaming curses into the dark as he tumbled through an outcropping of trees.

"C'mon, let's go grab it before it gets any bright ideas," Edgar called out, lowering his crossbow and giving Sam a dirty look.

"Hook up the trailer, Sam." Alan ordered, going with Ed to get their prisoner.

"Oh man," Sam mumbled, "oh shit. Oh god. Shit!" He was shaking as he stumbled over to the truck on weak legs, slipping inside and slamming the door. He took a moment to rest his head on the steering wheel and steady himself. He didn't know what was worse, nearly losing Michael forever or nearly letting him go back to those assholes who were responsible for what he was now. He'd very nearly ruined everything. He barely registered the traumatized cat slipping out of the open trailer and darting off into the night.

What he failed to notice as Ed and Alan tossed his brother into the trailer was the small jar of blood in Edgar's hand as the pair got into the truck after hooking up the trailer.

"Drive, we gotta move." Edgar ordered, "gotta give us a little more time."


David hissed, his fingers closing on his right shoulder, eyes golden with pain and anger. "Fuck!" He almost wrecked his bike as pain shot through him. Somehow he managed to pull off the road, nearly dropping his bike as his fingers tugged at his jacket, trying to find the source of the pain. There was nothing there, his skin was pristine, which meant something happened to Michael.

Paul and Dwayne wordlessly parked nearby, rushing towards him.

"Dude, you alright?" Paul asked, looking him up and down.

Dwayne stopped just short of him, "what happened?"

"Michael, he's hurt." David hissed again, "fuck, that hurts." He looked down at his shoulder again, "and he's starving. We have to hurry."

"Shit, man," Paul exclaimed, "you good to ride?"

He rubbed his shoulder again, "I have to be."

Dwayne shook his head, "if he's hurt and starving, he's going to need a lot of blood. You need to feed first, just in case." David's blood would help him heal a lot faster than the Frog brothers or Sam Emerson if it was really bad.

"Then we better find someone to eat first," he adjusted himself on his bike, "let's go. I need to try to contact him again too."

"What do you think happened?" Paul asked, climbing onto his bike and keeping his eyes trained intently on David.

"Felt like he was shot." He pulled out onto the road. The pain was beginning to fade somewhat, but didn't disappear altogether. Michael must have lost a lot of blood. Why did they shoot him? Why was he still alive? He reached out along the threads that bound them, calling to his mate, hoping his was close enough. "Michael, hey, wake up."

The silence that answered was unnerving. He felt a very distant spark, though. Michael had heard him.

"I need you to hold on, just a little longer, we'll be there soon."

Michael's voice in his mind was a muffled whisper, "almost-almost got away. He let me go. For a minute."

"Sam? Who shot you?"

"Fucking Frog. Missed the first shot. He-I think he took my blood."

"Fuck, why would he do that?"

"Don't know…" His voice was fading. They wouldn't be able to stay connected much longer. "They're moving again, David."

"Hold on and if you get the chance to eat one of them do it." He managed before the connection was severed. The passing nights were getting worse. Even in the last half hour or so after they ditched the RV in a fire, David felt like he was losing control of his temper more quickly. His mind kept wandering. He took in a deep breath, he needed his mate, no matter the cost.


If he could climb out of bed, Michael would happily reclaim every single drop of blood he'd lost from both of the Frog brothers, and then some. As it stood, he was stuck wrapped in a crummy blanket unable to even properly sleep while the sun stood high above them, taunting him. The motel room was safe and dark, sure, but without protective earth surrounding him, or his pack, Michael's stubborn instincts kept him agonisingly aware of everything around him. Moving so much as an inch brought a fresh wave of nausea and pain to his shoulder. The muscles had knit back together where that fucking arrow dug into him, but it was raw and healing sluggishly in favour of devoting energy just to keeping him alive. This. Sucked.

"Think he's finally asleep?" One of the Frogs asked softly, looking toward the other bed where Sam had laid down.

"Probably," the other grunted, "when do you think I should drink it?"

"I told you, Ed, I want nothing to do with your stupid plan."

Michael's eyes were half-open, just barely able to watch them through the dim fog of awareness that enveloped him. Edgar Frog was going to drink his blood?!

"David!" Michael called out desperately.

"What? Michael? What's wrong?" David's voice was faint but he clung to it.

"He's going to drink it…" What the hell was the Frog thinking?!

"What?! Fuck, well, there is one advantage to it. You'll have some control over him. Bet the idiot think about that, did he?"

Michael closed his eyes, trying to avoid the intense migraine he could feel pounding in his head to the rhythm of the motel room's cheap AC. "How does that work?" He asked, opening his eyes again so he wouldn't miss whatever stupid shit the Frog brothers did next.

"When he drinks it you'll be able to feel a link between you and him. You can influence his hunger and him, he won't be able to really go against you if you exert enough influence."

"Fine, I'm gonna drink it now. Gotta get used to whatever it's gonna do."

"Ed, no!" Alan hissed, reaching for the mason jar in his brother's grasp.

Ed jerked away from him, "I'm doing it, Alan! Don't try to stop me!"

"Has he done it yet?"

There was the sound of a scuffle before Edgar managed to drink it down. Almost immediately Michael could feel what David was talking about. Distantly, he remembered the few nights he'd spent half human and half predator. Compelled to physically seek out his pack. Sharing that same feeling with Edgar Frog was enough to turn his stomach.

"Yeah," Michael closed his eyes again, "he did it."

"Ed, man, you okay? Holy shit, I can't believe you drank that."

Edgar let out a soft groan, "it actually tasted good." He grumbled, flopping back on the bed. Right beside Michael, who still couldn't reach over to tear out his throat, and now felt infuriatingly less motivated to do so.

"What does it feel like?" Alan asked softly.

"It's like—" Edgar took in a deep breath, and despite himself Michael opened his eyes again to watch him. Turned on his side towards the demented Frog, he was amazed neither of them seemed to notice how alert he was despite how early in the day it must have been. "—It's like floating and swimming at the same time," Edgar slurred. He could have just said he felt drunk, but the idiot had to make it sound more impressive.

David laughed in his mind. "God, I can feel him through you. What an idiot."

"I think we can do this, Alan. We can take them all on. You just gotta make sure I don't snap and turn bloodsucker on anyone," Edgar mumbled, looking around blearily, "monster bashers…" he trailed off.

"I almost want him to eat someone so we can torture him before we kill him." David laughed again, he was getting closer.

"I think I have an idea," Michael whispered to David, weary. Just the effort of reaching out to him was exhausting. He felt a trickle of blood leaking from his shoulder.

"We're gonna set a trap," Edgar mumbled, chuckling softly.

"We'll set a trap."

"What kind of trap?" Alan asked, sounding skeptical.

"We gotta go somewhere they think they're—Alan, it's gettin' all funny-looking in here. When did you grow another head?" Edgar demanded, jerking up.

"Did I act like that?" Michael asked. He didn't remember much from that first night with the boys.

"You had it a little more together, were much more fun. You're not crazy like they are, so no worries."

At least that was some small comfort. "I'm tired…"

"Rest, I'll be there soon."