Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a little bit more than a normal day when it started. Celebration of new begnings, finally after a long and awful war a peace treatiy was made. It was peaceful for some and a party for the rest.

Those who were majorly effected by the exeterm events of the past few years were recovering in treatment centers. Those to rich to deal with real world issues were partying in their manions, glad that they didn't have to give any more of their money to the poor and soilders off at war, and those rich enough to benefit from the war itself were off sulking in a conner somewhere and complaing to other rich people about resources.

Its been a rough few years, stravation, povtery, drug addiction, and many many deaths all finally lead up to these final moments of peace. A long recover awaited them, both for the people and the earth itself who took a major toll from war and mass farming of its resours. Even though many more issues were yet to come, everyone enjoyed the small moment of peace as they either relaxed in front of the tv, hugged their love ones, or pray for those who were lost.

Everything lead up to this final moment, the news going on about the offical a announcemet of peace that happened days before, with similar progams playing all across the world.

Besides the excitment, everybody knew deep down in some way the great effect of the war will cause a exeterm amount of tenison for the next many many years, one that may never be solved. While the world leaders may of publicly made peace, nobody besides the people effected will ever truley know if this war is over or not as politicians have a bad habit of being awful people. 

It was on that peaceful night that a very spefic poltician fulfilled that horrible role and went back on his word of peace, causing the death of trillions all within a few seconds.

Chapter Text

Every since a young age, Virgil only rembers life within the buncker.

It was safe there, the damp smell of the molding walls, the stinky drain in the far conner, the small cramped space that just screamed home to him.

Virgil, like all of the other childern raised within their small community, were raised on storys of the outside. The only ones who actucally been outside were the adults, the ones covered with heavy proctive gear and weapons, the ones who came back with stories of ginat, fresh eating monsters and acid rain.

Its been almost a month now since Virgils own mother have lefted the saftey of the bunker to grab some herbs for a expecting furture mother. A month since the sweet older women bent down to Virgils height and gave him a sweet kiss to the head, and whispered on how she'll be back in a few days and to "not worry that hyperactive head of his on silly old her,".

He heard the whispers amongest the community on how she never took this long before and that she should of been back by now. He also heard the more angier and much louder "whispers" of the elders, speaking on how reckless it was to let her go alone, and how if she doesn't return anytime soon then it would be a waste of perfectly good gear and supplies. 

Virgil always felt hatred for the elders, his mother raised him to respect them and to understand their struggles.

"They were the first surivors," said his mother, "They are the reason your alive right now, they have to live through the tragedy war but still somehow survied and spent the rest of their life creating this wonderful village you live in now."

Virgil understood that, it was something that was repeated to him everytime he found himself furstarded with their stupid, nonsensical rules. His mom told him he was too young to understand, which made Virgil even more furstarded. Sure he was young, but he didn't understand how that had anything to do with it!

And now Virgil couldn't help but to feel anger, his own mother was lost out there, and while he may be young he knows what that ment, he knew what it ment the moment her time outside crossed into the 3rd day. His biggest fear, something his mother always found sweet but pointless, was her not coming home after leaving.

His mother always reminded him that it was pointless, that she would be fine, that she did this many times before and nothing bad has ever happened then.

'But it could!' he always told himself but never dared to speak back to his mother. He just nodded and lefted it at that, but even at age 9 he knew the risk, the same risk he been taught over and over again within his small life, something that have been reminded to him by the nervous looks the fellow community memebers passed around evenever he entered a room. 

The risk that his mother wasn't coming home.

Chapter Text

Remus's whole body shooked, curled up cold and hungry, hiding against the cold and damd floors of the concrete below. An awful smell in the air, assulating all of his senese.

Raiders broke into his community home, his grandmother, one of the orginal survivers, always told on how their home used to be used as a basment/storage room in a small little store. Remus didn't really know what those words ment, but he enjoyed listening to his grandmother anyways. The harsh smell in the air reminded him of how he wouldn't be able to listen to his sweet grandmothers stories anymore, how she wouldn't be able to hold his hand as gun shoots ringed outside, how she's laying lifeless on the floor across from him and its all his flaut-

Chocked sobs spilled from his cracked, bleeding lips. This wasn't the fun, happy day it started out as. Remus didn't even know if it was day anymore. All he knew was death, the raiders took everything, from food to even people. It was painful, all Remus could do was hide curled up in a small hole in the wall in the far conner. It was his only space to himself he really had as he was the only one who could fit. Not even his brother could cramp himself into the small hole in the wall like he could, something he always held against the fellow twin.

Hunger striked and stabbed into him once more, feeling sick all over. He could leave, this was something he knew. The harsh sound of gun fire still took off in the distance, there was no making out of this alive. Even as a skinny little 12 year old he knew it was over. His body betrayed him in everyway, as much as he wanted this situation to stop he knew it wouldn't. This was his reality, the only family the boy known was gon, his brother fled when the first shot was fired, his grandmother laid dead on the floor, the thick hungrer pains he was exprincing were just becoming to much all at once. Remus couldn't think, he couldn't breath, he couldn't even stop himself from ugly sobbing in the conner with his body jammed into a exetermly uncomforbale postion so he could fit.

Every moment was pain, covered in his own waste and blood. He did nothing to stop the raiders, nothing he could do to stop them, and Remus knew if he didn't eat something soon this would be the end. 

Remus was going to die.