They're passing the time until sundown. Hunk's already making full use of the kitchen.

"Pidge, would you do me the honor of Fridgemastering tonight?"

"Hunk, you can't just steal my date like that!" Lance pouts. "Use Keith, he's single!"

"And WHO thought of the flowers?" Hunk raises my hand with the bouquet.

"Oh, *I* see how it is! Excuse me while I go cry." Lance saunters off.

Hunk's laughing and I decide it's safe to laugh, too.

"Sorry if I'm just the better romantic, Lance!" Hunk calls.

"Yeah, well Pidge's MOM is a better romantic than ALL of us!" comes the reply.

If I had been a vampire, Lance would have succeeded at making one blush.

"So, how about it, Fridgemaster?" Hunk asks me.

"Sure," I say. "What do you need?"

"Just eggs and butter right now."

"Roger that."

The fridge has more hearts than a deck of cards. This isn't the first time I've been Fridgemaster.

"So what's this gonna be?" I ask as I move a shrink-wrapped heart off the eggs.

"A surprise!" Hunk ties his apron.

I was just asking to be polite, these are totally gonna be brownies. Apparently that's how small talk works.

"Well, it had better be worth abandoning my date over," I snort. I know it will be.

Hunk salutes.

"Pidge, my revered Fridgemaster, you have my word on it."

It's fun to cheat on Lance.

"Besides," Hunk says loudly, "Maybe LANCE would get to lick the bowl once in a while if he weren't such a TERRIBLE Fridgemaster!"

"Don't tease me, Hunk, I'm still crying," Lance calls.

I've heard the legends of Fridgemaster Lance. The best one is where Hunk dropped a tray straight out of the oven because he didn't know a pig heart somehow manifested on top of it while it was baking. Lance denies all accountability, but I've pretty much replaced him as Fridgemaster.

I can hear Lance talking. He seems to have forgotten he's supposed to be upset about our date.

"Yeah, you should have seen me," he goes. "I must have tagged out, like, ten guys." Not sure if that's a boast about a recent gym class or the LAST time they played laser tag.

"He did NOT do that," Hunk says to me.

"Yeah, I bet," I say. I step out of the kitchen. "Give me a second to set the record straight."

I'm not that surprised to walk in on Lance leaning against Keith while he tells his grandiose tale. I can't tell if Keith looks annoyed or not.

"Hey Keith, you're blushing!" Lance grins.

"What? No I'm not."

"Yes you are! Check it out!"

Lance pulls him in for a selfie.

"See?" he shows him.

Keith snorts and pushes him away. But like. Nicely.

"What the hell, Lance?" I say. "I thought tonight was OUR date."

The both of them look up at me.

"Yeah, and then you started cheating on me with Hunk, so I'm only responding in kind," Lance says.

"And I'm sure Keith likes knowing he's your SECOND choice for tonight."

"Oh yeah?" Lance throws an arm around him. "Well, me and him are gonna TROUNCE your ass at laser tag, you wanton hussy!"

"Not if I get Shiro on my team," I can't help but smirk.

"SHIRO DON'T LISTEN TO HER!" Lance shouts.

"Sorry, Lance," Shiro says from the other room. "She already called dibs."

"NO SHE DIDN'T, SHE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT WE WERE DOING UNTIL I TOLD HER!"

I would laugh at that if it didn't hurt my ears so much. I think maybe Lance noticed, he shuts up a bit.

Keith yawns. It's terrifying.

Jeez. Is it really a great idea to let him be seen in public?

"So… you're not worried about…?"

I can't really finish that sentence.

"Of course Keith's not worried," Lance says, tugging something out of Keith's pocket and giving it a twirl. "He's allergic to everything under the sun!"

"Hey! Give that back!" Keith snatches it away.

It's a gauze mask. I guess they've been doing this long enough to have it all figured out.

"No one questions the allergies of such a pasty little boy," Lance says, pinching Keith on the cheek. "Except the people who think he's actively dying. By the way, if anyone offers to call 911, the response is 'Polite Refusal.'"

I'm better at straight-up refusals. Looks like Keith might be, too, he's pushing Lance away and hiding his face.

Is that a condom balloon?

Lance kicks it.

"We should go out and do fun stuff more often, fuck waiting for that time of the month!"

I never tell him, but that joke always makes me a little dysphoric.

"I'm gonna go… open the fridge," I excuse myself.

The sun's just about down now, but we're not leaving till it's a bit darker. Safety first.

"Fridgemaster, test the batter?" Hunk holds the bowl out to me.

It's stainless steel. This will be a job for Harold. I don't actually remember when Harold's last bath was… but what Hunk doesn't know won't hurt him.

Harold's right where he should be. It's hard to refrain from fondling his head but I don't want to give Hunk MORE reason to regret this.

I dunk Harold in headfirst, but the bowl drops and I'm startled enough to let go.

It hasn't touched me, I'm not burned, but it clatters on top of Harold and snaps him.

I won't pretend I'm not upset.

"Harold…"

But when I reach to pick him up, I don't even get that far.

Something makes me look back up at Hunk, like a sixth sense I didn't know I had, or maybe it's just pure, untethered instinct realizing something's off.

Holy shit.

He's turning.

It's fucking grotesque, it's not something you EVER want to see happen to a human body, you can see that it hurts. But honestly I'm more worried about me than him right now.

This thing… it's fucking huge. Huge and black, with a baboon kind of hunch. The clothing that wasn't already torn gets ripped off by its teeth.

The noise is guttural and obscene. In the other room I catch a glimpse of a tawny mass choking on a bowtie.

But the one in here is growling. It's righted itself, it's staring at me, mouth slathering something awful.

It's between me and the door and I'm too scared to get up.

That big, ugly snout comes toward me. I can feel the hot air coming out, I would smell it too if I were still breathing.

Fuck.

Then the wolf's head slams into the cabinet beside me, followed by a fist. The sound makes me jump, and suddenly there's Keith, sucker-punching the wolf all the way across the floor.

Its face is bleeding. Keith is standing in front of me, shaking, ready to hit it again.

"Shiro!"

A door slams somewhere, followed by some horrendous yowling. And then Shiro is in the kitchen, strong-arming the black wolf out of the room. It's snapping, fuck, I think it bit him.

Another door slam. Two wolves bellowing. One in the bedroom, one in the bathroom. They sound so angry.

"Pidge," Keith turns to me, fists still clenched, "Are you okay?"

I can't even answer. Shit, have I gone nonverbal? That's only ever happened once before. There's too much noise, my heart is convulsing, the smell of the blood is making me lightheaded.

And then I see what it's doing to Keith.

A look of dread falls over him, he just drops to the ground, holding himself like he's tearing at the seams.

"F-fuck…"

When he looks back up, there's this darkness about his eyes. I want to call for Shiro, but it's like a bad dream where my throat won't work.

Keith swipes a finger across the floor, licks it off, crawls up to me like a fucking animal.

"You'll do."

His hand is cold when he twists my head.

I am gonna fucking die tonight.

I bet Matt wouldn't have gotten himself into something stupid like this.

The hand pulls off, Keith's being yanked away by the collar. It's Shiro, he kicks the glass out of the window, and I can now say I've witnessed an honest-to-god defenestration.

"Don't come in," he says as Keith hits the ground outside.

"Come ON!" Keith jumps up, shouting. There's something horrible in his eyes. He pounds on the window frame, splinters and glass fly out.

"I'll let you back in later," Shiro says calmly. The frame is coming apart. Keith looks desperate.

"You KNOW me, I'm not gonna do anything, please let me in!"

Shiro turns to me and asks if I'm all right.

"I'm SORRY, okay!" Keith sobs from outside. "I'm sorry I ruined your life and I'm sorry that you hate me!"

"Keith, I don't hate you. I just need you to calm down."

The sound is infernal. That's not a word I would normally use for ANYTHING, but this is fucking INFERNAL. It's about the sound a pterodactyl would make if you threw it in a spitting grease fire.

I wonder what the neighbors think we're doing.

"Here," Shiro tosses a sheep heart out the window.

"I don't WANT this!" Keith whips it right back. There are several sounds one never wants to hear and one of them is that of a heart splatting against the kitchen wall. "You don't know what it's LIKE," he sobs. "I've never been happy and I'm never GOING to be! You should have just let me die!"

Shiro's not saying anything but I think it's getting to him.

There's a muffled crash from the bathroom. The mirror, the medicine cabinet.

Keith looks from Shiro to the blood to me.

"Pidge, tell me I can come in."

"Don't, he's not okay yet," Shiro says.

"I thought we were friends!" Keith says to me. "Who are you gonna have when everyone's old and dead? It's Shiro and it's me, that's it, no one else. Are you really gonna treat me like this NOW? What about when I'm your only friend in the whole fucking world? You'll be sorry THEN!"

"Keith, that's enough," Shiro says.

"FINE! I'm glad you BOTH hate me and you'll both hate me until the sun fucking explodes!"

"No one hates you, Keith."

"But you'll let me starve... I just want what's on the floor… if you don't hate me, how come you don't TRUST me?"

He's quieter now, sounds more sad than violent. How long is it gonna take for him to calm down?

"Keith, this isn't about trust."

"Well it serves me right for trusting YOU! You didn't keep me off the streets, and you sure as fuck didn't keep me from DYING! How the fuck did I land someone like YOU?"

Shiro punches the wall.

"Keith! Shut up!"

I gotta get the fuck out of here.

Shiro turns toward me, and I'll never not be ashamed for flinching.

"Pidge…" he breathes. "I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to call you a cab."

I won't ask him not to.

Before he pulls his phone out, he slips something over my neck. I don't know what it is, I'm trying to get as far as I can from the window, from the rattling doors, there really isn't anywhere left to go in this small apartment.

I don't really register Shiro calling the cab, only that he starts mopping the blood off the floor while Keith begs him not to. Blood, raw brownies, cloth, and Harold. The barking is so loud and I'm not sure this place allows pets.

When Shiro's phone rings with the cab, he slips a twenty into my hand.

"The cab is three houses down on the left. I'm sorry about Harold."

I wish he wouldn't keep knowing things like that.

I grab the remains of my stuff and run. I don't think he'd send me outside if he thought Keith would hurt me, but I'm still running. I don't want to be here, I don't want to think about anything.

"Ow! Fuck!"

I was too shaken up to remember a dishrag for the car door.

When I get in I try to remember to breathe. I give the cabbie my address but even if he took me straight to Hell I wouldn't notice.

Nobody wanted me to see that.

I want Harold back. I want to rub him between my fingers. My hand moves to the thing around my neck instead. It's a cross, some kind of metal that's not burning me. Possibly silver.

Maybe I should ALWAYS wear this to Shiro's place.

It's no Harold but the little nooks feel kind of nice under my thumb. Remembering to breathe.

I'm okay, I'm not hurt, Shiro's gonna be okay, everyone's gonna be okay.

How badly did he get bitten?

No, he's gonna be okay.

My phone rings.

It's Lance's number, but it can't be him on the other end.

"Hey Pidge!"

It is, in fact, Lance, sounding way too happy.

"Lance?"

"Yeah, I know, funny right? Hunk's back to normal too."

"What's even going on? I thought the full moon wasn't until tomorrow."

"It's not. Shiro says there was probably some kind of magical interference."

Magical interference. Like from a child of the fair folk?

"Can I talk to him?"

"Eh, I don't know," his voice loses a shade of exuberance. "He's trying to calm down Keith right now."

God. That's gotta be pretty ugly. We could have been playing laser tag.

"Anyway, as your boyfriend for the evening, I just wanted to make sure you were getting home all right, and that your night wasn't ruined by some stupid magical interference."

"It's fine," I lie. "What about YOURS?"

"Are you kidding? My date gets me out of my clothes without even touching me, I'd say it's a pretty successful evening."

Ugh. He knows the interference is my fault. I kind of don't feel like talking right now.

"I kind of don't feel like talking right now."

"Say no more, Pidgey-pie. Anyway, Hunk says–"

I hang up.

I'm feeling a bit sick.

We could have been playing laser tag.

What am I going to tell my mom about coming home so early? She'll know something went bad, I don't want her to think that about Lance.

I don't want her to think that about me being out of the house.

She'll ask why I didn't call. She'll think I don't trust her. She'll think she's a terrible parent whose kid is afraid to talk to her.

I wish I could tell her. I wish my parents would say what they said before, "We don't care what you are, we love you no matter what." But I'm not sure I can ask that of them again. And I don't think they'd really want to give me this love that belongs to Matt.

I wish I didn't hurt people just by existing.

In what feels like an instant, the cab pulls up to my house.

I hand the twenty to the driver and don't wait for any change.