AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!
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Carol made a noise—a quick, sharp intake of breath. Daryl stopped his movements and remained still for a second.
"You OK?" He asked.
She opened her eyes. Recognizing his stillness, she drew in a deep breath and let it out. She held his eyes with her own. She looked exhausted. The smile she offered him was soft, and it didn't extend all the way to her tired eyes.
"Yeah," she said softly.
"Want me to stop?" Daryl asked.
"No," Carol said. "The doctor said it would help."
"You think it's helpin' any?" Daryl asked.
Carol hummed. He still didn't move. He wanted to give her a little time.
"Maybe," she said. "A little. What do you think?"
Daryl smiled softly back at her.
"I'm gettin' some give," he said. "I can absolutely tell that. You gotta pee again?"
"Not yet," Carol said. "You're—getting some give?" She seemed hopeful—even pleased. "Really?"
Daryl hummed and nodded.
"Got a little movement, not too long ago," he said. "You prob'ly thought it was just me, but it wasn't. I had a little help. Baby's tryin' to stretch out a little. At least, that's what it feels like. It's movin' for sure."
"Not nearly enough movement to turn," Carol said.
"Not yet," Daryl said. "But—we're workin' on it."
"Keep going," Carol urged. She didn't close her eyes or look away from him, this time. "We need enough room to get a bottom's-up baby."
Daryl laughed quietly.
"You want some more of that pain reliever?" Daryl asked.
"No," Carol said.
"You're loaded up on the relaxer," Daryl said. "At least for the next hour or so before your dose and…that flexor-whatever-the-hell-you-call-it ain't due for a few minutes, but it's comin' sooner. I don't know if it gives you any relief, though, after the discomfort passes."
Carol smiled. It was more sincere, this time.
"Daryl—it's fine. Please keep going?"
Daryl hesitated a moment, but he nodded. He started working his fingers again, gently, in the massage technique that the doctor and Kes had showed him. He assumed that, somewhere, Chakotay was likely doing the same thing. Somewhere in the late evening hours—at least according to Voyager's clocks that were malfunctioning, slightly, with everything else that was having a difficult time while they surfed along with the alien animals that were, apparently, migrating through the Delta Quadrant—the doctor and Kes had synthesized a medication that the doctor had found in his data somewhere. This particular medication was meant to create a kind of hyper-elasticity that would help Carol and Kathryn's bodies adjust to the rapid growth of the babies they carried. Muscle and skin would be hyper-elastic while they were taking it and, therefore, would allow them to more quickly grow to a point where they could be comfortable in carrying their pregnancies to term.
Daryl could help things along with gentle massage, and he was dedicated to getting Carol any relief that he could—even if it meant making her a little uncomfortable in the meantime. Carol, herself, was more driven by the fact that the baby, cramped as it was, was likely uncomfortable—which would be a reason for its somewhat erratic vital sighs—and she wanted to get the baby relief. She also feared, though she had only really admitted this to Daryl, that if they didn't get it relief, there might be some physical repercussions for the cramped conditions while it was trying to grow that went beyond the ones the doctor had feared for her and Kathryn.
Daryl ignored the fact that Carol's concerns were clearly only for the life of the baby. He didn't want to focus on that or what all it might mean if he dissected it and studied it too closely.
"Try that breathing again," Daryl said softly. "What Kes showed you. Nice and slow and steady. You want me to do it with you? Come on…" Daryl urged Carol to practice the breathing that Kes had showed her from what she'd gotten out of the doctor's information. On the table beside the bed, a tricorder was on and registering a steady stream of data and putting out constant noises—one sound was Carol's, and one was the baby's. In sickbay, the stream of information was also being played for the EMH. He was monitoring the physical responses of both, ready to let them know if they had a medical emergency.
Daryl tried to ignore, just the same as he ignored the fact that Carol cared really only about the baby's life, that there was a very real possibility that one of those machines could register something besides a small problem at any time.
They were in so-called uncharted waters—inside and outside the ship.
Daryl did the breathing that would theoretically help to relax Carol and relieve her pain. She held his eyes intently and copied him. He continued to massage her, the way that he'd been shown, his fingers working into the muscles of her belly and abdomen.
She groaned, and the sound looked like it surprised her when it registered on her face that she'd actually made it out loud.
"You OK?" Daryl asked again. Carol smiled. She laughed quietly. He felt the laughter.
"Tell me something," Carol said. "Talk to me. Distract me."
"Anything in particular you wanna talk about?" Daryl asked.
Carol wetted her lips with her tongue, and Daryl bit his own lip. He scolded himself over the fact that just seeing her tongue could make his mind automatically go to places it had no business going—especially not right now. There would be plenty of time for that, but he was supposed to be helping the elasticity medication do its job to get Carol relief. Once she felt better, and she was sure their little one had the room it needed to move and grow, Daryl had no doubt that she'd be wanting to celebrate their very-quickly-upcoming parenthood with him. For now, he'd have to be satisfied with this particular intimate touch that they were sharing.
"We haven't talked about that holo-image," Carol said. "You know—of the baby."
Daryl smiled. He did know.
"You know—I'm not sure it's mine," he teased. "I saw a whole lot of you. Not a whole lot of me. Might be that them fifteen babies in sickbay are the only ones that are mine."
Carol frowned at him.
"Asshole," she said.
This time, though, it didn't sound like teasing. In fact, the shock and hurt that registered on her features wasn't at all that of teasing and enjoying herself. Daryl reminded himself, perhaps a little too late, that the doctor had told him her hormones might be all out of whack for a bit. The interference from the outside animals was affecting people as well as systems and, beyond that, there was a veritable flood of hormones that came with the rapid acceleration of the baby's growth.
Daryl stopped what he was doing immediately and moved over her so that he could catch her face in his hands. Already, warm and salty tears were running over his fingers. He tasted them as he tasted her lips.
"Shhh…" he said when the kiss parted. "I was only joking with you, Carol. I was kidding. Just—tryin' to make you laugh and argue with me. Just to pass the time. Distract you from it all. That's all. I don't really think she ain't mine. Hell—I know she is. We made her on the planet, remember? Our own little alien. I was just joking. Really—I couldn't tell who the hell she looked like. I was hardly able to focus on anything."
Daryl stayed right where he was, with his hands on Carol's face, and closed his eyes. He kissed her—peppering her face with kisses—and nuzzled his face against her. He didn't stop until she was holding his wrists with her hands and kissing him back. Her kisses, unlike his, at least to begin with, were hungry, and they grew hungrier as she continued begging him for more with her mouth.
Daryl finally broke and lifted up so that, even when she lifted her face to seek more, she didn't quite reach him.
"You ain't in no condition," he said. He shook his head at her. "Not right now. But when you are? You won't be able to keep me off of you, and that's a promise."
He held her eyes, this time, and then he lowered himself for a final long kiss before he straightened up to his original position and pressed his fingertips into her belly again.
She gathered the sheet up in her hands.
"I hope to be gettin' you grabbin' the sheet like that for another reason soon enough," Daryl said.
Carol laughed, though it was a little strained.
"Me too," she said, blowing out the words with her breath. "You saw—she's a girl, Daryl."
Daryl smiled.
"She sure is," Daryl said.
"A baby girl."
"That she is," Daryl said.
"Is that OK?" Carol asked.
Daryl laughed.
"Damn well gonna have to be," he said. He leaned and glanced at the tricorder. He was feeling a little more give in Carol's abdomen. The baby had a bit more room to move and to grow. The tricorder's harsh sounds—which he'd almost gone deaf to because they were the background music for their life, currently—had changed their tune a little. "She's calmin' down a little. Her vitals are goin' back toward the right range."
Immediately, upon saying that, Daryl noticed a shift in Carol's vitals. They were heading in the right direction, too. She closed her eyes.
"That breathing is helping, Carol," Daryl urged. "Keep that up."
"Did you want a boy?" Carol asked between her breaths.
The alarm for the elasticity medication—with a label that Daryl couldn't pronounce, but which started with "flexor" so he could at least easily identify the right medication—went off. He brought the hypospray to Carol's neck.
"This one isn't the dizzy one," Carol said, shifting away from him. He pulled his hand back. She needed a moment to get herself ready for it, and he understood that.
"No—that's the time one," Daryl said. "This one's the one you said burns like a motherfucker an' gives you the cramps for a little while. But you said rubbin' your belly helps, and I'ma be right here to rub it."
Carol crinkled her nose, but she nodded. She closed her eyes and took a couple more of the practiced breaths.
"Fine," she said. "I'm ready. Go ahead—but as soon as you finish injecting it, I want you to rub. The cramps are almost instant."
"I'm right here. I'ma rub. Real good. I promise. I'ma rub 'til you tell me no more rubbing. Try not to get too tense, OK? Just hurts worse. Baby's vitals are about to go through the roof, but it's just temporary, remember? So—don't freak out when the alarm goes off. You both ready?"
Carol was already rubbing her belly in anticipation.
"It's helping," she said. "The medicine. I can feel her moving, Daryl. A little bit. She's trying to move."
"She sure is," Daryl said. "And she's gonna be tryin' more in a minute. She hates this shit."
"But it's helping," Carol said. "Another—what? Twelve hours of this and she might have all the room she needs."
Daryl laughed quietly. He'd thought about sleeping a little, but he was willing to pull an all-nighter to get mother and daughter enough relief to rest easy for the rest of this pregnancy—short though it may be.
"You ready?" He asked.
"Don't tell me when you're going to do it," Carol said, tensing as he moved closer to her with the hypospray. He touched the metal to her neck and just let it rest there a moment. He leaned and kissed her. She relaxed, so he kissed her a moment more. He nipped at her lip, and she let out a moan of approval. He pressed the release button on the hypospray. "Ow! Son of a bitch!" She hissed, managing to keep from jerking away at all and missing any of the medicine.
Immediately, the alarm went off on the baby's vitals, followed by Carol's vitals.
"Do you require medical assistance?" The EMH asked, his voice coming over the intercoms.
"Just gave the flexor shit," Daryl said. He was already rubbing Carol's belly. She kept her eyes closed, and she was practicing the breathing with focused intent this time. The cramping, from what he could tell, was quite uncomfortable. Luckily, it only seemed to last for anywhere between five to ten minutes before it eased off. "You got anything that don't hurt both of 'em?"
"I have nothing that does the same thing with fewer side-effects," the EMH responded, sounding slightly bored. "As I told you the last three times that you requested something different. Is it proving ineffective?"
"No," Daryl said with a sigh. "We got some room for the baby to move already, and I can tell that Carol's muscles and everything is stretchin' like you said it would."
"Any skin damage or breakage?" The doctor asked.
"No," Daryl said. "Everything's workin' like you said it would."
"You may administer an additional analgesic dose," the doctor offered, "if necessary."
"We're fine," Carol said, starting to relax. As she relaxed, the offending sounds issuing forth from the tricorder slipped closer to range for Carol and, in response, so did the sounds of the baby's readings. Daryl had never thought of really how in-sync Carol's body had to be with the baby's until he'd witnessed all of this. If they ever had another, he hoped he never forgot some of the things that he was experiencing with this little one. "Thank you, Doctor," Carol added.
"You feelin' better?" Daryl asked.
"It passed faster this time," Carol said. "Maybe it's because it's working."
"It is working," Daryl confirmed. "Got a lot more movement in just a couple minutes there. Craziest thing is—I can feel her, Carol. Just like I'm holdin' her in my hands almost. She's all balled up."
"Normally you shouldn't be able to feel her so distinctly," Carol said. "Once everything stretches—you won't be able to. Not as well."
"But once it all stretches," Daryl said, "you and her both are gonna have some relief. By tomorrow—you both gonna feel a whole lot better. Gonna get some good rest, get some relief…be feelin' good. That's all the hell I care about right now—gettin' you both some relief."
Carol hadn't lied. It had clearly passed a lot quicker than the time he'd dosed her before. He felt her relaxing, sinking into the bed. She smiled at him. It was sleepy, this time, and she didn't look to be in too much actual pain.
Daryl thought, if he had one of those little vitals recordings, it would show that his blood pressure dropped significantly as Carol clearly relaxed and the vitals of both of them—of both of the women that he loved most in the whole of the universe, since he hadn't seen the world for some time—slipped into normal ranges.
"You're such a good daddy," Carol said. "Our little alien is going to be so blessed when she gets here."
Daryl smiled. He thought about refusing the compliment, but decided against it. He liked it. It felt good. He wanted to keep it, and he didn't want to downplay it by refusing it.
"She's got one of hell of a mama waiting on her, too," Daryl said.
"Daryl…" Carol said after a moment of silence, during which Daryl simply continued the gentle massaging that would promote the elasticity that Carol needed to comfortably carry their baby girl to term.
"Hmmm?" He hummed.
"She's coming in—two weeks, at the most," Carol said.
Daryl smiled.
"She damn sure is."
"We're not ready," Carol said.
Daryl laughed to himself.
"We damn sure ain't, but we will be."
"How?" Carol asked. "How are we—ever going to be ready in…less than two weeks?"
"Takes a damn village," Daryl said with a laugh, "but I guess a spaceship full of Starfleet oughta suffice."
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AN: For those who have read this on other stories lately, feel free to ignore.
I'll be putting this on my works for a while to make sure everyone sees it, so please ignore if you read multiple stories. I just wanted to let everyone know that it was somewhat brought to my attention that one reason people may not review, or may not review works often or past the first chapter, is that they feel unappreciated by not having their reviews responded to for each chapter and, therefore, don't really feel motivated to continue to read and/or review. I certainly don't want you to feel that way.
Admittedly, I come from the era of fic where we used to sort of consider (perhaps wrongfully) reviews as an acknowledgement that people were reading and wanted more of the story, since I have no other reliable way of knowing who is reading and cares about the story. I have always simply gone on to work on the next chapter. I have only responded to reviews that were personal and, of course, to personal messages. I, of course, read and appreciate every single review, but I have always simply put my time and energy into trying to write more for people to read and, hopefully, enjoy. I never meant to be dismissive of everyone.
I know that it feels bad to feel that what you do is unappreciated or unnoticed. Fic writers often feel that way with a lack of reviews. I wouldn't want other people to feel unappreciated. I absolutely appreciate when people review. It lets me know that people are reading and enjoying the story. It's a sign that I'm not wasting my time, and it gives me motivation to keep going. However, I don't want people to feel unappreciated either. So, I'm going to start doing my best to respond to your reviews. Please note that, the more you say to me, the more I'll obviously have to say in my response. (If you're one of those people who may find this awkward, please let me know, and I won't respond to you. My goal is not to make anyone uncomfortable.) Also, I appreciate your patience, as this will be something that does take time and, as such, it may take me a while to respond to them out of the time that I do have outside of work and adult life, since my free time and the energy that life leaves me is quite limited. I thank you for your patience and understanding.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please don't forget to let me know what you think.
