"Is that really a good idea?"

"It's one drink, Peter, it's not gonna kill me. Hell, it'll hardly affect me." The brunette replies dryly, tossing the rest of her drink back. She looks to her companion and rolls her eyes at his disapproving expression, "You could use a drink too; you're so uptight."

"Yes, well, we're supposed to be heading to the Lockwoods, not sitting at a bar and participating in underage drinking," Peter points out, finally bringing up the reason they'd come all the way to Mystic Falls.

"Exactly," Valerie drawls out the word exaggeratedly, smirking sardonically and pointing a finger at him, "We're going to a funeral. Everyone could use a drink!"

Peter scoffs, "One, it's not a funeral; it's a wake. Two, you're not stressed about the wake; from what I've heard, from you and nearly everyone else, Mayor Lockwood was a dick," He pauses to snatch the drink out of her hand that she had just gotten refilled by the bartender, "Three, you're a terrible liar. You and I both know you're worried about the family reunion."

Valerie pouts and makes grabby hands at the glass but Peter's already dumping it in a nearby trashcan. Sighing loudly and tossing her head back in frustration she relents, "Fine, I admit it, I don't wanna see them. We're not exactly on the best of terms, Petie."

Taking pity on her, Peter wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her into his side, "You worry too much, Val. You haven't seen them in over a year. I'm sure they miss you as much as you miss them." He finishes, smiling into her hair.

Valerie groans and pushes herself away from him, sliding all the way back into her stool she had been precariously hanging off of. Her elbows set on the bar, she puts her head in her hands and argues, "That's just it, Peter. We haven't seen each other in over a year. I left them after Mom and Dad's funeral, without a goodbye, without any explanation. They must hate me," She confesses pitifully, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

"Hey, hey," Her best friend grabs her wrists and pulls her hands from her face so he can look her in the eyes, "You had a good reason, Val. You didn't just abandon them. It's not in you to do that; you'd never abandon family. You had to leave, Valerie. You were protecting them."

Blinking back tears, the younger of the two laughs a bit hysterically, "Yeah, Peter, and how exactly am I gonna explain that to them?" She puts on a serious expression and mocks, "I'm so sorry for leaving you after our parents died. It's just that I lost control of my emotions and was scared of turning into a raging monster and biting your face off!" She reaches for her drink and laugh bitterly when her hand grasps nothing, "Because, without a tight rein on my emotions, I can't control the shift. What shift? Oh yeah, I'm a werewolf. That mystical creature Dad used to tell horror stories about."

Valerie throws her head back and laughs, even as tears form in her eyes again, "Yes, Peter. That'll go swell." Her bottom lip quivers and she bites down hard with a bit of fang, tucking her head down to hide her glowing eyes and elongated teeth; she tightens her clawed hands into fists and takes deep, shuddering breaths.

Glancing around in a bit of justified paranoia, Peter leans toward Valerie and puts a hand on her back, only flinching slightly when she quietly snarls at him, "Calm down, Val. Deep breaths. Focus."

She takes a deep breath and holds it, repeating three names over and over until her wolfish features fade.

JeremyElenaPeter.

Jeremy, Elena, Peter.

Jeremy. Elena. Peter.

Once calmed down, Valerie releases a tremulous breath and smiles self-deprecatingly at her loss of control, "I haven't lost control like that in months. This is ridiculous, Peter. We should just go. We don't need to pay our respects and I don't need to see the rest of my family. They're better off without me anyhow."

Pulling away from her now that she's calmed down, Peter pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. They've had this conversation nearly a dozen times now, "Valerie, it's tradition to pay our respects to fellow wolves, triggered or not. You knew Mayor Lockwood and his son, and we both know Mason. And yes, you do need to see your brother and sister; I know you miss them. And no, they're not better off without you, not now that you have control," He finishes his response almost mechanically, having said it several times the past day.

"They're not even sending him off the traditonal way," she whines, trying to take the focus off of her. But, unable to resist, quickly quips, "Not that the asshole deserves that respect."

Peter cuffs her on the back of the head for her crudeness and lets the change in the subject slide because he's tired of the repetitive argument. "It's best not to speak ill of the dead, brat," he reprimands in a serious tone, concealing a smirk in his shoulder.

Valerie Gilbert snickers, not even fazed at the hit to her head and secretly relieved he let her obvious attempt to change the subject go. She stands from her stool and pulls her bag over her shoulder, "Come along, Petie. It's time to go pay our respects."

Peter Garroway releases a theatrical sigh of relief and stands to leave, "Finally, I really don't like this place. I mean, seriously, Mystic Grill? Where's the originality?"

Hi, I've never done this before. Criticism is welcome.