Chapter Text
There were many times since arriving in Oakhurst that Doc wished he was a veterinarian instead of a medic.
For one, in what scattered research he was able to get his hands on (what little material Scott had was woefully out of date, though Pyro, Apo, and Abolish each had some eclectic notes for him to pour over), he had learned that Oakhurst was allegedly home to almost 60 species of bat - over twice the species diversity of the surrounding areas. Of course, he couldn't know how much of that was actually just documentation of the local vampires, but the vampires did occasionally disperse into a whole cloud of bats, and he wasn't entirely sure how that worked in terms of the local populations. Not to mention the simple general affinity the vampires seemed to have for wild bats on their own. How many vampires had introduced random species purely out of their own affection for them? Was keeping pet bats common practice amongst vampires? (His attempts at inquiring about such had fallen short - Avid and Owen didn't know, and Scott had only given a noncommittal shrug. M had insisted yes, though seemingly more for his own fiction than any true knowledge. Shelby at the very least had offered that, should given the opportunity, she would, so it wasn't completely out of possibility.) And how did the vampires and whatever increases they made to the bat populations affect the local ecosystem?
And maybe, Doc thought, swatting away errant gnats. Could they stand to affect it a little more?
Secondly, being a veterinarian would have made Doc's life significantly easier when it came to addressing the vampires in their bat forms. Sure, they would heal eventually regardless, and often all they needed was a bit of blood to get them back on their feet (er, paws? wings?), but he often wished he knew at least something more of bat anatomy to temporarily relieve their ailments until they were healed. Plus, he had no idea if injuries sustained by a vampire might persist at all, despite their accelerated healing. Pyro certainly seemed to have retained some sign of injuries he had begun collecting since their time in town began. He was missing a whole damn finger now! Doc didn't want to think of what might happen if one of their nocturnal neighbors were more severely injured and didn't reform. Especially as the Militia had begun collecting more and more weapons tailored for battle against the vampires.
Thirdly, Doc liked to think he was getting better at identifying the vampires in their bat forms. He had determined that each of their forms seemed to be unique - and not necessarily the same as the swarm they occasionally summoned upon transformation - but he wished he could identify their specific species.
For example, he could tell the bat staring at him was one of the aforementioned such characters.
Most of the bats were brown-ish, he had determined. Some more so than others. Cleo and Apo he most often got the best looks at since they transformed around him frequently; Cleo's bat form was a stark orange-brown, similar to their hair, with a darker face and wings. Apo's bat form was a redder hue for the most part, with her fur gradating light to dark from the roots to the surface, with a little halo of red around her much darker muzzle. Most of the others similarly ranged from red-oranges or pale tan to just plain brown. With one exception - that being the very grey bat before him.
Doc's initial theory had been that the size of a vampire's bat form was tied to their seniority. As far as he could tell, Shelby and Pyro's bat forms were relatively small, with Owen's being only slightly larger. This theory was, however, quickly debunked by Cleo's bat form, which was about the size of Doc's entire torso and with a wingspan that nearly rivaled his own. Cleo was already taller than him as a human, so he supposed it figured that she might as well be tall by bat standards as well.
The grey bat was the second largest of the bats he had identified as the local vampires. It had a similar build to Cleo - with small ears, big eyes, and a long snout. Also similarly to Cleo, the bat's head and nape were lighter, with darker ears and snout. It crawled with a deliberate sort of grace (a difficult thing to do, as a bat), head held high and poised in his direction, observing him like a particularly interesting specimen. Even without the slight blue twinge to its fur in the sunlight, Doc could identify this bat easily.
"Scott," he greeted, giving a nod in the bat's direction.
The bat paused its trek across the branch, bowing silently in response (if bats could imbue their actions with pomp and sarcasm, Scott was the expert) before fluttering down to his feet.
Doc had thankfully grown used to the presence of bats flying around him, allowing him to tamp down the instinct to move away and possibly step on his neighbor in the process. As much as Scott wasn't his favorite vampire in the coven, he still preferred to avoid undue harm. Scott didn't seem concerned with this though, as he continued forward and began climbing Doc's leg.
He was no stranger to bats crawling on him at this point. Even a bat as large as Cleo. He had adjusted to having little flying companions clinging to his shirt, hiding in his scrubs, or most often in Cleo's case simply draped across his shoulders. Still, he would liken Scott slowly clambering up to his chest to being slowly constricted by a python, or a viper being lowered to his face. Scott was easily the most dangerous of the vampires in Oakhurst. Their bat forms were relatively harmless, but Doc doubted that would stop Scott if he so wished. Doc could only wonder what the vampire had up his sleeve as Scott made his way up to his chest, peering up at him with round red eyes.
But Scott didn't jeer or snap at him. Instead he shifted in place, nestling himself against the doctor's chest until he was comfortable, and settled his head peacefully at Doc's collar.
The vampires could speak in their bat forms. Doc knew this. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason as to why they might be chatty one day and silent the next - though certain individuals certainly seemed to trend towards one or the other. But that seemed more respective of their human nature, rather than some vampiric quirk. Scott certainly was the kind to enjoy the sound of his own voice in human form, and had taunted the townsfolk in bat form before, so why the lack of comment? Was he injured? Sick? (They claimed to be immune to sickness, but Doc had definitely heard Owen retching after having some soup.) Hiding, in danger and seeking shelter?
So Doc stood there, awkwardly paused in the middle of the woods with a large bat resting on his chest. The most dangerous vampire of Oakhurst. The "Prime Sire." The one who had terrorized the town to the point of being sealed away for six hundred years. He… was calmly using Doc as a living nap perch.
Doc supposed the only thing he could do was begin assessing.
There was no sound of the Militia, as far as he could hear. And nothing of any other vampires or the less supernatural beasts of the forest, either. He cautiously ran a hand down the bat's back, trying not to disturb Scott as he checked him over for injuries. Scott only chirruped contently against his chest. Nothing… and Scott didn't seem distressed either, so probably not ill unless he was very good at disguising it.
What trick are you playing this time? Doc thought, continuing to pet Scott. Was he simply trying to win the doctor's favor? Lull him into a false sense of security? As much as he typically disliked the senior vampire, and as much as he loathed to admit it, Scott was quite cute snuggled up in bat form. But "cute and cuddly" was far from Scott's usual persona. Surely wouldn't he find it demeaning to resort to literally hugging the enemy in his most vulnerable form, unless he had some other intent behind it?
Doc couldn't make sense of it. But with nothing else he could do about it, he supposed he would simply have to take it in stride. He took a moment to consciously un-tense, sighing as he wrapped his coat around his passenger, and-
Oh my gods, can bats purr?