Yep...This took too long to whip up. And you guys know how sorry I am, right? Well, I am. I'm really, really, really sorry. :( Forgive me?

This is the last chapter, and it is long. Just a warning. :)

I'm in love with all of my reviewers-you are so awesome! And thank you, E.M. Morning and Shifter11, for being the most consistant reviewers. Love you! I just thought I should credit you for that. :D

But I love everyone else, too! I appreciate feedback so much.

Ah, this was so very fun to write! I'm kinda sad it's over. That challenge is still out there, by HikariAi, if you want to tackle it. ;D

I now wave you goodbye. Hugs and kisses to all! XD


Early October in Santa Carla caused the temperatures to drop from their usual hot status, leaving some people wearing sweaters not just to be fashionable. The attempted snow just ended up turning to rain—a very heavy rain, at that. The moon wasn't out, or it was hiding behind thick clouds, because without the streetlights the night would be nothing but black and shades of dark blue.

Just perfect to them. The weather was beautiful to Dwayne, who had chosen this night to just sit and watch the scenery. A canopy hung over the top of the RV of their latest victims, keeping the rain off them yet allowing every scent and feeling to fill their senses. A breeze blew past them, making Michael's skin rise as a tingling sensation crawled up to his jaw line. He didn't shiver, though.

They had seated themselves in the already-pulled-out folding chairs, cross-legged.

Water was running off the top of the RV and pooled up in the canopy, threatening to pull it down any minute. But it wouldn't, they were sure. Even if it did, it was just precipitation.

"Do you think Sam's doing okay?" Dwayne asked after the longest, most comfortable silence Michael had ever experienced. He thought about it, and a smile crept onto his face, lifting it.

"Yeah. I do." The happiness and love that filled him after that made his smile widen, thinking about his brother. The corners of his mouth sagged slightly after a minute. "Does it make me a terrible person," he began, causing Dwayne to look at him, "If I'd rather have Sam never see David again, than to just get along with him?" Michael felt very selfish because of this, and it bothered him that he just couldn't bring himself to get along with David. Because Sam deserved them both, and he wanted them to be in the same room together and not be at each other's throats. Michael would prefer if Sam just forgot about David so that he didn't have to try and do that.

Dwayne reached out for Michael's hand, grasping it firmly for reassurance. "You're not a terrible person, Michael." Mike looked down.

"I feel like one," he admitted solemnly. There was nothing Dwayne could say. Nothing that would make Michael feel better about himself at that moment. They both knew that, and the only thing that could be heard was the rain pelting the ground and the wind howling.

The wind blew in their direction again, and Michael could smell the rain and mud, the salt from the ocean, and the unmistakable fragrance of the man sitting next to him. For that very moment he forgot about his previous thoughts, his regrettable actions, and couldn't repress a smile.


"How's your back?" David asked Sam, lightly tracing patterns in his skin. The blanket pooled around their middles, and Sam hummed his response. Lying on his stomach, he turned his head to look at David, smiling.

"Just fine."

David couldn't help but ask. After all, he had scratched the shit out of Sam's back. The teenager yelled when he had done it, and as the blood spilled out of the wounds David was reminded how fragile and sensitive Sam really was.

Be gentle…

Sam had put complete trust in him then, and David still hurt him. David frowned, and Sam's content smile never faded.

"I'm fine. I scratched you, you just scratched me back," he said simply. He extended a hand to David's face, only for it to be caught and held.

"It wasn't like that, Sam." David sighed, and started rubbing Sam's hand with his own two. "You're so…" He looked for the right word. "…I can't even think of what to call it."

"Okay…should I take that as some kind of insult, or…?"

"No," David assured, shaking his head. "Absolutely not an insult." His lips twitched. "I could actually tear you apart without thinking once about what I was doing, I mean." He said it so casually that Sam blinked.

"Hm."

"Yeah…" David found it odd that Sam was still smiling. His mouth, too, turned upward, revealing his sharp, white teeth. He laughed. "It's a vampire thing. You'll get used to it."

"I don't know, David…My mind can only take in and hold so much," Sam teased. There was a glint in David's eyes suddenly, and the next thing Sam knew he was vamped out, teeth extended into sharp fangs, face contorted, and eyes golden and red.

"How much can your body take, Sam?" he asked—almost growling it. Sam's eyes widened and for a moment he was taken aback by the quick change of mood. Positions were turned and David had Sam pinned to the bed, bending down to kiss him. Sam, too eager to wait another second, lifted his head up to meet David's lips halfway.

The younger teen opened his mouth right away, allowing the other to shove his tongue in, tasting the sweetness of Sam.

Sam's hands caressed the smooth skin on David's back, pulling him closer while also squeezing his knees tightly around David's waist. Something stirred in between his legs, and he remembered they were both naked—not that that bothered him.

His pulled his own arms away and rested them on the mattress, arching his back with a small moan that was muffled against David's mouth. His wrists were held down by the older blonde, and, though he struggled against the grip at first, he relaxed into it, curling his fingers as his vision became fuzzy. He snapped back into reality once David moved onto his jaw, allowing Sam to breathe (though it was unneeded) and refocus.

David swiped his tongue over a sensitive spot on Sam's neck—the same place where he had bitten him numerous times—and, with a shuddering gasp, Sam thrust up, grinding their erections. David growled, loving the feeling that small movement had made, started grinding their hips in a slow, upward motion. Sam moaned softly, biting his lip and curling his hands (which were still being held down) into fists.

All too soon David stopped, and gazed into Sam's eyes before placing his mouth on the other's in a slow kiss. Sam hitched a leg up on David's waist, moaning from the intensity as David slipped inside him. David's fingers wound into Sam's at hearing his breathing pick up.

"Sam," he moaned, squeezing Sam's hand for a few seconds before letting go and traveling down to the younger teen's waist.

Now free of David's constricting grip, Sam brought his hands back to David's back. Just to make him move, he tightened the area that was around David's member as much as he could, grinning when the platinum blonde groaned into the crook of his neck.

"Mmm," Sam hummed, tightening again before David thrust forward. Sam grunted. "Yeah," he breathed.

Another thrust and David swore hotly. "Fucking," he mumbled.

Sam felt the muscles on David's back tense and he raked his fingernails down the smooth skin, drawing some blood in the process. The strong body hovering over him provided Sam with a sort of comfort, knowing he was protected, feeling safe with David. It just amplified how much he trusted him, how much he loved him—though he would never actually say that.

"You're so beautiful," he mumbled to David, and David's thoughts replied to the compliment.

So are you.

David started a steady pace, and soon had Sam wriggling underneath him—making small grunts and moans. "Fuckin' love your body," he growled against the younger teen's neck. "So hot."

He brushed past his sweet spot, and Sam let out a sharp gasp that led into a series of groans as David kept at that angle. He could feel his muscles clamping, involuntarily, and his mouth dropped into an 'o'.

His orgasm hit him without much warning, and for a minute Sam swooned, only coming around when he felt David empty inside of him with a loud grunt. Their movements stilled and they both panted—Sam a little more than David.

He wanted to just lie there, with David, with the sound of the rain pelting the roof, with everything left behind. That feeling didn't last long, as David made a comment about going way too easy on him. The platinum blonde grabbed a hold of his hips and began to make love to him again, since he had never left.

Outside the wind wasn't dying down, and a cold breeze made its way into the room. But the cool touch didn't chill Sam's skin—and he realized it never would again.


Apparently the weather wasn't going to get better any time soon. It rained all throughout the weekend, up to Halloween. The ground was wet, and puddles had formed everywhere there was a dip in the ground. The sky was dreary, and according to David this kind of weather wasn't too common in Santa Carla. Sam found it fascinating and refreshing; Phoenix hardly got rain, if any at all.

Halloween didn't make the town creepier, since everyone already looked scary. Rather it just meant that the innocents—the ones who were smart enough to stay inside at night—came out to celebrate.

Paul was excited—more so than usual—and that made Sam uneasy. The youngest wanted to dress up (most likely as a stereotypical vampire), but David had advised him not to. The Emerson kid didn't know exactly why, but he listened. Instead Sam watched other kids run around in their costumes, carrying buckets filled with candy, their scents wafting the air.

For a minute he doesn't understand why they are watching the kids in the first place. Maybe they wanted to steal their candy? He looks at all of their faces and doesn't see anything different, with the exception of Michael.

Sam swallows, trying to rid of the saliva that's building in his mouth.

This is wrong, he tells himself. So wrong…

The second time he swallows he understands.

David…

The leader doesn't physically acknowledge him at all.

I don't want to do this, David.

It bothered Sam that David acted like he didn't care if Sam didn't want to kill some kids. No, he was more than just bothered by it. He burned holes into the side of their leader's face, not reacting when Marko's cool fingers first rested on his shoulder.

He relaxed, just like David usually would when Sam touched him. Sam loved all of them, of course, but it really was a dead tie (when it came to brotherly love) between Marko and Michael. It was wonderful, really; Sam never had any friends outside of his family.

But Marko and Michael didn't exactly get along. In any way. Mike was always complaining to Marko about how sickening he smelled, how annoying he was, that he should cut his hair. (Hello, take a look in the mirror, Michael!) Marko was a patient person, and Michael's quick temper and insults didn't bother him in the slightest. But it still bothered Sam, who had to witness it and wasn't able to say anything.

Now David smirked, leading them to their bikes where Sam assumed they would then go and eat. A few children. He couldn't object; he was "one of them, now." (As Paul had reminded him time and time and time again.) Sam had to do as told, and that included playing "follow the leader" constantly. He didn't mind usually, but this…this he couldn't do.

He shook his head, refusing David's hand when he offered it. The hand lowered back down to his side, and for a second Sam could've sworn David looked disappointed in him. "Then don't eat tonight, Sammy," he said, his voice cold, and gave Sam a second chance to decide—right.

"No," he said defiantly, mocking David by cocking an eyebrow to match his facial expression.

"Your choice." He left, not so much as glancing back at an angry Sam, who was also almost run over by Paul in the process of leaving.

"Ooops!" Was all he got. A temper flare, not unlike the kind his brother experienced, shot through him, and his fingers stretched and curled back up into fists.

"Fucking sicko bastard…" He mumbled under his breath.


It wasn't until much later that they came back. No, Sam realized. Just Marko and Paul.

"Saaaam!" Paul hollered, sliding (and almost falling) down the slope into the cave.

"Sam!"

"What," he mumbled.

"Sam!"

"What?" He asked again, louder. Paul paused.

"Aw, man…Are you mad?"

What the—

"No, I'm not mad. Not at all. I've just been sitting here all night while you go around—" He couldn't even bring himself to finish the sentence.

"Okay. Well, there's a—"

The glare directed at Paul was so tremendous that even Sam was surprised he could create it.

"Around what?" Marko asked, a little too innocently for Sam in his mood, and the dozens of thoughts that built up in his head after they left let go.

How they could enjoy taking the fun and joy out of Halloween for those kids in a split second. How could drink their blood like it tasted as sweet as the candy they're carrying. How David could—

For a second Marko looked confused, and in an instant his mouth formed an "o" and his arms were held in front of him. "No! No way!" He looked at Paul and together they tried to hold back, but failed and started laughing.

"It's not funny!" Sam growled, turning red with embarrassment.

Marko stopped. "I'm sorry, Sammy, but…" He looked like he was going to grab his shoulders, but his arms just hovered around that area. "Look, I'm sick. That was just a joke, and you believed us!"

Sam rolled his eyes.

A joke.

"But I wouldn't do that. There's a little bonfire going on, and it's pretty boring without you. Or, David's bored without you." Marko smiled at him, and Sam had to fight back his own.

He weighed the idea. He looked up and back down a little. "Okay," he managed to drag out, leaning forward as he spoke the word. Paul grabbed him and threw an arm around both of their shoulders, squeezing so tightly Sam's eyes bulged.

"Family is so wonderful, isn't it?" Paul asked emotionally.


They kept him busy; that was certain. Sam couldn't remember the last time he had been bored for an extended amount of time. He had gone to concerts, mostly with Paul, had been to practically every building in Santa Carla, went to dozens of parties, killed in the heat-of-the-moment—basically had a good time. Just like they had promised. As David would tell him: "I don't disappoint." Sam grinned every time he heard that.

But really, the fun and games were just an illusion, to hide the world he was missing out on outside of their group. They were trying to make him forget about his mother, mostly. Sam hadn't even thought once about her until…

One day he saw her. Walking down the street, arms crossed over her chest to keep herself warm. Sam stayed back—way back.

He had expected to feel sad seeing her again. But it was all hurt. Right in his chest and throat, restricting, while he was frozen in place, staring.

And then she was gone, just like that. He swallowed hard, turning around to see Paul grinning ear to ear, fully knowing he probably just sent him over the edge. Oh, how Sammy hated mind tricks.

Much to Paul's dismay, Sam just passed him by, not saying a word.

He was crying a river on the inside.


Sam pretended to forget all about that night. It was probably for the best. Marko had found out about what Paul did, somehow, and made it a point that you just didn't do shit like that. But Sam shrugged off the apology that followed, saying it wasn't really a big deal.

"Whatever."

Later Marko and Sam had been by themselves again, relaxing on the bed, staring at nothing.

"Marko?" Sam asked meekly.

"Hm?"

Sam hesitated. "What was your family like? Your real family."

"This is my family, Sam."

"That's not what I mean." Sam rolled on his side to face Marko. "Your biological family. The ones you lived with before us."

He shrugged. "Honestly?" Sam waited and Marko turned on his side so he was face to face with him, his hands under his head. "They were like your folks. But married." He tentatively added, "And rich."

Sam blinked in curiosity. "Did you get along with them?" Marko nodded. Sam lowered his voice a little more. "Do you miss them?"

His eyes dropped slightly, them back to meet Sam's blue ones again. "I used to."

"Why don't you now?"

"Because I'm fine here. I don't need my parents to be happy and accepted." Sam gave a small nod. "Why? Do you miss your parents?"

"Yeah," he whispered.

"You don't have to. Max is slow but he's going to change her soon." Sam bit his lip.

"I hope he doesn't."


He always thought it would feel odd sleeping upside-down. Apparently, it didn't. It was a little tighter now with more of them, but it was even more comfortable than sleeping on a bed.

Just like it was natural. Like they were natural. And for a moment, that's how it seemed to Sam. That when Sam was human, he wasn't natural, and now he was.

Slowly that thought developed into the full, human was never me, they're humans, they're only food.

He couldn't grasp how that belief came to be in his head.

Maybe he picked it up from the others, just as he was about to fall asleep. That's also the way that he knows Paul fantasizes about him. Sam found it weird, but never said anything to him about it.

He has learned to block out thoughts, keep people out, and dig so deep into someone's mind he finds things they never even knew about themselves. It wasn't his favorite thing to do.

But it came in handy—especially since David had a tendency to not tell Sam important things. Which is why he never told David important things in return.

"David, let me on your bike," he begged, almost whining.

"No," David answered sternly. "Use Paul's."

"But his is different and messed up!" Sam complained. "I don't even know how to start it."

"Sam, you know why I can't let you." It was like talking to a child.

This happened a lot. Sam would try to get on David's bike and be rejected. Because the leader thought it would make him seem weaker if others saw him letting a pretty boy ride on his bike with him all the time. That they would point and yell, "Queer!"

"Yeah, but it's bull shit." Sam was so shocked when he first discovered the reason. Was David really worrying that other guys would call him names? That's weakness. "Come on..." he said, letting loose on the begging a little. "If they do, you'll either kick their ass or beat them with your vicious words."

"True," David agreed. "But I can't kick everyone's ass."

"Why not?" David paused. Damn, why did Sam have to be so witty and smart?

"Get on his bike," he said forcefully, causing Sam's head to drop back as he protested.

"Whatever. I'll just use up all of the gas, taking so long to get back." David rolled his eyes. "Maybe I'll even hit someone…And if I get hurt, it'll be all on you."

The platinum blonde looked around, checking, and then back to Sam. "Whatever," he hissed, tight-lipped. Sam beamed and took his place with him on the bike.


"Hey," Paul greeted, causing Marko to look over and see him walking in. Marko ceased searching, placing the item back on the shelf in the department store.

"I heard you were here." Paul looked around, the shelves high, with dimmed lights and few people. There was no returned smile, or even a grin—just a somber look. "How about you and I go back and put in a Rob Lowe movie or something? Get our sexy on?" He wagged his eyebrows. "No? Mel Gibson? Kevin Bacon?"

"I'm not feeling too 'sexy' lately," Marko said softly. "I think I'm farther along than I thought."

Paul looked dumbstruck. "You're joking."

"No…Just don't tell anyone, okay? You're the only one I've told." If Paul's hearing were like a human's, he'd have to strain his ears to hear what Marko was saying. "I just thought you should know."

"Damn…You mean I have to watch a hot movie by myself? But that's not even fun!"

"Maybe you could watch it with Sammy," he suggested. "He loves Rob Lowe."

Paul squinted his eyes in confusion.

"Yeah…But you love him, too." He sighed, craning his neck down, and Marko looked around briefly. "You don't feel sexy, but…" He laughed. "You look pretty damn sexy to me."

The corner of Marko's mouth twitched. Paul was leaning down and getting closer, their chests barely touching. Marko made an incoherent comment, followed by a rather impressive lip-lock.

There was a big gust of wind that went unnoticed, and Sam stopped dead in his tracks, stepping back a little to hide behind a corner. His heart skipped a beat at the sight.

Look away, he told himself. But no matter how hard he tried to do that…

It was such a personal moment, one that he was violating. Yet it was so interesting; he'd never seen them kiss before, and couldn't picture it ever happening in his head. Sam was even beginning to think there was no romance at all, and it was just friendship and emotionless sex.

But this wasn't emotionless, at all. In fact, the kiss was so passionate he wondered if that's what it looked like when he and David kissed. And he was ninety percent sure that wasn't so.


David had said before that he had a plan.

It was just uncertain what the "plan" was, exactly. Now Dwayne knew.

This is why I never doubt him.

Of course, Sam and Michael were hurt—very, very hurt—but after the pain washed away, it's going to be a great life.

But they didn't see his reasons. Michael was blinded by rage—Sam only by tears.

The oldest Emerson was cussing up a storm in his head, some vocalized, while his brother was in utter shock.

David repeated himself. "They're gone." He was cold about it, and Sam didn't know why. "And before you ask, no, I didn't do it."

The reality sunk in, settling down in the cold pit of Sam's heart. "I…" A freezing tear rolled down his cheek.

"You're lying," Michael stated, his anger directed towards David.

"No…They're dead, Michael. Do I have to show you?"

"I fucking know that," he hissed. "You had something to do with it. I know you did, David!"

Satisfaction. "Me? I didn't do anything," he said innocently.

"It happened during the day," Marko put in solemnly. "No one did it."

"How did it happen?" Sam asked tentatively.

No one answered.

Sam shook his head, still not accepting that his perfect world wasn't perfect anymore.

Lucy and Max were dead.

That bitch Star got her happy ending, after all.

Sam couldn't believe the thoughts he was having in the middle of this—all of them focused around one thing: revenge. He didn't want revenge; he wanted to cry it out like he normally would. Maybe break into a candy store to eat all the chocolate out of sorrow.

"How did it happen?" He asked again, more defiant with his words.

"You don't want to know that, Sam," David answered.

"Yes, I do!" He was breaking, having no clue why he didn't see this coming. He was blaming David. "Do any of you know?" He looked at all of them, who were in similar positions to when he had first experienced a vision in front of them—when they all stared.

Dwayne shook his head, looking down.

No one told Sam anything. Ever.

"I can't tell you."

"Yes you can," he shot back, getting angrier, backing away from the group.

You should've listened to me, Sammy. I warned you about David.

Voices haunted his mind—mostly ones that belonged to Lucy. Michael reached out to him and he shook away from the touch.

"Sammy," David called out.

Don't call me that.

He left then, needing to get away and think for a moment without being listened to. He wanted space.

He almost literally fell to the ground on his hands and knees, landing in the sand. Lying on his back, he stared up at the moonless sky, wondering how the hell his life ever got so complicated. He sighed, and realized this was the same spot he and David had visited occasionally; where they shared their second kiss and Sam experienced his first intimacy.

Sam began to cry silently.

He had no idea how Max or his mother died, but David would never let up about it.

There was a soprano-like laugh and a blur of blonde hair…

Just like that the vision was gone. Sam gasped, no longer familiar with the feeling of 'seeing,' and he tried to bring it back.

Beautiful blue eyes and skin so pale it was almost translucent. And perfect. Like porcelain. The young girl laughed and Sam's breathing stopped. She stopped her aimless twirling and looked Sam in the eyes, white teeth gleaming.

When it was over Sam wasn't even sure what he had just seen. Then, after giving it some thought…

He knew exactly who that was—Marko's beautiful daughter, of course. But that was so far into the future…and he couldn't see much of it. What he had seen, it was very enjoyable.

David was nowhere around, so Sam could actually do this after forever. Or at least as long as he liked.

It was raining cats and dogs outside, and Sam and Marko were huddled under a large umbrella. His curly-haired friend was fretting over his frizzing hair when the umbrella was snatched from Sam's grip.

"Hey!" He yelled at Paul, who took off running in the distance like a retard, yelling,

"Run, Forest, run!" Lightening crackled above them.

What he was noticing as they kept coming was that they were all very far into the future, and the next was always closer to the present. He knew this because they were becoming clearer and clearer.

"What are you doing?" Michael asked him, smiling curiously.

"I was just thinking."

"About what?" Sam wished he could feel more comfortable talking to his brother about these things.

"I think something bad is going to happen." Michael's smile loosened. "I had a dream."

"Okay…" The brunette sat down, folding his arms in front of him. "Then tell me about it. Tell me what I can't see."

He smiled; his tears had dried now.

Sam was walking along the beach, the night darker than usual, no light reflecting off the water. He looked out at the rolling waves, hearing a rustle behind him. He turned his head a little to see David step into sight. "Hey."

Sam sat up, deciding to take a walk now; he had a lot of thinking to was all so conflicting. And his relationship with David sometimes seemed like it was bipolar.

But David was just temperamental. And Sam understood that.

David had been the first person to accept Sam—along with the others. And he loved David so much…

It wasn't fair. After all, love wasn't always a pleasant feeling. Sam sighed, fingering through his hair. He wasn't contemplating if he should go back to David—he knew that he would eventually. He was just thinking about reasons why he should.

Déjà vu.

He knew what was coming next, and he would have to be done thinking it over. The future looked great—amazing, even. There was no way he could turn that down. But…

He looked out at the rolling waves, hearing a rustle behind him. This time he didn't turn his head, knowing that David was there. "Hey."