Friday, and the first week of school was finally over. Sam couldn't believe he'd made it. He was just wrapping up his bubble bath and getting ready to head over to the Frog brothers' house to spend the night. His thoughts were running a mile a minute. Even twisting his hair into lathery masterpieces wasn't helping. Nanook sensed his mood and paced the bathroom whining.

Between classes and trying to figure out a plan, each passing day had ticked Sam's stress level up one more notch. He felt like a cartoon thermometer; any minute now, the little red bulb at the bottom was going to explode. He couldn't talk to his mom now without feeling terrible. All his grandpa wanted to do was hide in his workshop or go out to visit with a customer, more often than not it was his girlfriend with all the weird projects to stuff. Michael was probably dead, or undead, or just an asshole who's decided to ditch his whole family. Sam wished he could believe the last one. At least it would mean he was ok. Sam felt really and truly alone. Except—he had Edgar and Alan. School had already taught him they were walking bully bait in the first week.

Dunking his head under the water, Sam let the shampoo in his hair grow a little thinner. Enough for him to run his fingers through it until it was no longer stiff. He quickly reached for the drain stopper and unplugged it, allowing the tub to empty so he could stand up and shower the rest of the soap and shampoo off.

"Sam?" He heard his mother's voice and a gentle knock at the door, "honey, how much longer are you going to be? I want to go ahead and get on the road so I can drop you off with your friends while it's still light out. I've already packed a crucifix in your duffel, and there's a few dollars on your bed so you boys can order something to eat."

"Okay mom," Sam shouted over the spray of the shower, scrubbing soap from his face and blinking rapidly. He ran through the plan in his head one more time. Edgar and Alan would take him to the comic shop with them after Lucy dropped him off, they'd wait and then give her a call so Edgar could pretend to be Mike and act like he had a cold, then they'd take a few stakes and crosses to the boardwalk and try to spot his brother. He wasn't really sure what to do after that. Maybe spray him with holy water if the Frog brothers had any left over. Then they'd know for sure. Knowing was–well, Sam supposed knowing was better than the alternative of waiting and biting his tongue and praying his brother would come home. Right?


She was pretty. Long blonde hair, a short summer dress, lipstick bright enough to stop traffic. She was confident, too. Enough to get the attention of a shy biker on the boardwalk and lure him from his friends to a kitschy bar loaded with shell decor and tourists chasing the last week of sales before the summer was declared over. He was cute. A bit naive. A bit young. Maybe too young, her friends would've told her.

"I think they followed you, Michael," she teased. He had a pretty name to match the face.

"Really?" He asked, glancing over his shoulder surprised to see his friends slipping through the door.

She pinched a red drink straw between her front teeth and nodded. "Your friends look pretty tough," she remarked, knowing the type. Kids always had something to prove. Tonya remembered that age all too well.

"Oh, they are," he nodded quickly, looking down at the beer she'd ordered him like he was scared any minute someone might card him. Cute. This was such a fun little trip. Who knew the teens in Santa Carla were so adorable? Tonya had originally only come here for the cheap beach scenery, but a detour didn't hurt when the sun went down.

"You think they'd mind if you walked a girl home?" She asked, lowering her drink straw. Tonya was confident he wouldn't turn her down. He was just too sweet and simple.

"I-I don't think they'd mind at all!" Michael stammered, leaning towards her at the bar. His gaze slid downwards, and she almost thought he was more fascinated by her neck than her cleavage. Maybe he had a weird thing. They came in all shapes, she reminded herself.

"They've got their own dates, too," he added, looking back. Sure enough, two of the boys were chatting with a girl near the seagull-themed jukebox. One of them had blonde hair longer than Tonya's teased like a glam rock star. The other had curls and a patch-covered jacket.

Another one of his friends had sidled into a booth with a couple on a date. Tonya's eyebrows shot up in surprise when she noted how excited the pair seemed to be to engage with the black-haired stud. Well, she would be too, but even Tonya didn't like sharing.

"Not all of them," Tonya noted.

"Huh?" Michael asked, jerking up to meet her gaze. For an instant, his sweet smile of innocence seemed to falter and harden. Tonya's heart sped up, fluttering in her chest. But she calmed after looking deeply into his eyes, and a sense of calm washed over her.

She smiled at him, licking her lips, "they don't all have dates. Your friends." Tonya pointed to the odd man out. The one with the spiky blonde mullet. He just leaned against a wall smoking a cigarette, examining his zippo lighter.

Michael shrugged, "David's fine. He'll manage." Tonya almost thought she detected a hint of irritation in his tone. She let it slide. Young men like him, no matter how sweet, got bored with talking after a while.

"Finish your drink," she directed, tossing back the last of her old fashioned and tossing the drink straw back in the glass. "We can find ourselves a little space, Michael. Maybe a nice room."

He looked back over at his friend with the zippo lighter. Something unspoken passed between them. Maybe the other boy was jealous of them, she thought. Tonya preened, giving her hair a flick over her shoulder and standing up from her bar stool. It was nice to feel popular once in a while. Santa Carla was just so friendly.

Michael eyed his beer thoughtfully, then looked back up at Tonya with a slow smile, "I'm good on the beer. Maybe I'll have something else later."

They left the bar together, passing quickly through the thinning crowds on the boardwalk. She didn't notice the rest of his friends and their companions leaving soon after, too focused on her own company. Neither did she notice that they were being followed. Not just by David, but someone else in the masses of people about them. The second person clapped a hand on Michael's shoulder.

"Mike!" A high pitched voice shouted in their ears. Tonya jumped in shock, spinning around with her companion to find a small blonde teenager staring at the pair of them with a horrified expression.


Michael stared back at his little brother with a blank expression on his face. He supposed they were bound to run into each other eventually. His meal for the night placed a hand on his shoulder casually and leaned against him. Michael managed not to wrinkle his nose at the intense waft of Charley perfume and alcohol assaulting his senses. He'd take what he could get tonight.

"Sam," Michael acknowledged the younger Emerson. He wasn't especially excited to see his little brother. The night he'd made his first kill, something inside him had burned away. What was left behind didn't have any feelings left for anything or anyone but blood and his pack. Sam's pained expression didn't register at all.

"Come home, Mike. Please." Sam urged, putting a hand into the pocket of his oversized and over-designed coat. Michael narrowed his eyes, taking a step back. He got a funny feeling just then and didn't like it.

"This a friend of yours?" The meal asked him, forcing Michael to remind himself he was trying to put on an act at that moment.

"He's my brother," Michael admitted softly. Using that word felt odd now. Like he was lying, which to be fair he did quite a lot when he had to play nice with his food.

He watched as Sam's fingers clenched around whatever was in his pocket, "mom's worried about you."

Michael smiled not-so-patiently, growing more agitated by the second. If it was just them there, he'd probably eat his brother to get rid of him, but right now making that kind of scene wasn't an especially smart idea. So he just shrugged, leaning back into his meal's grasp.

"She'll be fine. If you really want me to visit, my friends would be happy to come with me," he told him, noticing David slipping closer to them through the crowd. Sam hadn't seen him.

"Or we can just meet you at the comic shop," Michael added, "later tonight?" The others would be all too happy to finally deal with the wannabe hunters. They were just waiting for the right moment.

"Friends?!" Sam squeaked, taken aback.

"Long time no see," a smug voice interrupted them. David clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder, spinning him around. The teenager yelped, yanking his hand from his pocket and pulling out a small cross. Michael flinched, a sense of nausea twisting his stomach. The cross went flying into the crowd, and the nausea immediately faded. Relieved, Michael turned to his meal, who looked as if she suddenly wanted to disappear amid the thinly veiled family drama.

"Sorry," he whispered in her ear, not especially sorry. His eyes focused on his pack leader to see what would happen next.

David leaned close to Sam's ear, "do you really want us to come visit? Because we can, just invite us over and we'll be there in a heartbeat."

Sam took a step back from David, slamming into Michael in the process, who in turn gave him a somewhat rough shove while keeping a protective arm around Tonya. Not that he really cared if she was hurt, but he didn't want to scare her off.

"Y-you–" Sam stammered, "-y-y-y-you're…"

Michael could hear his little brother's heart rate kicking into overdrive. It made his mouth water. He clenched his jaw to calm himself. His eyes darted towards David, "what do you wanna do?"

David shrugged, "food first. Then we'll see."

Michael gave a quick, curt nod at David, redirecting his attention to his meal, "c'mon. He's just going through some things."

Tonya looked between the three of them, thoughtful. It didn't take much to push into her thoughts and give her a little nudge to go with him.

David lingered, eyeing Sam with a vicious half-smirk. "See you tonight, Sammy-boy."