I Can Save You

By: Pip Goodchild

Disclaimer: I do not own Lost Boys. I don't want to own them, but I want to own the Frog brothers. And Gora can own Sam, I suppose. Well, I suppose that means I don't own too much, does it?

A/N: OK everyone! My mum went on a Corey Feldman movie kick, and Lost Boys ended up being one of the movies I liked best! So, I had an interesting dream, and decided that it would make a rockin' fan fic! So, here I am, sick and bored, finally getting around to writing it! Here I go!

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I love life sometimes. It's funny, you know? How one person can have no friends, but she's the only one prepared. I'm the only one ready for when it happens. When they come back. I know they'll come back, I just do. And I'm the only kid that thinks that. I'm the only one who keeps a weapon in her boot. My dad keeps several around the house. So do my uncle's and my aunt. Everyone thinks we're crazy, but we know the truth. "Stupid Frog," they say to me, "Stupid Frog and your stupid family." But I just ignore them. They don't know nothing, and I hope they get bit first.

~*.*~

Chapter One: How Horrible Lives Get Worse

"Bo, that's the fourth time this week you've been caught with a weapon!"

"It's not a weapon, Principal Aretki."

"I believe that this is a weapon." Muttered the young, red headed woman in front of me, holding up a long piece of wood, "This could be used as a seriously dangerous tool!"

"But I wouldn't use it!" I yelled, my face burning red hot, "It's not a danger to anyone if I'm using it, it's only for emergencies!"

"And I suppose you think that there are vampires all around school?"

'Yes,' said my head, but "No," said my mouth.

"Then why would you have any use for a stake?"

"What if I told you it was for woodshop?"

"I wouldn't believe you."

"Well, that's because it's not true." I stuttered, giving in to Principal Arteki's evil glares "I won't do it again."

"Good girl," said Ms. Arteki, making me feel like a three-year-old. I could've killed her right then, and I should've killed her right then. I could've strangled her. I could've hid the body somewhere. Or, I could've staked her! No, that would be too bloody.

"Get back to class, Bo," said Ms. Arteki, "First period's almost over."

"All right," I said, looking straight into Ms. Arteki's evil, blue eyes, "But I'll have you know right now that Santa Carla was crawling with vampires before, and I don't see why I have reason not to believe that there are more!"

"There are no vampires, and there never were!" yelled Ms. Arteki, as I turned and ran out of the office, "Miss Frog, you get back here right now! Miss Frog!" I heard her yelling after me as I left. As if I was going to go back there. What was the point?

As I rounded the corner to my locker, I stopped and checked to make sure that my other stake was secure in my boot. It was always the one in my pack that got me in trouble. My American History teacher had already got used to the stakes, and never really cared if he found one in my pack. Everyone else, though, sent me to "Evil Arteki."

I went into my locker and took a swig of water from my bottle. "I wonder how big that pile of stakes in the office is." I said, looking at the ceiling. I didn't exactly want to go to woodshop. It was fun, but the teacher sucked. "I think I'll just ditch." I began to walk down the hallway, but thought again and decided to go back to class. I already had a bad record, why make it worse?

I was always blamed for everything, being the oddball, the daughter of the oddball. I am Bo Frog, daughter of Edgar Frog, and I am not a normal fifteen-year-old girl! People really need to get that trough their heads. It's a little obvious, I'd think, if you looked at my clothes. Pants under torn dresses, disheveled vests, sashes around my waist and head, boots, raggedy cloaks, most things torn. I suppose I am eighties gone wrong, rock/grunge/my own style mix. I am insane, and everyone knows it. But some people still don't understand that I am different, and they shouldn't punish or tease me for it. My short, dark blond hair is a good target for ridicule. It doesn't make me look like a boy, like they say it does, it makes me look like I'm a weirdo out of the eighties. Like Santa Carla used to be! It was full of weirdoes, rockers, stoners. OK, so there are still the stoners, but it's turning into an almost normal place. The girls dress trendy and prissy instead of grunge, like they did when my dad was this age. I don't think it'll ever go back that way, and I don't think anyone else will dress that way or the way I do, save the few still like me. My father is still a child inside, and he's helping me as much as he can to bring Santa Carla back to the way it was. Except the vampires, we could do without those.

~*.*~

After school I darted down to the boardwalk and over to the comic book store. My Uncle Allan was there, but my father wasn't. I walked over to the register and sat down in my squishy chair, removing the stake from my boot and putting it in the pile of them by my uncle's shoe.

"Bad day today, Bo?" asked Uncle Allan, noticing my sigh and my frown.

"Yeah. Got caught with a stake again."

"Maybe you should stop taking them to school, then." Said Uncle Allan, being a bit more grown up than my dad.

"No, I'm staying prepared," I muttered, changing the song on the rock CD and taking the framed copy of 'Vampires Everywhere' off of the wall. My Uncle Sammy had framed that comic and put it up in the store, which he helped run. There would still be vampires in Santa Carla without that book.

Uncle Sammy wasn't really my uncle, just a very good friend of my dad and Allan. He started helping run the shop, wanting to help get the vampire message out, and soon spent much more time with my immediate family. I didn't see Uncle Mike or Star as much, but I still considered them family.

"Bo," came a voice from above my head. I looked away from the comic to see Uncle Sammy standing above me.

"Oh, hello Uncle Sammy," I said, standing up and giving him a hug.

"Sam!" yelled my dad from outside the store, "Allan, Sam, get over here and help me with this! He was struggling with a large box of comic books. I giggled as my uncle's rushed out the door to help Dad.

"Well, well, well. Little bull frog helping with the family business."

"That's Bo, you moron," I muttered, closing my eyes and snorting in disgust at the sound of Bobbie Leonard's voice, "Get out of my store."

"Why?" retorted Robbie, the most popular boy in school.

"Nice come back," said Dad, passing with the box of books. Allan and Sam laughed as they walked by.

"Because you don't like comics, bozo." I giggled. I opened my eyes, hoping to see Robbie's disgusted and confused face, but instead saw a look of horror upon it.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I muttered, but he had already turned and ran full sprint down the boardwalk. I heard a loud, roaring laughter from behind me, and turned to see Dad, Uncle Sammy, and Uncle Allan all holding stakes and laughing maniacally.

"Good job, guys. Jocks deserve a scaring once and a while." I said, sitting back down in my chair.

"Oh, by the way, Bo," said my dad, "Your mom volunteered to decorate a table at the church calendar dinner, and she invited us both."

"But me and you don't go to church."

"I know, but she does and she volunteered. Her table is Easter, she wants you to help set up. It's tonight."

"All right, it won't be that bad, it's just the yearly dinner dance after all."

"Sorry, girl. She already signed you up to serve."

Great. An already bad day, and now I'd have to go serve smelly old people from Mom's church until ten o'clock at night. My life is just perfect, isn't it?

~*.*~

My mom and I went out to Big Lots that day and got a lot of Easter things. Luckily, it was the beginning of February, and all the cheap stores were full of Valentines and Easter crap. Some of it makes me sick. Pink bunnies and giant I Love You balloons. People are really insane, aren't they? Well, insane in a bad way, by my book. But after we got all the things for her table, we went to the church center. It wasn't the church, but the hall where all the events were held. I'd been there a few times with Mom.

"Alena!" said a woman, who looked about in her mid forties, "How are you today? Thanks for volunteering!"

"Hello Sharrie," said Mom, "I'm fine, how are you?"

"I'm good!" said Sharrie. She was too over enthusiastic and smiled way too much, "And who is this little girl?" Why did everyone seem to think I was three? I'm fifteen!

"This is my daughter, Bo," said Mom.

"Oh! You do know that she can't dress that way tonight, right?" said Sharrie, her smile faltering.

"Whatever you say, bitch…." I muttered under my breath.

"I know, Sharrie," said Mom, "I have a uniform for her."

"Dark pants, white shirt!" yelled Sharrie as Mom led me out the door. She took me back home, got the rest of the stuff for her table, and told me to wash up and get dressed. After she left, I ran into my dad's room, fell to the floor, and latched onto his leg.

"Dad, don't make me do it!" I yelled, closing my eyes and holding onto Dad for dear life, "Don't make me go, please!"

"Bo, what is wrong with you!?" yelled Dad, bending down and trying to pry me off of his ankle.

"There's an evil piss ass there and she's gonna work me like a dog, I can tell! Anyone who smiles that much is evil!"

"Bo, you're insane! Nothings going to happen!"

"But I don't even like Mom, I hate her!"

At this, Dad stopped. I could feel the familiar tears creeping into my eyes, and I loosened my grip on his leg. He bent down and ran his hand through my hair. I dove on top of him and hugged him with all of my might. I wasn't going to let go. I wasn't going to do anything to help my mom.

"Why does she still come see us, anyway!?" I yelled.

"Because her and I are friends. We're still friends, what do you have against her?"

"She left you, Dad. She left you for that rich hunk Charles and dumped me on you! She wouldn't marry you because of me!"

"Bo, I asked her to marry me before we knew she was pregnant. It's not your fault. I'm all right, anyway. I can live freer without being married."

"But she left me. 'Cause stupid Charles didn't want me! Why doesn't she go spend time with her 'perfect' children!?"

"You are the perfect child. She may not see it that way, but Ray and Rana are stuck up, spoiled twits. They're just like everyone else. That's how I see it."

"Do I still have to go?" I muttered, wiping my eyes and standing up.

"I already bought tickets from her for me, your uncle's, and Star. That's almost her full table, and the more people, the more money, the more the church buys."

"The more holy water to use," I said, starting to understand what Dad was saying, "All right, I'll do it. But for you, and only you."

I gave him a big hug and set off to get ready. I just hope she doesn't put me in anything stupid.

~*.*~

A yellow and white plaid frilly apron. She put me in a yellow and white plaid frilly apron! I can't believe this. Not only do I look normal and that ass hole Sharrie made me take the sash off of my forehead, but now I look completely stupid. Ray and Rana walked in through the doors in their perfect matching blue suit and dress, their perfect blond hair combed perfect, and their perfect faces smiling a perfect smirk. They laughed at the stupid apron I was wearing. I hate them. Twins suck. They think they're so much better than me, but one of these days I'm gonna beat them to a pulp! They're stupid thirteen-year-olds who weigh maybe ninety pounds, and I weigh one twenty, so maybe I should just sit on them and make it easier on myself.

"Why aren't Ray and Rana serving?" I asked Dad.

"Because they're stuck up brats and their father's an idiot."

I laughed as Charles walked in with my mother. His perfect blond hair was shining, his perfect smile glinting, and the suit that matched Ray's, Rana's, and mom's was perfectly pressed.

"He reminds me too much of Gilderoy Lockhart" I laughed.

"You're reading Harry Potter way too much, Bo." Said Dad. He noticed Uncle Sammy, Uncle Allan, Uncle Mike and Star walk in the door, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and sat down at the table. Charles tried to smile, but was having a hard time. He didn't really like my family. Well, screw him. I didn't like his.

"Bo! How are you, I haven't seen you in a while." Came a familiar voice from behind me. I turned around to see Jason, a tall man with black hair and a goatee. He helped at the church and wanted to be a priest. He was also one of those people who appreciated me for me and liked my contribution to the world.

"JASON!" I yelled, giving him a giant hug. He was one of the greatest people I'd ever met.

"You're serving tonight?"

"Yuperooneeodoodles!" ((A/N: I love that word!))

"All right then, come on back behind the kitchen, it's time for dinner."

"The church is feeding us?"

"Yeah," said Jason, leading me through the doors and back behind the kitchen where there were several boxes for us to sit on. After a few people came out, Jason and I figured that the line would be short enough to go inside and have some dinner. I hope it's something good.

Spaghetti. Ew, how disgusting. I hate spaghetti. I had a breadstick. Woo hoo, what a meal! Well, after my enormous three-course dinner, I went out and began to serve. "Gimme this," "Gimme that," is all I heard. I realize that I'm a waitress, but people are just so damn rude sometimes! I made it a point to stay clear of Ray and Rana, though it was hard, since that was the table I was supposed to be serving. But everyone else just wanted to bug me for stuff and not their waitresses, I suppose. I was doing OK of avoiding the brats, until Ray's friend, William, grabbed my arm and demanded that I got him some ice.

"Yes your majesty," I said facetiously, bowing and walking away. I noticed Charles get up and follow me. He put his hand on my shoulder as I went to open the freezer by the door.

"Come outside," he said.

"Why the bloody hell should I come with you?" I yelled, putting a giant slab of ice in William's cup.

"Pretty girl," muttered Charles, putting his hand under my chain, "You're coming outside with me."

He was really scaring me now. I wondered why no one noticed him doing this yet, but saw that William, Ray, and Rana were all looking and laughing. Charles stroked my cheek, which made me very upset. It was starting to seem like he was going to rape me. I must say, I am pretty, but I don't think so. I know everyone else does, but I really don't want to. I don't care about my looks. Uncle Sammy says I'm ravishing. Somehow I really trust his word, but still don't want to be pretty.

"No," I muttered, taking his hand off of my cheek, "Prince William needs his royal ice."

At that he took my shoulder and pushed me out the door. Oscar, who was taking tickets, was not at the desk, and Charles was free to push me around the corner to the right. Luckily, he didn't know that that was where the kitchen's back door was, and the window, fogged up from the oven and shrouded in the darkness, was barely visible. But I knew it was there, and I hoped someone would see him.

"Look, child!" he roared, pushing me up against the wall, "Next time you say anything like that about any of my family members, I will get you. I will beat you!" And then he hit me across the face. Not hard enough to leave a mark or make me bleed, but hard enough to hurt. He walked back around the corner and into the hall. I staggered in front of the window, noticed a shocked face through the glass, and a second later, Jason had run out and caught me before I fell to the ground.

"Bo!" he yelled, propping me up onto one of the boxes, "What happened?"

"N-nothing,"

"If you don't want me to tell anyone, I won't. But you have to tell me."

"All right," I mumbled, "Since you're my only friend, I'll tell you. My mom's husband hit me."

"Your step father?"

"No! He's only married to my mom! He's nothing to me! I live with my father, he's the greatest, and I don't need nor want another one!" I broke free of Jason's reassuring grip on my shoulder, ran bag inside, and began breaking ice into little tiny pieces for William. Jason, being a kind, caring, and knowing person, knew not to follow me, but to let me alone with my secret.

As I filled up the cup, a boy about my age, maybe a bit older, walked in and sat in the chair beside the fridge. "Which one, now?" he muttered to someone outside.

"That one!" came a loud voice from outside.

"Sh!" said the boy. I couldn't really see anything about his face, but he had read hair and British accent. "Which on?"

Someone from outside began to speak softly, and the only words I caught were "girl," "yellow," "the one," and "your first." These words were really strange, and I couldn't put them into a sentence. But then something dawned on me.

'Oh shit,' I thought, 'What if they're vampires?' At this thought, I rushed back to the table, gave William his ice, and ducked down under the table near my Dad. I took the stake out of my boot, and pulled Dad's face down.

"What is wrong with you?" he muttered.

"Those boys!" I said, "I think they're vampires!" I pointed to the fridge, but the boy was gone, and the boys outside had left also.

"There's no one there," said Dad.

"But there was!" I said, putting the stake back in my boot.

"All right," said Dad, "I believe you. Let's be on the look out, OK?"

"OK,"

"I'll tell your uncles and Star."

"OK," I said, standing back up, seeing everyone's eyes looking at me as if I was some demented alien, smiled, and scampered off to the kitchen. This was a very odd night, indeed. I don't think I'll ever go to church dinners again.

~*.*~

He knew what they wanted with her. He knew what they wanted him to do. They wanted him to kill her, and he knew why. It was for revenge. Revenge for their kind. They thought that if she was dead, it would make her family pay. Then they would see what it was like. But he didn't want to do it. Everyone else had killed someone, except him. He was scared. He didn't want to be what he was. He didn't want to kill anyone. Yet he wanted to please the others. He was feeling very miserable as the group made their way home, but he knew he had to do it. He had to go talk to her before he killed her. He had to make himself seem innocent, just like they told him to. And maybe he would do it. To be one of them, or out of fear, he did not know."

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A/N: MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!!!!!!!! I love evilness. I'm gonna make this one angsty! YEAH! I'M GONNA WRITE AN ANGSTY STORY! I'm really into weirdness, if you want weirdness, you can read my HP and LOTR stories, too. I would greatly appreciate it. Bibi!