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It’s quarter past midnight and Annabeth is on her way home from Hazel’s. It’s also twenty degrees and her jacket is definitely not warm enough for this weather. Hazel had suggested she get a cab, but her apartment is only a couple of blocks away from home so Annabeth couldn’t really justify it. She’d had a hard time persuading her to let her walk home by herself but had won by reminding Hazel that she was more than capable of taking care of herself if somebody tried to cross her.
She also promised to text her as soon as she was home safe or Hazel would be sending out a search party.
Annabeth wraps her too thin jacket more tightly around herself and curses herself for not giving in and getting a taxi. Her jeans feel like tights against the icy air and her boots feel wafer thin. She sees the light over the front door to her building and breaks into a jog, watching her breath puff out in little clouds and fumbling for her keys in her pocket. Her fingers are almost numb which makes navigating the already tricky lock difficult but she manages it and slams it shut behind her.
Running up the four flights of stairs warm her up a little bit but she’s still shivering when she reaches the familiar green door and stumbles again with the lock.
The apartment is dark and barely warmer than the hallway. She hangs her jacket next to the door and shoves her boots onto the pile of shoes on the floor. She tracks her way through the dark living room, avoiding corners of tables and couches by memory, and opens the door to her bedroom.
And there she finds the only square of light in the whole apartment, that being her husband’s mobile phone lighting up his sleepy face.
“Hi,” he says as she shuts the bedroom door. “Hazel was getting ready to send the search party.”
Annabeth starts shoving her jeans down her legs. “You can tell her I’m alive and well.”
Percy smiles and dutifully returns to his phone to presumably send Hazel the my wife got home safe no need for reinforcements text. He’s tucked up under the covers, looking cozy and Annabeth thinks she’s never felt so unbearably jealous of someone in her life. She unhooks her bra and pulls it out through her sleeve without removing her t shirt or sweater and pulls off her socks before climbing under the covers next to him.
“Holy mother of fuck it’s cold,” she complains, jerking with shivers as she buries herself closer to him.
Percy drops his phone onto his bedside table and scooches down the bed to wrap his arms around her.
“Why didn’t you put pyjama pants on?” he mumbles into her hair.
“Because that would have delayed me getting into bed.”
“Right, of course.”
Annabeth fidgets closer to him, slotting her leg between his and her arm around his waist. She presses her cold toes against his calves and shoved hands up his back and laughs when he squirms.
“You’re freezing,” he complains.
“I know. Why isn’t the heating on in here?”
“Because we're poor.”
“We’re not poor. You’re just a cheapskate.” They really aren’t poor, for the first time in their lives they’re actually pretty financially stable; that’s just a carry on line from their time in college when they really were poor.
Percy laughs. “Well maybe it’s just a ploy to get you to press up against me.”
Annabeth tucks her face against the warm skin of his neck. “As if you need a ploy for that.”
“That’s true, you’re very easy.”
She shoves his chest. “Fuck off.”
Percy kisses the side of her head where he can reach and then he kisses her ear and her cheek and her jaw. She squirms and laughs against him, feeling the cold bite of his ring on her neck when he grabs her to hold her still. The scrape of his stubble on her skin lets her know he’s trimmed it recently and tickles her more than his fingers creeping over her ribs.
“Oh my god, stop!”
She manages to grab hold of his wrists and pin them between their bodies while he laughs at her. In the dim light she can see his smile but not much else. She knows the skin around his eyes is crinkled and his tongue is poking out between his teeth. She knows he looks unbearably cute.
“You warming up yet?” he asks, smile in his voice.
Annabeth rolls her eyes and squeezes his hands, pushing their legs back together. “A little.”
Percy leans into her space and presses his lips to her forehead. He stays there for a moment and Annabeth lets herself get swept up in the gesture. She feels safe here, in this little universe of theirs.
She wonders if now is the right time to tell him.
She’s been putting off sharing this little (enormous) secret since last Tuesday and it’s eating her alive. For some reason she’s been building up the reveal as something special; a big dramatic thing. Annabeth isn’t sure why as neither of them have ever been much for big romantic gestures. Their milestones have been marked with intimate sentiment; Percy proposed in the dining Pavilion at Camp Half Blood, they got married at City Hall with Grover, Sally, and Paul as their witnesses. Every anniversary is usually celebrated with the same chocolate store bought cake in the shape of a caterpillar and possibly a new set of lingerie.
Annabeth knows Percy won’t care how she tells him or where they are or who else is there. It’s the message, not the environment, which will be the significant outcome.
But still.
Maybe she’ll tell him when he makes her breakfast in the morning. ( Oh hey, speaking of eggs…)
Annabeth releases one of his hands and pushes his hair back from his face, twirling the strands between her fingers before they release from her grip. It’s getting long, he’s too lazy to get it cut. She keeps teasing him that she could get it into a man bun and he complains and says he’ll walk into a barber the next day, but he never does. Annabeth actually loves it because she can tug on it, she thinks he might be reluctant to cut it off for that reason too.
“Percy, I…”
He shifts against her. “What?” he asks softly.
It almost comes out then, just on the edge of her tongue before darting inside again.
“I think we should go to the park tomorrow.”
Percy rubs her back. “Sure, if you want to.”
The park is real pretty this time of year, with all of the leaves descending in their arrays of gold and brown and red. Maybe she’ll take him for a picnic and tell him then.
Although the egg idea is sounding better the longer she thinks about it.
Annabeth smiles as she kisses him goodnight and burrows deeper against him, sharing his warmth and his love, which he readily shares with her. And as she drifts off, finally feeling heat tingle back into her fingers and toes, she thinks about how unbearably lucky she is for this to be the biggest problem in her life right now. Ten years ago, she couldn’t have imagined being in this place. But here she is; here they are.
Annabeth wakes up feeling too warm under the mountain of sheets she’s managed to bury herself under. The bed is empty and too big. She kicks the covers down and stretches her arms above her head, groaning when her joints click pleasantly. Then she clambers out of bed in search of life.
She finds it in the nook of a kitchen in their apartment.
Percy has his back to her at the stove. His pyjama pants are halfway hiked up his leg on one side and his t shirt is incredibly crumpled. His hair is the stuff of nightmares.
Annabeth barely crosses the threshold before she cracks.
“I’m pregnant.”
In her defense, she’s very sleepy and the sight of him is so incredibly inviting that she’d just felt a little overwhelmed.
Percy turns around slowly, eyes wide and chin dropped.
Annabeth shuffles her bare feet on the linoleum, feeling strangely embarrassed of her outburst. So much for a romantic gesture. She hadn’t even gotten the line about the eggs in.
“You’re…” Percy blinks and she takes it as a positive sign of life.
She steps forward until she’s in his space and holds onto his sides as she looks up at him and nods.
“We’re gonna have a baby. Sorry my reveal wasn’t more dramatic, i’d sort of worked it up in my head and this was a bit of a flop. I could go back and do it over? I had a great line about the eggs-”
She’s cut off when Percy wraps his arms around her and lifts her up, laughing into her shoulder. Annabeth gasps and holds onto his shoulders as he sways them around the tiny kitchen.
“We’re having a baby?!” he yells.
Annabeth laughs gleefully. “We’re having a baby. A mini Jackson, third member of the troupe.”
Percy sets her down and grabs her face, squishing her cheeks together. He’s grinning so wide it must hurt, and there’s the tongue poking out and the crinkles around his eyes and Annabeth’s heart might burst with this feeling. He presses that smile to hers and she’s not sure it can count as a kiss because they’re smiling so much. It’s possibly her favourite sort of kiss.
When he draws back, he doesn’t go far. He leans his forehead against hers and sways her back and forth again, looking giddy and a little disbelieving. Knowing that she put that expression on his face, she’s not sure why she waited so long to share this news.
The cracks and pops coming from behind him distract her though.
“Are you burning my eggs.”
Percy shakes his head, bumping his nose against hers. “Fuck the eggs.”
Annabeth jerks her head back. “No, don’t fuck the eggs, I want to eat the eggs.”
Disbelief paints Percy’s features for a moment before he laughs it off. “Alright, princess. Since you’re eating for two.” He pecks her lips once more before releasing her and returning dutifully to their breakfast.
Annabeth smacks his bum before crossing to get plates and cutlery for them. “I’m gonna get to be so demanding and have the perfect excuse, this is so great.”
“Annabeth, I love you with my whole heart, but you’re already demanding as hell.”
“Fuck off.”
He grins at her as he scoops the eggs onto their plates. “When are we gonna have to cut back on the cursing?”
Annabeth grabs their toast and the butter before taking a seat. “Hmm?”
Percy sits opposite her. “Well when can the baby hear us.”
“I mean, it’s smaller than these eggs right now, so I think we’re good.”
Percy grins at her.
“Stop it,” she complains.
“Stop what?” he asks around a mouthful of food.
“Being so cute. I’m tryna eat over here.”
“Sorry, I’ll be uncute from now on. Strictly horrible and ugly.”
She rolls her eyes at him and tucks into her breakfast.
Percy lasts about twelve seconds before he’s grinning again and Annabeth ends up sliding her plate next to his and sitting in his lap to eat the rest of it. She thinks about bringing more life into this cluttered apartment of theirs. She realises they’ll probably need to get a bigger place at some point and Sally will need to temporarily move in. She decides then and there that Grover will be godfather, knowing Percy will wholeheartedly agree, and contemplates who should be the godmother. She briefly wonders what her parents respective reactions will be and decides that she cares much more about Sally Jackson’s reaction, which will undoubtedly be overjoyed.
She wonders how terrible she might be at being a mother.
She holds onto Percy’s hand over her stomach and remembers that she’s the farthest thing from alone in this.
She realises that they started their family a long time ago, in the exchange of a kiss on his sixteenth birthday, on linked hands underneath the earth, on the ominous overshadow of a prophecy which tied the together long before they’d even met.
For as long as she can remember, Percy has been home for her. He’s been her family; now it’s just about to get bigger.