Michael took a pull from his cigarette as he leaned against the porch railing, eyeing Sam silently. After they'd packed up Sam's trunk with a cooler full of grandpa's latest 'batch' to take back to Mike's place, he hadn't said much of anything. Just watched him. It was unnerving. Nothing new about that, but there was another level to it now. As if Mike was prepared to jump him at any second if he did something stupid.
"Stop staring at me like that." He grumbled.
"Like what?" Michael let out a breath of smoke, much like a sleeping dragon would. Slowly. Languidly.
"Like you're going to attack me." He paused briefly, "What if...what if we find Alan and kill him and I don't go back to normal?" He said softly.
He flicked the ashes from the end of his cigarette, finally breaking eye contact as he glanced out into the darkness in the front yard, frowning, "what makes you think you won't?"
"Because you didn't."
"Star and Laddie did," Michael pointed out, "if you didn't drink as much blood as I did, you'll be fine." That was the excuse he always gave. He'd simply had too much, as if that somehow explained everything away. It was a pretty sorry excuse, but they didn't have any other answer for it. "You can't stay here tonight."
"How much did you drink?" He was going to ignore the fact his brother was trying to kick him out.
"I don't know," Michael shrugged, tucking the cigarette between his lips and glancing at Sam out of the corner of his eyes, "half a wine bottle...maybe more. I was pretty high…it's been eight years, Sam. Give me a break. You have any idea how much you drank?"
He shook his head, "Alan and I...we kind of drank a lot in celebration, I passed out, I thought Alan did too."
He snorted, "sounds like you got date raped. So you got drunk, then you woke up and..." he blew out another puff of smoke, glancing over at the door as if he expected mom to show up at any second to overhear them, "he'd force-fed you some of his blood? How'd he turn without you knowing, first? I'm missing something here."
Sam shrugged, "I dunno. Why can't I stay here tonight?" He crossed his arms over his chest, he was good at deflecting at least.
Michael sighed, "Sam...do you remember when I almost ate you, then Nanook took a chunk out of my hand? You were singing in the bathtub like you'd lost your balls?"
"I was not!" He glared, "What's your point?"
"Nanook is too old to save mom and grandpa if you snap. I've been dealing with this longer, and I've got to tell you...that's not the only time I nearly lost it. Do you want to take that kind of risk? If you stay at my place, you've got no one to eat. I'm pretty sure I can beat your ass if something happens, and that way I can keep an eye on you until we find Alan." He stubbed out his cigarette, glancing back out toward the yard again with a sudden snap of his head, "we're gonna have to leave soon...want to make sure you get a good parking space." There was something off about him, now. In a few short seconds, Mike seemed to have become more guarded. Like there was something out there…
"Mike? What's wrong?"
"Let's get going. I have to get to work in the morning, and I want to get a head start before dawn hits," Michael mumbled, skipping off of the porch, eyes darting about him. "Get in your car. Now."
He felt like he was being watched, like there was...something, out there. Whatever it was Michael was off his rocker. Sam could only assume he'd lost his mind. He walked to his car, glancing at his brother every now and then, watching how he tensed, before climbing in. Yeah, being a half-vampire seemed to be getting to his brother.
Michael hopped onto his bike, much nicer than the one Sam had trashed back in high school, and one of the few things he seemed to spend much money on these days. He tore off into the night, scattering bits of rock and grass in his wake.
David snuffed out his cigarette, eyes narrowed at the scene on the porch. So, Michael's little brother was half, well, didn't that just make things more difficult. His lip pulled back in a snarl, there was nothing more he wanted to do than rip the little shit's throat out for being in their territory. He was surprised Michael hadn't come at least a little close to snapping.
He glanced back at Dwayne, "We've got a little problem, let's hope it doesn't bring a bigger one to our doorstep."
Dwayne nodded silently, leaning forward on his bike and keeping his eyes on the pair as Michael seemed to grow more alert.
Paul clicked his tongue against his fangs, "should've finished this last year. The year before that...before that, even. Davey, I'm getting bored with this shit," he complained, letting his head fall forward to dramatically land against one of his bike handles. He flinched, sitting back up and rubbing at his forehead.
Marko grinned, nudging Paul's shoulder and putting a finger to his lips to quiet him, just as Michael and Sam were climbing off of the porch. David watched them go, he wanted to do something, he just wasn't sure what. Michael was getting close to being ready, no matter how much he might deny it, but he wasn't there yet. Lucy and the old man really couldn't have too much time left. It would just take one of them, and he'd drop his defenses. He'd let go. Then he would be his.
"Stars in your eyes?" Paul snarked, blowing a tuft of hair out of his face. They were gradually changing with the times, but the rocker had a hard time parting with his hair. It would take a mid-morning scissor session to convince him.
Dwayne rolled his eyes, watching the Emerson brothers drive off. Not that they didn't know where Mikey lived. They always knew where he was, on some level.
"And how would you suggest we finish this? Hmm?" David asked, glancing at Paul.
"Wait until he's got a night shift," Marko butted in, just before Paul could make a lewd comment, "slash up that girly he works with...all that blood? He'd snap like a fucking twig." Marko paused, "I would anyway...she's got great tits…" He held up his hands, imitating the sort of gesture Paul would probably have done if he could get a word in edgewise.
David rolled his eyes, "And how would he feel after the fact?"
"Pissed," Dwayne smirked. "Royally."
"It ultimately has to be totally on him when he finally snaps, not us. He has to be the one to let go, and he will, no matter how hard he struggles, no matter how long he fights, in the end, he's ours. We could make him snap but I'm not going to deal with a resentful fledgling."
Dwayne gave David a thoughtful look, smirking as he glanced back towards the driveway. He was usually quiet, but not this quiet.
Marko poked him in the shoulder, "What're you thinkin' 'bout?"
He shook his head, "I can't believe you haven't figure it out yet, David."
David scowled, "What?"
Dwayne nodded in the direction the pair had left, "use this. Nudge his brother a little...get him worked up. Make Michael come looking for us. That's all there is to it."
The others exchanged dark, gleeful looks, eyeing David hopefully. It was all up to him. Max wasn't around anymore, after all. David was the head vampire now. He had been for quite some time.
"So...that's what happened, huh?" Edgar sat at his tiny kitchen table, shaking his head sadly. "Can't believe he cracked like that. Left you out there in the middle of nowhere with a dead body…" He wrinkled his nose. The thought was enough to put him off his dinner. "I really thought Sam was stronger. Like us."
"He always has been, strong, dealing with his brother…" Now that he thought about it, what if Sam went to Michael? He shook his head, no way, "How do we wanna go about this?"
"One more time, just so we're clear," Edgar tapped the tabletop with his index finger, clearing his throat, "so you both got hammered, had an argument, went to sleep...and you were camping right around where you took out that nest...then in the morning, you woke up...had blood in your mouth...were sleeping right by a dead body...and Sam was gone. No car. No nothing...is that it?"
"Yeah, that's right." He scowled, "Why?"
"That's a real dick move," Edgar grunted. "Let me just get some ointment for my flesh-eating bacteria, and we'll get going," apparently his 'disease' had gotten even worse while they were gone.
He rolled his eyes, "Ed, your skin isn't falling off." How long was he going to have to deal with this? "Honestly, let's plan, get your mind off it."
"If he's teaming up with the ape, I'm pretty sure the other one'll probably snap too. All that vampire pressure will be too much for him…" Ed replied, ignoring Alan's irritated remark, "gotta pack up the car with extra stakes...couple of bibles, too. I've got a quart of holy water in the sink, could make some balloons…" he started listing off an arsenal of ideas, none of which he'd actually given to Alan and Sam before they'd gone on their hunting trip.
Of course Edgar would never help them out when he was on one of his health binges. He supposed he needed to be half turned more often if it got his brother off his ass and out of the trailer.
"Think I still got his apartment address somewhere in my desk…" Edgar went on, pacing the trailer as he snatched up a few discarded shirts on the ground to take on their trip to Santa Carla, which was barely twenty miles away. "Sneak up on them in the middle of the day...gonna have to make sure you stay awake...maybe use my old taser, just in case…"
Sam glared at his brother's back. The brunette was standing outside on his porch, smoking yet another cigarette. What had gotten him so worked up? The entire ride over here he caught him glancing over his shoulder. He'd wait until he finished his smoke before bringing it up. Mike tended to get pissy really easily, Sam was having the same problem lately if he was being honest.
The door slid open, and Michael was stepping inside, glancing over at Sam, "you want to hang out here in the morning or do you want to go to the garage with me?" He rasped, scratching at his chin. He looked like he was calming down a little, but that didn't stop him from locking the door to his porch and reaching over to snag a chair and push it up against the handle.
"I'll go with you but Mike, what's wrong? What was up with leaving without saying bye to mom?"
Michael's shoulders slumped as he crossed over to his living room couch and slowly sat down beside his brother, "she was asleep. Didn't want to bug her…" He looked at Sam, and opened his mouth, then shut it again, shaking his head and glancing back towards the door. Sometimes pulling anything out of Mike was like yanking teeth.
"Dude, don't lie to me, come on, tell me the truth." He crossed his arms over his chest, "I need to know."
His brother looked at him again, and threw his head back with a groan, "you...I wouldn't be telling you this shit right now, but since you've pretty much royally fucked your life up, I guess it's time to spill...just...keep this between us, okay?"
"Yeah, sure, I get it, just tell me."
Michael took in a deep breath and let it out, "you remember when I used to blast the radio all night? After the fight? When Star and Laddie left?"
He nodded, urging him to continue, knowing better than to interrupt.
"It's because I wasn't alone," he stated flatly. "I just didn't want you to hear."
"What do you mean?" He didn't get it, how could he not have been alone? "Who was there?"
"Are you fucking serious?" Michael turned to level him with a glare, "Sam. I know you killed a few brain cells hanging around those Frogs, pretty much throwing yourself into trouble, which is why you're like this...by the way...but you can't be dumb enough not to follow what I'm getting at right now."
"They're dead! How could they have been there? Why'd you let them in your room?"
He sighed, "okay, just...listen. Don't ask me any questions until I'm done talking, because I'm only going to tell you this once.."
Late Summer, 1987...
A minute after grandpa closed the fridge, an unease settled over the household, Star and Laddie embraced each other again. Two minutes after that, Michael realized something still didn't feel right. About an hour after that, grandpa knew there was still a problem. Especially when they walked by the mirror. Even though Sam was already desperate to rush back to where the disaster scene still lay, untouched, grandpa had very firmly insisted that he make sure Lucy took the Frog brothers home first. With half of the house out of commission now, they didn't have any room for extra guests.
It was an excuse, of course. An excuse so they could have a little chat in the workshop, away from prying eyes and ears. Star was too shocked to do anything but go along with Lucy and the others. She decided right then and there that she'd leave in a few days, the minute she was able to get Laddie's parents on the phone. Didn't even bother meeting Michael's eyes. It stung. Like he was the monster, not David. Not Max. Him. Michael had never felt so alone.
"You still not feelin' right?" Grandpa asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Michael remained silent as he gently closed the door, giving a quick shake of his head, focusing intently on a very fascinating speck of dirt on the ground.
"Michael, talk to me, you should be back to normal. Why aren't you?"
He shrugged, "I pushed Max in the way...I sort of staked another one of them…" he licked his lip nervously, glancing back up at the old man, "you seem to know a lot about this shit, grandpa. You think those counted as a first kill?" Was he...had he completely turned? Oh god...
He shook his head, "Wouldn't be a first kill." He paused, "Sort of staked? Where is he?"
Michael nodded his head in the direction he knew David's body was lying, afraid to even look at it. He didn't want to ever see the blonde again, even in death, if he could help it.
"Let's go take a look." He expected the brunette to follow as he headed toward where he motioned. He wasn't wrong. Michael trailed after him, dragging his feet and drawing his shoulders up in preparation to lock eyes on his handywork for hopefully the last time...but when they got there… "No one here, you sure you got it in the heart?"
"I…" Michael faltered, looking about, glaring at the blood-painted horns, willing David to magically appear as he drew closer. He raised a shaking hand to touch it, to remind his sleep-deprived mind that this was not in fact a trick of the light...and all his fingers touched was nothing but slightly dampened horns. Nothing else. "Couldn't have missed…" he shook his head, looking back up at his grandfather with a wild look in his eye, "he had to have a dozen sticking out of him! I couldn't have missed!" Michael was beginning to panic.
He grabbed his grandson by the shoulders, "There's no other explanation, none of them pierced the heart. Must have been his blood, not Max's that you drank."
Michael glanced back towards the door nervously, "there's others...Sam nailed one of them back at their...home...two more dead, too...I saw one of them. David's going to kill me!"
"Easy, we'll go check." He paused, "Might not want to kill you. We'll go check the others, see what happened." He didn't mention that if David wanted to kill him he'd probably draw it out to make him suffer.
The kitchen was a mess. The bathroom totaled. The stereo would have to have a glorious funeral...but there was no scrap of fabric, no shard of bone, nothing to indicate they'd ever been there beyond the collateral damage to the house. For all they knew, it could have just been the result a couple of burst pipes and poor decisions. He could probably file an insurance claim and get the place fixed without a problem. Still wouldn't fix Michael, though…
"I don't understand," Michael whispered, running a hand over the ground where he knew damned well Dwayne's twitching, charred arm should still be. Right where they'd left it. "I don't understand…" he repeated under his breath, closing his eyes and biting back the taste of bile in his throat. This was all just one sick, endless nightmare...and he was getting hungrier by the second, too...
"We'll have to be ready, they're gonna come back." He narrowed his eyes, "Gonna have to figure out something for you to eat too before you decide one of us looks good."
Those words echoed in Michael's head over and over for the rest of the night, until Sam got home and they had to make up some lie about burying the bodies in the back. Until he calmly explained to his sobbing mother the next morning when she couldn't wake him up after twelve that his schedule was pretty much staying the same, and even if he'd planned to go back to school in the first place, it definitely wasn't an option anymore. Those words echoed in his head again and again when Star took Laddie to the bus station, promising she'd call him every week until he fixed himself. She'd 'wait' for him...safely across state lines, of course. They echoed and echoed and echoed until he thought he'd go crazy. Then, one night, a week after Star left, while Michael was holding his nose and downing a pint of rabbit's blood in his bedroom, so Lucy wouldn't have to see him do it while she served up spaghetti bolognese in the kitchen...the echoing stopped. Instead, it was replaced by a scratching sound at his bedroom window.
"Michael…" His name seemed to rattle around in his head, "Open the window, NOW."
Calmly setting the glass aside, Michael stood up from the fold-out couch they'd had to drag into his room to replace the sadly destroyed remnants of his bed. He steeled himself as he tucked his hands into his jeans pockets and grasped at slender, sharp sticks...edging towards his bedroom radio to flip it on as loud as it could get. The signal for grandpa to keep an eye on the family. Then, without batting an eye, he approached his window and stared out through the glass into two very angry yellow eyes. David glared at him, impatience and anger vying for dominance on his face.
Keeping one hand firmly tucked into his pocket, Michael reached forward and flipped open the lock on the window. He wasn't sure why. He just felt...compelled.
David was the first one in, yellow eyes remaining locked with Michael's, "That little stunt you pulled, completely uncalled for." The others followed, all of them, even the one Sam had sworn they staked back at the hotel, "We could have talked it through, had a nice chat about all of it, but then your little brother and his friends had to go and stab Marko, he's still pissed about it, by the way." Marko nodded, lifting his hands and giving a small little snarl, then grinning when Michael took one quick step back in fear.
He should, pull out the thin stake he was grasping in his pocket. Should bite out some sort of dark retort, take one of them out at the risk of knowingly signing his own death warrant...but he didn't want to. Not really. That, and he was legitimately surprised they weren't already attacking him. "...Wha...what?" Michael blinked several times, looking about at the others, thoroughly and hopelessly confused.
"Talk, like we're doing now. Damn Michael, you can be dense sometimes." They all laughed, "What's gonna happen now, is we're gonna have a nice little chat about the way the world works for you now. See, you're my halfling, my blood is in your veins, just like I told you before, and that isn't changing." He sat down on the bed, reclining back slightly, "You do have some options though. We can spend the next few nights talking, hash out the details, and life can go on for awhile until you snap and feed or, you can fight but Michael, if you fight, we're gonna take out your family, make you watch, and then you're gonna feed. Hell, I might even make you feed on one of them. So, what do you have to say?"
Michael released the stake in his pocket and pulled his hand out with an exasperated sigh. He knew the albino bastard wasn't lying. There really wasn't much of a reason to. Not to mention, Michael wasn't exactly in any position right now to make demands. Telling them to all fuck off and die again would only make the second option David had just given him that much more likely to come to pass. His glance slid across the room towards his bedroom door, and for a split second he wondered if he could get away. The thought, while appealing, was a stupid one. No. That wasn't an option. He took a deep breath, then he spoke.
"You're a dick."
He raised one elegantly curved eyebrow, "Really? Why don't you tell me what you want to talk about."
"If it's your blood, why did Star go back to normal? Why did Laddie? And how are you all still alive?" Michael pulled the chair out from beside his desk and sat down, not offering any courtesy to the remainder of the boys. They were, after all, the epitome of uninvited guests.
"Star and Laddie were Max's creations. As for the whole still being alive thing, well, remember the maggots, Michael?" He chuckled softly, "Yeah, you do." Michael's lack of hospitality didn't seem to bother the others much, they found places to lounge, looking right at home, totally at ease with each other and Michael, "I'm good at surviving, always have been. It's gonna take a lot more than a lucky shot to get rid of me. I'm not stupid." It was obvious he was talking about Max with regards to level of intelligence, "What else do you want to know?"
He could still do it. He could pull that little stake out of his pocket right now. Maybe grandpa was ready for them downstairs, just waiting...but...no. There was no way the old man could take them all on. For one, driving through the side of the house was probably not going to work a second time. Michael honestly couldn't believe he was having this conversation. He wasn't sure if he'd even begin to be able to wrap his head around how absolutely ridiculous this whole situation was. "Can't you take it back?" He pressed on, "I'm not a killer. I don't want to be one. If you honestly think I'm ever going to willingly harm another person, or...feed..." the word made him want to shiver, as if just saying it was reminding him how disgusting his primarily liquid diet for the last week had been, "...you're going to be waiting for a very long time."
"Then we'll wait. It's not something that I can take back, even if I wanted to, which I don't. Eventually you'll feel differently about the whole thing but I get it, for now, you can sit here, drink Bambi, and wax poetic about humanity, I'm sure Dwayne would love to listen to whatever poetry you come up with. Besides, I'm a patient man, eventually you'll get tired of eating animals or you just won't care anymore and the next bimbo you see on the boardwalk will just look too good to deny yourself any longer. We'll be waiting for you. Until then, we're more than happy to hang out, chat, go for a ride, whatever."
The rest of the night was surprisingly chill, save for a few calculating thoughts Michael had about getting rid of the boys. It was a lot like the night he'd jumped off the bridge, at least before the fated semi-final step to his 'initiation'. As much as he struggled to drum up his anger and resentment, his noble heroism he'd somehow managed to find the minute before he thought he'd killed David, it was a tenuous feeling. Eventually, they left, and it was as if they'd never been there. Except...he felt a lot calmer than he had in over a week. Relaxed. Like he'd been sedated, just being around them.
All of that, of course, didn't stop Michael from trying to flee Santa Carla the next day, telling himself the distance might keep his family a bit safer. Too bad he slept in. It was nearly sunset by the time he was about ten miles from the city limits.
"Go ahead and cross that line, Michael. Bet you're gonna be mighty hungry in a few minutes, enjoy the drifter on the side of the road." David's warning rang through his mind, it was almost as if he was right there on his bike with him. He nearly wrecked his bike with the sense of surprise and fear crawling its way from his belly, and the roaring of his hunger come to life once more. Worse than it had ever been…
Maybe if he sped up. Got somewhere with less people...he tried to ignore David's voice in his mind, but there really wasn't any ignoring that churning pain. That need. He was so very hungry, the further away he got, the worse it became. Until it was almost all he could think about.
"Why don't you turn around and come back? It's getting hard for me to keep you from jumping the next person you see."
Gradually, he pulled to a stop, taking deep panting breaths as he tried to steady his hands, turning back to look down the road the way he had come, and then up at the last few rays of the dying sun, "you're...holding it back?" He thought, hesitantly, not sure if this conversation was a two-way street or not, but needing to force himself to focus on it so he didn't lose his mind.
"The closer you are to me, to the pack, the easier it is to help take a little bit of that hunger." David almost sounded a little strained, "Why don't you come back and we can talk about it? Bet you're full of questions now."
Michael mentally cursed David to a thousand unpleasant things, and the mental images were very vivid as he began to drive back. But he was right...some of the hunger seemed to be abating a bit more. He'd wait until it was at least far enough at the back of his mind that there was no immediate danger to any passersby, and then he'd take a swig from his flask he kept tucked under his jacket. Better than nothing, he decided. Better than killing.
After about a month of their nightly visits, he could honestly say he had stopped really giving a damn about what he was becoming, or what he'd become. Stopped caring about a lot of things, except maybe finding a job, which he'd somehow managed to do. During the day, when he forced himself to climb out of bed and at least somewhat pretend to resemble a member of the human race, meeting Lucy's worried looks began to wear on him. Or listening to Sam's ideas and plans on figuring out how to fix him, ideas as stupid as finding a German doctor or some shit, because apparently all German doctors know how to deal with vampires...if you listen to any of the bullshit those Frog brothers liked to spout off.
Then it happened. On his first day of work, he realized every single person who met his gaze became immediately uneasy, or rushed to get their business done as quickly as possible just to get away from him. He realized he actually liked listening to the sounds of their racing hearts, imagined how fun it would be to pursue them...to just give in and kill…
He couldn't come up with any reason not to, except for his family. It sobered him up enough to worry that soon enough, he might not even care about their lives anymore. That was the day Michael decided to move out. It was also the last time he ever saw the boys up close, and spoke with them. Or at least, David. He was the only one to show up that night when Michael was packing up his room.
David slipped through the window, crossing his arms over his chest and watching him, "Gonna be the last visit for awhile." He said conversationally, "Time to lay low for a bit, disappear, people aren't as much fun anymore."
Michael nearly dropped his weights in the process of moving them, turning to look at David in stunned silence.
"If you want to be around us, hangout, it's gonna be when you decide to come live with us and accept what you are." The look on his face was knowing, he knew Michael didn't want to be away from them. There was the bare minimum of anything human left in his system, and the idea of being away from...well...pack...it was more than a little unnerving.
"How long are you laying low?" He asked quietly, kneeling down to set his weights on the ground beside a small pile of boxes.
He shrugged, "Gotta change with the times. Don't get me wrong, we'll still be around, just not out in the open. The hotel is still home, we'll be there, waiting, but we generally disappear for a few years, ten or so? It depends on how fast people are to forget. Not many people have long memories."
Definitely not the dead ones, for sure, Michael thought privately, running a hand through his hair as he watched David leave, and absolutely nothing else happened after that.
"They were out there? That why you freaked out? What were they going to do?" Sam demanded, the instant Michael had stopped talking. Sam's eyes were wide with newfound terror; this, piled on top of the anxiety and fear of what he was becoming...he was pretty sure he'd never touch a shit-sucking vampire again if he got out of this alive.
"Probably eat you. Stake you. Maybe both." Michael was painfully blunt.
"But why? They said they wouldn't touch us. They've kept that promise, why would they break it now?"
"I think…" Michael tapped his foot on the carpet and leaned forward, clasping his hands over his knees, "I got a feeling when we were back at the house. Before they showed up. For a second, I kinda wanted to rip your throat out, too...maybe it's because you're different. Not one of them...a rival? Intruder? Not sure. Either way, the sooner we get you fixed, the better." He paused, tensing his shoulders, "I'm not strong enough to protect you, Sam. If Alan shows up here before we find him, you're toast. Both of you."
He was itching to smoke another cigarette, but now that Sam was comfortably sleeping in the living room couch, Michael was forced to let it rest for now. He had a few hours to sleep, then he'd probably go into work a little after mid-day, once he was physically capable of actually waking. There was of course, one final part of the story he'd left out. No way in hell he'd tell Sam about that fucking kiss David pretty much decided to force on him as a parting gift. He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out his half-smoked pack with a grumble, sneaking towards the door. One cigarette, just one more. Then he could maybe stop thinking about all those old memories he drudged up. Hell, maybe he could force himself to pretend he hadn't sort of liked thinking about that stupid kiss. David was such an asshole. Even when he wasn't around.
"DUDE! SICK! STOP! ALAN, CONTROL YOURSELF!" Edgar shouted, standing beside the car in the middle of the road, where his brother had wildly forced them to stop so he could pursue a possum on the side of the road...and...well…
"Shut up asshole! I'm hungry!" He grumbled, tossing the leftover possum into the bushes before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "Would you rather I eat you?"
Edgar panicked, whimpering, rubbing his neck brace and reaching into the car to grab at the rosary/air freshener dangling over the dash, "a burger...you could've gotten a burger, Alan!"
"I'm not gonna do anything asshole! Let's just get in the car and go, alright?" He gave him a wide berth as he moved past him to the car. Unfortunately, before he could tear open the door and pretend he was beating his brother over the head with it, a slow, soft clapping interrupted their little tête-à-tête.
"Really, your stupidity is astounding." The gentleman, because that's the only word to describe him, that stood before them was in his 40's, "Where are you young men heading, in the middle of the night…" he paused, "with one of you eating possums on the side of the road." He chuckled, "It's so degrading."
Ed narrowed his eyes at the man, looking about. There was no other car. Very few buildings around. Where had the guy come from? He lifted a hand, "look, sir...what you just saw...didn't happen. It's very dangerous to be around my brother right now. He's just escaped from the hospital, and he isn't himself today. Forgot the happy pills. Don't worry about it...you just...you should go, before he starts cracking up," he made a shooing gesture, hoping the guy would get the hint.
Alan glared at his brother silently, before glancing back at the guy and slowly pulling the car door open a little wider.
He shook his head, "Alan, yes? Wasn't that the name your little friend called you?" He questioned.
"Ed, get in the car. Get in the car. GETINTHECARGETINTHECAR!" Alan panicked, slapping the hood of the car as he dove into his seat and buckled himself in, "GET IN, GET IN, GET IN!" He shouted, slamming the door and locking it. Ed stood, staring at the man, caught in his gaze and swaying slightly on his feet. "GOD DAMN IT, ED!" Alan leaned over and slapped his hand on the car horn several times.
He chuckled softly, "Alan, why don't you come out and we can have a little talk."
Alan unbuckled his seatbelt angrily, climbing over into Edgar's set and reaching out through the opened driver's door, shaking his head to ignore the man's...the vampire's...clearly the surviving head vampire's words from his mind, grabbing at his brother's hand to try and yank him into the car. It was like pulling on a dead weight. He wouldn't budge...and now he had a dumbass goofy smile on his face, too.
"I'll let him go if you come out and talk." He stated calmly.
Biting his bottom lip, Alan stared out through the rear window, terrified for his life. But more so for his brother's. A selfish part of him almost wanted to drive off and leave Ed to his problem, but the much larger portion who actually did care about his brother made him climb out of the car and reluctantly face the monster in front of them. "Go to hell," he bit out between his teeth, digging under his shirt to grab at a small water-gun packed with holy water.
"Was that so hard? You are of my blood, I could force you, but I'm curious how this little scenario is going to play out. I'm still unsure why it is that you didn't question the fact that Sam appeared to have turned you. Did it even cross your mind that things didn't exactly happen the way they appeared to?"
He squeezed the water-gun tightly, pulling it out and aiming it at the vampire, "so Sam's half? Or did you kill him? YOU KILLED SAM?!"
He rolled his eyes, "Sam is half, like you."
Alan looked over at his brother, who he swore had never looked as dumb or head over heels for someone since high school when one of the cheerleaders ripped her pants and went commando that day. "So...there's still time to kill you, then…" Alan replied, drawing his upper lip back in a snarl as he pulled the trigger...unfortunately, he was just a little too far away for the water to hit its target. Shit!
"You can't attack me, Alan." He chuckled softly, "You can try, however the blood won't allow it."
"What do you want from us?!" Alan demanded, shoving his brother behind him and standing in front of Ed protectively. Despite their differences, he wasn't going to let this shit-sucker get another victim. No way in hell.
"I want to watch the two of you snap, watch as you feed and become mine. Pretty simple." He stated calmly. He paused. "But first, I think I'd like to spend a few days relaxing. I'm sure that friend of yours will still be ready for us when I'm done with you both."