A/N: It has come to my attention that not everyone knows the history of WWI so here is a very quick over view of the war. If you are uninterested or already know your history I apologize but I felt it necessary to go over the facts.

-July of 1914 WWI starts however it is several months before fighting actually started
-The first two countries involved were Austria-Hungary and Serbia. Russia, France, and UK backed Serbia while Germany and the Ottoman Empire backed Austria-Hungary
-April of 1917 The United States enters the war however troops do not arrive in France until July of that year
-December 1917 Russia signs a peace treaty with Germany
-March 1918 Russia officialy leaves war
-March 21 1918 Spring Offensive starts
-6 am November 11 1918 Germany signs Armistice

It is important to note that the US did not get involved in the fighting until JULY 1917 but we did not start a campaign until MARCH 1918. The second important note is that Germany DID NOT SURRENDER. They signed an armistice meaning both sides agreed to stop shooting at a designated time. Major battles were fought as late as November 4th and officers were giving orders to attack enemy lines until 11 AM on November 11th.

Thanks for dealing with the history spam, I hope you like the chapter!

Her legs slid over the sheets. The soft folds and clots rising up to press against her skin. The ripples shifted like the waves of the ocean and her movements were ghosts caught beneath the shifting veil.

She lifted her chest and drew in the scent of her hair as it fanned across her face in pile of unspooled gold thread. It was lemon and warmth, the feeling of the sun on her skins and a soft touch of wind, and just there, somewhere in the locks and curls that soft scent of ocean air.

She pushed her hair away and adjusted to the soft glow of gas lamps that attempted to intrude upon the dark of the sleeping city. The light did little more then to tint that inky blackness to an ugly and shallow grey.

Annabeth ran her eyes across everything she could make out in that soft light, roamed every detail and remembered those too deep within the shroud for her to pick out. She filled her mind with the details of the room, its objects, the way the light shifted with the rotation of their tiny ball of dirt. Anything but that folded piece of paper on her desk. Anything but those erratic scratches, from the lines arbitrarily chosen to mean so much. Lines of colored ink and graphite, such little things that could carry with them the oppressing weight that could rival the deepest of depths.

All stemming from some foolish boy that had inflicted this strain upon her. A boy she wished so deeply could at least be present in the same country if he was to tear from her a resemblance of normality and cohesion.

When he had spoken those ill fated words to her this is not what she had thought would come of her. To be another stricken woman waiting for a man gone off to war. She was not a doting female to stand by and be a fool while others did what they thought she could not handle.

She was far stronger than that.

Yet that simple boy and his simple letter had struck her deeply. He thought it was interesting news, she saw it as graven words.

They were deploying to the front, they would take part in the spring campaign.

In the dark she found her lamp and lit it, pulled the letter open and once again scrutinized its contents.

May 28th 1918

Dear Annabeth,

It has only been a week but I knew you would not forgive me if I didn't write you and let you know that we are moving out. We will be apart of the spring campaign and should receive orders soon.

No one knows for sure where we are going, Lieutenant Grace admitted that he wont know until it is time for us to start the move. I do know that we are one of several units that will be taking part in the attacks. The French are eager to press the Germans back and get them out of their country.

The rest of us just want to know what is happening. Curiosity is getting the best of us and it is getting under my skin. We've been waiting too long and need to be doing something. Need to know what is happening.

I'm trying to get my squad into order and make sure they have everything and will be ready when the orders come through. It feels good to have something to do everyday. I'm glad we are getting orders, it's better than sitting here listening to German artillery all day.

My only concern is that we will be moving around too much and be too busy getting prepared for the operation that I won't be able to write home again. I hope you would do me a favor and tell my mother I say hi. Let her know what is going on and tell her I will try and write as soon as I can. Tell her I miss her too, please.

I have to get back to my men. Wish me luck in the fight.

I got your letter today, thanks for the picture. Though it's made the others start asking if I have a girl back home. Hope you're happy.

Yours,

Percy

Annabeth pressed the letter flat against her desk. She had kept it perfect, no smudges, no wrinkles, no crumpled edges. She would keep it like that, keep it safe. She raked her eyes over the messy hand writing one last time before crisply folding the letter back up and placing it back in the envelope.

While he may have seen it as an end to boredom she was not as pleased with the new information. He would be part of an attack. He would be in the thick of fighting, he would be shot at. Other men would be trying to hurt him, to kill him. And he acted like it was an opportunity. A break from monotony.

The frustration made its way out as a gritted sigh of discontent. It was too short a letter with too little information. One line, one single sentence was all he made of the picture she had sent him. While his response had not been what her fleeting dreams had imagined it was far better than the worst of the ideas that had come to mind in the time she had sent the letter. A week she had examined and pondered, fretted and worried. All for him to tell her that he hoped she was happy he was catching chaff from his fellow soldiers. He couldn't give her a simple thank you? He couldn't have at least realized that she had done something kind for him, that she had gone out of her way for him. Annabeth feared he was too dense to understand what was going on around him at times. He couldn't even write her a proper letter. Something that had a sentence that resembled 'how are you?' Something that was even approaching common courtesy.

No. She realized this was not about what was contained in the letter. It wasn't about the news of an offensive, everyone knew it was bound to happen. It also didn't hinder on the fact that he would be going into combat, she was not too blind to think that would never happen. It was about everything else that was left out of the letter, not the words or the physical presence of writing.

It was the lack of meaning.

He had written her because he was afraid of what she would do lest she found out he had not been keeping her informed. While that was sweet that he had a respectful fear of her she wanted genuine fear.

Fear that he was leaving her, that he was hurting her. That he had hurt her. Fear of spending time away from her.

She wanted emotion in the letter. Reciprocation of these emotions that kept her awake into the hours of the night. Nights that should be spent dreaming of their days together. More than anything this is what she wished had been in the letter. Some sort of understanding on his part of what that picture really meant.

"No, Percy. I'm not happy. Because you didn't tell them yes, you didn't show it to everyone and claim me as your sweet heart. Because you're not here."

She pushed the envelope and lined the long end up with the edge of her desk closest to her bed and crawled back beneath the sheets.

She stared at that sliver of paper until drowsiness pulled her eyes closed and dragged her to sleep.

A/N: Please leave a review and let me know what you think, I'd really appreciate it!