A week had passed since the attack and life had continued on like normal. You'd been trying to get a couple of your guy friends to go with you back to the bar but their work schedules were as hectic as your own and so far had been unable to agree on an evening to go out. At least they hadn't questioned you on why you wanted to go to that particular one, so far out of the way and nothing like the usual ones you all liked to go to together.

For the time being, you focused on doing things like usual. Sleep, eat, work. It didn't get more dull than that but you were hoping seeing Shanks again might change that. Something about him was too enticing to ignore and it had nothing to do with how he'd tried "glamoring" you before.

It was another day of work for you now as you were covering a shift for another girl. You were a waitress at a local mom and pop restaurant and you were stuck working the night shift for your coworker. While it wasn't your favorite time to be waiting tables, you weren't one to turn down a bigger paycheck or more tips. Anyone passing through the city didn't tip all that well but the locals did and with it being a Wednesday evening, you were betting there'd be more of the locals in tonight.

As you got ready in the bathroom, you couldn't help but check over your marks. It was something you'd been doing every day and you were beginning to see the color changes in the bruising. It'd gone from the vivid, dark purples to the sickly yellows. They were definitely healing and were much less tender than before. The problem was, the nicks on your shoulder blade weren't doing the same. They should have been almost completely healed by now but they were as fresh as the first time you'd seen them.

Even more worrying was when you turned to check them before throwing on your work shirt, you noticed they looked irritated today. The skin around them had become red and inflamed and when you gingerly poked around them, they were somehow sore and warm. They'd stayed clean so it didn't make any sense for them to be looking how they did.

You frowned. They'd have to be cleaned better when you got home. It'd be a pain to have to go to the doctor for this, you'd never see the end of the hospital bills. Besides, it didn't look like something a little rubbing alcohol couldn't fix up.

----

"Hey doll, why don't you get me a new drink?" A man called gruffly from a table as you walked past.

He reached out to smack your ass and right before he could, you caught him by the wrist, balancing the heavy tray of food you carried in your one hand. His eyes widened and the table fell into a roar of laughter at his failed attempt of harassment.

"I think you've had enough." You huffed, releasing him.

He blushed and grumbled under his breath as he scowled at his friends, too embarrassed to even grace you with a reply. You were lucky your boss didn't tolerate harassment and let the wait staff handle it appropriately. And if you couldn't, he was always more than happy to cut in and take care of the problem himself. But you'd let this one slide. The customer was disgusting but he'd learned his lesson.

He was lucky you didn't make more of an example out of him than you already did actually. Your shoulder had quickly gone from a little inflamed and irritated to extremely sensitive fast. Fabric brushing against it hurt and with you constantly moving, it was a non-stop pain. It felt like it was on fire, the burning sensation radiating across your entire upper back. And to top it all off, as the night wore on, you felt more and more restless. You felt like you could go for a marathon run, something that'd never crossed your mind before until now. At the same time, you felt an overbearing urge to start a fight, like Eustass Kid after one too many drinks.

You made your way to a different table, handing out their meals with a smile before catching sight of another one of your tables being filled. Being a weeknight, it was relatively slow so you didn't have too much to stay on top of but you planned on giving this table your full attention, probably more than they wanted. It was just your luck that Shanks had happened to come here. He was with a group of men you didn't recognize but you didn't care, you'd find a way to talk with him. Before you were hoping to just thank him, now you were wondering if maybe a scratch from a were animal could be more dangerous than you originally thought.

Another waiteress moved to walk past you, heading to the kitchen and you snatched her by the crook of the elbow.

"Uh, can I help you (Y/n)?" She watched you with wide, puzzled eyes.

"Vivi, I need you to do me a favor and take care of my tables."

"What? You're kidding, right?"

"Please? I need to talk with them, I swear it's important, I wouldn't ask for you to bend over backwards otherwise."

She frowned and stayed silent, wanting you to add more.

"I promise I'll cover whatever shifts you need me to for the next month if you do this."

She sighed, pushing a bit of vibrant blue hair out of her face. "How long do you need me to cover you?"

"Um, not sure yet. I'll let you know when I'm done."

You handed her your empty tray and headed to Shanks' table, mouthing a silent thank you to the now pouting woman. She'd live.

The men were all jesting to one of their friends, a rather robust, smiley man, as you approached. They all turned to you, ready to start spouting out drink orders until you snagged a chair from a neighboring empty table and sat among them. Shanks was directly in front of you and the robust man was to one side of you with a more normal sized, greying man to the other. Shanks seemed to recognize you quickly, the playfulness he shared with his friends leaving his eyes in a matter of moments.

"Miss (Y/n), correct? I didn't think I'd find you here."

"I live in the area, work here." You shrugged. "Can we discuss something?"

"I don't mean to be rude, but shouldn't you be working?"

"Thanks for the concern but my tables are covered."

"I thought I told you to forget about what we dealt with last time." He knew exactly why you were here.

"That's a little difficult at the moment. Listen–"

"Forget about it." He insisted, a much more stern, warning tone to his voice.

You didn't like being treated like a child, it was something you weren't about to just sit here and take.

"I'm not here to fangirl or shoot the shit with you." You hissed as you clenched your jaw. Your temper was especially short today. "I would like to speak with you about something important, now would you like to do that here or somewhere more private?"

You nodded your head towards the door. While your knowledge of the supernatural was limited, you did know that some creatures preferred fitting in and chose to hide what they were. You weren't sure if Shanks was that way, but you were trying to accommodate him if he was. There was no way to tell if his friends were human or not, if they knew what he was.

"...Here is fine." He leaned back in his chair, the sleeve of his knotted off jacket catching your eye as it swayed.

It was the same jacket as before and you couldn't help but notice the arm was still missing. Not that it'd magically come back, but you weren't sure if your mind was playing tricks on you when you were drunk. You were in a tense situation at the time and nothing would surprise you at this point.

You were silently thankful that his friends were being polite enough to stay quiet. Besides the two on either side of you, there were two more. All four of them watched you keenly, trying to figure out your relationship with Shanks.

"You were worried about my friend and I being harmed after that attack. That's understandable but I want to know what would happen if, let's say one of us had been hurt."

"That's a strange thing to ask after you assured me you were fine." He visibly tensed and you felt yourself stiffen up instinctively as well.

"I didn't find anything in the heat of the moment but the morning after was a different story. I'd realized that the night before, it'd pinned me and it's claws had dug in a bit. The marks didn't heal and now they seem to be getting worse."

He cursed under his breath before turning to the grey haired man beside you. "Any idea when the next full moon is Benn?"

"Full moon?" You looked between the two men with mounting horror. "You aren't suggesting–"

"Wounds from a werebeast aren't always dangerous but what they carry is a disease, one that is highly contagious in their animal forms. If your cuts haven't healed and are now getting worse, there's a good chance you might have caught it."

"You're joking, right?" Your skin suddenly felt cold. The supernatural were interesting to you but you never wanted to be one, or at least the thought had never crossed your mind.

"No, I'm not."

"A few days." The man beside you, Benn said. "Full moon is coming up in a few days."

"Okay," Shanks rubbed his face with his one hand. "We need to come up with a plan to deal with this."

"What kind of plan? I don't understand....."

He nodded to Benn as they all stood up. You were confused, but it was only more puzzling when Benn carefully grabbed you by the arm.

"What're you doing?" You tried making him let go but his grip tightened in response.

The commotion had neighboring tables quieting down and watching as you were being dragged to the front door of the restaurant against your will.

"Relax miss (Y/n)." Shanks caught your eyes with his own and you suddenly no longer had the urge to resist. "We're trying to help you, let's not make a scene."

It was like the only thing you could focus on was his voice and movements. He waved you forward and an overwhelming urge to respond hit you. Your body moved without you thinking and you followed him out the door. No one in the restaurant tried to stop him, either because the scene was too strange to figure out or because they didn't think they could do anything to help. Shanks had marked himself as obviously something not human and that was enough to keep many people at bay.

You were led through the parking lot to a couple cars where he paused.

"Roux, Rockstar, you guys can head out. Benn and I will be able to handle miss (Y/n)."

"We'll have to reschedule for another day then." The bigger of the two replied with an unwaivering smile.

As soon as they entered one vehicle, Benn opened the back door of the other for you to slide in. Still under Shanks' influence, you did so without a word while he took the driver's seat. Shanks fell into the seat beside you from the other side with a deep sigh.

"Take us to see Mihawk, he should be able to help." He said to Benn before turning to face you.

As soon as Benn pulled out of the parking lot and the doors locked, you snapped out of your state.

"Did you do that thing again?" You sputtered as you glanced around the car. It was a luxury vehicle with dark tinted windows, all leather seats, and more buttons in the front than you thought would ever be necessary in a car.

"Glamor? Yes. Dragging you out physically would have caused problems."

"This is a kidnapping!" You hissed.

"Or a prevention of murder. It really depends on how you look at it."

"How would this prevent murder?"

"What do you know about werebeasts?"

"You aren't answering the question."

"It'll be answered if you play along."

You let out a huff as you stared out your window. The city rolled past at a lazy pace as Benn drove, hitting the occasional red light. He was quiet and by no means in a rush. That gave you time to figure out what the hell was going on.

"They turn furry under the full moon and are a little more animalistic than humans. They have more animal instincts."

"That's about what most people know." He stretched his legs out, getting in your space more than you would've liked given the situation. "I thought you'd be more of a fanatic when we met, I'm a little disappointed that isn't the case."

"Can we get to the point?"

He chuckled and raised his hand in defense. "It's a little too early for you to be trying to bite my head off, give it a few days. My point is, based on what you've said, you know next to nothing about what you're soon going to be. Ignorance can be dangerous and in cases like this, it very much is."

"Okay, educate me then."

"I'd love to." He practically chirped happily. "You're what werebeasts would call new blood; a new animal who wasn't born with the disease. In a case like yours where the person is infected with the disease without their knowledge or consent, things tend to get messy."

"Messy how?"

He leaned forward and you focused on anything but his eyes. If he could glamor you with them, you just wouldn't make eye contact.

"Let's say you hit your first full moon alone, without any help. Maybe you're home, maybe you're at work, who knows? When someone has their first change, they don't understand what's happening. It's painful, frightening, and most importantly, you'll lose control of yourself. New instincts are hard to understand and I can promise you, the first thing you'll want to do when you've shifted is hunt."

Now you knew what he meant by murder. A chill ran down your spine and you dug your nails into your palms to keep from shaking. "Are you suggesting I'd kill someone?"

"Not intentionally, but yes. The first living thing you'd come across would be the first thing you'd want to kill. It wouldn't be a conscious decision but it's still better to be avoided for many, obvious reasons."

"Holy shit." You slumped back into the seat. "That's still going to happen though, right?"

"You're still going to change and you're still going to need to hunt something. But that's why I'm here. I'm glad we happened across you when we did, it seems luck is on our side. We're going to see about getting you somewhere you can have your first shift harmlessly."

"Doesn't the state have options for that?" You asked, now nervous. This was going to be totally new and that scared you, especially with how serious it was.

"State sanctioned hunting grounds are an option but what do you think will happen if you show up to one?" Benn asked a question of his own in response.

"I dunno, it'd be safe?" You answered sarcastically.

"Sure." Shanks shrugged. "It would be but there's more to it than that. The supernatural are hard for you humans to deal with and in an attempt to make us easier to understand and hold to the same standards they hold each other, they like to keep track of us."

"Keep track how?"

"Simple, an identification card. Something as simple as a driver's license or a state id card can be altered to include supernatural information. If you go to a set hunting ground and show that you are a werebeast, I can promise you they'll be adding that to your id."

"I don't get why that's a big deal."

"Discrimination against skin color, religion, or really anything else doesn't compare to discrimination against the supernatural." Benn spoke up again. "If people know what you are, most will treat you like a monster. And if what you are is linked to a disease, one that can be contagious under the right circumstances, it's even worse. Trust me, you don't want people knowing what you are."

"But it can't be that easy to hide and it sounds like your suggesting it's not always contagious."

"It isn't." Shanks took over the conversation once again. "Any kind of werebeast in their human form is practically safe."

"That's debatable." Benn chuckled.

Shanks rolled his eyes and smirked at his friend. "The disease cannot be contracted unless some part of them is changed and they break the skin. Some say the blood while shifted can have the same effect if ingested but that's still being researched."

"And how do I know you aren't just lying about all this and abducting me for some other reason?" You weren't sure if believing all this blindly was a good idea.

"You'll have your answer to that in a few nights."

The car came to a stop and you found it had parked in front of a large house. Thick woods framed it and based on what you could see, or in this case, couldn't, there were no neighbors in sight. No other homes or lights beyond the trees. You didn't remember leaving the city limits but you must have. Even without catching your eyes, Shanks had kept you distracted to what was happening around you.

Even if you had just been stolen away, this wouldn't be easy to leave. You were hoping you hadn't somehow given yourself up to a couple of psychotic men. And more than that, you were hoping the next few days turned out okay, no matter what exactly was happening.