Once the heaviest of the emotions have passed for him and Princess, Shane coaxes her inside. It may be Florida, but it's late January and even northern Florida has winter temperatures. He already feels guilty enough that she was huddled outside when the temperature dropped below freezing last night and might again tonight.
Princess perches on the bed, fumbling with her boots and trying to get the complex laces undone. They don't usually conquer her agile fingers like this, and Shane sits beside her to detangle the mess she's making and ease the heavy footwear off to let them thud on the floor. She watches him with heavy-lidded eyes, propped on her elbows, as he tugs her socks off as well.
"Say it again," she mumbles. "Please?"
Shane tosses the socks in the general direction of the hamper and hauls her back in his arms. Guilt flickers across him that he's known and not said the words for months now, all the way back to the first time they shared this bed. "I love you."
She giggles softly, pressing chilled lips to the base of his throat. "Again."
The fact that she's laughing turns it into a game, and he repeats himself every time she says again, even as he keeps stripping away her layers so they can go to bed. Soon she's down to his shirt that she uses as a pajama top and the boy shorts she prefers, just wriggling into her spot under the covers while he tosses his own clothes to the hamper. Once he's laying face to face with her, she smiles hesitantly.
"I told Rick I don't know anything about babies."
Shane cups her face with one hand, stroking his thumb along her cheek. "Well, all you really need to know tonight is that her name is Judith, and she weighs about as much as a feather. We will figure out the rest as we go."
That makes her smile brighten and she leans in for a kiss. It's sweet and lingering, much like the first kisses they ever shared. "I like the we part of that."
He pulls her close for a deeper kiss, one where she makes that happy, aroused sound even as she slides one shapely bare leg between his. It's natural to slide a hand under her shirt, but as he caresses his hand along the smooth skin of her stomach, he freezes, because he was never an incautious man when it came to precautions against pregnancy, not before. But ever since the world turned upside down, he hasn't considered it once.
Today certainly provided proof that he's been careless.
"Shane?" The worry in Princess's voice when she says his name makes him take a deep breath.
"I never asked you about birth control."
Understanding dawns and she leans in to press a kiss to his forehead, laughing softly as she plays with his curls. "No, you didn't. Luckily, I'm smart enough for both of us, or rather the old world me was. I have an IUD that's good for another year, and they've got a stash down at the infirmary if I want another."
The relief is short-lived and not as intense as it once would have been, and he splays his hand across her belly. For the first time since he held Judith, it occurs to him just how much he missed from not knowing he had a child on the way.
"I never really thought about having kids," he admits. Hell, he'd gone out of his way not to, never trusting just a partner's birth control. Condoms were just a fact of life in his old life. "Was nice to just steal Carl away for an afternoon or a weekend and then take him home."
"You do make a great uncle."
"And now I'm a father, which I'll figure out, but the selfish part of me just realized I missed everything."
She giggles. "Poof. Here's a baby. A bit like the old stork delivery stories, huh?"
"Yeah." The fact that Princess seems to understand helps, and he raises up to one elbow to look down at her. He can still tell that she cried, because her eyes are puffy and red, but she's got a contented expression that makes remember the repetition, so he says it again. "I love you."
"I love you, too." Tilting her head, she studies him closely. "If the question bouncing around your brain right now is 'do you ever want kids', the answer is maybe. It was maybe before the world went to hell in a handbasket, and all the worries I have about being a good mom are only amplified by everything that's changed."
"If you'd asked me the same question about kids before today, I would have said no. I didn't grow up with a father. You say you don't know anything about babies, but all I really know is from watching Rick and Lori with Carl." He takes a deep breath. "But she's here and real and I've got to figure it out."
"And having to worry about another baby is just one thing too many right now, right?"
"Yeah." Searching her expression for any sign that she's offended, he finds nothing of the sort, just understanding. "I don't deserve you."
"Shush. Don't say anything like that about the man I'm in love with." She stretches, wiggling herself back into a suggestive position. "I am not opposed to all the practice that normally brings babies, though."
It's hard to hold onto the guilt and regret when she's grinning at him wickedly, even though he knows exactly what sort of distraction she's going for, so he rolls to his back and tugs so that she ends up astride his hips. "Practice is good."
Practice is very, very good, and it leaves them sated and sweaty despite the slight chill of their room. They take turns in the bathroom, and Shane's curled against Princess's back half asleep when she speaks, almost too soft to hear.
"When the world's safe for it, I think two would be perfect."
"Two?" Half asleep, his brain doesn't process it.
"Two younger siblings for Judith."
That registers well enough, and he surprises himself when his reaction is a sense of rightness. He presses a kiss to the back of her neck. "Two is good, yeah."
Falling asleep is easier than Shane thought it would be, with his hand spread across her stomach even as he thinks of how right it felt to hold Judith today. So much of his daughter's existence is complicated, but one day it won't be, and lying here with Princess, he's got the promise that next time there won't be a cloud of guilt and sorrow surrounding a precious new life. Maybe neither of them come from backgrounds where having children seems like the natural progress of a relationship, but now that they've got each other, something about it finally does seem just right.
Rick hasn't had this bad of a hangover since college, although the CDC was rough enough to remind him why he hadn't drunk to excess since before Carl was born. The benefit of a best friend who was a much harder drinker even in their college years is that he at least knows how to tackle recovery. By the time anyone joins him in the kitchen, he's downed aspirin and three glasses of water and started on a glass of orange juice.
"Might help to eat a little something, too," Shane says.
His voice is deliberately soft-pitched, but Rick startles anyway and raises his head from where he's got it cushioned on his hands. Last night, Shane had been so focussed on Princess's distress that Rick knows he barely registered anything of Rick except that basic forgiveness he'd managed to convey to Shane. But this morning, with sunlight starting to creep into the kitchen windows, Shane looks as hesitant as he did back in the days when they'd done something to merit a lecture by Rick's parents or Shane's grandmother.
"How's Princess this morning?" Rick asks, opting for the easier topic of the person sideswiped by the final disintegration of the Grimes marriage.
"Sleeping in. I was going to make some breakfast and take it up to her. You up to eating?"
"Nothing greasy."
They have eggs thanks to regular capture of loose poultry as they look for survivors and other supplies. There's even bacon and sausage, because the vast reduction in human population means that the feral pig population is expanding quickly as they absorb escaped domestic pigs into their numbers. Hunting is a common pastime for those like Shane who enjoy the task.
The idea of a normal eggs and bacon breakfast is enough to make Rick exit the kitchen, but Shane doesn't argue, just goes to measure water into a pan and set it to boil. Rick watches as Shane moves quietly around the kitchen, slicing bread from the loaf made yesterday and slathering half of the slices with butter before sliding it all in the toaster oven. The smell of sugar and cinnamon pervade the kitchen as the oatmeal cooks.
"If I close my eyes, I could be in Grandma Jean's kitchen."
Rick's musing makes Shane snort before he laughs. "Eyes closed would be a bit necessary. I'm a foot taller and a good eighty pounds heavier than my grandma."
It's true enough, because Grandma Jean had been a tiny slip of a woman who made up for lack of size by vastness of personality. Shane inherited his jovial storytelling ability from her, even if his story content had often been far more risque than anything Jean would have ventured. She'd taught him that right alongside every recipe she ever cooked, something Rick wished he'd been part of, too, once Jean passed away unexpectedly when they were at college.
"She would have been over the moon about Judith."
Shane freezes in mid-ladle into one of the three bowls on the counter. He doesn't turn to look at Rick before he resumes his task. "She would have been ashamed of me. Not Judith, no. Judith would have made her happier than I've ever seen her. But me? Yeah."
"Is this about you and me and Lori?" Rick thought they'd covered the subject, firstly with their discussion months ago about what happened between Shane and Lori after they thought Rick had died, and secondly after last night even if it was a very abbreviated sense of talking. "Because there's no blame there, Shane. Not from me, and there certainly wouldn't have been from your grandma."
"It's not that." The bowl makes a dull thud as Shane sets it down in front of Rick before he sits down with a sigh in the chair opposite. "I lost my damn mind, Rick. World went to hell, you were gone, and I didn't even consider the fact that Lori might get pregnant. What if she hadn't found that group that had an honest-to-god doctor?"
The reality of that grips Rick in a way it hadn't when he'd first seen Lori looking so exhausted in that makeshift infirmary in Alabama. Carl had been delivered by c-section after a long, difficult birth, yet there was no evidence that Judith was born surgically. The problem is that Shane is right about being irresponsible, but Rick thinks about the nights he and Lori had before the farm fell, and he was equally so. All three of them didn't think about that particular consequence at all.
"We all were, Shane."
Hell, Rick can almost picture Grandma Jean materializing in the kitchen as if it was her tiny cottage back home, that day she ordered two thirteen-year-old boys to take a seat and gave them a sex education lecture so thorough Rick is pretty sure it's why he didn't consider having sex until he was already in college. His parents had subscribed to the abstinence only policy, so most of his teenage knowledge about sex, STIs, and pregnancy came from Jean.
"Thankfully Princess isn't as careless."
That extra helping of guilt explains some of the agitation, Rick thinks, which shows even now as Shane gets up to tend to the toast. Rick gets peanut butter smeared all over his, while the tray Shane sets up has toast with a generous amount of the marmalade that Princess prefers.
"Are you going down to the infirmary after breakfast?"
"Yeah." Shane pauses at the doorway after he picks up the tray. "I figure I should actually introduce Lori and Princess this time."
"I don't know if you noticed last night, but if you're intending on still offering Lori the spare room, you might want to know she and Daryl come as a pair."
There's something about the dumbfounded look on Shane's face that makes Rick laugh in a way he didn't think he could laugh over this whole mess. The amusement makes Shane frown, staring at Rick as if he's lost his marbles. Once he's managed to control the laughing, Rick just grins.
"I can't say that I would have thought us being one big happy family was a great idea last night. It still might not be. But you deserve to be near the baby and the room is empty. If you want to offer it, I'm good with that."
"You sure, brother?" There's a hopeful glint in Shane's eyes that Rick can't miss. "One hundred percent sure? Before I ask Princess?"
"I'd say more like seventy percent sure, but that's enough. It won't be easy to settle in again, but Judith and Carl deserve to be close to each other, and they both need all their parents close."
This morning, he woke up hungover and wondering how the hell any of this works out in the end. But the moment the idea bypassed his mental filter to make it to speech, he knows it's the right thing for everyone. Shane has already missed significant milestones on the road to fatherhood and shouldn't miss any more. It's also not fair to take that soft glow of happiness away from Lori. As for Rick himself, maybe none of this is what he would choose, but he can't abide the idea of being excluded from it only by his own choice.
"Everything I tried after I got to the quarry, all my grasping to keep me and Lori together… It was all to keep my family together, Shane. But that's the thing I've learned when first I thought Carl and probably you were dead and later when I lost hope that we'd ever find Lori. It doesn't matter anymore what form our family takes, as long as we're all alive and together."
Rick really shouldn't be surprised that Shane puts the tray on the table and hauls him into a rib-creakingly hard hug. He'd promised himself that the rest could be sorted out come morning, and somehow, this is the form it needs to take.
They're family. That's all that counts.
Lori eyes the beachside house warily. It's a pretty place, exactly the sort she often fantasized about renting for a vacation after that one trip to the shore they'd taken when Carl was younger. Some of the ache of missing Carl settles even more as she thinks about all the months her son has had to live in such a beautiful place. But her own welcome in it seems less of a guarantee.
"We don't have to do this, you know," Daryl says when she doesn't make a move to get out of the little golf cart. "Bet they got plenty of places open. You could take your pick, I'm betting, as excited as everyone is about a baby being here."
The young Marine who drove them down to Shane and Rick's home carefully ignores her hesitation and Daryl's words. Whether or not the young man will gossip, Lori doesn't know, but she figures it's too small of a community for everyone not to know all their business by sundown anyway. Daryl is probably right about them being given a place of her own.
"Another place doesn't have Carl," Lori states as she takes a deep breath to calm her nerves. It's not that Carl couldn't split time between households, same for Judith when she's older, but to make him do that without even trying this plan of a merged household is what the old Lori would have done. She reaches for Judith's car seat, but Daryl hops out of the front seat to intervene.
"You get her bag. I'll carry her. Seat's heavy."
He's so fluttery and nervous himself that she decides to let his gentlemanly side take over, even though carrying Judith's seat is plenty easy when she doesn't have a wealth of stitches in her abdomen like she had after Carl. Gathering the colorful diaper bag she was given back at the riverside camp by their friends there, she steps out of the cart and thanks the Marine for their ride. His reply is gracious as he puts the cart back in gear and does a U-turn to return to his normal duties.
Before they get up the steps, the door swings open and Carl's there, grinning from ear to ear with excitement. "Mom! You're here."
"That was the plan, sweetheart," she says, hugging him tight.
She'd had time to explain her relationship with Daryl before Shane had arrived and dropped the bombshell invitation into her lap. As much as her first instinct had been to scurry away from facing Rick or Shane on a daily basis, the ecstatic look on Carl's face when she asked him about the solution had meant chasing away her cowardice. Daryl doesn't seem to care one way or another. His only reply was that he went wherever she and Judith went.
It's so very true, and she knows if her choice was them continuing to live in their cramped little RV parked in some driveway here, Daryl would be happy with that, too. After all these months, it's still odd to recall that very little phases Daryl about how others might view his life. Maybe Merle might be able to have a say, but from everything Lori's seen, Merle seems to have somehow managed to make friends with Rick and Shane both. Merle made no objections and even offered to move the RV down so it would make unloading their possessions easier.
Carl leads her inside, where Princess is fluttering in the space where the foyer gives way to the living room, smiling brightly even as she cranes her neck to see the baby Daryl is carrying.
"I wasn't sure if you'd want to go upstairs," Princess explains, sounding nervous as hell. "Rick and Shane are still getting the crib assembled upstairs. Your room is closest to the wood heater we have upstairs, so that'll be good for Judith. But there's a playpen set up down here, one with the bassinet piece so she can sleep in it, and the couch is so comfortable it ought to be illegal."
When Princess steps aside to usher them into the living room, Lori takes in the massive sectional that faces a fireplace. Some soft music is playing, but the lyrics aren't in English. They've seen the electricity at the infirmary, but it's to be expected in a medical setting. Seeing casual use is so unusual after the limited ability they had at the camp.
"Downstairs is fine for now." Honestly, the idea of climbing stairs really isn't pleasant at the moment, and she's glad to see that inexperienced or not, Princess seems to have accounted for that.
"Do you need something to drink?" Princess asks as Daryl sets the car seat down on one end of the coffee table for Lori to unlatch the safety straps and lift Judith into her arms. The baby yawns and squirms, blinking as Carl peeks at her in an obvious wish to hold her.
"I'm fine for now," Lori answers. "If you sit down, Carl, you can hold her again."
He's never sat down so fast in his life, crooking his arms in an eager demand for his sister. Lori settles Judith in his arms, smiling as Carl starts talking to Judith in a besotted voice that she hopes bodes well for their future. Princess draws her into a quick tour of the ground floor of the house, her shy friendliness never wavering. Daryl stays behind in the living room, sitting quietly near Carl, far enough away not to crowd him but close enough Lori knows he's on hand if Carl needs him.
"Carl's a great kid," Princess says after she's run out of things to show Lori.
"He always has been. Active and a bit of a troublemaker, but he's got a good heart like his daddy." Lori glances into the living room, where the quiet of being left with Judith has given way to Carl asking questions Lori can't hear but that Daryl seems to be answering easily.
"I love being his aunt. I never had brothers or sisters, so it's all new, but being here, being part of a family, it makes me so happy."
She's so nervous it's sweet, so Lori reaches out to snag one of her hands, just like she would have with any woman that finally got Shane to settle down. "Carl loves you, too. I swear, he told me more about you than anyone on the island except Beth, and considering all that puppy love, that's high praise."
The flush that darkens Princess's skin combines with a pretty smile, and all Lori can think of is how she seems like such a perfect match for Shane. He'd overshadow someone truly shy, but from Carl's stories, Lori knows it's just a matter of time before Princess settles around new people and makes friends. She finds she's already looking forward to it.
"That's sweet of him. At least it doesn't feel weird that he's talked about you so much. He missed you all the time. It got a little worse after the girls moved to the other house with their parents."
Lori can just imagine it did, with Hershel and Carol returned to their daughters, yet she herself was still out there somewhere unknown. Part of her wishes they'd never stopped traveling, but she hadn't known Carl was out there to look for him. The rest of her knows it wouldn't have been healthy or safe for her and Judith. At least they've only lost months, not years.
"Are you sure about that drink?" Princess asks again. "We've got plenty. I remember Carl said you really liked lemonade, so I made some before we left the house, so it would start getting chilled."
Since Judith seems to be sleeping contentedly in Carl's arms, Lori agrees to the drink, which expands to lemonade and snacks and gossipy stories of everyone on the island. It's so very easy to like Princess, so when Rick and Shane make their appearance downstairs at last, all Lori can do is smile happily at them both to head off their apologies for taking so long.
Maybe it won't be easy merging so many personalities, and eventually, they may need to separate into individual homes, but for now? It may be a unique meaning, but she's home.
A/N: Only one or two chapters to go, folks, so this one is a bit long as a bonus.
