Author's notes: Coming down from yesterday's slightly dirtier chapter with something a little more light-hearted, I'd just like to mention geese are some of the meanest bastards I've ever met. None of them were hurt in the writing of this chapter, but I wouldn't be too upset if they were...
It was 12:15 in the afternoon when Michael felt a hand gently pressing into his shoulder to rouse him. The intense weight of his limbs and eyelids might have forced him back into the comfortable abyss of sleep throughout the remaining hours of the day, but that homo-erotic fuckfest he'd just been a party to in his nightmare was enough of a reason for him to seize forward into a seated position, completely alert. He found himself gazing directly into the bleary eyes of an old priest.
"I don't mind you two sleeping here for the day, son, but sister Rose has to sweep between the pews," the old man had a gentle smile and a soft voice. It made the scent of blood pumping just beneath the skin of his wrinkled neck all the more alluring. He could swear the skin was so translucent, his veins practically popped up and begged to be torn open.
Shit! Michael turned his face away from the priest's tempting jugular, which was just as well. If he lost control right now and killed someone...in a church...he'd probably immediately burst into flames afterwards.
"Star," the young man gave his sleeping companion a gentle shake. Judging by the way she reacted, lurching up with a gasp, eyes wide and dilated, he had no doubts in his mind she'd had a similarly upsetting nightmare of her own.
If David really did enter his dream, and Star's as well, the implications were terrifying. It meant they were never truly free from him at any given point...but at least it also meant Michael didn't have any unknown pent-up urges lurking in his subconscious for a rough ride on David's dick. So, at least there was that. Small comfort though it may be.
"Now, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, but give us a few hours to set the place to rights. Today's cleaning day," the priest spoke again, almost apologetic. He'd been reluctant to wake them both, as exhausted as they must be to have slept so late.
Star squeezed tightly to Michael's hand at her side, rubbing and stroking at his rhythm to the tune of the old man's pulse. Only three days in, and they had already been pushed near the brink of their control. Of that much, Michael was certain.
"Th...thank you, father..." Michael mumbled under his breath, glancing down at the rough blanket that had been covering his and Star's legs. It didn't really provide any warmth, but the old man couldn't know that. The gesture in itself was comforting.
"Come back at around four, and we can have a nice talk," the priest patted Michael on his shoulder and then slowly stood up, his joints cracking in the process. The man couldn't have been less than seventy, by the look of things. He probably wouldn't taste too good, anyway.
It was a struggle to drag themselves out of the building, neither of them feeling too terribly motivated to move very far. But once they were out the door, at least the nausea and dizziness disappeared. And Michael was able to steel himself to lead Star towards the car, so they could perhaps try to drive a little bit further, maybe even into the next town and onward to the next church. Maybe one step further away from the Lost Boys.
When they approached the Ford Fairlane, Michael felt a sudden weight in the pit of his stomach. Four very familiar bikes surrounded it. Two on the side, one at the front, and one at the rear. And to top it off, the car tires had been slashed to ribbons. There was no fucking way that thing was getting them out of town tonight...and the message was pretty clear. One way or another, even if they managed to last another day or so, the road for Michael and Star ended here.
"Michael..." Star gripped at his jacket, as she pressed into his side and tucker her face against Michael's shoulder.
"...God damn it..." Michael growled, and he knew very well it was not a sound he should be making. It was deep. Gravelly. And beneath the surface, there was a disturbing level of rage that seemed to be bubbling over inside him. The more he thought about it, the longer he glared at those fucking bikes, the faster his heart began to race in his chest, and the angrier he became.
"It's okay, it's okay," Star pulled away from him, reaching up to Michael's chin with both hands and pulling his face until they were forehead to forehead, eyes looking into each others. Soulful brown and ocean blue. "They can't get to us, as long as we're always in the church when the sun goes down. They can't get to us, Michael, do you hear me?" She breathed deep, gasping out the words against his lips, trying to center him. And, little by little, it worked.
He panted against her, a smirk finally beginning to tug at his mouth, and he drew his arms up around her torso, where his hands seemed to fit so perfectly.
"Thanks," Michael sighed against her lips, slowly (and very reluctantly) pulling away to look back at the car. He was still fucking mad, but he'd at least calmed down enough not to go on a rampage. Shit, was this how he was always going to be, now? Angry, and constantly on the verge of losing control of himself? It was a wonder Star could even put up with him.
"Michael...I think maybe we have a bigger problem than the car right now..." Star turned her head away to gaze out across the street where a woman was walking with a stroller, fanning at her face with a paperback novel.
"Yeah?" He followed her eyes, licking his lips.
"If we don't do something about it...soon...I don't think either you or I are going to be able to handle the hunger the next time it takes control. We've got to figure something out," she sighed, sliding her hands up to his and pulling them from around her waist.
Michael nodded. She was right, of course. The fact that he was actively looking at a young mother and baby like they were a five course dinner was evidence enough of that. He dug into his jacket pocket to pull out his sunglasses and push them up on his face to guard against the harsh glare of the sun bearing down on them, retrieving Star's own from his other pocket and passing them to her. She immediately mimicked him, after snatching them away.
"What do you think we should do?" Michael crossed his arms, "run a job on the local clinic and raid their blood supply? Yeah, I can see that working out real well..."
"Don't be an ass. Remember the deer in the car? I know you got some blood in your mouth. I did, too. I think...maybe...animals might work. At least until we find a better solution...something else..."
"Something else?"
"Okay, fine," Star crossed her arms as well, stubbornly glaring at him and giving Michael a taste of his own moody medicine, "you tell me what we should do, Michael."
"I think..." Michael paused, "I think...we should do that."
"Do what?"
"I think we should find some animals..." He wrinkled his nose at the thought, but really, it was better than just sitting by and waiting until the hunger got so intense that he grabbed the nearest passerby for a quick snack.
Somehow, despite his intense exhaustion, which was only getting worse the longer the sun was out, Michael managed to begin walking with Star at his side. Down one street. Two. Three. An hour. Even longer...Until there were less and less buildings, and more and more trees. He wracked his brain all the while, trying to remember exactly what he'd seen along the way when he was pulling into town the previous evening, and couldn't recall spotting even one cow grazing in a pasture, or a horse tucked away behind a copse of trees.
The combination of the sun, the scent of wet grass, the sound of bugs nestling in the soil beneath their feet, Michael felt like his senses were on assault, and he was quickly developing a migraine. The kind he'd usually get if he went too long without eating actual food. Yet, he wasn't hungry...not in the same way.
"Micheal!" Star shouted, pulling him from his thoughts as she dashed up ahead of him with a sudden burst of energy he hadn't expected she had in her. He squinted ahead, pulling down his sunglasses just slightly so he could discern what had her so excited. Just up ahead, there was a very small pond, and on the surface of it...a large flock of the most hideous geese he'd ever seen, comfortably napping. Well, it wasn't perfect, but fuck...it was better than nothing.
When she just reached the shore of the pond, Star had stripped off her shirt and tossed it aside, before quickly getting to work on her jeans.
"Star, what the hell are you doing?!" Michael blurted, running towards her.
"I don't want to get my clothes wet. I don't have any more shirts," Star tossed her hair over her shoulder, grinning back at him. She had a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she shimmied out of the hip-hugging denim and took mincing steps into the water, goosebumps flaring up on her arms as she shivered from the sudden shock of chill brushing against her feet.
"What if someone's watching?!" Michael looked over his shoulder nervously, though he knew there'd be no one else behind him. They were a good half mile away from the road at this point.
"Then I guess they'll get a good show," Star shrugged, clearly past caring as she waded further into the pond until the water was brushing up against her naval. She remained in her underwear, but likely only because it wouldn't take too long to dry, whereas jeans and a shirt might take a good few hours.
She paused, spinning about in the lake, creating gentle circles in the greenish water, putting her fists on her hips just below the surface, "are you coming? I'm not hunting down your meal for you, Michael. You're a big boy."
He huffed, slipping off his jacket and tossing it to the grass with a grunt, quickly getting to work on the rest of his clothes. This was stupid. This was crazy. This was...well, it was kinda hot...but did he really need to get worked up right now? That freaky fucking dream about David still playing in his mind? The asshole was probably somehow influencing him even now, pressing the thought of it back into his mind. Michael wouldn't put it past him. Well, fine. Whatever. He was hungry, and nearly naked, about to take a dip with the sexiest chick on the planet. If this didn't put him in a good mood, then nothing would. So Michael let go of his worries, his nagging thoughts, his lingering feelings of anger, he did the same thing he'd done for the past two years to make the time go by faster, and he just lived in the moment.
As he splashed into the water, Star held up a hand to silence him, glaring, "don't make so much noise! You'll set them off!" She warned, sinking lower into the water and paddling towards the geese, slowly and calmly, doing her best not to disturb the tension in the water too much.
Michael was less focused on the geese, and more on the slender curve of her neck bobbing in the water when she pressed forward, glistening under the mid-day sun. In a way, it reminded him of the first night he'd seen her on the boardwalk. Sexy. Mysterious. Just beyond his reach...he was falling for her all over again, and falling hard. Just like then.
"Come on, if you get around them from the other side, I think we can grab a few before they know what's happening!" Star whispered excitedly, turning back to glance back at Michael. For a moment, her breath caught in her throat, and she quickly turned away. Was it just him, or...? No...probably just him. He might be getting horny as fuck, and thank god his nether regions were hidden from view, but he seriously doubted Star had anything else on her mind but a good meal. And he couldn't honestly say he wasn't just as hungry.
Michael paddled around, just past her, until he was several feet away from the flock, approaching them from a different angle. It was odd, catching the sound of over a dozen tiny hearts thrumming in a very different beat than the one he'd recognized in Star, and the other people he'd encountered since drinking David's blood again. But it wasn't...bad...and if he'd looked back at his companion at that very moment, he would have seen a flash of gold surfacing in her eyes to match his own, delicate fangs cutting into her gums for the first time to dangle in her mouth in preparation for the kill.
It wasn't an easy hunt, unfortunately. Michael was a noisy swimmer, unlike Star, who seemed to float about in the water as if she were a god damned water nymph. She certainly looked like one right then, anyway...albeit a very vicious one.
Feathers flew as he tried to wrangle his kill, and the goose wasn't too happy about it either. When Michael tried to wrestle it into his arms, the gangly birdy bastard pecked rapidly at his face, hissing and snapping, practically drawing blood in the process. It didn't escape him that the great irony of this situation was that if it managed to get any of his blood in it's beak, there was a distinct possibility it would become even more wild and murderous. What would that make it, he wondered? A quarter vampire? A goose of the Baskervilles? Okay, he was getting delirious now. He needed to pin this damn thing to his chest so he could get a firm grip on it.
"Michael, hurry up!" Star scolded, her hands wrapped tightly around her own quarry's neck as she used her thumbs to pin it's beak closed. Of course, the wings were still flapping wildly, but she was still having a lot more success than he seemed to be.
With a surge of frustrated energy, Michael finally managed to bury his fangs into the bird's neck, and restrain it...just barely. Star had done likewise, as if they were some kind of synchronized pack. In a way, they were. Right now, they both shared a connection in their blood, after all, thanks to David.
It didn't taste quite the same, nor nearly as good as his brief taste of deer's blood. Nor was it as truly satisfying as he suspected the man he'd almost torn into the night before might have been...but...the more he drank, the less painful the hunger became. It didn't go away, but it certainly eased. Enough for him to clear his mind and set his thoughts in order. Enough for him to finally quell the anger he didn't realize he was still stoking.
The rest of the geese had taken off by then, perhaps sensing on some primal level what danger their little feathered necks would be in if they stuck around.
"That was fun. Messy, but fun..." Michael remarked, nestled in the grass by the shore of the pond with Star pressed up against his chest, her hair spread out around her head as it dried under the sun.
"Michael Emerson. Goose murderer. Doesn't really have much of a ring, does it?" Star teased, tweaking one of his chest hairs, making him jump a little.
"Hey! Easy!" He chided, slapping her shoulder with his free arm, while the other was tucked behind his head to cushion it on the grass.
She sat up to look up at his face, and giggled, reaching a hand up to pluck a small downy feather from the corner of Michael's lips and blow it away.
He grinned up at her, "I think next time we should try something without wings. Maybe...dog?"
"Michael!" She slapped his chest, laughing and leaning back down to snuggle closer to him. Maybe they weren't perfect. The situation definitely wasn't. But they'd soak up every moment in the sun today that they could, because neither Michael nor Star had any doubt it could very well be their last chance to do so.
"You think we should catch a few squirrels or something for the road? Just in case we get hungry on the way back to the church?" Michael suggested, and she tweaked his chest hair again.
It wasn't fun sleeping in a motel room with tape liberally coating the window, but the boys wanted to stay close to Michael and Star. David had already decided tonight was the night he took the final step in forcing their hands, and it was safer this way. The barn had been comfortable, of course. Sleeping in their natural positions was always more enjoyable than piled on a mildewy mattress...but it was simply too far away. And the closer David was, the more he could sense exactly what Star and Michael were up to while he slept.
He was furious. Livid now...though his calm expression, frozen in sleep, betrayed nothing. The other Lost Boys could certainly feel the tension.
"I'm not surprised. The deer was fun, but I told you it was stupid. Only gave them ideas," Dwayne remarked.
"Shut up!" David snarled back.
"Maybe we shoulda taped their mouths closed when we did it?" Paul quietly suggested, a little more than worried David might just decide to blame this on him. The deer had been his idea, after all...
"Shiiiiiiit, man! Go to sleep! We can talk about this later!" Marko grumbled. He did not like to have his beauty rest interrupted for anything in the world.
"Hush little Marko, don't say a word, mama's gonna buy you a-"
"Paul, what the fuck are you doing?" David asked, irritated.
"Just trying to help our baby boy get some more shut eye, Davey..." Paul cooed. And though it took a lot of effort on his part, David did manage to raise an arm, sluggishly, and slap punch him in the back of the head.