A/N: Late Valentine's present to you all.
Warnings/Triggers: Some Spanish. Miscarriage.
Percy's POV
I remember the first time we had a serious argument as a married couple, and ironically enough, I have no idea what it'd been about. It had been along the lines of her having an opinion about something- oh wait. I do remember.
We had been bickering about the topic of whether or not to have kids. It'd gone somewhat like this.
"Wise Girl?" I whispered. I was sprawled out on the hammock, Annabeth folded up against my right side with her head resting on my chest. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing slowly, but every once in a while her hand would slide up and down over my chest, letting me know she was still awake. She didn't respond to me so I shook her shoulder a bit.
"Annabeeeeeth..." I said a bit louder. Her eyebrows creased and I was rewarded with a low hum. I tried one more time. "Anna-"
"Percy Jackson if you call me one more time, I swear we're going back home. Why can't you just enjoy the peacefulness for a while?" she propped herself up a bit, making the yellow hammock tilt dangerously. She was frowning at me disdainfully, but her gray eyes looked placid. I cracked a smile at her expense and leaned up to kiss her. "Percy wait!"
Too late. The cheap hammock flipped and dumped us unceremoniously onto the gritty sand. Annabeth groaned and twisted away, trying to free herself from under my torso. I turned over and stared up at the sky, still feeling a grin lighting up my face. Once she had stood up and dusted her khaki capris and thin white tank top down, she took a look at me still on the ground and chortled. She tried to pull me up, but seeing as I was taller and heavier than her (time does some impressive things to you) eventually I got up on my own. We strolled slowly, hands laced together, towards our beach house.
Every summer, before it was time to be at Camp to help run things, we got away to the worn but clean bungalow on stilts. It was only for a week, but it was the time I looked forward to most each year. We had gotten it on a more or less secluded Florida beach as a wedding present from my dad. He knew we didn't need much to get along fine. Contrariwise , Athena, in an act of passive-aggressive one-upping against Poseidon, had given us an architectural wonder in California. Her efforts were near futile, as we only used the mini-mansion when it was too stormy to stay in the Florida house.
It just in a way felt empty, with only the two of us. Which is exactly what I'd addressed Annabeth on once we'd made it home. She was in the shower washing the grit off of her skin because it had been irritating her. I stood at the mirror as it slowly fogged up. My face was perpetually tan, and I knew I needed to get a hair cut or something. My eyes looked darker green, more tired, than they had when I was younger, like it'd witnessed every terrible living thing there was to witness. Which in a way, I guess I had. Obviously nothing to brag about, because seriously, who wants to look at horrible things all their lives? I left the bathroom to change my shirt and start dinner.
"Percy, are you making shrimp ramen, again?" she preceded her question with a laugh, and rested her forehead against my back. I turned off the fire and turned around, pulling her close. She was thin and athletically built, and she was warm. Her damp hair was in a bun so that it would "curl right" or whatever and a flew fly-aways stuck to my collarbone. She was the same as she'd always been.
We stood there for Zeus knows how long before I broke the silence, "Wise Girl, I've got a serious question." She lifted her cheek from my shirt and gazed at me, like she was analyzing my possible queries.
"Yeah?" I took a deep breath, stepped back and took her hand. I sat down in a creaky, peeling white chair, looking up at her.
"Have you...have you ever given thought to the possibility of...having kids?" her face clearly told me she hadn't been anticipating the question, not really. "I'm just curious. You don't have to-"
"Percy-" she started. From then her mouth just opened and closed, like she couldn't figure out what to say. Annabeth slid her fingers from my grip and pulled up a chair for herself, directly in front of me. She sat up straight, and displayed what I called her "debate face."
"I don't feel like talking about this right now."
"Wise Girl, please. I just want to get it off my chest. Every time I think about this, I feel like Mrs. O'Leary is taking a nap on my ribs."
"Just, can we drop it for now?" she looked a little skittish while she wiped her hands on her shirt.
"No. Just talk to me, please. Have you ever even thought about it?"
"Percy, I want to let you know I have thought about having kids, many times. But I digress over to the topic of our age. We've only been married for roughly over a year. We're only twenty-two. Don't you feel like we're...rushing this?"
"No," I reached for her hands again, and she finally let her cold glare melt as she redirected her gaze to her lap, "Annabeth, I love you and I always have and always will. I would feel perfectly fine with having a kid while we're young- more time to teach him, or her, the basics of surviving as...uh, as a legacy. But it's perfectly fine if you don't want to."
She suddenly snaps her stormy gray eyes back up to my face, "And who said that I don't want to?"
I blinked, "Oh. You were trying really hard not to have to talk about this. And...well you'd taken up the rebuttal against me, so I assumed that you weren't ready or something..."
"It isn't for you to say whether or not I'm ready for something!" She stood up so swiftly that the chair clattered backwards were threatening to spill out of her eyes. I remember thinking how strangely uncharacteristic that response had been. I'd expected her to have a factual, slightly sentimental chat with me about the pros and cons of being parents. I hadn't been expecting this.
"Annabeth, I wasn't implying anything like that."
"Yes, you plainly were! You don't know how I think. You aren't me." the comment stung. It burned worse than an ambrosia overdose (not that anything like that had happened to me yet, but I was pretty darn close one time). Suddenly I found myself getting angry. Where was my erudite, even-headed partner in combat and life?
"Annabeth Jackson, I am not trying to be you, or act like I understand your motives." she wrenched her hands away and started backing out of the kitchen, anger projecting out of her steel eyes and into my soul. Di immortals...
I stood up slowly and glared right back at her, "What is wrong with you? Why are you blowing this out of proportion? And stop twisting my words." I'd said it as levelly as possibly. I wasn't going to let her tear me apart with those eyes. "I'm not sure what your problem is right now, but you really aren't acting yourself. And you know what? Maybe you aren't ready to have a child with me."
Time seemed to stop. No, it froze solid, stuck in that moment, and I swear I could literally see Annabeth's heart breaking. I don't know what spurred me to add the last sentence. It was unnecessary. It was hurtful. And it had probably gotten me a one-way ticket to a kind of pain I didn't want to experience. But I was mad and I didn't take it back.
She hands curled into fists, and her face was so scarlet, I was afraid she would pop from holding in that fury. Silently, she turned around, and stalked into the bedroom.
I don't know how long I sat at the table, staring at the rough unfinished wood. The smell of shrimp still lingered in the air even though the noodles must've been long since cold. I don't know what time it was when I finally got up and dumped the contents of the pot. I cleaned it and suddenly found myself outside our bedroom door. There was no light creeping under the door and I could hear the AC purring from it's perch in one of the windows. I ran a hand through my hair roughly, then shoved the door open.
I'm not sure what I expected to see. Probably the curve of Annabeth's body under the blanket, or the yellowish glare of her booklight. Maybe even her sitting on the recliner, crying. But she wasn't there. And the open drawers and closet proved to be devoid of everything she'd brought. She'd packed her entities and just left. Disbelief flooded through me, and I remember how it took all of my willpower not to just collapse. This was worse than any monster I'd ever faced, worse than any quest gone wrong. I was losing a part of me that was just as essential to my existence as the sea.
I woke up, dazed and confused on the foot of the bed, the sky outside the window displaying the first glimpses of sunrise. I sat up slowly, a crick paining my neck, and my feet were freezing. That's when I saw what I hadn't noticed in the darkness of last night. A scrap of paper flitted in the weak breeze still being spat out by the AC. It was pinned down by something gold. For a moment I was filled with dread, thinking that it might be her wedding ring, the one I'd had Tyson make special for her, when I realized it was just an earring. I picked up the note and read it slowly over and over, as Annabeth hadn't done me the courtesy of writing it in Ancient Greek.
"Percy,
I need some time to think. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone. Call Hazel or Leo if you can't reach my cell.
Annabeth
P.S. Hazel moved from her old apartment, so no use trying to track me down. It'd be a futile effort.
P.P.S. Oh yeah, I took the car."
These days I can laugh at Annabeth's lighthearted abscondense notice. But at the time, I was so numb, I was wondering how few threads I must've had holding my sanity together.
Annabeth's POV
That first quarrel had been a doozy. The extreme mood swings I had been feeling still are a mystery to the both of us. Ok, well not really. I was in fact, acting out of anger, hurt, and impulse when I left for Hazel's home in New Orleans. I don't know what I was expecting. Comfort, presumably. Although I regret storming out, I am happy to have gone out to visit my friend. I can still recount the experience like it was yesterday...
I sat in the car heading away from Panacea. I drove on all night for about 8 hours, and by the time I found myself in front of Hazel and Leo's small rented 2 family split home I was glad to get out of the olive green Ford. The sky was a ever ascending blue, the sun barely starting to creep up behind the houses on the other side of the street. I headed up the concrete driveway, which was lined with several types of parched-looking flowers. When I made it to the two doors, I look into my phone for the text Hazel had sent me when I said I'd be coming over.
"...then turn onto Rue Greenwic. 7th house on the right. It is brown, gray mailbox. We are in the door to the left. See you soon (((:"
As I knocked, it occurred to me that I probably should have made myself presentable first. I looked myself over, tugging my wrinkled periwinkle shirt into place, zipped up my sweater, and redid my sagging bun into a ponytail. I was digging through my small purse for a mint or gum when the door open. I followed tan legs upwards and found myself face to face with one disoriented Leo Valdez. I noticed that his boxers were basically a cloth shrine to Bugs Bunny and his unruly hair stuck up in odd angles. I did my best not to outright guffaw at him.
His confusion was quickly replaced with a tired smile, "Oh, sup Annabeth? It's like 6 am ya know. Little early fir spontaneous visits." He stumbled a bit when a pair of toffee-brown hands shooed him from the doorway. Hazel took his place in the doorway, a wide grin lighting up her whole face and making me feel a little better. Unlike Leo, she looked wide awake; her white undershirt was impeccably clean, and her pleated plaid skirt was ironed to perfection. All of her nails were rounded and painted black and her hair was in a neat (despite it being wildly curly and riddled with flyaways) ponytail. A white watch was buckled firmly to her left wrist. I smiled back in return.
My moment of admiration was cut short when the smaller girl pulled me in for a hug. This whole time, all I'd felt was a detachment from myself, but suddenly I was on the verge of tears again. She pulled back and brought me into the dimly lit living room. She directed me to a nondescript couch. I sat down, with reassurances that she would be back momentarily.
I hadn't been thinking about anything in particular, when there was a loud thump coming from a room down the hall. Leo could be heard groaning and Hazel's fussing filtered down the hall.
"Leo! I told you Annabeth was coming to visit today! You couldn't have made yourself presentable by now?"
"Hm...you didn't wake me."
"I beg your pardon sir, but I did try to wake you. Twice! Now up, up you go. Off of the floor now. Leo, by Zeus, get up off the floor right now, or so help me I'm gonna-"
Their dialog got very muffled from that point on, and I couldn't help but note that Hazel's old-fashioned, Southern accent became very noticeable when she was angry. A few minutes later, I heard a shower start and Hazel shuffled out of the hallway, fanning her face and looking flustered and miffed. She headed for the kitchen and motioned me over. I got up and joined her.
At first, neither of us said anything while Hazel started putting Crisco into a warming frying pan. I helped her by taking out bread, eggs, and half & half. She smirked at me. "You tryin' to read my mind, or did somebody tell you I was making French Toast?" I smiled back at her and shrugged. I didn't tell her that her shopping list was still on the fridge, dated yesterday and titled 'Get French Toast Ingredients'.
Soon the batter was mixed and every few minutes Hazel was either flipping or removing a slice of toast. She ended up using half the loaf of Texas toast before putting the rest away in the dented silver bread box. Once the last of the toast was done, she placed the plate of it in the middle of the small kitchen table where I had been seated.
She added milk, salt, and pepper to some whisked eggs in a bowl and started to scramble them in the same skillet as before, "Okay Annabeth. Why don't we try to handle your...situation? Tell me exactly how this argument went, to the best of your abilities. Facts, then opinions." I recounted the whole thing to her, almost word for word. When I was done, I told her exactly how I felt about each sentence that had been spoken. I didn't mind talking to her back as she finished the eggs and started to fry pre-cooked, frozen hash browns. It was better not to have any eyes trained on me as I poured out my heart.
By the time I was done, Hazel had filled three glasses with orange juice. The kettle had just been put on. I rubbed my eyes, suddenly exhausted. Hazel finally finished arranging breakfast and stepped back, a camera suddenly in her hand.
"Hey, where did you-" I started before I was blinded by the flash. The younger girl took a moment and told me about a scrapbook she was making. She then proceeded to address my "problem." But the moment she finished her first sentence, Leo padded in, towel over his dripping hair. He grinned at me, making me feel like there was some awful prank waiting for me. Or maybe that was just the way his face had always been. I was too tired to try to realize that at the time, though. He sauntered over and gave me an awkward one-person-sitting-one-person-standing hug.
He stood straight again, apologizing for getting shower water on me, "So, I guess I'm just here to eat breakfast then leave you two to your lady problems. But of course, if you think you need a third-wheel, I'll be in the living room." He picked up a plate and glass before stopping in the doorway to the kitchen, near Hazel. She was frowning at the unwavering smirk on his face, and he put his cup down on the counter behind her. I'd watched with a little fascination as he hugged her with one arm, pressing her back against the counter. Leo was slightly taller than me, but compared to Hazel he was huge.
Hazel started to look flustered again as Leo whispered something in her ear, her short nails dug into his arm. He started to pull back, juice in hand again; the look of indignation grew on her face, "LEO! YOU DOG!" She threw the spatula at him over the bar-counter. He just chuckled at her, falling backwards onto the couch and somehow managing not to spill his food. The TV was heard shortly after that.
The younger demigod, stalked to the table, irritation on her face, "I swear he's going to be my undoing..."
"What did he say?"
"Nothing of any meaning really. I think he just takes joy in seeing me embarrassed." She reached over and cut off the flame under the kettle. "Tea? Coffee? Hot cocoa?"
I shook my head, "No thanks." I started to eat the plate she'd dished in front of me. The food was palatable.
"So, as I'd been saying. It seems that the problem isn't too serious. And both parties said some rather stupid things- no offense. And you were right to leave, to blow off steam I think. But..." Hazel trailed off, her amber eyes trailing away from mine, and down to the warm syrup on her pain perdu. I decided to finish for her.
"I was the one who was wrong, wasn't I?" I put another forkful of food into my mouth, but this time I didn't really taste it, the truth weighting me down.
"It wasn't that it was your fault. It was just that you sort of started it, kind of blew a simple conversation into something else. You misconstrued Percy's words as you realize, but why was it that you were trying to avoid the whole thing? Is something the matter?" she lowered her voice and leaned forward a little. At this point I had stopped eating altogether. I felt the tears, prickling at the edges of my eyes. I looked back up at Hazel, noticing that behind her in the living room, Leo was watching us.
I decided to let it drop, the big secret I'd been holding threatened to cause my implosion, "Hazel, I was pregnant before. A few months ago. I had a miscarriage." I averted my gaze. Slow footsteps could be faintly heard as Leo joined us at the table. He took one of my hands and Hazel took the other but I still didn't look at either of them.
Leo finally said something, "Does Percy know?"
I let a few tears go before answering, "No, he doesn't. I didn't even know I was pregnant, not at first. I had been feeling sick for about a week. Percy thought it was a stomach virus, but I thought otherwise. The test was positive. I was building up to telling him. I...I wanted it to be special. I...and then a week later...the bathroom...I don't want to try again..." My own tears stopped me from continuing. That soon gave way to flat out ugly sobbing. I heard Hazel start to sniffle. She was squeezing my hand harder. Leo didn't respond, his gaze was unfocused.
I cried for maybe twenty minutes, and when I was through, I felt starved, dirty, and tired. But best of all, I felt relieved. I'd finally told someone what had been bothering me. The thing was, I also felt like I'd betrayed Percy, by not letting him be the first to know, about everything that had happened to me in the last few months. I pried my hands from my friends' and went back to eating my food, to their amusement. It was a little on the cold side, but I was hungry. Hazel placed a box of tissues near me, then excused herself and went down the hall again. Leo watched her go.
"Sorry Annabeth. She gets a little emotional when someone she loves is hurting," Leo, pat my shoulder. I figured he was going to say more when the doorbell rang. He stood up, but Hazel had already bustled back down to the front door. I got up, putting my mostly empty plate next to the sink. I would've washed it had I been a little more lively.
I followed him out to the door where Hazel was talking to a tall bulky, dark skinned man. He had a thick mustache and was holding a squirming, fussy toddler in one hand, a pink diaper bag in the other. Hazel stepped back to let Leo talk, while I drifted over to the couch. A few minutes later Hazel came back in, sat next to me, and held my hand. Leo followed with the little girl, the door closing behind him.
I found myself staring at the small child. She held a plastic baby doll in her fat brown hand. Leo let her hand go and went to place the diaper bag by the television. The girl stared back at me before asking, "Tu llevas Beba?"
I blinked at her, caught off guard, "Uhm, Leo, could you translate that?"
"She wants to know if you want to hold her baby," he sat down in a barrel chair and started rummaging through the girl's bag.
"Oh. Sure sweetheart. I'll hold your baby." I knew some Spanish but had no doubt in my mind that the little girl handing me her doll knew more and could call me out on it.
Hazel knew I was curious about the little stranger, "Annabeth, this is Cara. She's three and a half. Leo watches her on Fridays and Sundays while her dad is at the hospital; her mom has cancer. Their family is from Panama," Hazel said to me rather informatively, "Maybe in a little while, when she's down for her nap, we can talk again." I concurred and reached for the doll. Cara placed it in my hand but the moment she let go, I realized I hadn't been gripping it tight enough. The doll slipped from my hands, onto the floor, much to Cara's horror.
"Beba! Esta loca, señora?" she fussed, picking up her doll. Her eyebrows where furrowed and even her fat cheeks were frowning. Leo cracked up at her and translated to Hazel who giggled a little. I wasn't listening though, as I felt bad about dropping it.
"I'm sorry for dropping the baby, Cara. Lo siento," she frowned at me then suddenly grinned, tiny baby teeth filling her smile. She walked up to me, tangled black pigtails bobbing. She stopped in front of me and placed the plastic doll on my lap.
"Beba te perdonas," she said sweetly. The baby forgives you. The tears threatened to return and something about Hazel's story seemed suspicious. I squinted at Hazel and Leo in turn.
"Who's her real mother, and who is it that's in the hospital?" they shared a look. Leo answered.
"Her mom's Concordia. Goddess of understanding, marital harmony. That kinda magical stuff. Her stepmom's in the hospital."
"That explains why I felt like she was conscious of what she was saying," I turned back to Cara who had started waddling over to Leo, "Thank you, Cara."
She stopped walking and turned back about, "Papá perdonas tambien, Señora Rubia," Daddy forgives you too. I felt like I'd been punched in the abdomen, and I pressed my hand there. She continued over to Leo who started talking to her rapidly.
"Porque no haces te ir a caminar con tio Leo? Tia Hazel y Señora Pelo Rubia debe tener una platica privada."
She scowled at him, "Yo no quieres ir a pie."
"Si, así es. Mira el lado bueno, yo no soy una especie de psico niñera, yeah? Que te gusta pasando el tiempo con Tio?"
"...Ok. Voy a pensar en ello," she tapped her chin thoughtfully, but seemed to be backing down as Leo some sandals on.
He grinned at her, "Trata de no pensar mucho, va a interfiera con estar loco." They head for the door. Leo stopped next to the couch, hands in his pockets and still smiling.
"Besides the fact that most likely neither of you followed that whole conversation and we didn't get much done today, I want you to know that I loved having you over here, Annabeth." Cara called for Leo impatiently. He bent over in front of Hazel, took her face in his hands, and kissed her for a few moments before I became a little uncomfortable and Cara started getting restless. He leaned up, telling her to be careful and to keep her cavalry sword on hand. He said goodbye to me, slipped an EpiPen out of Cara's bag. Then he tightened his tool belt before opening the door for Cara. They walked out. The repair boy and the mini emphatic.
Hazel turned her head back to me, her ambrosia eyes looking a little happier, "I was going to tell you how to make up with Percy, but I've got a feeling that four-year-old, bright, sweet Cara Maryrosa Riaz already gave you all the answers you need, am I right?" She smiled warmly.
I laughed and pulled her into a hug. Yes. A toddling latina had given me all I needed to know about fixing things with my husband.
Long story short, Hazel took me out for lunch. I had my first po'boy and beignet and afterwards she took me around, showing me a few places that she claimed to have changed since the 1940s. We ended up back at her house, where I showered and then fell asleep. Around midnight I woke up to Hazel and Leo watching a movie on the couch. Hazel was knocked out but Leo informed me that she had left me a Tupperware full of jambalaya on the counter. I brushed my teeth, changed my clothes, and grabbed the container. I hugged Leo goodbye, telling him to say the same to Hazel for me.
Once I was in the car, I stopped at the gas station and filled all the way up, leaving me a bit low in my bank account. I got back in and started driving all the way from New Orleans to Long Island. I knew that Percy wouldn't refrain from going to the camp even if he was upset and without transportation. He would find a way.
Nearly 22 hours, several stops, and a monster attack on the border between Georgia and Tennessee later, I found myself exhausted on top of Half Blood Hill. I nodded to Peleus as I passed but he didn't raise his head. I stretched as I went, wondering where Percy might be lodging. The cleaning harpies ignored me, knowing my scent as I'd been attending camp for so long. I was headed to the Big House, where Chiron insisted we stay after we'd been married. I stopped dead in my tracks though, realizing that if the argument between me and Percy had happened the other way around, then I wouldn't be staying in the Big House. I would be in my cabin.
I turned on my heel and started back towards Cabin Three. When I got inside, relief, sadness, guilt but most of all, love flooded through me. Percy was in his bunk, by himself in the dark cabin. He was asleep. I stood in front of the sleeping face that was so familiar. He looked worn out and I felt horrible for the insomnia I must have caused. I kissed his forehead, stepped back, and dug a piece of paper from my duffel. Pulling a pen from my purse and swiping blonde curls from my view, I jotted a note for him.
"Seaweed Brain,
I'm sorry for storming off the way I did. You did not deserve that treatment. The argument was mostly my fault and there are some...things that we need to talk about in the morning. As in the reason why I didn't want to talk about having kids that is. I love you, I really do. I'm not going to let a disagreement or tragedy or our parents or anything get in the way of us. When we were 16 I told you I was going to build something permanent. And that was a promise.
Love,
Your Wise-Girl"
