New Year's Eve comes and goes, and with it, Beth's due date. She knows logically that due dates are an educated guess, every pregnancy is different, and first pregnancies are most likely to go overdue. None of that logic helps when it feels like her baby is setting up permanent residency.
At least winter in Montserrat bleeds off the humidity, leaving everything warm and dry. Celebrating Carnival is an experience, although mostly witnessed from the sidelines this year. Her friends assure her next year will be soon enough, and she does love the reassurance that everyone here plans ahead in years, not just weeks or months.
"It's too choppy to swim today," she grumbles, staring out at the water in the distance. It's warm enough to swim, or for the ones less encumbered by a second human being, to dive, but on the flagpole near where she normally swims, a yellow flag flies. Before pregnancy, she could risk it, because she's a strong swimmer, but not right now.
"There is a pool on the island, you know." Shane slides his arms around her non-existent waist, his hands going to massage the aching underside of her belly before moving to her hips and back.
Many of the houses have pools, but no one wants to waste resources on chlorine for them. One pool is designated for community use, for those not confident with the ocean or still learning to swim, and the rest are all converted for a variety of uses. But it's usually a popular place, and Beth is just too damn cranky for people oohing and aahing over her belly today, not with the official two week overdue mark arriving.
He takes her non-answer for what it is, continuing the massage. His remarkable patience with her cranky and mercurial moods since Christmas has got to run out eventually, she suspects, but she's seen no sign of it.
"I'm so tired of my back hurting," she grumbles. "It's so much worse today, too."
Shane's hands still, and the penny drops for her, too. She surprises herself by giggling, and the worst of the grumpiness melts away. He kisses her thoroughly, and she returns it with an enthusiasm that's been lacking. The next half day or so is going to probably be the toughest she's ever faced, but this time? The reward will be worth it.
She's gained enough training that she's delivered two babies without the doctor present now, enough that he considers her a qualified midwife. That also means she knows there's no reason to rush off to the hospital, not for hours. Giving birth at home is an option for pregnancies like hers, but she'd seen the fear on everyone's faces at the thought. The spectre of Judith's birth will probably worry them all for a decade.
Judith is with Carol for the day, so they have privacy, and with both of them on leave until the baby arrives, they don't even have to alert anyone that she's in labor except the hospital itself. Dr. Rolle is cheerful and reassuring, telling her she knows her body and she knows her training. Water eases some of the pain when contractions start getting more intense, so she goes in and out of the shower with Shane's help. It's a good thing no one comes by, because they've spent half the day naked, and the skin-to-skin contact soothes her nerves, even if it can't truly offset the pain.
Seven hours in, she dons clothes reluctantly and settles into the passenger seat of the small car they've been assigned for this exact reason. Shane reaches out to take her hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles, and smiling that damn sweet lopsided smile that got them in this situation in the first place.
"Ready to be a mama of two?" he asks softly.
"Can we just fast forward a few hours?" she asks, grimacing as another contraction makes itself felt. Sitting up like this is definitely far more achy than wandering around her home, and she groans.
"If I had that power, sweetheart, I'd have already hit the button."
Putting the car in gear, they head along the winding roads to the tiny community hospital to make themselves a family of four.
Just as the sun drops below the horizon in the west, five hours after they went to the hospital, Beth's messy and squalling son is placed on her chest, scooped from the water of the birthing pool by Shane's own hands while Dr. Rolle hovers, just in case. She'd been so scared, nearly two years ago, to consider Judith hers, because eventually someone was going to wise up and decide she was too young to raise someone else's baby, she was sure. This time, she looks into slate-blue eyes, and it's her entire world, settled in her arms, and no one can ever take him away.
Tentatively touching the damp, dark hair that she knows will curl in time, just like Judith's, she cries.
In joy, that he's here safely at last.
In sorrow, that neither her father nor mother are here to witness it.
Shane is beside her now, ceding his place to Dr. Rolle for all that follows the baby's successful birth. The semi-nudity in Shane's case and complete nudity in Beth's means that the only one of their family in with them is Carol, who kneels outside the pool, rubbing Beth's back. Beth can hear Carol outright cooing over her shoulder, admiring the baby in that softly fierce way of hers.
Carol is no dove. She'll protect this boy as fiercely as any child she considers hers.
Perhaps Beth does have a mother here, a parent, and she knows that Annette would approve of Carol, just as Hershel did.
The thought slides the final decision she'd been holding off on the baby's name into place, and when she reluctantly looks away from the baby, she's surprised to see that Shane's attention is on her instead of their son. He leans in and kisses her gently on the forehead as if she were made of fragile glass.
"You are fucking amazing," he tells her, his voice hoarse. He's crying, too, nothing as dramatic as her tears, but the emotions have ahold of him just like her. "So fucking amazing."
It's a mantra he repeated when labor got really hard. She's his badass, a warrior, the strongest person he's ever met. Maybe she should loan him out as a doula to the other ladies of the island, but for now, she's content to drift her head against his bare chest.
"Eoin Charles. His name is Eoin Charles."
Carol makes a different sort of noise behind Beth, and Beth knows she's made the connection. It may honor Carl, and the little brother role he's had for Beth for years now, but more than that, it acknowledges Carol's fierceness and just how far she was willing to go to ensure Beth's safety. Charles. Warrior. It's the alternate meaning of Carol's name that describes her far better than 'song' does.
The first name isn't a surprise to Shane, who already knew, girl or boy, their child's first name would be a variant of his own. It honors him as a father, the woman who raised Shane, and the doctor who mentored Beth in her medical career all at once. Scooping up the island's Irish heritage into it is just the icing on the cake.
They can't stay in the pool forever, with Dr. Rolle urging them out to the birthing stool for the less pleasant parts to be completed. Carol wraps a warm blanket around her, Shane, and the baby, sneaking in a kiss against Beth's cheek. Then she bustles out of the room to reassure their family, who have probably taken over the entire lobby area to hold vigil.
Shane murmurs soft 'love yous' and presses kisses between her and Eoin, who rouses enough about his new world to nurse. It brings home the reality completely, and she finds herself weeping again once she's settled into the hospital bed with Eoin.
"We have a son, Shane," she mutters softly.
"Yeah, baby. We have a strong, healthy son, all thanks to you."
She's so tired now, the work is all done, and Eoin is safe with Shane, so she sleeps.
There's a little bed for the baby, the kind hospitals use to transport babies from room to nursery and back, but Shane can't manage to put Eoin down. Dr. Rolle is the kindest doctor Shane's ever known, working around both parents' clinginess to each other and Eoin to get vitals and necessities done. Then he disappears through a door where Shane knows Rolle will sleep tonight, because the elderly man adores Beth and calls her nieta, while Beth calls him padushi. He thinks they find it easier to classify themselves as grandparent and grandchild, with the losses they've tallied between them, instead of father and daughter.
Whatever Carol does outside the room means Eoin is over an hour old before anyone ventures inside, and he can't help tensing when it's Maggie. Her face is red and blotchy, showing signs she has recently cried, and he doesn't miss that she flicks her gaze right past him to where Beth is sleeping soundly, clad in one of his t-shirts as a makeshift nightgown. He doesn't stop Maggie when she drifts by him to stand at the foot of the bed, much like Beth did back in Hilltop when their positions were reversed.
"She's breathing. The baby came, and she's still breathing."
The statement startles Shane, and for the first time, he really registers the depth of the trauma Maggie carries with her. It's easy to understand Beth's nightmares, where she relives Hershel's death, but Beth didn't actually see Judith's birth. Maggie is barely in her twenties, and she delivered Judith safely into the world under conditions no one should bring a baby into. Even though she's crying again, Shane hesitates to offer comfort, the way he would for just about anyone else. He wonders how the hell they let Maggie come along, without Glenn or Carol, who know how to handle Maggie's grief.
"It was an easy birth, the doctor says."
Maggie flinches at his voice, even as softly as he speaks, gripping the foot of the bed for balance. The sisters were so close in due date that Maggie is due any day now herself, her body off-center with the heavy weight of Eoin's cousin. She doesn't look at him at all, not even to steal a glance at the baby. Her lack of curiosity worries him a little.
"You have a nephew. Seven pounds, nine ounces." Remembering the argument over the possible name, Shane adds, "Eoin Charles."
That gains Shane a fraction of her attention, just enough for her to get her first look at Eoin. His hair is starting to stick up in multiple directions now that it's dry, and the warmth of the room means he's clad in just a diaper and onesie. Tiny fingers flex as Eoin tries to track Shane's voice in a way that makes him thrill. All that talking to Beth's belly helps Eoin know he's safe here in this crazy new world.
Swallowing hard, Maggie shivers. "He looks like Judith."
"Would you like to hold him?" He isn't sure where the offer comes from, but somehow, he thinks Maggie needs to hold Eoin and count fingers and toes and little puffs of breath more than he and Beth do.
Standing, Shane offers the rocking chair to her, relieved when she settles into it without an argument. He eases Eoin into her arms, with the baby ending up perched a bit on the swell of her belly. She's careful with Eoin, smoothing his hair and letting him grip a finger. Wisely, Shane doesn't comment when tears flow silently down Maggie's face.
"She could have named him Hershel. Daddy would have hated me being selfish about his name."
Shane shrugs, thinking of the name debate and not sure how much to share with Maggie. "She remembered Carl naming Judith, to give her something of her own with less weight to it."
Perhaps Eoin's name does honor Shane's grandmother, among others, but it's a long ago passing, one gone peacefully in a way neither of Beth's parents died. He's glad Beth decided against Hershel for a boy, although he would have honored her wishes if she'd clung to it. Shane doesn't know what Maggie and Glenn have in mind, since he and Glenn carefully ignore the chasm between their wives.
Maggie rocks, looking between Eoin and Beth, before sighing. "Glenn says you're good with kids. All the way back to the quarry."
"I've always liked kids. Did the school programs when the sheriff's department was asked." Finding someone he could share his life with, who could live with the rigid schedules, constant overtime, and inherent risk of being a cop's wife never felt like an urgent need. He'd seen what the job did to Rick and Lori's marriage.
"He likes you, but I just..." Maggie leans in, kissing Eoin's hair as the baby yawns widely. "I can't forget what you did to Otis. I don't know how Beth does."
"I won't speak for how that happened for her, but I'm sure she'd explain if you asked nicely."
His emphasis on 'nicely' gets him a direct look for the first time. It's bitter and sharp, but either the inevitable tiredness of her late-stage pregnancy or holding the baby stays the sharp side of her tongue. He takes advantage of it to raise the truce flag between them, hoping she'll accept it.
"I don't ask you to forget or forgive, Maggie. I did what I did to save Carl, and I imagine I'm going to answer for it one day. But it sure would be nice if you could tolerate me just enough that the boys and Judith get to grow up together like cousins should."
She doesn't answer him, just rocks Eoin and watches Beth, and he lets her be.
Eventually, Carol returns, coaxing Maggie away to rest. Shane follows them to the lobby with Eoin in his arms so the rest of the family can meet the baby while Beth sleeps. He's properly admired by everyone, although Judith obviously doesn't understand the concept of brother, not yet. That'll come in time, and Shane imagines she'll be fiercely protective of Eoin.
The next morning, they return home and settle into life with a toddler and a newborn, which is just as tiring as he figured it would be. It's also joyful to watch Judith's fascination with Eoin develop, and the rest of the family find excuses to come by and help. Help almost always involves holding Eoin for a bit, somehow, but Beth seems content with that, so Shane is, too.
Neither he nor Beth knew the significance of Eoin's birthday, other than Beth's giggling about it being Friday the thirteenth. It isn't Daryl who enlightens them, but Michonne, who smiles sorrowfully down at the baby in Daryl's arms before pressing a kiss to Daryl's perpetually messy hair.
"Yesterday would've been Merle's birthday, Beth. Daryl was really damn excited to become an uncle again on that day of all days."
"Gonna find the boy a black cat," Daryl mutters. "None of that hockey mask shit, though."
Beth giggles, nudging her way to Daryl's side and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "I dunno. You called Judith Lil Asskicker. You're gonna deprive Eoin of a similar nickname?"
No one believes the glare Daryl tries to give Beth. He turns his attention back to Eoin and his crooked half grin flickers into being. "This one is gonna be Thirteen."
'Thirteen' is going to be as spoiled rotten by his uncle as Judith is, Shane thinks. None of them comment on the dampness on Daryl's face, or the fact that he holds Eoin through his entire nap, only giving him up when it's time for Eoin to eat again.
Their household is down to two dogs now, and to no one's surprise, Biscuit and Muffin adapt to Eoin easily. One or the other is always nearby if someone other than Shane or Beth is holding Eoin, as they might leave with the baby, and he supposes it makes sense in a doggy fashion. Their own offspring did relocate to other households, although none of them went far. Shane doesn't go more than a day or two without seeing them romping along with someone from their extended family.
Before sunrise on Eoin's third day in the world, knocking wakes everyone up. Glenn looks apologetic as he shifts anxiously on the porch. "Maggie's in labor. She asked if Beth would come with her."
It's the first sign that anything Shane said got through to Maggie. She hasn't come by to spend time with the baby, although with the advanced state of her pregnancy, he can't blame her for sticking close to her cozy home down closer to town. He told Beth about the visit, and he didn't miss the yearning and hopeful look that crossed her face before being squashed resolutely away.
That look is back now, along with a bright and beaming smile that belies the fact that she was up two hours ago to nurse Eoin. "Of course I'll go, Glenn. Let me get dressed."
It doesn't go as quickly as that, not with Eoin deciding if he's awake, he's hungry, and to Shane's surprise, Maggie leaves the car and ventures inside the cabin. She looks around curiously before settling into the recliner Shane normally sits in. Glenn flutters around her like one of Beth's little hummingbirds, anxious and unsettled, until she finally huffs at him after a contraction.
"I'm thinking there was something to the old practice of getting new fathers drunk as skunks," Maggie says. "We've got hours to go."
Abashed, Glenn does manage to sit down, after fetching Maggie something to drink. He distracts himself by petting Muffin, while Maggie sips the lemonade methodically. Her attention is all on Beth, which is fine with Shane. He coaxes a cranky Judith back to bed only by promising she can sleep in his and Beth's room. Biscuit follows them, foregoing his usual spot near the door to hop onto the foot of the bed and creep up until Judith's tiny bare feet are resting against his solid form. He protects Judith's sleep the same way he protected Shane's, and there are far fewer nightmares to chase away with his new favorite person.
She's so tiny and so sturdy at the same time, a rough and tumble toddler who will never stop reminding him of Lori. But tonight he's content to sit beside her on the bed, waiting to be summoned to look after Eoin, and watching the rise and fall of her chest as she sleeps. Thinking he could never be her father nearly broke him beyond repair. Thinking she was gone forever would have killed him if not for Beth.
Instead, he's here, with the sun starting to shine across the Atlantic and the strange and unknown world beyond those waters, and he has all the family he'll ever need. He survived it all, and this is his reward.
Beth comes into the bedroom with Eoin in her arms, and as she passes Eoin over to him, she smiles sweetly.
"You good?"
It takes him a couple of tries to clear his throat for a proper answer, and his voice is still deep and husky with the wealth of emotion rolling over him. "Yeah, baby, I'm good."
He knows she meant is he okay with her leaving him here with the kids, but there's a deeper meaning hitting him just now.
Because Shane is good, despite all the mistakes and wrong paths, despite the scars and everything that says he shouldn't be. He's here with his family, and he's loved, and he'll continue to do better every day to make up for what he did wrong. His path isn't one leading to evil, not anymore.
Yeah, Shane's good.
A/N: that's all, folks. I hope y'all enjoyed this unique little spin on romance in the ZA as much as I did. Shane and Beth will return again as a couple, I promise, in other tales.