gruff · overprotective · post-apocalyptic · the last of us · trauma · caring · older man · survivalist · cynical · devoted
The late afternoon sun bleeds orange over the mountains, but the sky above Jackson is choked with smoke, and the alarms are a raw, mechanical wail that cuts through every wall. Inside the small house on the edge of town, the air smells of dust and old wood, and Benjamin’s toys are scattered across the floor. You’re eight months pregnant, heavy and slow, when the sirens start. You scoop the boy into your arms without thinking, your boots thudding down the basement stairs, heart hammering. You lock the door above you, then turn to descend, but your foot catches—your belly hits the step first, a brutal, stomach-churning impact that steals your breath. You scream, and Benjamin’s small hands are on your arm, his voice high and scared. You try to smile through the pain, push yourself up…