A/N: I...don't know where this came from. I've just been wanting to write a post-apocalyptic!AU. Enjoy?

Warnings: language, possible OOC behavior, violence, gore, etc..

Apocalypse

Prologue

That day had started out normally enough - it was June 28th, some days before their birthdays, which meant that Matthew was being dragged around everywhere by Alfred in order to prepare for their parties. Or, rather, Alfred's party, with Matthew being forced to celebrate with him.

"Al," Matthew sighed as Alfred pulled him into the thirtieth American Eagle store for that day, "you have five days. I don't think it's necessary to shop for an outfit this early." The party, they decided, would be on the third of July, to make it in between their birthdays.

"Yeah, but you never know what could happen," Alfred said as he busily grabbed various articles of clothing. The woman at the cash register looked about to throw up, but she managed to glare at them. "There could be a major power failure or something! Or the world could end! The least we can do is die looking good." With his fair blond hair, sky blue eyes, and million-watt smile, Matthew thought, Alfred could die anytime and look good. (Once, he told Alfred just that, and Alfred replied, "Well, you look exactly like me, so same goes for you, haha!")

Matthew exhaled, deciding that it would be useless to argue. He was pushed into one of the dressing rooms in the back, forced into a stall, then was promptly dumped on a large pile of clothes.

"Try them on," Alfred commanded. He shook a shirt in front of his best friend's face. "You can't be wearing that stupid hoodie all the time."

Snatching the shirt from Alfred's hands, Matthew scowled. "Fine," he said, biting back a rather nasty French expletive. As Alfred reclined on a small bench within the stall, Matthew changed into the shirt, deliberately throwing his hoodie at the American's face.

Alfred didn't look up from his Blackberry. "Hey, Mattie, there's a Tony's right down the street," he chirped. "We should grab some pizza after this."

Thanking the Queen that it wasn't hamburgers this time, Matthew nodded. "Okay." He was getting hungry, anyway. "There," he said, finishing the last button on the dress shirt. "Done."

"Hm?" Alfred put down his phone and cocked his head to the side. "Not bad, actually." He stood and, with an innocent smile on his face, reached forward and began to straighten out Matthew's wavy locks.

"Bastard!" Matthew slapped his hands away, cheeks burning at their close proximity.

Alfred grinned, patting the slightly shorter boy's head. "You know you love it." He winked.

Matthew pushed him back down on the bench, huffing petulantly as he changed out of the shirt. It still felt a little weird to be changing in front of his crush(What? Alfred honestly teased him like that while expecting no romantic feelings to form?), but he could deal with it. Plus, he found that he was doing it a lot more often. "Can we go now?" he asked impatiently when he was back in his red maple leaf hoodie.

Something crashed outside. Matthew jumped, whirling around to face the stall's door. "What was that?" he asked worriedly.

"Probably those clumsy employees," Alfred said, still mindlessly texting away. "C'mon, Mattie, you still have three more outfits to try on."

Matthew let his gaze linger on the door a little more. "Let me put this back first," he said, grabbing the shirt that he'd already tried on.

"Hurry up!" Alfred called after him.

When Matthew stepped out from the dressing room area, he noticed that something wasn't right.

In fact, things seemed very, very wrong.

The store was empty. He could clearly remember there being at least seven other people when they first entered, but now no one was in sight. The woman at the counter was gone, too. Maybe she went to the bathroom, Matthew reasoned.

The Canadian tried to brush off the chill that ran up his spine. He hurried to the clothing rack on the wall, hastily hanging the hanger. As he turned to head back to the dressing room and tell Alfred that he wanted to get the fuck out of here, he noticed something broken on the floor behind the counter.

After looking around and deciding that the cashier wasn't returning anytime soon, he slid over the counter top to the other side. He saw the noise of the crash he'd heard earlier: It was a TV, one that had been hanging on the wall before.

Why was it on the floor?

Matthew decided that it wasn't his business. He turned to leave, only to come face-to-face with the cashier. "I-I'm sorry for intruding!" Matthew said quickly, stumbling on his words. "I didn't take anything, I promise!"

The woman's sunken eyes stared at him, blank and almost unseeing. Her pupils were dilated to the point that Matthew could barely tell her eye color. "I'll leave now," he whispered, taking a step back.

He got about two feet away when the woman snarled and lunged for him.

Matthew yelped when her arms caught him around the waist. He crashed to the floor, landing on his back with a thump. "I didn't steal anything!" he cried helplessly. The woman's nails dug into his waist and he tried to kick her off.

The thing that scared him most, besides just noticing how pale and sick and dead the woman looked, was that she was baring her teeth - razor sharp canines - and going straight for his face.

One of his hands found a piece of the broken TV. He clenched it tightly and brought it down on the woman's head. She was fazed for mere seconds, so Matthew switched tactics and sunk the pointy tip of glass into the back of her neck.

She went limp on top of him; Matthew pushed her off and skittered backwards, then whimpered softly when his hand landed on another piece of broken glass.

"Mattie? What's with all the noise?" And then Alfred was standing, leaning over the counter. He was smiling, but that turned into a small frown when he saw the bloody woman and Matthew, still clutching his makeshift weapon.

"Alfred," the younger of the two stammered. He rose to his feet, stepping carefully around the limp body of the woman. "She was trying to..." He trailed off, realizing he was still holding the bloody piece of plastic. He dropped it.

Alfred said nothing, only helping Matthew out from behind the counter. Matthew was still babbling incoherently, tears pricking at his eyes. "Al, I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to, I swear!"

"It's okay, Mattie." Alfred took his hand and squeezed it comfortingly. His blue eyes, a shade darker like they became when he was serious, roamed the deserted store. "Where's everyone?" he whispered.

"I don't know," Matthew said, his voice equally as quiet. "Do you know what's going on...?"

Alfred pushed his Blackberry into Matthew's other hand, saying no more. Before Matthew could stop him, he made his way outside the store.

Matthew looked down at the sleek phone in his hand, at the video. He pressed play.

. . .

"How did it happen?" Matthew's mind was bursting with questions. He was outside with Alfred now, still feeling shell-shocked.

"They say it's a virus," Alfred answered quietly. "A recent breakout, but it's spreading fast."

How is he so calm about this? Matthew wondered. "And everyone ran when they saw it on that TV," Matthew said, looking down at the empty shops across the street.

"Either that or they saw that woman trying to eat their brains out." Alfred laughed humorlessly.

There was silence between the two friends. It made Matthew feel unsettling with the already eerie quietness of their surroundings. "I want to go home," he suddenly said, his throat going dry.

"I'll drive," Alfred said, taking his hand again.

Matthew took a deep breath and followed, wondering if the world was really going to end.

A/N: The real stuff happens in the next chapter. And I'll come up with a better title for this, eventually. I promise.