Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Avid stared. Blinked. Stared harder.

No matter how much he looked at it, the sight in front of him didn’t change. There, in the town square laid Martyn, Scott crouched over him, fangs buried in his throat. Around them, the rest of the town stood, each of them bearing red eyes, each of them watching as Scott drained Martyn. As he turned Martyn.

There was nothing Avid could do to help. He was too far away, and against an entire colony of vampires he knew he was worse than useless. Besides, the moment he left the safety of his house, then he was as good as vampire chow, and with how Avid had acted over the past few months, he was certain that no-one would bother turning him. And if they did, then what? Would he be kept as an amusing pet? Or would he be turned and then left to starve?

There were fourteen of them in the town, and Avid was now the only human left. He knew animals were getting scarce, and he also knew that if presented with the choice, he would be the one left to starve. It made something in his guts twist, and he stepped away from the window, letting the curtain fall back into place. Thirteen vampires. One human. And a cage that was slowly being drained of food.

He barked out a bitter laugh as he paced around his room, eying the silver melted around the doorframe, the way he had nailed his window shut. The vampires wouldn't be able to get in, if they somehow managed to get into the house in the first place. He was safe.

Or as safe as he could be, trapped in his house in a town full of vampires. He had some food, and water, but not enough, and Avid sat down heavily on his bed as he realized fully and completely how screwed he was.

If the vampires didn’t kill him, or turn him, he would die of thirst or starvation. Avid knew he had no way of escaping the town, it would be foolish to even try. It was how Martyn had been caught, after all.

“Fuck,” Avid whispered, running his hand through his hair. It was uncomfortably greasy, the product of him having been stuck in his house for weeks, ever since Ren was turned. Ever since Avid and Martyn had realized that they were vastly outnumbered, and had locked themselves in their respective houses in the hopes that it would keep them alive.

He didn’t know what had pushed Martyn to leave. But now it was just Avid left, and-

A knock. Faint, at his front door, but still loud enough for Avid to hear.

“Avid!” It was Drift this time, her voice hauntingly familiar. It was so friendly, with undertones of worry, and Avid covered his ears as he shoved himself into one of the corners of his room. He could still hear her talking. “Avid, just come out! It won’t hurt, I promise! You can’t live in that house forever!”

Avid knew he couldn't. He had maybe three days of water left, if he rationed, and after that he would have to leave.

Or die. That was also an option.

He pressed himself further into the corner, chewing on his lip as he considered his options, the taste of blood flooding his mouth as his dry, cracked lips finally gave up staying whole.

The knocking on his front door turned into banging. Avid swallowed, licking the blood away from his lips as Drift pleaded to be let in. She must have smelled his blood. He knew vampires had a good sense of smell, had watched as Ren hunted Sausage down through scent alone, but it was one thing to know something and another to witness its effects.

After a moment, Drift went quiet, the low murmur of a conversation he was too far away to hear barely reaching his ears, until that too went quiet and there was a knock on the window.

“Avid,” Scott said, his voice calm. Collected. Concerned. “Avid, show me that you haven’t hurt yourself. You don’t have to come out, just show me that you aren’t injured.”

Avid scowled at the floor, hands clawing at the wood as he forced himself to his feet.

“I’m fine!” he shouted at the window, but Scott scoffed, disbelief clear in his voice.

“Do you know how many people actually turn out to be fine when they say that? Not many. And besides, if you don’t prove that you’re fine, your friends are gonna try and break your door down.”

Avid froze. Theoretically, his door was sturdy, and if they got through his front door then they would still have to get through his reinforced bedroom door to get at him, but why risk it? All he had to do was show Scott that he was fine, and then he could go back to waiting for something to happen.

He stood up, brushing off his clothes like that would make him more presentable, trying his best to wipe off the blood still trickling out of his cracked lip. There. He was sure he looked fine, or at least good enough that Scott would back off.

Avid walked over to the window, and brushed the curtain to the side, looking out of it and doing his best to not meet Scott’s gaze. All the old stories mentioned vampires' abilities to hypnotize people, to thrall them, but they also mentioned that it only worked when you looked into a vampire's eyes, and despite Avid not knowing how true it was, he didn’t want to risk it.

“I’m fine,” he said, again, eyes focusing on Scott's lips instead of his eyes. Lips that were smeared with blood, licked-clean fangs poking out of his mouth whenever he spoke.

“You really aren’t,” Scott said, pointing at Avid through the windowpane. “You’re bleeding, you look terrible, and even I can see that you’re running out of food. How long do you intend to be foolish?”

Avid scowled at Scott, still stubbornly staring at his lips.

“It’s not being foolish if what I’m doing keeps me alive,” Avid said, hand reaching for the curtain again. “You can see I’m fine. So kindly, leave me alone.”

“Avid,” Scott said, something like disappointment in his voice. “Avid, you aren’t doing well. You’re not fine, and I’m not going to leave you alone. Just talk to me! Avid-”

Avid closed the curtain. It really didn’t muffle Scott's voice, he could still hear him clearly, but he was no longer looking at him and that made him feel a little better.

He walked back to his corner, considering sitting down before an odd scraping noise made him freeze, his head whipping towards his door.

Scott was still talking at the window, trying to convince Avid to come back and talk to him, but there was something at his door and Avid just knew-

Drift was a vampire, and he had never explicitly blocked her from the house. Just said that vampires in general were not welcome. Drift was in his house, trying to get into his room as quietly as possible, and Scott was trying to be loud and distracting enough at the window in the hopes that Avid wouldn't notice.

Avid felt his blood run cold as something clattered outside his door and someone cursed quietly. Someone else hissed out a sharp “Be quiet!”, but they were too late. Avid had noticed them, and they still had an entire door to get through in order to get at him.

His eyes darted around the room. Searching for something to stop them. For something to keep him safe.

His eyes landed on his bedside table. On the silver knife laying delicately on top of it.

His room already stank of blood from his chewed-on lip. Surely, the vampires wouldn't notice if the smell increased?

Avid didn’t remember walking over to his bedside table. One moment, he was in the corner, and the next he was holding that knife up and watching as it gleamed in the darkness of his bedroom.

He swallowed, his tongue feeling like cotton in his mouth as he stared at it. 

He didn’t want to die.

He wanted to be a vampire even less.

And between death, and the possibility of becoming undead?

The knife was wickedly sharp. He knew it was. He had taken to sharpening it every day, as the amount of vampires in the town increased, and as the human population shrunk.

It would be quick. All he had to do was slit his own throat. He knew where all the major veins were. If he got the jugular, he would die nice and fast, but the vampires might still have the time to get in and turn him before he fully died.

If he got the carotid artery, he would be dead faster than they could get in. And it would be more forgiving than they would be, if they wanted him dead.

It really wasn’t a hard choice.

He lifted the knife, let it drift across his throat as he closed his eyes, mentally mapping out exactly where he had to cut to make it count. Blood rolled down his throat as the tip of his knife split the skin as easy as butter left out in the sun for a week, and Scott’s tapping at the window turned into banging.

“Avid! Avid, stop whatever you’re doing! AVID!”

Avid breathed in, his breath catching in his throat as he sunk to the floor of his bedroom, tears starting to clog his vision. His hands shook.

The vampires at the door were no longer trying to be careful.

Avid was scared.

Whether it was because of the Vampires outside, or what he was about to do, he didn't know.

Despite that, he still dug the knife into his own throat, shoving it as deep as it would go and then ripping it back out, the taste of blood filling his throat as he choked on it.

He had shoved the knife too deep, he realized with shaking hands as he let the knife drop to the floor, the primal, survivalist part of his brain scrabbling at his motor control, making his hands spasm as he fought the urge to clutch his throat and slow the bleeding.

Instead, he leaned his head back, the cut on his throat gushing blood, twisting his hands into the blanket that had fallen off of his bed to keep them steady.

It was taking longer to die than he had expected.

He breathed in, and there was blood clogging his throat, bubbling out of his mouth. Avid coughed, and coughed, and coughed, his body shaking as his brain registered that it wasn’t getting air-

Something shattered, glass or wood or something else Avid couldn't tell, and then there were hands on him, clutching at his body as they lowered him to the ground, the blanket being ripped from his hands as it was shoved against his throat.

It didn’t do much. He had cut through his airways as well as who-knew how many veins in his attempt at his carotid artery, and stemming the bleeding on the outside wasn’t going to help when he was choking on his own blood as it flooded his throat and lungs.

“SCOTT!” Someone roared, Ren? Drift? It didn’t matter.

Avid pried open his eyes, gazing up at them. They were just a blur, brown hair and red eyes and pale skin, and he couldn't breath enough to clear up his vision. It was going spotty from the lack of air.

Avid blinked, and then there was Scott. Even with how bad his eyes were at the moment, the Vampires blue hair made him identifiable.

“You idiot,” Scott muttered, barely loud enough for Avid to hear as he leaned down. “Why would you do something like this?”

Avid breathed in, blood gurgling up his throat, and Scott sealed his mouth over Avid’s wound, fangs latching onto shredded skin as he drank.

If there was something to say about being drained, it was that it was quick. Avid’s fingers and toes went numb as a cotton-fog feeling sunk into his bones, and he let his eyes slip closed as Scott clutched him closer.

Slowly, though, ice started dripping into his veins, too sharp for that place made of spun wool and mist that Avid had dropped into, and alongside that feeling, something else dripped into him.

Feelings. Thoughts. Concerns.

Avid blinked blearily, trying to thrash as he realized what was happening, but his limbs were lead and Scott was much, much stronger than him.

The fledgling bond only strengthened the more ice that dripped into him, as his warm blood was consumed and all that was left was death, the feelings starting to solidify into something like fear.

Why would they be afraid?

Avid was dying, wasn’t that what they wanted?

Surely, they didn’t want him turned? 

They hated him! They mocked him and his concerns, cast him out of town when he went too far. He was the last hurdle, and once he was dead they could do whatever they wanted!

But Scott was cradling his body like he was something precious, and there was an arm being held to his mouth, and the taste of something rotten and metallic was filling his throat. Avid’s body spasmed, one last defense, but the vampire's blood slipped down his throat and his world went black, and Avid turned.

He blinked awake to somewhere he didn’t recognize, a nest, fangs in his mouth, and something needy in his head wailing for his coven, for his sire and siblings and food. And when he looked, Scott was there with a freshly-slaughtered pig, and Martyn was laying beside him, still asleep, and he couldn't move because he was tied up.

Avid must have made a noise, because Scott looked at him, then at the ropes, then sighed.

“They’re temporary,” he said, brushing Avid's hair away from his forehead. “Just until we’re sure you won’t do what you did again.”

Avid blinked up at Scott, wanting to speak but the words not coming out, and then Scott was holding the pig up to his mouth and the smell was overwhelming and Avid felt his mouth fill with drool.

When he bit down, it wasn’t a conscious decision. But he needed it, the blood, the life, and it flooded his mouth and rolled down his throat like the best nectar, sweet and thick and slightly grainy, like melted chocolate or thick cream skimmed off the top of a bucket of milk, and Avid drank, and drank, and drank.

And the entire time, there was a hand in his hair, sharp claws careful as they pet at his scalp, and the feeling of concern and protectiveness lurking at the edges of their bond.

Chapter Text

Scott swallowed, again and again, the sweet taste of Martyn’s blood sliding down his throat like a fine, aged wine. He could feel eyes digging into him, his coven around him watching, knowing that Martyn was one of only two humans left in Oakhurst left to turn before their coven would be truly complete.

Scott hadn’t expected to become this attached to everyone in the little village. He had fully expected to use the human population to regain his strength, and then move onto the wider world once there were no more left, but he had grown attached, and the mortality of the humans was a detail that he could easily deal with.

He swallowed again, ears twitching as he heard the beating of Martyn’s heart finally start to slow down from the prey-panic fast it had been going, smiling slightly at the realization that finally, finally he was beginning to turn.

Soft footsteps tapped their way across the dirt roads of the village, stopping next to Scott, and when he glanced up, Drift’s easy smile and cherry-red eyes met his gaze.

“Almost done?” she asked, an eyebrow raised and hands clasped behind her back, and Scott swallowed another mouthful of blood, not detaching his fangs yet since he actually had to pump the venom needed for the turn into Martyn still, but instead using the coven bond to direct the question of -not yet, almost done, what's going on?- at her.

Drift rocked on her heels, biting her lip as she considered her answer, glancing upwards, and Scott felt his fingers twitch as he realized where she was looking.

It was a little early for him to do so, but he injected Martyn with the venom anyways, detaching from his neck and licking the remaining blood off of his fangs, standing up as Martyn twitched on the ground.

“What’s going on?” Scott asked, stepping to the side so that Owen and Sausage could grab Martyn and bring him to the nest. He was turning either way, now, but slower than he would have if Scott had drained him a bit more.

That didn’t matter, at the moment. What mattered was whatever Avid was doing, and why it had Drift so concerned she came to Scott in the middle of turning Martyn.

Drift looked to the side, her portion of the coven bond radiating -uncertainty, worry, nervousness- as she contemplated what to say. The longer she took, the more worried Scott grew, until finally, she spoke.

“I smelled blood from Avid’s house,” she murmured, leaning forwards and glancing around nervously, voice too low for any of the other vampires to hear. “Not a lot, and I don’t think I did the right thing when I registered what I smelled because he hasn’t answered me, or answered what I was saying to him before I smelled the blood, but I’m worried now and you know how Avid thinks!-”

Scott held up a hand, cutting Drift off, the worry radiating from her side of the bond nearly overwhelming. Already, some of the others were looking their way, and Scott took a deep breath in as he glanced at Avid’s house again.

It looked normal. The curtains drawn, the front door -that had been barred- open, and Scott knew that Drift had gone in to check on Avid the moment he hadn’t answered her. Scott sniffed the air, blinking a little when he realized that he could smell the blood on the air now that he was looking for it.

It wasn’t much, but Scott was older than the rest of the vampires in town -he had turned everyone except for Owen, after all- and he had experience in determining the differences in blood, and knowing how healthy that meant the human the blood belonged to was, and Avid did not smell healthy.

He smelled dehydrated, and hungry, and his blood has a sour note to it that spoke of a deep fear that Scott normally enjoyed seeing in humans but not so much when that fear belonged to someone in his coven, even if they weren’t a vampire yet.

“It’s not a deep injury,” Scott said, licking his lips as he spoke, absentmindedly cleaning Martyn’s blood from his skin, “but I’ll check it out. There’s some sour notes to his blood that I don’t like the smell of.”

Drift tensed up a little, her nose wrinkling with worry, and Scott sighed.

“It’s probably nothing,” he said, reaching out and resting his hand on her shoulder, feeling her relax a little under the combined force of his words and the feelings of relaxation and comfort he was sending at her. “He probably saw me turning Martyn from the window, and cut himself on one of those nails he used to seal every window in the hose shut. He’s probably fine.”

Still, despite his own words, there was a worry building in his guts that Scott didn’t like, and when Drift had been thoroughly assured, Scott turned into a bat and flew his way up to Avid’s bedroom window, turning back into a human before tapping on the window.

If he really wanted to, he could break in, but that would just make Avid panic. And besides, Scott didn’t have permission to enter the house, and Drift refused to give him permission to enter unless it was an emergency.

“Avid,” Scott said, hearing the beating of the human’s heart. It was too loud, frantic, and Scott knew that Avid had seen Martyn be turned. Every other time he had tried to convince Avid to come out, to talk to them, his heart at least had been beating somewhat steadily. “Avid, show me that you haven’t hurt yourself. You don’t have to come out, just show me that you aren’t injured.”

He kept his voice low, collected. Avid was so prone to skittishness that if Scott raised his voice even a little there was a chance he wouldn’t comply. And Scott had to know if Avid was hurt, if he had hurt himself and needed help.

Avid hadn’t shown any signs of self-harm before, and Scott was nearly certain that his bleeding was caused by clumsiness or inattention, but he couldn’t be sure until he saw Avid.

There was a long pause. Long enough that Scott was certain Avid wasn’t going to answer him, until finally, he did respond.

“I’m fine!” Avid shouted, and Scott scoffed, wincing at how rough his voice was. Avid sounded like he hadn’t spoken in a while combined with him not having drunken water in far too long.

“Do you know how many people actually turn out to be fine when they say that?” Scott asked, his voice leaking incredulity. “ Not many. And besides, if you don’t prove that you’re fine, your friends are gonna try and break your door down.”

It wasn’t even a lie. Scott knew his fledglings would force the door to Avid's bedroom open if there even was a hint of him being not okay. They were impulsive like that, and the desire to have all their coven close was still controlling their actions somewhat.

There was another pause, longer this time, before finally Scott heard the tapping of feet against wooden floors, and the rustle of curtains as they were pulled aside.

The first thing Scott registered was how bad Avid looked.

The second thing he registered was that at least half of his coven had been watching through his eyes, and they had all also seen how bad Avid looked, and based on how quiet they all had suddenly gotten, them seeing Avid’s condition wasn’t a good thing.

“I’m fine,” Avid said, again, and Scott was too busy trying to convince his coven to not go in guns swinging that he didn’t register that Avid wasn’t meeting his eyes for a long moment. His gaze seemed focused on Scott’s lips and fangs, and after a moment Scott realized that he really hadn’t managed to lick his lips clean of blood.

He ignored that fact. It was a little too late to change things now, and Drift was telling him through the bond to distract Avid so she and Ren could get in.

“You really aren’t,” Scott said, pointing at Avid through the windowpane. “You’re bleeding, you look terrible, and even I can see that you’re running out of food. How long do you intend to be foolish?”

All of this was true. Avid looked like roadkill, deep bags under his eyes, his hair greasy and limp, and even his normally-bright, purple eyes were dulled to a grey sheen.

Avid scowled at Scott, clenching his hands into fists, and he still wasn’t looking Scott in his eyes. Through the coven bond, Drift sent Scott an image of the human’s bedroom door, and the way that it had been sealed shut.

And not even nailed shut, but with silver melted over the gaps so that if they wanted to get in, they would have to risk their own health and safety.

“It’s not being foolish if what I’m doing keeps me alive,” Avid said, and then he was reaching for the curtain again, and Scott felt like cursing as he heard Drift and Ren start fiddling with Avid’s door, in their attempts to get in. They weren’t being loud, per say, but they were definitely being loud enough that Avid would hear them if he got too close. “You can see I’m fine. So kindly, leave me alone.”

Scott couldn't leave Avid alone, clearly. 

“Avid,” Scott said, something like disappointment in his voice. “Avid, you aren’t doing well. You’re not fine, and I’m not going to leave you alone. Just talk to me! Avid-”

Avid closed the curtain, cutting Scott off, and he felt like screaming, his idiot fledglings still fiddling with the door, and Avid so clearly denying help that it made Scott’s instincts writhe in his chest. He could hear footsteps, Avid walking away from the window, but Scott still tried to talk to him.

“Please, you look hungry, you’re hurt, I can smell that you aren’t drinking enough water, please just talk to me, tell me what’s wrong so I can help you!”

No answer.

“Avid, I know you don’t like vampire’s, but I swear we aren’t going to drain you or turn you unless it’s absolutely necessary, please you locking yourself in your house isn’t helping anyone!-”

Avid’s breathing stuttered strangely. His heart rate picked up. The smell of fear was almost overwhelming.

Scott heard something drop to the floor. Something metal that Drift and Ren were using to get the door open. Ren cursed, quiet but not quiet enough, and Drift hissed a warning at him that was a touch too loud.

Scott pressed his face to the glass, trying to peer into the tiny gap that the curtain didn’t quite cover, and it was just enough to see that Avid’s face had gone completely white, that he was stumbling away from the door, and glancing all over the room for something that would help.

Scott kept trying to convince Avid that nothing was going to happen, that Drift and Ren were just concerned, that they were just getting in because Avid was being stupid and wasn’t taking proper care of himself, but it was clear that Avid wasn’t processing anything at the moment, and that he wasn’t hearing the words coming out of Scott's mouth.

Instead, Scott watched as Avid’s eyes landed on his bedside table. On the knife on top of the wooden surface.

“AVID! DO NOT DO WHAT I THINK YOU’RE ABOUT TO! AVID!” Scott shouted, slamming his hands into the window pane, but Avid still picked up the knife and was looking at it as if in a daze. He didn’t look all there, not in the slightest, and Scott could do nothing but watch as slowly, Avid raised the knife to his neck and traced it over his throat, his eyes still glazed over and not-there.

Blood welled up in the knife’s wake. It was sharp.

Scott banged against the window, desperately pleading with Avid. Drift and Ren were now no longer being careful, just wanting to get in, and Scott could barely hear the words coming out of his own mouth.

“Avid! Avid, stop whatever you’re doing! AVID!”

Avid didn’t stop. He collapsed to the floor of his room, beside the bed, his limbs shaking, but he didn’t drop the knife. Instead, he clutched it tighter, tears starting to roll down his face as his body shook with the force of his suppressed sobs.

Still, he lifted the knife back to its starting position. Scott’s senses were overwhelmed with the smell of blood, and with panic.

Avid breathed in.

Avid breathed out.

Avid shoved the knife into his own neck, tearing it back out in a spray of blood, leaning back and closing his eyes as he bled and bled and bled an-

“SCOTT!” Drift yelled, and that was permission enough to enter. He could feel her intent, after all, and her own panic as the smell of blood grew and grew and grew.

The window shattered beneath Scott’s hands, and then he was inside, and in the blink of an eye he was standing beside Drift and Ren who had managed to make it into the room a heartbeat before he did.

Avid’s blood was starting to pool on the floor, and he was coughing, choking on it, his body spasming as it fought for air. Avid had missed the carotid artery, Scott noted as he leaned in, but he had managed to hit just about every vein there was, and he had managed to tear right into his trachea.

Avid was going to drown in his own blood, Scott realized in a cold sense of horror as Ren grabbed the blanket on the floor next to Avid and shoved it into his throat in an attempt to stem the bleeding.

Scott was rooted to the floor, unable to move as he listened to Avid’s heart start to slow. The crimson of his blood stained his clothes, soaking through the blanket far faster than expected, and Scott watched as Avid’s eyes flickered open for a moment, as his eyes refused to focus as they fluttered and then shifted to Scott.

That was what broke him out of his frozen spell, and Scott lurched forwards, dropping to his knees beside Avid so heavily that pain shot through his legs.

“You idiot,” Scott breathed, bringing a shaky hand up to peel the blood-soaked blanket away from Avid’s throat. “Why would you do something like this?”

Avid breathed in, and blood gurgled in his throat so loud Scott couldn't wait a single second longer. He had enough venom, barely, but Avid was already so far gone he wouldn’t require more than half-a-dose to turn.

Scott latched onto Avid, sealing his lips over the wound that was still gushing blood, not even waiting before he released every drop of venom he had left. He didn’t even bother to drain Avid of the rest of his blood, because he was losing blood at a great enough rate that by the time the change actually started, Scott knew Avid would have naturally lost enough.

Instead, Scott detached his fangs from Avid’s skin and watched as his eyes slipped closed, the human still breathing but barely, and Scott clutched his rapidly-cooling body close.

Scott felt it when Avid started to turn, when he moved from human to fledgling, because the coven bond settled enough so that he could hear Avid’s thoughts and feel his feelings, and despite them being quiet due to Avid actively dying, they were still loud and distinct enough for Scott to make out.

Confusion. Fear. The passing thought of why would they be afraid? Surely, they didn’t want him turned?

Avid tried to thrash, blinking again, and Scott held him steady, keeping his friend and fledgling from hurting himself further. Avid’s heart was still beating, but it was too sluggish, and Scott realized in a shot of cold fear that Avid was turning too slowly.

There were ways to speed up vampire turnings, of course. But most of them were dangerous, and resulted in a fledgling that was much hungrier after waking up again, and that tended to not be a good thing when in a place full of humans.

But there were no humans around, and if Scott didn’t hurry Avid’s turning somehow, he would die before it fully took.

Scott used his own fangs to rip a hole in his arm, and as blood dripped out he raised it to Avid’s mouth, making sure that his blood settled on the human’s tongue and dripped down his throat.

Avid tried to fight, of course. It was an inbuilt instinct for humans to fight when they tasted vampire blood. But he was too weak, and his body just spasmed a little, and although some of Scott’s blood seeped back out through the wound in Avid’s throat, oil-dark with a rotting sheen to it, most of it made its way down his throat.

Avid didn’t turn quick. But he turned faster than he would have, and after a few hours, his throat started to heal and his heart stopped beating, and it had turned dark outside but that didn’t matter because Scott had night-vision and could watch over Avid without light to see with.

Eventually, when he was stable enough to move, Scott picked Avid up and moved him. The other vampires in his coven, his fledglings and Owen, acted as a guard as Scott carried Avid up to his castle, where the nest was and where Avid would stay until he woke up and was more stable mentally.

Because even Scott, as old as he was, could recognize when someone was having mental health problems, and looking back, it was clear that Avid had not seen the vampire's actions the way that the vampire’s had. It was clear that they should have done things differently, instead of letting Avid catastrophize in his room.

But they couldn't change the past, only affect the future, and so Scott carried Avid into the nest, next to Martyn, and arranged blankets carefully around the two of them so that they would be comfortable.

And then, because apparently they couldn't trust Avid to not hurt himself, Scott grabbed some of the silk ties he had laying around in his room and used those to tie Avid up, using the ties because he didn’t want Avid to get hurt further and hemp ropes were terrible for tying up anything with skin.

When he was done, Scott just stared at Avid. He still looked terrible, tired and worn, curling into the blankets like his fear was still controlling his body, but he looked better.

It would be a while before Avid woke up. Two days, at the very least, a week at the most. And until then, Scott would stand watch, and make sure that nothing happened.

And, Scott thought, also perhaps clean Avid up some. His hair really was greasy, and it couldn't feel very good.

But mostly, in between caring for Avid as he slumbered and as he turned fully, Scott stood watch. Patiently. Because he was well over six-hundred years old, and he could be patient, gosh darnit.

Patience? You? Owen whispered along the edges of the coven bond, four days into Scott's vigil, a dead pig in his arms because Avid had finally shown signs of waking up, and apparently Scott had been projecting his thoughts over the past few days.

Shut up, Scott shot back at him, accepting the pig with a nod, and settling on the edge of the nest as Avid stirred.

And, when finally, Avid opened his eyes again, and after Scott had soothed both him and his hunger, Scott got to hold Avid as he drifted back to sleep, and as the last human he considered family finally, finally joined his coven.

Maybe Avid had not accepted the fact that he had joined Scott’s coven quite yet, but Avid was theirs now, for forever and beyond, and he would hopefully never be hurt again.

Or hurt himself ever again. That one was far more important.