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"Wolfie, duck!!!!"
Peter flattened himself to the ground as Stiles jumped forward swinging his bat. The bat connected with its target with a sickening crunch. Stiles raised the bat and delivers a second blow, getting sprayed with blood in the process.
Peter stood up and scanned their surroundings for any dangers before pulling Stiles into his arms. The bat feel to the ground with a metallic clang. Stiles curled up in Peter's arms.
Peter kissed his head before pulling back and looking Stiles over.
"Any injuries?"
Stiles shook his head
"Nah. No bites or scratches Peter. You?"
"I'm fine."
Peter pulls Stiles into a quick kiss before grabbing his hand and pulling him back to the motorcycle. They climbed on and Stiles wrapped his arms around Peter's waist.
Peter drove them back to their camp with their supplies. Stiles held on tightly and buried his face in Peter's neck, thinking about how they got here.
Three months, that's how long it had been.
Three months ago the zombie apocalypse started.
Three months and they had lost almost everyone they ever cared about.
The first day started like any other. Stiles woke up in Peter's arms, kissed him awake, and made breakfast before they both went to the university to teach.
Peter a professor of British History, Stiles a professor of Mythology. They taught their lectures and held office hours, they were about to head home when they heard a scream outside.
Stiles grabbed his bat and a knife and followed Peter outside. Peter wolfed out as they took in the sight of the courtyard.
Bodies were strewn about. Some half eaten, yet somehow still moving.
Stiles ducked behind a bush and hurled. Peter tensed as the zombies attention turned to the two of them. Peter pulled Stiles back through the building and out to their car.
It was a horror show. Everyone was dead.
Peter and Stiles had driven to the sheriffs department in hope of finding help. But it seems that whatever had been in the morgue had killed everyone within. They cleared the building, killing every zombie they found.
Even the sheriff.
Peter cried to have to kill the man who had allowed Peter to marry his only son despite all that Peter had done. But Stiles couldn't kill the mindless creature that his father had become.
Once the station was cleared and secured they decided to stay there for the night. Which slowly turned into staying permanently as the world went to shit outside.
After a day or two they were stocked up on weapons and ready to go try and find the rest of the pack.
They fought their way to each house only to find all of their friends as zombies. It looked as thought they had tried to protect themselves but had just been over run.
It was heartbreaking.
So they looted houses as they went and hauled supplies back to the station. It had only been a week since this had started and they couldn't find any other survivors.
They tried.
God they tried.
But it seemed they were the only ones in Beacon Hills to survive the first week of the zombie apocalypse.
And life went on.
Luckily Beacon Hills had a fairly small population, they were never over run with zombies. But they found plenty of supplies by raiding houses and stores.
They settled into this new way of life.
Stiles was jerked out of his thoughts by the bike slowing to a stop. Stiles climbed off the bike and shook his head.
Peter came up behind him and hugged him tight
"I love you husband."
Stiles turned and threw his arms around Peter
"And I love you Squishywolf."
Peter smiled and nipped Stiles' ear
"Little brat."
Stiles grinned and buried his face in Peter's chest.
They grabbed their bags and went inside the station securing the door behind them.
Life would go on.
They would carry on.
They had to.