Apocalypse

By differenttruck

Author's Notes: This is a BIG AU fic, which means that if you're not really a fan of this, do not bother to read. Basically what I've done is kept all the old characters in their positions they were in Season One, but moved them through the storylines of Season Two and Three. This does deal with a sense of the "end of the world" kind of topic and yes, there will be more to come. This is not the only chapter.

Danny.

Shattered glass cracks beneath you, sharp pain runs through your veins; blood covers your eyes in a veil of its own as you hear faint screams in the distant. You smell the familiar smell of death and your stomach turns. Something was not right. There's something large on your back, pressing you closer and closer to the ground as you inhale sharply, trying to figure out where the hell you are.

More cries, more pleas and you're not sure how much you can take it.

You go to move what you believe is a large piece of wood from your body but discovers that your body has been broken into various places and it makes you wince in pain as you struggle underneath the grip of the wood. You've broken at least a couple fingers, your right arm and a couple ribs. Your body is screaming for you to stay put, maybe someone will help, but you're not sure how much of the crying and pleas you can take before you break.

Teeth, digging into your lower lip, you use all the strength you can manage and by using your left elbow, you cope with lifting your body just enough to feel some of the heavy wood slide a little further off your body. Tears sting your eyes, the pain is unbearable, but you continue what you've started.

Stella.

You dial Mac's cell number again and place it close to your ear as you stumble across the cracked road. Various bodies are scattered along the roads and sidewalks, limbs hanging from trees and you cover your mouth with your free hand to keep the bile down. You've seen enough dead bodies in your life but this is way too much.

You hear the constant sound of the rings in your ear and for the fifth time, or sixth, you've lost count, you leave another message in Mac's voicemail. Mac, its Stella. Listen, where the hell are you? I've been trying to reach you for god knows how long and I just…I just need to find someone I know. So please, call me back as soon as you get this.

Various cuts cover your flesh; cover your body in a story you have yet to discover. The ground moans, the sky falls and you can not imagine a time like this when you have felt so alone and filled with despair. The sun is not the sun you've seen all your life. The sun that bleeds in the sky is covered by dark, red clouds, hiding it's presence from the desperate world beneath it.

You're one of the lucky ones (that's what they call you, fifty some years from now as they read their books on planets such as Mars), one of the lucky few who've managed to come out of the attack with your body in minor cuts. You're healthy and coherent, able to take it what they're receiving but as you stumble across the broken debris and dust covered corpses, you can not help but whisper to yourself that you're not the lucky one, in fact, you're the only living soul who has not found their safe place to the heavens.

Flack.

It feels like déjà vu all over again. Something hard is probing into your intestines, warm blood seeps down the side of your face, and you wonder how long it's been since you have rested in this trap. The accident, the whole flash of light, it all happened so quickly that it left you no time to react, none what so ever to save what ever life you could possible have.

The unexpected, the unexplained…all happened and there was nothing you could do about it. You remember the stories that were told when you were a child, remember all the tales of the day in which earth would surrender itself to the dark world beyond. The tales found you every night when you were younger, taunting you with the unexplained and just after your mother had kissed you goodnight and closed your door for the night, and you would quickly hide under your covers with your flashlight, the only safety you could find.

But that was when they were silly old tales, something that was forgotten the morning after but not today. No, today it was reality and as you coughed up the blood in your throat, you knew that maybe the tale that had been haunting you for so many years was trying to prepare you better for this day. Maybe if you had listened to those stories, took in the precautions that were needed, perhaps someone else would be buried beneath the rubble other than you.

The metal roars above you and you curse silently under your breath. You know you're losing too much blood, you can feel your body going numb; can feel the shortness in breath, all the many signs to indicate that your internal clock was almost up. You knew the Angel of Death was standing some many feet away, ready to take you when you were done but no, you were not ready. You wanted to live.

You struggled to escape, tried to push the pieces of the broken ceiling off your body but instead were greeted with the metal at your side ripping through your intestines even more.

You felt the hot tears slide down your cheeks as you tried to push again but the metal greeted you once more.

The Angel of Death stepped further into the room.