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Remy wasn't going to let a little thing like the Apocalypse stop him from serving coffee. It wasn't his Starbucks, but the owners and baristas were gone, and he had needed coffee so desperately that he'd taught himself how to use the machines and then had just… never left.
It had been while he was enjoying the latest of his perfectly foamy coffees that someone had slipped in through the partially barricaded doors, jumped at seeing someone behind the counter holding a coffee, and had instantly brightened.
"You're still serving?!" The intruder had cried, relief dripping of them. "Oh my god, caffeine me up, please."
"Oh no I'm n- fuck it, why not?" Remy muttered, grabbing a mug and setting the machines to work. "How do you take it?"
That was how he met Virgil, customer number one, covered in worrying stains and wielding what was apparently a handaxe stolen from a nearby hardware store. Virgil left with a smile and a wave and Remy full expected never to see him again.
But the next day, there he was, slipping through the entrance with someone hot on his heels. "I don't see wh- coffee!" The second person had gasped. Logan, it turned out was his name, and he wore a tie and faded shirt and slacks, hair a wild mess and glasses slightly scuffed. He was a scientist, he said, but Virgil kept punching him in the arm whenever he started to discuss what he was working on, and Remy got the impression it wasn't something entirely government sanctioned, whatever it was…
For a few more days they were Remy's only two regular customers, if they could be called customers when they didn't pay and sometimes just hung out chatting to him about various things. He learned Virgil could get extremely heated about bands and Logan really lit up where science in general was concerned (there was no end of the elbowing from Virgil when he went on a tangent there, skirting too close to what he was researching).
Then all of a sudden there were new people. It started with a ruckus outside, and the sound of running, and then two voices started to harshly whisper and get gradually closer until they found the entrance to Remy's Starbucks.
"Oh my gosh!" The first one gasped. "Are you okay in here?! Roman look there's a barista here!"
"I see," Roman said slowly, holding onto his- was that a katana?! "You're not infected, are you?"
Remy had the sudden urge to hold his hands up but resisted, shaking his head instead. "No, I just make coffee," he replied.
"Oh, well, I guess two coffees then? Make Patton's one really caffeine light though," Roman said, grabbing some napkins to wipe the katana down (Remy didn't look too closely), as Patton nodded seriously.
"I get very hyper," he said in a stage whisper, breaking into a little giggle.
So Roman and Patton became the third and fourth regulars of Remy's Starbucks. They must have set up camp a little way away, or have some sort of established routine, because he saw them like clockwork every three days. They got along well enough with Virgil and Logan, which was to say Patton got along well enough with them. Roman seemed to rub both of Remy's original customers the wrong way, but he was nice enough. It was more that trying to attack someone for fear they were infected left kind of a bad first impression and Virgil hadn't forgiven him for it. Logan mostly just didn't like anyone who scoffed at science.
The four of them came and went, and then at last the final set of regulars appeared, to complete the set that would finally see him finishing the coffee stocks.
The next two unfortunately showed up just as Virgil and Logan were sitting and sipping their (increasingly less milky) coffees one morning. They were heralded by the sound of one far too loud voice arguing with a softer one that hissed back.
Another two men spilled into the Starbucks, finding the doorway as most did. One was carrying the other as the second one hopped, wincing. He had scarring covering a good portion of his face and his hands, and the wound on his leg looked like…
"Is that a bite?!" Virgil gasped, grabbing his axe. He pushed Logan behind him and Remy cast around for something to defend himself if it became necessary. The loud man just laughed, helping his friend sit down.
"Sure is, feisty. Don't worry though, Dee is immune! Got dosed in some miraculous cure-all and here we are. You still shouldn't have got so close, Dee, I was gonna try and tame it!"
"You can't keep infected people as pets, Remus," Dee replied mildly, completely ignoring the tense trio and prodding at the bite mark on his ankle. There were more, Remy realised, older ones, some scabbed over and some just pink marks. He'd been bitten a lot.
Logan obviously noticed too, snapping out of his usual distant thoughts to focus intently on the newcomer. "Did you say you're immune?!" He asked sharply. Dee nodded, gesturing to his leg as evidence and Logan was over and inspecting it carefully before Virgil could hold him back. He hovered near his scientist's shoulder anxiously anyway, axe ready.
Remus, no longer under threat of a good axing, wandered to the counter, stretching and cracking his back with a sigh. "I swear this one was tamer than most. I could'a done it," he said conversationally, and Remy just faintly smiled back. Remus grinned at him."So, how about a mocha whip?"
In sixteen days Remy would run out of supplies entirely. In sixteen days his regulars- friends?- would find him, miserably packing his little life away, trying to bring himself to turn the machines off. In seventeen days he would be living with Virgil and Logan, and Dee and Remus who had been moved in so Logan could conduct his experiments. It turned out Remus was actually a very capable and innovative lab assistant. Roman and Patton came by more and more frequently before also joining the party, choosing a different abandoned apartment in the same block. They still went out on patrol, and returned one day lugging bags of coffee grounds with big smiles.
And so Remy's Starbucks would be back. Just business as usual during the apocalypse.