A/N Last night's episode had such an emotional impact on me that I composed this right before I went to bed. I literally got out of bed and started to scribble this down, because my heart was aching and overwhelmed with so many emotions. I still can't get over that episode. I didn't ship Lorick until Season 3, (where I fell in love with it, actually).

Note that when I wrote this, I wrote it in a style that seemed to fit the situation. It seems thrown together with run-on and fast-paced sentences, and those are exactly the kind of feelings I associate with this piece.

This is for one of my best friends, the only one out of all of them who understands the pain I'm going through: Nathalia.

edit: 11/07/12

Now. Not now. Why now? It can't be now. Now now now. The baby's coming and the baby's coming now, and all he can do is hold her and comfort her and watch her as she struggles for the baby and herself. And as she cries he cries, and as she gasps he gasps, and as she sweats he sweats, and he is sweating so much his mouth runs dry. She props herself up as high as she can, but the color is draining from her face, and her knees are wobbling, and he catches her even though she doesn't fall.

She says she's fine. He knows she's not and he tells her she's not, and she tells him he's right. He sees her hands trembling even though she's trying to fight it, and he takes her hand and he squeezes it and looks her dead in the eye. Then there's a look on her face. Shit shit shit then there's that look on her face, and his chest tightens and his heart pounds and soon it becomes hard for him to swallow.

He says she can't do it. She says she must do it. She says there's no other way but to do it. She says time's running out and she tries to lie down but he won't let her, and goddammit Rick why won't you let her? She says they've got to do it and they've got to do it now, and he doesn't say a word as he watches her lie down.

He turns away as Maggie gets the knife. And he can't watch but he must watch, and he's torn inside when she softly speaks his name. And he kneels beside her, one hand intertwining with hers and the other stroking her hair.

Maggie's shaking and he's shaking but they're told to go through with the procedure. But she's not shaking, not anymore. There's a subtle calmness about her face, but it suddenly switches and now she's practically yelling for Maggie to slit open her belly already. Maggie refuses and refuses but is eventually worn down. Maggie's got the knife in her hand, and her eyes are red and stingy and full of hot tears.

Just like his eyes, but not like hers. Hers are brave. Hers are strong. But now hers have tears streaming down her cheeks as she pours her heart out while his ruptures and withers and sinks. Then there are countless I love yous and countless I'm sorrys, and his hand is clenching hers so tensely she nearly hisses. Her other hand lifts up to caress his cheek, and to run through his hair, and to rub that one spot of blood on his forehead. His eyes are so wet with tears he doesn't notice Maggie slice through her stomach, but he notices when there's a distraught scream, her scream. Her agony is his agony, and his voice breaks as he hoarsely calls out her name.

Then time stops.

Then time skips. He remains beside her just like before, only this time the floor is painted with her blood. Then it's goodnight my love and no no no, and he doesn't even notice the baby in Maggie's arms as his mind shatters, as he falls on his knees and crashes to the floor.

fin.