Wake Up Zachy: A One-Shot Series
Chapter 51
Remembering Perfection
Background: Figure it out. When in doubt, go with the gut.
Cammie's POV
"Zach, damn it, can't you take it seriously?" I yelled, walking towards, well, nowhere.
"Baby," Zach said with a laugh, pulling my arm in an attempt to pull me into him, "Where are you going?"
"I'm going . . . going . . . um . . ." I muttered, still walking, turning back and forth every few seconds.
"Babe," Zach said, finally managing to grab my arm and pull me towards him.
"What?" I asked, hitting his chest as he pulled me closer to him. "What, Zach? What are you going to say now? I'm tired of this. I'm tired of nothing changing. I'm tired of feeling like I'm the only one who cares. Do you? Do you even care?"
"Cam," Zach said, laughing again, "I love you."
"That's not an answer!" I snapped, pushing even harder against his chest, my hands slamming into the hard planes of his torso, without him even flinching.
"Why not?" Zach asked, an amused smirk falling onto his face.
"Because . . . because . . . it's just not, okay? You can't . . . you can't just say you love me every time we get in a fight."
"But I love you," Zach said, pressing a light kiss to my neck as I continued to wiggle around in his grip.
"Then why can't you ever take it seriously? Ever take us seriously? I mean, do you ever see us getting married? Having kids? Do you want kids? How many? What about names? I mean, Zach, we've been dating for, what, 4 years? We act the same as we did all those years ago. And I can't do it anymore. I can't live with this. I can't live with someone who laughs anytime anything serious comes up. I can't push away the feeling I get when you do. I can't pretend that I don't think you love me. And I can't . . . I just can't do this anymore."
But Zach just laughed again, simply saying, "Meghan."
I just starred at Zach for a minute, wondering if he had hit his head one too many times.
"For our baby," he elaborated, "But first we'd have a boy named Wes, just a year older than her, so he can protect her. Then we'll have a girl, just like her beautiful mother. And she'd have my ears, and your hair. She'd be perfect. And I'd have to keep all the boys away from her. She'd be a heartbreaker. And when the time was right, she'd go off to Gallagher. And Blackthorne will have an exchange, and she'll meet the perfect boy. He'll be a gentleman, but with a little bit of a bad side. Cowboys and angles, right? And he'd kiss her, in front of the entire school. And he'd protect her through some crazy attacks. And he'd open the door for her. And he'd take her on a date when they get to go to town, but it won't end up with a crazy test at the end. And in the very, very far future, he'll come to me, and he'll ask me, get down on his hands and knees, to marry our daughter. And I'll make him prove himself, make sure he's worthy of our little angle. And he'll prove me right. And they get married, with me sending her off, you by my side. And it will start all over again. He'll tell her he loves her when she gets mad. And he'll want a little girl, just like our daughter, who he'll protect with his life."
"Meghan?" I whispered, tears in my eyes as his arms held me close.
"Meghan and Wes." He agreed, kissing away my tears as I cried into his chest.
"Babe?" Zach called from outside the bathroom. "Everything okay?"
"Zach," I mumbled reaching for the door handle.
"Yeah, Gallagher Girl, what do you need baby?"
"Meghan and Wes." I said, reaching for the handle again with my empty hand, watching as it swung open to reveal a confused Zach.
"Meghan and Wes?" he asked. I just held up the small stick in my hands, the two lines answering him for me as he smiled, "Meghan and Wes."
"Here, Mom," I said, grabbing the box from her as she climbed down from the last couple of steps.
"Thanks. Sorry about this. I totally forgot about hanging the stockings and stuff. Joe and I have been trying to make some new traditions, this year."
"It's fine," I answered, walking to the living room where the Christmas tree was, "it's not like we missed it. It is still Christmas Eve."
She smiled as Zach came out of the kitchen, rubbing his hands together. "Pizza's on its way."
My mom smiled, heading into the room before me and holding the door open.
"Babe," Zach said, taking the box from me before I could take a step, "I got it. You shouldn't be lifting heavy things."
"Zach," I said with a roll of my eyes, "I'm pregnant, not dying."
Zach smiled, his smirk falling away from his eyes as he bent down so his head was level with my stomach, "Hear that, Baby? Your Mom is pregnant, not dying."
"Zach," I mumbled, smiling as he lifted my shirt up with his free hand and placed a kiss on my slightly swollen stomach.
"She thinks she should be able to carry the box," he said, his breath fanning out across my skin, raising Goosebumps, "but she doesn't realize how amazing you are."
With that he stood up, letting my shirt fall back down and pecking my lips. "You're carrying my offspring. That is a full time job. No lifting boxes of any sort." He told me, walking through the door and signaling that the conversation was over.
"Fine by me," I muttered, walking after him.
I placed one hand on my stomach, muttering to the baby growing there, "You're daddy sure is crazy sometimes."
I leaned into Zach's side, my eyes watering as we watched the movie in silence.
"Cam," Zach groaned, handing me yet another tissue, "this isn't even a sad part."
"I know," I wailed, blowing my nose unattractively into the flimsy paper, "but he's just so . . . so amazing. Emotional."
"I'd hardly call Ryan Gosling amazing. He's more of a douche."
"Zach," I said, a warning tone seeping out through my voice, "Ryan Gosling is perfection. Basically sex in human form."
He scoffed. "Babe, I am sex in human form. Ryan Gosling doesn't even deserve to be on that list. He's probably gay."
I huffed, getting up of the couch, before heading into our bedroom, slamming the door behind me.
"Babe," Zach said, knocking on the door with the back of his knuckles, a slight laugh mixing in with his voice. "Open the door, Baby."
"Shut up," I snapped from where I sat on the floor, the side of the door brushing lightly against my shoulder as he eased the door open.
"Babe," Zach whispered, coming to sit down next to me on the floor and wrapping me up in his arms as I cried into his shirt. "We've had this discussion before, you know?"
"I know," I moaned, closing my eyes tighter and attempting to bury my head even farther into his well-defined chest. "I'm sorry I'm so crazy."
"Baby," Zach said, prying me away from his chest gently and placing a light kiss on my lips before pulling back again to look me in the eyes. "You're not crazy."
"I know," I muttered as Zach got up, sticking a hand out to help me stand up. I placed one hand on the ground, the other on my back as I used my arm strength and Zach's help to stand up. My intruding stomach brushed lightly against his as let out a small groan, "just hormonal. Which is basically the same thing."
Zach laughed, rolling his eyes as he headed back to the coach with my in tow.
"Zach," I said, poking his arm and shifting my weight so I rolled a little more to my left side. When he didn't answer, I tried again, poking up a little higher on his arm, "Zach."
He grunted, letting his arm drop from where it was wrapped around me, "what is it, Baby?" he asked without even opening his eyes, clearly not wanting to wake up.
"Can you go get me some ice cream?"
If Zach had been more awake, he probably would have laughed at my tone, which resembled that of a seven-year-old trying to get something they wanted, but he wasn't, so he didn't.
He groaned again, flipping from his back to his side so he could glance at the red digits lighting up our alarm clock.
Flopping back into his original position, he took one look at my face before mumbling and getting up. "You're lucky I like you."
I laughed then, sitting up even more than I already was.
"Coconut?" Zach asked, slipping on the pair of jeans he had been wearing yesterday and grabbing his wallet off the night stand.
I nodded eagerly.
Coconut had to be the worst flavor of ice cream, but Zach's mini-me sure did love of and I remember Zach making fun of me the first time I told him I wanted it. I had gone from despising the ice cream with every part of my being, to inhaling it like it was oxygen and necessary for my survival.
Zach laughed, finally waking up enough to join the rest of us as normal human beings.
"Be back soon, Babe." As soon as he said that, he placed a kiss on my eager lips and headed out of the room.
I smiled as I heard him grabbing his keys off the hook and the door slamming quietly behind him.
A few seconds later, I was practically jumping from my spot on the bed thinking about ice cream when I felt it.
A tight twisting feeling in my side that had me bending forward, the pain making my mind swirl. I clenched in my side, feeling the pain shoot up even more and tried desperately to make it stop. A few seconds later the pain dispersed and went away like nothing even happened.
A few minutes later it happened again, and I got that strange sense of deja-vu, pulling me back to those times I was a teenage and I blackout after fighting my way through some crazy-ass attack. My head swirled, my side tightening even more and all of a sudden it was wet.
Like wicked wet.
In my bed.
I gasped, half from the pain taking over my side and half from the fact that my water just broke.
"Zach," I managed to choke out, suffering through yet another contraction, "I think it's happening?"
"What is, Babe?" Zach answered distractedly and I could almost picture him, one hand on the wheel, the other pressing his phone to his ear as he attempted to make a turn. "I'll be home soon, Babe. Just another minutes or two."
"I mean, it's happening, Zach. My water broke."
The phone was silent for a moment and I almost started worrying about the fact that Zach was operating a motor vehicle until he finally responded, repeating back to me what I had just said, "you're water broke?"
"Mhmm," I answered, pushing myself of the bed on waddling towards the chair in our room.
"Like, you're water, water, or just like a glass or –"
"Zach," I laughed, effectively cutting him off, "like the water surrounding you're son or daughter. That water."
"Son," he answered my distracted once again, but this time I could tell it had sunk in. "Alright, Babe, just hang in there, okay? I'm right around the corner. Less than a minute. Okay, Baby?"
"Alright," I said, before saying a quick goodbye and hanging up.
I managed to grab my bag and drag it over to the door where I waited for Zach.
The time ticked on and soon enough 10 minutes had passed, and my contractions were about a minute apart.
"Come on, Zach," I muttered as I listened to the ring from my mobile phone. Once I heard the obnoxious start to his voice mail, I groaned, resisting the urge to chuck my phone across the room.
I quickly called the police of in my town, telling them my situation and soon enough an ambulance was hauling me away and I was having my kid while they drove me to the hospital.
I cried the whole time, my eyes filling with tears as my child was brought into the world without Zach by my side.
When I finally though I had cried it all out, my mother walked into the hospital room, two cops flanking behind her. I swallowed hard and she held me as the officers told me the news, their words flying through my ears but the information not really sinking in, "I'm sorry, Miss . . . there was an accident . . . about 50 yards from your home . . . the drunk driver . . . Mr. Goode's car was hit from the side going 50 miles per hour . . . it's too late for the driver . . . we did all we could."
And my mom held me, her arms wrapping around me, reminding me of the way Zach's never would again.
Tears ran down my face in constant streams, never stopping. Not even when they brought in my precious baby boy, his small body just reminded me of his father. His black hair was like a mop on top of his head, his skin graced with that permant tan showing off his Italian side, and most importantly his eyes.
The two little orbs of green that had the perfect amount of gold to them.
They would have matched Zach's perfectly.
And so I cried.
I cried as my mother took him into her arms.
I cried as the nurse sent me an apologetic look.
I cried as I saw the shape of a body being rolled down the hallway, a white cloth pulled up and over the head of the victim.
I just cried.
"Cammie," a voice said, pulling me out of my day dream and I blinked, looking at the gorgeous boy waving his hand in front of my face.
The boy was a stunning sight, standing around 6 feet 2 inches, his black hair styled messy, and his golden flaked green orbs staring at me intently, that ever-present smirk settling on his face.
"What did I tell you about calling me Cammie?" I asked the boy, laughing as I turned to start pushing the cart again.
"Sorry, Mom," the boy shrugged sheepishly, his shoulders sagging as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "But you were zoning out in the grocery story. I thought rules didn't apply anymore."
I rolled my eyes, reaching out to hit his arm with the back of my hand lightly. "The rules always apply, Wes. You know that."
"I know, Mom," he said, rolling his own pair of eyes. "Except for on the field?" he asked me with a wink.
I shoved him a little hard, "What am I going to do with."
"Send me to see Grandpa Solomon?" he asked, and to that I laughed out loud.
"Maybe. If you're good." I told him, grabbing a carton of milk as we passed by.
"You never answered my question," he told me, as we turned down yet another isle.
"Except for on the field." I replied, stopping to look at the tomatoes.
I could almost feel him smirking from beside me so I quickly added, "within reason," to my answer. "And you know if it's not necessary, Solomon won't hesitate to beat your ass."
My son laughed at that, nodding his head and saying "good old Joe," but you could see the look of admiration he gave his grandmother.
And I swear, in that moment, he looked just like his father.
He looked just like that guy I used to know.
And I'm glad someone was saving his legacy.
And as a mother, and a girl who lost the one she loved, I couldn't have been more proud.
A/N: Hey.
Let me know what you thought.
Sorry it's been so long.
#randomWednesdayupdatesthreemonthslate
