A/N: So I was once again inspired by the fantastic OTP Prompts blog on Tumblr and I'm unbelievably thankful for those damn prompts because without them I probably wouldn't have been writing lately. I also need to thank a good friend of mine because she's really been lighting the fire under me to get back in the game. Reading her work inspires me so this is for her!
I do not own the characters of The Walking Dead, they belong to Robert Kirkman. This is all for my own personal amusement.
Prompt: Imagine Muse A of your OTP is pregnant. Muse A complains to Muse B that they can't get any sleep because the baby has been kicking Muse A nonstop since last night. So, Muse B gathers Muse A in their arms, sits them on their lap, and rubs Muse A's stomach to help them feel better.
She hadn't slept in what felt like weeks. Her nights were spent tossing and turning, back and forth desperately trying to find an even somewhat comfortable position. Her clothes were either too tight or too lose, hanging over her once muscular frame like a tent. When she had first mentioned this to Carl he had burst out laughing, but only before she stopped him dead in his tracks with a glare that could burn the sun. Her days were spent patrolling the community, katana slung across her shoulder all the while absentmindedly stroking her ever-growing belly. Rick liked pointing out that she would sing or hum to the baby when they were alone or when she was absolutely lost in thought. But right now those always fond memories faded into the deeper recesses of her mind and all she could focus on was her much needed slumber, but needless to say that intense focus only fueled her thoughts and that in turn kept her more awake.
Tonight was worse than most. She'd been up the past few nights and now the baby was in a state of constant activity, constantly kicked or wriggling around. She was irritated, her eyes hung heavy, and she felt like she was moving in slow motion, limbs feeling like they were trudging through cement. Rick was being unbelievably sweet as of late, making sure she ate regularly, took over extra shifts so she could spend some time off her feet. Carl joined them in their daily rounds, acting as a constable in training, reporting back anything awry or off. He, much like his father, was caring for her just as much. They kept the house as quiet as they could at night, hopeful that the silence would lull her to sleep. No such luck, and here she was, once again, getting back out of bed in search of the only person who could calm her. She tiptoed as best she could as to not wake the rest of her family. Carl had long since gone to bed, checking on his baby sister before doing so, and Daryl and Carol had gone a few hours after him. Rick however had refused, insistent that she would fall asleep more easily without him by her side. As much as she respected and loved the man, he was sometimes so stupidly wrong. All she wanted was to curl up next to him and snuggle as close as she could to her little one's daddy.
Sometimes she couldn't help but laugh, how normal this all was in such in abnormal reality. Her pregnancy hormones were running rampant and this took more getting used to than the walker outbreak ever had. Nights like this she couldn't help but remember when she first suspected that she was pregnant. A few months after they had started getting intimate she had felt off. She got dizzy easily, got nauseous frequently and tired a lot quicker than she ever had before. And then she was late. Before that she had dismissed her other symptoms, convincing herself that she was somehow getting sick. The flu, a bad case of the common cold if she was lucky. But then she noticed that Mother Nature had ignored her, and that's when the alarms started blaring. Surprisingly enough the first person she went to was Deanna. She wanted the woman to know that in nine short months their community would once again be welcoming a child for all to ooh and aah at. She had taken Michonne off guard, offered her a cup of tea and sat her down for a nice chat. She assured the younger that they would take the necessary precautions to ensure she had a successful pregnancy, but before that she asked Michonne if she was certain she was carrying.
"Well no, I suppose not. The symptoms are all there but no. I don't have a test if that's what you're getting at."
Without further prying, Deanna went to the bottom cabinet of her island, pulled a box out from its wrapping in a brown paper bag, handed it to Michonne and sent her home.
"No rush. Take it when you're ready. Just let me know when you're certain?" Michonne nodded, went to leave and was stopped by the elder woman's gentle hold around her wrist.
"You call the shots here, you hear me? You do what you want and I'll make sure it happens. We don't need any more tragedy 'round here." She released her grip and Michonne headed home, nearly in tears as she went. Damn hormones.
After her encounter with Alexandria's head honcho she took the test immediately, waited the necessary time span and checked the results. This time she couldn't hold back her tears, and instead she let the flow freely down her cheeks, simultaneously excited and terrified, but not for the same reason as most expectant mothers. She wasn't sure how long this all would last, and the last thing she wanted was to give birth and raise a child among the chaos and gore of this world. But now she wouldn't dwell on it. Couldn't let herself, or those thoughts would return and she would sink back into that desolate place that no one should have to live. Instead she would wait. Wait for Rick to come home from patrol, wait until dinner was over, where she could talk to him alone as the rest of the home spent the remainder of the night out and about the community. Until then she would relax, relieved of her duties for the day, she allowed herself to take a warm and comforting shower. Allowing the heat of the droplets to cascade over her, over them both, as the stress of the day spilled out, leaving her warm, secure, and safe, if even for a moment. She soaped up, rinsed and spent some extra time gingerly rubbing the smooth area of her abdomen. Tracing small patterns along the muscle, remembering her first experience being pregnant. She smiled sadly in remembrance, hoping that this time things would turn out a little better.
As she descended down the stairs to find Rick she was hit with the memory of telling him.
She had stuck to her plan. After the dishes were done, after Carl had gone with Carol to an event at Deanna's, Daryl was still out recruiting with Aaron, she had gone about telling the man, the one she was now willing to admit she loved. They had laid together on the couch, her tucked snug against him. He had his arm wrapped around her waist, hand splayed along her stomach, and instead of mustering up the courage to actually tell him she just intertwined their fingers and stroked the top of his hand with her thumb. She leaned back against him, cocking her head back further to see him, and she saw how he looked at her. She saw her own eyes reflected back in his, seeing nothing but love and affection.
"You know I love you right?" He furrowed his brows in response. She felt him tense slightly beneath her.
"It's just, I don't want you to doubt that. I know I haven't said it before, but I do need you to know that. For a while now I've known. I couldn't, I didn't want it to happen." She tightened her grip on his hand. "Once everything started hitting the fan I gave up hope on finding anyone, I didn't want to. Didn't want to need anyone. But I do. I need you….and Carl, Judith." She brought their joined hands up to her mouth, giving his palm a quick peck.
"I need us to be together, a family, all of us." She returned their hands back to her stomach and gave a relieved sign. She relaxed back against him, head returning to his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart beating. He pulled her tighter to him, securing her as close as physically possible, before running his free hand slowly up and down the supple exposed skin of her belly. She hummed in response to the motions, feeling him smile against her as she did so.
"How long have you known?" She asked, stress gone, tone now teasing and playful.
"I've had my suspicions. You've been different lately, Carl's even noticed. You forget I've seen a pregnancy before?" He couldn't help but chuckle. "Figured I'd give you time. I'm glad you told me." He continued the massaging motions and planted a gentle kiss to the top of her head.
She smiled, remembering how nervous she'd been. Despite the sluggishness in her limbs, the cramping, and the sleeplessness, she knew she had somebody to turn to. Knew that she had a support system greater than she could have ever imagined. Sometimes she still couldn't believe how foolish she'd been, so scared to tell him.
She had no need to search for him. As soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs she could see the mass of curly hair that she'd grown to love. He was seated on the couch, a book in hand, flipping through the pages every so often. She stood there, admiring him, loving him. Smiling at the scene before her.
"Still can't sleep?" Damn, she must have been humming again.
Instead of answering she made her way over to his side, kissed his temple, and curled up against his side.
"Do you want me to head up with you, or?" She cut him off with a finger to the lips.
"No. Just stay here. I don't have as much wiggle room." He switched positions, now wrapping his arm around her, throwing a blanket over them both.
"He's still kicking!" She moaned and he replied with a hearty laugh. She couldn't suppress her groan.
"No you don't get to do that. It's not funny! Why don't you try sleeping with a little soccer player inside you?"
He pulled her closer still, pulling her onto his lap, moving her shirt up ever so slightly so he could rest his hand along the protruding belly.
She hummed in response to the warmth of his hand, curled against him more and pulled even more blanket onto herself.
"I'm cold too you know!" He mock moaned.
"So help me God Rick I will cut that hand off if you take anymore," She said as she pulled more yet onto her and the little one.
"Humpf, fine. You say that now but in a few months you'd miss it," He replied, tone soaking with innuendo.
She would've gone to elbow him but he jumped back in response to the tap tap of the little feet beneath his fingers.
"He really is a little soccer star isn't he?" His voice was so full of amazement she could scream.
"Mm hmm. It's what I've been trying to tell you," She said as more tiny kicks landed.
"Let's try and put him to bed." Rick covered her from head to toe with the fluffy blanket and massaged her belly, attempting to lull the little one. He traced patterns along her fleshy stomach and hummed along to "Carry on My Wayward Son," and within minutes both Mommy and baby were out.
"Michonne?" He whispered. "Michonne?" A little louder this time.
Once he made sure she was out, he gingerly tucked her into his arms, carried her up to bed, and made sure she was wrapped up good. He lay next to her, continuously rubbing the little one they both loved so dearly, before drifting off himself, but not before her graced her with a peck to the forehead and a whisper of "I love you too."