The Stories of Our Heroes

Little Talks

This one-shot is already published in a book called Percabeth One-Shot Community Collection by @crazedauthors1093 which allows other writers to showcase their work! It's a super cool compilation of song fics from all different people - you should check it out! Also, be sure to read the rest of crazed's work because it's really fantastic stuff!

The song this is based on is "Little Talks" by Of Monsters of Men.

I don't like walking around this old and empty house/So hold my hand I'll walk with you my dear

Percy woke to a thumping noise coming from downstairs. He reached to the other side of the bed, hoping to find his wife sleeping peacefully next to him. Instead, he felt only cool sheets. He was instantly up, Riptide in hand. Even though this wasn't the first time he'd found Annabeth out of bed, he was still afraid. Afraid that his worse nightmare was coming true.

"Wise Girl," he called as he hurried down the stairs. "You okay?"

He found her pacing through the kitchen, head held in her hands, bumping into the table and counter and pretty much everything else. Her breathing was heavy. Percy sighed, partly in relief that she was still right in his reach, but also because it hurt him to see her like this.

Discarding his sword, he carefully approached Annabeth. She was walking faster and tugging at the hair that fell over her ears, completely unaware of Percy's presence. He grabbed her arms, trying to pry away her hands. She fought him until he gave up, letting go of her. She backed up quickly, tripping over a chair and almost crashing to the floor. He caught her just in time and pulled her to his chest, taking advantage of her guard being let down.

He kept a strong grip around her torso as she kicked and screamed, tears streaming down her face.

"No, no, no, no, let go! Let go!" Her voice was so sad and broken and pleading that he almost listened. It sent him back to Rome, hanging over that cliff. He promised he'd never let her go, never again. So instead, he just held her tighter, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

"I have to keep moving. If I stop, it catches up to me. It's all my fault, all my fault. I have to keep moving, it's catching me!" she cried.

"Alright, alright," Percy muttered, hauling Annabeth to her feet. "We'll walk. Together."

The stairs creak as I sleep, it's keeping me awake/It's the house telling you to close your eyes

Percy swore he heard someone coming in their room. He recognized soft footsteps and the door seemed to creak open. He even heard a voice calling for him, but it didn't use his name. For so long he had ached for a little voice to say that, to say it to him, that a tear slipped down his face.

"Yeah? Baby?" he asked, his voice thick. No response. He jumped out of bed and rushed down the hall. He heard crying from the room to his left. The door was closed and he threw it open. Empty. The crib, the rocking chair, everything was empty. Nothing had been touched in a long, long time. Suddenly, it was like fog clearing from his head. Reality came crashing down on him and he crumpled to the floor. Dust stirred around him.

Annabeth didn't find him there for hours. She refused to acknowledge that the room even existed. She'd been all over the house, outside, and had even called camp before beginning to consider going down that end of the hallway. As she headed slowly up the creaking stairs, she told herself that the crying she heard coming from the room was all in her head. Her crooked imagination was getting the best of her, and she almost turned around. But Percy was missing and that was enough to make her enter the room she hadn't in so long.