Archive of Our Own ^beta

Powering up to ‘3rd level' would have been far more satisfying had it been by a fresh feed but you make do. Even so the blue bleeding from my hair leaving it moon white is its own sense of self. The clothes I had laid out earlier that day for this very occasion feel comforting, the hug of a long unseen friend.
“I see someone leveled up,” Owen calls from his claimed niche of the crypt.
“Don't worry you’ll get there soon,” it's meant to be a tease but comes out more as a promise.
“Nice hair, Scott.” Shelby announces scrambling into the shadows with Pyro a few steps behind. The sun is harsh on any vampire, but midday will always be the worst. The other three clamber into what counts as beds in this place, the instinct to sleep safely away from the sun as it travels the sky strong. I try and join them in dreams but I can't, an instinct stronger than that to hide. To care for them. With a huff I give up on resting the lull of sleep much easier for me to ignore than it is for the baby bats. Slipping into my bat form I fly rings around my-our home but see nothing, not even stray animals, just trees and the vengeful sun.
It’s as I enter the crypt again that I see it. Owen's bandages have slipped after a night's work revealing gnarled scars all up his arms and probably beyond. The skin not heavily scared is rubbed an angry red from his ruff clothes, that won’t stand for the powerful vampire he will be once he comes to his full strength.
My hands react before I think, rooting through the chest of old clothes scattered around the crypt sorting by feel to find only the softest of materials. A pair of butter soft pants, gentle cream button up and time worn brown leather coat now decorate the chest next to Owen’s head. A muted orange ascot the finishing touch.
The sound of Pyro hissing in pain draws my focus, the newly turned vampire has the largest number of sunburns out of all of us. From the shade of red it’s a safe bet to say he hasn’t been sticking to the shadows. Again, I lose myself in the fabric. As I come back to myself I find my arms laden with supple long pants, a light shirt and the longest coat I could find. If Pyro won’t protect himself then hopefully the clothes will.
“What are you doing?" Shelby's voice is still sleep heavy.
“Making sure you guys are seen as the powerful vampires you are,” I answer, smiling wide enough to flash a fang as I pull out a dress just like Shelby had requested. “I have a surprise,” I tell her, showing her the gown. The squeal I get in response, all the proof of her approval I need.
“How did you sleep?” I whisper as Owen stretches flinching as a scar pulls. With a final hair pin, I finish off Shelby’s braid tucking the circlet she had found into place. It’s not practical in the slightest but even being a vampire for over 600 years doesn't make me immune to her puppy eyes.
“What is all this,” the younger vampire asks, reaching for the clothes piled next to him.
“I thought if we’re a coven we should look the part.” I say crossing the crypt to push the fabric gently into his hands.
Once night falls proper we head back to the surface, Shelby swirls her dress like a little kid her giggles filling the half-built hall. Every now and again she’ll glance over expecting to be told off but all I do is spin her around me. It’s a promise she doesn’t have to act around us. Pyro won’t see my choices do their job until morning but from Own’s face I know he’s figured out why I chose his outfit. It’s proof that someone cares for him, he won’t say it but I know he’s thankful.