SUMMARY

The Battle for Santa Carla has come to an end and the gang rises from the ruins beaten, battered, yet all around triumphant. But with the death of one vampire, the floodgates are suddenly reopened. What if David had met the Frog Brothers many years prior to the movie? It's a small world, after all. With a big boardwalk to boot.

Rated T for Language and Future Violence

Disclaimer: I do not own the Lost Boys. I barely own anything in my name at this point.


CHAPTER TWO

Santa Carla, 1984.

Three years ago


...


In a rare moment of irony, David walked across the boardwalk in broad daylight. He sighed, breathing in the cold, brisk air that signaled the beginning of the off season. Santa Carla's pier was practically deserted, the only occupants being a few teenagers with nothing better to do than buy customizable sweatshirts and nurse lukewarm hot chocolates. The clouds were gray, thick enough to block out the sun and shield his skin from a fiery inferno. As he walked, David picked his teeth with a fingernail trying to dislodge a strand of skin still clumped between his canines.

His head rang as the call from Max grew worse with each step. David felt his stomach twist with apprehension. This was the fifth time this month that the alpha had summoned him. It could only mean one thing. Plans were coming into motion. For what? David had no clue. Nor did he want to know, but that of course was not an option.

The bell of the video store chimed as it was wretched opened, the cold January air invading the front like ocean waves. Max's eyes snapped up from where he was helping a customer, locking onto David's expectant blue ones.

"What are you doing here?"

David resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This act of being strangers, of Max playing the innocent store owner haggled by the affronted delinquents was getting old. Damn near annoying. But these check-ins disguised as hoolum harassment were only a way for Max to assert dominance. Remind David of who was in charge and what power-be it to summon, embarrass, or dismiss at the drop of a hat-he had over the blond.

Max's eyes narrowed the longer David remained silent. A zap of pain seared the blond skull like a spear and David drew back, realizing he had been glowering at the alpha. He shook his head to dispel the sensation.

"Can't a guy rent a flick in peace?" David snapped, not looking up. He winced as another bout of pain racked his brain-a warning. Sumit, it read.

David turned towards the racks, thumbing through the options while not really seeing them. Just play the part, report, then leave. When he finally looked up, the smirk of a punk was smattered on his face.

After a baited moment, Max turned back to the impatient customer leaving David a rare opportunity to peruse. Usually, the blond barely made it past the threshold before Max was ordering him to leave. Superficial check-ins. A brief establishment of dominance. Lather, rinse, repeat. Clockwork.

But these days, the meetings had expanded, the summonings becoming more frequent. Something was brewing. Something was up.

David flinched as his shoulder was brushed. The scent of a woman wafted his senses. Perfume. Sea salt air. Hairspray. His nose wrinkled at the last one. That seemed to be the lingering odor these days. Less oxygen, more aerosol.

"Excuse me," she purred, reaching around the blond and grasping a flick. David leaned back and glanced at soft, brown eyes. Her lips curved into a smirk. Small. Flirtatious. He could hear the blood rush to her cheeks.

"Pardon me," he said, holding his arms up in surrender. When he caught a peek at the passing title, David whistled in approval. "Halloween. Nice choice. Sure it's not too scary?"

The woman chuckled, pulling out the tape and glancing over its surface for imperfections. "It takes a lot to frighten me."

"That right?"

She nodded, looking back up. David's eyes raked her form. Average height. Long brown hair. Sharp jawline. The woman was a beauty, and the get up she was in only accentuated her appeal. Ripped jeans. Leather jacket. Her eyes gave him the same once over, sparking approval at what she saw. David barely held back the smirk that threatened to slip as he thought of the prospects of a successful, in-depth conversation. A bedmate, if he played his cards right. Lunch at the very least.

"I never really like Myers," David commented, steering the interaction forward. "Too common."

"Common? He's unstoppable. A killing machine."

David scoffed, pulling out a pack of camels. "He killed the babysitter and a few of her friends. Terrifying." The blond made a dramatic gesture like he was scared before rolling his eyes. He drew a cigarette and offered her one from the pack. She scrunched up her nose in distaste.

David shrugged and pocketed them before turning back to the array of films. His eyes brightened as they scanned the front of one in particular.

"Now this one," he said, whipping it out, "is different." He angled the title so she could see.

"Salem's lot?"

He grinned. "It's a classic."

She smiled despite her disapproval. "Isn't that the book with the vampires?"

"Ah, a woman educated in both literature and film. Bestow my heart."

"I think I'll just stick with this," she said, wiggling the tape.

"And miss out on all the fun?"

The woman smirked, ducking her head when David flashed her a wolfish smile. His dull canines glinted in the fluorescent light, his skin so pale it was nearly the color of pearls. As the red flush spread across her cheeks, David chose to take the interaction further.

. "So, you got a name?"

The woman looked up and playfully raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Do you?"

Undeterred, David gave a flourished bow, "Friends call me David."

"And what do strangers call you?"

"Charming. With a dash of mystery and intrigue."

"I can see why." She laughed despite herself. She opened her mouth to introduce herself but a cold voice from behind interrupted.

"Excuse me miss, is this man bothering you?"

Max loomed over her shoulder, glaring daggers down at David. The prickling of a migraine jabbed at the blond's skull and it took a great deal to keep from wincing at the sensation. Max's gaze softened when the woman turned around to look at the video store owner.

"No, we were just-"

"I'm sorry," he interrupted, stepping around her. "But this one is known for trouble." He snatched the video tape from the blond's hands. "And sticky fingers." He placed it back on the stand.

The woman protested but David spoke first, only to her. "It's only trouble if you get caught." He grinned and winked.

"Watch yourself, boy." The blond saw a flash of yellow seep into the owner's gaze and nearly smiled. The sensation in his head became sharper, stabbing. His last warning.

This is not what you came here to do, David reminded himself. This was supposed to be quick-in and out.

The blond sent a scornful look masked in obedience at the video store owner before reluctantly backing down. He made to step around them, intent on heading to the room in the back of the store where they usually took their face-to-face check-ins, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

"Star," the woman said, her gaze determined. "My name is Star."

David smirked and after a moment, raised her hand to his lips. "Charmed."

He left the two of them where they stood and made his way to the far end of the store. The corners of his mouth, however, crooked upwards when his enhanced hearing picked up on the sound of a tape being tossed back on the stand and Star declaring to take her business somewhere else. Somewhere where they treated innocent customers with respect.

Innocent. David patted the tape concealed in the inner pocket of his duster. Little did she know.

As he rounded the corner, someone suddenly rushed forward, smashing into his hip and jolting him sideways.

Steadying himself on the video stack, David turned and sneered at the kid. "Asshole! Watch where you're going!"

The kid turned, briefly glaring back over his shoulder before continuing on and ducking behind another row of shelves. David blinked, a memory tickling the edge of his consciousness. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Conspicuous curling of the lips. Why did that brat look familiar?

The blond made to move forward, but more bodies shuffled by. More kids, this time a batch of them. They paused at the end of the aisle, looking around. David's hearing fanned out, picking up on their mutterings.

"Where'd that little toad go?" the largest one growled, glancing down the next aisle. "You sure you saw him come in here, Josh?"

Josh, presumably, nodded and walked further towards the back. David glanced at the shelving rack where he had last seen the kid hide behind. A shadow behind the small openings ducked lower, edging slowly towards the entrance of the store.

"Hey Toad!" another kid called out, whilst slowly backing up. "We know you're here! You can't hide forev-hey! Watch it, man."

The kid glared up at the blond as if David was the one who walked into him, and not the other way around. The man raised an eyebrow at the gall. "You're the one who bumped into me, brat."

Unabashed, the kid opened his mouth to spit something back, but a look from the blond had him pausing. The rugrat had took in David's appearance-from the leather duster, the bleached blond hair, the earrings and the wicked glint of his eyes-and thought better of it. Instead, he stepped back as his entourage saddled up behind him and mumbled, "Did you see someone come in here? A dumb looking kid with brown hair?"

"About this tall," another brat with long hair helpfully supplied. He held up his hand for a height estimate.

David's eyes glanced back at the shelves where the kid was before sneering back down at them.

"The only dumb looking kids I see are you lot. Now get lost."

The largest boy looked ready to yell, but the one called Josh smacked a hand into his chest. He was looking at the front of the store where the brown-haired boy had creeped out and reached the entrance.

"There he is!" The kids dipped around David and rushed towards him. The boy looked back with frightened eyes before darting out of the store and down the pier. Jeers and the thundering of footsteps followed until they faded away. David shook his head and continued towards the rear end of the store where Max moved about in the back room, waiting for him.

He braced himself for what was surely a punishment, masked as a meeting.



Twenty minutes later, David stumbled outside of the shop, shaking his head in an effort to clear it. Max's influence was pure agony, a poison seeping through his neurons and zapping his brain with electric pain. Wetness slithered from his nose, dripping onto his lip. David's tongue flicked up to lap the borrowed blood. He cringed as the sour taste permeated his taste buds, nearly gagging at the rancid flavor.

He wiped the rest away with the sleeve of his duster, not caring if the red tint stained his cheek and walked down the pier. It was just past three in the afternoon and waves from the ocean crashed against the sand like furious fists, slowly creeping upwards. The tide was high, the wind cold and piercing. However, it was brighter than before. David halted, a growing sense of dread spreading through his stomach. He looked up and noticed that clouds had parted, muted beams of the sun already shining down onto the boardwalk in a patchwork of yellow.

Shit! David ran, not caring who saw. He crossed the pier, reaching the edge, and without pause vaulted over the rail. He landed clumsily, kicking up sand as the beam of sun grew and stretched across the dunes. His boot barely caught the edge of the light as he dove under the pier and safely into the shadows.

"Fuck me," he muttered angrily whilst brushing sand from his duster. Slowly, he stood and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his jeans. He bit the end of the last stick, pulling it free and swiftly lighting it with a match. Tossing the empty pack onto the sand, David leaned back against one of the wooden pillars and took a deep drag. His mind began to race, the words of Max's orders cycling back around.

More children. More members.

David grit his teeth, practically snarling. More fledglings.

He was not some damn babysitter. This was not what he had signed up for when he gave his life for immortality and therefore relinquished his soul. Max's promise of freedom and fun was utter bullshit. If he had known that this was in store for him fifty years ago, he would have never agreed. He would have never drank the alpha's blood and jumped from the Santa Carla bridge, thus ending a life of abuse in exchange for another in chains.

What a load of utter buulshit.

Movement from the left broke through his musings and David snapped his head to the side as a group of bodies broke through the shadows. Jeering voices rose above the crashing of waves and sand flew as one of the kids stumbled forward, face first. The other bodies pounced, one of them shoving the fallen kid onto his back and straddling his waist. He laughed cruelly, then raised a fist and slammed it down, down, down.

David felt his vision sharpen as the scent of blood wafted up through the air.

"Try that shit again and you're dead, Toad!" One more punch and the brat rose, kicking the kid once more in the gut before leaving. The entourage of three reached the edge of the shadows a few feet away from where David was hidden behind one of the beams and laughed as they passed. One of the kids locked eyes with the blond and the color from his face faded as he saw twin orbs of amber gazing back. He ran out into the sun a moment later, his friends mumbling confused questions before following.

David grunted, recognizing their faces. The kids from the video shop.

He turned back towards the shadows as a groan of pain reached his ears. The smell of blood was still rich, barely diluted by the scent of brine and damp wood. He felt his fangs lengthen. Taking one last drag of his cigarette, David flicked the stick to the side before venturing deeper under the pier.



Blood and sand spurted from his mouth as Alan coughed loudly and rolled over. Wetness poured down his cheeks and whether it were tears, blood, or rising seawater the boy did not know. What he did know, however, was that everything stung. From his face all the way down to his ribs everything screamed with bruising heat and white-hot pain.

Alan ran his tongue over the bridge of his mouth, making sure none of his teeth were knocked loose. He rolled onto his forearms and pushed himself into a kneeling position. The shin of his jeans turned a shade darker as the tide stretched up, rising with the afternoon sun. He sighed, coughing weakly, then slowly maneuvering himself to stand-

-and locked eyes with a person inches away.

"What the fuck!" Alan cried, falling flat on his ass, scrambling away. Sand flew up, scattering with the wind, and landing in his eyes. He cursed, ignoring the grating sensation as he rubbed them roughly, trying to see the figure in front of him. Silhouetted by the sun, the man was crouched low in the shadows, his arms resting on his knees to maintain balance as he watched the boy crawl backwards, unmoving, indifferent.

Where the fuck had he come from?

The man stared, his eyes chipped with yellow light and narrowed into slits. He watched Alan, barely moving even as the boy backed away and opened his mouth to scream. Alan was alone, injured with no way to defend himself if this man was a creep. And the way he was looking at him, voided, the boy wasn't taking a chance. He gulped in air, ready to shout up through the boards, to any passerbys, but the man spoke first.

"Do I know you?"

It was so out of left field that the air gathered in Alan's throat solidified, clogging his larynx and causing another round of wet coughs to bubble up and surface. The boy smacked his chest to clear his airway as the man looked on, immobile save for the slight tilting of his head.

He went on, unperturbed by Alan's wheezing. "I mean, it's hard to tell with your face so fucked up but have we met somewhere? You look familiar."

Alan heaved, his chest rising faster than his heartbeat. As the man's words tumbled around in his mind, brown eyes raked down the figure's form, taking in what he could see of his appearance. A long leather jacket. Mismatched earrings. Bright hair-short and blond. It was Alan's turn to narrow his eyes, a memory flickering, recognition flashing.

"You're that dick who broke our countertops."

And the way he said it, with lips curled up and his teeth gritted tight, David nearly snapped his fingers as the memory of a dilapidated store front swam back. "Right," he said, dragging out the word. "The terror twins who sell shitty comics. Toad brothers, yeah?"

"Frog."

"Right, right." David leaned back, rapping his fingers against his jeans as their first impressions surfaced back through his brain. "S' been a while," he finally said. "How's business? And where's Blondie? He getting clobbered somewhere else?"

A glare. "He ain't here and I ain't fixin' to tell you about my personal life. Now if you could kindly fuck off that'd be great."

David raised an eyebrow, half impressed by his guts, fully amused by his ignorance. The kid had spunk, he'd give him that. "You're the one who dropped in on me, Kermit. I was minding my business."

Alan glanced around at the shadows beneath the pier, the rising tide. "Yeah? Doing what?"

A wicked expression flashed. "Looking for something to eat.

"Food's up there, dumbass", Alan said, jutting a thumb upwards. "On the boardwalk."

David smiled, all teeth. "I know."

A moment of loaded silence passed before Alan shook his head, wrinkling his nose. This conversation had turned, going from strange to fucking weird. The tide had risen, soaking the back of his jeans through. It was time to head home, to make sure Edgar wasn't having trouble either. Giving the man a wary glance, the boy rose, balancing his weight on his uninjured side and stepped back.

The blond rose as well, fluidly, like a dancer. He was so close, Alan jumped, stumbling.

"Ok…" he mumbled, giving the man a wide berth. "I'm just gonna...go now."

"You guys still in business?" David suddenly asked, pulling out a fresh pack of cigarettes. Alan paused, glancing back at him. It had been a month since their first encounter, neither of them crossing paths since.

"We haven't opened. Construction's taking longer than anticipated."

"Hmm. Should've paid extra."

Alan glared. David shrugged, taking a drag. He deliberately sucked in an extra helping of smoke and blew it into the kid's face, smirking when the brat started coughing. His grin, however, disappeared when the boy spat out a glob of spit mixed with tendrils of bright red. Blood. Alan did not notice the way David's vision sharpened, his eyes locked onto the swirl of liquid dripping from the side of the kid's mouth.

Instead, the boy hissed, clutching his chest, feeling a sharp pain. "Shit, I think those assholes broke something. I…" His breathing became shallow, his heart pumping extra to keep up. The blond stumbled back, turning his face towards the shadows, deeper in the black. "Please...I can't-" He suddenly coughed up more mucus, more blood, the red phlegm tinting the sand. Alan reached out, desperate" Can you-!"

The blond's hand snapped forward, grasping the kid's forearm in a death grip. Sharp nails dug into the thin skin, instantly bruising and piercing the surface. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he growled low, his eyes flashing bright yellow as he turned back to glare at the brat. Alan gasped, a wet sound gurgling in his throat. Yanking his wrist, the boy scrambled backward, kicking up sand and tripping over his shoes. He fell, landing hard on his back and did not get up.

It was a good minute before the blond moved, his feature still vamped. David's tongue flicked out, sliding down along his fang as he stared at the kid. His hearing fanned out, listening to the air that stuttered from his lungs. From the sound of it, it seemed like the boy had a few broken ribs and minor liquid in the lungs.

David bent down, eyeing the fresh blood that dripped from the corner of his mouth. The kid would need medical treatment, fast. Another minute passed before David's hand whipped out, swiping up a drop of blood from the boy's cheek and sucked it clean from his forefinger. Or maybe not, he thought, eyeing the prospect of an early dinner. The tide licked at their calves, rising with the twilight. The sun had grown orange, a brilliant ball of fire in a partly cloudy sky. It would be a few more minutes before David could leave the shadows of the pier, and venture out to gather Dwayne. Who knew what the fledgling was doing now.

Fledglings. David cringed, remembering his meeting with Max. He would need to start recruiting more bodies for his gang. More children, as the alpha had put it.

Children…

David's eyes flickered down to the face of the boy below him. A sudden thought hit him. Huh.

Apathetically, David yanked the kid up by the forearm, ripping the sleeve off his wrist to expose the radial vein. Lowering his teeth, he could feel the weakened pulse hit up against his lips. The kid groaned low as David sunk his fangs into the plump vein. One gulp and the blond growled, his primal instincts taking over. The blood was young, still so fresh. David squeezed the arm roughly, propelling more liquid forward. He could feel the pulse grow fainter with each sip, the brat's breathing less frequent with each pull. A few more gulps and the boy would be dea-

"ALAN!"

The sound broke through the dark, ripping David back from the boy's wrist. His head snapped towards the front of the pier, where the sun reached the sand and the shadows stopped at the edge. A boy was leaning into the shade, peering down the dark towards the two figures crouched in the sand. From the glint of light bouncing off his bright hair, David rolled his eyes as he recognized the other brother-the blond with the bad mouth.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM!" he screamed, racing into the shadows. David straightened, dropping the body unceremoniously back into the sand. He wiped his lips with his sleeve and sucked the leftover blood out from between his teeth before turning towards the blond.

One swipe and the kid's throat would be slashed before he even reached his brother's body. His fingers twitched, their nails lengthening.

"YOU FUCKER!" the kid cried out, reeling back his arm and sending it soaring towards the blond's gut. A clawed hand wrapped around the fist, crushing the fingers and yanking the boy down. He landed on his back, splashing into the rising tide and kicking up at the man wildly. David knocked a knee into his chest, holding him in place.

"Stop," David growled, pinning the boy's hands above him. "I didn't do this. I found him like this."

"BULLSHIT!"

"It's true." More or less. "He was beaten by a group of kids. Four of them."

"GET OFF ME, YOU CREEP!" The boy began to buck, swatting at the man with any given opening he could find. David grunted, pressing his knee more firmly into the body below. Why he hadn't slashed this brat's throat, the blond didn't know. He blamed it on his earlier feeding, his stomach sated for the time being. But the more the fists landed their mark, the more David contemplated crushing the kid's chest for the hell of it.

David's hand snapped out, snatching the boy's wrist as it sailed towards his jaw. "Knock it off, Blondie. Your brother found me. I was here first."

"LIAR! WHAT'D YOU DO TO HIM?!" David winced, his enhanced hearing practically ringing from the kid's pitch. He was one shred of patience away from snapping this boy's neck like a toothpick. The kid huffed, his face red and sweaty from adrenaline. But after a moment, blue eyes suddenly blinked, their cloudiness from rage receding a fraction as they stared up at the man above him. Blond hair. Leather duster. Mismatched earrings.

David let go of the boy, practically shoving him away as he recognized his reaction. The kid remembered him.

"Hey!" he screamed, scrambling to his feet. "You-you're that dick who-!"

"Broke your countertop, I know." David stepped back, shucking out his pack of cigarettes without a shred of interest. Thank Satan, he wouldn't get lung cancer. He blew a line of smoke before gesturing down to the prone body at his feet. "Your brother collapsed after they kicked the shit out of him. You might want to do something about that. It doesn't sound like he's taking it well."

The kid gritted his teeth before scrambling up to his brother. His hands hovered above his body, almost afraid to touch him. There was so much blood, so many bruises. "ALAN! COME ON BRO! WAKE UP!"

David flicked some ash to the sand before walking away. The boy whipped his head around at his retreating figure. "Hey! Where are you going?! He needs help!"

"Not my problem." Thankfully, the sun had disappeared behind the clouds. He stepped out from beneath the pier taking a deep breath. Fresh air.

"PLEASE!" The kid called at his back. David glanced at them, his eyes narrowing at the sight of blood that continued to seep into the sand. Involuntary, his tongue rubbed against his fang, still tasting the phantom traces of his previous snack. Sea water seeped into his boots and with a grunt the blond continued forward, away from the boys.

The brats were just lucky he had already eaten. "Better hurry," he called back. "The tide's coming in."

The returning scream for help fell upon deaf ears.



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