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The room was dim with early morning light, pale gold slipping through the curtains in thin strips across the floorboards.
Percy eased the door open carefully, already expecting silence.
Vex had barely slept the last few weeks. When she did, it came in fragments—short stretches filled with restless turning, quiet nightmares, and the kind of exhaustion that never seemed to touch the grief beneath it. He had started checking on her before doing anything else each morning. Sometimes she was awake staring at the ceiling. Sometimes curled into herself so tightly it looked painful.
Sometimes she pretended to be fine. Today, at first glance, she looked asleep.
She was turned toward the window, blankets pulled around her shoulders, long braid loose and half undone across the pillow. Percy stepped inside quietly, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
Then he noticed it. Her shoulders were trembling. Small movements. Barely visible.
And then he heard it. A tiny broken inhale. Another. Sniffling she was clearly trying to smother into the pillow.
For a moment he simply stood there, heart twisting painfully in his chest as realization settled over him. Vex never cried loudly anymore. Not since Vax. It was as though grief had hollowed her out so deeply that even her sorrow came quietly now, hidden away where no one could touch it.
His gaze dropped instinctively toward the slight curve beneath the blankets.
Percy swallowed hard before moving closer.
The mattress dipped carefully as he sat beside her. “Dear heart,” he said softly.
Vex stiffened immediately. Like she hadn’t realized he was there.
Her hand moved quickly, wiping at her face before she rolled slightly onto her back, eyes red-rimmed and wet despite her efforts. “Sorry,” she whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t.”
Her expression crumpled a little at that, embarrassed more than anything. Vex looked away toward the window, jaw tight as she fought for composure.
“I’m alright.”
Percy let out the faintest breath through his nose. “You are many things, Vex’ahlia. A convincing liar has never been one of them.”
Normally that might have earned him a weak smirk. Today it only made her eyes fill again.
She pressed the heel of her palm against them angrily. “Gods, I’m so tired of crying.”
Percy’s chest ached. He reached carefully for her hand, easing it away from her face before threading their fingers together. Her skin felt cold.
“You don’t have to hide it from me.”
“I know.” Her voice cracked anyway. “I just…” She stopped, swallowing hard. “I thought it would get easier.”
The words hung heavy between them. Percy knew she wasn’t speaking only about Vax.
It was everything.
Losing him. Carrying a child he would never meet. Waking up every morning to joy and grief existing side by side so violently it threatened to split her apart.
Vex gave a shaky laugh that sounded more broken than amused. “I keep thinking about how furious he’d be that he’s missing this.”
At that, Percy finally felt his own throat tighten. Because he’d thought the same thing.
Vax would have been unbearable about it. Protective to the point of insanity. Loud about becoming an uncle. Constantly teasing Percy while secretly hovering over Vex every second of the day.
The absence of him filled the room like another person.
Percy shifted closer, gently pulling Vex toward him.
The moment she leaned against his chest, the fragile composure she’d been holding shattered completely. A small, wounded sound escaped her as she buried her face against him, fingers clutching weakly at his shirt.
Percy wrapped both arms around her immediately.
“I miss him,” she whispered. “Percy, I miss my brother so much.”
"I know.”
“I don’t know how to do this without him.”
“You won’t have to.”
She cried harder at that.
Percy pressed his lips against her hair, holding her carefully, steadily, as if he could somehow keep all the pieces of her together through sheer determination alone.
Outside, the sun continued rising.
Inside, Percy stayed exactly where he was, holding his wife while she mourned her brother and the future he should have been there to see.
Percy stayed with her until the worst of the tears finally began to quiet.
Not disappear. Just soften into shaky breathing and exhaustion.
Carefully, he shifted away long enough to pull off his shoes and set aside his coat before climbing properly into bed beside her. The mattress dipped under his weight as he settled behind her, drawing the blankets back up around them both.
Vex curled instinctively toward him.
Percy pressed close, one arm slipping around her waist before his hand came to rest gently against the small swell of her stomach.
The touch was reverent every time. Still slightly disbelieving.
He let his thumb brush softly across her stomach before murmuring near her ear, “And how is our little one doing today?”
Vex let out a weak sniff through the remnants of tears. She wiped at her face with the sleeve of her nightshirt before covering his hand with hers.
“They can tell their mum is upset,” she whispered.
Percy’s expression faltered.
He tightened his hold around her slightly. “I imagine they also know their mother loves them very much.”
Vex stared down at their joined hands resting over her stomach. “What if that isn’t enough?”
“It will be.”
“But what if I…” She swallowed hard. “What if I’m too broken for this, Percy?”
The question nearly undid him. He shifted closer immediately, pressing his forehead gently against the back of her head. “Vex’ahlia,” he said softly, firmly, “you are grieving. That is not the same thing.”
Her fingers curled tighter around his.
“I keep crying,” she admitted quietly. “One moment I’m happy and the next I can barely breathe because I want to tell Vax something and remember I can’t.”
Percy shut his eyes briefly.
“I know.”
“And then I feel guilty because this should be happy.” Her voice cracked again. “This should only be happy.”
“No,” Percy whispered. “No, It was never going to be only one thing love."
She went silent.
Percy kept his hand against her stomach, thumb moving in slow absent circles.
"You lost someone you loved,” he murmured. “And at the same time, we were given someone new to love. Those things were always going to exist together.”
Vex took a trembling breath.
“He should be here.”
“He should.”
She leaned back slightly into him at that—not because the grief lessened, but because he wasn’t trying to take it away from her. He was simply carrying it with her.
After a long quiet moment, Percy felt her squeeze his hand again.
“They’ll know him,” she whispered suddenly.
Percy blinked. “Hm?”
“Our baby.” She looked down at her stomach again. “They’ll know who Vax was. I’ll make sure of it.”
A faint ache pulled through Percy’s chest.
He pressed a kiss gently against her temple. “I should think they’ll grow rather tired of hearing stories about him.”
That finally earned the smallest huff of laughter from her.
“Impossible,” Vex muttered.
And Percy smiled softly into her hair, holding her a little tighter as morning light slowly filled the room around them.