A little more for you guys before the day is over. As a rule of thumb, larger stories tend to draw in people far more quickly than smaller ones. I don't know how big this thing is going to get, but considering where I'm at this moment, I project it may get as big as Galaxy at War: N7.

I realize what a tall order that may sound, but I've already got 35k in words done and I'm not even close to being done with the first act.

As always, Enjoy! And review, review, review!

*UPDATE* I edited the neat lines in here that break up the scenes in this chapter, for your reading convenience :P

A low pitched ringing was the first sound her heard. It was droning and unceasing in its unpleasant noisemaking.

"Stiles?"

He thought he heard Scott's voice, but that didn't make sense. He couldn't see anything. The world around him was pitch black

"Stiles?"

This time the voice was louder. He still couldn't tell where it was coming from, but he decided it was better to find out to lay here in the dark. He moved to open his eyes.

Pitch black outside.

He closed them again. Also pitch black. Well fantastic. Now he could be the funny, sarcastic blind gay teenager. Stiles briefly wondered how many scholarships he could get with that many titles before he heard a louder call:

"Stiles!"

That call was clearly Derek, and he sounded worried. Stiles went to speak, but only a raspy cough came out. Struggling, he tried again. This time it was a sputter. He tried to move his arms and legs. Still nothing. He paused and counted to ten before finally using all of his breath to try and scream.

"I'm here!"

It was to a scream as a kitten's meow is to a roar. Still, when he heard a desperate scratching above him, he presumed Derek had heard him.

After what seemed like eternity, streams of light flooded into wherever Stiles was, temporarily blinding him. Then he felt Derek's strong arms pull him out of wherever he had been trapped. His eyes were still blinded by the flash of sunlight they had been exposed too, which had made Stiles bittersweet. On one hand, that had really freaking hurt and he still couldn't see anything around him. On the other hand he wasn't blind. Small miracles, eh?

"Stiles, baby are you okay?" A warm, calloused hand cupped his face. He loved it when Overprotective Derek came out.

He opened his eyes and slowing began adjusting to the sights around him. The first thing he saw was Derek's concerned face, which was a plus. Then everything else started to come into view. The sky was tinged a bluish green. The air was hot and stale, almost like they were in a desert. But that was impossible. There were no Deserts in that part of California. He began to glance around him.

Scott was crouched near him, offering him sympathetic eyes; Lydia was holding his wrist (And to think, a year ago that would have drove him wild); Jackson and Allison were nearby, possibly standing watch? Why did they look so defensive? Boyd and Danny were also nearby, but he could hear rummaging sounds, like metal scraping against metal and wood being thrown about. Finally Isaac and Erica were nowhere in sight. Of course all of these questions paled in comparison to what he was seeing when he looked around.

It was as if they were in the middle of a horror movie set: blackened frames of houses stood along a street; a dusty hills rose all around them, and the few trees in view were dead and cracked. A small ruined playground stood nearby, it's equipment showing signs of rust and age. Some large rocket stood to his left, maybe it was a sign? He couldn't tell. His world was spinning. He felt as though he were falling.

"Derek.." he rasped before the world swirled to black again.

"Stiles! Stay with me!" Derek was shaking the teen in his arms, hoping to keep him awake long enough for them to find help. Scott stood up and ran over to Allison, who nodded at his flailing and ran over to Derek to help him with Stiles. Typically Derek would just lift the small guy up on his own, but given his frail state he thought that was not the best idea. Boyd and Danny got to jury rigging a stretcher out of some wood and corrugated tin they found in one of the burned out houses.

While he and Scott moved Stiles onto the makeshift stretcher, Derek tried to make sense of everything that had happened in the last few hours. He remembered being in the Diner, looking down at the menu when Stiles had gotten up and had started walking towards the Radio. He could hear something wrong with Stiles' heartbeat then, and boy smelled as though he were beginning to sweat profusely. He had called out to Stiles, expecting him to respond. The fact that he didn't sent alarm bells through Derek's head, and only when Stiles touched the Radio did his alpha instincts fully kick in. He could hear the knob turning, and with each click the room became exponentially warmer. He also picked up on some kind of high pitched whine, not unlike that of a siren. He had got up and moved towards Stiles, and he only moved faster when the teen began to convulse, as if he were in tremendous pain. He reached Stiles the same time as the whole room went white.

The next thing he remembered was waking up, sprawled out on the pavement in whatever town they were in. His first instinct was that hunters had got them, but that was stupid. Then he considered his unseen waitress. Had she dragged them out of the restaurant drugged, stolen their goods and RV, and left them in some godforsaken desert? No that didn't make any sense. Werewolves were immune to most sedatives, and even those that did have an impact on them would have worn off far quicker on him and his betas than they would have on the humans in their pack. There was no desert like this in all of Northern California, and the closest one would have been in Nevada. That was at least a three hour drive. There was only one herbal cocktail that could keep an alpha in his prime out for more than three hours, and it was more than enough Wolfsbane to instantly kill him. He reached for his pocket, and at that a cold feeling rose through his chest. His wallet was still there. He grabbed it and flipped it open: His Driver's License was still there. More disturbingly, his 9 sequential $100 bills were still there.

So no one had rooted around his pockets. Hunter or otherwise, no sane (or insane) person would drug a pissed off alpha, leave him in the middle of the desert, and not rob him blind. Now he was beginning to think there was a lot more to this than he originally thought. His own train of thought was derailed when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye:

Jackson was on the ground near him, beginning to stir. As he got up off of the pavement, Derek began to take inventory of where he was: It was some kind of ruined town, with at least five different two story buildings that had been reduced to mere shells. The surrounding landscape was definitely desert like, but it was the American southwest he was expecting: Those deserts had been full of shrubs and red rocks. The ground had a definite mix of sand and hard clay texture to it. Here there were very few, if any bushes. The sky was a greenish-blue, and the ground was definitely dried dirt, with layers of dust overtop of it. His senses were telling him that this was nothing like the Southwest he had traveled following the death of his family, but his mind was telling him in counter that they couldn't be anywhere else. Jackson opened his eyes and immediately began to flail.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" he scrambled to get to his feet, eyes filled with alarm. He was as out of touch as Derek was. After a moment of losing his calm, he noticed Derek scowling at him and instantly found his composure. Derek had to wonder if at any point in time he had wondered if giving Jackson the Bite was a good idea. He imagined it wasn't, but there was no sense in looking back on that now.

"Jackson. I need you to start looking for the others. They may have gotten up and wandered around, or they may still be out cold."

Jackson looked at him with some apprehension before firing back rather snidely:

"Where the hell are we Derek?"

"I don't know yet." Derek gave him a steely look. "But I'm going to find out."

And with that he began walking towards the ruined houses.

Erica awoke covered, covered in dust. She sat up too quickly and felt the blood rush through her head. She was alone in the remains of a house. It was daylight outside, and the ground was dry and dead. She stumbled out of a large hole in the front of the house onto a side street. The first thing she noticed as Derek walking towards her, radiating authority.

"Erica, are you all right?" Derek asked in a brusque tone, as if they hadn't been hit by a flash of light and weren't standing in the middle of the desert.

"I'm fine." She erred on the side of caution and stayed away from irritating Derek at the moment.

"Good. Jackson has started looking for the others and-"

He was cut off by sounds of coughing and wood being pushed out of the way. Danny pushed a rotting door off of the house opposite to theirs.

"Hey." He said rather weakly. "Did we decide to go to Burning Man instead?"

Erica tried to laugh but it came out a cough. She truly was coated in dust.

Derek turned to him and helped him out of the house. As he was he instinctively turned right and heard muffled sounds coming from the next building.

"Stiles?" He quickly jumped away from Danny and into the house. He was greeted with no Stiles, but instead the sight of Lydia and Allison. The two of them had just woken up and were getting to their feet.

Allison was the first to notice him and she quickly launched into a verbal assault of questions.

"Derek, where are we? What happened to the Diner? Where is Scott?!"

"Allison, I don't know yet. Erica, Danny and Jackson are just outside."

Allison, realizing the gravity of the situation, nodded and proceeded to pull on her big girl boots. She quickly moved outside.

Lydia, now fully awake and looking terrified turned to Derek.

"Yo-You said J-J-Jack-son is outside?" Lydia mumbled, as though completely lost in the events happening around them.

"Yes. Come here Lydia." Awkwardly he put his arm around her shoulder and led her outside. He knew that he may not be the most affectionate person, but his touch seemed to calm Lydia down.

By the time they had got outside Jackson had returned, with a scuffed up Boyd in tow.

"Boyd, are you all right?"

"Yeah. I just woke up underneath a frigging shelving unit."

Danny looked sympathetic, but before he could say anything he was interrupted by a shout behind him.

"DUDE!" Scott was yelling at someone. Derek hoped it was Stiles.

"Do you realize that you weigh a frigging ton?!" Scott said as he marched through the house adjacent to Erica's.

Isaac walked out behind him, somewhat flushed.

"You trying to steal my boy McCall?" Danny flung at him, not a hint of jealousy in his voice.

Scott snorted "You can have him Danny, he weighs like a thousand pounds."

Isaac moved his way over to Danny and embraced him in a tight hug.

"It's okay buddy, shhhhh, we'll be okay." Danny cradled the smaller teen in his arms. He knew Isaac often woke up in the middle of the night, clawing at the air around him. At first Danny attributed it to night terrors. But after Danny had learned what Isaac's father had put him through he held onto Isaac tightly every night.

Derek had barely even noticed the exchange, as his worst fear was coming to fruition. With a bark he ordered the rest of the pack to fan out and start looking for Stiles.

After working ceaselessly for more than an hour, the whole group was starting to get exhausted. The air was hot and reeked of death. Derek's wolf senses were telling him it was a dog, of all animals, but his mind was telling him that Stiles was dying and that he was going to lose him. Just like he had lost everyone else in his family. Derek watched the search parties move about: Jackson and Allison were searching past the small paved lot towards a large building looming in the far side of the town. Danny and Boyd were digging through the houses. He, Scott and Lydia were searching around the paved lot with the rocket sign. Isaac and Erica noticed a sign that said Megaton pointing towards the south, and asked if Derek would let them go investigate. Derek had never heard of a town called Megaton in his years of traveling through Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico and the Baja. Still, it was the best they could go on at the moment.

The three of them were digging through the area, scavenging through the dumpsters, investigating the ruined house to the left of the lot. All the while the group was calling Stiles' name and searching for him.

Derek was pawing through the ground in the heard Stiles' voice.

"I'm here."

It was incredibly faint, but he was sure it was Stiles.

"Stiles?!" he cried out.

He dashed out of the House and towards the center of the town. There he stopped in his tracks, closed his eyes, and zeroed in on all of the sounds around him.

There was the wind, there were the various teams, searching and digging. There was radio static in one direction. He heard a faint explosion in the distance. Then he heard it. The soft beating of a heart.

It was in Danny's house.

He dashed over to the house and ripped through the front door. He glanced around at all of the junk and debris piled up. A wardrobe lay overtop of where Stiles' heartbeat was coming from. He grabbed it and tossed it to the side. Underneath it was a gigantic mound of wood and other assorted building materials. Claws unfurled, Derek began digging through the pile, throwing pieces left and right. He finally uncovered a cellar door. Immediately he grabbed it with both hands and ripped it open.

The basement was dark, but small. Stiles lay at the entrance, his body trapped under several fallen beams at the foot of the stairwell. Derek ran down the stairs and lifted the beams off of Stiles. His eyes were open but glassy, and his heartbeat was so faint. He was a sickly shade of white, and it appeared as though he had retched all over himself.

'What have I done to him?' Derek thought desperately as he pulled Stiles out of the basement and up into the street.

The others had stopped what they were doing. Lydia immediately came over and began checking Stiles' vitals.

"Boyd! Danny! Get me something we can carry him on, he's hurt bad!"

"You've got it Derek!" Boyd shouted back, already fixing pieces of wood and steel together with some tubing they found in Erica's house.

Allison and Jackson began racing back towards them. Allison looked flushed, but Jackson appeared fine.

"We were investigating the ruins on the other side of the town. There's a school there, and it looks to be occupied."

"Great we need to get him-"

"No, Derek listen!" Allison was trying to talk in between breaths. "The school, the people there are wrong. Something is wrong with this place. Derek, they shot at us."

Derek was struck dumb. He didn't show it, but he could not wrap his mind around what had just happened. Quickly he regrouped his thoughts and began to organize a game plan.

"All right, Allison, Jackson you two keep an eye on the north. If you see those guys coming, give us the heads up. I don't know what backasswards part of Nevada we are in, but we need to get Stiles to a hospital and we need to do it fast."

Danny and Boyd brought the stretcher over, and Scott helped Derek lift Stiles onto it.

As if by providence, Erica and Isaac came racing down the southern slope to deliver good news.

"We found Megaton. It's… not what you would expect."

Derek scoffed "What? Did they shoot at you too?!"

Erica looked confused, but Isaac carried on in his normal voice "No, but there are a couple things we need to show you."

"All right let's go!" Derek and Scott picked up the stretcher that bore Stiles; Lydia followed along with him, holding his hand and whispering reassurances to him. Derek felt a pang of jealousy ring through him, but he crushed it and continued moving onwards; Erica and Isaac were the vanguards of the caravan, while Danny walked behind them and in front of the stretcher. Allison, Jackson and Boyd brought up the rear, keeping an eye out for any sign of danger.

Despite the confusion and utter bizarreness of the last few hours, the group had shed its weaknesses and really pulled together. Derek kept that in mind for when they got back to Beacon Hills, as he would be implementing new ways of training the pack to be stronger and more cooperative.

They continued walking in near silence for fifteen minutes. Stiles was very quiet on the stretcher, and Derek was absolutely afraid that they wouldn't get to this town in time. They had traveled through a hilly stretch of land, dotted with rocks and the occasional dead shrub. The sun was past noon in the sky, and the winds beat around the edges of the hills viciously.

Isaac was broke the silence with his navigating.

"We are almost there Derek, we just need to cross up over this hill."

Trudging up the steep hill was not a problem for the groups werewolves, who did it with ease. Allison was used to strenuous hill climbs and was unfazed by the hike. Danny, despite his buff condition, was starting to wear down. He was at least holding his ground, unlike Lydia, who was huffing and puffing and silently cursing her footwear as she ascended the hill.

As they reached the top, a large metal structure rose in the distance. Derek instinctively thought it was another hill, but a closer look showed that it reflected sunlight in places. The hill leveled out into relatively flat terrain leading up to the entrance of the steel mountain before them. The rest of the group was completely confused. This was their destination? What on earth were they looking at? This wasn't a town at all.

Jackson was the first to reply.

"Isaac, I don't know what you've been smoking, but that is clearly not a town. It looks like a typhoid ridden scrapheap."

"Just trust me on this jackass." Isaac shot back.

The front of the "town" was a large triangular juncture of metal, with a rusted airplane engine sitting above it. To the right of this juncture was a sight that stopped the entire group in their tracks.

"Welcome to Megaton. The bomb is perfectly safe."