So Misty made me think about Owen and Louis and I accidentally wrote this in response, minor Vampires smp spoilers and tw for dying painfully below the cut, read it on ao3 here!
When Owen went to sleep for the last time, it was with Louis' promise to be there when he woke up still ringing in his ears. His final dreams were of his mayor's gentle arms, promising him that everything would get better, he would wake up to a brighter world. He believed him.
When Owen woke up for the last time, he was alone. He got out of bed. He went into the house. He found it empty. It hurt, but he reasoned Louis had probably been called away to the town to do something mayoral. He'd be back soon. He just had to be patient. For the first time, Owen looked down at his hands and found his skin smoother than it had been in his whole life. The scars and discolouration was still there, of course, but the boils were gone. The pain was gone. The disease was gone. He could go into town! He could go show everyone how he'd been saved, he could go see Louis at work!
When Owen stepped out of the mayor's house for the last time, he noticed the screaming and the smoke immediately, and scoffed at the children's loud games and the town's constant ridiculous celebrations. He would probably live full time with Louis, if only to stay away from that racket. The thought made him strangely giddy, and he had the widest smile he could remember ever wearing when he stepped into town. He couldn't wait to show Louis that it had worked, that he was healthy, that Louis had saved him.
When Owen stepped happily into Oakhurst for the last time, he froze, smile still half-frozen on his face. It took him a long time to process what he was seeing. The blaze in the middle of town wasn't a harvest bonfire. The screaming wasn't from kids chasing each other around the streets. They were Louis, the flames and the screams, they were both his mayor.
They were burning him, burning him alive, laughing and jeering as he writhed and thrashed, as he tried to pull away from the ropes keeping him bound, ropes that glinted with silver, and he was screaming, his regeneration stalling the process to an impossibly slow pace, every inch of his body taut with pain that would last far longer than it should have, and Owen was just standing there, frozen, trembling, staring, shaking his head like that might change the fact that his mayor, his Louis, the only person who had ever been kind to him was burning alive in front of his eyes and there was nothing he could do about it.
When Louis met Owen's eyes for the last time, he went still for a second, and now Owen could see the sadness behind the pain, grieving himself, grieving Owen, grieving his town. His tears were evaporated faster than they could fall. Louis' lips formed Owen's name soundlessly, no longer containing the energy for words. Louis died unable to hold Owen's hand, so he held his gaze instead.
When Owen watched the life leave Louis' eyes for the last time he, he started counting.
