Author's notes: Added chapter titles. Have them on the A03 site, but wasn't sure whether I should use them here, thanks to a naughty title. So I switched it out in favor of a much less dirty word.

The fall had winded him, and Sam struggled to regain his breath beneath the body pinning him down. His heart hammered in his chest as he struggled to turn his head and look up at whoever had knocked him over.

"Mike?!" Sam squeaked, managing to finally gulp in some air. His missing brother pressed a hand to his mouth and winked.

"Keep it shut dork, or they'll see you. You're lucky it's crowded tonight," Michael rasped congenially, as if it were the most casual topic in the world, vampires stalking the boardwalk.

"Mfffhhhgn, hnggnn frnn!" Sam mumbled through Michael's hand.

"Let's go somewhere they won't see us, huh?" The older boy suggested, glancing around the throng they found themselves in. They were on the verge of being trampled, but he didn't want to risk standing up and making his little brother a bulls-eye. Especially not for Dwayne, who probably had a massive grudge right now, given their history together.

Sam didn't struggle as Michael pulled his hand away and gave him a shove, indicating that they needed to stay low with a quick gesture. So they stayed crouched on their heels, and gradually began to crawl through the crowd towards the nearest safe haven, a hot dog stand about thirty feet away. They got quite a few odd looks, but mostly from tourists. The locals had seen far stranger things than two teenage boys pretending they were babies.

As Sam crawled around and pressed his back to the side of the hot dog stall, he threw his head back and took a deep breath. Michael sat beside him and kept his eyes trained on his younger brother intently. It was kinda creepy.

"Mike, back off," Sam whispered, his voice quavering just a little. He'd seen the fifth bike over there. Even if it didn't look like Mike's, in the exact instant he'd seen it, he suspected his brother had just traded in his older one for a newer model. Because as far as he knew, there were only four members of that shit-sucking gang.

"Sorry," Michael shrugged, directing his gaze ahead of them at the entrance to a closed store-front.

When you have a million questions, and a hundred thousand worries, and about thirty reasons not to ask any of them...finding yourself at a loss for words isn't uncommon. So, for awhile, they just sat together without saying a word.

Michael was the first to break the silence, two minutes into their tight-lipped marathon.

"Yeah, I'm dead," he sighed. If he knew his motormouth of a brother, it was probably the first thing he'd want to ask. And he was right.

"...Mike...how?! Why are they back? Did you kill somebody?!" It was the answer that launched a thousand questions, and maybe Michael might have regretted even telling him...but he didn't regret finally seeing his little brother. As impossible as it was going to be to pretend he hadn't. In fact, Michael was already fairly certain David knew exactly what he was doing right then and there. But could he really be blamed for running into Sam out of the blue? Surely trying to keep his brother away from the others was something he couldn't be blamed for.

"David didn't die. We brought them back. Yes, I've killed loads of people," Michael sighed, and now it was his turn to throw his head back and lean against the hot dog stall.

Sam visibly paled, and he stared at his brother's face, studying it. He looked the same. But he also looked...different. He even sat different. Like all the tension in his shoulders was pulled in, as if at any instant he was ready to pounce at some unseen prey. He just hoped it wasn't him.

"So are...are..." Sam licked his lips, nervous. "...Are you gonna kill me?"

It was just then that Sam's life flashed before his eyes. Visions of organizing comics, sorting through his closet, taking Nanook for walks, stealing Michael's headphones when he wasn't looking, and a myriad of other things marched through his mind one-by-one, as he felt a sharp sting of pain in his neck. He squeezed his eyes closed and wailed-...then Michael stopped pinching him.

"Fucking dork," Michael snorted. "I'd have done it by now, wouldn't I, Sammy?" The reply almost sounded rehearsed. It frankly was. Michael had spent a lot of time thinking about what he'd tell his mom, his brother, and even his grandfather, if he was able to ever talk to them again. As hungry as he was, he did feel a little bit of surprise that he didn't have the urge to chow down on Sam's jugular right then and there, though. Maybe there really was some good left in him, still.

Sam rubbed at his neck, frowning. "You didn't have to pinch me so hard, dick-breath," he grumbled.

Michael's eyebrows shot up. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

"It means don't pinch me so hard!" Sam snapped back, falling into brotherly bickering as if they hadn't just spent a year apart with no idea whether they'd ever see each other again.

"Oh...yeah. Sorry, you deserved it," Michael turned away, coughing to clear his throat. For a split second, he thought...well, it didn't matter what he thought. Sam had no idea about his 'relationship' with David, he was just being a little snappy jackass.

"...Are you coming home, Mike?" Sam asked him, letting his hand drop into his lap as he said it.

"I can't, Sammy. I'm one of them now," he tossed his head in the direction of the Lost Boys.

Sam shook his head furiously, trying to maintain his cool. "I don't even...how could you...how could you kill people, Mike?!" He sputtered, partially upset at his brother's response, and partially at the idea that his brother was a murderer.

Michael shrugged. He didn't have an answer for him. Not one he'd like, anyway.

"...Do you want me to stake you, Mike?" Sam whispered, eyes growing as wide as saucers.

"What?!"

"I mean...is that why you're here tonight? You want me to stake you? Save your soul? End your eternal damnation? All that bullshit?"

"...Tell you what, Sammy, if I ever try anything on you, mom, or gramps...go ahead. Until then, I don't even want to see you touch a fucking piece of wood or holy water while I'm around, got it?" Michael wasn't threatening him, he was just being frank. No, he didn't want to be a murderer. But he also didn't want to be murdered, either. Maybe he might have wanted to be put out of his misery before he'd been fully turned, or even thought about offing himself when he was in his more dramatic moods, but at the moment...and especially after his last fight with David...he knew without a doubt that he wanted to live.

"Ed and Alan want me to kill you, Mike."

"Don't worry, David and the others kinda wanna kill you guys too. So we're even." Michael smirked and pulled Sam into a headlock, giving him a very firm noogie.

"Hey! Cut it out, shit-sucker!" Sam protested, trying to squirm out from his brother's grasp. He wanted to pretend it was Michael's inhuman vampiric strength that made the task impossible, but the fact of the matter was that he'd always been a muscle-bound asshole. At least that didn't change.

By the time Sam had recovered, and was smoothing his hands through his hair, some of the tension they'd both been hanging on seemed to have finally eased. "Star's been lookin' for you, Mike. She ran off the other day, but, I mean...like...she's coming back. I know she is. Are you gonna come see her?" He looked at his brother, determination in his face. He'd negotiate whatever deal he could if it meant getting his asshole brother back home. With his real family. The one that didn't eat people.

Wordlessly, Michael pulled his brother in for a one-armed hug and sighed into his shoulder. And when Sam realized he wasn't about to take a bite out of his neck, or assault his hair again, he relaxed. He didn't get to see Michael's guilty expression at the mention of Star, but it was just as well. He didn't need to know the truth about her too...

"We miss ya, Mike," Sam sighed.

"Stay low, Sammy. We'll be gone in a few minutes," Michael whispered in his brother's ear. And then, Sam was sitting alone in front of the hot dog cart. There was no sign his brother had ever been there.

They were silent, but they still exchanged enough animated expressions to indicate a conversation. Because they were speaking mentally. Anyone watching them would have thought the Lost Boys were either nuts, or impossibly comfortable with each other.

"Eeny meeny miny moe..." Paul moved his finger about the crowd, indicating one person after another while Marko gleefully kept two hands over his eyes to make the game a bit more democratic.

"Fuck, Paul, just pick one already!" David mentally exclaimed, jamming his cigarette in his mouth. Already he was beginning to regret letting the psycho of the group pick their quarry for the night.

"I'm picking, I'm picking!" Paul laughed aloud as he thought this, mouth wide and grinning as he continued his stupid rhyme.

"For someone who was bitching and moaning just half an hour ago about how hungry he was, you sure are taking your time," David growled after he thought this.

"Testy, aren't we?" Dwayne glanced at the pack leader with a wry smirk on his face.

"Don't mind Davey, he just got used to all the peace and quiet," Marko snickered as Paul finally stopped moving his finger about the crowd.

"Okay. That one!" Paul crowed out loud, only to find himself pointing at Michael as the somewhat sullen brunette approached them.

"Shit...do over!" Paul grabbed Marko's hands to pull them back, only to have David punch him in the shoulder.

"You got your chance to pick, and you blew it. Now it's Dwayne's turn," Marko yanked his hands back and cackled. Paul gave him a playful shove, reaching out with his mouth to try and snap at Marko's fingers.

"Having fun?" Michael re-joined them, leaning against his bike and tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. He was a lot more relaxed than he'd been when they got to the boardwalk. Almost happy. David eyed him suspiciously, but remained silent. Michael's good moods were few and far between, so he'd enjoy it while it lasted. That didn't mean he wasn't going to find out later, though. He had a feeling that whatever Michael had just done...he probably wasn't going to like it.

"I'm in the mood for groupies tonight," Dwayne interrupted David's train of thought, and they all looked over at him.

"Sounds good to me!" Paul shouted, kicking his engine into gear.

"You just get laid or something?" Marko mentally whispered to Michael, who just gave him a look of pure disgust as they rode off. "What did she look like, eh, Mikey? Tall? Tiny? Fat? A short blonde with big tits?" Paul joined in, and Michael tried his best to keep his mind clear. These two practically fueled each other's dumbass chatter.

"Inquiring minds want to know," David interrupted, and for a moment Michael flinched. Sam used to say shit like that all the time...fuck. Okay, they didn't need to know he'd just talked to his little brother. If he could just keep his mind clear, everything would be fine. Don't think of Sammy. Don't think of Sammy. Don't think of-

"FUCK, MICHAEL, SERIOUSLY?!" David's voice practically exploded in his head. Well, this was going to go well...

Shit. Shouldn't have thought of Sammy...

"...So I was partially right...it was a short blonde, then?" Paul just couldn't keep his stupid comments to himself.