Chapter Text
Michael startled awake and promptly hit his head off the car window. “Ow! Dammit.” He rubbed his head, wincing in pain and looked up.
He was in his moms cramped old car, sitting in the passenger seat. He looked to his left and his mom was driving, singing along to some song on the radio.
He looked behind him at Sam in the back, surrounded by moving boxes, reading a comic book. He looked outside the window just as the car passed a sign saying they were now entering Santa Carla.
But that couldn’t be right.
He’s been in Santa Carla for days now. As a matter of fact… memories hit him like a truck. A pain in his ear as a needle pierced his lobe. Four motorcycles roared on the boardwalk. The taste of that wine in the weird bottle. Michael letting go as a train rolled above him on the bridge. Michael… flying. The bloodlust. The plan. Defeating first David then Max.
That was supposed to be the end of it. Vampires gone. They all lived happily ever after.
Was it all a dream?
They drove to grandpa's house and everything looked exactly the same. Every little detail. De ja vu?
Michael got out and started to help carry boxes into the house and almost dropped the first one when lifting it sent a wave of pain from his side.
Right. He had almost forgotten… before… in the dream… his side had healed… he could almost chuckle to himself. Yeah, by vampire blood. He shook his head and started carrying things in. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep so soon after eating that fried food at the rest stop.
“Holy Texas chainsaw massacre.” Michael heard his brother say as they entered the house. Michael paused at that. That’s what Sam said last time…
No, there wasn’t a last time. There was a weird dream about vampires of all things and Michael just knows his brother well enough after 15 years to know what he would say.
“Your grandfather was eccentric.” His mother shrugged.
“Eccentric or a serial killer?” Michael mumbled to himself. Isn’t that what he said last time?
“It’s not like he killed them, he just stuffed them…” his mother paused, “I think.”
Michael walked away as Sam and his mother started discussing the presence of a crowbow and yet lack of a television. He examined everything in the kitchen.
It was exactly how he dreamed it… how is that possible? He hadn’t been here since he was a child. He couldn’t possibly remember it that well right? And even if he had… There's no way his grandfather would have not changed a single thing in 10 years.
He walked over to the living room, looked at the papers on the coffee table, the tv guide. Everything. Exactly the same.
He shook his head. This wasn’t possible. He started unpacking, mostly just needing something to do with his hands.
“Oh, one thing I forgot to mention…” his mother started.
“We’re sharing a room.” He finished for her.
His mother looked surprised. “How did you know?”
Yes, how did he know? Very good question.
This time he didn’t fight it, though Sam did. He just walked across the room, ignoring the keys to his motorcycle, as he knew he mother wouldn’t allow it. “I need air. I’m going for a walk.” Michael said in a monotone and walked out, not even waiting for his mothers protests.
The ocean air hit his face immediately. He started walking, not even thinking or caring about a direction. His mind was on other things.
What was going on? How was any of this possible? How was he reliving this again? His mind was spinning so much he didn’t even notice that his feet just automatically took him to the boardwalk until his body collided with someone else.
He looked up to apologize and froze. That face. Those locks. Those deep eyes full of unknown wisdom. Or maybe… known too well. “Star.” He breathed her name.
Star seemed startled by that. “How did you…” she shook her head, “Oh, I didn’t realize you were a fan.”
“A fan.” He repeated with no emotion. “The Lost Boys.” This couldn’t be real.
She gave a sly smile and dragged a finger across his chest, “Yeah, feel free to find me after the show.”
He couldn’t breathe. This was really happening. He was reliving this whole disaster all over again and…
And that meant they were still alive. The Lost Boys. David. Max.
Michael’s face went dark. He was out there. Max. Alive… well sort of. Michael made a bee line for video max and saw it for himself. He was there with his creepy ass smile and his too perfect suit. A predator in disguise as some lame creep.
He wanted to kill him there and then. But knew he couldn’t. The only reason they were able to before was his mothers element of surprise.
His mother.
If Max was here and he was truly reliving this nightmare all over again… he would be after her again.
Michael had to protect her. He had to protect Sam. He had to protect Star. His head snapped as he heard her singing. The show had started. His feet carried him toward the sound despite himself. And there he saw exactly what he knew he would. David, singing with her. The Lost Boys behind them. Paul. Marko. Dwayne. All here.
For a moment David’s eyes met Michael’s and every second they had spent together flashed before his eyes. Then David moved on, only seeing another strange face in a crowd. Not knowing that Michael had already murdered this vampire once. And he was ready to do it again.
David didn’t need to breathe. But when he woke he awoke with a sharp inhale, his hands going straight to his chest. All they felt was his own shirt. His own body. No foreign antler impaling him.
He immediately dropped to the ground, gracefully landing on his feet without a sound and looked up at the ceiling at his brothers.
They were there. Sleeping upside down as always. Marko snored softly. They were still here. Still with him. He hadn’t lost his boys after all.
David looked up darkly. What was that dream? No. It was too real to be a dream… one of Max’s tricks? But why? He’s been doing everything he was told. Why would Max force him to live out losing everything?
He wandered the cave until he came to the mattress on the floor covered in blankets. Tangled among them was Star. Also, still here. Also, hadn’t fed yet. But not human either…
Was this Max warning David of a future betrayal? Max had never cared about Star one way or another. It was David who decided to add her to their family. Sure, with Max’s blood but the head vampire didn’t care for her. Didn’t have anything against her.
And if this dream was meant to warn him why add some random family to it? The Emerson’s. None of it made sense.
Dusk was approaching. His brothers started stirring. They had a performance to do tonight. But David had his own mission. Star was going to feed. Tonight. He was not going to give her a chance to betray their family.
Marko and Paul were absorbed in their own thing, getting ready for the performance. Star went off on her own. “Scouting” she said. David didn’t even bother rolling his eyes. He knew every time she went “scouting” for who would be her first kill she was really off hunting pigeons like a stray cat.
Dwayne though, noticed something off. “David.” He said the name and nothing else.
David looked up at him, wearing a smirk like armor. “Everything is fine, Dwayne. No need to worry.” He patted his brother's shoulder and walked away.
On stage the mask was back on. He had to be charming. Seductive. Too tempting to resist. That was how they caught their best prey. But he was scanning the crowd not for himself or his brothers, but for Star.
No more excuses. No more pushing it off. Star would feed tonight.
But then his eyes met a familiar pair of green ones. Too familiar considering he hadn’t known them for a week and he’s lived over 70 years. But you never forget the last thing you look into before being impaled by a dead animal carcass.
Michael.
He is real. Not just an invention as some sort of dream warning from his sire. Michael was here. His eyes on David’s brothers, Star, and then… David himself.
They locked eyes.
No. What David remembered, it wasn’t one of Max’s tricks. It wasn’t some unexplained warning from his Sire. It really happened.
Which led David to one conclusion. He was in fact dead. Dead dead. Not undead. Michael and Star… his two loves… neither of whom ever loved him back no matter how much he tried to give them… they murdered him. Murdered his brothers.
And this was his hell. Reliving that. Over and over again for the rest of eternity. Falling in love, just to watch them choose each other, betray him, and take away everything from him.
He didn’t disagree that he deserved it, with all the lives he’s taken. People he’s killed. But it was none the less fucked up.
He watched Star throw her purple scarf to Michael and Michael catch it. And David let his punishment play out with no further protest.