Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters or story lines.
NaNo WarmUp exercise, based on a request I received on Tumblr. I'm taking more requests for these fics until NaNo rolls around, so if you've got one, head over to my Tumblr (iaintbegginwho) and drop it in my ask box!
Her grip was tight around his hand that he could feel her nails leaving little half-moons on his skin. Her skin was slick with sweat and his was, too, and those salty beads of water pooled together between their palms. Rick's heart clenched with every painful contraction that ripped through Lori's body.
"You're doin' great, Lori, you're fine," Hershel kept saying over and over again. Carol, standing over them and leaning awkwardly between Rick and the wall to swipe a cool rag over Lori's forehead, offered a small smile which faded when Hershel made a sudden noise at the back of his throat. Carol met his eyes and nodded, hurrying to his side.
"What's wrong?" Lori asked, breathless. Her fingers squeezed Rick's, her worry a palpable surge between them. "My baby," she said, "is-"
"The baby's alright," Carol said even as she moved to gather supplies. Rick's heart pounded hard against his chest. He could feel's Lori's pulse, too, thudding against her veins.
"Th-then what's wrong?" Rick asked.
"The baby's breech," Hershel was quick to explain. Carol was back beside him in mere moments. Rick glanced over the items in her hands- a towel, a small knife. He glanced to Carol's left to see that she'd set up all the materials he remember Hershel saying he'd need to do sutures.
"C-section, then," Lori said, a statement rather than a question as she, too, put the pieces together. Her breathing was heavy and she loosened her hold on Rick long enough to shift herself into a less uncomfortable position. She reached down with her free hand to lift her shirt away from her swollen belly when Carol reached up to take her wrist.
"We just have everything ready as a precaution," she assured. "We can keep going naturally for now."
"Can't that hurt the baby?" Rick asked, squeezing his wife's hand. He and Lori both looked from Carol to Hershel, the question swimming in their eyes. Hershel pressed his lips into a thin line as his eyes flitted back and forth between the couple.
"It'll be safer for you," he said finally, his eyes landing on Lori's. "But if there are too many complications-"
"-we'll be ready," Carol finished. Her hand slipped from Lori's wrist to her calf, squeezing gently. Lori nodded and then her breath hitched.
"Lori," Rick gasped.
"I gotta push," she breathed, her free hand desperately seeking purchase on the sheets beneath her as she gritting her teeth and bore down before anybody could protest. Heavy pants escaped her pale lips and beads of sweat rolled down her temples. She cried out between gasps of pain, eyes closed and brow creased as one hand white knuckled the bedding and the other, her husband's hand.
"Good, Lori, good," Hershel encouraged. Rick bowed his head next to hers, whispering a thousand nonsensical reassurances into her ear until her body went slack, relaxed on the mattress.
"Okay," she said in a hushed whisper, more to herself than to anybody else in the room as her chest heaved. "Okay," she said again when Rick kissed her temple. When she opened her eyes again it took her a few moments to focus. She looked to her husband. "How long's it been now?"
Rick, who had been trying and, in all the excitement and worry, failing to keep track of the time, faltered and was grateful when Carol offered up, "Coming up on five hours now."
Five hours? Had it really been that long? It seemed like just a second ago that Rick had heard Lori's cry. He'd run in like a madman, heart drumming a rapid rhythm against his rib cage as a million images flashed through his mind. With the way she'd yelled he half-expected a walker to be in her cell, gnawing at her. The relief that came with the knowledge of her water breaking had been short lived as he started shouting for Hershel. Carl had been frantic beside his father, following him and demanding to know, "What's happening? Is mom okay? Was she bit? What's going on?"
"Go with Daryl," was all Rick was able to say as Carol flew into the room. She swooped into action, positioning Lori the way Hershel had told her to weeks ago while the farmer hobbled into the room on his crutches.
"But Dad-"
"The baby's coming, Carl," Rick had told the boy, rushed. He paused for a brief moment to drop onto his knee in front of his son, both hands on his boy's surprisingly muscular shoulders. "It's gonna be alright. Mom's gonna be fine, okay? We're takin' care of her. I need you to go with Daryl."
The aforementioned hunter had been standing over them. The flash of concern that crossed his rugged face was replaced quickly with understanding and he nodded.
"C'mon, kid," he said, motioning for Carl to follow him. "Take yer gun. Yer ma's jus' fine, but she might catch some walkers' attention." Carl seemed conflicted, torn between being the child who needed his mother to the man who needed to get to work. "Gotta keep 'er safe," Daryl urged. Rick nodded his agreement.
"Go on," he urged. From her place on the bed, Lori called out, "Baby, it's okay."
Carl asked his father to come get him when everything was over and then he trailed after Daryl, gun in hand. The two grabbed T-Dog on their out, and Rick could hear them devising a plan for walker control in the more shady areas around the cell block. Things had been quiet recently, but they all knew that the cries of a woman in labor would be enough to catch the attention of a few straggling corpses.
Maggie had been there helping Carol and Hershel set everything up. Lori kept assuring everybody that she was alright. Glenn had been on watch and he came to check in after leaving his post. After a brief talk with Maggie, he decided to go on a run for baby supplies.
"We haven't been able to get much," Maggie agreed. "I'll back you up."
At first, Beth had been bustling in and out of the room, getting whatever anybody needed and bringing food and water to them. Eventually Lori asked if the girl could gather what baby supplies they did have. She hadn't returned since, seeming to understand that Lori didn't want so many people hovering over her as contractions rippled through her and her labor carried on.
Lori nodded and swallowed. "Carl took about-" she paused, both to breath and to think, "-seven, before they had t'cut me open." Her thumb, the pad of which was calloused thanks to the new lifestyle they'd been thrust into, stroked the back of Rick's hand. "Remember?"
Rick smiled at the thought. "Yeah," he said. He remembered, alright. He remembered how nervous he'd been as a first-time father, watching with wide eyes as doctors and nurses breezed and in out of the room and swarmed around his wife. He remembered how his heart dropped when they announced that Lori would need a c-section and how the doctor had assured him and over and over again that his wife and baby would be just fine.
Ever since then he'd always imagined being much calmer by the time his second child came around. If only someone could have told him that his second would come as the world he once knew crumbled to bits around him.
Lori gasped, then, and Rick was jolted from his reverie.
"Alright, Lori," Hershel coached. "This could be it."
She was biting her lip so hard Rick thought he saw a speck of blood blossom on it. Her nails dug deeper and deeper into his skin until he sure those little half-moon marks would still be there as this baby group, and one day he'd take them aside and tell them, "Look, this happened because of you, so I won't have you back-talking me, understand?".
"You're doing great, Lori, you're almost there," Carol encouraged, her words nearly drowned out by the vocalizations of Lori's pain.
"Carol, the towel," Hershel said, nudging the woman with his elbow. Carol nodded, swiping the clean towel off the cart beside her. Hershel held up one hand, stained with blood, to tell her to wait. "Alright, Lori, I've got a leg," Hershel said. Lori didn't seem to be listening. She groaned loudly and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. "That's it, keep pushing, come on," he said. Rick felt his heart rate escalate as the farmer coached his wife. "Okay," Hershel said. Lori's voice seemed to fade out. "Don't lose steam on us now," Hershel said. "You're almost there."
"Hear that, Lor?" Rick whispered into her ear. "C'mon, you can do this."
She cried out and Hershel gasped and Carol looped the towel around the baby's hips and Rick's heart just kept hammering and hammering and hammering hard in his chest.
"We've got her, Lori," Carol said excitedly.
"I-It's-?" Rick could barely form words.
"It's a girl," Hershel announced.
"A girl," Rick breathed, astonished. He could feel tears pricking at his eyes. "Lori, we've got a little girl."
Hershel took the towel from Carol's hands and eased it along the infant's hips, using it to gain traction to get the child out. "Alright," he said. "Alright, Lori, almost done," he said as he gently turned the baby in his hands. "Here we go," he said and in the next moment baby girl Grimes was writhing in his hands.
"She's not crying," Rick observed almost immediately. Lori's grip on him tightened again, her body had not lost any of its tension. "Hershel, she's-" But Hershel and Carol were already on it. The farmer had the baby lying flat against his palm as Carol's hand alternated between gentle taps and smooth circles on the child's back until a little hiccup bubbled from the infant's mouth, followed by a startling cry.
"Oh, my God," Lori sighed. She was sitting up against the pillows that had been bunched behind her back for hours now. She reached out as Carol quickly swaddled the baby in the towel and settled the child against the mother's chest. "Oh, my God."
"She's beautiful," Carol said, beaming. Rick stared in awe at the tiny child as her wailing screams turned into gentle coos as she nuzzled against Lori. He reached out tentatively and touched the child's cheek.
"Rick," Lori said. He hardly realized that she'd finally let go of his hand entirely, this fact only registering when her soft fingers lighted upon his cheek. "Rick, you're crying."
He looked from his new daughter to his wife, suddenly aware of the wetness on his face, salty tears mingling with salty sweat, heavy pants of relief pushing out of his lungs. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. Instead, he leaned forward and, as the sun rose outside, thin slivers of its light sneaking in through the barred windows of that dim, dank cell, he caught his wife's tired mouth in the first kiss they'd shared in months.
