It was about half past about two in the afternoon when Sam's dreams of blood and death were interrupted by a migraine-inducing alarm. He didn't want to be up right now, his body was protesting the fact that there was a klaxon blaring in the apartment. A low groan escaped his lips as he rolled off the couch, hitting the floor with a solid thump.

"Mike! What the hell man?!" He groaned, rubbing his eyes, "Make it stop!"

His older jerk of a brother wasn't around to taunt him for sleeping later. In fact, he didn't even seem to be thumping about in the damn place getting dressed. Aside from that fucking alarm, there was nothing to indicate he was even there. Sam grumbled, stumbling to his feet and shoving himself against the bedroom door, pushing it open. He had to make it stop, one way or another.

He'd been to Mike's place before, but he'd never been in his room. It was a little jarring. Practically empty, except for maybe a small pile of dirty clothes in the corner, a small bedside table with that stupid damned alarm clock screaming for the whole complex to hear its complaints, and a few trashy tit posters hanging on the walls...but...no bed. No cot. Nothing else…

Where was he sleeping? He stumbled in, slamming his hand down on the clock to finally make it stop, "Mike?" He glared around the room, had he already left? He went over to the window, squinting into the light, no, his bike was still there, parked below like a silent black sentinel in the parking lot, "Hey, asshole, where are you?" The bathroom was empty too, where was he? In the closet? It was the only place left. He threw open the door and nearly screamed, his brother was hanging, amongst his clothes, by his feet from the bar, "Fuck!"

Michael's eyes snapped open, wide, yellow, feral…and then he yelped, gracelessly collapsing to the ground when his feet released their grip on the bar above, "FUCK!" He shouted back, scrambling on the ground as he tried to untangle his legs from a few pairs of jeans that had fallen with him in the process. "Sam!" He snapped, glaring up at his younger brother, his eyes having safely reverted to their disturbing, but very human blue.

"Fuck! You were fucking hanging you fucker! The alarm wouldn't stop!"

"You screamed in my face, you dick!" He snapped right back at him, climbing to his feet and leaning against the doorframe, "Jesus Christ…" There had never been such a stream of curses exchanged between the two brothers, but their sleep-deprived minds didn't seem to notice, in the face of Sam's uncomfortable discovery of his brother's sleeping arrangements.

Michael poked him in the chest, pushing Sam out of the way as he reached out with one free arm to blindly grasp at a shirt and throw it over his shoulder, "knock. Knock next time," he grumbled, stumbling towards the master bedroom. "Bread...toaster in the kitchen...butter...help yourself," he mumbled in a garbled phrase, still barely coherent.

"How can you sleep like that? Am I gonna sleep like that? Fuck, you were like dead, the alarm was going off. No way knocking would have woken you up."

Michael's only response was slamming the door behind him, followed by the immediate rush of water. His brother had always sucked when first waking up but now he was worse. He didn't want to think that he would ever end up like that. He stuck his bread in the toaster, pushing down the button, how had they wound up like this? A pair of half vampire brothers. He shook his head, they could both be fixed. He turned to look at the bathroom door. He'd do whatever it took to make sure that they both made it out of this alive and human. Now that he knew the albino bastard was still alive, they had a target at least. He still wasn't sure what to think about what his brother had told him the night before. After 8 years, how much of his brother was really left, he wondered. Sure, he looked like him, talked like him, but was it really him anymore?

"Sam!" Michael shouted from his bathroom, "toast. Make toast for me too!" He added grumpily, which at least seemed to border a little on the normal side of asshole bigger brother. Maybe there still was a little of the old Mike left. The annoying parts, anyway. It was another good half hour before he finally stumbled into the kitchen and snatched a plate from the counter, shoving room temperature toasted bread into his mouth and grumbling under his breath before slipping the plate into the kitchen sink. "C'mon...you can sleep in the office," he informed him curtly, "we'll take your car."

"You're mean in the morning." He yawned, rubbing his eyes, "Let's go." He grabbed his keys and stumbled outside, "Too bright, how do you deal with this?"

Michael shrugged in response, shoving a pair of sunglasses on his face, "I manage. Don't worry...we'll fix you…" The journey to Sam's car was a bit of a hassle, but they did finally manage to make it, Michael occasionally giving him a concerned frown, "you think you can manage driving right now?"

"Better than you can." He snarked in return before pausing, "What about fixing you?" He asked, getting behind the wheel, "I mean, we know who the head vampire is for you too."

Michael grunted noncommittally and let his head rest against the passenger window. That asshole was just using his car as an excuse to get an extra nap!

"Hey, honey," Georgia whispered, tapping on the office desk to rouse Sam as she placed a styrofoam cup of coffee near his hand, "your brother told me you'd need a pick-me-up right about now. So, you've got the flu, huh?" She smiled down at him, tossing back her short blonde ponytail over her shoulder. The shop secretary, and the only person who pretty much ever talked to the customers. She made sure Mike didn't scare them away when he was on duty.

He nodded, smiling at her, she was pretty, "Yeah, thanks." He wrapped his hands around it, enjoying the warmth, "So, what's it like working with Mike?"

She ran her hands over her blouse, straightening out the wrinkles, "that's a funny question. You know your own brother, don't you? Is he different at home? Doesn't talk much. Does his job…never flirts, never even catches a hint," she rolled her eyes dramatically, "he's a nice guy when you're not making eye contact. Otherwise…" she leaned forward with a conspiratorial smile, "I don't think he's much of a people person."

He laughed, couldn't help it, "Yeah, he wasn't always like this ya know. There was an accident a few years back and he didn't come out of it quite the same." He glanced toward where his brother was working, "He used to flirt all the time, biggest jock in school." He shrugged, "He's still a good brother though at least."

Georgia smiled, "well, that's good to hear. Nice to know I'm not working with a psychopath," she laughed, pulling away from the desk and heading towards the door, "let me know if you need anything else, hon. Not a lot of clients come in on Sundays around here. I've got plenty of free time." It was amazing how little she seemed to be affected by Mike's personality, but...well, sure he always had that creepy attitude going for him, but...he wasn't a bad guy. Didn't act like one. Never went out of his way to mess with people. Yeah, deep down, he was still the same person. Sam just had to remind himself occasionally. Plus, now he was definitely getting a whole new perspective on things...especially the hunger side of it…He shook his head, if Michael could do this so could he.

It just didn't seem to make sense that Alan apparently couldn't…

He drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair he was sitting in. Things had changed so much in the years since he went into hibernation. He needed to consider the future and think about reforming a pack. Alan and Sam were like the others that had stumbled upon his resting place, accidents. Feeling threatened, he did the only sensible thing, make the invaders controllable. He supposed that's what brought the hunters to his door in the first place. At least he had entertainment now and he was feeling much better after feeding on the owner of this lovely house. In fact, his last meal had returned his youth to him.

It had been a shame to lose all of his 'children', but they were rather useless, in the grand scheme of things. Explorers, hikers, drifters, a hodge-podge of innocents and the very lowest common denominators of the human race, who made their first kills and immediately crawled down into the darkness to rest beside their master for the ensuing decades. In truth, the bumbling fools known as Sam and Alan had somehow managed to relieve him of the burden of getting rid of them on his own. He simply couldn't abide with weak 'offspring', as it were. Hopefully this new generation would fare much better, now that he planned to stay awake for a few decades and guide them.

Edgar, no longer a silent and dazed victim of poorly chosen eye contact, was bound and gagged in the corner of the room. Alan, on the other hand, was standing nervously in the doorway, watching him. Forced to be the audience to his meal last night, lest his brother become part of it, the hunter was much less brash in the early hours of a new evening.

"Tell me something, Alan, things have changed over the years. Technology is fascinating, what can you tell me of the changes that have been wrought in this world. Communications, attire, share with me what you know." He licked a stray drop of blood off his fingers.

"...Cars...dishwashers...game shows," Alan replied quietly, moodily.

"A little louder, Alan, be polite." He could at least instill in him a sense of respect.

"SKORTS," Alan raised his voice, "skirt-shorts. That's what you missed. Nothing worth staying awake for. Might as well just pull whatever kind of magic tricks you've got up your sleeve and let us go, then just climb back down in your little cave...I'm sure next time you wake up, things'll be better."

He sighed, "I'm not going back to sleep for awhile, the two of you woke me up and I'm going to enjoy myself. Things will be easier on you and your brother if you cooperate. I could always turn him as well…" He trailed off. That was something he didn't want to do, what he had seen of the other brother was disappointing to say the least, "So, share with me."

Edgar whimpered behind his gag, turning plaintive eyes on Alan before the other brother gave a quick shake of his head in warning to keep him from flipping his shit. "Mom pants," Alan went on, holding up his hand to tick off the things he could think of, "pop music, um...Ted Dansen...television, Doc Martens. Give me a rough estimate here, when did you pull a Rip Van Winkle, cause I have absolutely no clue what you do and do not know about."

He tipped his head back briefly, "Hmm, what year is it now?"

"1993…"

"It's been thirty years." He said, looking back at Alan.

"Oh…Well, then. Uh...Elvis is dead."

"How disappointing, he was a talented man, there's nothing that can be done about it now however."

Alan nervously fiddled with the bottom of his shirt, unbuttoning and re-buttoning it to keep his hands busy, "the people who lived here...police are going to find out you murdered them…"

"Do you think I'm worried about the police? They're only human, however I'm not one to draw attention. We will be moving on tomorrow. We do need to find dear Samuel."

Alan clenched his fists, prepared to take action, but then his eyes landed on Edgar, and he managed to bite back his anger enough to keep his thoughts to himself. It was clear he had some time to go before he fell into place properly, but that shouldn't be a problem. He'd met far more difficult and intelligent hunters than these young men. "What's your name?" Alan asked him, "what are we supposed to call you?"

"Quinton, however Master works just as well."

"Qu...seriously?" Alan balked, "Quinton?!"

"Is that a problem?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Not as much as harming innocent people, no," Alan replied slowly, edging towards his brother around the side of the room, keeping as much distance between himself and the master vampire as possible.

"Get some rest tonight, we leave tomorrow. You know where your friend is, yes?"

He looked as if he was debating whether or not to say anything, but one quick glance at Ed made his decision for him, as much as Alan apparently struggled with the guilt, "...yyy...yeah…but his brother's a halfie too, and a crazy muscled ape, so good luck getting past him."

Michael wiped at his hands with a pink rag, tossing it into his toolbox and stalking out of the garage to go see how Sam was holding up in the office, and he wasn't at all surprised when he got that familiar feeling in the back of his mind. They were nearby. Watching. He snorted under his breath as he pulled the door open and slammed it shut behind him. Georgia was at the counter filling out some paperwork, and his little brother was hovering around the water cooler, watching her.

"Georgia, car's done. They can pick it up in the morning, finished earlier than I thought I would," Michael told her, and headed towards the employee bathroom to give his hands a good scrub. Sam watched him leave, and he looked far too intent on that fact for his own good.

Georgia smiled over at Sam and pushed her paperwork aside, "can't believe you decided to stick around here for eight hours! You really that worried Michael won't return your car to you?" That was the excuse they'd given her. He said he just didn't feel like riding his bike. Because 'take your little potentially murderous brother to work so he doesn't chomp down on the neighbors day' was a little ridiculous.

He nodded, "Yeah, it's better than his bike, he's jealous."

She slowly raised her eyebrows, "he's...jealous? Of your Yellow Yugo?" Not being the sort of person to crush a man's dreams and ego, Georgia smiled politely and tossed her ponytail, "of course he is...it's a very nice car. You did a good job with it, Sam."

He beamed at her, "Love that car, try to take good care of her."

"Oh, yes," she nodded, "Michael told me he was secretly jealous of it earlier." She brushed her hand over her shoulder to scratch at her neck.

He swallowed hard, licking his lips slightly, she was so pretty and...his eyes went wide and he looked away, blushing.

"Something wrong?" He could hear the smile in her voice. He used to make excuses to drop by once in awhile just to see that smile. Her lips always painted dark red...as red as her blood probably was. "You're being awfully shy today," Georgia laughed.

"I…" He was hoping Michael was paying attention, he needed his brother. But the water was still running in the bathroom.

"Sam? You alright?" She walked around the side of the counter, flats padding over the carpet as she drew closer, "you're looking pretty pale...do you want something to drink?" She glanced over at the empty water cooler, "could get you some more coffee...I think we've got some strawberry Kool aid left in the employee fridge."

"Kool aid would be awesome, just feeling a little sick again, flu…" He swallowed again. Then she put a hand on his shoulder..and god...it was so warm. He felt something stir, and it wasn't below the belt. Then, the water shut off in the bathroom.

"I'll get you some Kool aid, then," she replied sweetly. He wished she would go faster, his fangs hung heavy in his mouth. Mike could say whatever he wanted, but raccoon was not a strong enough substitute to keep him from going crazy.

Georgia turned on her heels to leave, then paused and turned back to him, scratching at her neck again, "did you want a straw?"

He nodded mutely, "Please." He tried to keep the plaintive mew out of his voice and wasn't sure if he was successful. She turned back and began to walk away. The bathroom door swung open. Mike stepped out and glanced over at him curiously.

"You alright, Sam?" He asked him, closing the bathroom door behind him.

"No, Mike." His voice came out in a hiss around his fangs, "I...I…" He clenched his eyes shut.

"GEORGIA, I'M GOING TO TAKE SAM HOME," Michael called out, "TELL NED I HAD TO LEAVE A COUPLE HOURS EARLY, BUT I'VE GOT EVERYTHING PRETTY MUCH TAKEN CARE OF!" He didn't turn around to make sure he heard, simply stalked forward and threw an arm around Sam's shoulders, hastily guiding him towards the door, "Christ, the shit I have go through for you sometimes, Sam…" When they were rushing across the parking lot, Michael leaned forward to whisper in his little brother's ear, "you think you can make it, or what? How close were you in there?"

He swallowed again, "Really close, she's just…" His hands clenched into fists, trying to ground himself, "Mike, how do you do it?"

"Practice," he replied quietly as he reached the passenger door, "give me your keys."

He scrambled into his pocket, quickly handing them over. Normally he'd never let anyone drive his car but it was an emergency. Michael snatched them away without a word, quickly unlocking the door and nodding for him to climb inside.

"Sam, I'm going to need you to just sit there, stay quiet, and...I don't know...shred a newspaper or something with your teeth if it gets really bad. Just don't get out of the car. I'm going to take care of something real quick. You probably don't want to see it," Michael sighed, tucking the keys into his pocket.

He nodded, settling into the car while his fingers looked for something to grab onto, he wanted to sink his teeth in, god he needed it. His eyes landed on a self-help book for nail biters, and he decided that would have to do.

Michael, meanwhile, slammed the door and stalked away from the car. Sam got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, but focused on biting into the book. Thankfully, he didn't hear his brother calling out David's name.

David wasn't expecting Michael to show up let alone realize they weren't far off and were keeping an eye on his little brother so when he heard his named called he was, he could admit, caught a little off guard. He snuffed out his cigarette, watching as Michael came to them for once. It felt good.

"Michael, what do you need?" He questioned, "Finally decided to come home?"

Michael frowned, tucking his hands into his pockets. Always frowning these days. Never happy. "I need help. With my brother."

"Your halfling brother." He stated, "Tell me what you want and I'll give you an answer."

"Can you fix him?" Michael asked softly, avoiding making even a semblance of eye contact. Clearly, this wasn't easy for him.

"Can help you find his master and kill him, we can do that," he paused, drawing it out, "but there's a catch."

He didn't seem too surprised, nor did he press for more details. Instead, he impatiently pulled his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms, waiting for David to continue talking. Dramatics were, alas, wasted on the brunette.

"You come home." He said, locking eyes with him.

"I've got a lease," Michael told him impatiently, "six months left to go." A fairly empty excuse.

David shrugged, that was the deal, the only deal, "Your loss, not mine."

He gave an irritated snort, "when exactly do you want me to 'come home', and what's the extra catch?" He looked like he was already prepared for an argument. No change there.

"After we take care of Sam's little problem you'll come home with us. Simple."

"That's it? Nothing else?"

He shrugged, "You admit what you are, not saying you have to feed but you're one of us."

The rest of them, who'd been silently watching, exchanged a few smirks and relieved thoughts. If he agreed to this, which he obviously would, it meant they were a lot...a lot closer to finally ending this pointless charade.

"So, do we have a deal?" David held his hand out to shake on it. He watched Michael slowly uncross his arms and reach out to grab his hand. Then he made a move to pull away and end their exchange as quickly as possible. David kept a firm grip on his hand, "Alright, let's go take care of your little brother, I bet he's hungry."

"Starving," Michael replied darkly, finally managing to yank his hand from David's grasp, tenderly rubbing at his palm and glaring at the blonde with no small measure of irritation. "He thinks one of the Frog brothers is the one who tried to turn him…"

David let out a snort, "I doubt it. A newly turned vamp doesn't really have the strength it takes to turn someone."

"Really?" Michael asked, curious despite himself, "I thought it just took a bit of blood…"

"It takes blood of a vampire with strength to actually turn someone. If it was just blood there'd be a lot more vampires around and a lot more wild ones." He leaned back against his bike, "So, whoever turned your brother had strength."

"He's got black eyes," Michael blurted out, glancing back towards the car and then at David again. "...When he eats...and his mouth is packed with fangs. You ever see someone like that?"

The blonde looked thoughtful, "Hmm, not sure, might have, I'll have to think on it a bit. For now though, gotta get Sam some grub." It surprised Michael that they ever even would hunt animals, "I'm old Michael, I've hunted animals before."

"Then why do you eat people?" He asked flatly, though any real semblance of legitimate sympathy for human beings had long since died in him. It was more curiosity than anything at this point.

"Animals are disgusting, I meant I hunted animals when I was human. Besides, hot blood will fill little Sammy up better than that cold shit."

Michael took a deep breath and sighed, "I'll go let Sam know I'm going to be a few minutes, then…" The likelihood of getting back to his place in time to get an extra bottle of cold blood for his brother to down didn't seem very good anyway. He also wasn't too sure whether or not Sam would act stupid and try to take a bite out of him instead...not that Michael couldn't knock him out if he had to.