Beyond the Storm: A Percabeth Collection

Fallen Skies, Rising Hearts (A Post-Apocalyptic AU)

This one is dedicated to Togahatesyouall. Thanks for reading and voting on an idea!

Annabeth's POV

The silence of the world pressed down on me like a heavy weight. It was the kind of silence that no longer felt peaceful, but instead suffocating. Every street, every house, every corner of the once-bustling city was now deserted, overtaken by the remnants of the apocalypse. The kind of quiet that made your skin crawl, and in the emptiness, you couldn't tell if you were waiting for something to happen or if the world was simply waiting for you to disappear too.

It had been months since the world had changed, and in all that time, it had only gotten worse.

I remember the first few days after everything started to crumble—how the chaos erupted with sirens blaring in the distance, cars screeching as people tried to flee, the constant thudding of footsteps and gunshots as humanity tried to hold on. But in the blink of an eye, it all ended, and the world fell silent.

In that silence, it was just me and my brothers.

Matthew and Bobby, still too young to truly understand what had happened, clung on to me. Their big brown eyes always looked to me for reassurance, as though I could somehow make everything better. They'd wake up in the middle of the night, their little sobs muffled in the darkness, but they'd never say what they were dreaming about. I wasn't sure what kept them awake—if it was the monsters outside or the nightmares of the world that had been stolen from them.

There were days when I didn't know how much longer I could keep going. I was their protector now, their mother, their everything. And as much as I loved them, as much as I wanted to shield them from the horrors of this world, it was becoming harder and harder. There were moments when my strength felt like it was wearing thin.

They were only 8, but the weight of responsibility was heavier than anything I could've imagined. I was the adult now, the one who had to find food, find shelter, make sure they stayed safe from the horrors outside. They shouldn't have to see what I saw. They shouldn't have to fight zombies or experience the kind of pain we'd felt when our world had come crashing down.

But I had no choice.

I couldn't risk them being out there on their own. So I kept them close—too close, sometimes. I never let them venture out with me when I went scavenging. I couldn't bear the thought of them seeing a zombie up close, of watching one of those things get too close for comfort. They weren't ready for that, not yet.

It wasn't just the zombies I feared for them. It was the world that had changed around us. I could protect them from the undead, but how could I protect them from this? The loneliness. The isolation. The fear that sometimes crawled up from the pit of my stomach and gnawed at my insides.

There were days when I felt like I was the only one left. The last of something that had once been whole, but was now a collection of broken memories. It wasn't the world I had known before. The bustling streets, the sound of children playing in the park, the smell of coffee brewing in the morning—those days felt like a distant dream now. All I had was the dusty remnants of what once was, and two little boys who looked up at me like I was their hero. But I wasn't a hero. I was just a sister, trying her best.

We made do with what we had. We turned an old bookstore into a home, though it was more of a sanctuary than a real place of comfort. We huddled together in the small corner I'd set up for us, the bookshelves turned into walls to keep us from the chaos outside. I kept the windows boarded up, the air heavy with the smell of musty paper, but it was the safest place we had. And every night, I lay awake, listening to the silence outside. And every night, I kept my brothers close, their small bodies pressed against mine, as though if they were near me, they might be safe.