Left Behind | Percabeth

Part IV

A LITTLE OVER TWO weeks later, Annabeth received her first letter from Percy. In it, he told that he'd not yet reached Europe—the travel was estimated seventeen days. It was then day three, and he told her how much he missed her already, and how he could not fathom two whole years without her beside him. She smiled at the letter, thinking of the stupid grimaces he would make when writing letters at home.

   Due to the long travel time, he told her, his letters forward would be written nearly three weeks before they reach her. The idea irks Annabeth: a lot can happen in three weeks. But he told her not to fret; if anything major happens, a radio correspondence would be sent to the States, and she would then be told the news by a military official showing up at her doorstep mere days after it happening. In short, as long as no one in a uniform knocks on her door, he would be fine.

   Still, his lack of letters unnerved her. Anything could happen to him at any given moment, and she'd have no idea. The radio had yet to tell too many horror stories, but Annabeth knew it was only a matter of time. It had been the same way in the last war. This time, however, people had television, and the bloody happenings could be seen, visualised, in a way previously incomprehensible. Despite a large part of the population already owning one, they had not yet had the means to afford one in their household, but Paul would sometimes come from work and tell what he'd seen, or Annabeth would pass by a store that sold them, only to be greeted with flying planes or bombs exploding. She would always make sure to conceal Estelle of the horrors; no child should ever witness the terrors of war.

   One such day, when Annabeth had come home after running to the butcher with Estelle in tow and shielded her from a television playing, Annabeth, upon entering the flat, felt a sudden ick of sick. Hence, she quickly sat Estelle down and rushed to the nearest rubbish bin, that happened to be in the kitchen. Once she'd emptied her stomach, she fell limp against the kitchen counters on the floor and closed her eyes, her head lulling from side to side.

   After a little time, she felt a small pair of hands touch her arm. 'Annbeff?' Estelle asked, and Annabeth opened her eyes to see the toddler looked worriedly at her. In that moment, though, she saw only Percy. Her heartrate sped up for a moment. 'Annbeff is you okay?'

   Annabeth smiled a little as she picked her under the arms and sat her in her lap, bouncing her a bit like she knew she loved. Estelle giggled. Annabeth put her face in the young one's hair, inhaling what little baby scent she had left. 'Yes, angel,' she said. 'I am okay.'

***

Two days later, Annabeth left Estelle with some of the other washmaids to go to a doctor's office.

   When the doctor asked how long ago she thought it was, Annabeth replied without hesitation, almost so quickly it startled the doctor, '21st of October. '

   The doctor peered at her; he had probably seldom been met with a reaction so clear and precise.

   'Around 10:30 a.m. So about a month ago,' she continued, not meeting his eyes, almost in a transfixed daze.

   'Okay,' he chuckled, raising his eyebrows and pushing the brim of his glasses further up on his nose. 'That is quite on the dot. May I ask why you know it so exactly?'

   Annabeth took a deep breath. 'My husband left to fight in Europe. That was the last time I saw him.'

   He sighed, a sympathetic gesture. 'I am sorry to hear. May he be well.'

   Annabeth just nodded.

   The doctor shuffled in his seat, looking at some papers, twirling the pencil in his hand. 'Have you had your...' He trailed off and his eyes peered downwards. Annabeth's ears went red.

   'No.'

   'Would you mind if I take a look?'

   Annabeth shook her head, and lifted her feet into a pair of stirrups the doctor guided her to, after she'd taken her knickers off, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the breeze hitting her exposed lower body. When he started touching, Annabeth couldn't help but feel like an animal on display. She'd seen how the women at brothels and other sinners' arrangements looked, after she'd once accidentally taken a wrong turn down a street and ended among drunks and half naked—painted—ladies, smiling wide as day but the sadness glistening in their eyes, only trying to make a living. She even knew a girl who used to work at a place like that; the stories of men creeping up on her, touching her where she wished not to be touched, kissing her where she wished not to be kissed; they still scared her.

   Annabeth came back to the doctor's office when he said, 'It does look like a pregnancy, but we need a urine sample to be sure.' He patted her inner thigh for good measure, and Annabeth was sure she was going to be sick again. 'So if you can fix me one of those, I'd like to see you back here in about a week, if that sounds alright with you?'

   Annabeth just nodded as she picked her knickers from the ground and put them back on, her eyes not meeting his.

   Annabeth had not told Paul what she was going to the doctor's for, but when she told him she'd been sick a few days prior, his one eyebrow shot up and understanding seemed to pass over him. Thus, he did not inquire when Annabeth came home later than usual that day, Estelle, as always, in her arms.

   'Dada!' the little girl cried as she saw her father. Paul's face lit up as he took her in his arms, Annabeth trotting to the kitchen to empty the groceries she'd taken care of.

   When he a few moments later stepped into the kitchen without Estelle, he had one eyebrow quirked, the same as when she'd told him about the visit to the doctor's office.

   'So, will we have another one running about soon?' he inquired, and Annabeth could not hide the smile spreading on her face, however much she tried.

   'He's not certain, but he said it indeed looked like that. I'll know in a week's time, but I shouldn't even tell you that.' Her smile faltered a bit as she continued, 'The first three months are always the most risky, you know that.' Paul did indeed know, Annabeth too. She'd had much too many lost children already. 'But I do feel good about this one.' She smiled a bit more, for it was true; she did feel better about this one than all the other's they had tried for. Maybe, it was the tragic circumstances under which it had happened. Maybe, it was a sign from the gods. Maybe, it was fate. Maybe, it was just a mothers intuition. She knew not, but she did know that she did not lie as she said those words.

   Paul engulfed her in a fatherly hug, and it hurt her in a weird way; she was so rarely held like this by her own father. 'I know they're risky, but you can't do this alone, Annabeth. No matter how much I know you wish to. So I'll be there for you, every step of the way.'

   Annabeth nodded into his neck and she pressed her tears down; how she'd even gotten so lucky as to be married into this family, was one thing she would never understand.