Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Scott has always been a fickle creature, and vain to boot. Of course, he makes up for that with his cunning and plotting, but that doesn’t change the fact that how he feels about people is very dependent on his mood on any given day and how amusing he finds them.

That being said, he actually quite likes Avid. The man is a bit annoying, but not really a threat, considering that with his hysterics, he is actively making people less suspicious of Scott.

Scott, with his death pale skin and blueish lips, his sharp teeth and somewhat pointy ears.

It really is a wonder what humans will excuse when they don’t want to believe something.

Aside from his unintentional aid in furthering Scott’s nefarious plans, the man is also extraordinarily amusing to mess with.

The town square is a dreary little area, surrounded by houses in a vague circle and a small cobble well in the middle. In the greyish light, so customary to Oakhurst, the area looks even more depressing than it actually is.

Scott particularly hates the dirt paths. They used to be stone when he was still governing the place, and he has no idea who decided to change that, but he very much hopes they had an unpleasant death.

Regardless of his personal opinion on the place, he finds himself approaching the resident detective as she’s fetching water for some purpose or another, though, likely not the one Scott would prefer.

Stars know these people don’t bathe enough.

“Hey Drift, do you and Avid have any leftover wool?” He asks as he passes by her.

“Umm, none on me, but we should have some at home.” She says after checking her inventory.

Scott hums.

“Would you mind if I let myself in and take some? I’ll pay you back when I find some myself.”

“Sure thing! You don’t need to pay us back though, it’s just wool.”

Scott tries his hardest to keep the smirk off his face, then he remembers the skull covering his features, and lets it take over.

“Thank you, Drift.”

Scott did actually need the wool, so he heads over and does, indeed, let himself in.

Never having been inside Avid and Drift’s house before, he takes a moment to look around.

It’s quaint, and lacking somewhat in natural light, but surprisingly homey. Evidently, Avid and Drift have made the place their own, and have settled in nicely.

The ceiling was just tall enough that he didn’t have to duck his head. For the best, as Scott wasn’t the type to lower his gaze in any circumstance.

Finding their storage area, he starts looking through the chests, which thankfully aren’t many.

“Drift? You in there?”

Scott’s eyes snap to the entrance. He’d heard the footsteps but hadn’t realised they were headed for the house.

“Could you help me with the door, my hands are kind of full.”

A smile twitches on his lips as he stashes away the wool he found and heads for the door, opening it while trying to stay somewhat hidden.

“Thanks, I just found so much-“ Avid cuts off the rest of his sentence as his eyes land on Scott, and his face contorts with horror.

Scott drinks in the sight of him, violet eyes widened, mouth agape, and skin paler than usual, which was saying something. Avid, after all, was almost as deathly in pallor as Scott.

“Scott!” His voice cracks with fear. “How- no! Wha- why are you here?!”

“Hey Avid,” Scott can’t quite stop himself from nigh purring the mans name, thankfully it only comes out sounding smug and teasing instead of malicious and unnatural. “I’m just borrowing some wool. Hope you don’t mind, but Drift said you guys wouldn’t miss it.”

The man’s voice is small and choked when he speaks next. “Drift let you in?”

Scott tilts his head, “Yeah, I ran into her in the town square and figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.”

After a moment of deafening silence from Avid, Scott speaks again. “I’ll be going now, unless you need more help with what all you’re carrying?” He gestures to the stack of silver in the other’s arms, which Avid hugs closer, likely subconsciously.

As if it could protect him.

“N- no I’m all good, no need to stick around!” The man squeaks.

“Well alright, let me know if there’s anything you need, Drift said I don’t need to pay you back for the wool, but I’m still taking your resources, so it’s only fair.” He waves, “Bye Avid.” This time he pushes the hint of a purr into speaking the other man’s name on purpose, almost sing-song like.

He pretends he doesn’t hear the thud from inside after he closes the door behind himself.

Scott had never intended for the shack he shared with Shelby to become his home, that privilege belonged to his castle. The only reason he hadn’t gone to live there immediately was because it was a tad… worse for wear. As the days sped by though, Scott found himself rather fond of the little, and it genuinely is very small, practically nonexistent compared to what he’s used to, house. He’d failed in not letting it become his home, for right under his nose, it had.

Oh sure, he still missed his castle with it’s grand hallways he could stalk through in the dead of night, nothing more than a shadow speeding past a window. He missed the way his steps echoed though the spacious chambers, confident and rhythmic like the foreboding ticking of a clock. He missed the towering stairways, the plush carpets, the silks and satins.

All the soft and wonderful things that made the place as comfortable as possible for him and his coven. Some might say they weren’t many, so surely they didn’t need all that space, but Eloise had long ago commandeered an entire wing and dedicated it as her workshop.

Lauren had taken charge of the kitchen and dining areas, the strange girl enjoying cooking despite being unable to taste any of it herself.

Scott had ended up having to host so many dinner part just so they wouldn’t constantly have food wasting away in the house. What was left over, Lauren sent out to the townspeople. Seeing now what the people down here eat on the daily, Scott is beginning to understand why she was the favourite.

And Cleo…

Scott doesn’t want to think about Cleo right now. He chases away the longing and loneliness with a stern, if unnecessary, breath.

Point being, the coven took up a fair bit of space.

He finds himself reeling at how little of the space he used to think necessary he now needs with Shelby by his side.

They’re a real marvel.

Scott is still not wholly sure why they invited him to room with her, but he’s very glad she did, as he’s note sure he’d be able to tolerate the constant company of anyone else.

Sure, Shelby is a bit odd, but his sisters hadn’t been all that much better, and Shelby…

Cares for him.

So indeed. The somewhat lopsided, big foreheaded house is his home. One of two, but one of them regardless.

And it’s absolutely Shelby’s fault.

“You’re back!” She turns to look at him as he enters.

They finish stitching up the pillow covering they’d been working on when he left earlier, Scott is actually a bit impressed at how fast she’s managed to do it, and after putting it down on the bed, she skips over to him.

“Did you find any sheep?”

Scott shakes his head. “No, but I got some wool from Drift and Avid.”

“Oh perfect!” They clap their hand in excitement. “Come on, I’ll teach you how.”

She tugs at his wrist, and ushers him over to the bed, where she places a needle in his hand. Scott goes along, not because he has to, but because he’s become very bad at saying no to them. It’s odd. He’s never had such a problem before.

“I know you’re used to others doing this for you, but as you can tell from our current predicament, that might not always be an option, so it’d be best to know how.” She chuckles before adding, “besides, I’m sure that even despite your aversion to manual labour, you’d prefer some effort to being in tattered clothes.”

Scott fees his face sour against his will, and despite the skull covering his face, he knows they’ve clocked it immediately by the smug little smile on her face.

“Nothing to be done about it, I’m afraid, you are correct.” He sighs.

She bumps their shoulders together with a laugh. “No need to be afraid! It’s easy, I promise.”

They somehow manage to start prattling on about werewolves again, but for once, Scott isn’t listening to her despite his better judgment.

He hadn’t noticed that they were close enough to do something like casually bump their shoulder against his. It makes sense he supposes. The bed they are sitting on is comically small compared to the, mostly decorative ones he’s used to.

But Scott doesn’t remember the last time he’d let someone so close to him. Let alone a human.

“I hadn’t been planning on staying here so long, but since we’re stuck here now, we have to prepare for winter. Besides, I’m sure finding werewolves will be easier when the snow comes down, so it’s not all bad. And you’re here too! So I’m not as upset as I could be about being trapped.”

Perhaps it’s not a bad thing though.

The needle in his hand feels heavy, and though he knows it’s iron, not silver, it still seems to burn as such.

“This part might take a few tries, but just keep at it, and you’ll have the needle threaded in no time!”

He scoffs and pushes the thread through the eye of the needle in one go, aided by his vampiric precision, true, but first try nevertheless.

“Woah! Nice going! Give me a moment, I’ll get mine in a moment.” They grin wryly.

Several more attempts on her part and Scott is ready to just take it from her and do it himself.

“Ow!”

Scott freezes as he watches her plop her middle finger in her mouth.

“I was holding it too hard.” They sigh.

He stands up and quickly fetches the bag they’d arrived with, looking though it with efficiency that some might deem suspicious, but Scott can’t find himself to care about that in the moment.

Finally finding a bandaid, the same kind as what she still has on her knee, he gently peels it from the protective paper.

He’s not sure when paper became so commonplace that it’s now used for everything, but it hardly matters.

He pries her finger from her mouth, more gently than he thought himself capable, but they’re only human, and they’re fragile, so he tries his best.

“Honestly Shelby, do you know how unhygienic that is?” He scolds.

She huffs indignantly. “I’ll have you know, saliva has been found to have mild pain numbing qualities. It’s why a child’s first instinct when they hurt their finger or something is to put it in their mouth.” She wriggles her own fingers, including the hurt one in demonstration.

“Though I don’t disagree, I’m amazed how quick you are to compare yourself to a child. And keep that still, I’m trying to help you here.” He catches her hand again.

They roll their eyes, which, rude. “It’s just a little prick, I’m not sure it even really broke skin.”

She’s right, the skin is slightly red and irritated, but not broken. Scott wraps the bandaid around the digit regardless.

“Now give me your needle, I’ll just thread it for you.”

“Yeah yeah, just let me find where I dropped it.”

They feel around the bed for a bit, and Scott thinks if he still had such a function, his blood pressure would be through the roof.

His castle’s roof, to be precise.

“Darn, where did it go?” Shelby goes to stand, but Scott stops her.

“Not in a million years Shel. you’re only wearing your socks right now, what if you dropped it on the ground and you step on it? I’ll just find it myself.”

“Just get me my shoes, it’ll be faster if we both look.”

“Are you certain?” He asks, holding up the needle.

Shelby blinks a few times in rapid succession. Then she bursts out laughing.

“If you had a superpower, it’d be showing people up.” She cackles, clutching at her stomach.

“Avid would argue that I’m just a vampire.” Scott idly remarks as he sits back on the bed and easily threads Shelby’s needle for her, and hands it over.

Shelby’s expression when she accepts the offering is full of mirth. “Avid is too narrow minded.”

Scott rolls his eyes. “Perhaps so.” He agrees regardless.

“So basically, you really only need to make sure the stitches are even, so when you flip the fabric around the right way again they pretty much won’t show at all.”

“I think you skipped a few steps.”

“I’ll teach you to knit next.”

—

It doesn’t take long for Drift to seek him out, as already the next morning she knocks on his and Shelby’s door.

“Whazzat?” Shelby slurs, still drowsy with sleep.

“Go back to sleep Shel, I’ll get it.” Says Scott from where he’d been tending the hearth, which is two steps away from where they are, and one step away from the front door.

The cabin is so so tiny.

“Hello Drift, how can I help you?” He asks pleasantly as the now open door reveals her pinched face. “I’d invite you in, but Shelby is still sleeping and our quarters isn’t all that spacious. We haven’t built a greeting area yet.”

“Hi Scott.” She greets and visibly hesitates to continue.

“I have a lot I want to talk to you about, but I should apologise first of all.” She fidgets with her sleeves.

“Apologise? What for?” Scott tilts his head in question.

She hangs her head, but he catches a glimpse of shame on her face. “When I got home… I found Avid collapsed on the floor, and all I could think was that I gave you permission to enter our house, when he’d specifically warned me to never let anyone inside. Scott, I thought you’d killed him and I’m so sorry.”

“Wait, wind that back a little. Collapsed? Is he alright? Did you get him to the doctor?” Scott feigns surprise. Quite convincingly too, if you asked him.

“No no! He’s alright- well, not alright exactly, he had a panic attack, but he’s not hurt, is what I’m trying to say.” She assures him.

Scott nods. “Well, that’s good. I mean- not good, but…” he trails off and they share a sheepish smile. “I’m glad he’s unharmed, but Drift, I still don’t understand why you’re apologising, you were just worried and emotional, I understand completely.” He tries for comfort.

She shakes her head fervently. “No Scott, I’m a detective, It’s my job to judge things objectively, and I failed you in that regard. I was so angry, if I hadn’t noticed that Avid was still breathing, I probably would’ve stormed over here last night and tried to kill you.”

“Drift…”

They stand in silence for a moment before Scott sighs. “Drift.” He says more confidently. “You’re allowed to be a human when you’re off duty, you know that, right?” He leans against the doorframe casually. “And you’re more than allowed to care about the person you share everything with, the person who is most familiar to you in a town full of strangers.”

Drift looks up at him again.

“I may find Avid annoying when he’s accusing me of things when they either haven’t even happened or he has no proof to blame me, but that doesn’t mean I wish him harm or am unable to comprehend how someone could care about him.” He says, like a liar.

“…thank you, Scott. You’re a good person, even if you’re a bit stuck up.” She smiles cheekily at the last bit.

“Stuck up!?” He gasps, “I’m not stuck up, you all are just incomprehensible with your manual labor and mud paths and low quality clothes, and frankly, I still don’t understand how I ended up a member of this depressing town!”

She’s laughing in earnest now, but trails off after a moment looking a bit somber again.

“Please don’t come in our house again. And, i know this is a lot to ask, but if at all possible, please don’t come near the house either.”

Scott nods easily, “I can’t promise I won’t ever end up near your house, but at the very least I’ll try and not end up there if it’s just me alone, although… I doubt it’ll put Avid entirely at ease, even if I moved out of town.”

“From what little I know of vampires, legend states that they are unable to enter a home if they’ve not been invited in.“

Scott crosses his arms, “I had hoped Avid wouldn’t have to know I’d been in the house, but then he returned while I was there. I tried to play it cool, but I suppose it didn’t work…” He trails off, giving himself a moment to choose his next words.

“To Avid, I imagine your house was a safe haven, and that’s been ruined. Even if I never go in again, Avid will be constantly aware of the fact that I can go in, and all that’s holding me back is myself.”

Drift furrows her brow. “But it’s not like you couldn’t get in before.”

“That’s not how Avid sees it.” Scott corrects gently. “One of the maids at my manor had a daughter, who suffered from delusions.” He opens the line of dialogue with caution. Drift’s eyes snap to his in a flash, but she doesn’t comment on his hinting at Avid’s mental state.

“Delusions are difficult in that, they’re not just hallucinations. When someone hallucinates, you can find a way to let them know that it’s not real, and calm them down, but it doesn’t work like that with delusions. The person’s brain forces them to believe something, whether they want to or not, and while I won’t ever let Avid accuse me of murder and just get away with it, I won’t try and convince him that vampires aren’t real, because to him, they are.”

“What concerns me is that other people are beginning to take his delusions seriously. It’s strange, what being stranded in the middle of nowhere with only a small community can do to people.”

Drift just looks sad now, which isn’t what Scott was trying to achieve.

“So, you’re saying I can’t help him.” She sounds wrecked by the mere notion that Avid might be a lost cause.

“No, that’s not what I said.”

She perks up a little, and looks at him hopefully.

“You need to make him feel safe, and what’s more, you need to make sure he knows you’re safe.”

“Me? Why wouldn’t I be safe?” She asks.

“Wrong question. Try, why would Avid believe you’re not safe?” Scott scolds, but not unkindly. “Does he know you came to talk to me?”

“Yes of course.” She answers without hesitation. “I told him before I came.”

“And how long ago was that?”

She thinks a moment, “About half an hour.”

“And does Avid believe I’m safe to be around?”

“…oh”

“Yes, oh.” Scott echoes. “Despite his questionable grip on reality, he cares about you, and wants to protect you from what he perceives to be a threat, and here you are.”

She worries her lip, “I need to go back! Gods, I hope he didn’t leave the house to look for me, he still seemed shaken this morning.”

“Calm down Drift, if you go to him looking scared it’s going to make it worse. Here’s what you’ll do, listen carefully. You’re going to go home as fast as you can without running, announce that it’s you the moment you open the door, and when you tell him how your talk with me went, try to mention that Shelby was present and not dead to the world.”

She snorts at that.

“Got it, thank you Scott, truly.” She says as she starts speed-walking back towards Avid’s and her house.

“No problem, be careful with him, yeah?” He calls after him.

Turning back he winces as he walks over the block of silver Shelby placed at the front door of their house.

He needs to make a backdoor, and preferably soon.

“Who was it?” Shelby asks sleepily from where she’s tying the bow around her neck.

“Just Drift, it was nothing serious, don’t worry.” He reassures and hands her a plate with baked potatoes piled high.

“That’s good.” She says before nibbling on the potatoes. “Aren’t you going to eat too?”

Scott shakes his head. “No, I already ate, and quite frankly, the peasant food doesn’t agree with my stomach, so I reckon I’ll only eat as much as I absolutely need.”

Shelby rolls her eyes playfully, a fond smirk playing on her lips.

Shelby’s food situation was the best among all the villagers, because while Scott would occasionally take the raw meat when he couldn’t find an excuse to go hunting, he left the cooked stuff and vegetables untouched.

The rest of the village didn’t know this of course, and still provided them with food enough for two.

Overall they were both doing quite well for themselves.

—

Five days from when Scott gained access to Avid and Drift’s abode, Avid wasn’t doing too well. Drift seemed to be trying her best, but Avid clearly hadn’t been sleeping enough.

Scott imagines the man is likely guarding the door when his partner is asleep, and Drift, while she’s gained enough sense to not be alone with the people who freak Avid out, and invite him along when she goes out, doesn’t seem to know what to do about this particular problem.

Scott could, of course, suggest that she offer to keep watch while Avid sleeps, but he’s already got himself in her good graces with the previous advice he’d given, and having Avid slow and weak from lack of sleep is only beneficial to him.

At least that had been his plan, but when the town decides to go on another exploration trip, he somehow ends up partnered with Avid.

“No! Nononono, guys, please! Please no.” Avid tries to reason with the others.

“Avid, honestly, you really need to get over this grudge you have against Scott.” Pyro scolds, and Scott notices his fledgling hiding a malicious grin. If the vampire had a tail, Scott imagines it would be wagging as he looks at Scott with big eyes, as though expecting praise.

Scott, obviously, can’t openly react, but offers the childe a slow blink.

“Guys, it’s okay, I can just pair with Avid, and Scott can be with Martyn.” Drift tries to defend Avid, and the man looks to his partner with hopeful eyes. Considering how tired he must be, it’s impressive how well he’s keeping his panic edged breaths under control.

“No.” Martyn surprises Scott by speaking up. “Pyro is right, it needs to stop. We can’t have the town divided. There are monsters here, while not vampires,” he looks seconds away from rolling his eyes as he says that, “the zombies and skeletons are coming in bigger and bigger hordes, so much so that it’s too much of a risk to try and move back out, even if the town allowed us. Avid needs to understand that whether he likes it or not, Scott is one of us, and he brings value to this town just like the rest of us.”

Scott can’t help but stare at Martyn in bafflement. He hadn’t been aware that the young noble felt that way about him. In fact, Scott had been unsure if Martyn even knew his name.

Owen is the next to speak up, though in a much calmer voice, “I agree. Scott may have some unsavoury opinions on the common folk, but that hardly makes him a monster, and he’s been a great help to me at every turn.”

“Give him a chance Avid, please?” Shelby asks the man gently. “He’s actually quite a sweetheart. I mean, I’m pretty sure he’s a faerie, but not all fae are mean.”

“Please, please don’t leave me with him. He’ll kill me!” Avid is nearing hysterics, and Scott thinks the man might start crying soon.

“Drift, please, please!”

“Oh Avid.” The detective looks heartbroken.

“Come on Drift, don’t make me walk into these woods alone.” Martyn calls from where he’s, in fact, walking into the woods alone.

“Martyn wait! It’s not safe on your own!” Drift yells after him.

“Then come with me!” Martyn looks proper ticked off for the moment that he turns around to look at the detective, before he continues walking.

“Fuck.” Drift curses under her breath, shooting Avid another heartbroken look and a pleading one at Scott, then immediately takes off after her buddy for the next two days. “Martyn! Come back here, you jerk!”

It would appear Drift has gone and made Avid into Scott’s problem.

“Drift!” Avid’s voice cracks properly, and his control over his breaths begins to slip.

Scott places a hand on the man’s shoulder and the other flinches away from him so violently that he topples over.

While he’s trying to scramble back up the rest of the townspeople begin leaving as well.

“Wait! Don’t go! Please! Don’t you understand you’re leaving me to die?! Shelby! Owen! Anyone!”

His cries are in vain though.

Scott is unsure what has driven the whole town to decide it’s for the best to just leave Avid to be Scott’s to deal with as he’s panicking, but truth be told, he’s not as upset about it as he could be.

It’s true, Scott likes Avid. He’s so very amusing when he’s like this.

“Don’t come near me!” The man screams, brandishing a silver pickaxe.

“Sorry Avid, but that’s kind of my job as your buddy for this expedition.”

He takes pleasure in the way Avid shudders when Scott says his name. The man likely doesn’t even notice the slight purr Scott has begun adding to it every time he says it, but his subconscious probably recognises something about it as being off.

Avid’s breaths are coming in even shorter now, hyperventilating.

“You need to calm your breaths or you’ll pass out Avid, and I’m sure you’d hate to pass out anywhere near me while we’re alone.”

He’s not quite sure if saying that helped or made it worse, but Avid is looking at him properly now, eyes locked with Scott’s. His breaths aren’t slowing down though.

“I- I can’t!” He gasps. “I can’t! You’re a vampire and I’m alone w-“ he wheezed “with you, and I’m gonna pass out!”

He makes a few more choked noises, “oh gods, oh gods- I can’t- I don’t wa- I don’t want to pass out!”

“Then breathe.” Scott demands.

“I’m trying!” Avid screeches, though he can’t quite manage his usual volume.

Scott rolls his eyes and in two quick steps is right in front of Avid, who is shaking uncontrollably.

“No! Sta- stay away!” He tries to look intimidating, but to Scott, it’s rather a pathetic look.

“No can do, if you can’t calm down you’ll pass out, and I’m not letting you crack your skull open when you fall.” Scott drawls, and pulls Avid to his chest.

The man tries to struggle, but not only is Scott unimaginably stronger than him, but also, Avid is far from his best at the moment; sleep deprived and panicking.

Scott lowers them both down to be sitting on the ground, and though he grimaces at the dirt, he really would rather not deal with what would happen if Avid got hurt under his watch.

“Try and match my breathing.” Scott says, and forces his chest to rise and fall.

His dormant lungs protest, but just about allow the air to pass through.

They stay like that for a while, Avid gasping for breath, Scott suffering through the act of breathing, and Avid pressed against Scotts chest, with his hands restrained so he doesn’t get any ideas.

“There you go, still conscious?” Scott asks, and Avid grumbles something into Scott’s neck, where his head had fallen when the last of his strength left him. Scott finds it hilariously ironic.

“Why haven’t you been sleeping?” Scott asks, knowing full well why Avid hasn’t been sleeping.

“How do you know I haven’t been sleeping?” Avid snaps.

“Have you looked at yourself? Drift is worried about you.”

Avid tenses, “you’ve been talking to Drift?”

“Yes Avid, we live in the same, disgustingly small town, sometimes we share some words.” Scott rolls his eyes.

“I don’t want you talking to Drift.” Avid spits.

“And I don’t want you talking to Shelby, but she’s her own person, and has full freedom to talk to whoever the hell they want.” Scott snipes back.

Scott feels Avid bristle against him. “That’s different! I’m trying to protect them both from you!”

“Shelby’s my housemate, I’ve had every opportunity to hurt them and I haven’t. She is to me what Drift is to you.”

“You’re lying. Vampires are known for being charming, but you can’t fool me.”

Scott sighs and finally lets go of Avid, standing up and brushing the dirt from his clothes, wrinkling his nose slightly at the state of himself. “You didn’t get any snot on my coat, did you?”

Avid only looks up at him dumbly.

Scott raises a brow.

“Wha-“

“Now that you’ve calmed down some, should we actually do what we came out here to do and go explore, or would you rather we return to town?” Scott gives him the option.

“I- wh- We…” Avid takes a moment to collect himself. “Let’s… explore.”

“Very well.” Scott agrees, “which way should we go? I believe Drift and Martyn were headed towards the castle ruins, Pyro and Owen seemed to be going for the Dead Woods, and I think Cleo and Renhardt were headed in a similar direction. Can’t say I remember the others.”

“Shelby and Sausage went that way.” Avid mumbles pointing out the direction of the crypt.

Scott swats at the hand. “Don’t point, it’s rude.”

Avid quickly pulls his hand back and cradles it to his chest, looking at Scott with large eyes.

“Would it be preferable if I walk in front, and you follow?” Scott offers.

Slowly, Avid nods. “Okay.”

“Any objections to seeing what’s to the left of the castle ruins?”

Avid shakes his head.

“Then let’s go.” He says and begins walking, listening to ensure that Avid is following.

“How are your footsteps so quiet? I can’t even hear it when you step on a twig or dried leaves.” Avid mumbles.

“You’ll have to speak up if you expect me to answer.” Scott, of course had heard the question perfectly clearly, but the frustrated sound Avid makes before repeating his question amused him.

“I suppose you wouldn’t know,” Scott starts, “but in high society, making unnecessary ruckus is considered very rude. All highborn children are required to learn how to move and do things silently and with a proper posture.”

Avid hums. “Right.”

“Do you see that?” Scott asks.

“See what? It’s too dark to see anything.” Avid says, and Scott hears that familiar suspicion creeping back into his voice.

If Scott had doubted for a moment that the man was recovering from his episode, it was gone now.

“Yes, but I believe I see a light past the trees there. Could be another tomb. Either way, let’s make haste dear alchemist, the sun will start setting soon, and I don’t want to be out in the open when the monsters start appearing.”

—

They just about make it to the tomb before the monsters start popping up and are both quick to make their way inside as an arrow barely misses hitting Avid.

Opening the chest reveals a tome granting five minutes of immunity to thralls. “Pity, I already have this one.” Scott lies through his teeth.

“What is it?” Avid asks.

Scott tosses the book to him with little care. “Read for yourself.”

Avid perks up as he understands what the book says. “That’s a good one to have!” He’s quick to absorb its power. “I can’t believe people think I’m crazy when there’s all these tomes lying around, specifically made to combat vampires!”

“I can’t believe you think making crops grow ever so slightly faster combats vampires.” Scott muses absentmindedly. “Besides, they’re all either so short lasting, or come with an unbelievable handicap, I don’t see them helping all that much.”

“The crop growing one is an outlier!” Avid is quick to protest. “And besides, I’m sure they’ll come in handy some way or another. You never know.” He grumbles the last part.

“I’m not going to argue with you right now. You’re exhausted Avid, and we still have a long way to go if we don’t want to seem like we’re slacking while everyone else is trying hard to find new things.” Scott dismisses the topic, and beckons Avid to one of the stone benches lining the walls.

Predictably, Avid refuses to get close to Scott.

“It’s a bit dusty, but relatively clean. Come sleep a little, I’ll keep watch.”

“You’re insane if you think I’ll let my guard down. I know what you are.” Avid refuses immediately.

Scott narrows his eyes, “and I know, that with how exhausted you are, you wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop me if I attacked you, regardless of if you’re awake or not, so you may as well make tomorrow easier for the both of us and rest.”

“That’s not true. I know all about your kind, I could fight back.” The alchemist insists.

In one swift move, Avid is dangling in the air, held by the neck and too weak to pry Scott’s hand away.

Somehow, Scott is holding him in a way that he isn’t chocking, but the feeling of powerlessness hardly wants to let air pass through his throat regardless.

“No Avid, you really couldn’t.” Scott says calmly, and a moment later, Avid is safely deposited on the stone slab, hands coming up to guard his neck, much too late for it to matter.

Scott leaves for the other side of the tomb with one final annoyed demand.

“Sleep.”

And against his better judgment, Avid does.

—

When he wakes, it’s with a start. His eyes immediately scan the tomb for the teal haired vampire, though, said teal hair is largely covered by the strangely large skull the man insists has the purpose of freaking out Avid, but Avid himself believes it’s more likely meant to hide something.

Scott is just sitting on the stone slab opposite of Avid, and he might just believe the taller man is asleep, if not for the way his back is still pin straight, as though the vampire is unable to abandon his manners even for the purpose of deceit.

The man’s insistence on said manners somewhat confuses Avid if he’s honest. As a vampire, Scott has abandoned morals, the law, and humanity, but the idea of slouching sends him into a fit.

After a very unfair staring match, Scott finally moves (had he forgotten to breathe? Avid could swear Scott had been too still to have been breathing.) “You’re awake.” He notes. “Good, about half of the new day has passed already. Let’s make haste, shall we?”

The vampire stands, and Avid finds that the way his joints don’t crack and protest at all is reason enough to be upset with him.

Avid’s own body is extraordinarily upset with him, not only because he has been dodging a good rest for days now, but when he finally did sleep, it was on a bed made of literal rock, in a tomb that hasn’t seen a good dusting in decades. He’s informed of his body’s unhappiness by the wobbliness of his knees and the unholy headache threatening to introduce him to the floor.

Scott, noticing his delay, turns to look at him once more. “What’s the matter now?”

“Give me a moment, I feel like Owen mistook my forehead for a tree trunk.”

“Yes, feeling like that is a common occurrence when one neglects their health.” Scott drawls with no small amount of judgment.

“Wow Scott, your voice is making it worse, how do you manage it?” Avid snaps back.

Scott stands for a moment in silence and then turns and enters the water elevator. Avid realises a second later that Scott had likely rolled his eyes.

“You can take that stupid mask off you know, I know exactly what you’re hiding under there.” He says when he joins Scott above ground.

“Oh, do you?” The vampire asks, sounding decidedly bored.

“The tell of a vampire’s gluttony, I’d bet all my silver that your eyes are red.” He goads.

“Well, dear alchemist, you’ll be a poor man indeed if you keep gambling like that.” Scott says and to Avid’s surprise, removes the horrid skull.

Staring back at him are the same diamond blue eyes that avid remembers glaring at him and demanding an apology all those weeks ago.

It almost feels like too long a timeframe. Surely it’s only been a few measly days since they were all drawn to and trapped in Oakhurst.

Scott squints and sends a glare at the sun. “I’ve been wearing this thing for too long, my eyes have gotten sensitive.”

“How did you even see at all with it on?” Avid can’t help asking.

Scott glances at him and hands him the skull. “There are tiny holes in the material that was used to seal up the eyes, nose and ears.”

“Why cover them up anyway?”

“Probably to preserve them better, keep moisture out, you know?” Scott muses.

Avid furrows his brow, “but if that’s the objective, why would there be holes at all? And why leave the neck area open?”

“Use your head a little, dear alchemist.” Scott scoffs, “there are holes because I made them.”

Avid glares at him. “You’re despicable.”

“No, I’m having what fun I can in this horrible town while you’re eating frankly worrying quantities of garlic and massacring bats for no reason.” Scott rolls his eyes, and this time Avid can see it.

“It’s not for no reason! Those bats materialised out of nowhere!”

“Your house is infested, that’s all.” Scott starts walking again, and Avid struggles to keep up. Has Scott always walked this fast?

“Our house isn’t infested! It was a vampire attack! A failed one, because our house was secure!”

“Was? You think I come over once and suddenly your house is tainted with the essence of evil or something?”

“Well, it’s mighty suspicious that you only entered when you were finally invited!” Avid pushes.

“It’s basic manners Avid! And it’s not like I’ve ever had reason to enter your house before, I just needed some wool. I sure hope you wouldn’t come into mine and Shelby’s house without asking if it’s okay first.”

“That’s different!” Avid insists, because it is. Of course it is.

Scott is a vampire. Admittedly he’s very good at hiding it, even considering his old fashioned clothing and how pale his skin is. Probably especially considering those things.

Scott has a silver tongue that, in truth, Avid fears more than the teeth which cage it. The vampire is so persuasive, if Avid falls for even one of his lies he’ll certainly fall for others, and from that point onwards, New Oakhurst will truly be doomed.

“How is it different? You’re so focused on me being a vampire that you find suspicion in me doing the same exact things that others do.”

And truly, how is it different. Avid can’t exactly blame the other townspeople for believing him crazy, because truth is that he just doesn’t have proof that Scott is a vampire, just a gut feeling and fear as one hell of a motivator. It’s that simple, as far as Avid knows, Scott has done nothing truly nefarious.

He’s mean spirited and entitled, sure. Prissy and sassy, definitely. Old fashioned and sneaky, perhaps.

But Scott is close friends with Shelby and, despite his distain for manual labour, helps with the construction of their house. Avid has seen the vampire fixing crooked floorboards and straightening the chimney.

The man is always helping Cleo find new seeds to plant, though he always refuses to help with the actual planting. And the way his eyes linger on her every now and again has never seemed malicious. Somehow it always made the man seem lost, confused and perhaps, just perhaps, a little sad.

Scott has, on many occasions protected people from mobs, wielding a sword with more skill than one would expect from such a stuck up noble.

Scott despises the mud paths of the town and is very slowly and with many protests, replacing them with cobblestone.

Scott is constantly on alert in case any of the torches around town burn out and relights or replaces them when needed. Even going so far as to drop by Ren’s slowly emerging new house every other day.

Martyn had said it.

Scott brings value to the town. He’s not happy about it, but he contributes to the wellbeing of his fellow townspeople.

“I think I see another tomb in the distance there.” Scott says, and Avid wonders if there’s any point in mentioning that the fog is too thick to refer to anything visible as ‘in the distance’.

It takes another half hour before they actually reach the tomb Scott had spotted, but inside they find a night-vision tome.

“That one does seen useful, I’ll admit, but again with that awful time limit.” The vampire sighs. “What good would five minutes do?”

“Well you can have it, It hasn’t been long enough since I absorbed the last one.” Avid offers, though he knows Scott doesn’t need the book to see in the dark. The man likely can’t even use the books in the first place.

Scott glances at him with a raised brow, before schooling his expression. “Thank you, dear alchemist.”

Avid scoffs. “Yeah, whatever. Should we start heading back? We don’t want to stay away from town too long, the others might get worried. Not to mention we’re running out of rations.” He sends a pointed look at the man, knowing full well his portion hasn’t been touched once.

Scott narrows his eyes at Avid.

“I still have some left, as the name demands, I’ve been rationing them.”

“Oh really? And it’s not just because you can’t eat normal food?” Acid prods.

“Can’t eat? Not quite. Don’t like to eat? Guilty. Your peasant food, or, apologies, what did you call it? ‘Normal food’ isn’t exactly a pleasure to eat.” Scott sniffs haughtily. “You may partake in my share if you’re truly getting peckish and have actually run out, but somehow I doubt it.”

Avid only scowls at the man.

The first half of the journey back to town passes in silence. They hunker down in the same tomb they spent the first night in.

“I can keep watch this time, since you stayed up all night last time.” Avid offers with a carefully even tone.

“Absolutely not. We will sleep in shifts. I’ll sleep first since, indeed, I’ve been awake far too long, and you’ll take the other half of the night to rest.” Scott argues back immediately.

Avid watches him carefully as, without waiting for Avid to agree, the other man settles himself on a stone bench and closes his eyes.

It’s almost convincing, if not for the way the rise and fall of his chest seems too stiff. Avid almost believes the vampire is asleep, if not for the fact that the man doesn’t seem to know that people move in their sleep, eyelids fluttering, mouth twitching, limbs rearranging.

Scott looks like a corpse.

A beautiful corpse, but a corpse nonetheless.

And really, Avid is kind of pissed that Scott is so pretty. He imagines it would be easier to out him if he was just mediocre, but the man just had to have a sweet, round face, a small, upturned mouth, nice and straight nose, and those stupidly bright, annoyingly innocent, disgustingly piercing blue eyes.

How dare Scott have shimmering skin and soft looking hair. How dare he have such round and soft looking cheeks, that flush with the perfect shade of pink to compliment those horrid eyes of his, after every suspicious outing.

That’s the worst thing about vampires, really. Everything about them is tailor made to make humans trust them.

It’s just unfair how hard it is to be suspicious of Scott, how is anyone aside from Avid meant to see the truth when even Avid is struggling?

He has a thought. Surely the man’s beauty isn’t wholly from the night. It seems too much. Avid has seen vampires before, and they’ve all been beautiful, the older ones frighteningly so, but Scott is a step above even them. Surely he’s not supposed to believe that Scott is even older, even more powerful than the most ancient of the vampires he’s seen before. Surely it’s all a trick.

He activates his new ability.

The shimmer of Scott’s skin dies down, the only noticeable difference.

Avid wants to bang his head on a rock.

How is that fair?

—

Avid had hoped to stay awake during Scott’s shift, but after sleeping in the same room as the vampire once, his body has decided that it’s a perfectly acceptable thing to do.

He feels safe, and that scares him.

When Scott ‘wakes’ and Avid lies down on his own side of the room, he finds that the way his eyes droop closed isn’t fake at all, not like he intended, and before he knows it, he’s fallen asleep.

—

Avid has a problem.

That’s not quite true, Avid has multiple problems, but the current most relevant and problematic of those problems is a quarter foot taller than him, has stupidly nice hair, and for some reason hasn’t hurt him yet.

Scott has neither killed him (which he can somewhat understand, considering everyone in town knows they’re partnered together) nor turned him into a vampire, which Avid knows because he has become near obsessive with checking that he still has a reflection in every body of water they pass by.

Avid can hardly believe it when they reach the town gates.

He’s alive, he’s human, and Scott has actually been weirdly nice to him the whole trip.

The vampire had held him and calmed him down from a panic attack. He hadn’t been great at it, Avid could’ve done with fewer condescending looks, but the fact that Scott had bothered at all was surprise enough for him.

“Avid! Bud! I’m so glad you’re back!” Hearing Drift’s voice is like a shot through the heart.

They both made it, they both survived, and now they can go back home together and Avid won’t have to imagine all the things that could hurt her when he isn’t looking.

“How did your trip go?” She asks when she releases him from the hug she’d trapped him in.

Avid can see the way the other townsfolk badly pretend they aren’t eavesdropping. And really, what is he supposed to say?

“It was good. Scott was… nice.” At least his own weird Scott version of nice.

Drift lights up like all the holidays ever just arrived at once.

“Oh Buddy, I’m so happy! Scott really is a good guy once you get past all the… Scott.” She babbles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Avid hears Scott grumble behind him, and the fact that he isn’t startled, that he knew Scott was behind him, that he didn’t immediately turn around to keep tabs on the man, that says something, but Avid isn’t sure what exactly just yet.

Avid still twitches in discomfort when Drift goes to hug Scott, but Scott seems almost just as uncertain of what to do when the detective wraps her arms around him.

“Thank you, Scott. I was so worried, leaving him like that, but I couldn’t let Martyn run off alone.” Judging by the blonde’s sheepish face, Avid assumes that Drift gave him a piece of her mind during their trip.

“Yeah, well, that’s the whole reason why we move in pairs anyway, so it’s whatever.” Scott brushes off her thanks and weasels away to join Shelby by the town well.

“You did it! Avid actually paid you a compliment. About your character of all things! I can hardly believe it.” Shelby cheers.

“Okay what is it with everyone alluding that I’m hard to like today?” Scott doesn’t quite whine, but Avid assumes that’s only because he’s Scott.

“Aye, yer a bit much for the pallet, dontcha kno?” Ren adds his opinion to the mix, “but when you get to the centre, it ain’t too bad fer a nobleman, dontcha kno, dontcha kno?”

“Yeah, whatever, I know dontcha know. Let’s go home Shelby, I need some me time.”

—

The townspeople actually like Scott. As a person.

It’s been a long time since someone has liked him as a person, and humans have never been fond of him, even when he had been one of them himself.

He yearns for his coven more now than the past few weeks have allowed, but there is no way to leave Oakhurst, and furthermore, Scott is unsure if they’re even still around.

Eloise has probably done well for herself, and if Lauren has been smart enough to stick with her dam, then she ought to be alright as well.

And then there’s Cleo. She had always been an enigma, but Scott knew that she’d been trying to regain her humanity for decades when they met.

When Scott first saw Cleo the farmer woman in Oakhurst, he’d thought it must be her. That she’d gotten her wish. They looked exactly the same, but she hadn’t recognised him, and Scott couldn’t bring himself to believe that she would just forget about him, he couldn’t imagine a Cleo that would accept a chance at mortality at the cost of forgetting the coven.

So it wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her.

His Cleo the Undead was still out there somewhere or she was dead, and there was no other option.

But even if they’ve all managed to stay alive (or some equivalent of the word) the coven may have disbanded.

All in all, Scott feels very alone.

There’s of course Owen and Pyro, but Owen looks like he is constantly one wrong word away from driving a stake in his own heart, and Pyro hasn’t even been a vampire for a week yet.

Scott has come to find that Shelby is a great help when he’s feeling like this.

At first, he hadn’t thought much of the strange human that let him live with her when she didn’t even know him, but after that first day living together, a feeling of off putting familiarity began to form.

The very core of who Scott was recognised Shelby as a friend for whatever reason, and the vampire had no way to combat this. A trap far more thorough and inescapable than any allure or thrall a vampire could conjure.

“Come on Scott!” Shelby beckons him towards to woods, and really, it should be the other way around, shouldn’t it?

“Where are you two headed?” Owen asks offhandedly.

Shelby turns to him with glee, “Scott’s helping me look for werewolves!”

“I am?”

He goes ignored by both his companions.

“If you go in the woods now, you’re more likely to wind up on the path of a regular wolf pack.” Owen warns, and Scott can see him trying to catch his eye.

He knew, of course, that the other vampire thought this a perfect opportunity, and he was getting hungry, which meant he would have to find something (someone) to feast on sooner rather than later.

But Scott didn’t invite Owen along with them.

Predictably, they didn’t find much, but Shelby still insisted on investigating every paw-print they came across.

“Ooh, what about this one? This one looks real werewolfy.”

“Shel, that one’s not even a wolf, it’s a hyena print.”

Scott was getting really hungry, and the longer they spent in the woods, just the two of them, the harder it became to ignore his thirst.

Which is why, for the first time, Scott was actually glad that Avid was a creepy little stalker.

At this point though, just the vague knowledge that the man was around wasn’t quite enough to keep his mind from wandering.

“You know, Avid, if you’re going to follow us around, you may as well help us look.” He calls out, trying to sound casual. He doesn’t quite manage to not sound smug.

Scott hears a faint yelp and thump from somewhere behind him, and sees Shelby turn to look for the source. “Avid? Did you come to help us find werewolves?”

Avid, red faced in a way that only humans can manage, and looking positively frazzled, stumbles out of the bushes.

Scott raises an eyebrow and the man scowls, but quickly turns to Shelby instead. “Not werewolves! Vampires! I mean, Scott is here, but I’m sure there are others!”

Shelby shrugs.

“Well, if Scott’s a vampire, and he’s not, he totally has faerie vibes, then he can use his vampire powers to protect us from the werewolves.”

She thinks for a moment.

“And your other vampires as well, I’m sure he won’t let them get us.”

Avid’s brow twitches. “You think he’d stop his kin if they were starving and attacked you?”

Before Shelby can answer, Scott interjects. “Vampire or not, I’m not letting someone hurt Shelby.” Despite the hunger swirling around where blood ought to be.

“Awee, Scott!” She coos. “It’s okay, I wouldn’t mind being turned into a vampire! I’d finally have proof of the supernatural!”

For once, Avid and Scott are on the exact same wavelength, as they look at Shelby indignantly, though Avid likely believes her foolish, while Scott is rethinking his options.

“You know it hurts worse than dying, right?” Avid asks her.

“How would you know what it feels like?” Scott asks.

“What type of death?”

The two men turn to look at Shelby once more.

“What? Some deaths hurt way worse than others. I bet it hurt a lot when my dad was mauled by a werewolf. That’s another reason being a vampire seems pretty alright! I’ve heard that they’re natural enemies of werewolves.”

“That’s a myth, actually.” Avid corrects immediately.

Scott scowls harder, and harder still at the ache in his gums. He’s starving. “Again, how would you know?”

It is a myth. Scott has never seen a werewolf, but he doesn’t particularly care either way. He feels no instinctual hatred, though he doubts he’d particularly like werewolves either.

“Vampires are my thing! I know about them!”

“Well, at the very least I’d have vampire powers, and immortality doesn’t seem too bad either.” Shelby continues.

“You’d be alone for as long as you exist! Vampires always end up alone.” Avid screeches.

Scott grins wearily. “I could always let her turn me, and then she wouldn’t be alone.”

He’s so hungry.

“Awwee, you’re so sweet Scott! But are you certain a faerie can be turned into a vampire?”

If he could get one of these humans alone…

“No!!” Avid screams, indignant.

“Really? I guess it makes sense, I bet faeries have some magic protection against vampirism-“

He could finally feast…

“No! No! No!” Avid interrupts before Shelby can continue. “You’re not going to become a vampire Shelby! It’s a bad idea all around!”

“For once I agree with Avid.” Does he? The idea of it is so appealing. Shelby’s warm blood on his tongue, and her by his side for eternity…

“Shut it Major. Aren’t you still pretending you don’t believe in vampires?”

…

Scott snickers. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“And furthermore, you can’t be turned into a vampire! You already are one!”

Scott waves his hand dismissively, the gesture more sluggish than normal. “Innocent till proven guilty, your roommate should know that.”

…

…

…

Avid glares at him with newfound ferocity. “Don’t talk about Drift like you know her.”

Scott smiles, showing off his teeth. Though they aren’t elongated right now, only due to unbelievable effort, they do still have a slight sharpness to them. Nothing inherently inhuman, but enough to make Avid take a cautious step back. The hunter isn’t particularly experienced. Even this starved, Scott could easily… “But I do know her, we’re friends.”

…

…

…

…

“Hey guys! Look at these prints! These are human.”

Pausing their argument they make their way to Shelby, who had wandered off, neither wanting her too far from them in the middle of the woods.

“Well look at that.” Avid muses. “I wonder what kind of weirdo wears heels to go for a walk in the woods?” He sends a glance at Scott’s high heeled boots.

Scott can hear his heart beating, slow and strong. Nothing like the fluttering of a hummingbird’s wings from back in the tomb…

How long would it take, to get it to spike like that again…

Two seconds?

Just one?

Less than—

“Well, I’m sorry that you’re allergic to fashion. Martyn seems to have no issues traipsing around the forest with his heels.” Scott brushes him off, tearing his gaze away from the alchemists neck.

Avid narrows his eyes. “Martyn wears horse riding boots. That is very different from your- your-“

“If you must know, these are also riding boots, simply a different style. Originating from Poland I believe.” Scott lectures smugly.

Avid looks at him skeptically. “You don’t seem like the type of guy to ride a horse.”

“It’s actually a rather popular hobby among nobles.” Scott says, examining his nails. Using his claws has a tendency to twist them some. “Though you would be correct in that I don’t care much for the activity. Unfortunately the path to this horrible town was so overgrown that it was far from carriage friendly, and I was absolutely not going to walk like some plebeian.”

Avid’s scowl deepens, and Scott sends a little smirk his way.

“Ooh! Guys, look at this one!” Shelby calls from further away, where she’d wandered while they were bickering. Abandoning the argument, Scott returns to her side and allows her to excitedly point out another paw print.

“That one- actually I don’t know this one.” Scott frowns. He’d lived in Oakhurst for centuries, even before his slumber, and was very familiar with the fauna. This was a print he’d never seen before.

“Let me take a look.” Avid butts in, crouching by where Shelby is also examining the print, both entirely unbothered by the fact that they’re getting dirt on their clothes.

As they murmur, Scott considers Shelby’s previous statement.

Would she truly be alright with being turned? If so, Scott would be more than happy for the chance to keep his human around longer than her normal lifespan would allow.

He’ll have to do something about her wardrobe though. While acceptable when she’d arrived, Shelby’s clothes had been through a lot since the humans all arrived in Oakhurst. Scott wonders if maybe his coven-mates left some clothes behind that might still be salvageable, or perhaps some of his own old dresses?

If any have survived the six hundred years of neglect, then likely the ones in the crypt under the castle.

“No, Scott’s right, I’ve never seen prints like these, and I’m quite an expert on this stuff. I used to live in a forest with my old partner.” Avid tells Shelby, before cringing and awkwardly brushing dirt off the knees of his pants.

Shelby and Scott unanimously decide, for the better, that prying is a bad idea.

Or perhaps Shelby is too distracted by the possibility of actual werewolf tracks to have even noticed the alchemist’s discomfort and hesitance.

“You mean these could really be what I’ve been looking for?” She gushes happily. “What are we waiting for? Let’s follow them!”

“No!” “Absolutely not, Shel.” Both men shoot the idea down immediately.

“Even if it’s not a werewolf, it’s a wild animal, that’s dangerous. And what if it is a werewolf? Then what? You get mauled like your father?” Scott scolds her.

Her saddened look makes him feel an awful, wriggling feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach, but he holds strong. “I’m sorry guys, I guess I got too excited and didn’t think about what would happen if it really was a werewolf.”

“I mean,” She starts pacing. “All these years, I’ve been looking, but I never really gave a thought to what I’d do when I found what I was looking for.”

Scott pats her on the head indulgently. “There there, you just need a little more time to figure it out, dear, and you have plenty. But for now we should head back to town.”

Avid hums agreeably and easily falls in step with him and Shelby as they walk. “I’m not actually a very good vampire hunter. That was my partner.” He admits to Shelby with a quiet voice.

“I was the one who investigated and planned, she did the actual hunting. And now she’s gone, and I’m trapped in a deserted town, and I know there are vampires here. I guess I’m not entirely sure what to do without her by my side.” He explains further, stuffing his hands in his pockets, leaving his stance looking defensive.

Scott looks over at him. Defensive, yes, but for once Avid’s posture show’s no real paranoia. “I’m surprised you’re letting me hear this. I’d have expected you to want to seem like more of a threat to your main suspect.”

The man scoffs. “Like you hadn’t figured it out already. You haven’t been the slightest bit wary of me since day one.”

Scott snickers. “To be fair, on day one you threw a stick at me and ran the other way.”

Avid’s face flushes a deep red, faster than Scott thought was possible for humans. “It was a stake, not a stick! And you just caught me off guard!” The other protests.

“I was just offering Cleo the seeds I’d found.”

Shelby is the one who speaks next, which actually startles Scott for a moment, as she’d been rather quiet for a bit now. “I’m so glad you two get along now!”

“What?!” Avid screeches.

Scott smirks, though the expression twitches as a sharp pain reminds him just how hungry he is once more. “Don’t deny it, bestie. We’re practically family by now.”

“No! I still don’t trust you!”

“If you say so, Avid. Say, Shelby, would you like to go fishing later?”

—

Owen could see Scott’s thoughts drifting away from him, could almost feel his hunger in the pit of his own dormant stomach. The other immortal had clearly not had enough opportunities to eat, and the food situation in the town wasn’t exactly vampire friendly with it’s heavy reliance on vegetables.

It summoned up some begrudging respect in Owen. Had he been so starved, he’d have snapped and killed someone by now. Scott had scary self control.

Owen wasn’t entirely sure why Scott had picked fishing as the alibi to get Shelby away from the town, but it had backfired horribly, as what amounted to about half the townspeople had decided to tag along.

And once again, accusations were being thrown at Scott. Owen still wasn’t sure how the things he was being accused of doing were actually suspicious, Scott had said it himself, he’s done nothing that every other person in town hasn’t.

Owen kept his gaze on the flowing water, trying to figure out how many fish he’d have caught by now if he could just jump in a get at them.

“Hey, Owen?” Shelby broke the silence, as she often did.

Owen turned to look at the girl, her red hair not exactly helping to get his thoughts away from hunger. “Yes?”

Her ochre eyes narrowed for a moment behind the frames of the, quite frankly giant, glasses. A contemplating look.

“Would you say Scott has a… very manners focused worldview? And that, perhaps, it shows in his speech?”

Owen blinks in bewilderment for a moment. It feels like a vampire question, but Owen can see no way in which having strict manners would prove someone is a vampire.

“… perhaps?” He answers the question tentatively.

Her eyes widen and lip twitches. Owen hears it when her heart rate picks up speed.

“And what about milk? Oh, and honey! Would you say he likes them? And shiny things? He seems like he’d enjoy shiny things. Have you ever seen him near a ring of mushrooms?”

“Wha-“

“Have you ever caught him in a lie? How does he feel about debts? And he looked so uncomfortable holding that iron needle!”

“Shelby-“

“Don’t try and convince me otherwise Owen! I live with him, it’s impossible not to notice! I know what Scott is! His ears are pointy!”

“Maybe y-“

“A faerie!”

…

“What?”

In the barrage of her questions, Owen didn’t notice when Scott slinked off into the shadows.

—

Avid trusts Scott.

This is an issue.

Avid also doesn’t trust Scott.

That is a complication, but it’s what’s expected, unlike the former.

It’s such a bad idea, especially since Drift was already asleep and couldn’t go with him, but he just wanted to check if Scott and Shelby truly were just fishing.

Why would Scott of all people (when did Avid start thinking of him as a person-) need fish?

The longer he walked down the darkened path, the more certain he grew that it was a bad idea to venture out of the relative safety of the town.

If not some monster in the shadows, where the howling of the wind is loudest, or one of those wolves Owen is always talking about, a cold was certain to catch up to him, and easily dismiss the measly protection of his usual clothing.

Winter was approaching, and in his hurry to get away from her corpse, Avid hadn’t brought any change of clothes with him.

But despite the cold trying to drag him back, make him sluggish and slow, Avid could hear his own breathing quicken and feel his heart beat more insistently.

Mostly against his wishes, his legs picked up the pace, carrying him faster and faster in the direction where there would hopefully be people.

He wasn’t being followed though. Right?

A wolf wouldn’t bother with a human, surely.

And a vampire on the hunt would’ve caught up by now…

Surely-

Avid stops.

The forest is quiet. What happened to all the animals? The town is constantly struggling to find more animals to try and breed more livestock, but that doesn’t mean the animals aren’t there.

There’s always the clucking of some chicken or the baa of a sheep.

So then, where are they now?

Surely Avid is being paranoid. It’s already so dark out, and the animals are apparently smarter than him, hidden away in their dens.

Hidden where the monsters in the shadows between trees can’t find them.

He urges his feet to start moving again, to just go-

But just as he jerks forward, trying to run away from-

Arms wind themselves around his waist and face, covering his eyes, pulling to expose his neck-

And Avid knows. Knows before he even feels the cold, unnatural, unnecessary breath on the back of his neck-

Knows before the fangs touch his skin and-

Freeze.

The moment the cold teeth make contact, all movement ceases, leaving only Avid’s laboured breathing in it’s wake.

“Please don’t. Please.” His voice was nigh a whisper. “Scott.”

He feels the arms restraining him tighten. It’s not even close to a confession, but it feels like one.

“Don’t do this to me.” He pleads.

He prays to a god he doesn’t quite believe in, that the person he’s talking to is the Scott who held him during a panic attack, not the Scott who left him to writhe on the floor of his no longer safe house, gasping for breath with no luck until his vision blacked out.

The Scott who looks at Cleo like he wants a hug, not the Scott who looks at Avid like he wants to snap his neck.

The Scott who listens to Shelby ramble about monsters and cryptids with an indulgent look and a soft smile, not the Scott who seems to take pleasure in alienating Avid from the rest of the town.

Avid prays that the person standing behind him is the Scott that everyone else gets to have on their side, not the Scott that he is when Avid is around.

The arms around him loosen the slightest amount, and he still hasn’t been bit.

It’s properly dark now, the fog blanketing the ground even thicker and meaner than before, not allowing for his sight to break through it in the slightest.

When he is finally (unbelievably) freed from the hold of the vampire, and the smothering feeling of a hungry gaze disappears, Avid finally takes a breath, and then another, and then he’s holding back sobs, and through his tear blurred eyes, he sees the footprints of whoever had caught him. Whoever had spared him.

What kind of weirdo wears high heels to take a walk in the forest.

—

Chapter Text

Shelby isn’t sure she feels all that much different as a vampire than she did as a human.

A little parched is all.

The biggest difference is one that isn’t connected to her afterlife. It’s the hollowness in her chest, in no way connected to their still heart. It’s the silence around her. The loneliness. The feeling of a friend lost. Or a friend you only had in a dream, disappearing with the new day.

Scott’s not her roommate anymore…

She’d cry if she could, but Scott took their ability to do that with him when he left.

Truth is. Shelby feels as human as she’s always felt. It may be connected to how alien she always felt among their peers, but she’s no different today than she was yesterday.

The only difference is that their home is missing something.

The difference is that she now knows that the bed across the room from her own remains untouched.

The difference is that her chest of food is overflowing with food enough for two, and now, even she’s not eating it.

The difference is that, for the first time since finding out they’re all trapped in Oakhurst, Shelby actually wants to leave. Because why would they have wanted to before? She had a not so cute but homey little cottage, she wasn’t called crazy, she was so close to finding a werewolf and she had a brand new best friend forever.

Except.

Except now that they could actually have forever, they find out that her best friend never actually considered them to be roommates.

Now she finds out that his real home is what’s left of a castle on an isolated hill so far away from them.

Shelby wants Scott to come back. They want to goof around with him and teach him to knit and croquet, and she wants to look for cryptids together and fly together and build a new home if this one isn’t good enough for him.

They want Scott to come back.

She goes for a walk instead.

Shelby decides, that her facourite vampire perk might just be the better vision. Not just at night, though there’s still a slight blurriness in their eyes. Nevertheless they can appreciate the night sky much better now.

Back in her old town, though it wasn’t quite a city, the light levels were still much higher than here in Oakhurst, and the sky was much duller as far as stars went.

They could understand why people used to worship the stars when she looked up at them now. Should she pray to them? Would they answer?

“Shelby?” A voice belonging to someone who they don’t want behind her calls to her from behind her.

She turns to face Pyro much faster than they ever could’ve managed before last night.

Last night when…

“Hi Pyro!” She tries their best to push cheer into their voice, even though Shelby isn’t feeling very cheery today. She’s a little angry honestly.

She’s very angry, actually.

Shelby doesn’t mind being a vampire. She does mind how she was turned into one.

Pyro looks uncertain, shifting his weight around from one foot to another in a very human manner. It’s so different from Scott, who decides on a pose and sticks with it until he either starts walking somewhere else again or needs to do something.

Shelby can’t help but wonder how long until they too stop with these human habits.

“So… I’m sure you would’ve preferred if Scott was the one to help ease you into being a vampire, but he had to go get that beacon, and I haven’t seen him around since.” Pyro swallows nervously and then cringes at the feeling of horrible dryness scraping at his throat. A feeling Shelby has become annoyingly familiar with.

They’re trying their best to stop trying to swallow for no reason.

“Umm, I brought you some food!” Pyro exclaims, scrambling to look through his bag and pulling out a hastily packaged piece of mutton.

She takes it, because the hunger is indeed starting to bother her quite a lot.

Pyro crosses his arms, looking somewhat defensive despite Shelby’s best attempts to not let it show how angry they are at the other vampire. “I know that the first few hours being a vampire you don’t really feel the hunger, and when you do, at first it doesn’t seem too bad, but it really sneaks up on you.” He picks at the skin around his nails, and Shelby notes that much like their own now, Pyro’s nails have a slightly unnatural hue and sharpness to them.

“It becomes so bad so fast, and all of a sudden there are no animals for some reason, and somehow Scott and Owen seem to have no trouble keeping themselves from going crazy from the pain of it!” Shelby considers what she should do. Pyro is getting properly agitated, and despite how all consuming it had seemed just that morning, she feels her anger pull back, and bringing forth a comforting smile becomes much easier.

She wasn’t sure just how new to this Pyro was, but she supposes they got their answer. Very.

“Well, I don’t know about Owen, but I’m sure Scott would help you if you asked!”

They don’t expect Pyro to scoff. “I wouldn’t be so certain. Scott’s amazing, but he’s not very nice.”

Shelby feels their brows furrow against their will. “Scott’s plenty nice.” She insists.

Pyro’s expression pinches even more into something a little resentful. “Maybe to you.” He snaps. “But Shelby, you get the best of him.”

“How do you mean?” She asks tentatively.

“You’re his favourite! He’s always so helpful and patient when it comes to you, but didn’t you see how angry he was when I lost control last night?” Pyro asks, and Shelby feels her anger try to flare up again. It’s much too early for Pyro to be mentioning what he did to them so callously. “If it had been you, he’d never have hit you like that. The only other person he’s that nice to is Cleo, and I honestly don’t understand why.”

Shelby scowls. “Don’t say that, there’s plenty reason to like Cleo.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Pyro makes a frustrated sound that doesn’t seem wholly human. “I mean that, Scott doesn’t really seem to like many people at all, but he always goes out of his way for the two of you.”

Shelby’s not sure what to say.

“But that’s not what I’m here for.” Pyro straightens his back, and Shelby can’t help the quirk of their lips at the thought of Scott admonishing him about his posture. “Do you need any help with your vampire abilities?”

Shelby considers it a little. She’s still angry at Pyro, not necessarily because he turned her, she’s very certain that she doesn’t mind being a vampire. They’d even said it before they were turned. Shelby doesn’t mind being a vampire.

Pyro turned her, and Shelby doesn’t mind.

But Pyro also hurt them, and she does mind that.

Pyro’s bite had been brutal, and when he got a taste he’d chased after her with a deranged look on his face. If she’d been given a moment to think about it, she surely would’ve agreed to being turned, because she. didn’t. mind.

But it had hurt, and they’d been startled, so she’d run.

And it’s true, Scott had also bit her, but she distinctly remembered the conversation from hours prior, where they’d told him she might actually like the idea of becoming a vampire.

And when Scott had bit them, they’d only felt the smallest pinprick of pain. Not too different from pricking her finger when they’d been sowing together.

Scott wouldn’t have hurt her when he turned her, and Pyro did.

But Shelby knows that it wasn’t on purpose. It’s the only reason they’re able to hold her anger at bay at all.

Her decision is made, and she’s not going to regret it.

Shelby’s a vampire now, and she’s absolutely not going to regret it.

“Sure do, you’ll show me how?” They extend the olive branch, and the way Pyro perks up makes it worth the way that the held back anger still scorches her inside. The burn of acid as she swallows it back down, not allowing themselves to spit it out.

Shelby’s not that kind of person.

And Pyro’s words from earlier in the conversation are like a salve on her hurt. Perhaps their best friend forever didn’t have to fade away in the daylight, like the remnants of a pleasant dream, after all.

And maybe when the anger stops howling to be let out of the cage of Shelby’s stilled but ever strong heart, she can have even more best friends forever.

In the meantime they let Pyro lead them into the night, with no fear of the creatures that lurk there, for they are one of them now.

“Have you figured out your bat transformation yet?” Pyro asks once they’re far enough from the town.

The treetops so far into the woods are taller than she’s ever seen before, towering over them, the rising moon barely peeking out from between the branches. She looks up to the stars again, hoping for guidance.

Shelby has always been the type to believe in things, whether it be something as simple as the kindness of others or as obscure as the supernatural. They never quite managed to figure out how to believe in any gods though. How would a human possibly be able to comprehend the idea of something so big? How would a human be able to figure out what an all powerful being wants from them.

Shelby had always felt that any god or gods that may exist, wouldn’t really care for her. They’re just one tiny person among millions, surely even an omnipotent being wouldn’t care to keep track of everything and everyone, even if they technically could.

Though perhaps that’s just the limitations of her own (now not so) mortal mind peeking through the fog.

As they are now though, a creature of the night of the darkest kind, it seems fitting to look for answers in the very night sky that now cradles them in it’s embrace.

The stars remain silent, but the sight of them calmly twinkling on up there, even when suddenly, nothing seems to make sense anymore, it fills her with a sense of calmness.

The stars will be there when she’s fifty, when she’s a hundred, or two hundred, or even a thousand.

They may change and shift, but they’ll be there, and she’ll be here, and she’s going to be okay.

“I’ve figured out how to transform, but actually flying is a little scary.” They admit.

Pyro nods along, looking all too understanding. “Yeah, the first time I transformed Scott was there, so I felt a little safer. I mean, he probably wouldn’t let me plummet to my death.” He fidgets a little before muttering one final. “Probably.”

Her vampirically sharpened ears, both figuratively and literally, pick it up from where Pyro had tried to tuck the word under his breath, but for once, they don’t immediately jump in to defend Scott’s character.

Perhaps they’re letting personal bias lead them. Perhaps Shelby has been imagining Scott as a better person than he actually is this whole time, but perhaps that’s okay.

Scott’s a bit of a jerk, but he’s kind to Shelby, and he’s become very dear to her in the short while they’ve spent together.

She can be nice enough for the both of them, they decide.

“I think I’ll build a new house one of these days. A grand one, befitting of an eternal life.” Shelby tells the stars, because she thinks, perhaps they’d like to know.

Shelby’s entire future is now defined by the word ‘perhaps’, but they’re okay with that.

“…what?” Pyro’s voice snaps her out of her musings, and they turn to him with a cheeky grin. “Don’t mind it, will you fly with me?”

That gets him smiling again with relieved eyes, and a tiny, bitter part of them wants to snap at him not to be so familiar. He hasn’t apologised yet, and Shelby has decided they won’t forgive him until he does, but she knows perfectly well the message she’s sending by smiling at him all friendly like.

“You’ll catch me if I can’t do it, yeah?”

“Of course.” Pyro agrees immediately, and the sight of his fangs when he smiles gives them the urge to bare their own and hiss.

Instead, Shelby retreats into her mind and begins tugging at the rest of herself, shoving and compressing their physical body into something smaller, lighter, sleeker. As they’re doing so, they wonder if vampires turn into bats because they’re so simple in shape. If maybe it’s simply the easiest form to contort the very matter they’re made of into.

But then again, wouldn’t it be simpler to turn into something of similar mass? Like a black leopard if aesthetic is important, or a wolf…

No, that’s silly, there aren’t any wolves comparable in mass to humans, only on the extreme ends.

…Except vampires are immortal, and there absolutely are extinct wolf species that are in the right range! Like the Aenocyon dirus, or Canis armbrusteri, or Canis lupus maximus!

Could it be? Had Shelby finally found the answers they were looking for?

Werewolves were always described as being clearly wolves but still distinctly different from regular wolves! She’d been down this rabbit hole before, just not looking from the correct angle!

…

Wasn’t Owen always talking about wolves?

“Shelby?”

“I NEED MY NOTEBOOK!” Before they can process that someone called out to them, they zoom off towards town. There are so many thoughts zooming around in her mind right now, a mind that suddenly feels too small to contain it all, so they absolutely need to write everything down!

The trees blur into one as she speeds ahead, faster, faster.

Faster than she’s ever been before!

The towering wooden walls of the town are in sight within seconds, they weren’t all that far in the first place.

Come to think of it, why had she been out there in the first place? Wasn’t she with-

Their momentum stops abruptly, and she feels the useless clumps of organs in the hollow of their body try to lunge ahead without the rest of her.

She loses track of their limbs in the confusion, bending and twisting every which way with the leftover energy of her movement. She’s only held steady by the bony, spindly little grip on her shoulder blades… those are shoulder blades, right?

Come to think of it, where are their arms? And have they always had a tail?

“Shelby, you need to be quiet!” She hears someone shout in their ear, and feels the auricle of her strangely tall ears twitch at the uncomfortable volume. “Please Shelby, stop squeaking!”

The grip on her shoulders finally lowers them to the ground, where they immediately burrow into the soft grass.

Looking up at the source of the voice from before, all they see is a bat, all fluffed up and bundled in their own wings. It’s adorable.

The bat keeps staring at her, and Shelby stares back in equal measure. Something about the bat is so achingly familiar, like she’d seen those pale blue eyes before.

Blue eyes are uncommon in bats, but for the species of bat in front of them, it is possible for them to appear to have blueish eyes in certain lighting. The bright red moon doesn’t seem likely to reflect blue light, but what does Shelby know about that? She really only studied zoology because it was the closest they could get to studying cryptids.

The little hoary bad in front of her sure is adorable though, especially when he tilts his itty bitty head. “Why is your bat form so much larger than mine?” There’s a bit of a whine to the bat’s voice when he speaks, and it’s so cute, Shelby could just bite him.

But come to think of it, since when did bats talk? They’re not judging, it’s just innocent curiosity!

She looks closer still at those familiar eyes. The voice too was one Shelby could swear she’d heard somewhere before…

“Pyro?” She asks hesitantly.

The bat fluffs up a little more, settling down in the grass more comfortably. “Honestly Shelby, what was that about? You almost crashed straight into Ren and Martyn!”

“Oh…” And indeed, now that the fog in their mind is receding, she can hear their voices, likely taking a walk around the wall.

“And seriously, why are you so large?” Pyro asks again.

Not knowing how to answer that, as she has no idea what they look like, they extend their wings and examine the thin membrane. Just one of her wings completely dwarfs her companion, looking at it, she’d dare estimate that it’s nearly 5 times longer than the entire body of the little hoary bat!

Though, it’s not like the hoary bat is a small species, despite being classified as a microbat. In fact, it’s North America’s largest. For Pyro to seem so small in comparison to them, she must be a megabat!

Examining herself closer, and noting the distinct reddish hue of their fur, they come to an easy conclusion.

“Well, we’re different species.” She offers the explanation easily. “You’re Lasiurus cinereus, I’m Pteropus vampyrus.”

Pyro can’t quite manage expressions in this form, but his ears twitch with what Shelby assumes is awe at their genius. “Those words mean nothing to me Shel.”

“Don’t call me that.” She says absentmindedly. “Anyways, Lasireurus cinereus is also known as the hoary bat. Very adorable. Pteropus vampyrus is better known as the red flying fox, not exactly a native species, so I couldn’t tell you why I turned into one.”

“I didn’t even know bats could be that big.” Pyro admits glumly. “I’m bigger than both Owen and Scott, so I was real surprised when I saw you turn into this.”

“I guess it was just easier to be more similar in size to my normal self. Though if that’s the case, then I still don’t know why I ended up as a flying fox, they’re not even the absolute largest bats there are.” Shelby theorises.

“It’s not?!?” Pyro exclaims. “What kind of monster bat is so large then?”

Shelby grins, but quickly hides their fangs when she sees Pyro’s ears fold back and his fur fluff up in what must be primal fear of a creature larger than himself. “That would be the Giant Golden-Crowned Flying Fox.”

“Rolls right off the tongue.” Pyro grumbles. Shelby ignores the comment.

“Their full wingspan is longer than the average human is tall.” She excitedly recites information learned long ago.

“No.” Pyro’s horrified voice makes Shelby want to grin again, but they refrain, only because if Pyro fluffs up anymore, she might give into cute aggression and actually eat the little guy.

“Their body in comparison is only the size of a small cat though, and they mainly feed on fruit.”

Pyro remains silent, giving them the go ahead to keep babbling with a slow blink, a mannerism she assumes he copied from Scott, as Shelby has seen the nobleman do it many times. It’s nothing truly suspicious, Shelby only noticed because it seemed out of character for someone like Scott to make such a sluggish move.

Scott is normally very concise and to the point, or at least he tries to appear that way. In the shared space of their… Shelby’s house, he’d often lounge by the hearth for hours, just enjoying his own company. And when he wants someone to believe something, he’ll talk around the truth, softening the bad parts, amplifying the good, and ever so carefully nudging idle thoughts in his own favour.

Shelby wonders if Scott would like to hear about his own personal species of bat.

Something smaller than a hoary. A large candidate pool indeed. She continues talking as she considers the options.

“Well, the technical term is frugivore. They’re actually also pollinators, and unfortunately an endangered species.” Shelby shifts a little to give their wings some more room, leaning towards Pyro in an easy show of camaraderie. Her fellow vampire is slowly relaxing the more she speaks.

“People are often frightened by them because of how large they are, but they’re really quite gentle. They’re sometimes referred to as vampires, actually!”

It could go either way really, Scott could be one of the most commonly known bats, like the little brown bat, except it’s Scott, so it’d be classic, not common. On the other hand, or wing, Scott would stand out in everything he does, so perhaps something less well known but eye catching, like the northern ghost bat.

“I don’t think I can keep this form up for much longer, we should get further from the town before we turn back.” Pyro lets her know, stretching his body to try and meet their eyes. Shelby bends down and nuzzles his fuzzy head, nipping playfully at one of his ears as it twitches from the proximity.

Shelby thinks she’ll forgive him the moment he apologises.

“Okay, let’s go then. The castle beacon should be safe enough.”

They take flight and zip through the trees, though it quickly becomes apparent that their largely different builds mean largely different speeds.

Pyro is already ways ahead, meanwhile Shelby carefully glides after him. Thankfully, their fellow vampire hasn’t forgotten his promise to catch her should she need it, and circles back whenever he gets too far away.

It isn’t much longer before the castle ruins reveal themselves, emerging from the hungry fog as towering pillars of long lost glory.

The remnants of a home her best friend forever would like to live in.

Shelby perches herself on one of the less precarious looking chairs positioned around a long table. It’s surprising how the wooden chairs are still somewhat recognisable as chairs, while the stone castle is in shambles.

Shelby concludes that the table and chairs must be a more recent addition. Perhaps meant to encourage tourism.

They allow themselves to slip back into a more present state of mind, less confining, but also much more difficult in all the complex reasons for her anger that come flooding back to them as they leave the compressed, simplistic form.

They watch in fascination as Pyro unfolds from within himself across the table from her, emerging into a humanoid shape in mere seconds.

“Well well, look what the bat dragged in. Pyro.” A frigid voice startles them both, Pyro more so than Shelby, as they immediately relax upon recognising the owner. “Shelby.”

They note the shocking difference between how the two names are said, as though a completely different person spoke each.

“Scott!” She rises from the chair and hurries over to him with a spring in their step. “Why didn’t you come find me? Pyro told me no one had seen you since you went after the beacon all alone.”

“Truly? I saw Owen right in the morning” Scott tilts his head.

The movement is sharp and precise, his hair swaying with the motion, falling across and past his subtle magenta eyes, where the red is slowly trickling in and mixing with the brilliant blue into a rather lovely shade.

Shelby imagines their own eyes, shifting from yellow to orange to red.

“I see, that’s good. Speaking of Owen, he likes talking about wolves a lot, what all has he told you exactly?” She digs immediately.

Scott’s lip twitches, so very subtly that only due to their improved senses does she notice, and more because she can hear it than that she can see it, as their eyes still aren’t quite there yet.

“No, Shel.” He says without further clarification, but the undeniable fondness in his voice, that Shelby can recognise only in comparison to the iciness that had resounded when Scott had addressed Pyro, makes a warm shiver push up her throat, the muscles in their vocal tract contracting and producing a gentle vibration that they just barely manage to restrain before it turns into an actual purr.

“I didn’t even say it yet.” She doesn’t pout, but it’s a near thing.

“Do you want me to tell you my guess or can we agree I’m right?”

…

“Okay fine, you’re right.” Shelby concedes, before perking up again. “By the way, what species of bat do you turn into?”

Scott somehow manages to make a raised eyebrow look regal, and Shelby is absolutely taking notes. “What brought this on?” He asks idly.

“Pyro is jealous that mine is bigger!”

…

“Shel-“

“Don’t say anything, I realised the moment I said it.”

Scott looks at her with unconcealed amusement, something Shelby has learned is very important to him. The vampire gets bored easily, and appreciates some easy fun.

“A common vampire bat.” Scott says after a moment of silence.

Shelby gasps, hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Classic!”

Scott visibly preens and they just about suppress a snicker. “Indeed!” Scott boasts. “Recognisable and on brand.”

He looks both of the younger vampires over with a critical eye. “I take it you’re asking because you went flying? How are you settling in? If you’re having any trouble you can tell me.” He pauses to think before adding. “Or tell Owen and I’ll make him help you.” He places an affectionate pat on the crown of their head.

“I’m all good, I was a little nervous about actually taking flight, but Pyro helped me!” She reassures him easily.

Scott’s expression loses some of it’s openness when he looks over to where Pyro is fidgeting in the corner, freezing as the piercing gaze falls upon him.

“Right. Him.” Scott makes direct eye contact with the man as he speaks. “I suppose it’s only right that he take responsibility for his rashness.”

Shelby feels a little bad as they see Pyro sink into himself at the words.

Thankfully, Scott stops at that, turning back to Shelby and gesturing for her to take a seat at the table again. They go without complaint as Scott asks them a question. “Do I get to know what species of bat you are?” He sits at the head of the table, leaning in a little and resting his chin on his propped up hands, though Shelby doubts he needs the support.

“I’m a red flying fox.”

Scott stares at her a moment, unblinking, before giving an approving nod. “Fitting.” He declares.

They grin easily at the praise.

For a moment they lapse back into a silence, and Shelby takes the chance to observe the castle a little closer.

Rather quickly she notes, that some parts of the wall look new, and she has to face the fact that their fear was justified. Scott is renovating the castle, likely with the plan to move in permanently.

And Shelby doesn’t know if they’re welcome to follow.

“So, this is where you’re staying now?” She asks, the amplified control over her body being the only reason she manages to control the shake threatening to break it’s way into their voice.

Scott nods again. “That’s the plan, the townspeople are getting too suspicious for me to safely stay in town anymore. And I can’t keep hiding my appearance much longer.”

Shelby desperately tries to argue. “They’re not! Avid is coming around, and Drift and Ren like you a bunch!”

“Avid’s willing to admit that I’m not a mindless beast, but he’s more convinced than ever that I’m a vampire.” Scott cuts them off before they can keep arguing. “Drift will take Avid’s side regardless of what she believes, and Ren… I’m not certain what his deal is.”

“I only temporarily regained my human appearance because of how starved I was. Now that I’ve returned to good health there’s no real way for me to hide it.” He runs a clawed finger along the pale skin under his left eye. “Going back to wearing the skull after I took it off would be suspicious.”

Surprisingly, it’s Pyro who speaks up. Shelby hadn’t been certain if he remembered how to speak at all anymore. “Well, I look like this and no one has noticed. I don’t think people pay all that much attention to each others’ eyes, and everyone in town is rather pale, actually. Oakhurst doesn’t get much sun.”

Scott tilts his head in consideration. “Hmm.”

“Well, that’s useful to know, but I’ve already moved out. Not to mention I’m growing rather tired of the charade.” Scott decides, and without waiting on further discussion he stands up from his seat and begins heading towards (what would be) a side room.

Shelby rushes to stand up and follow him, overshooting a little and having to catch themselves from falling over. “And there’s no way you’ll agree to move back?” She asks hopefully.

By Scott’s face, Shelby knows the answer before it comes. “No.”

“Then, can I move in with you?” She asks instead, and Scott’s shoulders relax some. “You are, of course, welcome here and can start making preparations to move in, but you should definitely postpone until the townspeople start getting suspicious of you.”

He says all of it like an inevitable outcome. Like the townspeople will without a doubt find out that she’s a vampire now. That they, without a doubt, will not tolerate her staying in town once they do.

That Shelby is absolutely welcome to come live with Scott again.

They wonder if those facts actually even out, or if Shelby is just overly attached to a person they’ve only known for a week short of a month.

In the end, she can’t seem to care though, and unbelievably, can’t wait for the people in town to start pointing fingers again so they can get out of that horribly empty house.

“Okay! I’ll help you build this place back up.” She offers.

If the one in town isn’t good enough, then Shelby will build a better home for them. She swore to the stars that she would, and they’re watching from above, through the missing roof and frigid cold air of the night.

—

Owen watches the townspeople from his perch on his doorstep. Butchering and preparing the meat together in preparation for winter when there will be no crops, no way to hunt if they get snowed in, and no risk free way to breed the animals without running the risk of using up all their feed.

Owen remembers the winters from when he was still human. The preparations were always the time when people were most willing to talk to him. Everyone needed firewood, and despite his illness consuming him, he was the best lumberjack by far.

He had no friends or family to spend time with, so he used the spare to get more work done.

He spied Avid and Cleo to the left of the crowd, working on preserving the crops and herbs instead. Though he had already contributed his part, and had been allowed a moment of rest, he was already getting restless.

He held no care for the humans, but old habits like to stick around, and slacking during winter preparations was the worst thing someone could do when he was still human.

Carefully, he approaches the two.

“And you truly don’t remember?” He hears Avid ask.

“Remember what?” Owen enters the conversation, sitting down next to the two creating a small, three person circle.

Avid’s mouth clicks shut and he looks to the redhead for aid. Cleo herself looks entirely unbothered and just shrugs. “My life, pretty much.” They muse, hands still nimbly working on the wheat. “Apparently I stumbled out of the woods one day, looking like a zombie, and with a giant scar on my chest. Personally I remember none of it.”

Owen hums noncommittally, though he must admit there’s curiosity trying to burrow out from under his skin.

“My family found me and took me in, and I’ve just been a simple farmer since. Whatever my past is, it’s never really affected me, so I don’t see why it matters.”

Owen disagrees. “The past matters, even when it’s long gone. It helps shape who we are.”

Cleo shrugs. “I’m shaped just fine, even without my past.”

“And you’re not the slightest bit curious?” It’s Avid who asks.

Cleo still looks mostly uninterested, but they at least consider this question before brushing it off. “A little curious, maybe, but it’s not like I’ll die if I don’t ever remember.”

“Well.” Owen feels obligated to argue. “Technically you will, eventually.”

Cleo sends a sceptical look his way. “And my mysterious past is going to change that? It’s not like knowing what chewed me up and spit me out is going to make me immortal.”

Owen smiles cautiously, though it feels like the action is ripping his skin apart. “You wouldn’t know, now would you?”

Cleo sighs, clearly done with the topic. “I suppose I wouldn’t, no.”

—

Returning to her house in the morning had felt awful after the night they’d had. She and Pyro had gotten a proper lesson on flying from Scott, the elder vampire giving tips on things Shelby hadn’t even considered, and Scott’s anger had clearly mellowed throughout the night.

Pyro himself had been practically glowing at the attention.

He was a bit weird about Scott, simultaneously admiring the man and being resentful that Scott didn’t seem to care for him too much. And as they’d been in bat form, Shelby had gotten a lot of joy from Pyro puffing up with jealousy when Scott had decided to perch on their head, looking very pleased with himself as far as bat expressions went.

Shelby doesn’t think she’ll ever get over how fluffy and cute Pyro is, though as he’d stated, Scott was somewhat smaller than him. Pyro being on the larger side of Hoary bats, and Scott on the smaller end of the vampire bats.

Which is surprising seeing as Scott is rather lanky in his human form.

Going from the easy companionship of the two vampires, to a cold and quiet house had been like a blow to the head. Part of her had wished someone would notice them sneaking back into town, that someone would question where they were all night.

When the new day properly began, Shelby struggled to find any motivation to get out of the bed she didn’t really even need to get into.

A part of them still expected to open their eyes and see Scott by the hearth, keeping the chilly air of the approaching winter at bay.

The hearth is cold now, the house equally so. Not that it matters, the cold no longer affects Shelby.

A knock sounds from the front door, and Shelby considers leaving through the back door Scott had built and escaping.

Normally, if they got visitors this early, Scott would get it and wake her if it was something they needed to know immediately.

But Scott wasn’t here, so Shelby rose from the bed, slow and idle, not particularly caring that she was keeping the person at the door waiting. They were still in their daytime clothes, not having bothered to change before wrapping herself in her blanket and burrowing their head under the pillow. They hadn’t wanted to look at the house any mire than they had to.

She’d have to wash the bedsheets now, before the weather cooled further and they would no longer dry in the free air. If that happened, Shelby would have to light the hearth, and dry them with the heat from that, and quite frankly, she really didn’t want to.

Finally dragging themselves to the door, they open it and for a moment, the violet eyes make them think Scott decided to come back after all.

But it’s just Avid.

Shelby immediately feels bad, Avid is her friend. He’s not just anything, and from the looks of him, he’d been worried, likely amplified by them not opening the door faster.

“Oh, hi Avid.” The smile she forces onto her face is quite possibly the worst one yet.

“Hey Shelby…” He seems more hesitant than normal, and it’s probably because he saw through their false cheer, but Shelby can’t help wishing he’d run the other way screaming about vampires. It’d only taken him a single glance to figure out Scott after all. “Are you okay? You’re late to winter prep.”

Shelby blinks. “That was today?”

“Yeah?” The pitch of Avid’s voice makes it sound like a question, and the amused smile playing on Shelby’s lips is a little less strained for it. “It’s not too late to join though, we can go together.” He invites.

“You can join Cleo, Owen and I in sowing winter clothes, we finished preserving the crops half an hour ago. You were one of the people who knew how to sow, right?”

Shelby nods along as they begin walking towards Ren’s old house, which had become something of a communal area. “Yeah, I can also knit and Croquet. Simple embroidery as well.”

“Perfect.” He offers them a friendly smile, and she responds in kind, feeling better and better as they get further for their house.

That is, right up until they reach Ren’s house, and Avid walks in without a thought, while Shelby is left outside with a sick feeling in the pit of their stomach.

Noticing that he lost his company, Avid returns to the door. “What’s wrong?” It isn’t an accusation, but it feels like one.

“Oh, nothing.” Her smile must have gone back to being too strained to be believable, because Avid looks at her with growing worry. “Just thinking is all. Say, is Ren here today, or is he at his new house? I’d like to talk to him.”

She’s panicking, and wishes more than anything that Scott or Pyro or even Owen were here, but Scott is ages away, and both her fellow town vampires have already gone and gotten invitations somehow.

But how? Did they just ask? How’d they ask without it being weird?

How is Shelby meant to ask if they’re allowed to enter the communal house they’ve been in before, because it technically still belongs to Ren, and she can’t just walz in because she’s helping Abolish carry chairs and that’s almost like an invitation? And sure, it’s as good as an invitation for a human, but not for a vampire.

“Righ’ here laddie, doncha kno’? What d’ya wish ta speak o’ with yer good friend Renheardt Dog?” And oh if it isn’t like the voice of an angel, approaching from the side of the house instead of inside.

“I’ll be right behind you Avid, just wanted to ask Ren about something!” She calls to him.

Avid seems hesitant, but decides to trust them and disappears once more into the depths of the house that Shelby has to somehow get into without anyone noticing that she’s struggling more than she should with such a simple task.

“So, Ren! I heard…” What have they heard? What in the world can she ask him? How did the others do this?! “that you…” What in the world is she supposed to ask?

“Invited some people over a while ago?” Stupid Shelby! That’s so suspicious!

“Aye.” Ren surprises them by agreeing. “I invited som’o the here town’people over fer a nice cup a tea, but non’ hath taken me up on it jus’ yet.”

“Yes! You did! Invite them… for tea. And I was wondering, if you’d be alright with me paying you a little visit as well. Sometime. Maybe. Uhh. At your house. Because that’s where you go when you visit someone. You go to their house.”

“A’course, yer welcome anytime Shelby the wolf tracker. Yer mine friend after all!” Ren gives them a solid pat on the back, and they just barely remember to move a little with the force.

“Oh, Thank you Ren! It means so much to me!” She gives him a quick hug. “But I should go after Avid now, he tends to worry.”

“That he does, dun he. Good lad, with a good hart, but too wound up, he is. Doncha kno’?” Ren nods along.

They bid farewell, and part ways, Shelby heading inside, and Ren heading towards the gate, back towards his home.

“Hey Avid, sorry to keep you waiting.”

Avid perks up from where he’s sitting at a small table in the corner of the room, by a small window that allows enough light to work by. “Shelby! It’s no issue! Uh, you can just grab what you need. We should have all the materials here.” He tries to somewhat sort the cacophony of things piled on the table.

“Thanks.” She takes a seat and grabs a needle and some thread. From the pile of fabrics, they select a sturdy looking ashy burgundy roll.

“Woah!” Cleo exclaims when she threads the needle. “That was fast, you barely even looked at it.”

“Oh.” Shelby blinks, gaze flickering to Owen who looks perfectly calm. “Well, you know what they say, teaching is the best way to learn! And I taught Scott to sow the other day.”

“I’d pay to see that.” Avid chucles.

Shelby pouts at the tone. “I’ll have you know he was a natural. Got it down in minutes!”

“Speaking of Scott, I haven’t seen him around.” When Cleo mentions Scott’s absence, all eyes turn to Shelby. As far as they know, the two of them are still on shared housing.

She laughs awkwardly, fidgeting with the string. “He’s been exploring a lot lately. I don’t think he knows about today, and in his defence, I also forgot, so it’s not like I was there to let him know.” Shelby really needs the topic to be discarded. They’ve never been the best at lying. “I’m not sure Scott even knows what winter prep is.”

Shelby hears Owen hum in agreement. “I’d bet, back at his mansion, he probably had everything done for him.”

The others seem to take this as the end of the conversation and return to their individual tasks.

Shelby sends a grateful smile Owen’s way, but the man isn’t looking at her. Shelby let’s the moment go and begins sowing her winter coat. Not that they’ll need it for warmth, but appearances must be kept.

If the four of them, who are the best at handiwork, keep up the pace for one or two more days they should have the (graciously small) community clothed and ready to face the cold in no time.

The real problem is footwear.

Shoemaking is complicated, and making warm shoes even more so. Shelby doesn’t know how they’ll solve that problem, but they find they’re a bit distracted from finding a solution by a more pressing concern.

Shelby is hungry.

It had, as Pyro had told her, snuck up on her. All they’d felt so far was the occasional dryness in her throat, and idle thoughts of eating that mutton Pyro had given them.

Shelby glances around at her companions. “Sorry, I’ll be right back, I just need to go use the outhouse.”

She rises from the table and leaves the room faster than strictly necessary, but Cleo was starting to look frighteningly appetising.

The house, much like all the houses in town, is small, and with most of them inside, and the rest out back there isn’t really a private corner where they could eat.

Before she can figure out how to make a getaway, a voice sounds from closer than they expected. In all the hustle and bustle they hadn’t heard Owen follow her. “The house has a basement, it’s where the meat is being temporarily stored to keep it cold.”

Seemingly having said all he meant to, Owen disappears back into the crowd.

Shelby really needs to learn how Scott and Owen do that, just disappear in the middle of a bunch of people without anyone noticing.

Taking the obvious hint, Shelby lifts the spruce trapdoor they spy near the kitchen area and climbs down the ladder.

The basement is small, only built with the intent to store items, and have enough room left over to stand in the middle. With no other option, Shelby crouches down right there in the dark and next to the ladder, and digs out the mutton.

Shoving raw meat in her mouth in such a place makes Shelby feel like the animal which the townsfolk believe vampires to be, but the mutton tastes like heaven, and alleviates the cramping pain in their stomach and the insistent ache in their teeth.

They pray they didn’t get any blood on their clothes and wipe their mouth before leaving the basement. Apo looks at her with a furrowed brow, but that likely has more to do with her being in the basement for seemingly no good reason.

Shelby just offers a smile and a shrug and notes the exact moment when Apo decides they don’t want to know.

“Shelby, are you feeling well? You’ve been acting strange today.” Avid asks her when she returns.

Shelby freezes in the middle of sitting down, and quickly realises she froze a little too much, as a human would hopefully continue breathing.

“Strange? Strange how? I haven’t been acting strange at all, why do you ask?” She says in one breath as she hurries to fully sit down.

Avid tilts his head, examining them closer. “You’ve been so quiet is all. I figured you’d still be fixated on that paw-print we found ere yesterday.”

“Oh.” In truth, Shelby had forgotten about it entirely. Being turned into a vampire had just overshadowed their previous excitement over the find.

“I’m still looking into it, is all.” She tries to distract herself from the discomforting fact that she’d forgotten something this important to her. Where had their head gone in the day she’d been a vampire?

“Okay.” Avid concedes. “Just don’t go into the woods alone. At least take Scott if you must, I’m still certain he’s a vampire, but he’d at least look after you.” He scowls as he admits this, crossing his arms.

“Well, maybe I don’t need taking care of!” Shelby huffs. She’s a vampire too now! No way is she afraid of some werewolf!

“If Shelby wishes, I’d fain accompany them. I know the woods best out of everyone in town.” Owen offers evenly.

Shelby’s not sure what his deal is. Most of the time he’s entirely civil, speaking in that soft, melodic voice like he’s trying not to startle anyone, and then all of a sudden he’s telling Scott how much he wants to massacre everyone in town.

“Well, uh. Thanks Owen. I’ll keep it in mind.” Shelby agrees tentatively.

The four of them lapse into a comfortable silence as the continue with their handiwork.

Shelby thinks they’ll gather some of the leftover textiles and store them in her house so she has something to do in case they get snowed in, though she desperately hopes that they won’t. Being stuck in that house seems as good as torture.

The fresh day drags into a tired evening, and soon enough the moon is once again showing her face.

The town divides the food they’ve prepared during the day evenly and Shelby feels as though the sack weighs far more than it actually does.

It’s all going to go to waste. All the hard work and giving her two portions, including Scott’s is like throwing it down a well. For the first time, Shelby observes something other than careful calm on Owen’s face, as he too seems uncomfortable with the food.

But there’s nothing to be done about it, so both vampires walk home, carrying their share of winter rations, and Shelby spies Pyro off to the side, trying to sneak some of his share into Apo’s bag.

They close the door to their house with a sigh, the burden of the day weighing on their shoulders.

The house is cold.

Shelby should build a basement to store the food. Perhaps they’re preserved well enough to last even past the winter, and she can sneakily distribute it after? The marinated and pickled stuff surely.

For the time being she deposits them in the chest, and goes to lie down in her bed again.

How are they supposed to stay here?

How long until the townspeople figure out she’s been turned? Can it come sooner?

—