When I'm bored this is what you get.

Don't own Lost Boys, as you should know.

It's a known fact; humans die. All the time. Constantly. But Michael hoped and hoped…

Sam was supposed to stay young and bright and innocent his whole life, while Michael protected him from making the same mistake he did. Sam whined and moaned and complained, but now Michael wished he had caved.

Now the forever young Michael was sitting in the waiting room, waiting and waiting…

He could hear his brother's heart beat a few rooms away, while the nurses and doctors flitted around frantically trying to save his life.

He could smell Sam's blood, as it lingered on his own clothing. Michael wringed his hands nervously, listening and waiting.

Michael should have expected nothing else to happen to his little brother. Sam was only twenty-one, way too young for his life to end like this.

Car crash.

Sam hadn't even been drinking, but the other driver had.

Michael blocked out the quick talking and yelling in the emergency room, focusing on Sam's heart beat.

It was beating so fast, trying to keep Sam alive.

Michael could picture Sam when he was just a few years younger; always happy and full of life. But he still is, Michael reminded himself. He's still young. Too young.

Now Michael regretted not giving Sam his blood. If he had, his brother would be fine right now. None of this would be happening. No time to regret, though. What was done was done, and now all Michael could do was wait.

Sam was still practically the same he had been at fifteen. And he should have stayed that way…

Sam's heart beat at an alarmingly fast pace, and Michael held his breath. The yelling got louder. No one in the waiting room could hear it but Michael.

There was a woman sitting a few seats away from. And judging by her thoughts her husband was the drunk driver that caused the accident.

"Who are you waiting for?" she asked politely, trying to ease the silence and fight back her tears. Michael hesitated.

"My brother," he choked out, surprised by the impact those words had on him.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized, shaking her leg nervously and running a hand through her brown hair. "My husband, he…he never drinks. I don't know how this could have happened…"

"Yeah, me neither," Michael replies truthfully. From a room different from Sam's Michael hears a nurse walk out, coming to bring the woman new on her husband.

Michael pretends not to be listening, but he can't help but hear. "Oh—Oh thank you!" She repeats that and a tear rolls down her face, and she hugs the nurse.

He hopes for the same news on Sam, but his hearing tells him otherwise. Michael would be eighteen forever, and there was a high probability Sam would never be around long enough for Michael to change his mind and turn him. Michael would spend eternity alone.

The heart keeps beating, determined. "Clear," he hears the doctor say. They try again and again. "Shit!"

"Come on…" they're saying. Michael doesn't want to hear; he balls his hands into fists and covers his ears. That only partially works.

He hears the door open and the nurse walk out.

Michael already knows what she'll say.