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Fic: Lost Boys - 'Dust to Dust' - David/Michael - PG 
3rd-Dec-2010 12:19 pm
Title: Dust to Dust
Fandom: Lost Boys
Pairing: David/Michael
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1,056
Notes/Warnings: Unbeta'd. All comments, nitpicks & crit weclome
Disclaimer: Not mine. No profit, no foul.
Summary: The house is wrecked but they're all alive and the bad guys have been defeated. It's a fairytale ending. Isn't it?

Written for smallfandomfest 08: Michael & or / David, What do we do now?

There's so much mess, so much destruction, that it takes Michael a long time to realise that David's body isn't among the wreckage.

Nobody else, not even those freaky Frog brothers, seems to think much of it. They're all too busy celebrating. The house is wrecked but they're all alive and the bad guys have been defeated. It's a fairytale ending.

So why doesn't Michael feel as joyful as the rest of them clearly do? Why isn't he thrilled to be released from his bonds, to be back to normal?

Why is he so concerned about what happened to David?

Sam shrugs and punches his arm. 'He probably disintegrated. Vamps do that, you know,' he says, with the wise air of an experienced sage. 'Poof! Just... poof, and they're nothing but dust. Don't worry about it, Michael. He's gone, that's what matters. He's gone.'

And so is Sam, over whooping and hollering with those appalling Frogs, acting like he saved the world.

And that's unfair, Michael knows it is. They saved the family, and that's just as good. Saved them all from Max, from the vampires, from David. David is gone. His body impaled, his face so still, so incandescently beautiful, in repose. In death.

Gone. Disintegrated. Forgotten.

Michael slams his fist against the wall, ignoring the worried looks from Sam, his mother, Star. They don't understand, but that's okay. He's got used to it. The Frogs give him a look that's pure contempt and Grandpa... well, Grandpa gives him a look that he can't read. Or maybe doesn't want to.

Grandpa understands loss, but Michael's not ready to admit that's what happened to him. He was saved. He had the things that matter returned to him, not taken away. This is about his family, and Star. About being blessed, miraculously, with what he wanted.

Isn't it?

He stamps that question under the boot of his will and forces his hands to uncurl and relax. Of course it is. This is what he held on for, this is what he fought for.

Star spots him skulking by the door and rushes into his arms. Her smile is wide and inviting, her eyes bright. Her skin is warm to his touch. She leans into his chest. 'Michael,' she says, and there is a depth of contentment in that word that he's not sure he's ever heard before, from anyone.

When David said his name, it always sounded like a challenge.

He bends his head and surrenders to Star's kiss. There's no need to be afraid of David any more, no need to worry about him. No need to think about him at all. David is gone. Disintegrated. Dust.

Michael's stomach rolls and he pushes Star away from him just in time. Reddish-tinged vomit hits the floor in a steaming splatter. Michael heaves until it feels like there are no fluids left in his body then straightens, wiping his mouth. Embarrassment rocks him, but there's no scorn in any of the faces that turn to him. He did a good thing, here. He saved them. He was one of the good guys.

You can tell the good guys, because they're the ones still standing. The others are gone. Disintegrated. Dust.

Star puts her hand back on his arm but he shakes her off. Her skin feels clammy and unpleasant after the dry coolness of David's hands. He can still feel where they gripped, those hands, on his upper arms -- trying to force him onto those spines of horn. Trying to kill him. Such strength in those hands, in that body. He'd known, when he'd called David out to fight, that he couldn't win. It wasn't possible. David was too old, too smart, too strong. There could be only one outcome, and that was Michael's death. Death, true death, at David's hands. It was right. Fitting.

There's no dust underneath the place where David fell. Michael checks, very carefully, but the floor and surfaces nearby are undisturbed. A rainfall pattern of blood marks the spot, but that's all. No body. No marks. No dust.

His mother attacks it with a mop and for a second it's on his mind to object, but he doesn't. He just stands back and gets out of the way.

It won't be long before there's no sign that anything happened here. That anything happened at all. Grandpa's as good at household maintenance and repairs as his mother is at cleaning, and between them they'll erase all trace of incursion, of infiltration. Of vampire.

Michael runs a finger over his skin (warm) and the edges of his teeth (blunt). He can see his eyes reflected in Star's, and there's no freakish paleness to them. They're the same ordinary blue that they always were. He's human again. Normal. The threat, the thing that was going to irrevocably change what was left of his life -- change everything -- is gone.

(Disintegrated. Dust.)

It's over. They won. He won. He has his family, his life. He has Star.

He watches Sam singing and doing a goofy dance as he wipes bloody gunge from the kitchen tiles. His mother is also watching, nodding in time and beaming as she swipes her mop in ever-widening circles over the floor. Even Grandpa is smiling.

Nausea roils through his stomach again, while something that feels like claustrophobia claws viciously at his chest. 'I need some air,' he says to nobody in particular, and slips outside.

The night is cool, and some of the tension eases as the breeze swirls around his body. He leans against the side of the house and scans the surrounding area -- his vision no longer has that preturnatural sharpness in the dark, but he's pretty sure that there's no-one out there. No-one watching. Waiting. Wanting.

Kill the head vampire, and the others return to normal.

Return to normal. Become humans again. Ordinary humans.

An ordinary human body couldn't have survived the violence that had been done to David's. It just isn't possible. There's simply no way he could have lived.

So what, exactly, is Michael looking for out here?

He stomps that question under his boot too -- literally this time, grinding his heel into the ground. Into the dust.

Michael tugs the collar of his jacket up around his neck, and starts walking.
3rd-Dec-2010 01:42 pm (UTC)
Oh I really like this. I like the way you have captured the atmosphere after that final fight; the way the others would be celebrating but that Michael would actually be feeling loss and grieving in many respects. It's a great way of looking at it.

I think you've captured Michael well and the differences between the way David and Star talk, touch and relate to him is just brilliant; nice little touches.

If you write a follow on from this I would really like to read it.
3rd-Dec-2010 06:12 pm (UTC)
Squee, thank you! It always seemed to me that Michael had such a greater connection with David than Star, and for him the ending of the film is a pyrrhic victory at best.

And since I firmly believe David survived somehow, there could well be more to tell. You never know!

Thanks so much for reading! :-)
3rd-Dec-2010 02:38 pm (UTC) - Dust to Dust
I really like what you did with my prompt! You did a great job with the aftermath of that final fight and Micheal's feelings/thoughts.
3rd-Dec-2010 06:13 pm (UTC) - Re: Dust to Dust
Whee, thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked! *bounces*
3rd-Dec-2010 03:55 pm (UTC)
So sad that he realizes his loss too late.
3rd-Dec-2010 06:15 pm (UTC)
Isn't it! I always think the film has a tragic ending, not a happy one :-)

Thanks for reading!
3rd-Dec-2010 06:13 pm (UTC)
This is perfect for how Michael would be feeling in the aftermath. Despite not having been a vampire for long, he had a connection with David that the others, not even Star, could understand.
3rd-Dec-2010 06:19 pm (UTC)
Yes, exactly! I do think David loved his boys in his own way, but Michael was the one he'd been waiting for.

Thanks so much for reading!
5th-Dec-2010 12:35 am (UTC) - Peya Luna
Nice! i can all but see david hovering in the shadows, reading his thoughts and thinking. soon...and i like that michael rejects star for she doesn´t deserve a happy ending - she lied the whole time. i mean, seriously, if michael was supposed to be her first kill as she´d claimed, why would they give him the wine/blood? manipulative bitch...
7th-Dec-2010 09:02 pm (UTC) - Re: Peya Luna
Thank you! I'm so glad you liked :-)
6th-Dec-2010 11:08 pm (UTC)
Delightful. I always thought that movie ended pre-maturely; Michael never struck me as the sort to forget easily.
7th-Dec-2010 09:03 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much! I couldn't agree more -- there's no way it was going to be that simple for Michael to just get over it.

Thanks for reading!
27th-Dec-2010 09:53 am (UTC)
*sighs happily and devours fic* Gorgeous. I love Michael angsting and realizing what a mistake he's made. Very nice introspection. Would love to see this continue.

Also, your icon, it is mesmerizingly beautiful. <3 <3 <3 <3
28th-Dec-2010 03:08 pm (UTC)
Whee, thank you so much! I can never get enough of Michael realising how badly he Dun It Wrong, heh.

And glad you like the icon, although I can't really take credit for the beauty -- that's all Kiefer *g*
28th-Dec-2010 07:52 pm (UTC)
Because he SHOULD REALIZE, GODDAMMIT. (Really? A chick? Over DAVID???)

Pretty little thing, he is. <3
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