AN: We're super close on this one. We're looking at probably one/two more chapter(s) and an epilogue.
If anyone has any suggestions for Baby Girl Dixon's name, let me know!
I hope you enjoy the chapter! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!
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"Michonne," Ezekiel said.
What followed was a long beat of silence that felt like it stretched on for hours. Michonne knew, of course, that it was only the span of a heartbeat or two—at least for people whose hearts were beating at the normal speed.
"If you don't invite me in soon," Michonne offered, "then—I'm going to have to go home, and I'm not sure I can look at you for at least a week or two."
"Of course—I didn't mean…come in," Ezekiel said, stepping aside so that Michonne could come into his house.
It was warm and smelled of the wood fire that was burning in the fireplace and of Ezekiel. There was a hint of something else—tiger, surely, though Michonne had never imagined, before, that she would someday know what a tiger as a housecat might smell like.
Shiva lie on the floor, on her side, in front of the fire. She raised her head when Michonne came in and let out a low growl. It sounded more like a question than a threat.
"Michonne is our guest," Ezekiel said, addressing the tiger. Shiva dropped back, choosing sleep over greeting a guest.
"Would you—like to have a seat?" Ezekiel asked once Michonne had shucked her way out of her coat, hung it on the rack by the door, and pulled off her boots. Michonne held up the bottle she was carrying tucked under her arm—homemade wine from their supplies. Ezekiel smiled. "Please, sit. I'll bring some glasses."
Michonne did sit. She chose a spot on the couch—it was the spot she often occupied when they were sitting in the living room and chatting. Ezekiel returned quickly with some glasses, and he lit a candle and placed it on the coffee table in front of the couch before he sat.
"Your electricity isn't working?" Michonne asked.
"I thought that—we might prefer the natural light this evening. I often find it more relaxing, myself," Ezekiel admitted, pouring the wine. "Now—are you going to tell me to what do I owe the honor of your visit?"
"If you're sincerely asking me that," Michonne said, "then—maybe I owe you an apology. Maybe I've misunderstood some of the…conversations we've had and the—the time we've spent together. It's not every night I wade through the snow to visit someone."
Ezekiel handed Michonne a glass, and he took one for himself. For a moment, he looked at the glass in his hand instead of looking at her.
The past two weeks there had been no shortage of hand touches and smiles when eyes met. There had been quite a few times where Michonne had heard "I'll see you home" and "May I be permitted to carry a lady's things?" And even though Michonne regularly told Ezekiel to drop the King act—leading to him taking it up less and less in her presence now—she still found that she was smiling a lot more than she once had, and her face ached with the almost forgotten feeling of long stretches spent sustaining a smile.
"You'll understand if I'm reluctant to get my hopes up," Ezekiel offered, finally bringing is eyes up to meet Michonne's.
The smile was there, almost instantly appearing on her face, as it had many times before, and Michonne didn't try to swallow it back.
"You feel—alone," Michonne said. "I've been alone a long time. Neither of us wants to get hurt again, but…"
"But the winter is cold," Ezekiel said, filling in when Michonne's words had simply stopped.
"The winter is cold," Michonne echoed in agreement.
"And what of the spring?" Ezekiel asked, raising his eyebrows at Michonne.
"We'll see what the spring holds," Michonne said. "For now—Carol and Daryl have the children…and it's still snowing."
Ezekiel smiled and raised his wine glass, touching it to Michonne's.
"Here's to the winter," he said. "I shall not fear the thaw."
"Ezekiel…" Michonne said. "I didn't come here for the king."
He laughed and winked at her, moving closer to her on the couch.
"I know," he said. "I promise—it's just ordinary me for the rest of the night."
"Good," Michonne said, allowing herself to relax and snuggle in next to him. "Because…he happens to be my favorite."
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"OK…OK…it's OK. It's easing off now," Carol said, blowing out her breath as she started to relax a little.
Rubbing at her belly meant she bumped her hand against Judith's hands—both of them were planted on her belly as Carol sat on the edge of the bed and Judith sat beside her.
Daryl had brought one of the two rocking chairs they had acquired into the bedroom, and he was rocking himself with his foot while R.J. slept with his head on Daryl's shoulder. As soon as the contraction had stirred Carol from her reclining position in the bed to the sitting position on the side of the bed, he'd tensed up, but she'd assured him that one lone contraction was no need to worry.
Still, he was watching her like a hawk.
"She's moving," Judith announced.
"She is," Carol said. "She does not like those at all, does she?"
Carol could feel herself relaxing. Still, she intended to stay in her new position a few minutes before returning to the old one where she was reclining against the pillows.
"Do they hurt her?" Judith asked.
"No," Carol said. "No…they might…squeeze her a little. Like this…"
She leaned to the side and squeezed Judith against her, hugging her from the side. Excited by the affection, Judith laughed a little more loudly than she probably meant to, and Daryl shushed her from his seat. He'd only just relaxed enough to start rocking himself again instead of staring at Carol with absolute owl eyes.
"Careful you don't wake your brother up," Daryl said, his voice as low as it had been since R.J. had started to doze off.
"Do they hurt you?" Judith asked, almost whispering, as her hands went back to their almost incessant rubbing of Carol's belly.
Carol hesitated a moment. They were reading through the pregnancy book with Judith, and Michonne had already given the full go-ahead to share with her. She wanted Judith to be educated and aware—not sheltered. Still, for Judith every bit of this was magical, and not at all scary, and Carol still had the reservation of wanting to keep it magical without a single thing to frighten or worry the little girl.
Of course, if Judith had her way, she'd be allowed to venture in at least once or twice during the delivery of the baby girl, and Carol couldn't be sure that she could protect Judith's perceptions of things at that moment.
"No, not really," Carol said. "These don't. They aren't real contractions. They're—tight. They squeeze me here, some. Right in my tummy. But—they're not like the real ones."
"Why are they fake?"
"I have to get ready," Carol said. "My body has to get ready for her to be born."
"Gonna be a lotta work gettin' her born," Daryl offered from his spot. "They're like trainin' contractions."
Daryl had only learned about the Braxton Hicks contractions recently, and they still made him terribly nervous, but Siddiq had done a good job of explaining them to Daryl as "training contractions" in a way that, really, anyone could understand.
"So, these don't hurt. Not—really."
"The real ones do?" Judith asked sincerely.
Carol nodded.
"Yeah," she said. "A—a little bit. They do."
"A lil' bit?" Daryl asked. Carol eyed him. He laughed quietly. "I'ma hold you to that. Hurts a lil' bit."
She made a face at him, but she wasn't sincerely mad. He also didn't mean it that he'd hold her to anything. Carol was certain that, when it was time for their little one to make her debut, Daryl was going to be the one that needed the most medical attention of them all.
Carol turned her body and eased herself back into her position against the pillows. Judith scrambled around on the bed and took her position beside Carol. One hand came over to lazily stroke Carol's belly again. If Carol had learned anything from the few times that they'd kept Judith and R.J. for Michonne to have a little private time, she'd learned that Judith would fall asleep like this—rubbing her belly until she simply just drifted off. Carol's belly was, admittedly, sometimes sore the day after Judith visited, but she didn't have the heart to tell the girl that she needed to rest some. Instead of scolding her for the incessant petting, Carol cradled Judith the best she could and got her arranged to rest, reminding her quietly that before they had the big adventure of a surprise contraction, Judith was supposed to be sleeping, so she should at least close her eyes while she rubbed Carol's belly to help the baby get to sleep.
"You sure you OK?" Daryl asked as soon as Carol was settled. The baby was moving, and Carol touched her own fingers to the place where she could feel her daughter pushing back against her as she protested the confines of her limited space and the contraction that had disturbed her.
Carol gave him the best reassuring smile as she could.
"I'm fine," she said. "Just—in training."
He smiled softly before he swallowed it down.
"I can get Siddiq. Enid. It ain't no problem."
"Siddiq is probably sleeping. And—Enid is with Henry," Carol said. "And don't you dare interrupt them. They're talking about the wedding."
"Yeah—I bet that's what the hell they're doin'," Daryl commented. Carol only had to raise her eyebrows at him and barely move her head. "I'm just sayin'—it ain't like we go all the way out for weddings these days. What the hell is there to plan?"
"Enid is young, Daryl," Carol said, keeping her voice low since Judith's hand now just rested limply on her belly and her breathing was regular. "She wants something special. And I think they should have it."
"They should," Daryl said. "But—all I'm sayin' is that I bet your ass they ain't just plannin' for a weddin' right now. Not at this hour. And not alone in that house. I'm not dumb. And I sure as shit ain't senile enough to forget how that belly you got come about."
Carol smiled at the comment.
"This belly isn't going to be here for long," Carol said. "You know that, right? At least—not full. I'm afraid I may never lose it entirely. Not at my age."
"Don't worry about that," Daryl countered. "The only thing you're worryin' about—and I mean the only thing—is doin' whatever you need to do to build up your strength and energy for when she says it's time."
"We'll be ready," Carol assured him.
Daryl put his finger to his lips, and Carol focused on relaxing so that her body wouldn't tense and wake Judith. Carefully, Daryl stood up and left the room with R.J. A few minutes later, he practically tiptoed into the room and carefully extracted Judith from her spot next to Carol. She flinched a little as he lifted her, but she curled into him when he shushed her and rocked her, like a very large baby, before slipping out of the room with her.
When he returned, Carol was already under the cover waiting for him—her underwear dropped over the side of the bed. Daryl shucked his clothes off as he came, slipped under the cover on his side of the bed, and moved as close to Carol as possible, taking Judith's spot from before. His hand—much larger than Judith's—rubbed Carol's belly in search of the baby.
"She's still right now," Carol said.
"No more contractions?" Daryl asked, kissing the side of Carol's face.
"Mmm mmm," Carol said. "I'm telling you—false alarm. It wasn't the real thing."
"One of these days it's gonna be the real thing, though," Daryl said.
"Well, yeah," Carol said with a quiet laugh. "I mean—I hope so. She can't stay in there forever."
Daryl laughed quietly.
"I'm not sure how much longer I can stand it," Daryl said. "I don't have a damn clue where nothin' is anymore. You've done rearranged everything in the house like fourteen times. And that's just since breakfast this mornin'."
Carol snuggled into him and enjoyed the kiss he gave her—soft and tender, and a little bit sleepy.
"I'm making it more efficient," Carol said.
"I'm teasin'," Daryl assured her. "You do whatever you need to do."
"Thanks for your permission, Pookie," Carol teased. Daryl made a face at her, leaning over her somewhat, but quickly nuzzled against her ear and then settled down next to her again.
"You sure you're OK?" He asked, massaging her belly. She covered his hand with hers to stop the movement for a moment.
"I promise," she said. "I'm fine."
"You promise—you ain't in labor?" Daryl asked.
Carol smiled.
"I know you're new to this," she said, "but I promise that—I'll let you know when I'm in labor, OK? I promise that you'll be the second to know when she's coming."
"Second?" Daryl asked, tensing and leaning over her again.
"She has to tell me first," Carol said with a smile. "I promise—the first hint I get, I'll tell you. Even long before we need to worry Siddiq."
Daryl kissed her as response to her promise.
"You need anything?" He asked. "She need anything?"
Carol rolled to the side to relieve her back from the pressure of their daughter weighing down on her spine. Daryl followed after her, much the way he'd been doing for days—ever since Siddiq had given the green flag that whenever their little one wanted to come, she was ready for it.
"If you're not too tired," Carol said. "I'm sure—she wouldn't mind a little shot of oxytocin."
Daryl laughed. He kissed the side of her face, but his hand was already trailing down her back and his fingertips were sliding over her skin on their way down to tease her.
"No damn panties," he teased. "Somebody was confident they were gonna get what the hell they wanted."
Carol laughed quietly.
"If you want to leave her and me to try to sleep without our oxytocin, that's fine, Daryl," Carol said. The sigh she gave him was dramatic, and only meant to make him smile. It worked.
Fine," he said. "But keep it down. And we won't come outta everything—just in case we gotta get up quick like. We've done had to explain enough about babies, and how the hell they get out, to Judith. She don't need to know, firsthand, how the hell they get in there in the first place."
"Don't worry," Carol assured him, enjoying the kisses he placed on her neck and shoulder, where he could reach around the restrictions of her soft cotton gown. "I'll keep it down enough that Uncle Daryl doesn't have to explain anything."
She winked at him when he looked hesitant—especially imagining that he might have to explain anything the kids walked in on—and she reached back to catch his arm and tug at it. It didn't take more than that before he leaned over her, kissing her again, and his hand returned back to its earlier work of paving the way for what they both knew was sure to follow.