"It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine." -REM
Her fingers were numb from the cold, so frozen that even with her gloves off, she couldn't feel the grooves in the thick logs that formed the side of the cabin. Her feet crunched over the frost bitten ground as she walked away from the group, studying their salvation, trying to prove to herself it wasn't a mirage. Emily slipped her glove back on, and continued toward the back of the cabin, her mouth dropping open as she got to the backyard.
It was still early, and the sun was shining brightly, exposing the downward slope of the mountainside, and the range of Rocky Mountains beyond it. This had to be a dream. Swallowing, and closing her mouth, her warm breath sending a light fog up into the sky, Emily turned back to the actual cabin. There was a large porch made of the same dark stained logs that created the cabin itself. A couple wooden chairs looked out at the view, and a small iron structure held fire wood. She could see more packed beneath the house.
Someone must have come here in the summer, and prepared for the winter. Someone planned on coming back here for a quiet peaceful winter. That someone was likely dead, along with the rest of humanity.
They'd all lost weight in the last few months, too much on most of them. They lived with greasy, dirty hair that got washed only with the rain, and clothes that smelled like a city subway. Their skin hadn't seen make-up, moisturizes or astringent in months, and their teeth didn't get brushed regularly anymore. Bags under their eyes, unhealthy pallor, and chapped lips completed the picture of the pathetic group they'd become.
But, they were alive.
She heard a cheer from the front of the house. Will must have gotten the lock open, and soon they'd be able to rest. To be warm.
###
The end of the world didn't come from nuclear war, biological weapons, chemical weapons or any of the other devices mankind created to destroy itself. Nor did it come from mass poverty and starvation, declining birth rates, wide-spread disease, or street violence. It didn't come the Earth, it wasn't homegrown.
It came from the sky.
The team had trudged home after another long case, showered and passed out until they got hungry, and eventually turned on the news like most other Americans. An official from NASA had been on, explaining the possible effects of an expected meteor shower. This wasn't an ordinary meteor shower, the meteors were bigger than the usual. Something…something hadn't been right in the man's behavior, all five profilers noticed it.
Morgan called Prentiss first, "Tell me this guy doesn't look like he's lying."
They brought it up in the next morning's briefing to head nods from the others. Rossi dug for information, Reid made some estimations, and they determined that the NASA had been lying like Nixon. The meteors wouldn't simply cause some ground disturbances, or some nasty waves. The fucking things would cause massive craters, and huge tidal waves that would wipe out the coasts, depending on where they landed.
Three days they had before the night of the meteor shower, so they planned. Generous go-bags, non-perishable foods, camping gear, first-aid and emergency supplies, extra gas in red plastic jugs, just in case. They called families to warn them. JJ's parents decided she was crazy, Reid's mother couldn't leave the institution if she wanted too, Hotch's brother brushed him off, Prentiss's mother was god-only-knew where, Garcia had Kevin alert his family (who were nerdy enough to listen, and happily vacated and headed for the nearest big mountain), and Morgan begged and cajoled his mama and sisters. We'll try baby, I swear, but I don't even know where mountains are around here.
They waited for the officials, the politicians, the talking-heads to release the information, to warn people. Truth was, they barely believed it themselves. Which is why they didn't leave until the first news of landfall hit. Tokyo, Japan. Hundreds dead, thousands wounded. Bejing, China. Los Angeles, California.
They piled into SUVs, nine adults, two small children, and two dogs and hauled ass together as far away from the East Coast as they could get. Reid directed them toward Spruce Knob, in West Virginia, a 4800 foot tall peak, where maybe they'd be safe. They barely made it to the summit before the waves came. Sharing pairs of binoculars, and holding each others gloved, shaking hands, they'd watched as massive walls of blue ocean water crashed into the side of the mountain beneath them, and rushed passed.
September 5, 2011.
That's when they watched waves swallow millions of sleeping people, who'd had no warning, no chance to make it to safety. They cried for family too stubborn to listen, and for family who they could only hope had gotten to high enough ground. Reid estimated the waves at 3200 feet, but taller closer to the coast.
The meteor shower lasted for two days. None big enough to be extinction level, to their great relief. But, they watched waves hit over and over again beneath them, at first coming from the ocean, and then baby currents from meteors that landed after the first massive waves. They huddled together around campfires, tried to put on smiles for Jack and Henry, and wondered what the hell happened next.
It took a month of waiting and hoping, and praying for some of them, before they'd risk getting back on battered roads. One SUV crashed on the way down, fortunately the one without kids. There were no significant injuries anyway. Kevin got a bump and a cut when his head bounced against the window, Morgan and Prentiss both got friction burns from the airbags, nasty bruises from the seat belts and assorted minor cuts and bruises. Garcia was more emotionally banged up, having buried herself in Kevin's arms. Gear and people were transferred to other SUVs, and their caravan got a little shorter.
They didn't head back east. They couldn't find a passable way, and they didn't quite trust that the nightmare was over anyway. They tried to get to Chicago, but it had become part of Lake Michigan. They spent another month driving, navigating around craters, and lingering flooding. The country was gone. No, the people were gone.
Bodies littered streets, once bloated but now dried and decaying, pulled from their homes while they slept. They earned bruises and scratches, even the occasional deep cut from trying to investigate rubble. The team salvaged what they could from stores, but there wasn't much that they could get too. Eventually they gave up all together, and simply headed west.
When the torrential rains started they mutually decided to haul ass for Colorado, and let Reid direct them to the highest mountains. In the month of waiting and the month of driving they never encountered another survivor. Not a single breathing person, not even a damned cat or dog. They were tired, sore, dirty, and smelled like homeless people when they finally started another SUV climb up a mountain. A mountain Reid assured them was over 10,000 feet tall.
Safe enough.
It was on this mountain that they got a surprise. The SUVs died. First one, then the other. Lack of oil, lack of fuel, radiator fluid, who the hell knew, but they crapped out almost simultaneously.
So, they walked.
Ten adults, taking turns carrying the two kids, and two dogs keeping pace. Mudgie kept close to Rossi, and Clooney did likewise with Morgan. They had also packed themselves with as much of their supplies as they could carry, and packed some on the poor animals as well. It was a damn cold trek. Even colder camping.
###
"Well, it looks like three bedrooms, and a loft with extra beds. So, couples and people with kids get the bedrooms, the rest of us can bunk upstairs," Morgan announced, coming off the stairs that led to the aforementioned loft.
"We have a kitchen!" Garcia announced gleefully. "With a stove and a refrigerator, and-"
"Fridge runs on power, we've only got what runs on propane." Will nodded to the stove.
"Way to rain on my parade."
"That means no showers either," JJ grumbled.
"Uh, what about toilet facilities?" Emily asked, hopefully.
"Also run on power," Reid answered.
"It's December. Are you telling me I'm going to running out in below freezing weather and exposing my bare ass the elements?"
Reid was unbothered. "Yes, actually."
"There's an outhouse out back. That'll work until the weather gets warm, and we can solve that problem then," Rossi said, two shotguns in his hands.
"Better than nothing," she mumbled.
"Who's helping me find diner?" He held out a gun.
"Did those come from here?" Hotch asked.
"Yeah, these are buck shot, we can get bigger game than with my bird shot."
Hotch surveyed the group and sighed. "Alright, Reid, Kevin, Will and I will take care of the fireplace, inventory our supplies and see what we can find here. Rossi, and Morgan can take the dogs and hunt, and you three want to investigate any food left in the kitchen?"
"Uh that kitchen is pretty small, Hotch. How about I go with the guys?" Prentiss nodded to two men discussing shotguns.
He shrugged. "Whatever you want."
Morgan looked at her with an almost teasing grin. "You aren't going to cry when we kill something, are you?"
She flipped him off, and followed a chuckling Rossi out the door.
###
Garcia surveyed the kitchen with her hands on her hips. "So...I think maybe we should investigate the fridge first."
JJ looked from the tech to the fridge and back, nose wrinkled in distaste. "How about you do that, and I investigate something else?"
"I'm not doing all the yucky stuff...how about this, one of us handles the fridge, the other one cleans the oven?"
"That sounds fair."
Garcia nodded, pigtails bobbing. Her hair was now blond to her ears, where it abruptly returned to the vibrant red she'd dyed it. And, it was longer than it had ever been. So was everyone else's, though they did try to cut each others hair occasionally. Or rather, the ladies handled haircuts, or in Morgan's case, a shave. Though, he'd been letting his hair grow to keep his head warm. Needless to say none of them were even in the vicinity of stylish.
"So, who's doing what?" JJ asked, not excited for either task.
"Oh, I don't care. I'm closer to the oven, you're closer to the fridge, how about we split it that way?"
JJ nodded, and very cautiously approached the refrigerator, Garcia watching her with bated breath. Her hand tightened around the handle, and after swallowing her trepidation, she yanked it open quickly. Then her head was inside, and she was studying the darkened shelves and bins.
"It's empty. They cleaned it before they left," she stated, facing Garcia again.
"Oh well, that's good."
JJ smirked. "Your turn."
Garcia shot her an unfriendly look, before opening hers with less trepidation than she'd had a moment ago. She examined the gray interior and noted the walls to be clean enough, and the racks to be in similar shape. "Alright, let's see if this baby works."
She flipped the switch and it did all of nothing. Not even a sputter. Not even a scent of gas.
"Crap!" Garcia groaned angrily. "I want my life back!"
JJ let her vent until she saw tears, and then wrapped her arms around her friend. "It's not an option, Pen. You have to stop thinking like it is."
Garcia pulled away sniffling. "Are we actually going to live up here? Can we even survive? And for how long?"
"Yes we are, and we can, and I don't know. I plan on seeing my son grow up though." Henry was why she kept going, her little boy that she loved to bits.
"You're right, I'm sorry. I just...I get frustrated." Then she smiled. "I want to see my godson grow up too."
"Yeah well, unless you and Kevin reproduce, Henry's never going to have a girlfriend. And, neither is Jack." JJ looked glum at the idea.
"Oh hey, hey don't put all that pressure on me, there's another woman of childbearing age here."
"Emily? With who?" Clearly, JJ hadn't begun to consider the idea.
"Well, I don't know, but there's four single, straight men here, one of them is going to get horny sooner or later." As soon as it came out of her mouth, she took on the same shocked look as JJ, eyes wide, mouth open.
JJ suddenly started giggling, causing Garcia to erupt with her.
###
How Hotch got the job of going up on the roof, he wasn't quite sure, but it was clear Reid wasn't liking his job any better. He could hear the young man's voice echo as he reprimanded Kevin for moving. Being the lightest, Reid was designated to stand on someone's back and use a broom to sweep out the chimney. Poor Kevin got picked as his mule, and Hotch was up top with another broom to get anything Reid couldn't. Will was standing in the snow below, spotting Hotch while he clung to the brick chimney for dear life.
Getting the place warm that was task number one. He hadn't expected it to be as arduous a task as it was turning out to be. He looked behind him to see JJ talking to Will, who glanced up at him, pointed to JJ and then the house. Apparently, JJ and Garcia needed help with something. Hotch nodded, and watched him walk inside. He might have been jealous, if it wasn't just as cold inside.
"Hey Hotch, I can't reach this clump of something, can you push it through?" Reid's voice echoed up at him.
"Move first or whatever it is, is going to land on your head," Hotch called back at him.
A few seconds later, Reid shouted, "Clear!" Old habits, obviously.
Hotch shoved his broom into the chimney, stopping when it hit Reid's apparent obstruction. He yanked the broom back, and then drove it hard into the obstruction. It took about three big strokes before he felt it give, and heard the crunch of it landing. He decided while the coast was clear, to sweep around the top, and clean out what Reid wouldn't be able to reach. Aside from the obstruction, it seemed pretty clean.
"Oh, that's disgusting," Kevin's voice carried up from below.
"It's just a dead cat," Reid told him. "Or maybe a small dog...no, definitely cat. That's not a dog's jaw."
"Great, can we get rid of it? I don't want Penelope to see it."
"She's seen worse," Reid reminded him.
"I know that, but she doesn't like dead or hurt furry creatures," Kevin insisted.
"Well technically, it's not furry anymore. It's just dried up bones, so..."
Hotch rolled his eyes, and leaned over the chimney opening. "Just get rid of it, please!"
What a crew.
###
The springer spaniel and the Swiss mountain dog ran ahead excitedly, nipping at each other, and yipping playfully. The guys each had a gun slung of a shoulder, and Prentiss was basically just tagging along. Though she'd insisted she had more experience hunting than Morgan did; her grandfather had taken her a few times. The only thing he'd ever hunted was fish, and those were not happy memories. But Morgan being Morgan, couldn't let a woman hunt in his stead.
Up until the SUVs died they'd been eating non-perishables they lifted from abandoned stores. They'd actually suffered through a meal of peanut butter, canned peaches, and pickles, passing jars and cans around in a circle like old-time gold miners. They'd all gotten over any germ phobias and personal space boundaries pretty early on, since just about everything was shared now.
After the SUVs died, Rossi took it upon himself to be the groups hunter-extraordinaire. It had all been small game, since his gun was just bird shot, and the biggest thing he'd brought back was a large rabbit or hare, or whatever they were in the mountains. Marmots, martins and squirrels were other creatures they'd devoured with ravenous hunger. There's nothing quite like passing a stick with hunk of roasted marmot a circle so they could all pick off chunks.
It did not taste like chicken.
Their first night of camping Morgan had encountered a rabbit while on a bathroom break. He'd brought his glock up to take a shot, and bring home food, but the little creature had gotten up on it's hind legs, and sort of cocked its head at him. It seemed so damn harmless, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Three days later, he'd been ready to shoot the first creature that came near him. They were that hungry.
Suddenly, both dogs up ahead froze, and Rossi was already getting in a covered position, focusing where the dogs were looking. Morgan had barely found their target when a shot rang out, and the animal dropped dead. Mudgie leading the way, the two dogs headed over to examine the kill.
"Oh god," Prentiss cringed turning away when they got close.
He looked at her. "Tell me you aren't going to be a girl about this, Prentiss."
She glared.
"You said you wouldn't cry when we shot something," he reminded.
"Do I look like I'm crying?" She snapped.
"Easy kids," Rossi admonished them. "Good boys," he told the dogs, petting both of them.
Morgan continued to watch Prentiss's obviously upset reaction.
She finally dropped her hand from her mouth with a sigh. "I just didn't expect to be hunting dog. I thought it would be deer."
"It's not a dog, it's a coyote."
"It's in the dog family, and looks doggie enough that it's a dog."
He crossed his arms, "So you'd rather we kill Bambi than Fido?"
"As long as it was adult Bambi."
Morgan rolled his eyes. "Whatever, at this point, food is food."
"He's right, it doesn't matter what we eat now. We just need to eat." Rossi studied her.
"I know, I'll get used to it, I just miss meat being in plastic packages at the supermarket."
Morgan snorted. "Don't we all."
###
"Our huntress has returned," Garcia greeted Emily when she entered the kitchen. "What are we having for dinner?"
Her expression wasn't a happy one. "Coyote."
Garcia's mouth opened, that was not what she was expecting. "Well, alright. As long as it's something."
Emily nodded, looking around. "Is it warm in here?"
"I don't know about warm," JJ said, "but warmer than outside."
"The guys got the fireplace up and running, and Will and Kevin fixed the oven." Garcia was maybe a little over-excited at the idea of a functioning oven.
"Kevin? I had no idea he was good with his hands."
The former computer tech chuckled. "Oh honey, you have no idea just how good."
Emily immediately cringed, and JJ laughed. "Thinking before I speak next time," the profiler said.
"So, where is my coyote?" Garcia asked, hands on her hips.
"Rossi and Morgan are skinning it and chopping it up. They're going to give the legs to the dogs."
"What about the head?"
Emily stared at her. "I didn't ask."
"Didn't have fun hunting?" JJ asked.
"No. I didn't expect to be killing doggie."
Garcia pulled a large roasting pan out. "You think it will fit in here?"
Emily opened her mouth. "Honestly, I have no idea. I never did much roasting."
Garcia nodded, and set the pan on top of the stove. Then she opened a cabinet and began pulling out spices. "We scored the jackpot with these people. They left us spices, canned food, and even some jarred preserves."
"Real food," Emily said wistfully.
JJ smiled. "We got very lucky."
Garcia moved to the aforementioned canned food, and then froze, unable to come to a decision. She turned back to her friends. "So ladies, 1 million dollar question, what goes better with coyote, peas or green beans?"
###
A few hours later, Reid was crouched by the fire trying to warm up after his impromptu bath in the snow outside. With no running water, he didn't have many other options to get the soot off of himself, save rolling around in the snow like a child. The fireplace was burning hot, with plenty of wood already chopped for them to use, and it eased the painful tension in his bones. Jack and Henry were next to him, playing with a few toys, and enjoying not having to be swaddled in blankets to avoid freezing to death.
They'd found some tools (ax, saw, shovels, screwdrivers, hammer, etc) and fishing gear in the shed behind the house. Of course, Reid didn't really know what to do with most of them except on a purely academic level, but he had a feeling he'd be learning soon. Rossi made a comment about making bows and arrows for after the bullets run out. He'd asked what they were going to use for arrowheads, and the older man had just shrugged and said they'd figure it out.
They'd also, upon Garcia's request, moved the refrigerator outside. She said it would be useless inside, but outside, it would be cold enough to not need electricity. He and Kevin had made sure all the beds had sheets and enough warm blankets, and Hotch and Will had headed down what appeared to be the driveway to the cabin to see where it led. The rest of them had also found what looked like someone's office that held two large bookcases. He'd already read many of the titles, but Morgan's mouth had widened in a smile at the sight of one book, which he took with himself. This before he and Rossi decided to head out to investigate the surrounding area, see if they could find where the person had fished.
Suddenly the door slammed open and a half-frozen Hotch trudged inside, Will was right behind him, and to Reid's surprise Rossi and Morgan followed them in, all breathing heavily and tense from the cold. Reid jumped up to help, Kevin right behind him, taking their friends' coats and shoving the four men in front of the fireplace. Both fathers immediately grabbed up their sons, who were more than happy for it.
"Hot drinks," JJ called, drawing their attention. She had a large pot, and Prentiss was behind her with her hands full of mugs.
"Where did you get the water?" Rossi asked.
"Snow," Emily answered.
"Snow tea, yummy." Morgan still went to the table and accepted a cup gratefully.
Emily motioned Reid and Kevin to follow her as JJ poured tea for the guys. They were sent back to the dining area with plates, silverware, napkins, and more cups, which they set out for their large group. A few more trips, and the table also held a large bowl of green beans, a plate of some sort of cornbread things, a gravy boat, a bowl of red jelly, and glasses for nine adults with about an inch of wine each.
Apparently, in edition to storing food, the cabin's former owner kept a small stock of vino. Only five bottles, which wouldn't go far among nine adults, but it was a special little something.
"Look-out coming through!" Garica called. Reid jumped out of the way as the tech bustled through, hands full of a platter of a large roast. She set it on the table, and handed Hotch the carving tools. "For our fearless leader."
"That is some roast, babygirl," Morgan commented. He was beside Emily, the book he'd picked up in her hands, and a smile very similar to his on her face.
Garcia offered him a smile. "It's not much of a feast, but better than we've had in a month. There's green beans, Johnnycakes, gravy and uh, instead of cranberry sauce, we opened a jar of what we've guessed is raspberry jam, and of course, roast beast."
"It looks delicious, ladies," Ross declared.
"Good, cause it's all you're getting," Garcia winked at him, causing the group to chuckle.
They'd had to get creative to find enough chairs (and one bench) to sit on, and kids were still on laps. There was no elbow room, shoulders were touching, feet were getting tangled beneath the tabled, and they were just generally squished, but few even noticed, and those who did just didn't seem to care. Reid included.
He missed his mother. It had been months since he'd written a letter, less because she wasn't alive to get it, and more because of a lack of access to paper. JJ had already mourned her parents, as Hotch did his brother and in-laws. Prentiss had been stoic and mute regarding her mother, while Kevin had sobbed like a baby in Garcia's arms. But, he still held out hope of seeing his family again. Morgan played it tough, like Emily, but mentioned more than once going to look for his mother and sisters when it was safer, when they were settled.
For now, this was their family, and the cabin was their new home. It was cramped-ridiculously so for nine adults-but it was better than camping in tents and sleeping in the SUVs. It was safe and warm, and all eleven of them were still together, still surviving. Thinner and paler, more tired, and weather-worn, but still alive.
Rossi raised his glass of wine. "To surviving the end of the world."
Everyone else followed suit, but it was Emily's voice that added on to the toast. "To the ones who didn't."
Murmurers of agreement and clinking glasses made for a celebratory feeling in the air. And, he supposed they were celebrating. They were alive. They were together. At the end of the world, that's all that really matters.
So, a few months ago I was sick, and Deep Impact was gone. That's how this came about. And, if you couldn't figure it out, that was a Vonnegut book that Morgan and Prentiss were smiling about. Other than that, I don't have much else to say. Thanks for reading, and thank you to anyone who decides to review.