Till death do us part
chapter 26
(c) 2024 by ihatemilk
_DECEMBER 2015
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When he opened his eyes, the sun was flooding the room, making everything glow bright blue.
He blinked several times, and still, everything apart from the ceiling seemed blue; well, not everything, just the walls, and the piano stool – a piano in the bedroom, great idea – and the bed creaked under the slightest of movements. He turned his head right and, squinting, regretted it instantly. This was what they got for not closing the window shutters for the night.
His wristwatch claimed it was 11:00.
They did like to sleep in recently, but this was a bit too much. He rolled to his left side and drifted away for a moment, staring at her, her face inches away. Funny, how she never looked sleepy, not even when asleep. He wanted to pull her into his arms but stopped himself; she needed as much sleep as she could get. But when his move to get out of bed made the wooden bed frame creak so loud it would wake up the dead, her eyes half-opened, and he moved back in, propping himself on one elbow, swiping the hair away from her forehead.
"What's so funny?" she muttered, squinting.
He gazed in bewilderment, before it occurred to him he was smiling. "Just you."
The bed creaked as she stretched her neck lazily. "I hate this bed," she draped her arm around his neck, drawing him close.
"Welcome to the club."
"What time is it?" she asked, toying with the hair on the back on his head while he kept sniffing around her neck.
"You don't wanna know."
"Past nine?"
"Try past eleven."
"What's going on with me? I've never slept that much in my life…" she grunted tiredly. He propped himself on one elbow, hovering over her.
"It's normal in the last trimester, with all the extra weight—" he said, and chuckled when he saw the grimace and a curse forming on her lips. "I meant the baby's weight."
"How is it that you know more about pregnancy than I do?"
"I'm just interested. Aren't you?"
"I'm exhausted."
Had it been like this before and he hadn't noticed, or was it just now? He knew she was permanently tired recently, it was well justified, but he had the impression she didn't sound like she was looking forward to it at all.
"Do you wanna have this baby?"
"What?" She pulled away, frowning. "Where did this come from?"
He sighed, not sure what to say, closing his eyes when she touched his cheek.
"Ares," she said softly, stroking his face, "I've never wanted anything as much as I want this…"
For a moment, he let himself melt into this; her words, the sound of her voice, the comforting warmth of her, but then he pulled away. For fuck's sake, it was him who was supposed to be taking care of her, not the other way round. And recently, it too often felt like it was the other way round.
"I'm gonna get you some breakfast," he said, sitting up.
"We'll eat in the town."
"No. We'll eat here, now."
"But your powers…"
"Food takes up close to nothing, it's fine," he said, running his hand over the top of her head.
"If you say so." She put her both hands above her head, her eyes shutting close as she stretched herself. He put a hand on her belly.
"She's so big already…" It still caught up with him, at times, the realization that there was this tiny human being inside her, that they created it; it was still mindblowing, no matter how much time passed.
"It's all this food you've been feeding me," she said, lifting herself on her elbows.
"We need a birth plan."
"What?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing.
"To decide on the details of—"
"Ares, no… not now… we'll talk about when we're back home…"
He opened his mouth and closed it, exhaling through the nose, biting on the lower lip. Asking her what was wrong didn't seem like the best idea, considering their current issues, but it was obvious she was avoiding the subject for some reason. He didn't know the reason, but one thing he knew for certain – he wasn't going to like it.
It was so hard to communicate when she was hormonal; and his self-control – well, it used to be better, back when he did regular therapy sessions with David, but ever since he took a break, he would lose his temper faster than ever; and somehow, the longer they were together, the shorter his fuse seemed to get.
He was about to get up and leave when she spoke. "Ares… how the hell do you even know what a birth plan is?"
He looked at her smugly, grinning. "I guess I just do my research when I'm into something."
She smiled softly, rolling her eyes, and for a moment, he thought she was about to speak; she opened her mouth slightly, but then closed it. And then she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards her; and pulled on the back of his neck until their lips met; and gods, when she kissed him like this, nothing else mattered anymore.
He deepened the kiss and, a while later, the need for her growing unbearable, he reached under the sheets. She put a hand on his chest, halting him. "I don't feel good."
"Nauseous?"
"No. Just everything else."
"You need to eat."
"I'm not hungry."
She would force herself to eat once the food was in front of her, that he knew; but there was some heaviness in the air now that wasn't there before. He didn't like it.
And he needed to smoke.
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After breakfast they went for a walk.
It was still chilly, maybe a bit warmer than yesterday, but he soon forgot all about it once they got talking about how the power dynamics in the Middle East had been changing since the Cold War. It had become one of their recent favorite pastimes, those discussions; and it thrilled him on more than one level.
He wasn't surprised she was fluent in geopolitics, but the extent of her knowledge was jaw-dropping at times; it didn't just match his, it sometimes outmatched it; and gods, when it did, it was hard not to rip her clothes off and put an early end to the discussion right then and there. As if she didn't drive him crazy enough without opening her mouth.
He had to be grinning, because her next words were pure sarcasm. "I didn't know the notion of Saudi-Israeli coalition made you that happy."
"Just when you thought you knew me so well…"
But then he knew it, when she didn't respond straight away, when her lips tightened, he knew what was coming.
"I keep learning to the contrary."
Her voice was heavy with resentment he didn't have the strength for at the moment; he needed to recover from yesterday, from the last several weeks, from all the thoughts rattling in his head, the things he couldn't tell her; from how draining it all was. And now she was going to push; still mad at him for hiding things from her, she was going to give him a worried look and ask why he was losing his powers, even though – knowing what a blabbermouth his sister was – Aphrodite must have blurted it out to her already. But she was worried, and she was going to ask.
Contrary to his hunch, she didn't; but it didn't help much. They kept walking in silence, the air between them suffocating, heavy with questions unasked.
Then, before he knew it, they were standing in front of the guesthouse again. He took her hand in his, leading her past the huge oak to the right, until they reached the door of the damn crypt.
"What are you doing?" she asked when he pushed the door open and guided her into the murky, stone interior.
She stared at the tomb, silent, easing into his embrace when he wrapped his arms around her.
"What I should've done yesterday."
"Ares…"
"I should've come here with you the first time, and not lose my shit like a fucking teenager."
She put her hand on his and gave it a firm squeeze, rubbing it with her thumb. "You have a lot on your plate now," she said, resting the back of her head against his shoulder as he hugged her tighter; and just like that, the heaviness was gone.
"I wish I only had you," he said, nuzzling the back of her head.
"I know," she said, turning her head slightly, her cheek brushing the tip of his nose. It was so calming; her hands squeezing his, the cold smoothness of her skin against his face, the warm scent of her; and the silence, which wasn't heavy anymore. Neither were her words that broke it. "We need to talk. But we'll talk once we're home, how about that?"
His chest swelled with such gratitude that he had to stop himself from crushing her in his arms. She stirred, and turned around till she faced him. "You okay?" she put a hand to his cheek.
"Right now…" he smiled, closing his eyes for a moment, "…pretty much, yeah," he said, and watched her mouth curl in a little smile.
"Good – so, with that settled – I need to pee."
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After the second time they pressed the doorbell, the door of the guesthouse opened.
She gripped his hand so hard she would've broken his bones if he'd been mortal; but damn, she did have a fucking good reason to, because – at first, he thought he was hallucinating, but no – standing in the doorway, smiling, was the clone of Cyrene, her very mother from two thousand years ago.
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