The Code
"Haven't seen you here in a while, Sugar." A petite brunette in a green apron says, walking over to where the hunter sits at the bar. She holds a tall glass full of soapy water, dish rag hanging out the side. "What can I get'cha?"
"Things have been rough lately. Getting more out of hand by the day." Chris Argent states in a gruff, tired voice. "Scotch, please."
"Don't need to tell me twice, Hun." The bartender reckoned, pouring the scotch. She slides it across the counter, motioning around the empty bar. "We've been losing customers by the hordes. Owner's been thinking about shutting this place down for weeks."
A look of horror crosses the Argent's face. "But this is the finest establishment in all of Beacon Hills!"
"Was the finest establishment." Sighing, she places the glass on the counter. She shrugs. "Folks have been causing a lot of ruckus lately. Fights breaking out daily. That sort of thing, y'know? All started about 6 years ago I suppose… Say where's your friend with the pretty blue eyes, what's-his-name, Patrick? Perry? Parker?"
"Peter."
"Peter! Right. What's he up to these days?"
"He's…" The words stick in his throat. "He's dead. 6 years ago."
"Oh… Sorry to hear that. I liked him. Real sweet guy."
After several moments of silence pass, Chris still hasn't touched his drink. He flicks the straw around for a while, watching the ice move alongside it. The bartender absentmindedly picks up the glass again, occupying herself. Both of them stare at the countertop, neither of them knowing what to say.
"My sister set the fire."
"She caused quite a bit of trouble here too. Both her and your father, Gerard." She began wiping the counter. "Influenced a fair amount of people with their antics. Honourable men turned savage. Say, last night in business. Care for one last dance, sweet cheeks?"
She saunters over to the juke box, puts a quarter in. Billy Joel's Just the Way You Are begins to play. Chris laughs at the song choice. Fitting, he thinks to himself.
"Don't have a choice, do I?"
"Nope!" She winks. Taking his arm, she leads him over to the dance floor.
"I'm really going to miss this place." He mutters, taking in the familiar surroundings, as feelings of nostalgia take over. The hunters and werewolves getting along, having a beer over there, huddled around the one TV arguing about who's going to win the game, cheering when their team scored. All that's long gone now.
"It'll never really be gone." She says once the song ends. "This place will always have a special place in our hearts. Never forget, Chris. Never."
"What's going to happen when it closes?"
"I'm not sure. Things are going to get real ugly, real fast. Get out? Stop hunting? I hear Spain's nice this time of year."
The two of them laugh. Hours pass, neither wanting the time shared here to end. But it does.
Chris stands in the parking lot, staring up at the sign, watching as the neon letters fade to nothing. THE CODE no longer burning bright.