My not-really Husband
You sighed, flipping another page of the enormous book. As much as you loved history, this was too much. The book was over eight hundred pages long and it went on and on and on!!!
What was worse, it was making one of your favorite time periods sleep inducing.
The said book depicted a blow by blow depiction on Operation Overlord a.k.a D-Day. Every minuet detail was drawn out to great length. Annoying and boring.
Closing it, you leaned back in your chair and sighed again. Maybe a nap wasn't such a bad idea. Tossing the book down, you curled up in the chair, trying to fall asleep.
A few moments later, sleep hit you, sending you into dream world.
"Hey!! Doll face!! Rise and shine!!" A large hand roughly shook your shoulder. You frowned, smoshing your face deeper into your pillow. Who ever was stupid enough to attempt to wake you so early in the morning deserved the beating you were about to dish out.
"Come on ______. I though you wanted to see your husband in his uniform!!"
'My Husband?' You though sleepily 'I don't have a frickin' Husband.'
Then your heart stopped. (Not literally of course.) If you didn't have a husband, then who was the guy shaking your shoulder? And how come you were in bed, when you remembered falling asleep on the chair.
Your head shot up and you lashed out with a hand, hoping to catch your attacker by surprise. You did, except instead of feeling triumphant about the cry of shock the man let out, you were to worried about your hand. Because it felt like you just hit a brick wall.
Shaking your hand, you blinked through watery eyes at the man. He was tall, blond hair with blue eyes and glasses. And he was wearing a World War II America Army uniform. Dog tags dangled from around his neck. You squinted and read them, Alfred .F. Jones.
There were only three possible explanations. One you where dreaming. Two you had been kidnapped by a WWII fetish psycho. Or three, you had been sent back in time.
You really hoped it was door number one because you weren't sure you could handle a crazy guy with steel abs. And the though have going back in time was just plain scary, although you knew you could survive if you lived in America.
"Are you still mad?" His voice had gone soft, his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion and sadness. You frowned, unsure of what he meant.
Alfred crouched next to the bed, wrapping his warm, large hand around yours. You noticed that you both had matching wedding bands on your fingers. For some reason it warmed your heart slightly.
"I know you don't like it that I sighed up. I know the long amounts of time I have to spend away from you are upsetting." He sighed, squeezing your hand. "I'm sorry. But the more of us there are fighting, the better chance we have defeating the Axis."
You nodded, wondering what year it was. The man smiled, squeezing your hand once more. You squeezed back, distracted by the WWII facts floating through your mind.
"Um...What's today?" You inquired, not caring that it probably sounded weird. He smiled, his blue eyes crinkling in the corners. His other hand slid under the covers, rubbing your stomach.
"Is the baby addling your brains now? Not just your ability to keep food down?" You smacked Alfred's arm, even though you found yourself starting to panic.
This was all to real to be a dream. All to real to be a figment of your imagination and oh crap, you really needed to puke. Pushing the covers off, you bolted out of bed and down the hallway. Where was the bathroom?!
You took a random guess and were relived to find a porcelain bowl. As you vomited, you let your eyes wander down to your stomach. It was a small bump and you gauged yourself to about three months along, maybe four, you couldn't be sure. And quite frankly you didn't want to be sure, you wanted this to be a dream.
You felt a comforting hand rub your back. Alfred was crouched next to you, pulling your hair away from your face.
"I'm sorry I won't be here for a few months." His voice sounded sad and you could see how upset he was.
"You know the army has been rallying everyone for some sort of new attack. I'm going to have to train in England."
'Train in England?' There was only one specific attack you could remember that was proceeded by training in England.
Nausea overcame you again. You leaned forward and threw up, again.
You had been right. It was February 1944, which meant in two months 946 American soldiers and sailors would be killed in a rehearsal for D-day.
Six months before the actual fighting. Why should you care? This wasn't your time, it wasn't your home. Alfred wasn't your husband.
So why were you so scared for him?
Alfred was one of the sweetest people you had ever met. If you sighed, he would ask if you wanted to rest. If you placed your hands on your back, he wanted to know if he could give you a back rub. He tried to do everything for you. Heck, if you asked him for the moon, he would have invented a rocket ship twenty-five years early.
And then he had to go to England. You had only spent about a month with him, but you found yourself more in love with this man then anyone else you had ever met. It pained you knowing what he would face.
You stood on the train platform, shivering in your coat. Your coat was huge and warm, covering up the fact that you were pregnant. It wasn't the cold making you shiver, it was the fear you were feeling.
"I gotta go doll face. I don't want to miss my train." He grinned, shooting you a wink.
You smiled weakly, trying not to cry. Your heart hurt so much.
Giving you a quick kiss, he turned and boarded the train. Other men dressed in uniform boarded, shooting kisses at loved ones.
You didn't hear the cries of mother, wives and sister, all biding their loved ones goodbye. All you heard was your heart beating rapidly in your ears. All you saw was Alfred, leaning out a window, waving, a cocky grin on his face.
You ran forward, leaning over the small guard rail that separated the train from the platform. Reaching up, you grabbed Alfred's hands.
"Please don't do anything stupid. PLEASE!!"
He nodded, blinking rapidly. His eyes looked watery behind his glasses.
"I love you _____."
"I love you too Alfred!"
He let go as the train began moving. You watched sadly as he slowly disappeared. Why did you have to be sent to this time? Why did you have to fall in love with such a wonderful man, only to watch him march off to certain death.
Tears dripped down your cheeks. An old woman reached out and took your hand.
You nodded, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. She handed you a handkerchief, patting your back. You thanked her, wiping your eyes.
"My grandson has gone. The only family member left."
You gave her a watery smile. "I wish him the best of luck."
"And I wish you the best of luck, you're going to need your man, especially with a baby on the way."
You weren't surprised she had figured out you were pregnant. And she had figured out you needed Al more than anything else to live in this world.
Alfred sent you telegrams from time to time. And you responded with letters, hoping that the censors wouldn't butcher the writings you sent to him. But then, two months before D-day, the telegrams stopped. You continued writing letters, hoping that they reached him.
D-Day had come and gone and there was no word from Alfred. You prayed he hadn't been assigned to Omaha beach. The most brutal beach on D-Day. You felt sick and worried, now more then ever. Why? Simple. You had given birth to a healthy baby boy. You named him Alfred Jones Jr., the first name to pass your cracked lips.
He was a very serious baby, the exact opposite of Alfred. He even looked different, with brown hair and slightly tanned skin. But he was perfect, your little baby.
A knock on the door startled you. Setting Al Jr. back in his crib, you hurried to the door and flung it open. Instead of being greeted by an Army messenger with telegram of Alfred's death, you were face to face with Alfred himself.
You flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms about his neck. Alfred hugged you back with one arm, pressing his face into your neck. He was swaying slightly. You gave him a quizzical look, then looked down.
His left leg was gone from the knee down. Looking back up you saw fear and uncertainty lurking in his eyes.
"I took a bullet to the leg, it grew infected and they had to amputate.... I...." He broke off, swallowing, looking at the ground while he balanced on his crutch.
"Do you still want me?"
"Yes you idiot!!!" You wrapped your arms around him again. You were one of the lucky ones, Alfred had only lost part of his leg.
"Want to come see Al Jr.?"
His eyes went wide. Looking down, he ran a hand over your now smaller stomach.
"You gave birth!!!" He made a a motion to pick you up, then stopped, realizing that he couldn't in his current state. You helped him inside, then upstairs, letting him lean against your shoulder.
After you managed to get into the nursery, you picked up the baby and handed him to Alfred. Your husband handled the child like he was made of glass, staring in awe.
"You're the best doll." He wrapped an arm around your waist, swaying slightly on his one good leg. You nestled against his chest, wrapping one arm about his waist and one around Al Jr.
You hated knowing what would come next. Knowing the conflict that would soon be. But there were good things to look forward too. And one of them was watching your son grow up, with Alfred at your side.
You had been lucky enough to have landed in a small pocket of happiness. Alfred smiled down at you, placing a swift kiss on your forehead.
"I'm the luckiest man alive."
'No' You thought 'I'm the lucky one. Lucky to have you.'
You were trapped in the wrong time, but you didn't care. You wanted to stay here forever.