He doesn't really know when it becomes A Thing, their thing. Every full moon, Roman comes over and watches him transform into a wolf. It's different when he's there, in a way that Peter really isn't sure is good or bad. Normally he would transform and spend the evening running through the woods, not trusting himself to be around people, let alone whoever was present for his transformation. He was the wolf but the wolf wasn't completely him. It was hard to describe what it's like to be a wolf when he's human. Its like its him, he's in control, but he is much more primal. He can recognize his mom (family, weak, pack mate, human, meat) but yet he doesn't. But Roman is different. Even as a wolf, he knows Roman (pack mate, not human, not enemy, his). He doesn't dare tell the other how he views him when he's a wolf (how he views him when Peter isn't pretending that he's into Letha).

But the next time he turns, Roman isn't there. Roman isn't there because he overdosed on coke, crashed his car, and was in a coma. And Peter wasn't there for him, because he was too busy fucking Letha. He can't help but whine, sniffing and searching for Roman (love, hate, anger, his). When he finally catches his scent, he bolts towards the Godfrey estate (away from the woods, away from his mother who was screaming at him). He's surprised when he arrives; the front door is already cracked open and there's a lack of anyone else in the mansion. It doesn't slow him down though, as he continues running into the foyer. When he makes it up the stairs and into the attic, Roman is silent and still on a hospital bed, surrounded by white sheets and plastic tubes. He nudges a hand with his nose but there's no movement, no Roman waking up, no Roman taunting him for acting like a dog. He jumps into the bed, nudging the other's face this time only to receive the same results. He starts whining again, growing more rough in his nudges until it turns into pawing at arms, legs, his chest. It only gets worse when he draws blood, when he sees that he's hurt Roman, when he still doesn't wake up. Roman is somewhere he can't go, and he's hurt him so bad that he doesn't know if the other even wants to find his way back. There's still a vargulf slaughtering people (Peter can smell it's fury, even here), but Peter can see the appeal in being a mindless beast. Maybe then he would've been strong enough to protect Roman (from himself, from his mother, from this whole damn town). He settles over his charge, using his own body to warm the other, resting his head on the other's chest. There's a heart beating, but there's no one in this body. And so he swears that he'll watch over the other until he wakes up (if he ever wakes up).


Morning arrives, but Peter is still a wolf, still protecting Roman. He hasn't eaten, hasn't moved since settling on top of the other the night before. He can hear movement in the castle as Olivia (rotting meat, sour fruit, cold, hate) and Shelly (pack mate, Roman's charge, warm hugs, love) return home. As the sharp sounds of heels on stone approach the room, he begins to bare his teeth, growling lowly. He can see the moment the upir realizes his presence as she stops just before crossing the threshold into the room. She's talking, low words turning into hisses, but he can't understand any of it. When she goes to take a step into his territory, he snarls, standing and moving up slightly to protect his vulnerable friend. He lowers himself so that Roman's face is pressed into his furry neck, protecting him with his own body. The upir freezes before slowly backing up, revealing Shelly behind her. Peter stops growling, cocking his head as the larger girl gently pushes her mother away, stepping forward to stand in the doorway. He scoots back a little, returning to his position from earlier with his head on Roman's chest, though he keeps Olivia in his sights at all time. He allows Shelly to approach the bed slowly, though his eyes never looks away from Olivia. She types something in her phone, but the sounds coming from the device mean nothing to him. However, after a few minutes of this, Olivia finally responds and backs even further away before disappearing from view. He follows the sound of her heels as she gets further and further away until she's no longer even on the same floor. With Roman safe for now, he relaxes completely into the body under him. He looks over Roman's face to see if he processed the threat but those blue eyes were still shut and his breathing pattern unchanged.

He softly whines, nudging the other's chin, though it does no good. Shelly is now beside the bed, watching him carefully. Her face seems to soften as she witnesses his distress, gingerly touching her brother's cheek as if to try and wake him up herself. She sits in the chair next to the bed, both of them silent as they gaze upon Roman's still face. In the morning light, he realizes that he's never seen Roman like this, so vulnerable and lax. He looks like a doll, like a statue, and Peter hates it. He dozes, trusting Shelly to watch over both of them as he rests, though he never completely sleeps. He's suddenly alert and tense once again as he hears steps on the stairs, approaching the room. Shelly shows no signs of being able to hear them, though she startles when he snaps awake. He focuses on the door frame, only relaxing slightly as his mother appears, alone.

"Peter," she murmurs, and while he understands his own name, he doesn't react. As she enters the room, he stays vigilant. After all, she's proven herself to be protective of Roman and is thus safe to be around him. But she smells of a twinge of fear, and it makes him salivate slightly. She gently brushes any stray hairs out of the Godfrey heir's face, expression tight with concern. She says his name again, but it only makes him rest his head again (it's comforting, feeling the other's heartbeat beneath his chin). Mom seems to think for a moment before reaching into her purse and pulling something out. It's a mirror, he realizes, as she points it at him. He studies himself in the mirror and it occurs to him what he's done to himself by fighting the transformation. Instead of seeing a pure black wolf, there are now streaks of white in his fur, the trademark indicator of an early vargulf. But he can't bring himself to regret his decision. As a vargulf, he can defend his friend in a way that he couldn't beforehand. And he can hope that even if (when) he fully becomes a vargulf, he'll still recognize Roman.


He doesn't know how long it's been now, days, weeks, but he has still yet to leave Roman's side. Shelly and his mother have taken to feeding him raw meat and water after he grew so hungry that neither of them were safe to even be in the same room with him. A solid half of his once black fur has faded to white, and he can feel himself losing some of his humanity. But still, he refuses to turn back. They've left the TV in the attic on at all times so he could watch the news, so he could watch as the vargulf continued to prey upon the innocents of Hemlock Grove. But Roman was safe, and that was all that mattered right now. Olivia and him had come to a sort of truce where she would able to gaze upon her son from a safe distance without her life being immediately threatened. However, the moment she came too close to crossing his invisible line, the growling would start up until she moved back. Shelly would perform physical therapy on her brother, and during this time Peter would briefly go outside to smell the fresh air, do his business, and check the perimeter of the castle before returning to Roman's side.

He can feel something is off today, something in the air that makes him unsettled. He paces around the hospital bed anxiously, sensing but unable to understand. And it occurs to him that the vargulf must've completely transformed by now, no humanity left even when human. It's been long enough, there's been enough attacks now, the most recent being the twin daughters of the police chief himself. It was even more violent than the others, barely anything left of the bodies intact this time. It spoke of uncontrolled, senseless rage that he could feel beginning to boil under his own skin the longer he remained a wolf, the longer Roman didn't wake up. His pacing grows ever more frustrated the longer he continues, sharp nails scratching at the hardwood beneath him. It's not surprising that he's caught off guard when Roman speaks.

"What time is it?" He can't understand the words but that's definitely Roman's voice, Roman sitting up on his own in his bed, Roman looking around in a daze before his eyes settle on Peter. And Peter can't help but whine and bark, jumping at the other. He licks his face, he nuzzles his neck, he scents Roman for all he's worth as the other sputters. There's hands trying to push him back gently, but the boy's chest is quaking under him with laughter so he stays right where he is. He decides then and there that he'll never leave his side, that he'll never hurt him again. Maybe if he can give Roman a good life, he can even stop the other from becoming an upir.