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Chapter Text

Scott sat up abruptly and hissed in pain when his head hit something hard, “Owch!” He grumbled and shoved whatever it was aside. It landed with a boom and he looked around. He was in the crypt, Shelby or Drift had probably put him there so he could rest. 

The last thing he remembered before it got fuzzy was himself tearing Owen and Pyro limb from limb after they practically bragged about killing Avid.

He got out and frowned, he felt weaker, how long had he napped? Surely Shelby and Drift wouldn’t have let him sleep long enough for him to get down to level 1. He started towards the staircase and frowned when, as he walked through the crypt, he couldn’t see any signs of the rooms his fledglings had built. 

He had a weird feeling, and when he tried to leap from the bottom of the staircase he found he couldn’t. He grumbled as he walked up the normal way, and that’s when he knew something was off for sure.

Scott looked at where the castle he had spent so much time and manual labour on should be. He didn’t know why, but he had a sinking feeling. Only one way to find out I suppose. He took off toward the town, and what he saw confirmed it. 

The town was as he saw it before the chaos started, the walls were there, the crumbled remains of buildings and not the repaired scraps the humans had built, and most importantly, every town member was in there chatting. And probably introducing themselves, he realised.

“Well this will certainly be interesting and maybe this time it’ll go my way,” he thought aloud with a grin as he made his way into town. For starters he wasn’t going to turn Pyro, and he was going to make sure Owen wasn’t a problem.

He walked into the town, and when he saw Avid waving his arms and enthusiastically talking about vampires it made his heart hurt. Sweet innocent Avid, I’ll make sure they don’t hurt you this time, he thought with a sadness that ached in his very soul.

He needed to play this strategically though, his first step was to blend in, the last time he had almost immediately gotten caught, mostly because he went too close to the beacon and it sensed his presence. 

This time he would ignore that group and join the others immediately. He walked up to them and smiled when he saw Shelby. It had been a long time since he had seen his fledgling in her human form.

“Hello! I’m Scott!” he introduced himself. “Hi! I’m Shelby, do you believe in Bigfoot? I know he’s real and I’ve come to find him!” she enthused loudly. “I don’t believe in any of that nonsense, unless I see it with my own eyes.” “That’s fair, so I’m going to prove he exists and then you can believe in him!” 

He nodded at her and looked at the rest of the group, Pearl was sharing her trauma with Ren and Martyn and he continued to talk to them, before he felt the beacon. Just as he did, the others came up to their group and he introduced himself.

It was already off to a better start! Avid wasn’t immediately accusing him of being a Vampire, so that was a plus.

After a while people started building houses, so he figured this was a good time to deal with Owen. He walked up to the other Vampire, “Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m Scott, Scott Goldsmith, and you are?” “Owen.” The stoic Vampire studied him. 

 “I would like to talk to you, care to join me for a stroll?” Owen furrowed his brow and looked Scott up and down, “Alright.” Scott smiled, “This way.” He took off in the direction of his castle, finding amusement in the way Owen scrambled to follow him.

“Why do you want to talk?” he heard Owen say from beside him. “Well you see, I know what you are, Owen.” He looked into Owen’s eyes, seeing surprise and confusion before he tried to mask it.
“W-What are you talking about?” 

Scott admired the way he tried to keep his cover. “I know you’re a Vampire, Owen, I’m not stupid, I can smell it on you,” he said. Looking back, the stench of Vampire was all over him, but Scott had chosen to believe it was nothing the first time he did this.

Owen looked at him for a moment and then realisation dawned on his face. “How old are you?” he demanded. Scott put on an affronted expression, “Rude! Don’t you know it’s impolite to ask that?” he smiled.

 “But you don’t need to know my exact age, just know I’m older than you, like way older than you. I’ve buried Vampires older than your bloodline, Owen, don’t test me.”

Owen crossed his arms, tension lingering in his shoulders, “Well, what do you want now?”
Scott smiled, sharp and cold, “Not much, just don’t turn anyone and stay away from Avid, that human is mine.” Owen frowned, “The Vampire hunter? Gladly, anything else?”

Scott looked down at him, eyes dark and ancient, “Yes, actually. If you dare to defy me or go against me, Owen, I will rip you limb from limb and feed your corpse to the wolves, and while you scream and beg for me to kill you because your vampire regeneration won’t let you die, I will laugh.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a near whisper, “I will make you watch as every part of you is shredded apart, over and over again. And when you think it is finally over, I will start again. I have all the time in the world.”

Owen’s breath stilled, and what little colour was on his face drained from it. “Are we clear?” Scott asked, each word slow and deliberate. “Yes,” Owen whispered, not daring to look away.

Chapter Text

Scott had left the conversation pretty satisfied. Owen had been dealt with and now the next thing to do was extend an offer. From what he could remember, Shelby had been pretty excited to become a Vampire since it confirmed her theory on the supernatural and made her Bigfoot theory more plausible. But then again, she had also mentioned she would have liked the choice to become one or not.

He pondered his options as he made his way back to town. Just as he reached it, he felt the sun set and sighed a little in relief. No more pesky sun for a few hours. He went over to the house Shelby had been building. “Nice… house,” he said, looking at the foundation.

“Thanks! It doesn’t have a roof yet, but I don’t want to use spruce because then there’ll be too much of it, I need a contrasting block. I was thinking of doing the roof with dark oak but then it’ll be like I’m copying the others because I know that Cleo and Pearl plan on doing dark oak…” She rambled off as she studied the structure. 

“How about some cobblestone? I can go mine some if you want.”

He suggested it without thinking. Over the time he had spent at the castle he had done a lot of manual labour for his fledglings, and he hadn’t even thought about it before offering. Shelby looked at him in surprise.

“Really? Mr ‘I don’t do manual labour’ is going to manual labour for me?” She seemed sceptical.

“I can do manual labour, it’s just I normally have people to do that, I can’t be completely helpless after all, I made it to Oakhurst in one piece.”

Shelby nodded thoughtfully. “Okay! Oh! And then we can be roommates! Since you’re already helping me build the house!”

Scott smiled. “I’d like that.”

Scott went off to mine some cobble when he saw Avid staring at him. Scott smiled and waved. Avid immediately went bright red before pretending to busy himself with something. Scott’s undead heart hurt, technically this was his Avid. But at the same time it wasn’t. 

His Avid had been killed and even though through some divine miracle he had a chance to start over. He couldn’t help but remember how it felt to have the mental string snap. A memory of why bubbled to the surface.

The explanation drifted through Scott’s mind like a half remembered dream. The memory was blurry around the edges, softened by time and distance. He could see his Sire’s silhouette more than their face, could hear the tone of their voice more than the exact sound of it. But the words had stayed with him.

“Whenever a Vampire turns someone, a connection forms,” his Sire had said. Scott remembered sitting across from them, everything hazy like fog. “It is not just physical. It ties your soul to theirs. That is why turning someone is intimate, Scott. You are choosing to share yourself.”

In the memory, light flickered from some unseen fire. His Sire’s features were washed in shadow.

“You will feel what they feel, sometimes. Not always, only when the emotion is strong. Fear, grief, joy, anger. Their heart will tug at yours. And when you turn them, you will take in a few memories. Not always clear, sometimes just imprints of important moments in their life.”

Scott remembered nodding, everything fuzzing around the edges like a smear of paint.

“And if they die,” his Sire continued, voice distant and echoing, “you will feel it as if something inside you has been broken. It is a pain you do not forget.”

The memory twisted, sharpening for just a moment as his Sire leaned closer.

“And if your fledgling turns someone, you will feel that bond too. If their fledgling dies, it will strike you with the same force.” A pause, heavy and serious. “But once it reaches your fledgling’s fledgling’s fledgling, the feeling becomes faint. Still there, but not enough to crush you.”

The last thing Scott remembered was his Sire’s silhouette placing a hand on his shoulder, firm and grounding.

“That is why we choose carefully. Every turn links us to another soul. Forever.”

And then the memory dissolved again, fading back into the present like mist.

 Scott would Always remember Avid's connection to him breaking, and even though he had a second chance to keep him safe, he would never forget how much it hurt to lose him.

By the time he was done spiralling, he gathered a decent amount (he knew from the last time he built the roof that he needed quite a bit), Shelby had finished the foundation.

 During his spiral and during the time it took him to get back to Shelby he had felt the beacons being turned divine, and he knew he needed to get some Vampires on his side quickly.

“Here you go, Shelby,” he said, handing her the cobblestone. He stayed nearby as she began placing blocks.

Shelby stacked a few cobblestone blocks, stepping back to check the angle. “Yeah, this looks way better. Thanks again, Scott.”

“No problem,” he said, leaning against one of the unfinished walls. “I’ve… been thinking about something, actually.”

She looked over with curiosity. “That sounds ominous. What’s up?”

“Well,” he said slowly, “you’ve always been pretty into the supernatural. Bigfoot, ghosts, all of that. And… vampires.”

Shelby’s eyes lit up immediately. “Oh, absolutely! I mean, come on, how could vampires not be real? They’re too cool not to exist. If I had proof, you would never hear the end of it.”

Scott laughed softly. “Right. And if, hypothetically, you were offered vampirism… how would you feel about that?”

Shelby froze mid-block placement. “Like… actually becoming one?”

“Yes,” he said, watching her closely. “If someone gave you that choice.”

She lowered the block she was holding and thought. “Well… part of me thinks it’d be awesome,” she admitted. “Super speed, super strength, immortality… being able to prove the supernatural is real? That’s like, my whole dream list.”

“But…” Scott prompted gently.

“But,” she sighed, “I don’t know if I’d choose it myself. It feels like the kind of thing you really need to be ready for. Like… you can’t undo it, y’know? And what if it changes things? What if I’m not me anymore?”

Scott nodded slowly. “That’s fair. It’s a big choice.”

Shelby looked at him, narrowing her eyes a little. “Why’re you asking? You’re not secretly a vampire, are you?” She laughed, clearly joking.

Scott gave her a small smile. “Just… curious. Wanted to know your thoughts is all.”

“Well,” she said brightly, placing another block, “if vampires were real, and one offered it to me, I’d want it to be someone I trust. Someone who’d actually help me figure it out. Someone who wouldn’t leave me to freak out alone, yknow?”

Scott’s chest tightened just slightly. “Yeah, I can understand that. Would you reveal them to the town if they offered and asked for secrecy?”

Shelby paused, leaning on one of the unfinished walls as she thought it over. “No,” she said firmly. “If they trusted me with something like that, I wouldn’t go around telling everyone. Secrets like that… they’re not mine to share.”

She placed another block, nodding to herself. “And honestly? I think it’d be kind of nice. Being trusted with something so big. I’d feel… special, I guess. Chosen.”

Scott smiled a little. “That makes sense.”

She pointed a finger at him playfully. “Why’re you asking all these vampire questions, huh? You doing research for a book or something?”

He laughed softly. “No, nothing like that. I just… wanted to know your thoughts. It’s not every day someone’s so openly enthusiastic about supernatural stuff.”

“Well, someone has to!” she said cheerfully as she grabbed more cobble from him. “Everyone else just laughs when I talk about Bigfoot or ghosts or whatever, but I know there’s something out there. Something more.”

Scott watched her for a moment. “And you’d want to be part of that? If you could?”

Shelby’s face lit up. “Are you kidding? If I found out vampires were real, or that one trusted me enough to talk to me, I’d be over the moon. It would be the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Scott nodded slowly, trying not to show how much her answer meant to him. “Good to know,” he said quietly.

Chapter Text

Scott was pleased with how his conversation with Shelby had gone. A seed was planted. Now he only had to wait and see what came of it. He had just started toward the forest to hunt when he noticed Avid heading into the woods with an axe over his shoulder.

Scott slowed. Avid’s stride looked off. Not his usual purposeful walk. There was a heaviness to it, a drag in his steps that Scott remembered all too well. He hesitated only a moment before changing direction and following him. 

He watched Avide struggle to breathe. Watched him stumble as he pushed his body past whatever the sickness inside of him would allow. He watched the hunter stumble into a tree clutching onto it tightly.

Scott watched Avid push away from the tree, trying to walk further, but his legs wobbled under him. He managed only a few steps before stumbling into another tree for support. His axe slipped from his grip and hit the ground with a sharp clang.

The sound made Avid wince. He bent forward slightly, one hand gripping the bark behind him, the other curled over his sternum. His breathing only grew harsher.

‘You should have asked for help,’ Scott thought, watching the tremor in Avid’s hands. ‘You didn’t have to deal with this alone for so long...’

Yesterday, Avid looked tired. Today, it looked like the sickness had finally caught up with him completely. Scott remembered how long Avid had ignored it last loop, how much worse it had gotten before he admitted anything was wrong at all.

Scott made his presence known by walking loudly from a distance. He watched Avid straighten quickly when he heard him approach. And then Scott lost all semblance of control.

Avid’s face was flushed, cheeks bright red. Scott did not know if it was from the walk or because he was here, but either way it did not matter. He wanted him, and Scott was never one to deny himself what he wanted, especially when the thing he wanted was ripe for the taking.

“Oh, uh, hey Scott–”

Avid did not get to finish the sentence because Scott lifted him up and crushed their mouths together. Avid’s eyes widened, then he melted into the kiss, returning it eagerly. Scott dragged his lips down Avid’s neck, savoring every small whimper and twitch. He sucked a small hickey into the skin, pleased with the sounds he was pulling from the smaller man. 

“S-Scott!” Avid gasped, and that was when Scott bit down.

His fangs sank into Avid’s neck, drawing blood, and the taste was perfection. Of course it was. His Avid was perfection.

Avid froze in his hold and tried to pull away. Scott only held him tighter and sucked deeper, drawing more blood into his mouth. He felt Avid’s struggles weaken, slow, and then stop completely. When he was sure Avid was still, Scott licked the wound closed. Placing a kiss there as he did.

He set Avid down gently against the tree and bit his own wrist open. Tilting Avid’s head back, he let his blood flow into the man’s mouth. Scott felt the change take hold almost immediately. The smell of new vampire hit him as he felt a mental 

He sat down with his back against the tree and pulled Avid into his lap. And then he waited. 

Scott didn’t have to wait long before Avid stirred. He placed a gentle kiss on the man's forehead, smiling when Avid let out a deep sigh and snuggled into him. For a brief moment, Scott let himself believe this loop might turn out differently, that maybe Avid would accept him without fear.

Unfortunately the moment shattered the second Avid realized who he was snuggling and what had happened. The small man jerked back, scrambling away from Scott’s lap. 

He pressed his back against the tree opposite Scott, breathing hard, eyes full of horror. The sight made something uncomfortable twist in Scott’s chest, sharp and wrong. He didn’t like that look on Avid’s face. He never had.

“What did you do to me?” Avid asked shakily. His voice wavered, torn between panic and disbelief.

“I turned you,” Scott said simply.

“W-why?” Avid’s fingers dug into the bark behind him as if bracing for impact.

Scott tilted his head at him, trying to keep his voice soft, comforting. “To save you.”

That wasn’t all true. He also turned him because he wanted his Avid back, wanted his Avid safe, wanted his Avid to be his. But Avid didn’t need to know any of that. Not now. Not when he looked one wrong word away from bolting, one word away from hating him forever.

“How is turning me saving me?!” Avid demanded, his voice rising, fear sharpening every syllable. “You don’t know what’s going on in my body. And if I really needed it I would have asked for help”

Scott’s throat tightened. “You wouldn’t have asked for help.” You didn’t ask me last time “You wouldn’t have told me you were sick.” You told Shelby instead of me. “You were hiding it, Avid. I couldn’t risk losing you.” Because if I lose you again I don’t think I can take it. Because if you keep looking at me like I’m a monster I think I might break.

“You don’t get to decide that.” Avid’s voice cracked, quiet and furious. “You don’t get to decide my life for me.”

Scott reached a hand out slowly, carefully, the way one might reach for a frightened animal. “Avid… I wasn’t trying to take your life from you. I was trying to keep you alive. Vamprism cures all diseases. That's why I did it.”

Avid hesitated, eyes flicking from Scott’s hand to Scott’s face. The new bond between them tugged faintly at both their emotions, a newborn thread vibrating with confusion, fear, longing, anger.

“I don’t want to be your responsibility,” Avid whispered. “I don’t even know what I am now.”

Scott swallowed hard. “You’re still you. You’re still Avid.”

“And you’re still Scott,” Avid said bitterly. “Which is the problem. You still do things without thinking and without asking.”

Scott flinched at that, just barely, but enough for Avid to see.

And for a heartbeat, the only sound between them was the wind in the trees and that for once a situation Scott Goldsmith couldn’t get himself out of simply by wishing it away.

Chapter Text

Avid

“I’m heading for some wood for our house!!” He called to Drift as he grabbed his axe and headed out the door, “Okay, be safe!” She called back from somewhere, “Yes ma’am!” He saluted the house as he headed for the woods.

He preferred these tasks alone. He didn’t like when others saw him wheeze and pant over simple things. They often asked questions he couldn’t answer and then he ended up having to lie to them. Avid had started heading deeper when his vision began to darken and his breathing became harder and louder.

Avid hadn’t meant to push himself this hard. He just needed some wood, just needed to do something to distract from the pounding sickness in his head and chest. But even a short walk had left him stumbling to lean against a tree, breathing heavily, vision swimming.

It hadn’t been this bad yesterday. Or maybe it had and he was finally too tired to pretend otherwise. His fingers dug into the bark behind him as if that alone could keep him upright. His chest rattled when he inhaled. It felt like something inside him was catching, snagging, refusing to move right.

He closed his eyes for a moment, just long enough to force his breathing into some kind of rhythm. In. Out. In again. His lungs didn’t cooperate. Every inhale scraped, every exhale trembled.

He pushed off the tree, tried to walk, managed maybe three uneven steps before the world tilted sharply. He stumbled, catching himself on another tree with a soft grunt. The axe clattered to the ground, far louder than it should have sounded.

He pressed a trembling hand to the bark beside him. He hated this. He hated feeling weak. 

And then he heard footsteps, Loud and Heavy. He looked up and saw someone he wasn’t expecting.

Scott.

Avid straightened immediately, forcing himself to look fine, look normal, look like he wasn’t seconds from sliding down the tree. His heart thudded too hard in his chest, cheeks flushing hotter than before. 

“Oh, uh, hey Scott–”

He didn’t even finish before Scott grabbed him, lifted him like he weighed nothing, and crushed their mouths together.

Avid’s eyes shot wide. Scott’s mouth was warm, demanding, impossible to resist. And Avid didn’t try to resist. Not for a second. Something in him melted instantly, kissing Scott back with a desperate eagerness he didn’t understand, and didn’t want to examine. 

Scott’s lips trailed down his neck and Avid whimpered, body reacting before his mind could catch up. Every suck, every touch, made heat coil low in his stomach and drew sounds from his mouth he tried to stop.

“S-Scott!” he gasped.

And then the fangs sank into him.

So much hit him at once. Pain. Shock. Heat. Pleasure. Fear. All tangled together making it hard for Avid to focus on just one.

Avid froze, breath caught in his throat. He tried to push Scott away, but the world was already fading around the edges. His limbs felt heavy, weak, and too far away to control.

 The more he struggled, the more he felt his strength slip through his fingers. The last thought before the darkness consumed him “I was right, Vampires are real” and then nothing.

When he floated back into consciousness, he was warm. Warm and safe and… held.

He didn’t know he was snuggling into Scott’s chest until he felt the soft kiss pressed to his forehead.

For a moment, just a moment, Avid let himself stay there. Let himself pretend this wasn’t wrong. That he wasn’t afraid. That the warmth in his chest wasn’t new and strange and terrifying.

And then reality snapped back into place.

Avid jerked back so fast he nearly tripped, scrambling away from Scott’s lap. His back hit the tree opposite him, sharp bark digging into his shoulders as he pressed himself against it, breathing hard. His vision sharpened instantly, too sharp, colors too vivid, sounds too loud. The world felt wrong. His body felt wrong.

Most terrifying of all, Scott looked at him like this was normal. Like this was fine.

“What did you do to me?” Avid asked, voice shaking so badly he barely recognized it.

“I turned you,” Scott said calmly. Too calmly. And it made Avid’s head swim.

“W-why?” Avid’s fingers curled against the bark until his nails hurt. He felt exposed. And cornered. And felt the eyes across from him looking at him with an intensity that made his head swim with thoughts that were not appropriate for the situation at hand. 

Scott tilted his head, gentle, patient. “To save you.”

Save him. Save him? Save him from what? From being sick? From dying? From being human? He didn’t know what he wanted the answer to be.

“How is turning me saving me?!” Avid’s voice cracked, rising with panic he couldn’t contain. “You don’t know what’s going on in my body. And if I really needed it I would have asked for help!”

“You wouldn’t have asked for help.” Scott’s voice stayed level but Avid could see something tight in his eyes. “You wouldn’t have told me you were sick. You were hiding it, Avid. I couldn’t risk losing you.”

“You don’t get to decide that.” Avid’s voice broke, the fear softening into something sharp and aching. “You don’t get to decide my life for me.”

Scott reached out slowly. Carefully. The gesture should have comforted Avid. It didn’t. It terrified him. Because something inside him pulled toward that hand. Toward him.

“Avid… I wasn’t trying to take your life from you,” Scott murmured. “I was trying to keep you alive. Vamprism cures all diseases. That's why I did it.”

Avid hadn’t known that. He supposed it made sense. He hadn’t ever heard of a vampire getting sick after all.

Avid hesitated. The new thread between them, whatever it was, whatever Scott had done to him, tugged softly, urging him to move closer, to trust, to lean in. It made his chest feel full and empty at the same time. Confusion. Fear. Anger. Something he didn’t want to name.

“I don’t want to be your responsibility,” Avid whispered. “I don’t even know what I am now.”

Scott swallowed. “You’re still you. You’re still Avid.”

“And you’re still Scott,” Avid said, bitterness slipping out before he could stop it. “Which is the problem. You still do things without thinking and without asking.”

Scott flinched. A tiny flicker of hurt flashed across his face.

And for one long, unbearable heartbeat, the only sound was the wind in the trees and the quiet, suffocating weight of a choice Avid never got to make.

Chapter Text

Scott had sat there staring at Avid long enough for the sun to sink behind the hills. The shadows stretched across the small cabin, cool and quiet, and Scott still had not found a steady breath. He finally forced the words out.

“Are you going to tell the town?” he asked. He tried to keep his voice even, but it still came out tight. “About what I am. About what I did to you.”

Avid didn’t answer. His eyes were distant, unfocused, like he was still trying to make sense of the world that had shifted beneath him. Scott watched him with a knot in his chest so tight he could barely speak.

When Avid finally looked at him, his expression was unreadable. “No,” he said slowly. “I’m not going to tell anyone.” His gaze dropped to his hands. “Besides… I’m a vampire now too. If I tell the town about you…I’m telling them about myself.”

His voice cracked slightly at the end, quiet and unsteady. Scott felt something twist inside him. The guilt was familiar.

Then Avid lifted his head again, and the question that left him made Scott’s breath stop.

“Scott… how did you know I was sick?”

Scott froze. Of all the things Avid could have asked, he had not expected that one. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, struggling to decide how much truth Avid could handle.

“I… don’t think you would believe me,” he said finally. His shoulders tightened. “Even if I told you.”

Avid stared at him for a long moment. “Try me.”

Scott let out a short, humourless breath. Somehow that little challenge made it easier to speak.

“Alright.” He folded his hands in his lap, eyes fixed on the floor. “I’ve done this before. I lived this entire timeline”

Avid blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve lived this timeline before,” Scott repeated. The words felt heavy, but freeing somehow. “I’ve lived through you being turned. I’ve lived through losing you. I watched you die at the hands of a monster I created.” His voice dropped, rough with old wounds. “I didn’t handle it well. I ripped the person who did it to you, I tore their limbs off. And I would do it again if I had to.” 

The memory slammed into Scott like a blow to the face.

“Shelby, please!” Pyro cried, his voice cracking as it echoed through the crypt. “Please. I was trying to keep our family alive. I was only getting rid of a liability.”

Shelby stopped a few paces away from him.

Scott stood just behind her, close enough that her shoulder brushed his chest. He could feel it immediately. The stillness. The way she was standing too straight, too loose, like she was only half inside herself. Her eyes were fixed on Pyro, but they looked unfocused, glassy, as if she were staring through him instead of at him.

Something twisted in Scott’s chest.

“Family,” Shelby repeated quietly. The word sounded hollow in her mouth. She didn’t sound angry. She didn’t sound pleased. She sounded distant, like she was reciting something she barely understood.

Pyro nodded frantically. “Yes. I did it for us. For you. I love you.”

Scott’s hand lifted before he realized it, resting on her shoulder. Not to stop her. Just to remind her he was there.

Shelby didn’t look back.

Her lips twitched, almost like she was trying to remember how to smile. “You keep saying that,” she said. “Love. Family.” She tilted her head slightly. “You say it like it explains things.”

She crouched in front of Pyro, movements slow and deliberate. Her eyes tracked him, but there was no curiosity there. No delight. Just a strange, empty focus.

“You killed someone,” she continued, voice level. “And you decided that was acceptable because you were afraid.”

“I was protecting us,” Pyro sobbed. “I swear I was. You have to believe me.”

Behind her, Scott swallowed hard. This was not Shelby who laughed too loud or teased without mercy. This was the Shelby who had gone quiet, who slipped somewhere when her bond with her fledgling broke. 

He himself had experienced it. He knew how broken the inside of her felt. But he let her take control, he knew she needed that much after a fledgling bond broke.

“Shelby,” he said softly.

She nodded once, like she had heard him through water.

“Hold him,” she said, without turning.

Scott moved instantly. He grabbed Pyro from behind and hauled him upright, locking an arm across his chest and pinning his arms. Pyro screamed and thrashed, but Scott did not loosen his grip. Shelby stood and stepped closer, stopping just inches from Pyro’s face.

The ancient words came next.

As Shelby spoke them, Scott felt a sharp pang of memory. Candlelight in a quiet room. Shelby sprawled on the floor, repeating the sounds wrong on purpose just to make him sigh. Scott correcting her pronunciation, patient despite himself. Her laughter filling the space every time she finally got it right.

Now she spoke them perfectly.

“Pyro,” Shelby said, her voice dropping, flattening, “uoY esud ot be my nedrif but uyo erdinu thta hnew uoy koot my ifdlgegnl yaaw. oYu reew ym rise, anemt to dguie me nda phel em tbu taesind oyu did hte ortws nhtig ipsaVmer cna do ot chae toehr. I eohp thta you edn pu ni eht sdepeet ipt ni the rordenwdul. obeodGy. I serev uor dbno”

Scott tightened his hold as the magic rippled outward. Shelby did not react. No shiver. No smile. Just that same distant calm.

Pyro sobbed, choking on his own breath. “Please. I did this for our family.”

Shelby stared at him for a long moment.

Then she reached up and gripped his throat.

“I know,” she said quietly. “That is why this ends.”

She killed him with swift, efficient movements, like she was following instructions rather than emotion. Scott held Pyro steady the entire time, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed on Shelby’s face instead of the blood darkening the stone below.

When it was over, Scott let the body fall.

Shelby stepped back slowly. She wiped her hands on her skirt, her movements automatic, detached. She did not look at what she had done. She did not look at Scott either.

“He will not hurt anyone else,” she said, flat and distant.

Scott’s hand stayed on her shoulder, firmer now.

“I have you,” he said quietly, even if he did not know whether she could hear him.

The world blurred at the edges, the crypt fading away as reality took hold.

Scott blinked back to reality, the memory temporarily disorienting him before he focused back on Avid.

Avid didn’t move. His eyes were wide, but he didn’t interrupt. Scott took that as permission to continue.

“You had asked someone close to you to turn you. You said it was because you kept having moments where you would disassociate and when you came back you were covered in blood. You asked the person to turn you to save you from becoming a worse monster than a Vampire.”

Avid’s expression flickered through disbelief, confusion, fear, sympathy, and back again. Scott couldn’t read him, and that terrified him, but he forced himself to keep talking.

“I turned you to save you,” Scott said softly. “Because I can’t…” Scott’s voice cracked and he swallowed, ignoring the red swimming in the bottom of his eyes, he wiped away the tears and continued “I can’t live in a world where you aren’t around.”

Avid sat very still, breathing slowly like he was trying to keep himself grounded. “You’re telling me you lived through all of this already,” he said quietly. “Including… my death?”

“Yes.”

Avid swallowed hard. “And you created the thing that killed me?”

Scott shut his eyes for a moment. “Yes. I created him”

“But you didn’t mean to.”

“No.” Scott shook his head. “But intention doesn’t matter. I was responsible. So I made sure he never existed this time. And I made sure you wouldn’t die again.”

The cabin fell into a heavy silence. Avid stared at his knees, thoughts racing behind his eyes.

After a long moment he said, “If I had died again… you would have felt it?”

“Yes and no,” Scott answered. “Emotionally, yes. But if you had been my fledgling… losing you would have felt like losing a part of myself.”

Avid’s breath hitched. “Then how did you handle it the first time?”

Scott looked away and when he spoke it was a broken whisper. “I didn’t.”

Avid let that sit for a while. The cabin creaked softly with the cooling night air. Scott could hear Avid’s breathing, could feel the way his presence shifted closer without him seeming to notice.

“Scott,” Avid said finally, “I don’t know how to react to all of this. It feels impossible. Like a story instead of something real.” 

“I know,” Scott murmured. “You don’t have to understand it right away. I just needed you to know the truth. Even if you walk away after this.”

Avid looked sharply at him. “I’m not walking away.”

Scott blinked, surprised.

Avid rubbed the back of his neck, searching for the right words. “I’m scared. I’m confused. My entire life is gone, and nothing makes sense, and I feel like I’m supposed to be furious with you and I am but…” He shook his head. “I don’t hate you.”

The relief hit Scott like a punch. His shoulders sagged, and he bowed his head to hide the way his eyes burned. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Avid hesitated. Then he spoke again, soft but steady. “I mean it. I don’t hate you. I don’t think I can. You saved me. And… even if everything you said sounds impossible, I can tell you’re not lying.”

Scott laughed quietly, breath shaking. “I’m glad you can.”

Avid shifted a little closer, enough that Scott could feel the warmth of him. “But I do need time,” he said. “To figure out what any of this means. What being a vampire means. What… we are now.”

Scott nodded. “You can have all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere. Not this time.”

Avid stared at him for a moment, as if searching for something in his eyes. Then his shoulders relaxed.

“Good,” he whispered.

Scott almost didn’t hear it, he wouldn’t have if he couldn’t hear so well. But he felt the weight behind it. Something fragile, but real. Something that wasn’t hatred or anger or fear.

Something that felt like.. Dare he say hope?

For the first time in more lifetimes than he cared to count, Scott allowed himself to believe that maybe he had not lost Avid after all.

Chapter Text

“Scott, please!” Pyro shrieked, the voice splintering through Scott’s mind. “Please Sire! I was only getting rid of a liability!”

Scott barely heard him. It felt like he was standing somewhere just behind his own ribs, watching himself move through the crypt as though dragged by a tide he couldn’t fight. His boots scraped over stone, slow and deliberate, until he stood before the trembling fledgling.

“You…” Scott’s voice rang sharply through the cavern, echoing like metal striking metal. “You will never understand what you took from me. He was the only person who loved me.”

“S-Sire, wait- please!” Pyro sobbed, clutching at the floor as though the stone itself might save him. “I love you, I do!”

Scott’s expression didn’t flicker. “No. You feared me. And you were right to.”

Behind him, Shelby let out a low, delighted giggle, soft, airy, and entirely out of place in the tension. She stepped up beside him, eyes bright in the dim light.

“Oh, I like this Scott,” she said cheerfully. “About time someone shut him up.”

Pyro’s gaze snapped toward her, horrified, but Shelby only crouched to his level, tilting her head as if examining a broken toy. “You caused all this, you know. Kind of funny, isn’t it?”

“Shelby,” Scott said quietly.

She stood immediately, brushing dust from her hands. “Right. You do the ripping. I’ll keep him still.”

Before Pyro could scramble away, Shelby’s foot pressed down between his shoulder blades with casual ease, pinning him to the stone floor. Her smile widened when he screamed.

“Stop moving,” she sang. “It’s rude.”

Scott stepped closer. The ancient words rose in his throat- not practiced, not remembered, but pulled up from something older than memory.

“oryP,” he began, voice deepening, “I evah detsaw ym emit no uoy. I epoh uoy nrub ni lleh dna eht stirips nodnaba uoy.”

Shelby shivered in delight. “Oh, that sounded nasty.”

Pyro thrashed, but Shelby’s weight didn’t budge. Scott reached down, grabbing the fledgling by the throat. Pyro’s breath hitched as Scott lifted him with effortless strength.

“Scott- Sire- please-!”

Scott’s grip tightened. Tears blurred his vision, but his voice stayed icy, steady, merciless. “You brought this on yourself.”

Shelby leaned in beside him, still smiling, still bright-eyed. “Go on,” she whispered. “Finish it. I’m right here.”

And Scott did.

He tore into Pyro with a brutal precision that left no room for hesitation. Stone darkened beneath them. Shelby stayed close, steadying him, holding Pyro in place when his limbs jerked, humming quietly under her breath as though this were nothing more than helping a friend carry out a chore.

When it was done, Scott staggered back, tears cutting silent tracks down his face. Shelby wiped her hands on her skirt, then looked at him with a small, perfectly satisfied nod.

“Good,” she said softly. “He won’t hurt anyone again.”

And then the world had faded. Disappearing before his very eyes.

Chapter Text

It had been a couple of days since Scott had turned Avid, and true to his word, he’d been giving his fledgling space. 

He’d taught him how to hunt, how to bat, and to Scott’s surprise Avid had been far less resistant this time. It was… reassuring. Comforting, even. But Scott didn’t want to push it.

Today, he had something else to do.

He was on his way to Shelby’s house to fully extend the offer he’d hinted at before. He’d planted the idea, let it settle, and now he wanted to see how it had grown.

He found her kneeling on the floor, spreading mud in careful strokes.

“Heya!” he called.

Shelby jumped and spun around, clutching her chest. “Scott!! You scared me!” She laughed breathlessly.

“My bad,” he said, smiling. “Was wondering if you wanted to go fishing at the river?”

Shelby glanced at the unfinished patch of floor, then quickly smoothed the last bit of mud and tugged a moss carpet over it. She beamed up at him. “Ready when you are.”

They headed out, and Shelby immediately launched into a cheerful ramble about cryptids and strange creatures she’d catalogued in her research. 

Scott nodded along, but his mind was elsewhere. Her voice was comforting, familiar… and yet his thoughts churned underneath every word.

What if she says no…?

The idea hollowed him out. He didn’t want to imagine an eternity without Shelby in it.

They reached the river, and Scott took a slow breath, trying to shake the nerves coiled in his chest.

“You’re a Goldsmith,” he murmured to himself. “Act like it.”

Shelby cast her line easily, turning to watch the water. Scott looked down at the fishing rod in his hands.

“Alright… time to figure this thing out.”

He peeked at Shelby, studying the motion she’d made. A simple throw. Easy enough.

It was in fact not that simple. He watched his fishing rod leave his hands entirely, spinning once before splashing into the river and sinking out of sight. Shelby stared after it, her eyes wide.

Then she broke into laughter.

Scott covered his face with one hand. “Please do not say anything.”

But Shelby was already wheezing. “Scott… you threw the whole rod.” She bent over, laughing harder. “Not the line. The whole rod.”

“I am aware,” he muttered.

She wiped her eyes and tried to breathe, but every time she glanced at the ripples left behind she started giggling again. “I mean… how does someone even manage that?”

Scott didn’t answer. He looked into the river. His reflection looked like he regretted every life decision that brought him to this moment.

“Okay, okay,” Shelby said, still chuckling as she rummaged in her bag. “Good thing I came prepared.” She pulled out a second rod with an air of triumph. “I bring extras because, well… I know you.”

Scott gave her a resigned look. “I am not sure if that is an insult.”

“It absolutely is,” Shelby said cheerfully. “Now come here.”

She stepped up beside him and took the rod, adjusting his grip like she was teaching a kid how to use crayons. “Alright, not a throwing motion. You’re not trying to launch it into orbit. It’s more of a… gentle sweep. Nice and smooth.”

Scott did his best to follow her directions as she re-positioned his elbows and shoulders.

“There,” Shelby said. “Now cast.”

Scott inhaled and tried. The line flicked forward, landing in the water where it bobbed neatly.

Shelby clapped once. “Yes! See? That’s how it’s supposed to go.”

Scott exhaled in relief. “Thank the heavens.”

“Hey, improvement is improvement,” Shelby said. “And you didn’t sacrifice this rod to the river deity, so I call that a win.”

Scott glanced at her. “Please do not tell the others about this.”

Shelby grinned. “Absolutely telling the others.”

“Shelby.”

“Oh, right, sorry. I meant absolutely not telling the others.”

Scott stared.

She cracked a smile. “Maybe.”

Scott watched his rod bob in the water and took a deep breath.

 “Y’know the other day when we were talking about Vampires.” He said, trying to seem like he wasn’t about to freak out.

“Yeah of course! What about it?”

Scott took a deep breath and tried settling his nerves. “I am a vampire.” He said. There was silence by the river. Nothing else made a sound.

“Oh. Cool!” Scott looked over at her in surprise “Cool? That’s it?” He was baffled at her response. “Well I mean it’s kinda obvious.” She said, reeling in her line.

“You’re paler than snow, you don’t eat in front of anyone, whenever someone eats garlic you stay away from them for the rest of the day.” She took a breath and continued.

 “You never go into anyone else’s house unless given express permission, you look miserable during the day but happy at night, your eyes are red, your clothes look very out of fashion, they look good but not up to date with what noblemen wear.”

Scott opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “…You noticed all that?”

Shelby shrugged, still reeling her line in. “Scott, I study cryptids. You think I wasn’t going to clock the vampire living in the town?”

“That is… fair,” he admitted quietly, though he still felt a little dazed. He had prepared himself for fear, for disbelief, for a million questions. Not… this.

Shelby tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Oh! And you hissed at the sun that one time.”

“I did not hiss,” Scott protested.

“You absolutely hissed.”

“I made a displeased noise.”

“That was a hiss, Scott.”

Scott stared at her for a minute before shaking his head. “Whatever…I was wondering..Shelby you’re one of my closest friends…I- Do you want to be turned?” 

Shelby paused and looked deep in thought. “Okay…Sure!” She looked up at him and he blanched. “Really?” He asked surprised, he expected to have to go on a long talk and try and convince her.

 “Well it makes sense, then I have more time to look for crytids!!” Shelby casted her rod again after taking the fish off and putting it to the side. 

Stunned, sort of speechless Scott wished this was how he had gone about it in the first loop, then Shelby would be his fledgling and he wouldn’t have had to deal with the awkward first couple of weeks where Shelby was always on high alert waiting for him, Owen or Pyro to attack her.

“Do you want me to do it now…or later?” He asks the question hesitantly. As if trying not to spook a stray dog. 

“Will I need a moment to recover?” she asked contemplatively, “An hour at most and about half is the minimum.” He replied evenly. 

“Alright. Turn me” She smiled at him “I trust you!” Scott’s undead heart hurt. If only this was the way he had done it the first time. 

Scott nodded once, sharp and decisive, before he could talk himself out of it.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “Then listen to me.”

Shelby’s smile softened, curiosity bright in her eyes, but she did as he asked. She set the rod aside and stepped closer, boots crunching softly on the riverbank stones.

“This will hurt,” Scott warned, honest as always. “Not for long. But I need you to tell me if it’s too much. I won’t finish it if you say stop.”

Shelby tilted her head, studying his face the way she always did when cataloguing something new. “Okay,” she said simply. “I can handle pain. Probably. Maybe. You’ll stop if I pass out, right?”

“Yes,” Scott said immediately. “I promise.”

That seemed to satisfy her. She nodded once, then surprised him by sitting down on a flat rock and patting the space beside her. “Well? Don’t make it dramatic.”

Scott huffed out a weak breath and sat, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched. He could hear her heartbeat now, steady, warm, alive. It made his fangs ache.

“Ready?” he asked.

Shelby looked up at him, eyes bright and trusting. “Ready.”

Scott turned, careful, and leaned in. He paused just long enough for doubt to flicker through him, just long enough to remember every time this had gone wrong before.

Then he bit.

Shelby gasped sharply, fingers clutching into his sleeve. The taste of her blood hit him all at once, clean, bright, electric. Scott forced himself to drink slowly, evenly, counting each swallow in his head the way he had taught himself to do.

Shelby made a soft, startled sound, more breath than voice. “Oh. Wow. That’s… cold.”

“I’ve got you,” Scott murmured, one arm bracing her as her strength started to waver. “You’re doing great.”

Her grip tightened, then loosened. Her heartbeat fluttered under his senses, slowing, dimming. Scott pulled back before it could fade completely, breath shaking despite himself.

He didn’t hesitate. He bit into his own wrist and pressed it to her mouth.

“Drink,” he said gently.

Shelby barely hesitated. She swallowed reflexively at first, then more deliberately, brows knitting as the change began to take hold. Her body shuddered once, hard, and then went slack against him.

Scott held her as she went still.

For a while it was silent. Scott counted the minutes. ‘29, 30, 31, 32..’

Just as was about to reach 33 minutes Shelby’s eyes flew open, glowing faintly red in the shade of the trees. She sucked in another breath she did not need and stared at her hands like they were brand new.

“…Huh,” she said.

Scott let out a breath he had not realized he was holding. “How do you feel?”

Shelby flexed her fingers slowly, experimentally. “Cold. Hungry. Kind of amazing?” She looked up at him and grinned, fangs flashing. “Is this normal?”

Scott laughed, short and breathless. “Unfortunately, yes.”

Shelby leaned back against the rock, staring up at the sky through the trees. “This is going to make my research so much easier.”

Scott shook his head, smiling despite the ache in his chest. He sat beside her, steady and close, keeping watch as the river flowed on like nothing in the world had changed.

But everything had.

Chapter Text

Owen Pov

Owen was in trouble.

He hadn’t been taught how to hunt. Louis had never gotten the chance to train him, and now the hunger sat in his chest like a blade, twisting sharper with every passing hour. It was Goldsmith’s fault, every bit of it. Owen knew how to kill humans, how to drain them clean and fast. Animals, though? They were a nightmare.

Every time he tried, something went wrong. The animal escaped. Or a human wandered too close, forcing Owen to cook the meat afterward because eating it raw raised questions. Too many questions.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, he could feel it whenever Goldsmith turned someone. The pull in his bones, the ache in his teeth. Avid. Shelby. Two townsfolk. Two fresh sources of blood he wasn’t allowed anywhere near.

It made the hunger worse.

By the third hunt of the day, Owen had given up on staying near town. The scent of blood there was unbearable…warm, alive, pounding just beneath skin. One slip and he’d lose control completely.

He was walking through the dead woods when the hunger hit him hard, sudden and blinding.

“Screw it,” Owen muttered. “If I don’t eat now, I’m done.”

He stopped thinking and let instinct take over. He inhaled sharply, sorting through rot and damp earth until he caught it. Human. Faint, but close.

Pyro.

The scholar was chopping pale oak, his back turned, unaware. Owen barely registered Pyro starting to turn, mouth opening to speak, before Owen slammed into him.

They hit the ground hard. Owen’s fangs were already buried in Pyro’s neck.

Blood flooded his mouth, hot and overwhelming. He drank greedily, hands gripping the man’s coat as Pyro struggled beneath him. Owen barely felt it. The taste drowned out everything else, thought, guilt, fear. It was the best thing he’d ever had.

Then the flow slowed.

Stopped.

Owen froze.

“No-! Shit- no, no,” he gasped, panic crashing all at once. Pyro lay limp beneath him, eyes unfocused.

Owen didn’t think. He slashed his own wrist open with shaking claws and pressed it to Pyro’s mouth, forcing it open until he saw the swallow. New blood pulsed out, cold and wrong and his.

The bond snapped into place like a breaking bone.

Owen hissed through his teeth. Scott would feel that. There was no avoiding it.

He stared down at Pyro for half a second longer…too long…then he bolted.

He ran deep into the dead woods, branches tearing at his coat, breath ragged though his lungs didn’t need it. He didn’t slow until the forest swallowed him whole.

Owen knew what he was now.

A dead vampire walking.

And all he could do was hope Scott would be too distracted by the new fledgling to come looking for him.

Pyro Pov

Pyro hadn’t meant to be gone long.

The dead woods always made his skin crawl, but pale oak was hard to come by anywhere else, and he needed to finish his flooring. He set his pack down, rolled his shoulders, and lifted the axe. The first strike rang out sharp and clean. Then another. The steady rhythm calmed him, just a little.

He never heard the thing that came for him.

The impact drove the air from his lungs. The axe slipped from his hands as he hit the ground hard, pain blooming across his back. Before he could scramble away, weight crushed him down and something tore into his neck.

The pain was immediate and overwhelming.

Pyro tried to scream, but it came out as a broken gasp. His hands scrabbled uselessly against his attacker’s coat, his vision blurring as heat drained from his body. The forest spun. The sky fractured. His thoughts scattered, slipping away no matter how hard he tried to hold on to them. He was numb for a terrifying moment. 

Nothing. That's all there was, he was slipping somewhere deeper and deeper until he was brought back sharply to the sensation of something being pressed to his mouth. Liquid flooded in, bitter and burning, and his body swallowed on instinct. The sensation burned its way down his throat and into his chest.

Darkness swallowed him whole.

When Pyro woke, he couldn’t breathe.

His body jolted upright with a sharp gasp that never quite finished, his chest heaving even though no air seemed to move. His hands flew to his throat. His heart wasn’t racing. It wasn’t doing anything at all.

That realization cracked something in him.

His vision tunneled. The forest pressed in too close, every sound too loud, every smell too sharp. Blood was everywhere. In the dirt. On his clothes. In the air. The hunger hit hard and fast, clawing up his throat until he gagged.

No no no no-

His hands shook violently as he dragged them through his hair, breath hitching in short, useless bursts. He couldn’t make his lungs work. He couldn’t think. His body felt wrong, hollow and burning all at once.

Footsteps crunched nearby.

Pyro flinched hard, curling in on himself, arms wrapped around his head as panic surged. His vision blurred with tears he couldn’t quite shed.

A voice cut through the noise.

“Hey. It’s alright.”

Low. Steady. Familiar.

Pyro didn’t look up. He couldn’t. His shoulders shook as his breath stuttered, sharp and uneven, fingers digging into his sleeves like he might tear himself apart.

“Pyro,” the voice said again, closer now but not rushing. “You’re safe. No one’s touching you.”

Hands hovered near him, close enough to feel the warmth without actually making contact.

“Look at me,” Scott said gently. “You don’t have to talk. Just listen.”

Pyro’s breathing hitched, but the voice didn’t leave.

“In through your nose,” Scott murmured, slow and deliberate. “Out through your mouth. You don’t need air, I know it feels wrong, but your body will follow if you give it a second.”

One beat. Then another.

Pyro’s breaths didn’t smooth out right away, but they stuttered less, the sharp edge dulling as Scott kept talking, grounding him in the sound of it.

“You’re in the dead woods,” Scott continued. “It’s night. You were chopping wood. Your axe is on the ground to your left. You’re not alone.”

Pyro’s fingers twitched. His shoulders lowered a fraction.

“That burning in your throat,” Scott said softly, “that’s hunger. It’s frightening, but it won’t kill you. I won’t let it.”

The pressure in Pyro’s chest eased just enough for him to draw a fuller breath. His vision slowly widened, the forest coming back into focus piece by piece.

Scott finally knelt in front of him, careful, unthreatening. He held out his hand, palm up.

“Can I touch you?”

Pyro hesitated, then gave a shaky nod.

Scott’s hand settled on his shoulder, solid and steady. The contact anchored him. The shaking didn’t stop completely, but it slowed.

“There you go,” Scott said quietly. “You’re doing good. I’ve got you.”

And for the first time since he’d woken up, Pyro believed him.

Scott Pov

Scott felt it the moment it happened.

The pull in his chest snapped tight, sharp and unmistakable, like a hook buried deep in his ribs. Fresh blood. New death. New turning.

His head lifted slowly. The night had been quiet, too quiet, and now it wasn’t.

“Dammit,” he muttered, already moving.

The dead woods greeted him with the stench of fear before he even saw the body. Panic clung to the air, raw and frantic, tangled with the metallic bite of blood. Scott slowed his steps as he followed it, forcing himself to breathe evenly. Rushing would only make it worse.

Then he saw him.

Pyro was curled in on himself near the fallen tree, hands tangled in his hair, shoulders shaking. His chest hitched in shallow, broken motions that didn’t draw breath at all. 

“Hey. It’s alright.”

He kept his voice low and steady. Pyro didn’t need too much stimulation. The wood was probably already overwhelming. 

“Pyro,” He voice said again, drawing closer keeping his voice level. “You’re safe. No one’s touching you.”

Scott’s hands hovered near him, close enough to almost touch him but far enough he wasn’t.

“Look at me,” Scott said gently. “You don’t have to talk. Just listen.”

“In through your nose,” Scott murmured, slow and deliberate. “Out through your mouth. You don’t need air, I know it feels wrong, but your body will follow if you give it a second.”

After a beat or two when Pyro’s breaths seemed steady enough he continued. Gathering evidence from the scene around him Scott spoke.

“You’re in the dead woods,” Scott continued. “It’s night. You were chopping wood. Your axe is on the ground to your left. You’re not alone.”

He watched Pyro twitch on instinct and his shoulders lower.

“That burning in your throat,” Scott said softly, “that’s hunger. It’s frightening, but it won’t kill you. I won’t let it.”

Scott watched the pressure in Pyro’s shoulders ease and his breaths even out more.

Scott finally knelt in front of him, careful, unthreatening. He held out his hand, palm up.

“Can I touch you?”

Pyro hesitated, then gave a shaky nod.

Scott’s hand settled on his shoulder, solid and steady. Making sure the fledgling was okay before he spoke again.

“There you go,” Scott said quietly. “You’re doing good. I’ve got you.”

Scott sighed internally, while he hadn’t intended to turn Pyro he was turned now and there wasn’t anything he could do. ‘What am I to do _ _ _?” 

Chapter Text

Shelby POV

Shelby had been hunting with Avid, chatting easily as they moved through the trees, when she felt it.

New blood.

The sensation tugged at her instincts, sharp and unmistakable, pulling her toward the dead woods. Shelby frowned and slowed, one hand lifting without thinking. She glanced at Avid. They did not speak. They did not need to. They nodded once, then shifted.

Two bats took to the air, flying close together as they followed the pull.

Shelby dropped first, her bat form slipping away as she glided down to the forest floor with practiced ease. A moment later there was a much less graceful thump behind her.

She turned, hands on her hips. “Did Scott not teach you how to glide?” she asked, a teasing edge lacing her voice.

“No…” Avid mumbled from the dirt.

Shelby giggled. “You’ll have to get him to teach you.” She offered him a hand and hauled him upright, then paused as the pull tightened in her chest. It felt wrong. She swallowed and nodded deeper into the woods. “Come on.”

They did not laugh much after that.

They reached the clearing and Shelby stopped short.

Scott stood among the trees, holding Pyro close to his chest. The newest vampire was limp in his arms, head tipped back slightly, dark hair matted with dried blood at the collar. Scott’s posture was rigid, protective, like he might shatter if he loosened his grip even a fraction.

“Scott,” Shelby said softly, the word slipping out before she could think. “What happened?”

“Owen turned him while he was chopping wood,” Scott replied quietly. “He was starving. Pyro was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He adjusted his hold, careful, controlled. “He is not taking the transformation well. I fear he may not be able to speak with how much damage there was to his throat.”

Shelby’s stomach twisted. She stepped closer without thinking, eyes fixed on Pyro’s throat. The skin was already healing, smoothing over, like it was trying to hide something.

“Oh,” she said helplessly. “Oh no.”

She reached out, then hesitated, fingers hovering uselessly before lightly touching Pyro’s shoulder. He did not stir.

“That’s… that’s really bad,” she said, then winced at herself. “I mean. I don’t know what I mean. I just.” She looked up at Scott, searching his face. “He’s still here, though. Right?”

“Yes,” Scott said. “He is still here.”

Shelby nodded quickly, clinging to that. “Okay. Okay, that’s good. That’s something.”

Pyro shifted suddenly, a sharp jerk that made Shelby flinch. A thin, broken sound slipped from his throat. Not a word. Not even close.

Shelby felt panic spike, bright and useless. “He’s waking up,” she said. “Scott, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do.”

Scott tightened his grip. “He will panic,” he said calmly. “The hunger and the silence will overwhelm him.”

“Great,” Shelby muttered. Then, louder, trying to sound steady, “Okay. We can handle panic. I can do panic.”

Pyro’s eyes fluttered open.

The moment awareness hit him, everything went wrong. His gaze snapped around wildly. He tried to speak. Nothing came out. His hands clawed at Scott’s coat, fingers digging in as his body went rigid.

Shelby’s heart lurched. “Hey,” she said quickly, stepping closer. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re not alone.”

Pyro’s eyes locked on her. Terror flooded them.

Scott shifted slightly, angling Pyro so he could see both of them. “Pyro,” he said firmly. “You are safe. Listen to me.”

Pyro shook his head hard, mouth opening in a soundless scream.

Shelby swallowed and forced herself to keep her voice gentle. “Okay, okay. We’re gonna slow this down. You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to do anything.”

She looked at Scott, panic flickering across her face. “I don’t know the vampire way to do this.”

Scott met her eyes. “Use what you know.”

Shelby nodded, then focused back on Pyro. “Alright,” she said softly. “We’re going to do a grounding thing. Just listen.”

She raised one finger. “First. Look around and find five things you can see.”

Pyro’s gaze darted, unfocused.

Shelby leaned into his line of sight. “Trees,” she prompted gently. “My face. Scott’s coat. The ground. The light through the leaves.”

His eyes slowed, tracking where she pointed.

“Good,” she said quickly. “Four things you can feel.” She touched his wrist lightly, then the fabric of Scott’s sleeve. “The coat. My hand. The ground under your boots. Your own fingers.”

Pyro’s grip loosened just a fraction.

Shelby exhaled shakily. “Three things you can hear. My voice. Scott’s voice.” She paused, listening. “The forest.”

Scott nodded. “Well done,” he murmured.

“Two things you can smell,” Shelby continued. “The dirt. The trees.”

Pyro swallowed, throat working uselessly.

“One thing you can focus on,” Shelby said softly. “Just one. Look at me.”

He did.

The panic did not vanish, but it dulled, like the edge had been wrapped in cloth.

Shelby smiled, small and encouraging. “See? You’re doing it. You’re doing great.”

Scott adjusted his hold slightly, steady and sure. “We need to move him,” he said. “Somewhere secure.”

Shelby nodded immediately. “Your crypt?”

“Yes.”

“Creepy,” she said automatically, then winced. “Sorry. I mean. Safe. Definitely safe.”

Scott almost smiled.

Shelby looked back at Pyro, voice soft again. “We’re going to take you somewhere quiet, okay? Scott knows what he’s doing. I’m just here to… be annoying and keep talking.”

Pyro’s fingers twitched. He gave a tiny nod.

Shelby reached out and squeezed his hand. “That’s enough,” she said. “That’s more than enough.”

She stepped aside so Scott could move, staying close, even though she still had no idea what came next.

Pyro POV

Darkness peeled away slowly.

Pyro woke up on cold stone, the ceiling swimming in and out of focus above him. For a moment he didn’t know where he was. Then hunger hit him all at once, sharp and violent, like his body had been hollowed out and set on fire from the inside.

He gasped and the sound came out thin. Wrong.

Pyro pushed himself up, heart racing. Panic crept in as he tried to speak.

Nothing.

He opened his mouth again, forcing air through his throat, willing his voice to exist. Still nothing. Not even a rasp. His breathing sped up as his hands flew to his neck.

The skin was smooth.

No wound. No blood. No pain where there should have been agony. But when he swallowed, something pulled deep inside his throat, tight and burning, like something important had never healed quite right.

His chest tightened.

No. No no no.

Pyro tried again to make a sound, anything at all, and failed. Fear flooded him. He staggered to his feet, hands shaking as he clawed uselessly at his throat.

Footsteps.

Light spilled into the room as the door opened and Pyro looked up just as Scott rushed toward him. Relief crashed into him so hard his knees almost gave out. Scott meant answers. Scott meant safety.

Pyro hurried toward him, mouth open, desperate to explain, to beg, to ask what was wrong.

Nothing came out.

Scott caught him by the shoulders immediately. “Easy,” he said, steady but tense. “Slow down. You’re okay.”

Pyro shook his head hard, eyes wide. He pointed at his throat, fingers pressing in as if that would fix it. He tried again to speak and only a broken, useless breath escaped.

Scott’s face fell just a little. Not panic—something worse. Understanding.

Shelby was there a second later.

She didn’t rush. She didn’t grab him. She stepped closer like you would to a frightened animal, careful and open, her hands visible.

“Oh, Pyro,” she said softly. “Hey. Look at me.”

His eyes snapped to her without thinking. Her voice wrapped around him, warm and gentle, and his shaking eased just a fraction.

“You’re safe,” she said. “You’re not alone. Just breathe with me, okay?”

She breathed in slowly, exaggerating it so he could follow. Pyro tried. The hunger made it hard. The fear made it worse. Still, he copied her, chest hitching as he forced air in and out.

Scott glanced between them, then spoke, quieter now. “The turning did damage,” he said carefully. “Your body healed the wound. But some things… some things don’t regenerate the same way.”

Pyro stared at him.

Scott swallowed. “Your vocal cords,” he said. “They didn’t come back.”

The words landed heavy.

Shelby reached out slowly, giving Pyro time to pull away. When he didn’t, she rested her hand over his wrist, thumb brushing comfortingly against his skin. “That doesn’t mean you’re broken,” she said immediately, like she needed him to hear it. “It just means things will be different.”

Different.

The burn in his throat confirmed what his mind was already screaming.

He wasn’t going to get his voice back.

His vision blurred. Tears welled up before he could stop them, spilling over as he shook his head again and again, silent panic tearing through him. The hunger twisted tighter, making everything feel sharper, louder, worse.

Shelby squeezed his wrist. “Hey,” she murmured. “Hey, it’s okay to be scared. Anyone would be.”

She shifted closer, her shoulder brushing his, solid and real. “We’ll find ways for you to communicate. Writing. Signs. Whatever works best for you. You won’t be unheard.”

Scott nodded firmly. “You can still learn,” he added. “Still understand. This doesn’t stop you from being part of us.”

Part of us.

Pyro’s strength finally gave out.

The fear, the hunger, the shock, it all crashed together at once. His knees buckled and he sagged forward before he could catch himself.

Scott reacted instantly, arms coming around him to keep him from hitting the floor. Pyro clutched at his shirt without thinking, fingers tight, body shaking.

“I’ve got you,” Scott said, surprised by how light he felt. “I’ve got you.”

Shelby brushed Pyro’s hair back gently, careful not to overwhelm him. “You can rest,” she whispered. “You’re allowed to rest.”

Pyro tried to stay awake. Tried to stay aware. But exhaustion dragged him down, heavy and unavoidable. His grip loosened, his thoughts evening out as sleep claimed him despite everything.

Scott POV

Scott barely moved.

Pyro was asleep in his arms, head tucked against his chest, still trembling faintly even in rest. Scott stared down at him, mind racing, heart pounding.

He had no manual for this. No rulebook for a newborn who couldn’t speak. No clear answer for how to fix something that couldn’t be fixed.

Shelby met his eyes, quiet but steady. “He trusts you,” she said softly.

Scott nodded once, tightening his hold just enough to be sure Pyro wouldn’t slip. He had no idea what to do next.

But he knew one thing. He wasn’t letting go.