DISCLAIMER: Everything you recognise belongs to Warner Bros., Joel Schumacher, Janice Fischer, James Jeremias and Jeffrey Boam. Everything else is mine.

Rated 'M' for strong language and vampire stuff.

Heathens

Leander had run ahead with Marko the minute they hit the boardwalk. The bright lights and tinkling ride music that had seemed cheerful and whimsical the night before, now seemed garish and far too loud. Her head hurt. But now that she knew the reason for her headache, Remy focused on building up her mental walls instead and compartmentalising whatever instinctual fears her mind was generating to warn her away from the boys. She could freak out later. Right now she had a head vampire to track down and a werecat to look after.

Maybe it was because she was hyperaware of the boys now, but Remy found herself noticing little tell-tale signs about them that screamed 'Dangerous Blood Sucker' that she hadn't detected the night before. Remy may not have had all the enhanced senses of a full vampire, but her nose was sharp enough to notice that none of them smelt. Not in the rotting, dead corpse sense but in the way of natural human odour. Under the mask of deodorant, perfume and cologne, everyone had a scent that was uniquely their own. The boys smelt of old smoke, cheap liquor, engine oil and, underneath it all and barely discernable, just the faintest metallic tang of iron. But that was it. No sweat. No body odour.

There were other little signs, things she would've missed if she hadn't been intentionally looking out for them. People around them eyed them with open wariness and mistrust, yet there were also hints of curiosity and attraction behind their stares. It was the same look she caught on people's faces whenever they looked at Belteshazzar. The younger humans, both female and male, would sometimes find themselves trailing after them before coming to their senses, shaking their heads in confusion. Remy recognised it as the effects of a vampire glamour but was surprised that the boys would be using it so recklessly. She had only ever seen Belteshazzar put on a glamour when he was trying to manipulate someone, or when he was hunting. It wasn't until both Paul and Marko slung their arms over her shoulders, grinning at her and attempting to get her to talk to them that she realised that the glamour was for her benefit. They were trying their best to get her to like them. Too bad she could see right through their little tricks.

Remy tried not to cringe at the feel of their arms on her bare skin. Before exiting the big top, she had stopped backstage long enough to change out of her sequined leotard and towering high heels. The sweater she'd thrown on, while comfy, was three sizes too big and kept threatening to fall off her shoulders. The denim shorts she wore had at one time been her favourite pair of jeans but an accident while helping Ignatius practice one of his fire acts had required her to take a pair of scissors to them. Remy stiffened as Paul rubbed her back and laughed.

"You really need to loosen up! Why are you so tense?"

Leander threw a curious look over his shoulder at Paul's question. Seeing the barely concealed annoyance on Remy's face had him laughing too as he turned to face them so that he was walking backwards.

"Remy really doesn't like it when people she doesn't know touches her," the boy explained.

"The only reason she doesn't know us is because she's not giving us a chance," Marko protested. "I swear you'll like us once you get to know us."

Remy was ready with a snide reply but before she could even open her mouth, Leander made the unfortunate mistake of walking into a Surf Nazi. The man whipped around with a threatening growl and would have grabbed Leander if the boy hadn't danced out of his reach and ran back to Remy.

"Sorry!" Leander squeaked, but the Surf Nazi was no longer looking at him, his attention, and that of his friends, now fully focused on David and the others.

The tension in the air was palpable. Remy curiously noted how Paul and Marko's arms immediately slipped off her shoulders and how the boys all took a threatening step forward, not only presenting a united front but imperceptibly shielding Leander and herself from the Surf Nazis. She wondered if it was a conscious action on their part or if they were merely eager to get into a tussle with the other group. She had a feeling it was the later. Leander had instinctively grabbed onto her arm when he ran to her, but now that he was no longer the subject of the burly man's anger, he stared at the scene unfolding before them with barely concealed delight. Remy could practically feel the excitement rolling off of him, as if the boy were eager for a fight to break out. And with how both groups were eyeing each other up, Remy was afraid that he might just get his wish.

The gang of Surf Nazis was the same one that Angus had to forcibly remove from Generys' tent last night. Though this time they had a few females with them who were not ignoring Remy and Leander like their male counterparts. They too seemed to be itching for a fight, one particularly vicious looking blonde eyeing Remy in a way that made her want to punch the other female right in the nose. But she knew she couldn't encourage this. Leander still did not have the best control over his change and she knew getting into a fight might provoke him to shift into his werecat form. They were in too public a space for her to allow that to happen.

Before Remy could do so much as take a step backwards however, a chill crept up her spine. Her head snapped around, taking in her surroundings. They had stopped right in front of a comic book store, probably the same one Generys had told her about. Someone was watching them. And it wasn't just the small crowd that had gathered around them, buzzing with curiosity and barely tempered excitement. This particular gaze felt ancient – predatory – and strangely familiar. It made the hair stand up on the back of her neck. And she knew she wasn't the only one who felt it. Beside her, Leander suddenly shivered and leaned closer against her. There was even a subtle straightening of the spines of the boys in front of her. She felt Leander slip his hand into hers.

"Remy?" he whispered.

"I know, Lee. We should get out of here."

Tightening her grip on Leander's hand, Remy started to turn them around when an obnoxiously loud voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Just where do you think you're going, bitch?"

It was the blonde Surf Nazi – Surf Nazi-ette? She and another woman had broken ranks from the other females, taking a few challenging steps forward, though Remy noted with slight amusement how they kept well out of reach of any of the boys. Leander was tugging on her arm now, eager to get out of there. And she didn't blame him. They were still being watched.

"Didn't realise I needed your permission to go anywhere," drawled Remy, deliberately keeping her expression bored and unimpressed. She tightened her hold on Leander's hand as the intensity of the mysterious predatory gaze seemed to increase, like a laser boring a hole into the back of her head. Behind them, she could hear the crowd shuffling closer, growing a little bit larger. A quick glance over her shoulder told her that it was unlikely they'd be able to make their escape that way. The faces that looked back at her were young and eager; they weren't going to make way for Leander and herself to get away from the potential fight.

"So you're just going to leave your boys here to fend for themselves?" taunted the blonde.

"You should teach your slut to respect you more," snorted the Surf Nazi that Leander had initially bumped into, leaning over David in what he assumed was an intimidating manner. He was a few inches taller than the light haired vampire and, even without seeing his face; Remy knew that David was smirking up at him.

"Okay, let's get a few things straight," said Remy, walking towards them, her voice even and bored. She squeezed Leander's hand reassuringly when she heard him whimper beside her, agitated by the tension radiating off of everyone else. She made sure to keep an eye on him, as long as he wasn't sprouting fur yet, they'd be fine. "Firstly, they're not my boys. I just met them last night. And even if I'd known them for longer, it's not like they're my property. I don't own them. Likewise, I'm not theirs either. I don't belong to them, or anyone else for that matter. Secondly, I don't owe any of you my respect. You want it; you earn it."

All eyes were on her now. She could just make out Paul grinning at her out of the corner of her eye. Marko was bouncing on his heels, eyes bright and darting from her to the Surf Nazis and back again. Dwayne had his arms crossed over his broad chest, cutting a daunting figure, but there was a lightness around his mouth that hinted at the possibility that he might just be amused at her antics. David had turned slightly to watch her approach, doing a convincing job of looking completely at ease and oozing a self-assured cockiness that made Remy want to punch him instead.

"And last but certainly not least, I really don't give a shit about whatever turf war you guys have going on here but I would rather not be caught in the middle of this dick measuring contest. It's a waste of my time and I've got better things to do. So kindly move out of our way."

By this time, she had made her way across the relatively short distance and was standing in front of the overly muscled Surf Nazi. The blonde and her friend moved to flank the man, perhaps intending to frighten her. She bared her teeth, lips pulled back in a snarl.

"And what if we don't want to move?" snapped the woman. "You guys don't own the boardwalk, despite what your boys think. We have every right to be here." She was warming up now, stepping forward so that she was practically leaning into Remy's personal space, hissing in her face. "You come around here, acting like you're fucking Santa Carla royalty, like everyone should worship the ground you walk on. Well we're sick and tired of that. You want us to move? You're going to have to make us."

Remy arched a brow, deliberately letting her lips quirk up in amusement, noting how it made the blonde's eyes flash in anger.

"Are you done?" she asked calmly.

Remy watched as the woman's face starting turning an alarming shade of red, idly wondering if it was possible for someone's head to explode from frustration. And then the blonde's eyes flickered down to Leander, a malicious spark warning Remy what she was planning to do. As the woman reached out for Leander, Remy's hand snapped out. In a move almost too fast for anyone to follow, Remy had grabbed the blonde's hand, twisting her arm behind her back in an unnatural angle that forced the taller woman onto her knees.

The reaction to this was explosive and immediate. The burly Surf Nazi attempted to launch himself at Remy but was intercepted by David. He ducked a blow aimed at his head and a well-placed shoulder to the larger man's solar plexus had him breathlessly staggering backwards. The rest of his gang surged forwards but the boys were quicker. For once Dwayne actually looked excited, as he floored a Surf Nazi with a punch to the jaw. It hadn't looked like he held back either. Marko dodged around his prey – and it certainly seemed like he was toying with prey more than it being an even fight – laughing as the other male swore at him every time he danced out of reach. And then he finally seemed to grow bored, ducking under the Surf Nazi's arm to kick his knees out from under him. Paul was surprisingly vicious. When he was done, his opponent had a broken nose, was clutching his side as if he had a few fractured ribs, and was spitting out blood and at least one tooth. The crowd around them gasped and cheered.

Throughout all this, Remy held the blonde's arm behind her, her expression cold. She didn't even look up at the commotion around her. The woman was breathing heavily in surprise and pain. Shock seemed to be keeping her from reacting immediately.

"Don't move," warned Remy. "If you do, you will dislocate your shoulder."

Of course she didn't listen. As the blonde pulled at her arm, trying to get out from Remy's grasp, she felt her shoulder come apart with a sickening pop. She screamed. The sound cut through the night and silenced the cheering crowd. Remy let go of her arm, looking down at the other female disdainfully.

"If you ever try to touch him again," said Remy, her voice dangerously even, "this will feel like nothing compared to what I'll do to you."

"Remy."

Leander's quiet voice snapped her out of her rage. He was shaking. His eyes were wide and slightly panicked. But his reaction was not due to fear. Remy reached for his hand and briskly marched them away from the scene of the fight. This time the crowd hurriedly parted for them.

They made it about ten feet, stumbling the entire way, before Remy scooped Leander up in her arms. It was easier this way since his shaking had gotten worse. She weaved her way through the people on the boardwalk, not quite running but not exactly walking either.

"Can you feel it?" Leander whispered in her ear, his face buried in her hair. "It's still there."

"I know, Lee," Remy murmured. They were still being watched. And Remy suspected she knew who was watching them.

"It's hunting us," Leander breathed. Remy could feel fur beginning to sprout along his neck. A sudden spasm told her that his bones were starting to shift as well.

"It's going to be okay, Lee," Remy reassured him. "You know I'd never let anything hurt you, right?"

Ducking into a darkened alley behind a video store, Remy tightened her hold on Leander as she teleported them away from the boardwalk. She didn't really think about their destination and had ended up bringing them back to her trailer. She sat Leander on her bed, kneeled in front of him and cupped his face in her hands.

"Look at me, Lee."

The eyes that stared back at her were a feline yellow and filled with pain. This was an uncontrolled change, brought on by the heavily charged atmosphere of the fight. Remy watched helplessly as Leander's back arched as his spine rearranged itself. The bones in his arms and legs cracked and shifted to form digitigrade limbs. She let go of him as the boy reared back, narrowly avoiding being torn to shreds by his newly formed claws. The entire process took two long, agonising minutes and when it was done, there was what looked to be a clouded leopard panting on her bed.

"Oh Lee," Remy sighed, worriedly.

The wild cat whimpered and laid itself down on her bed, looking utterly miserable. Remy ran a hand through her hair. Belteshazzar was going to be so pissed. It had been almost a year since Leander had undergone a complete change that was so out of control. If he found out about this, it was entirely possible that he'd pull the boy from tomorrow night's show. Not only that, but this had forced her to abandon the boys, which probably wouldn't exactly ingratiate her to them. Leander was making little mewling sounds that tore at her heart.

Pushing herself up off the floor, Remy walked the short distance to her kitchen and pulled down one of the bottles from her wine rack. Foregoing a glass, she popped the cork and brought the bottle to her lips, shuddering as the familiar iron taste of blood slid over her tongue and down her throat. She hadn't even realised how tense she was until that first sip. Tipping the bottle back, she chugged down almost a third of its contents before coming back up for air. She slammed the bottle down on the counter with a gasp and more force that she meant to, swearing as the glass shattered in her hand and cut her palm open. Blood, both hers and Belteshazzar's, spilt over the cheap laminate.

Back in the bedroom, Leander's head perked up, nose sniffing the air. His lips curled over his sharpened teeth, as his whimpers morphed into a hungry growl. Remy whipped around at the sudden noise, eyeing the werecat warily.

"Lee?" she ventured carefully. "You okay?"

The large cat turned around on her bed, eyes locked onto her bloody hand. Leander crouched back on his hind legs, tail twitching from side to side, as he prepared to pounce. Remy cradled her injured hand to her chest, using her good hand to point a disapproving finger at the werecat. She frowned sternly.

"No. Lee, down."

But he was obviously not listening. Remy threw up a shield as Leander launched himself off the bed. He crashed head first into the invisible wall, crumbling into a disorientated heap barely an arm's length away from her feet. He shook his head agitatedly as he pushed himself back onto his feet. Snarling at Remy, Leander prepared to attack again. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Don't make me do this."

She might as well have been speaking to a wall. He lashed out with his claws, growing more frustrated at not being able to get closer to her. Remy absently wondered when was the last time Leander had properly been fed. It was technically Fillin's responsibility to make sure that he and Leander hunted once a month to sate the animalistic blood lust that was inherent to their kind. Typical human food only kept the hunger at bay for so long.

When the werecat pounced again, Remy halted him in midair. Leander hissed as he twisted in the air, trying to struggle against her magic. Enough was enough.

"Sleep," she commanded, her voice filled with unnatural power.

Leander immediately fell limp and his eyes dropped closed. Sighing tiredly, Remy carefully transported him to her bed and laid him in it. She knew it'd be a couple of hours before the spell wore off and probably several more before he woke up, by which time he would hopefully be in a better frame of mind.

With Leander tucked into bed, Remy tended to her bloody hand. The cut wasn't that deep. But it was certainly going to make climbing her silks or performing on her lyra annoyingly painful tomorrow night. Her hand cleaned and bandaged, Remy set about clearing up the mess she'd made. When she was done, she pulled out a spare blanket from her tiny closet and curled up on her beat up, but comfortable, couch.

As she drifted off to sleep, the thought occurred to her that Belteshazzar was most likely going to ask her how tonight went and he was not going to be happy that things had very nearly gone to hell in a hand basket. She was almost certain that the predatory gaze both she and Leander had felt belonged to the same vampire he was looking for. Did that mean he knew that Belteshazzar was in town? Did he know they were looking for him? If he was the boys' leader, did that mean they knew why she'd agreed to hang out with them? Was she going to need to watch her back now? There were so many unanswered questions and it was very likely that Belteshazzar would throw a fit too, maybe even try to punish Leander and herself. They were in so much trouble. But at the moment she was far too tired to care.

The sun was painfully bright, even behind a pair of sunglasses. Remy squinted against the light as she strolled along the boardwalk, popping in and out of various stores every now and then. She had even rode the carousel and Giant Dipper – three times. Essentially, she had spent the entire day avoiding Belteshazzar.

Leander had still been asleep when she teleported out of her trailer. She hadn't wanted to take any chances that she might run into their ringmaster. Actually, she hadn't really wanted to run into anyone that day. She just didn't have the energy to deal with people and conversations. She had lay on the beach, nursing one of her bottles of blood infused wine, until the glare of the sun threatened to turn her into a cooked lobster. Only then had she taken to the boardwalk, wandering aimlessly and trying to kill time until the sun set and she had to return to the cirque to get ready for that evening's show. Now, as she started to slowly make her way back, the comic book store from last night caught her eye. There was still a patch of dried blood where Paul had beaten up that Surf Nazi. Obviously no one had bothered to clean up after them.

Remy loved comic books. Adelphos, a young Greek boy who had been the cirque's first contortionist, had introduced her to them almost fifty years ago. Like Leander, he had been like a little brother to her, following her around and sticking to her like glue. Her magic had fascinated him and his ability to bend his body in various shapes, as if he had no bones, astounded her. His untimely death at the age of fifteen was something she still blamed herself for. It had devastated her and was one of the reasons why she was so protective of Leander.

One of the first things she noticed upon walking into the store was the sleeping hippie couple behind the counter. A TV was blaring beside them yet they remained sound asleep. There were shelves upon shelves of comics, some of them even hanging over the central displays. It looked like they were in the middle of a stock intake. There were open boxes everywhere. Then she spotted the teenage boys. They had just walked out of a back room and were frowning at her. Remy returned their frown, propping her sunglasses on top of her head. Their eyes followed her as she made her way around the store. And then they actually started following her, as if daring her to shoplift a comic while they were watching.

"Is there a problem here?" Remy finally snapped. "I really don't appreciate being followed around as if I'm some sort of criminal. Is this how you treat all your customers?"

The one dressed like a Rambo wannabe crossed his arms and frowned harder. It almost made Remy smile. He was more amusing than anything else.

"You were with the Lost Boys last night," he said.

"Who?"

"The Lost Boys," said the other teen. "That's what people around here call them."

Remy leaned back against the display shelves and mirrored their crossed arms. She wondered if they were related. They didn't look that much alike, but their mannerisms were far too similar.

"And what if I was?" she asked. "Is that a problem?"

"Depends," said Rambo. "Did you drink anything they gave you?"

"No," Remy answered truthfully.

"Did you make out with any of them?" asked his brother – cousin? – weirdly close best friend? "Exchange bodily fluids? Accidentally bite each other maybe?"

"Not that it's any of your business if I did, but no."

The teens shared a look, silently communicating with each other.

"You're pretty strong, huh?" asked the darker haired boy, as the other teen crossed over to the counter behind which the hippies were sleeping. "The way you broke that woman's arm last night."

"I didn't break her arm," Remy corrected, as she watched Rambo pour out a glass of water from a canteen. "She dislocated it. I warned her what would happen if she tried to move."

Rambo brought back the glass of water and offered it to her.

"Here. It's pretty hot out there."

Remy arched a mocking brow.

"If I didn't accept a drink from the 'Lost Boys', not that they offered me anything, I'm certainly not going to accept one from you two. Haven't you heard of stranger danger?"

The teens shared another look. Rambo shrugged.

"Was just trying to be nice."

"Nice would be not interrogating me," Remy retorted. She noticed how Rambo looked at a loss as to what to do with the glass of water now that she'd refused it. This time she allowed herself a small smile. "I'm almost tempted to just leave and not get anything."

"You read comics?" he asked doubtfully.

Remy rolled her eyes and pushed herself off the display shelf, walking past them to the shelves near the counter. The teens followed her, Rambo quickly putting the glass down on the counter top.

"No. I just wandered in here by accident," she replied, voice dripping in sarcasm as she started browsing through the comics. She could practically feel their eyes on her back.

"So what kind of comics do you like?"

Remy shrugged.

"Don't really have a favourite. But anything with blood and gore in it is always fun."

The smile she threw over her shoulder at them was playful and slightly disturbing. They unconsciously took a step back and silently looked at each other again. The dark haired teen picked out a comic from one of the shelves and tapped her on the shoulder with it, holding it out for her to take.

"Try this one then."

Remy noted the title with a slight quirk of her lips – Vampires Everywhere! The cover art was cheesy but not completely awful. She accepted the comic and idly flipped through it.

"Looks interesting," she said.

They had to know. Not about her or Belteshazzar, but about the Lost Boys. It would explain the questions; their attempt to have her drink what she was certain was holy water; and giving her this particular comic. The Lost Boys – it was a fitting name for David and his friends.

"If you like that, you might like this one too," said Rambo, handing her a comic entitled Destroy All Vampires.

Remy laughed.

"I'll take both."

Five minutes later, Remy walked out of the store with both comics, a phone number scrawled on the back of one of them, and two names: Edgar and Alan Frog. She toyed with the idea of informing Belteshazzar about the brothers. They seemed like a couple of would-be vampire hunters and it would only be in their best interests to keep an eye on them. Even amateur vampire hunters could end up being dangerous.

She found a deserted alleyway from which to teleport back to the cirque. Her trailer was empty and there was an unwashed bowl in her sink when she got back, so she knew Leander had helped himself to some of her cereal when he'd woken up. Trading her sundress for her white satin shift and a pair of safety shorts, she unwrapped her bandaged hand to check how her cut was healing. The amount of blood she'd consumed throughout the day had helped with speeding up the healing process. All that remained of her wound was a pale, reddish scar, though the surrounding flesh still felt tender when she poked at it. Dressed in her costume, Remy snatched up a clean pair of shorts and a flannel shirt to change into after the show and teleported directly backstage.

"So how did last night go?"

Remy whipped around, dread settling like a heavy weight in her belly. Belteshazzar was leaning against her dressing table, the very picture of casual elegance. He had yet to change into his costume and his carelessly wind swept salt and pepper hair just added to his allure. Remy glared at him.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"You've been avoiding me," he said, ignoring her accusation for one of his own.

"No, I haven't," she lied.

He waved away her protest.

"Don't bother. Leander told me all about what happened last night."

Her eyes narrowed into slits.

"Did you make him?"

Belteshazzar huffed, clearly offended.

"Really? What do you take me for?"

"A manipulative bastard," Remy replied without hesitation.

Belteshazzar pushed himself off her dressing table, slinking towards her. Instead of reaching out to touch her like Remy had assumed he would, he gently removed her spare clothes from her arms and proceeded to hang them up for her.

"Well this bastard doesn't hurt defenceless little children, my dear." He shook out her flannel shirt, frowning at the creases in the material. "Were you afraid I'd be mad at you?"

"I'm not afraid of you."

"Of course not," said Belteshazzar, smiling indulgently. "So our quarry has noticed your presence. It doesn't mean we've lost the upper hand. Did he see you teleport Leander away from the boardwalk?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

Belteshazzar gave the collar of her shirt a final tug, attempting to straighten it out, and hung it onto the clothes rack. He turned to look at her, his gaze appraising. Remy wrapped her arms around herself.

"When you see his boys tonight, try to find out."

But Remy did not see them that night. Nor did she see them the night after. In fact, it would be several nights before Remy saw the Lost Boys again.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Started a new job and got sick again, except this time it was this long lingering thing that still hasn't quite gone away and came with a couple of scares. And being sick came with writer's block and barely enough energy to do anything. Hopefully this longer chapter makes up for it.

Remy and Leander were initially going to follow our boys back to the Lost Cave. But the darn Surf Nazis wouldn't back down, so there was a change of plans. It probably would've been too soon for that to happen anyways, especially with what I was thinking of doing once they got to the cave.

The following explanation about the aerial hoop or lyra is taken from Vertical Wise:

When exactly Aerial Hoop as a means of circus performances first made their appearance is rather vague. It is known, however, that since the late 1700s, metal hoops were used in house yards as a way of recreation for children.

Reports on Aerial Hoop have been made in the middle of the '00s when they were used in the Varekai performance of Cirque du Soleil.

The first use of the hoop ever recorded is in an 1893 advertisement in New York Clipper where a performer called "Caedo" used this equipment. It was probably one of the first hoops made according to Edward Van Wyck's statement in one of his letters in 1903.

I was also re-reading the script for the movie and I noticed that no one ever directly calls the boys 'the Lost Boys'. But I'm going to assume that people do when they're gossiping about them. Because you know people are going to gossip about our boys.

Also, for all of you wonderful, lovely people who enjoy reading The Lost Boys fanfics (of course you do, otherwise you wouldn't be here), please do go and check out Lyanna L's "If I Had A Heart" and leave her a review. It's a brilliant David/OC centric story and I'm hoping if more of us pester, I mean, write in to her, she might update quicker. Yup, totally have an ulterior motive here. That's how desperate I am for another chapter from her. (I'm also beyond desperate for updates on a Tom Riddle/OC story, a Daryl Nixon/OC story, and a couple of Bucky Barnes/OC stories. If you guys want to check them out, and also pester their authors with reviews, let me know and I'll tell you what those stories are)

As usual, I love hearing back from you guys. Let me know what you might like to see more of, less of, what needs improvement, etc. I'll also try to be better about replying to everyone because I realised I've been totally slack with that the last two chapters. Again, sorry.

As always,

Love,

Scribbles