Title: Thanks, Trump
Author: Anthea Davis
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Word Count: ~4,000
Primary Pairings/Characters: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale
Rating: PG-13 so far
Content/Warnings: Canon level violence, language, dealing with the End of the World
Summary: TEOTWAWKI – The End of the World As We Know It
Beta: None. Just a casual spell check. No bitching.
A/N: If you want to bitch about the mention of Trump in the title, or in any way want to bring politics into my comments section: Don’t. They will be laughed at, then deleted.
The bombs’ blasts were barely heard in the cover of darkness and so high up in the atmosphere over Continental North America.
Most people weren’t aware of what was planned for America. When they picked up their phones to Snapchat the event, or Facebook, or Twitter it, they found their phones and computers didn’t work. Some people panicked and discovered earlier than most that something was seriously wrong.
Most gave up, rolled over, and went back to sleep, never realising until the next morning.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Stiles murmured to himself when seconds after the noise he heard the lamp beside him and his laptop suddenly loose power. Looking out the window, it looked like the neighbourhood had had a blackout.
Grumbling to himself, he pulled his phone from his pocket but found that was dead too.
Grumbling more vehemently, he stumbled his way to his closet and lifted out his emergency backpack and dug out the flashlight he kept in a side pocket. Walking back to the desk he clicked it on, but nothing. Frowning, he checked his phone again, but it wouldn’t switch on, which was odd as he was fairly sure he still had half a charge left on it.
Giving the night up as a fail, he admitted defeat and decided to go to bed.
He hadn’t been in bed an hour when the sound of his window opening alerted him to a visitor.
“Hey dude,” he said groggily, rolling out of bed.
“Are you out of power too?” Derek demanded without any preamble.
“Yeah, unfortunately. Couldn’t finish that research you were after, sorry.” Stiles yawned.
“And your phone? Does that work?”
“I said sorry, dude. What more do you want?” Stiles stood, angrily pushing past the werewolf to head to the bathroom.
“Not that, Stiles. Does your phone work?” Derek said with a slight bit more patience, but no less urgency.
“No I think it’s flat.”
Derek grunted, looking back out the window with a frown.
“What’s going on, dude?” Stiles crossed his arms over his bare chest, suddenly more awake and aware of whose company he was in.
“I don’t know. But it looks like the power’s out for all Beacon Hills, and my phone doesn’t work either, and I charged it full only a couple of hours ago.”
“Okay, that’s just strange,” Stiles stood up straighter, as his mind kicked into gear.
He changed direction to his closet and pulled his emergency bag out altogether, dumping it on his bed. He rifled through another pocket and withdrew a CB radio.
Clicking it on he immediately changed the station to the frequency the Sheriff’s department used.
But there was nothing. Not even static.
“Well shit, dude. I wonder what could have caused everything to go out.”
Derek’s silence said he didn’t know either.
“Not a whole lot we can do tonight, dude,” Stiles sat down on his bed, staring down at the dead radio in his hands, chewing the corner of his lip.
“My car wouldn’t start, either.” Derek finally added.
“Yeah, didn’t turn over at all. I ran here.”
“And you don’t think it’s a coincidence either, do you?”
Derek said nothing again.
“Alright. How about we go try mine, just in case?”
Grabbing a shirt and some shoes, Stiles led the way down stairs and out the front door to Roscoe. A few moments later after the normal false start, the jeep was purring like normal.
“Ok, so we have one car at least.” Stiles turned it off and locked it again. “It still doesn’t feel like a coincidence.” Stiles frowned, swinging the keys around one finger.
Derek’s glower said as much. That or he was offended the Camaro wouldn’t start when Roscoe did.
“Okay, what’s the plan? Do you think we should go check in with my dad?”
Now that the Sheriff was fully informed on the supernatural, it made life a whole lot easier. Though that had not been a fun conversation. Or week with the ensuing questions that were randomly sprung on him.
“Doesn’t feel supernatural. Could have nothing to do with us,” Derek finally said.
“Probably doesn’t,” Stiles rocked back on his heels. “It still might affect us though. And if it’s not back to normal in a few hours, I can see things going to shit pretty quick.”
Ten minutes later Stiles was dressed properly and had slung his emergency pack in the back seat of Roscoe.
At the station it was a hive of activity; the car park was almost full with the various deputies cars and a few more besides.
Stiles parked out on the street and together they entered the precinct.
Inside the sense of urgency was much more acute. Barb at the front desk was fending off the few night owls who had noticed and were demanding answers. Behind the petition, it was strange to see everyone working on notebooks instead of computers, all the phones were silent. The lights weren’t on, instead there were candles.
No one stopped them as they walked through the bullpen towards the Sheriff’s office. There was a steady stream coming from inside as they waited for a lull to enter.
The sheriff looked up, tired and exasperated. “Stiles, Derek.”
“What’s going on?” Stiles took a seat in front of the desk, pulling Derek down into the other chair.
“We don’t know yet. We’re getting some crazy and mixed reports. We’ve confirmed California is out of power and anything with a computer in it has failed, so phones, computers, the newer cars: all out.” He leaned back in his chair to stretch.
“What are we thinking happened?” Stiles prodded from the edge of his seat.
“We’re still working it. And we don’t want to cause mass panic, so keep your theories quiet for now, okay?” his tone showed just how serious this was.
“Of course. Behind closed doors only. But I’ve been thinking about it, and from what you just said, it sounds like an EMP bomb.” At the two men’s confused stares he continued. “Electromagnetic pulse from a nuclear bomb that if detonated high up in the atmosphere will knock out most if not all technology. We could be looking at something that’s taken out most of the country,” he finished in a whisper.
“And here I was worried it was something supernatural.” The sheriff rubbed at his face tiredly. “This doesn’t leave this office, you hear?”
They nodded mutely as the Sheriff sat back in his chair again, watching as he seemed to deflate right in front of them.
“Take my credit card. I know you have started a stash, but go buy anything else you think we need. And do it quietly. Derek, make sure he doesn’t go too overboard just in case we manage to get through this and I have to pay that credit card back.” He held the card out to them from his wallet.
“We can use mine,” Derek stood, ignoring the offered card.
“Well, take it anyway, just in case.” Stiles took the card with a grin. “Be back here in three hours. That should be around dawn. I don’t want you out there when the panic starts. Be safe.”
The twenty-four hour Walmart in Beacon City was already quite busy, running by candlelight. They made their way in with a trolley each and made their way to the camping section. It had already been picked over in the last little while but they got another big tent and a few backup smaller tents, a few more sleeping bags and another set of camp cookware.
Stiles had a list, stupidly stored on his phone, and a large Pinterest board that was dedicated to the exact situation he found himself in. Doing it from memory wasn’t hard, but he was reluctant to admit that he would forget a lot of things. Admittedly an EM attack wasn’t what he had thought would be most likely, and like everyone in the history of ever, he thought he had more time. He was barely halfway through his planned preparations.
He was kinda thankful he had started on the harder stuff first.
They encountered their first issue in the bottled water aisle where two men were fighting over the last thirty litre water chest. But they had to get past them to get to what was left.
Stiles dithered a moment, unsure how he was going to handle the situation when Derek stepped in front of him, taking the trolley from his hands, leaving him to take the one Derek had been driving.
“Excuse me, please,” Derek said in a clear, loud voice. When neither man seemed to hear over their own argument, he said it again, this time with a hint of a growl to his voice.
“Fuck off, dude,” one of them snarled, or tried to in Stiles estimation. He’d been around werewolves too long to think it was anything but adorably hilarious.
“We just want to move past you.” Derek tried again.
“I will fucking shoot if any of you take one step closer,” the other lunatic brandished a gun from nowhere, making the first lunatic withdraw his own gun.
“And I will fucking shoot if you don’t let that water go!”
“And I will kill the both of you where you stand if you don’t let us pass,” Derek growled, lisp strong as he spoke around the fangs that had grown with the beta shift. A second later the blue eyes flashed.
Moments later the water chest fell to the ground as both lunatics took a step away.
At Derek’s growl, the two scampered away, one dropping their gun in their haste.
“Sweet!” Stiles stepped out from behind and up to the water chest. “Help me load her up!”
Derek just shook his head as he lifted the crate onto the trolley.
“What happened to the Statute of Secrecy, dude?” he asked as they loaded the jeep to the roof.
“Yeah…I’ll pay that.”
The station was busier when they returned. They parked the jeep deep in the staff car park, away from potential onlookers. It was a well known jeep after all.
Inside was just as crazy as expected, and there were more angry people too. They quickly passed them and made it unscathed to the sheriff’s office again. He looked more tired than before. But then he was supposed to finish this double shift in another hour’s time. Not that that would be happening.
He raised a weary brow at them in question as they sat down. Stiles nodded, beaming as the handed the credit card back.
“Am I going to have to take out another mortgage?”
“No, but Derek might.”
“Don’t worry about it, Sheriff. And if the worst happens, it’s not like there will be anyone asking for repayments.”
“Which is looking more and more likely. Everyone we’ve managed to contact so far is in the same position. Someone’s resurrected a morse system so we’re getting updates that way from D.C. It’s not looking good boys.”
“Shit.” Stiles murmured, it was a lot more real now.
“We need to make a base camp, somewhere defensible, somewhere safe.” Derek started, expression determined.
“We’re not staying in suburbia. It’s going to turn to chaos and rioting in a matter of hours.”
“Well, I hope you two have good handwriting because we’re going to be handwriting flyers to let people know to stay indoors, etc. Do it at home, and I’ll send a deputy over to collect what you have done in a few hours.”
The boxes of sharpies and a ream of paper were all the dismissal they got as another deputy walked in the office.
They made it home safely, though there was a lot more activity around now that it was getting later in the morning.
They set up at the kitchen table, their template set up between them as they started to write.
“So do you have any idea where we can make a defensible base? And don’t say the train depo. We are not holeing up in that unsafe dump. We won’t all have werewolf constitutions.” Stiles screwed up the first poster and threw it over his shoulder.
“What is your criteria then?” Derek pushed the first perfect copy into the middle of the table to start the pile.
“Defensible, preferably away from civilisation, close enough to supplies or any farming we may end up needing to do.”
“My house then,” Derek frowned, obviously uncomfortable suggesting it. But Stiles was already shaking his head.
“I’m sorry dude, but it’s not safe, and it’s not fair to make you stay somewhere your whole life burnt to the ground.” Stiles fingers played with the sharpie, getting ink on his fingers.
“I’ve rebuilt it. It’s almost finished. It was going to be a surprise.” Dreek added another perfect poster to the pile, not looking up.
“Really? Wow dude. That is so awesome. I’m glad you were planning for the future. And getting out of the loft. Can only be a bonus. How close to finish are we talking?”
“Last paint before floors and appliances were installed.”
“That will be perfect then dude.”
“Hey dude. How crazy is …. This?” Scott trailed off.
“Hey buddy,” Stiles capped the sharpie and massaged his sore hand.
“I thought for sure you would still be asleep. What are you doing?”
“Flyers for the town. We know the powers out and the cars and phones too.”
“Wow. Do you need me to help?”
“No, actually I have another job for you.” Stiles contemplated a moment. “I want you to take my car and go to Derek’s house in the preserve and unload it, then come back. Pickup Isaac and leave him there to guard the pace and we’ll try and get there asap. I’ll try and have the next load ready when you get back.”
Scott frowned. “What’s going on? Is this the Zombie Apocalypse?” he finished in a whisper.
Stiles snorted mirthlessly. “Apocalypse? Maybe. Zombie? No. That’s the good news.”
“Wow. Okay. Dude, we might actually have a chance of survival now! Werewolves!” He cheered.
“OMG dude, we actually might,” It surprised an actual laugh out of Stiles this time.
“You two actually planned for the Zombie Apocalypse?”
“Totally dude. You haven’t seen our garage, have you? We did it years ago. Dad actually supported us too. It’s still pretty up to date, I think. Next check is in a few months. At least we’ve got a decent ‘Bug Out’ location. We never really did decide where we would bug out to.’
Stiles looked at the pile of flyers they had made. “I think that’s going to have to be enough for now. We really should think about making a move. I really don’t want to be around when the panic starts.”
“My watch doesn’t work. What’s the time anyway?”
“I guess it’s too much to ask either of you might have been Scouts?” Derek sighed, glancing out the window. “It’s around nine am.”
“Yeah, definitely not. And it’s definitely time we moved.”
“You’d trust Stiles with making a fire? The one time he would get it right, he’d probably burn the preserve down.” Scott scoffed, catching Stiles keys.
“Just because it’s true doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt. Be quick. Be safe.”
“Be back soon!”
“You do have some outdoor or survival skills though, don’t you?” Derek frowned.
“Dude, it’s me you’re talking to. I have researched this shit. I may not have a lot of practical experience but I’ve prepared myself and Scotty the best I could.”
“It’s something then.”
“Come on. Let’s get started. We need to get the garage ready for transport.”
Two hours later the sound of the Jeep returning had Stiles and Derek cautiously opening the roller door as Scott backed the jeep up the drive, up close to where they were. With the speed only two werewolves could manage, the jeep was loaded again in another ten minutes and Scott was on his way again.
“I wish we had another car. A truck right now would be a godsend.” Stiles griped as he looked over all the supplies that needed to be moved. There was still two to three loads to go.
“Maybe that’s something we can think about tonight, depending on the state of the shops, or if any rioting starts.”
“You think we should we should grab a lorrey?”
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea. Besides, we don’t have any furniture yet. At the least, we should see if we can get some mattresses. It’ll get old sleeping on concrete pretty quick.”
“Good idea, dude.”
“Once we’ve moved to the house, I’ll go and check what caches we have left.”
“You have caches?” Stiles asked incredulously.
“But of course, Stiles. You weren’t the only one who planned for the end of days.” Peter smirked as he stood inside the back door.
“Uncle Creeper,” Stiles acknowledged with a frown. “Of course you’re here.”
“Well, when I saw that the power and technology were out, and my beloved nephew absent, I knew exactly where I needed to be. I’ve brought the truck too.” He’d obviously overheard their conversation.
Stiles wanted to claw the smug grin off the werewolf’s face with his very human fingers, but unfortunately, by his own internal timer and checklists, he was going to just have to be grateful.
“Do you have rope and tarps too?”
“Always, Stiles. You never know who you many need to bury. I have shovels too.”
“Typical. We might need them later though.”
“I’ve also checked the cache’s between here and the loft. Both still intact, though a little out of date,” Peter frowned reprovingly.
“You could have done it,” Derek defended. “The two in the preserve I updated last year. I haven’t had a chance for the others.”
“Then I shall do that whilst you are busy tonight.”
“Stiles?” The Sheriff’s voice called from the kitchen.
“Garage.” Stiles called back, the Sheriff joined them moments later.
“That answers who’s truck that is,” the Sheriff glowered at Peter.
“At least he’s helpful at the moment.” Stiles counted that as a win for now. “Are you backed up to the door?”
“Alright, well you two werewolves load up. The quicker we can get out of here the better.”
Back in the kitchen, Stiles handed over the completed flyers.
“Thanks for doing this. I know it’s not what you would have wanted to spend the morning on.”
“It’s all good. If we can do anything to delay the mass panic, I’m for it. And Scott actually woke up before midday for once. I’ve already set him to work. So don’t arrest him for driving the Jeep.”
“I’ll make a note. Where are you bugging out to?”
“Derek’s. He rebuilt the Hale house, dad.”
“You think he may have actually stayed then?”
Stiles wasn’t sure what to make of the bemused smile on his dad’s face. “I think so.”
“Well, be carefull. I’ll join you when I can. And if I see anyone, I’ll point them in that direction.”
“Thanks dad. Be safe.”
Stiles didn’t cry when they hugged, or when he watched his father leave. There must have been something in his eye.
When he went back to the garage it was to find them just finishing tying the tarp down and the room looked huge in how empty it was.
“Awesome work guys!”
“Is there anything else that needs to go?” Derek crossed his arms over his chest.
“A few bits and pieces in my room. And I’ll probably pack another bag for me and my dad for the clothes and stuff.”
“And then we should really get going.” Peter watched the front yard.
“Yeah, I can hear a lot more people active and agitated than earlier.” Derek’s frown deepened.
“Alright, give me ten minutes and we can be out of here.”
The drive across town was a nail biting affair due to the uncertainty. Some people were carrying on like normal, enjoying the unexpected day off. There were a few like them that recognised it for the apocalypse it could be. It wouldn’t take long before the looting started, not that it would make a whole lot of difference if there wasn’t going to be any electricity to power their ill gotten goods.
The Hale house was built five minutes drive into the preserve, through thick forest that protected the house in a moderately sized clearing. It was a gorgeous house, three story with generous verandahs around the entire ground floor.
It was a perfect pack house.
It should make a decent ‘Bug Out’ location. Especially with all of Stiles’ prep stuff sitting out the front of it at the moment. All the stuff that Siles is suddenly realising is probably not going to be enough.
He hadn’t changed the prep plan to take into consideration the pack. True, it had only been a recent development, having the pack. But that was still years worth of forgetfulness that they may end up paying for.
Stiles snapped to look at Derek. Judging by the concerned frown, it may not have been the first time he’d tried to get his attention.
“Stiles, breathe,” Derek said, calmly taking an exaggerated breath.
Stiles mimicked it, only now just realising he was on the cusp of a panic attack.
“We’re going to be alright, just breathe.”
“No, we don’t have enough! I didn’t plan for the pack.” He gasped, still struggling to take measured breaths.
“You aren’t the only one who is prepared for the end of the world, Stiles.” Peter drawled. “Don’t worry, we will have enough.”
Stiles nodded, feeling somewhat more reassured. Knowing Peter, he probably had been preparing for decades, whether it was a personal cache or prepping for TEOTWAWKI didn’t much matter at this point as long as Peter didn’t have ulterior motives.
And no. He was not going to have a panic attack all over Derek Hale.
The Creeper wolf just smirked at him and went to the back of the truck.
Derek pushed him to sit down on the steps by the front door while the werewolves made quick work of the truck, making the pile a bit larger.
After ten minutes Stiles felt like he could move again. With a clearer head he waded into the tower of supplies and dug out a heavy duty chest. It was a little buried but Isaac helped him fish it out and crack it open. Again, it wasn’t something he had updated in a long time, but it would still aid them now.
Back when he first started seriously prepping, this box was his bible. All the information he could possibly find about sustainable living, and living off grid had been printed off and filed away in a series of binders that he had stored in the chest, hoping it would be able to withstand any natural or unnatural disaster that might befall them.
Now he was just glad that he had followed that tangential rabbit hole and managed to convince his dad and Scott to go along with him.
“We should move this stuff inside,” Derek came up beside him, hands on his hips as he looked at the stash. “Go through it all, work out what we still need.”
Stiles took another deep breath to keep himself on an even keel, “I barely even know where to start now that we actually need all this stuff.”
“That’s why we’ll go through it all and starts making some lists and plans.” Derek picked up the nearest box and stacked it on top of another two boxes, then picked all three up.
Stiles nodded with a sigh, picking up the chest with some difficulty and moving it inside. It was the work of only five minutes to have everything moved inside and some sorting to already take place. The obvious food containers were moved into the kitchen and the personal belongings were moved near the staircase.
“So, are you going to give us the grand tour?” Stiles grinned, eagerly looking around corners, about to start his own self guided tour.
Derek rolled his eyes but started anyway when both Scott and Isaac started following.