37. The Trip
Beth POV
We'll Meet Again by The Ink Spots
Robert and Duncan took off this morning to head to the Capital Wasteland. They still have some things there near Arefu that they've been wanting to pick up. So, I called in a few favours I had with the Brotherhood and got them roundtrip airfare to and from DC. He was dead set on keeping the boat here anyway, in case I needed to go somewhere. And no matter how much I told him I doubted I'd even leave the house—and doubted leaving the island even more so—he insisted.
So, now it's just Shaun and myself. Robert promised me they'd be back before Duncan's birthday—he knows how important it is to me, him being here for his first birthday with him in my life. That gives them a little over two weeks.
And even though he couldn't do anything—even if he had to—it makes me nervous, his being gone while I'm pregnant. Fretting thoughts keep nagging the back of my mind: What if something happens to him or Duncan while they're gone? What if something happens to the baby while they're gone? Or what if a random group of Raiders or super mutants somehow get on the island? How are me and Shaun supposed to fend them off? Of course, I know Danse is here, and wouldn't dare let anything bad happen on his watch—but still, I worry.
"Mom, you know what Dad would say?" Shaun grabs my attention as he walks into the living room where I sit.
"What would Dad say?" I ask back, setting down my cup of coffee.
"He'd tell you to stop frowning before it's set there permanently." He shows me a lopsided grin, happy he's noticed such a small thing between his parents. And, I have to admit, I'm impressed, too.
"It's been all of… three months," I calculate quickly, "and how many times have you had to hear that to remember it?" He chuckles quietly and sits next to me—the same armchair Danse sat in when he first arrived here. Shaun looks far more suited for the piece of furniture—what with his being much smaller, and appearing not so big as to break the friggin' thing.
"What've you got there?" I ask him, seeing some kind of reading material.
He holds out a magazine. "A copy of Tesla Science."
"Why on earth are you reading that? Seems like an eleven-year-old would rather read Grognak or something like that," I say as I look at him funny.
He just chuckles. "Being raised in the Institute—I can't help it. Everybody around me was always interested in science stuff, so I got into it a little bit myself. When I was able…"
"What do you mean, 'when you were able?'" He sets his read down.
"Most of the time, they had me in a room in Advanced Systems. You ever go into that department on one of your trips down there?" I nod my head. "You ever see a room with a bed, table, chair, and had glass walls?" I nod again. "That was my room." He sighs and looks down a little bit. "I rarely got to leave or do anything. Most of the time they were doing other stuff, or studying me. They swiped my memory, from the sounds of things, so I shouldn't remember as much as I do—but I still remember some, despite them not wanting me to.
"I remember Dr. Li talking with Father about emotional stimuli? I think." He looks confused, then resumes. "I also remember Dr. Filmore coming to visit a couple times. She was nice." He sighs again, knowing she's gone now.
"Did they… do anything to you?" I ask. "Like, experiments?"
"Yes." He glances up. "I don't remember a lot of them, but what I do…" He looks back down. "I don't want to talk about it right now. I'm sorry."
"Do not be sorry, Shaun. None of that—none of this—is your fault. You have no reason to be apologizing. If anyone… it should be me. I was the one that let all this happen in the first place." Although, at the time, it felt like I couldn't do anything, I still feel guilty. Nate had called it "survivor's guilt" in the past. He said many soldiers who had fought alongside him would feel guilt after being one of—if not, the—only surviving member of their squad. Shaun cuts into my thoughts.
"Mom, none of this was on you. I know my dad did everything he could to save me—well, Father anyway. But still. You couldn't do anything from that pod you were in. So, don't blame yourself, okay?" Since we're within touching distance of each other, he reaches over and puts his hand on my arm. "I just want you to know that I still love you." He smiles at me, encouraging me to leave it where it is: in the past.
It's been a week since my husband and son has left. A small part of me wonders why they're still gone, but most of me—the logical side of me—tells me to relax. They're probably taking their time, gathering their things, saying goodbye to their home of who knows how long. Maybe they even stopped by to see Kate and them. I find that this thought makes me happy, and I can't wait to hear their stories from the trip.
At the moment, I sit on Danse's couch, with Shaun next to me, watching the former clean his laser rifle while talking about whatever. But, naturally, with my twenty-one-week pregnant belly, Danse is curious and has questions—which Shaun is soaking up like a sponge.
"So, what's it like—having something so rapidly expanding inside you?" From the sounds of things, not very many Brotherhood soldiers had children until they were retired from duty or whatnot. So, I can understand his curiosity.
"It's a trip," I tell him with a chuckle. "I can feel him moving all the time, so I know he's gonna be an active kid." I look to my eleven-year-old. "Just like this one—he moved constantly, and loved to keep his elbow in my ribs." I chuckle again. "At least this one lets me breathe better."
"'He,'" Danse says with a grin. "So, you're still thinking it's a boy. Robert still planning on it being a girl?"
"Ugh. Yes," I sigh, making him laugh. Laughing myself, "It's fine. I'll just hate to see his disappointment when D-Day comes and he's wrong." I chuckle again, thinking of my preposition a few weeks ago. "I have so much faith in these motherly instincts, that I told him if he is actually a she, he can name her."
His grin fades slightly. "Do you trust him with the whole naming thing? I mean, what if he names her something dumb just to prove a point?"
"Well, if he does get to name a her, then I told him it's his thing. But, to be honest here, I'm pretty sure if it is a girl, he'll name her something nice." I think about what we talked about the night of my proposing the naming offer. "He's really into this. Like, most dads are like, 'meh.' But not him—he's super excited, I can tell. It makes me happy, knowing he's looking forward to an addition. Cause two apparently wasn't enough." I pat Shaun's knee.
Another week has gone by—closer to a week and a half actually. It's now the twenty-third of August—one day before Duncan's birthday. Robert knew I wanted them here for the celebration, but they're still gone, and my mind has all but gone berserk. Shaun continues to assure me that they're fine, and that they'll be back soon—but me, being a worrywart, it doesn't help that much. Through the past two and a half weeks, I've tried to keep a normal schedule—occupying myself with cooking, cleaning, laundry, and the like. Otherwise, I would have gone crazy with anxiety.
Although Shaun is a little big to be tucked into bed or read bedtime stories, we both have really enjoyed it while Robert and Duncan have been gone—it's helped us tons in the bonding department.
"It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee—
With a love that the winged seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me."
"Mom?"
"Yes, Shaun?" I drop the book out of my face to see his own confused expression.
"Why did Dad leave his Poe collection here? I thought he would have taken it with him."
"I'm not sure," I answer honestly. "Maybe it's because he wouldn't have had time to read it, or maybe he knew in the back of his head that I'd want to while he was gone." I shrug and lift the book back up, hopefully just in time.
But, no. He saw before I could continue the work. "Mom, why are you crying? Is this poem sad?"
I set the book down—it lying flat due to the spine being so worn out. Even if it closed, I could easily find Annabel Lee again, since Robert had dog-eared the page a while back—it being one of his favourites.
"Yes," I tell him. "The speaker and his love—Annabel Lee—were separated far too soon. They loved each other very much, but she died suddenly, and it broke his heart." I sniffle.
Even though Shaun hasn't had nearly the same amount of time as Robert has to get to know me, he can still tell that that isn't all of my reasoning. "You miss Dad," he says—simply a statement, not a question.
"I miss Dad a lot," I confess. "We haven't been apart this long—ever. And I haven't been able to handle it that well. I'm sorry, Shaun." I wipe my nose of the sleeve of my pajama top.
Although he looks really comfortable, he climbs out from under his blankets and wraps his arms around me. "They'll be home soon. Just you see, Mom—everything will be okay."
I went to bed a few hours ago, but I haven't been able to sleep much. Which pretty much sums up the past fortnight: sleepless. With Shaun's room being across the hall and down a bit, I can hear his snores, light and quiet, but present all the same. At least he can rest, I think with gratitude. He needs all the rest he can get at his age.
I roll over onto my left side, facing the door into the bedroom, and casually throw my leg over the side of the bed. A part of my sleep deprivation may have a bit to do with my being around twenty-four-weeks now. Since the baby boy inside me continues to grow, I've learned to stop sleeping on my stomach—although, I really miss it. So, I try my best to kinda sleep on my stomach, but it sort of ends up being mostly on my side.
I hear a rustle come from the other side of the hall, and figure Shaun woke up to get a drink of water or something. At around the same time, I feel a sudden wave of near exhaustion, and close my eyes, drifting lightly into unconsciousness. However, seemingly seconds later, I feel the other side of the bed—the side where Robert sleeps, and I'm currently facing away from—move. It was just a little bit, but despite my fatigue, I'm pretty sure I didn't make it up in my head.
Ever since they took off to DC, I've been sleeping with a switchblade under my pillow—just in case. Since my hand is close to my pillow already, I move it slowly and carefully—with as much stealth as possible—and grab the handle of it, preparing to press the button at a moment's notice.
Is this it? I think. Did Raiders finally figure out we're out here? I think about the time Robert told me he was surprised I hadn't been raped or murdered before we met. Is it finally happening? I grip the handle tighter, still pretending to be asleep. I feel an arm wrap around me and decide it's time to act.
I press the button of the switchblade, popping the knife out, and whip around as fast as a pregnant woman can. Whoever—or whatever—is behind me gets the blade stuck in their arm, causing them to cry out. Only then, do I understand what's going on.
"What the hell, Beth?!" Robert yells, as I turn the light of my Pip-Boy on, illuminating his face, contorted in pain due to the blade sticking out of his bicep.
"Oh, my God! I'm so sorry!" I jump up—or at least try to without falling over—and dash into the bathroom, grabbing a Stimpak and some gauze out of the first aid kit. Sitting next to him on the bed, I get ready to pull out the knife and inject the Stimpak within seconds of each other. After the bloody switchblade is laying on some of the gauze on the bed, and the Stimpak is used, I wrap his arm with some of the bandaging—to reduce the bleeding as much as possible while the miracle injection does its job.
After a minute, my heart has finally calmed down enough to speak. "What are you doing here?"
He looks up at me from his arm. "Uh, I live here?"
"No, really?" I sigh, thinking sarcasm isn't the best way to communicate right now. "I meant, why did you get home this late?"
"I needed to be back with Duncan before morning, or you'd have my head," he chuckles. "I didn't forget." He looks down to baby MacCready, noticing my rubbing him. "She get pretty excited from all that?"
"Yeah," I say as I try to smooth out the last kick, rubbing small circles over him, trying to calm him down.
"I'm sorry," he tells me. Coming closer to him, he apologizes again. "I'm sorry your mom scared you, baby girl. I'll try to calm her down, okay?" He kisses my stomach, then stretches up to give me a kiss. "Let's try that again." He grins. "Honey, I'm home."
I chuckle, trying to be quiet as I remember Shaun across the hall. "Is Duncan asleep?" I ask.
"I put him to bed before you stabbed me, so he should be. Unless you woke them both up just now." I give him a dirty look. "What? That's the truth: you just stabbed me, Beth." I take the gauze off to reveal an angry, small pink line—the only evidence from the little "accident."
"I know…" I stand and throw the used Stimpak and gauze away in the bathroom. "Sorry about that. A little paranoid from lack of sleep, I guess."
He looks concerned. "Why have you not been sleeping?"
I point to the baby. "Him. And the fact I had no way to know you were okay. Kinda had me freaked out. Just ask Shaun—he saw."
His concerned face turns to one of sympathy, guilt even. "I didn't think it'd be that rough on you." He stands and changes into his pajamas as I move to my own side again.
"I didn't think so, either. But it was. At least it's over now." He climbs back onto the bed, settling down and motioning for me to come to him. I scoot over, resting my head in the crook of his arm—where I've missed being for so long, too long. "I love you," I tell him.
"I love you, too." He kisses the top of my head and situates the comforter on top of us. "Now, get some rest, okay?" I close my eyes and pass out within seconds, knowing he's finally home.
"You know, I was surprised when you told me you haven't been sleeping well," Robert tells me over breakfast. "Before we left, you were sleeping really hard."
"No, I wasn't," I scoff.
"Oh, yeah? I'm pretty sure a Vertibird could have crashed on the roof, and you'd sleep right through it." He chuckles, "Like a rock, Beth."
"Uh-huh." I grab our plates and take them to the sink to wash later.
"You know what?" he asks as he stands and moves over to the sink, beginning to wash our dishes for me. "She sure has grown in the past two weeks."
"He sure has," I correct. "But, it's been closer to three than two. What'd you guys do that took so long?"
He chuckles. "Duncan's probably the one to tell it. Duncan!" he calls, loud enough for the boy to hear from upstairs. A little bit later, we hear the sound of both his and Shaun's feet running down the hallway and jumping off the stairs.
"What?" As suspected, Shaun is right on Duncan's tail. They've been together all morning. They must've really missed each other.
Their dad stops his dish washing and looks to Duncan for a bit. "Tell Mom and Shaun what we did in DC."
The boy gets an excited look in his eyes, and from his expression, I can tell he's about to launch into an elaborate story. As he clears his throat, I sit down at the dining room table—which actually turned out to be a good size after all. Not too big like I was thinking.
"So, we went to Rivet City, then Megaton, then Arefu," he starts. "In Rivet City, we talked with Chief Harkness for a little while, and we told him what you did with the Institute—"
"He said thanks, by the way," Robert cuts in as he sits in the chair next to me. This earns an annoyed look from his son, but then he just continues.
"Cause he's a synth, he really appreciated it. And then we ate some food at Gary's… art place. Um… Gallery! That's it."
"You mean Gary's Galley?" Robert laughs.
"Same thing!" Duncan sighs and moves on. "Then we went to Megaton and saw Kate and Ellis and Butch, and stayed there for a few nights. I was so happy to see them."
"They were happy to see you, too, bud."
"Dad, stop interrupting!" Everyone—minus the annoyed child—laughs at his expression. "Anyway, like I said, we stayed in Megaton for a few days, which was nice. Then, we went back home." He thinks for a second. "Well… what used to be home, cause we live here now—so this is home. Anyway, we got all our stuff that we could carry, and threw some of the stuff out that we didn't want anymore. We thanked the people that live in Arefu for being nice neighbors to us all those years, then pretty much came back here." He smiles at us, proud of his storytelling.
"Thanks for telling them for me, Duncan." Robert hugs the boy and ushers he and Shaun into the living room. "Now give us some space if you boys want cake tonight." They look excited and run back up the stairs, ready to resume whatever they were doing before.
"Happy Birthday, Duncan!" everybody says in sync. Danse, Curie, Shaun, Robert, and myself are all gathered around the kitchen island, looking down to the little boy who is thinking about his wish before blowing out the candles.
By candles, I literally mean candles—or one candle actually. We'd stuck a single, normal sized candle—used for lighting rooms and whatnot—on top of the cake. Duncan finishes his wish and blows out said candle, smiling at everyone as we all cheer for him.
"I can't believe you're six," I tell him as I slice cake for everyone.
"I know. I'm starting to feel old." He takes his plate of cake and walks off, missing the ginormous smile on my face caused by his comment.
As Danse grabs his own piece, he accuses, "You're going to make me lose my edge, Beth—with all this cake you've been making, I'm bound to start gaining." Despite his complaint, he takes his own plate and joins the birthday boy at the dining room table.
I hadn't seen much of Curie since the last birthday party we had a month ago, so when she comes up to me, instead of taking a plate of the cake I tried my best to match chocolate flavour, she asks me all sorts of questions like: how's the baby, am I having any complications, does coitus hurt more than before? She got a strange look from all the adults in the room for that last one.
Once Danse and Curie had finished their cake and again wished Duncan a happy birthday, they left, leaving us four to our own devices. Duncan and Shaun both went up to their rooms to read something, so Robert and I are left downstairs alone in the living room.
"So," I begin, "did you leave your Poe collection here on purpose, or did you just forget it?"
He looks up from the very book I speak of. "Um…" He places his finger where he left off and closes it. "I left it on purpose. Why do you ask?"
"I was just curious. Shaun got me wondering about it. I told him either you wouldn't have had the time to read it while you were gone so you just left it, or maybe you left it here for me—I wasn't sure." He smiles. "What?"
"How do you know me so well?"
"What do you mean?" I smile back at him, clueless.
"Of course I left it here for you. I knew I was going to be gone a while, and I felt like—since you know it's my favourite—it might have made you feel like I was still here in some way. Did you use it?" he asks, to which I laugh. "You did, didn't you?"
"Almost everynight," I confess. "I used it quite a bit for bedtime stories for Shaun." He raises his eyebrows. "Yeah," I chuckle. "I actually read Annabel Lee to him last night before we went to bed. You know, before you snuck in behind me and I stabbed you for being an intruder." He laughs—the pink line on his arm far gone by now.
"Yeah, I do know." He smiles again, raising the book to show me what he's reading. "It is one of my favourites." He raises it back to his face, reading aloud.
"But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulcher there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea."
He looks back up at me, the smile still on his face. "'My darling, my darling—my life and my bride.'" He chuckles lightly. "Sounds about right to me."
A/N: I tried my best to upload this chapter—the poem parts specifically—as I had them in my Word documents. Poems aren't written in this format, and it bugs me. Sorry if it bugs you, too. Nothing I could do about it, unfortunately.