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Pyro knew as soon as Scott had entered the castle alone that he was going to kill them. Scott wasn't predictable, and Pyro had never been great at reading him, but the look in their Sire's eyes was too dark for it to mean anything else.
Scott had said before that he understood what they did, that he saw himself in Pyro. They hadn't believed him for a second, even though it was all they had wanted to hear. The elder vampire's tone was too blank for it to have been genuine.
So, even then, Pyro had known Scott would kill them.
As he approaches their seat at the table, Pyro's hands tremble in their lap. There would be no point in fighting. It wouldn't do them any good. They had been beaten too badly and knocked down too many levels to hold a candle to Scott's power.
It was terrifying, sitting there and knowing what would happen, helpless until the end.
"Pyro," Scott starts, his voice sickly sweet as he places his hand on Pyro's shoulder.
It makes Pyro want to retch, their insides twisting uncomfortably at the attention. It felt too much like all the times from before, when they would be cornered and defenseless. The only thing they could do when that happened was take the hits and wait for it to end.
Pyro isn't naive enough to believe Scott will stop at beating them.
"What have you been up to? I haven't seen you around as much."
Their throat bobs as they swallow, a shaky, unnecessary exhale escaping them. They don't reply.
Scott's claws flex, digging into Pyro's skin. They muffle the whine that bubbles up, knowing already that calling for their Sire will do nothing. It never had, not when Scott was the one who did the hurting.
It shouldn't surprise them when Scott suddenly throws their chair back, sending them flailing to the floor, but it does. Scott was always in control, but the anger that Pyro spots as they scramble backwards is the most out of it Pyro's seen him.
When Scott follows their pathetic attempt at retreat, Pyro doesn't try to fight him. The elder vampire has Pyro pinned in seconds, and they aren't stupid enough to think they ever would have gotten away. They can see the outline of a stake in Scott's pocket, and the rush of both resignation and bitter fear make it impossible to push down the instinctive whines and whimpers that are fighting to escape.
Pyro already knows the pitiful noises won't do anything, even as the little voice in the back of his mind pleads and begs to appease their Sire. Scott had never paid any mind to Pyro's fledgling status, even when they were first turned.
Not matter how many times Pyro would cry out, Scott would ignore them. It was why it had hurt so much when Scott took Shelby and Avid under his wing. They weren't even his fledglings, but he gave them more attention than he had ever bestowed onto Pyro.
It had not only reminded them of how unwanted they always were, but the new little voice in their head had been devastated. It had felt like their chest would collapse in on itself every time Scott turned them away, but that was nothing compared to awful flood of emotions that consumed them once they were alone.
Pyro thinks they've been abandoned one too many times by people who were supposed to care to still be affected, but it didn't work like that. It hurt just as much as the first time.
Just like it would hurt this time, because even as Pyro screwed their eyes shut, they could hear the shuffle of Scott's overcoat as he pulled out the stake.
When they felt the sharp point press over their heart, their hand darts up, not to stop the inevitable, but to hold onto Scott's arm. It was pathetic, to try and steal comfort from their murderer twice over, but Pyro didn't want be alone.
Like this, they could pretend Scott was holding them for another reason entirely. That Scott actually cared.
It was almost a comfort, that everything would end. That they wouldn't have a chance to ruin anything else.
That nothing would hurt them again afterwards.
It was a nice thought.