AN: Here we are, another chapter.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
"I love you, Daryl," Carol said. "With—everything. But if you don't stop asking me if it hurts, I'm going to have to consider dissolving our marriage." Daryl frowned at her. "I'm kidding," she added with a sigh. "About the marriage. But—please, stop asking me if it hurts, OK? Every contraction hurts. You can just consider that your answer from here out."
"I'd stop askin' if you wouldn't just keep it all a damn secret," Daryl growled. "You won't tell me when something's happening. I have to watch you to read the smallest damn thing."
Alice had been back several times to check on Carol. Carol had spent some time in the bed, and she'd spent some time walking around the house. She'd also spent some time walking around the yard. Alice said everything looked wonderful, at least as far as she could tell, and the only thing left to do was to get labor to progress to the point that the baby would come into the world.
She'd given Daryl instructions to follow Carol's cues until her return, and maybe that was what had him frustrated. It was hard to follow cues from someone who didn't want you to know how they were feeling during the whole process.
Daryl sat down next to Carol on the side of the bed where she'd chosen to sit. He was following her around, essentially. He was letting her choose what she wanted to do, when she wanted to do it, and how she wanted to do it. He was offering her a hand when needed, something to hold onto, and the occasional bit of ice out of the freezer or a sip of water when her mouth ran far too dry.
He sighed and she reached over, patting his arm.
"I'm sorry," she breathed out. "Can you forgive me for making this so hard on you?"
He looked at her and laughed to himself. She was smirking at him.
"Asshole," he muttered. "You're the one in labor. I just thought it'd be different."
"Different how?"
"You'd be screamin' or something," Daryl said. "Threatenin' me. Tellin' me you hate me an' you don't even wanna know me no more. Somethin'. This shit ain't nothin' like t.v. I can tell you that."
Carol laughed.
"Ed thought every complaint that I ever made was ridiculous," Carol said. "My pain just—made him angry, except when he wanted to hear it. I guess I learned not to make a big deal about it if I could possibly contain it."
"I ain't him."
"I know you're not. But old habits die hard."
"Any way I can speed up killin' them habits?"
"I tell you what—I still don't feel motivated to yell at you that I hate you, because I don't, and I won't, and…even when it hurts? I still don't hate you. But—I could be a little more open. And—I could make a few more requests. Fill you in on how I'm feeling a little bit more. If that's what you want."
"That's what I want," Daryl assured her.
Carol nodded.
"OK—then I'm ready to go for a walk again."
11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
"Daddy is just a little extra anxious right now," Alice said, speaking to the woman who was assisting her. "I don't know if I told you. This is Mama's second and their first together. He'll be calmer next time, when he has a little experience under his belt. Mama—how do you feel about meeting your little girl? You ready?"
One thing Daryl could absolutely say about Alice was that she was upbeat today. Part of it was her personal happiness in the world. The most recent group of people to reach the community—following the radio signals that they'd sent out—included one of the thinnest blondes that Daryl had ever seen in his life. The woman would gain weight, though, with some good meals and a little time not spent on the defense. She was, apparently, a psychiatrist—which Daryl learned also meant she'd have some medical knowledge in addition to her head shrinking capabilities—and she was, apparently, Alice's partner which, Daryl had also learned, meant that they were essentially married, even though they'd had no ceremony as of yet.
Daryl couldn't imagine what it would feel like to be reunited after so much time and, in the case of Melodye—because the woman's name was Melodye—so much struggle, but he was happy for them.
Alice was also pleased, too, because the baby was coming. Daryl had heard her excitedly telling Melodye—while he'd helped them gather, carry, and prepare supplies—that Baby Girl Dixon would be the first baby born in the community that she was confident was going to make it. Daryl still hadn't decided if the statement made him feel confident, or if it simply made him feel worried about the reminder that there were no guarantees in life.
Even though Daryl might have found Alice's upbeat mood a little annoying during the past little while that the two women had camped out at the house to keep an eye on Carol and see how things progressed, it appeared that Carol did not find it annoying at all. In fact, it seemed to rub off on Carol, just a little bit, and she'd even seemed excited through a few of the harder contractions where she'd finally let Daryl know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she found the whole experience at least a little uncomfortable.
As long as Carol benefitted from Alice's bubbly positivity, Daryl could tolerate the brunette.
"I'm ready," Carol panted at her. "I'm ready."
"Good," Alice said. "Because—she's ready to meet you. We've got wait until your next contraction, OK? Then, I want you to push like you're ready to meet her. Push like you mean it, OK?"
"It's happenin' now?" Daryl asked.
"Mama's about to start pushing," Alice said. "Could be a few minutes, or it could be an hour before she's done all the pushing she needs. Mama's body is going to decide that. Mama, you want to give Daddy some direction? What do you want him to do?"
Carol's direction came in reaching out for Daryl, so he closed the gap quickly and took her hand. The whole process had turned everything he'd thought about how babies got born practically on its head. He'd expected screaming and chaos, but there hadn't really been either of those. Carol panted, more than anything else, and when it seemed to get really bad, she mostly groaned and, once, had cried tears about the whole thing.
In between contractions, Daryl had followed her around for most of the day. He'd watched as she'd practically rearranged everything in the nursery. He'd watched as she'd folded and unfolded things. He'd brought the white bassinette into the bedroom, just like she'd requested, and he'd watched her while she'd put the little sheet on it and smoothed it excessively—practically petting it while she rocked through contractions and hummed to herself.
Daryl had done a great deal of watching.
He'd also washed Carol. He'd helped her get a bath. He'd held her hand while she'd soaked a while in the tub and hummed to herself with her eyes closed.
He'd accepted that his presence there was wanted, but apparently much of this whole process was done at some distance from him—somewhere inside Carol's mind.
He didn't mind being kept distant, when that was what Carol needed, as long as she let him in occasionally—and she did. Sometimes, when she came out from inside herself, she would give him the warmest smile that she had, and she would invite him to love with her a little; to hold her and share kisses.
He'd felt how hard her belly could grow during he contractions, and he'd massaged the skin under his palm while she'd hummed to the both of them and clung to him.
"Now?" Carol asked.
"Not yet," Alice said.
"Now?" Carol asked again, almost immediately. "Oh—please…now?"
"Now," Alice said. "Let's go, Mama. You can do it. Go. Go. Keep going."
Daryl didn't know exactly what was involved in this part of the process—at least not from an experience standpoint—but he knew that things suddenly got a great deal more intense than they had been before.
Carol very nearly broke the bones in his hand, he was sure, but he gritted his teeth. If that was his pain in the whole process, he'd gladly take it. He wished, honestly, that he could take more of the pain from her. It became clear, as the process moved forward, that she was suffering more than she had been before. Her breathing was ragged and more cries—some of them sounding like desperation—escaped her as she begged Alice for updates. It seemed that Carol thought she wasn't getting enough information about what was happening, though, from Daryl's standpoint, Alice hardly every stopped giving some kind of update or word of encouragement.
He decided that, maybe from where Carol was, things seemed to be happening a little differently.
After things stepped up another level entirely—one at which Carol began requesting some kind of help that, apparently, nobody could offer, Alice spoke to Daryl instead of simply offering encouraging words to try to assure Carol that her suffering was temporary.
"You wanna see the baby coming, Daddy? Her head is almost out." Alice said.
Daryl didn't dare to take his hand away from Carol while she was clinging to it desperately, but he did crane around to get a look at things.
"Holy shit," he said.
"What?" Carol panted. "What? What is it…is she OK?"
"I guess she's fine," Daryl said. "I can see her head—well…" Carol growled with her pushing, squeezing Daryl's hand hard, and Daryl watched as their daughter slipped further into the world. "Holy fuck—her head's out! You just done that!"
"It's out? It's out?"
"It's out!" Alice confirmed. She somewhat blocked Daryl's position, but he didn't complain at all. She was clearly doing something with intention and, at this moment, he considered what she was doing to be right up there in importance with what Carol was doing. "Mel—I'm going to need that clean blanket now. Daddy—can you help get everything off of Mama? Bare her chest?"
"Naked?" Daryl asked, giving up his position to watch things since he couldn't see well anyway.
"Naked is wonderful," Alice told him. "Mama—I've got her and I'm ready to help you with the shoulders when you're ready—take this contraction or the next, if you need a breather. She's OK and she's willing to let you have whatever you need."
Daryl quickly helped Carol out of what she was wearing. She'd put on a robe and nothing more when she'd gotten out of the bath. It was easy enough to free her arms. She wrapped both her hands around Daryl's arm in response to his proximity, and she laid into the push that got a howl of approval from Alice.
"We got her! We got her! She's here!" Alice yelled. "Hold on—Mama—she's coming to you."
Before Daryl could even wrap his mind around the fact that what Alice was mopping up in her arms was a baby, a cry filled the room. A wet, loud, cry of a strange voice that none of them had ever heard before.
Daryl smiled to himself.
"She's fuckin' furious," he said with a laugh.
Alice immediately laid the baby on Carol's chest and Carol wrapped her arms around her. She was already crying, herself, and Daryl could see that she was practically shaking violently. Alice could see it, too, so she stood a second with her hand on the baby to be sure that everything was stable and secure.
"She's OK? She's OK?" Carol kept repeating over and over.
"She looks beautiful," Alice said. "And those lungs—those are strong lungs, Mama!"
The lungs in question demonstrated how strong they were with a few more angry howls. Seeming to calm a little with the acceptance that the baby was OK, Carol drew her in tighter against her. Alice moved away from her, then, and Daryl felt every muscle in his body relax. The doctor's demeanor told him that everything was as fine as she could want it to be, even without words, and his body picked up on that entirely.
"Oh—oh baby…oh, sweet girl. Oh—it's OK. Shhhh…shhh…sweet girl. It's OK. It's all OK. Shhhh…it's fine. Oh…"
Carol's eyes were closed, but tears streamed from them and mixed with the sweat that glistened on her face. The baby seemed to accept Carol's declaration that everything was OK, because her angry screams calmed with her mother's repeated affirmations that there was nothing more tragic happening here than the event of coming into the world—and it was a tragedy that everyone had to suffer once.
Daryl leaned and kissed her forehead. Carol finally opened her eyes, and she looked at the baby.
"She's beautiful," Carol said. "Daryl—do you see her?"
"I see her," Daryl confirmed.
He would never, in a million years, let her know that the baby in question did not look too beautiful at the moment.
Alice laughed as she circled around the bed and got close enough to Daryl to brush against him.
"She's dirty, isn't she?" She said, using the cloth she was carrying to start mopping at the baby as she moved Carol's hands around and shifted the newborn.
Daryl nodded at the woman.
"We're going to clean her up really well," Alice said. "But—first, we're going to let her snuggle with Mama just a few more minutes. You want to cut the cord?"
Daryl watched Carol a second. He had never seen anyone have quite the expression on their face that she did. She was talking quietly to the baby, so that none of them could clearly hear her without truly focusing on the words, and, without a shadow of a doubt, Daryl could tell that she already loved the tiny thing with every fiber of her being.
Alice prepared the cord and told Daryl where to cut. He followed her instructions and she congratulated him like he'd done something phenomenal when he really felt like he'd had nothing at all to do with the whole process—all things considered.
"Alright, Mama," Alice said. "Can we—let Daddy and Mel have a little baby time? They'll get her all cleaned up for you and smelling pretty and we'll take care of what we have to do? I don't know if you're feeling those contractions, but we're not done here."
"I want to hold her," Carol protested.
"Do you have an outfit for her? Something sweet picked out?" Alice asked.
"Right there," Daryl said, indicating the outfit that Carol had chosen. It, along with a diaper, was waiting in the bassinet since Carol had prepared it earlier.
"Please…I don't want her to go," Carol said, snuggling the baby close.
"Can't she just keep her?" Daryl asked.
"We need to get her cleaned up," Alice said. "And—Mama? You've got some work to do. And you're going to really hate me because I've got at least two or three stitches to do here and the best I can offer you is something to bite on for a bit, if you want it. I don't have any locals. But I promise she's coming back to you, to help you feel better, and we're going to clean you up—and all this up—and then we're going to be out of your hair and all you have to do is relax, heal, and love on Daddy and that little girl, OK?"
Carol sincerely looked like she was debating whether or not this was OK. Nobody made a move in any direction until she finally relaxed a little, nodded her acceptance, and made it clear that she was going to release the baby without possibly biting anyone.
Alice stepped forward to accept the tiny infant.
"Help Daryl?" Carol requested. "He needs to hold her."
Alice smiled and took the baby.
"Absolutely," she said. She bundled the still somewhat messy baby a bit better in her blanket—the cleaning process had unwrapped her some and Carol had unwrapped her the rest of the way—and she offered her out to Daryl. He'd never felt more terrified in his life than he did when Alice moved her hands, slipping them beneath his, almost in the same way she'd done when she handed the baby over to Carol, to create a basket. "Daddy's going to help get her cleaned up. You got her, Daddy?"
The baby weighed nothing. She practically didn't exist in his arms and Daryl found that absolutely terrifying. His heart pounded in his chest. His head ached, suddenly. All he could imagine was that he was simply going to let go of her—for no reason in the world, he was simply going to let go—and he'd drop the baby.
The worst part of it was that when he looked at her, and she screwed her face up at him—some clump of something he didn't want to identify stuck to her cheek—she didn't seem to realize that he was going to drop her.
"You got her?" Alice asked.
"Yeah," Daryl breathed out, tensing at the thought of her moving her hands. The baby whimpered and whined.
Alice didn't move her hands immediately. If he did just let her go, she'd fall directly into the doctor's "basket."
"Hey—talk to her, Daddy. She knows your voice," Alice said.
Daryl's heart reacted wildly to that.
"You think?" He asked.
"I know," Alice said. "She's not crying. She's trying to take you in. She wants to put a face with the voice she knows."
Daryl smiled at the messy baby.
"Hey sweetheart," he offered. She closed her eyes in response.
"Your voice relaxes her," Alice said. "You relax her—so relax yourself. Don't make her feel nervous, OK? You got this, Daddy."
The baby did look relaxed. Daryl forced himself to relax. She flexed her fingers and then balled them up again.
Alice moved and dropped her protective basket.
"Mel—can you help Daddy? I've got to work with Mama a little bit."
"You gonna be OK?" Daryl asked, looking at Carol. She was watching him intently, and she offered him a smile.
"I'm fine," she assured him. "You just worry about her."
"I got her," Daryl assured her, feeling a little more confident in that statement than he had when she'd first come into his arms. He shuffled forward, not wanting to jostle her too much, to follow the rail-thin blonde that was beckoning him toward the bathroom.
"Daryl—"
Daryl turned back to look at Carol—she was tracking them, brow furrowed. Her full focus was on them, and not at all on what was happening to her. Daryl hummed at her in question.
"She's going to need a name, and I think…you should name her."
