34. Dad
Beth POV
Hundred More Years by Francesca Battistelli
I was glad to find Deacon's note in the Railroad's old HQ yesterday. It made me feel better—gave me a better idea on how he felt when writing it. Just the fact that he called me Bethany and was making jokes told me he wasn't angry with me anymore—to which I was very relieved.
I'm reading it again while waiting for my food to finish cooking when Robert walks into the kitchen, having just woken up. He sees what I'm doing and asks, "Again? You've been eating fried Cram everyday for the past month, I swear." I just shrug as he sits down at the bar. "You never even cared for the stuff before—said you hated it."
"Well, not anymore. It always sounds good to me now." I transfer the fried blob of "food" that is my breakfast onto a plate and sit at the bar by him, digging in.
"So… I know it's a little late, considering we got married two and a half weeks ago, but… I have something for you," he starts. "It's upstairs. Can I show you when you're done?"
"Sure," I say around a bite. "Want some?" It didn't even go through my mind to make him any.
"Uh… no, thanks." He wrinkles his nose after just looking at it, making me laugh.
"It's not that bad." I stand and move my now empty plate into the sink. "But, I think I should lay off it a bit. Think I'm starting to gain weight." I indicate my now full stomach.
Robert chuckles as he stands, coming over to kiss my forehead. "You look fine, dear." He starts to rummage around the fridge, finding something to eat—however, I don't know what he grabs, as I'm too busy running up the stairs and into the bathroom.
He must've been not too far behind me, as he now stands beside me, holding my hair as I violently vomit into the toilet. Just a couple retches, and the job is done. I point to a rag and he retrieves it, his face concerned as he hands it over. "What was that about?" he asks.
"I don't know. Might have been a bad can," I respond as I flush the contents of the entire can of Cram I had just consumed. "At least I feel better." I stand and rinse my mouth in the sink before turning to him. "Sorry. You wanted to show me something?"
He still looks concerned, but slightly more enthusiastic as he takes my hand and leads me into our room. "Ta da!" he says, extending his arms out toward the thing like a showcase rep.
On our bed now lies—not the old worn out blanket like when I woke up—but a horrid yellow comforter, smoothed out and made up nice. I hadn't even noticed it lying on the bed during my frantic trip into the bathroom. I think about the comforter Nate's parents bought for us, and how upset I was when I saw it was gone back in Sanctuary. Did he remember that?
"What do you think?" Robert asks me, pulling me from my thoughts. "Does it look like the one you and Nate had before?"
I wipe the single tear from my eye and I step forward and hug him. "It's just like it. I love it—so much. Thank you." I release him and sit on the edge of the bed, feeling the material, and marveling at how soft it is, over two centuries later. "Where did you find this?" I ask him, looking up to him as he sits next to me.
"Fallon's. I saw it, remembered you talking about it back in Sanctuary, and swiped it. I'm just glad you didn't notice," he chuckles.
"Fallon's, huh?" I chuckle myself. "Looks like we both 'swiped' something for wedding gifts, then." I stand and move to the bureau, where I'd stashed my own present. Bringing it back to him, he gawks at it. "You keep winding your watch, so I took it was broken or something." He takes off his old watch, and replaces it with the new one.
"I love it." He leans over and gives me a kiss, long and loving, until we fall backward onto the bed, enveloped in each other's embrace. …Until Duncan walks in.
"Hey, Dad! Oh… Sorry." He walks back out, having seen us more intimate than he'd prefer.
I laugh as Robert gets up, chasing after the boy. "What is it, bud?" I hear him ask.
"Danse is gone!"
"What?" What?! I think as I'm on the move, into the hallway.
"Shaun and I were playing near his house when we thought we'd go visit him. But he's not there."
The three of us headed north immediately, Shaun in tow, to investigate our missing friend. Robert checked for the boat while I looked around his house.
"The boat's gone," he says as he comes in the house.
"There aren't any notes or anything," I tell him. "I checked with Curie. She said she hasn't seen him in a few hours."
The four of us continue to stand in his house, wondering where the ex-Paladin could have gone, when Shaun says, "I'm worried for him, Mom. He told me he hasn't left the island since he got here after being exiled. What if a Brotherhood patrol finds him?" He looks up at me, worry clearly marked on his features.
"I'm sure he can handle himself, Shaun. He probably just went for a boat ride or something. He's bound to be feeling cooped up right about now." I see Robert looking at me from the corner of my eye. Although Shaun seems to have believed it, he knows me too well—he knows I'm worried to death on the inside. He decides to get our sons away from me before I blow.
"Hey, boys? How about you go help Curie in the garden for now? I know she'd love to have you with her. And that way time will pass quicker, so Danse will seem to be here faster."
Duncan agrees fully. "Okay. Come on, Shaun! I bet she'll let us eat a tato root!" The former grabs the latter's hand and they take off, leaving Robert and I in Danse's house alone. He looks to me again.
"Beth, I'm sure he's fine. He's a grown man."
"But what if a Brotherhood patrol finds him? Maxson said they wouldn't hesitate to shoot him—to kill him. I don't think I could handle losing him, Robert. He's the closest thing to a friend I have out here, now that Deacon went who-knows-where." I realize I'm near tears—something my body typically reserves for very trying times, not just for the chance my friend could be in danger.
"I'm sure he'll be fine," he repeats.
Being as stubborn as I am, I decide to take a seat on the couch and wait. "I'm not moving."
He sighs. "I'll take the rowboat out and see if he's around here, okay? So, don't you dare move," he says sarcastically as he leaves the room.
It seems like forever, just sitting here and waiting like this. But what else can I do? He didn't leave a note, he didn't tell anybody where he was going or what he was planning on doing. There is nothing I can do but sit and wait for him to come back. Maybe.
I hear a motor in the distance. Popping up off the couch in a hurry, I glance out the window and see a boat—our boat—pulling into the boathouse. I run out of his house and onto the deck by the boat in what seems to be a matter of seconds. And there—walking out of the cabin in some X-01 power armour—is Danse.
"Hey!" he greets. "Look what I found. It's in good condition, too. Hey, now!" He pretends to rub his arm where I struck him with my fist, as I'd moved onto the boat with him. "What was that for?"
"For not telling a soul where you were going! You had us all worried!" I feel the tears return, lining my lids in a blanket, threatening to escape. "I thought you were going to be hunted down by Maxson or something."
He ejects out of the power armour and comes closer to me. "What? You know I wouldn't go near anyone in the Brotherhood. I just went to the site where we find your house materials." He points behind him to a stack of wood, boxes of nails, and the like. "I thought the boys would like a treehouse or something." I snap my neck up at him.
"So, you went to find that stuff, and didn't want to tell anyone where you were going?" I can feel the lining of tears growing hotter—no longer sad, but on the angry side.
"You guys don't always tell me where you're going. Just because you have Robert with you doesn't mean I worry about you less. I know you can handle yourself, but still…" He looks at the floor of the boat. "I worry, too." Although Danse had never struck me as the affectionate type—and I can count the times we'd hugged on one hand—I find I don't care at the moment and step forward, wrapping my arms around him.
Robert had come home maybe an hour after Danse came back in the boat. He was almost as upset as I was he hadn't told us—okay, maybe not nearly as upset.
We all moved the building materials near the front of our house, where it was planned the treehouse would be erected, in the cluster of trees about thirty or forty feet from the front door. About four days later, Shaun and Duncan proudly raised the "official" flag of their treehouse—an old Jangles the Moon Monkey blanket—signifying the building process was one of the past.
"They're going to love their 'Uncle' Danse for the rest of time now," I laugh as Robert and I lounge around in bed, too lazy to do anything yet this morning.
"They already do," he chuckles. "It's just gonna be an unbreakable bond now." He goes to get up. "Want some breakfast?"
"You know I'm always hungry." I wrap the yellow comforter around my shoulders, not ready to get up and relishing in the warmth.
"Yeah. What happened, eh? Used to be the other way around." He comes over and sits on my side of the bed, changing out of his pajama pants into some jeans. "Wanna try something else besides Cram, babe? You eat that stuff like there's no tomorrow."
"You know I like Cram for breakfast anymore. Just get used to it." I crawl out from under the warm comforter, changing into some day clothes myself before walking into the bathroom.
"I've told you, Beth!" he calls to me. "You need to stop drinking that much water before bed." I finish up my business and walk back out to see him smiling. "Or just that much water period. Isn't water poisoning a thing? Not even including rads?"
I chuckle. "Yes. But I'm pretty sure I'm not poisoned. I pee a lot more than I drink, so go figure." I walk out of the room, ahead of him. "C'mon! I'm starving."
It's been about a week since the boys' treehouse was built. They've practically lived in the thing ever since their fort's flag went up. And I've done next to nothing myself. I haven't gone to the airport to see if the Brotherhood needs me to do anything, I haven't been back to Diamond City. Shoot, I'm not even sure when I left the house last. I just haven't felt like doing anything. So, here I am, sitting on a lounger I'd built and placed on the roof of our house, reading my third book this week. I occasionally peer down to watch my boys play baseball on the ground.
"Nice catch, Shaun," I hear Robert say.
"Thanks, Dad."
A few weeks ago, Shaun had accidentally called him "Dad," and although it threw Robert for a small loop, he loved it right away, accepting the new title and taking it in stride. He instantly felt closer to the young boy. It was adorable, to be honest.
As I turn the page of today's read, I feel something weird. Almost like my stomach gurgling, but much lower. I feel it again as I set my book aside. Standing to head inside, I feel a small bout of nausea. I've had this feeling before…
I run down the large staircase we'd built leading to the roof and inside, bounding up the stairs and charge into the bathroom. But the nausea is gone once I reach the toilet. I look around for a mirror, which I'd yet to find on this side of the War after coming out of Vault 111. Dammit. I hear another pair of feet running in the house, going up the steps and coming into the bathroom also.
"Beth?" Robert asks. "Are you okay? I saw you take off like a bat out of hell…" I look up to his face, my thoughts traveling at a million miles an hour—running over the last few weeks. The last month and a half actually. "Beth, what's going on?" He stares in confusion at my crumpled face, clearly showing my puzzlement. "Are you okay?" he asks again, taking another step towards me. With my brows still knitted, I nod, to which he exhales in relief—but his confused expression remains. "Beth." It's not a question—he's telling me I need to answer him, to say something.
"I'm… confused?" I manage as I walk to the bed, him on my tail. I sit down with him next to me. I take a deep breath, then it all becomes clear. I gasp.
"Beth, you need to tell me what's going on right now before I have a heart attack." His features still wear their muddled expression, although concern is fighting hard to replace it.
I turn toward him more, looking him in the eye. "Craving a food I've always hated, needing to pee all the time, the lethargy, the near-constant nausea, being moody—hell, I damn near cried because Danse went to get the boys materials for a treehouse." I think back even further. "Jumping down Deacon's throat for a stupid reason…"
I can see it—the look in Robert's eyes tells me he knows what I'm getting at. He looks down past the Nuka-World logo on my t-shirt—to where I could have sworn I've been gaining weight. It's now his turn for his face to fold in bewilderment. He reaches a few inches toward me, but stops himself, and draws his hand back. I take his hand and place it on my stomach, my hand right next to his.
"I think I'm pregnant," I tell him. Right after saying this, I feel that flutter feeling I felt on the roof. Robert's eyes go wide, his entire face molded into utter surprise as he looks at me. I smile at him, feeling the waterworks coming.
MacCready POV
With Arms Wide Open by Creed
One second, Beth is on the roof, reading her book—the next, she's up and running down the stairs. "Be right back," I tell Duncan and Shaun as I toss them the ball, drop my mitt, and run into the house after her. I hear a dry heave in the bathroom and run to her as soon as possible. "Beth? Are you okay?" I ask her. "I saw you take off like a bat out of hell…" My words trail off as I see her expression—that of one immensely confused. She gazes up at me, looking almost worried. "Beth, what's going on?" Her expression hasn't shifted a single inch, her silence persists. "Are you okay?" I ask her again, wanting to know if something is wrong, and subconsciously taking a step toward her. The perplexed look continues through her nod. I sigh in relief, happy to know she's okay. But why is she still looking like something is wrong, off? "Beth," I say, letting her know this is not okay, that I need some kind of answer.
"I'm… confused?" She leaves the room and walks to the bed, sitting down on the edge. I'm right beside her, not about to let her go that easily.
"Beth, you need to tell me what's going on right now before I have a heart attack," I say as I feel my chest tighten in anxiety. Although I'm still unclear on what's happening, I'm starting to become more concerned for her than anything.
She turns to face me more head on, looking directly at me. "Craving a food I've always hated, needing to pee all the time, the lethargy, the near-constant nausea, being moody—hell, I damn near cried because Danse went to get the boys materials for a treehouse. Jumping down Deacon's throat for a stupid reason…" She glances down at the small space between us, to the comforter I gave her a week and a half ago.
I'm starting to connect all the dots as she looks back up, meeting my eyes once more. I can't help myself from gawking down at her belly, and even reaching toward it. But I stop myself—I'm not sure why. Because I'm afraid it's true, because I'll upset her? Either way, it doesn't matter as she grabs my hand and places it on her abdomen—her own hand touching mine as it sits alongside it.
"I think I'm pregnant." Not two seconds after she utters those four simple words—said by countless women for millennia—I feel something move inside her. I know my face is bound to portray how I feel—extremely stupefied—but I couldn't care less. She smiles at me, tears lining her ducts.
I lean forward and bring her to me, hugging her with so much enthusiasm—which she was not expecting from the sound of her laugh. I start to feel wetness seeping into my shirt as tears starts to leak from my own eyes. Leaning back, I see her beautiful smile again, letting me know it'll all be okay. I take the hem of my shirt and wipe away the few tears before they can dribble down my cheeks. All the while, there's been a smile on my face, too.
"You're pregnant," I say, the words coming out in a breath of air, almost sounding like a laugh—a giddy laugh. "But… How is this possible? I mean, that conversation we had a little while back…"
She nods. "I know. I don't have a clue either. But…" She looks down to the focal point of the past several minutes. "I've been pregnant before and… it was like this—just like this. I don't know how, but apparently, it happened. This is happening." She smiles again as I lean in and give her a kiss.
Beth and I called Curie for a house visit while the boys were still playing outside. She arrived and is now about to check Beth as she lies on her back on our bed.
"Oh, this is exciting," she says in her accent I've yet to get used to. "I've never examined a patient before."
"You've saved my life," Beth replies. "Does that not count?"
"That was not an examination—this is an examination. What is it you are wanting me to look at?" Curie asks. Beth raises her t-shirt, revealing what she had thought was extra weight this whole time—I now look at the perfectly shaped bump in a different light, grinning about it.
"This," Beth points to the growing baby. "I'm pretty sure I'm pregnant—and I want to know if it's okay, and maybe how far I am."
"You are expecting!" Curie says, excitedly looking at Beth and myself. "Oh, how wonderful—congratulations!"
"Thanks," I tell her.
It took Curie a painfully long time to actually start looking at Beth. I understood she was happy for us, and for "the opportunity to see a fetus grow," as she put it, but I was glad she finally got around to the examination part of her house call.
She'd asked if Beth was having any swelling, hot flashes—the norm for an expectant mother. She felt her tummy, asking if the applied pressure made her uncomfortable—Beth could tell this was making me a little upset, but she calmed me down rather quickly when she put her hand on mine. Finally, Curie came to the end of her visit.
"I am no midwife, madame—but, I am knowledgeable enough to tell you that your pregnancy is going well so far. I would say that you are around twelve weeks."
"Twelve?" I spit out. "How could we have not known for twelve weeks?"
"There are records of women delivering, having not known about their pregnancies to begin with. They just suddenly had a baby." I can't even fathom that…
"That probably would've happened to us, babe," Beth jokes, "if the baby hadn't started kicking earlier." I chuckle with her. She looks back to the synth woman. "Thanks, Curie. I appreciate it."
"It was no problem, madame! Thank you—for letting me see something so miraculous first-hand." She grabs her lab coat we'd given her and leaves the room.
Although I'm ecstatic, I feel overwhelmed, nervous. What if the pregnancy doesn't go well? Has she drank too much, been exposed to too much radiation? What about afterwards? I think we're good parents cause we already have Duncan and Shaun. But what if this one doesn't go as well? …How are the boys gonna take it?
"Robert." I look to Beth, who hasn't moved since Curie left. "If you don't stop frowning, it's going to be etched into your skin for the rest of your life." I loosen the wrinkles in my face, replacing them with a smile. "It's going to be okay, babe," she continues. "You're going to be okay."
"It's not me I'm worried about so much," I tell her. "What if you get hurt? What if the baby's not normal? What if—?"
She cuts me off. "Everything's going to be okay. 'Worrying does not take away tomorrow's troubles—it takes away today's peace.' I read that in a book once." She smiles at me. "So, stop worrying. Okay?"
I sigh. "Okay."