"I guess that's why he was acting the way he was…" the blonde said quietly, keeping his eyes on Davy.

"Guess so," Micky sighed again, going to leave. Peter looked at Davy for a moment, once he was sure that his friend was okay, he followed behind. Not long after, Peter had gone to grab a pair of clothes to change and as he quietly grabbed a shirt and pair of pants from his cabinet, he began to hear noises coming from Davy's bed.

Frowning, he set the clothes down and slowly approached the bed, crouching down to get a better look at Davy. His face was still pale and now was drenched in sweat as he muttered and twitched.

"Davy?" Peter asked, softly shaking his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Davy whispered something unintelligible, almost sounding like it was in another language, as he continued shifting around.

"Davy," Peter said again, much more sternly than before. "You're dreaming, it's okay."

Davy growled but eventually his eyes shot open and he let out a scream, tumbling backward onto the floor.

"Davy!" Peter yelped, rushing to him. "Are you okay?"

"Hmm," Davy hummed, rubbing his head. "I-I'm f-f-fine…"

Peter frowned, not believing it, but nodded slowly.

"You know you can talk to me about anything you need to," he said gently. "It's okay."

Davy looked down, thinking about the offer for a long moment before sighing and shaking his head.

"Not about this," he muttered, standing on shaky feet and about to collapse again before Peter caught him.

"I'm sorry," Davy whispered as Peter helped him into bed.

"For what?"

"I-I'm sorry I did that last night," Davy sniffled, wiping his face. "Really, I-I am…"

"It's okay," Peter said, wrapping the blanket back around him. "I'm sorry you're not feeling well." Davy gave him a shaky smile.

"It's my own fault really," He answered, "they didn't hold me down and force the drugs down my throat."

"What did you take?" Peter asked. Davy sighed again.

"I don't know Peter," Davy said "but I'm sore and I just want to go to bed."

"Okay. Sorry." Peter said he hurried into the bathroom and changed into his clothing. When he came out Davy was asleep again in Mike's bed.

"Davy?" Peter asked going over and poking him gently "Why are you in Mike's bed?"

"Familiar scent," Davy muttered. Peter looked at him.

"Okay, well, I'm going to go downstairs," Peter said "if you want to join us." Davy didn't answer him and Peter shrugged and left.

"How's Davy doing?" Micky asked as Peter made his way down the stairs.

"Good, I think," Peter said "he's sleeping in Mike's bed."

"Why?" Micky asked. Peter shrugged.

"He said something about it being a familiar scent." Peter said, "whatever that means."

"Familiar scent?" Micky repeated and Peter nodded.

"Huh," he said, frowning. "That's…odd, but okay."

"Yeah…" Peter said quietly, sitting down beside him. "I hope he's okay."

"We'll just have to keep a close eye on him until he gets better," Micky shrugged. "Let him rest, but make sure he's still okay, if that makes sense."

"It does," Peter nodded. "Has Mike come back yet?"

Micky shook his head, keeping his focus on the tv screen.

"Not yet," he sighed.

"Oh…" Peter said quietly, turning toward the tv as well. Now the news anchor was talking to the family of the victim, there were a lot of tears and intense emotions from them. It made Peter's heart ache, but he also couldn't look away.

"I feel bad for them…" Micky said, fixated on the screen. Peter nodded slowly, not knowing what to say. Micky let out a sigh, eventually going over to turn off the tv when it had become too much.

"Weird things are going on, Pete," he said in an unusually soft tone, causing the blonde to look at him.

"Yeah," Peter nodded "but it's not so weird for us." Micky smiled.

"That's true." Micky said "but still, outside of what we do, this is pretty odd." He sighed and went over to the bandstand looking out the window.

"What are you thinking about Micky?" Peter asked.

"Nothing Pete," Micky said "I'm worried about thais gig we have."

"Why?" Peter asked "it's just like every gig."

"Well, yeah, but we're doing a song I wrote. What id they don't like it?" Micky asked turning to face Peter. Peter shrugged.

"Then they don't like it." Peter suggested. Micky sighed.

"Thanks Pete." Micky said rolling his eyes. Peter shrugged.

"Well, it's true." Peter said.

"That's not making me feel better." Micky grumbled as the door opened and Mike walked in with a frown on his face.

"Hey," Peter said "is everything okay?" Mike didn't answer him, just went into the second bedroom and shut the door.

Peter frowned and exchanged a worried look with Micky. Micky made his way over to the door, knocking on it slightly.

"Hey, Mike?" He called out. "Are you alright?"

No answer. Micky sighed and turned the handle, it was locked. Now Micky was worried.

"Mike?" He asked again. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Mike's voice called out from the other side. "I just need a minute. Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about what?" Micky asked, looking back over at Peter. They knew Mike well enough that when he said "don't worry", that always meant there was something to be worrying about.

"It's nothing, really," Mike sighed.

"If it's nothing, can you open the door?" Micky asked, now hearing footsteps approaching and the lock clicking as the door opened. Mike had made an effort to keep the door as closed as possible, but Micky could see the mess of newspapers scattered around the floor.

"Mike, what's going on?" Micky asked, and Mike looked down, letting out a sigh.

"The wolf's hurt more people than I thought…" he muttered under his breath.

"What do you mean?" Micky asked. Mike opened the door and Micky and Peter entered. Newspapers were scattered about the floor and there was an ID badge of some kind on the vacant bed.

"I couldn't find the obits of the first two that were attacked Anna and Sam, so I went to see if they were still alive. They were. Both said the same thing. They were walking home late at night and heard growling and then nothing. Next thing they knew they were in the hospital."

"Any chance they could have just been attacked by a normal wolf?" Micky asked hopefully.

"No," Mike said, "it's too similar and they both happened on full moons."

"Are they werewolves?" Peter asked. Mike shook his head no.

"I don't know how or why, but it's like whoever attacked them came into their right mind before they bit them."

"What did you mean by 'the wolves hurt more people than I thought.?" Micky asked.

"Just what I mean." Mike said "there's three here in LA, four in San Francisco and the surrounding areas, and one in Monterey. All around college campuses." Mike sighed. "But it makes no sense, most werewolves attack people and turn them or eat their hearts, they don't just stop before they turn them or kill."

"M-maybe the werewolf doesn't want to hurt them?" Davy's voice said from the door making all three of them jump and Mike pulled Micky and Peter behind him.

"Oh, Davy," Mike said "it's just you."

"I thought you were asleep." Peter said. Davy shrugged.

"I was, then I woke up and I'm starving." Davy answered, "What do we have to eat?"

Mike let out a sigh and led the way to the kitchen, Davy practically on his toes and the others following further behind.