Author's Note: I just realized I left out a chapter back before "Home", so I've gone and fixed that, uploading the correct chapter 53 which should help explain some things. Sorry! You might want to read that and maybe skim 54 and 55 before reading this one.
As I continued to get bigger into the third trimester, the discomfort also grew, and I found myself wondering how women in the past had dealt with pregnancy while continuing to do so much physical labor. My back hurt from doing chores in the mornings, even though everyone else took the heavier lifting, but sitting still for other projects like mending or knitting weren't comfortable either. I tried not to complain much, as Daryl was spending long days up at the cabin and exhausted by the time he got back, but it was wearing on me. Along with the discomfort came the wild mood swings, and insecurity about the way I looked as well as how the baby would change things, and I often lay awake at night worrying before I finally managed to drift off.
I couldn't get comfortable enough to sleep at all one night, though Daryl passed out quickly. The baby was kicking incessantly, and I'd been dealing with round ligament and sciatic pain the past couple of days, not to mention having to pee every hour. I was trying to stay still so Daryl could sleep, but eventually I decided I should just go for a walk, which sometimes helped. I tried to get out of bed carefully, without disturbing him, but he snagged the back of my shirt before I could. "Go back to sleep" I whispered, "I'm fine, just going for a walk."
"Like hell y'are" he muttered sleepily, "ain't safe. Jus' lie back down and go to sleep." Frustrated, I flopped back down and tried not to be resentful that he was sleeping soundly, but my thoughts began circling back to the usual worries. By the time I had to get up and go to the bathroom, around 2 am, my sleep-deprived and hormone-ridden brain had convinced me that Daryl wouldn't want to touch me ever again once the baby arrived, and that I would have to do the noble thing and cut him loose so he could find happiness somewhere else.
I got back into bed after peeing, wiping away the tears that had soaked my pillow as I'd been spiraling over the past several hours, and found Daryl awake and looking alarmed. "Baby, what's wrong?" he asked, confused and sleepy. My favorite pet name was just too much, and I burst into tears and buried my face in my pillow. He tried to get me to look at him or tell him what was wrong but I just shook my head and cried some more.
Eventually he sat up, scooped his arms underneath me and pulled me into his lap. "Tell me what's wrong, or I'm gonna have ta go find someone else to help" he threatened, and I shook my head frantically. "So tell me," he pleaded.
I took a couple of deep breaths and wiped the worst of the tears and my runny nose with my sleeve, aware that I was a mess and feeling even worse because of it. "I c-can't tell you b-because you'll just deny it and w-won't be honest ab-bout it," I hiccuped and I felt him go rigid underneath me.
"I never lied to ya," he said quietly. "Even when I could've and it woulda made things a lot easier." I realized what he was talking about and shook my head, gulping in another shuddering breath. "That's not what I m-mean. I know you don't l-lie. But you don't w-want me to feel bad so you m-might not say what you r-really think." He relaxed slightly and sighed, pushing my chin up so he could look me in the eye. "I'll tell ya what I really think, I promise," he said solemnly, and my eyes welled up again, but I wiped away the tears and blurted it all out at once.
"I'm just gonna be so gross after I have the baby, and there's going to be so much blood and fluid and, and, and tearing, and you're never going to want me after seeing me all stretched out like that, with a baby coming out of my vagina and then afterwards I'll be bleeding for a long time, and there will be milk everywhere, and you'll be all sexually frustrated and grossed out by me, and then maybe you'll feel sorry for me and so you'll have sex with me anyway, but you won't really want to and I'll know. Or what if I don't know and I think you're fine and you really aren't, but you won't tell me and then you just have this secretly miserable life -"
Daryl clapped a hand over my mouth, halting the word vomit. He looked at my wet face, wet shirt, and down at my soaked pillow. "Have you been cryin' about this all night?" he asked, without removing his hand. I nodded, solemnly, more tears spilling over his hand. Daryl bit down hard on his lower lip and after a second I realized he was trying not to laugh. I slapped his hand away from my mouth, suddenly furious. "You're laughing? You think this is funny?" I growled, and he shook his head, but rubbed his hands over his face and I could tell he was keeping himself from smiling.
I tried to crawl out of his lap, but he grabbed me tightly and pulled me back against him. "Let me go," I demanded, no longer crying. "No," he said firmly, "you're being ridiculous." That pissed me off even more. "Ridiculous? I finally tell you everything I've been worrying about for weeks, and you think I'm ridiculous?" I sucked in a breath to tell him exactly what an ass he was being, but he clapped a hand over my mouth again.
"Stop talking," he barked, and I stilled, eyes widening over his hand. "Good girl," he said more quietly, and I glared at him, annoyed that I was getting turned on by his orders when I was trying to be mad at him. His eyes flicked to my traitorous nipples, visibly hard through my t-shirt, and he bit the inside of his cheek, trying to hide his amusement.
"Can you be quiet if I take my hand away?" he asked, but I just crossed my arms over my breasts and kept glaring daggers at him. "Okay, have it your way," he said, keeping one hand over my mouth and using the other to pull me further into his lap.
"I will always want you," he said in a low voice, the humor gone. "Always, no matter what. B'fore I met you, I thought I couldn' ever find anyone I'd wanna be around all the time, or that I'd get bored havin' sex with the same person forever. But with you, I get it. I can fuck you every night, and wake up wanting more. I wanted you when you were pukin' yer guts out for weeks, and when you were skin and bones when we were on the road, or covered in walker guts. And not just for sex - I wanted all of you, or whatever you could give me. Before we figured our shit out, when we'd have watch together and you'd just talk about all the stuff you were thinkin', that was the best parta my day. And I thought, because of the Governor, that maybe you wouldn' ever want anything except someone to talk to, and I didn' care, I coulda lived with that. So watchin' you have this baby? Ain't gonna freak me out or change anythin' about the way I see ya."
By the time he finished the longest speech I'd every heard him make, I was crying again. He pulled his hand away, and I kissed him hungrily, not caring that I was getting his face wet too. "So you don't mind the belly?" I asked between kisses, and he shook his head. "Fuckin' hot," he muttered. "Not like I ever had a pregnancy fetish or somethin' but on you, with our baby, it's the hottest thing I've ever seen."
"And you won't mind the milk?" I continued, as he pulled off my shirt and began kissing said belly. He moved up to my swollen breasts and sucked on one aching nipple, sending a current of electricity straight between my legs. "Can I lick it off you?" he asked, and I let out something between a moan and whimper, unexpectedly aroused by the thought. "Yes," I said breathlessly, "please".
He spent the next half hour worshipping every inch of my body until I couldn't possibly feel anything but beautiful, and conveniently rocked the baby to sleep at the same time. I lay next to him afterwards, finally comfortable and realized that I had, actually, been a little ridiculous. "I may have been slightly irrational," I said meekly, and his chest vibrated in silent laughter. "In my defense," I continued quickly, "I've hardly had any sleep lately so I'm not thinking very clearly."
"Why can't ya sleep?" he asked. "The baby's just always kicking, or my back hurts from it sitting on my sciatic nerve, or I have heartburn, or I have to pee. All normal, just exhausting. Are you worried about anything with the baby?"
The sudden subject change caught him off guard and he didn't answer for a minute. "Don' want ya to go through all that pain," he said quietly. "Y'already been through too much, and I thought I might lose you. Somethin' could go wrong with this. Or somethin' could be wrong with the baby."
"Mmhmm," I murmured. "I think the chances are pretty low though. And with . . . before . . . that was all pain and blood and trauma until I lost consciousness. This will last longer, and it will hurt really badly, but will be for something good. And now that I think about it, I probably should have remembered that you already saw me all bloody and torn up and still ended up wanting me."
I meant it to lighten the mood, but he exhaled roughly and turned so I was on my back and he was hovering over me. "I've never been that scared, before or since. There was so much blood and Maggie was freakin out, thought you were gonna bleed out in the truck. When you passed out we thought for a minute you . . . after that, I stopped tryin' not to be - not to care."
We'd never talked before about what happened with the Governor, or the way our relationship had changed after that. "I knew when I saw you holding Judith that I was in love with you" I said, "there was all this horrible stuff everywhere, and we'd just lost T-Dog and Lori, Rick had lost his mind, Carol was missing, and I felt so guilty about it, but I couldn't help it. And then after the Governor I only felt safe when you were around and I just fell deeper every day."
"Didn' think we'd ever be here" Daryl admitted, looking around. "Thought maybe I'd be able to have ya for a while, if I could keep ya safe, and then you could come back t'yer family and I'd figure out how t'be okay with that." I leaned up and kissed him again. "You are my family" I said, "and you're stuck with me now, Dixon."
