Christmas came and went at the prison and the beginning of the new year was marked by Glenn and Maggie's wedding officiated by Hershel and attended by their group before they toasted to the happy couple with a small glass each of wine that Carol had found on a run with Maggie the week before. At eight and a half months pregnant, Tamara went to bed early and barely stirred when Daryl joined her later that night. She did, however, wake up long enough to kiss him goodbye when he got up before dawn to go out on a group hunting trip.
Grimacing, the small brunette struggled into a sitting position when a sharp pain in her lower abdomen took her breath away.
"Carol!" her call was high and frightened and the older woman was at her side panicking a minute later. When she explained what was wrong Carol smiled, "You're going into labour."
Choking back her fear and tears, Tamara grabbed her best friend's hand and gripped it tightly, "I need Daryl."
Those were the last words she said for the next hour. She sat silently on her and Daryl's bed and breathed through the small contractions as Carol got Hershel and Dr. S and alerted the others to what was happening.
While Carol was out issuing orders, Tamara looked up after a contraction that was a little stronger than the others she had breathed through to see Carl standing just inside the doorway of her cell, his eyes filled with unshed tears and complete terror on his face.
Tamara had tried to get passed what he had done in the woods the day the Governor had tried to take the prison but their relationship had been different. But the sight of the young boy looking so lost and scared had Tamara reaching out to him.
He came and sat curled up silently beside her holding her hand through a couple of her contractions before he spoke, "Don't die."
Relaxing as a contraction ebbed away, Tamara wrapped her arm around his thin shoulders, "I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. I promise."
"How-how do you know that?" Carl asked in a small voice. "Mom-." he cut himself off and looked down at his hands lying clenched in his lap. "Mom wasn't meant to die, but she did. Lots of people would still be alive but we're here and the walkers are out there and-and…" he trailed off and blinked back tears.
Tamara caught his chin in the palm of her hand and turned his face up to hers, looking him in the eyes, "I've got too much to live for now. This isn't gonna kill me. You want ta know why?" Carl nodded, his grey gaze vulnerable. "Because I'm not gonna leave you, or your sister, or this baby, or anyone else, alright?"
The young boy nodded once more before giving her a hug. He then got up off the bed and with a small smile offered to get Carol before leaving the cell at Tamara's grateful nod.
Tamara was pacing frantically in her and Daryl's cell a few hours later, Carol sitting on the edge of the bed near her, a worried crease between her eyebrows. Tamara hadn't said a word since Carol had come back to her cell after Carl had called her and the small brunette had panicked and sent Hershel and Dr. S out of the room begging Carol not to let them in, she didn't want any men examining her. Carol was starting to worry about her stress levels and what it was doing to the baby.
"Sit down, Tamara. Rick and Tyreese have gone to find him. You need to stay calm," the older woman said praying that Daryl would get back soon so that Tamara would at least calm down if not let Hershel or Dr. S examine her.
The black haired woman turned tear-filled green eyes on her best friend, "I can't do this by myself, Carol. I can't do this without Daryl."
"Hey, hey," Carol murmured gently, wrapping the heavily pregnant woman in a tight hug just as she grimaced as another contraction hit. "Rick's gonna bring him back, sweetheart. That man of yours is gonna be back here freaking out while he holds you're hand and you cuss him out soon enough."
Tamara tried to hold on to that thought but as the minutes dragged on and the pain got worse, she felt that hope slip further and further away.
Carol bathed her forehead with wet cloths and tried to persuade her to let Hershel or the doctor into the room but Tamara wouldn't have it. Even the thought of letting any man near her while she was in so much pain and without Daryl there made her feel sick.
When she finally fell into a doze, Carol slipped out of the cell to talk to Hershel and Dr. S. "She doesn't want anyone in there, not even you, Hershel," she told the old man. "She's scared to death of having this baby but she's terrified she's gonna have it before Daryl gets back here," glancing back at the younger woman sleeping fitfully, Carol rubbed her arms a little, "She's so wound up I can't even tell if the baby's okay she hardly stays still long enough for me to check."
Hershel leaned thoughtfully on his crutch, everyone was worried about Tamara and the baby and he wasn't sure if it would help any if he or Dr. S tried to persuade her to let them in to the cell either.
A strangled groan came from the cell and they all turned to see Tamara curled on her side breathing through a strong contraction.
Carol turned to Hershel and the doctor, "Pray," she muttered before rushing back into the cell.
The next half an hour crawled by. Tamara barely noticed when Maggie and Beth traded turns with Carol to sit beside her and hold her hand or press cool, wet cloths to her forehead, shoulders and chest. In between the waves of pain she would sit silently and try not to think of Daryl not being there or worry that none of the men had made it back to the prison yet.
The sun had reached its peak and Tamara was laying propped up on pillows and rolled up towels breathing hard and clenching her jaw through another birthing pain when, just as the pain crested and then started to ebb away, running feet were heard echoing off the cement block walls.
Daryl skidded to a stop just inside the cell doorway and Tamara took one look at him covered in walker blood, his gore-covered hunting knife still in his hand and his hair slick with sweat, and she burst into tears, her hands covering her face.
Stepping forward to go to her, Daryl was stopped by Carol and Hershel.
"You need to wash, son," Hershel told him as gently as possible seeing the full-blown panic in the younger man's eyes.
Daryl glanced at him and then turned back to Tamara but Carol tugged on his arm, "It's only safe for her and the baby if you're clean, Daryl. Let's go." She managed to lead him reluctantly from the cell and to the showers to wash.
Tamara had barely calmed down enough to be hiccupping into her hands when he got back. She felt the bed dip and then Daryl was murmuring softly into her ear telling her to scoot forward. When she had he slipped into the space behind her and helped her sit as comfortably as possible back against his chest. He was barefoot and dressed in only a pair of black sweatpants and a black wife-beater. Beth and Maggie had already stripped the bed and put down towels and Tamara was dressed in a cotton dress that swamped her even with her large pregnant belly.
"'M sorry darlin'," Daryl whispered his arms wrapping around Tamara as she leaned heavily against him.
Lacing her fingers with his, Tamara tensed, grunted and gasped through another contraction and then collapsed back against him panting. "Don't leave again, please," she whimpered her eyes closed and her body trembling with exertion.
Daryl squeezed her fingers gently as she laced her hand over his splayed on her belly, "I ain't leavin' 'Mara."
"You feel like pushing now, Mama?" Carol asked soothingly from where she was kneeling at the bottom of the mattress.
Tamara nodded a little fearfully and then bore down.
The rest of the group was waiting in the open area near the catwalk stairs. Rick was pacing with Judith held against his chest, keeping a close eye on Carl as the boy sat with Michonne and Maggie looking worried and nervous. Glenn was running in and out of the cell block keeping the others in Cell Block C up to date with what was happening. A baby being born was big news in the prison.
The nervous energy in the room suddenly broke when the sound of a tiny infant's wail floated down from Tamara and Daryl's cell.
Tyreese broke into a grin so big that when Carl saw it he couldn't help but smile too.
It was a while later that Daryl came down the steps of the catwalk, a small pink bundle in his arms. The rest of the group moved forward to meet him at the foot of the stairs.
"She's beautiful," smiled Beth peering over Carl's shoulder.
"She's so small. Smaller than Judith was," Glenn added.
"What's her name?" Rick asked lifting Judith to a more comfortable position in his arms.
Daryl brushed the blanket back from the little baby girl's squashed face with shaky fingers, his usually intense eyes soft as he looked down at the sleeping bundle, "Emma Cherokee-rose Dixon."
Letting the others ooh and ahh over the little girl for a while Daryl then gently hitched her up against his chest and went back up to the cell he shared with Tamara passing Hershel, Dr. S, and Carol on the way.
Tamara was lying down in the bed when he walked in. She opened her eyes sleepily at the sound of his booted feet on the cement floor.
"Hey," she smiled softly her eyes dropping from his face to their daughter, "How is she?"
"Lil Bit's fine, 'Mara," he smiled, "Just sleep, darlin'." He sat down on the mattress beside her, carefully laying the tiny baby down between them and then moving to lay down facing Tamara, their bodies curved protectively around their child.
Tamara tucked the blanket a little more securely around the sleeping baby and then smiled up at Daryl, "I love you so much Daryl Dixon, you and our little girl."
"Love yah too, darlin'," Daryl tucked a lock of sweat-dampened hair behind her ear.
Wiping a stray tear from her cheek, Tamara looked down at the little baby they had waited so long for, "Mama and Daddy love yah, my sweet-pea, my little Emmy."
