Chapter Text
i. guts
Annabeth stares at the large beige tiles on the ceiling, the flickering fluorescent lights not doing much to help her anxiety. She wonders, if she had better health insurance, maybe she could do her labs somewhere where the ceiling didn’t look like a sad, public partition office from the 90’s.
Surprisingly, this clinic is supposed to be nice. It is efficient, sure. But Annabeth figures maybe if you will ask people to strip down and open their legs to complete strangers, it wouldn’t hurt to decorate the rooms a little more tastefully.
“Ms. Chase,” the nurse comes back to the room, pulling Annabeth out of her thoughts. “Dr. René will be performing your exam, okay?”
Annabeth nods, which seems like a dumb thing to do because her head is most definitely out of sight for the nurse, leveled down from her pelvic position and almost hidden behind the ultrasound machine.
She doesn't have much time to dwell on it, though, because Dr. René soon follows the nurse inside, and Annabeth is disappointed to notice that he is, unfortunately, a man.
Annabeth knows many women claim to have a preference for male ob-gyns, but the only reason she can fathom for that is pure old misogyny. She would never understand how someone could be more comfortable being in this vulnerable position with a man than a woman.
If she could, she would never be in this kind of situation with a male specimen ever again. The clinic, however, hasn’t yet come up with the brilliant idea of allowing patients to choose a doctor –or at least their gender– for these routine tests. So, each time, she just hopes for the best.
The universe, it seems, isn't really on her side these days, though.
“Annabeth, right?”
When doctor René talks, Annabeth breathes out, a little relieved. His voice is gentle, and he offers her a polite smile as he walks in.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Dr. René,” he continues, sliding down into the little wheeled stool that awaits by the side of her bed. “Have you ever done this procedure before?”
She nods again, but figures it’s best to offer a verbal confirmation. “Hm, yes. I have.”
“Ok, and what are we looking for today? Are you here for any specific reason or is it just a routine check-up?”
For a man, Dr. René isn’t so bad, she thinks. She isn't one to judge a book by its cover, and she wouldn’t make assumptions about his sexuality, but he definitely makes her feel a little more comfortable than other doctors she’d been with who were harsher and most definitely straight.
“Oh, hum… A bit of both,” she reveals. “I have an IUD, so I don’t really have a regular cycle. But I’ve been feeling some discomfort… So I wanted to check if everything is okay.”
“Ok, good choice. It’s good to be on top of those symptoms,” he offers her that clean, sympathetic smile. “Alright, let’s get started. Let me show you how it works, just to refresh your memory…”
Annabeth had never had a doctor show her the ultrasound wand and explain exactly the dynamics of the procedure to her. Dr. René, however, does it, and still makes an effort to explicitly show her the moment he unwraps the condom.
It is the weirdest thing, she thinks, putting a condom on a plastic stick. She would’ve thought that, in the 21st century, someone would’ve already developed a specific protection for this. It always blows her mind that this is the same blue package that you would find at a free clinic or behind the cashier at a convenience store.
He warns her about the lubricant gel and asks for verbal consent before burying the ultrasound wand inside her.
Annabeth never feels much physical discomfort during these procedures. Psychologically, though, it's hell.
She can never wrap her head around the fact that she is just there, lying down with her thighs opened, as someone she’s never seen before sticks something inside her vagina and avoids looking at it at all costs. Which is professional, of course, but in her opinion doesn't really make the situation better. It just makes her wonder, how many times do you have to do this before you know exactly where to stick it without even looking at it?
“Hm, Annabeth, you told me you have an IUD? What kind is it, is it hormonal?”
“Yeah.”
“Ok, and how long have you had it for?”
“Oh, hum,” she wavers a little, gathering her words. She’d never really gotten these type of questions in this kind of appointment. It’s mostly a quick in and out, followed by the express results that she could grab online and actually discuss with her real doctor later. “It's been a while.”
If she’s being honest, she would have to do some maths to know exactly how long it has been since she had the IUD inserted. She knows it's getting old, that’s exactly why she’d scheduled the ultrasound and the appointment with her ob-gyn, as well as due to the cramps she’d been feeling lately. But the actual number of years isn’t exactly on the tip of her tongue. She doesn’t think about it that often.
Dr. René nods, but Annabeth doesn't like the way his brows furrow as he looks at the screen, poking inside her.
“Does a while mean months or years?” He asks.
“Uh… Years,” she feels a little embarrassed, like the answer she’s giving is the wrong one. His expression, however, is not judgy, just concerned.
“So is it possible that it’s expired?”
She knows she’s blushing now, and so she just confirms it with a noise from her throat. She doesn’t want to look like someone who’s irresponsible about her health, but the truth is, between deadlines, meetings with clients and projects info, the IUD expiration date didn’t make it to her top priorities this past few months. She knew she was supposed to replace it this year, but now she realizes, it is already September and she’s yet to start the process.
He pauses the image, and, next thing she knows, the wand is out of her, and he is turning around to face her.
“Ok, maybe you'll want to sit down now,” he suggests, and she obeys, reluctant. She’d never gotten to the sit down part before. “Were you thinking about replacing your IUD?”
She nods.
“Right, so I assume that what I’m going to tell you next isn’t exactly what you’re expecting to hear,” he looks at her in that soft, but still cold way that doctors do when they have bad news. “Annabeth…You’re pregnant.”
And that’s when Annabeth does something she’s sure she’ll remember for the rest of her life: she laughs. Loudly. She covers her mouth with her hands, her body shaking as she briefly takes note of the nurse’s shocked expression at the corner of the room.
She realizes the reaction is rude, maybe a bit childish even, but she can’t help herself. The statement is so ridiculous, so absurd, that for a moment she almost considers that it’s bound to be an April Fool's prank.
“I'm sorry,” she shakes her head, taking a deep breath to calm herself down. “Sorry, but this is not possible.”
Dr. René offers her a sympathetic smile. “I understand it’s probably a shock, but I suggest you talk to your regular provider about your options.”
Annabeth merely blinks at him.
“Look,” he turns the screen towards her and points at something that she honestly can’t quite differ from the rest of the blueish bubbles and curves.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure there’s nothing there.”
He raises his eyebrows, and Annabeth thinks to herself that maybe she should tone it down a notch. She doesn’t want this doctor losing his patience or giving up on her.
“Can you see this little dot here?” He circles it with his finger. “That's an embryo. And you can also see here that your IUD has slightly moved out of place, which would also be a plausible explanation for this, if it hasn’t reached the expiration date yet.”
“Listen, Dr. René,” she tries to keep her voice calm. “I don’t mean to undermine you or anything. I just really think there must be another explanation for this.”
He sighs. “Annabeth. Are you sexually active?”
Her cheeks flush, as if she’s being asked this question for the first time. Disarmed, she nods.
“Have you had any male partners the last few months?”
“The last… Oh,” she gulps, realization dawning on her.
Finally, Dr. René nods, pursing his lips.
“That,” he points to the unrecognizable circle once again. “Is a six-week embryo.”
With that, he resumes the routine recommendations and once again suggests that she discusses her options with her regular healthcare provider. Before leaving, he wishes her good luck, and the nurse soon follows him, but not before giving her some pamphlets.
Annabeth can’t read them properly –her head is spinning. So she just hopes that they’re not the ones with safe sex recommendations. These would be a couple months late, apparently.
***
“I think I’ve met the love of my life,” Piper nearly giggles as she pours syrup on top of her pancakes. It gives a childish tone to her actions, and Annabeth probably would have teased her about it any other Saturday. Unfortunately, today, her mind is so full of her own concerns that she barely notices it.
“Really?” Hazel raises her eyebrows, skeptically sipping on her cappuccino. Every Saturday morning, they meet at this same cafe for brunch, and she orders that same drink. And every week, Annabeth wonders if she never feels the urge to try something new. At the same time, the routine fits Hazel perfectly.
“Yep,” Piper throws a piece of pancake inside her mouth and they wait for her to chew in silence. “Yesterday.”
“Sure, and where did you meet her?” Hazel goes along with it.
“At the office,” Piper points. “We entered the same elevator and our fingers brushed when I went to press the button for my floor. It’s fate.”
Annabeth can’t help but roll her eyes, which gets Piper’s attention.
“Ok, grinch, what’s wrong with you today?” Her friend asks, pointing her fork at her. “You've barely said a word since we sat here, and honestly you’re a lot grumpier than usual.”
Annabeth sighs, not eager to share her news yet. She had hoped she could hide her bad mood better, maybe get through the whole meal without reaching this subject. That plan, however, clearly fails, because before she can even try to wave it off as nothing, her friends are staring at her with inquiring expressions. She wishes she was better at hiding her emotions. Especially because telling them that news will mean having to tell them about something else that happened, the one night that had gotten her into this situation to begin with.
If Annabeth is being honest, she is less hesitant to tell them about the pregnancy itself than about the thing that originated it. She doesn’t want to deal with all the questions and assumptions and knowing glares that will come with that. Therefore, she decides to begin with the easy part. Or something like that.
“Fine,” she concedes, breathing in. "I'm pregnant.”
Perhaps she should have eased into the subject before throwing it at them.
Piper’s gooey piece of pancake falls back to her plate as she stares at Annabeth, her fork standing still in her hand, where it’d been stopped midway towards her mouth. Annabeth’s sure she sees Hazel spit some of her cappuccino back into her mug –a fact she would never bring up to her friend, though (she would be mortified).
“Pregnant?” Piper finally manages. “Like, actually carrying a baby?”
Hazel nudges her with an elbow, sending her a glare.
“Well, I guess it’s not an actual baby yet but–,” Annabeth stops herself, as Hazel’s glare has turned towards her now. “Yeah, like… Pregnant pregnant.”
“Ok, uh-,” Hazel bites her lip, probably considering the best words to say next. “When did you find out?”
“On Thursday,” Annabeth gulps, reliving the terrible moment when she questioned the doctor's affirmation multiple times before finally accepting the truth. “I went for a routine ultrasound. I’d been feeling some cramps and just a bit bloated I guess, and that’s when I realized it was around time my IUD expired. So I went to check on it before I scheduled my appointment to replace it and.. boom!”
“Boom?” Hazel arches an eyebrow.
“Yeah, well, I was lying there, maybe expecting the doctor to tell me it was misplaced, worst case scenario. And he just goes, ‘Annabeth, you’re pregnant!”
Piper seems ready to poke poor Dr. René’s neck with that fork. “Is he even allowed to do that?”
“Honestly, I guess he did the best he could with the situation. I mean, this possibility hadn’t even crossed my mind, poor guy had to show me the image three times before I believed him.”
Annabeth’s gaze drifts to Piper’s forgotten pancakes, giving her friends time to process the information as she watches the sad pool of syrup that is now forming on the plate. This was one conversation she really didn’t think she would be having, at least not now, not in these circumstances.
Annabeth loved her IUD. It was practical, simple. It had none of the side effects that the pill had when she took it. And, most importantly, it kept her from bleeding heavily every month, which she had always thought was a waste of her time.
So, as long as she wasn’t fully menstruating each month and wasn’t feeling terrible pain, she didn’t give it too much thought. Sure, the longterm contraception had been one of the main reasons she had chosen the IUD in the first place, but since her workload as an architect had absorbed a huge part of her life… The birth control, while useful, had become mostly a bonus.
Honestly, Annabeth’s sex life had been so uneventful this year that pregnancy would not have crossed her mind in a million years. This –combined with the fact that recently she’d shown a lot more interest in women than man– made Dr. René’s words feel so out of place, that she really did not believe them at first.
The words, nonetheless, however unlikely or unexpected, were not impossible. If only Annabeth had thought about it that night, on her 30th birthday…
“Annabeth,” Hazel reaches out for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze to show support. “How are you feeling?”
“I don’t know,” Annabeth shrugs. “Still in shock, I guess.”
Her friend nods, pursing her lips. Annabeth can’t read her expression well, but the sweetness in her caramel eyes makes her feel somewhat better. “How far along are you?”
“Uh… A couple months,” Annabeth tries to sound nonchalant, but she knows she fails. She desperately hopes that her friends will be too stuck on the fact that it took her that long to realize something was wrong. If they focus on that, maybe they won’t have time to think about anything else. To say this is a long shot, however, is one hell of an understatement.
“Wait a minute,” Piper furrows her eyebrows, finally catching up. “You haven’t slept with anyone in like forever, let alone a man?”
Annabeth gulps, knowing very well where this conversation will lead to. Hazel stretches her neck, suddenly also very interested in the information. She would never ask the dirty questions herself, always too concerned about her friends’ wellbeing before anything else, but Annabeth knows that deep down, she’s just as curious as Piper.
“Uh… That’s not… I-,” Annabeth licks her lips, and that’s when she notices that her palms are sweating. She almost scoffs at herself, the foolishness of the situation dawning on her. How can she be so direct to share such important information and have so much trouble to deliver a silly detail?
“You lied to us!” Piper cries, her mouth opening in disbelief.
“I didn’t lie,” Annabeth defends, raising a hand as if to prove her point. “I just… omitted irrelevant information.”
“Oh, spare us! I don’t know what happened, or else, who. But I’m pretty sure it’s past the irrelevant stage now.”
Hazel nudges Piper once again, earning a “what?” glare to herself. The curly haired girl just intensifies her scowl.
“Ok, stop! She doesn’t have to tell us if she doesn’t want to.” She then turns to Annabeth. “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.”
Annabeth sighs, her heart racing in her chest. She knows she has to tell them, she needs their support to deal with this and she never really liked hiding stuff from them. Especially important stuff –which she now has to admit that this has turned into.
She takes one deep breath, briefly closing her eyes to gather up the courage to continue.
“It was Percy,” she finally spills. “It's Percy, the father is Percy.”
Saying those words out loud makes Annabeth’s stomach growl. She feels nauseous, which she figures probably is not just psychological, all things considered. She has no idea what she’s going to do about this yet, but saying the word father actually makes it feel like a baby for the first time.
She lifts her gaze to take in her friends’ stunned expressions, their matching o-shaped mouths and wide eyes.
“Percy Jackson?” Piper gasps. “Percy your-best-fucking-friend Jackson?”
Annabeth just nods, unsuccessfully trying to keep the food in her stomach.
She can’t tell if it’s the realization dawning on her, or solely the smell of the bacon on her plate, but suddenly it becomes unbearable. Next thing she knows, she’s jolting up and running to the bathroom, trying her best not to vomit before finally reaching the toilet.
Annabeth doesn’t know what will happen next, or what everyone in the restaurant is thinking of her, or if she’ll ever want to eat bacon ever again.
But she doesn’t care. Because as she’s literally spilling her guts out in that tiny bathroom, Piper and Hazel are right there holding her hair back. And she knows they’ll do it again and again, if they have to.