3rd person p.o.v.
11 October 1916…
Annabeth's hands were shaking, which startled her when she noticed. She didn't usually get this nervous. She tried to settle her nerves by taking deep breaths as she stared out at the water. The Etaples harbor stretched a long distance down the French coast. In the distance she could make out the silhouette of a battleship. That must be it: the HMS Neptune. It wouldn't be docking at the harbor; she had learned from the orderlies at the hospital. A smaller boat would bring a modest party to shore. Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, Annabeth looked for the vessel that had left over an hour ago. It was on its way back.
She straightened her doctor's uniform for what had to be the millionth time, running her hands down her skirt to smooth down the creases and straightening the red cross armband that wrapped around her left bicep. There was very little she could do but stand and wait, so Annabeth focused on the boat that was slowly making its way back to the shore.
Distracted, she almost didn't hear the cries for help from further down the pier. A hand tugged on her sleeve, startling her. Annabeth jumped, noticing a young boy, who could be no older than eight or nine, who still had the fabric of her sleeve clutched in his small fist.
He began pleading with her in rapid French, the words becoming jumbled together as he pulled her down the dock. She threw a hasty glance over her shoulder, sighing that she wouldn't be able to meet Percy exactly as she said she would, but then again—needs must. Someone needed her help. Annabeth took hold of the boy's hand and got him to explain what had happened.
Ultimately, the boy's friend had gotten caught in an old fisherman's net that was tangled with rusty hooks and lines. As he had tried to free himself, he only made it worse, until the lines were ensnared around one of his ankles like a vice. Annabeth spoke to him in a calming tone in his native tongue. He was clearly terrified he and his friend would get into trouble for playing around on the docks, but he obviously needed help. She allowed herself to be pulled to the far edge of a dock, where the boardwalk stretched over deep, blue water.
The injured boy was crying when Annabeth got there, and she pursed her lips at the sight of the wound. The thing fishing line had cut into his leg, it was so tight, and it look as though it was cutting off blood flow. If only she had a knife! There was hardly anyone around, however, and she couldn't very well run off to the hospital to find one whilst leaving the boys on their own. It wouldn't be a quick fix, unfortunately, as she now had to try and loosen the cord with only her fingers.
After reassuring her unorthodox patient that he would be alright, she began working at the knots. Her nimble, surgeon's fingers unraveled it, bit by bit, until the child could slip his ankle out. He did not do so as Annabeth planned, however, and the situation changed very quickly. With one swift yank, the boy pulled his leg from the tangled net, the momentum of which propelled him backwards—right over the edge of the dock and into the water.
With a strangled gasp, Annabeth threw herself to the edge, her abdomen coming into contact with the dilapidated boards. Why hadn't she pulled the boy to the middle of the dock upon arrival, she berated herself. The other child was screaming for her to help his friend, and she scanned the dark water for the boy. His head bobbed up, but the current quickly pulled him under again, a burbled cry escaping his lungs. He couldn't swim.
Annabeth pushed herself to her feet and took a deep breath as she leapt off the dock after him. The chilling shock of the water was the first thing she noticed. The water had been starting to cool down with the ease into the winter months, and she could feel it in her bones. Pushing her arms through the frigid waves, Annabeth propelled herself towards the struggling child, who was just trying to keep his head above the water. The weight of her uniform began to pull her down, making it harder to move, but she kept at it. Soon enough she had wrenched the boy into her embrace. His small hands clutched her neck, holding on for dear life as he coughed up seawater. Now that she had him, she could focus on how they would get back to shore, or at least the docks.
But the water was so, so cold. Even though she was treading water to keep them afloat, the movement did nothing to warm her, and Annabeth could feel herself slow as the undertow pulled them further out. She had to focus. If she didn't…well, she knew what would happen. Thoughts running at a million miles a second, she didn't hear the sounds of an approaching boat nor the splash of another body entering the water.
A head bobbed out of the water, revealing the features of someone she recognized—it was Percy Jackson. A startled laugh escaped her chest as Percy swam closer. He was everything she could have ever wished for, and he was finally in front of her. Without so much a greeting, Percy was tugging the whimpering child out of her arms and lifting him up into the outstretched arms of another sailor aboard a fishing boat. Not a moment later, he turned and pulled her toward the boat, and they were both helped over the lip, on board at last.
In a quick blur, a large coat was thrown over her shoulders and Percy tugged her into his embrace. Everything instantly felt right, and despite her shivering, she knew she would be just fine. Percy pulled back and cupped her face, then rested their foreheads together. In a spontaneous bout of courage, Annabeth pushed herself up on her tiptoes, and kissed him with reckless abandon.
A bright, content smile greeted her when she pulled away and opened her eyes.
"Hi." Percy said eloquently, and Annabeth laughed. She repeated the statement and then continued.
"I can't believe you're here." She shivered. Percy drew her close again, and her head rested on his chest. The relief that she felt was indescribable. How could one person have such a calming effect on her?
Percy took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Holding her felt incredible. She fit perfectly in his arms and he never wanted to let her go. "Me either."
Annabeth buried her face in his neck and traced her nose upwards as she said the next three words. They just slipped out really, as if she had been saying them her whole life. "I love you."
"And I love you." Percy didn't need to think about it. He loved her. That was for certain.
Someone coughed behind the couple, startling them out of their reverie. Annabeth reluctantly left Percy's embrace to kneel in front of the small boy who was now enveloped in a man's coat. Percy was overcome with amazement as Annabeth began to speak to him in French, checking out his injuries. She never ceased to surprise him. She threw him a soft smile when she noticed him staring at her. He couldn't help but grin back. They only had a short time to spend with each other, and he wanted to cherish every moment of it.
Due to their unplanned swim, the couple ventured to the hospital where Annabeth changed into her spare clothes and Percy borrowed some from an orderly who looked about his size. Neither of them were in their uniforms, but instead in street attire. They walked arm in arm up and down the Etaples roads, wandering and talking.
"How is Rachel?" Annabeth asked. She had made sure to ask about her health in their letters just to check on her healing process.
"She's good, I think." Percy replied, squeezing her hand. "She's working as an analyst now, helping the military predict when and where the next Central Powers attacks will be. I have no idea how she does it but she's bloody brilliant at it."
Annabeth bit her lip to stop herself from laughing at Percy's slang. His colloquialisms might be something she would never get used to. Rachel had an interesting job, though. Not that Annabeth was considering a career change. The intelligence community was something she wasn't sure she would want to be a part of.
Their day passed all too quickly and soon the sun began to sink towards the horizon. They were heading back toward the hospital when they approached a corner where a small crowd had gathered. The hum of a band got louder as they neared. There were several couples swaying to the music, just dancing in the street. The band itself consisted of locals with miscellaneous instruments, but they sounded well practiced. With a burst of impulsiveness, Percy pulled Annabeth into the steps of a dance.
She stumbled into his chest and laughed, "Where did you learn how to dance?"
"In my mother's kitchen." He replied. "Our neighbors had a radio that we could hear through the wall. There wasn't a lot of open space in the rest of the apartment."
Annabeth took a deep breath, just enjoying being close to him. She knew that Percy didn't like to talk about his childhood very often, so she wouldn't interrupt him if he continued. All she knew was that his biological father had died in the British Navy when he was young, and that his mother had remarried a terrible man a few years after that. Thankfully, that man was now out of their lives due to a divorce, even if it did mean judgement from society. Now, Sally had settled down with a teacher, Paul Blofis.
Percy gripped her tighter as they swayed in the street. "We didn't have a lot, growing up, but we made do. My mom worked so hard to provide for me."
Somehow Annabeth knew that was all he was going to say on the subject. She slid her hand up his shoulder and played with the unruly hair at the nape of his neck. Sally Jackson had raised a wonderful son, and she would be sure to thank her one day.
"I can't imagine it was easy to raise a child by—" Annabeth began to say.
"You mean you can't imagine I was an easy child to raise." Percy interrupted, a sheepish grin coming onto his face. She smiled back at him and answered, "You said it, not me…but yes, you're probably right."
With a laugh, Percy spun her around in a twirl, then pulled her close again. He seemed to get quiet as they swayed, getting lost in his own thoughts. Annabeth tilted her head to draw his attention, "Penny for your thoughts?"
Percy's ears turned red in a blush. He hoped she couldn't see how flushed he had gotten, due to the setting sun, but she saw it all the same. She made a confused face at him. He could see that she wanted him to answer. "Um, well…I, uh, was wondering what our child would be like…if we were to ever have children."
He felt himself blush even more now that he had said it out loud. How could he be thinking about that? They weren't even married yet. There was a war going on, for heaven's sake. This was a conversation that could wait a few years before taking place. He stewed in agony, not looking at Annabeth's face as he waited for her reaction. He was looking up at the sky when he felt a hand lowering his chin down to a level at which he would meet his dancing partner's eyes.
She was just smiling at him.
He breathed a slow sigh of relief. He hadn't messed up like he thought he had. Without a word, Annabeth had reassured him that she didn't think his idea was stupid. That she had thought about it too. She leaned in closer, and the two kissed again, not a care in the world except for each other.
It was easy, in these moments, to forget the rest of the world; to forget the war. Both of them wished it was over now, if just so that they could stay together longer. They broke apart and Annabeth laid her head on Percy's shoulder, simultaneously feeling the same thing: this was right.
And though they knew that their time together was almost at an end, that thought was accompanied by the fact that they knew they would meet again. Until then…the world soldiered on.