Got motor mouth on this one. OOPS.
In those last few days, before Carol gave birth, he couldn't help but look at her like she was a walking miracle. She was carrying his baby, it seemed like something like that could never happen to him.
He heard Maggie talking to Andrea about pregnancy making women look like they were glowing but in his opinion, that was a bunch of crap. Carol had been sick for the first half, violently vomiting almost every day. She'd gotten frailer, skinnier, weaker. The baby was sucking the life out of her and he found himself hating it before it was even born. It was half of him, his fault and it was killing her.
By the time she'd started showing, her stomach swelling up but her face and limbs getting thinner, the vomiting had eased but she was instead plagued with a bad back, nausea and migraines that lasted for days.
She'd tried to hide it, he knew she hated the feeling of uselessness, but he could tell. She was in agony. And there was nothing he could do to help.
Daryl couldn't believe that they'd been this stupid. To let himself get carried away with her and to put this on her. They could barely cope with Judith when they had her. Then they lost her and it fucking devastated them all. Who were they fooling to think they could do this again?
He didn't want this baby. He never voiced the thought, not to anyone. He knew how that would go down. Not just because they'd struggled so hard with Judith. But this baby was killing Carol. Just a few days and she was due to give birth and Hershel had given him the talk.
He'd listened to her as she told the old man the trouble she'd had with Sophia. Unnamed babies that didn't see the light of day. He didn't understand the issues entirely, but he didn't need to. He could read the veterinarian's face. There was a good chance that Carol would go the same way Lori did.
It would fill him with shame later on, but he didn't hesitate to ask Hershel if he could perform an abortion with reasonable safety. He couldn't. So they had to see if through, in some vague hope that Carol would make it. He still wasn't sure if he wanted the added bonus of a healthy baby. Because it seemed kinder, not just for the baby, or for Carol, but for him too, to not have to deal with a child that would inevitably get taken from them by Walkers.
He'd spent months prepping for it. He went out every single day, traveled further than was safe to get what was necessary. He would not let her suffer the same fate as Lori. They were unprepared for Judith. It would not happen again.
Her waters broke early. He'd not been there, but by all accounts she'd been doing the dishes when it'd had happened. By the time he'd gotten in from his hunt, Beth was barking orders at him in a manner most unlike her, commanding him to wash up before he was allowed into the room.
He didn't even want to go into the room. Took his time to scrub every little bit of dirt from his hands, digging right under his fingernails. They'd not discussed where he would be when she gave birth, but he didn't figure he'd be in the room. But somehow, his feet moved him to the door way, watching Carol groan in agony, clutching Beth's hand.
The young girl looked on grimly, but didn't protest to having her hand squeezed to the point where bones could be broken. And then Daryl realised, there was no-one else in their group who had experienced childbirth before. No-one knew how she felt, physically or mentally.
It was enough to push him further into the room, to brush Beth aside and take his place beside her. She took his hand quickly, turned her head and gave him a thin lipped smile.
"This baby is gonna be as impatient as you, I can tell." Carol groaned out and Hershel instructed her to do something else he didn't hear.
She'd turned white in the hours it took for the baby to come. A sickly pale shade, with a cold sweat running over her skin. He tried not to look worried, but he didn't really know if it was normal. She told him to go, could see he was struggling with it all, his utter silence through the entire day.
He just held her hand tight, wiped her brow every now and then, held a glass of water to her lips when she asked for it.
And just as the sun started to go down, Hershel called it time. Sent Beth to get more towels and water and instructed Carol to push.
The screams were inhuman and Daryl felt like screaming with her. The panic lodged it's self in his throat as Hershel told them he could see the baby's head.
"Hold her legs apart." The man demanded and Daryl took Carol's knee in his free hand, held it firmly. He hadn't intended to look, down there, the idea alone had bile coming up, but he'd gotten a glimpse and was mesmerized.
His baby. It's head was free and as Carol pushed, screaming as she did, the baby joined her, wailing heartily.
Covered in blood and white stuff for which he had no name, Hershel pulled the baby free and everything happened so fast he didn't even have time to panic. The squalling baby was thrust onto Carol's chest and both she and Daryl jumped to hold the baby firmly onto her skin. A boy.
"Beth, we've got some tearing here, once the placenta is out, we're going to stitch up." Hershel muttered to his daughter.
Carol was panting but she smiled up at him and he couldn't help but return it. "Told you it was a boy." He murmured and she only scoffed back.
"Daryl, I need you to cut the cord."
He was thrust into work without even a moment to embrace the fact that both Carol and the baby were fine.
It was hours later, once Carol was stitched and cleaned up. The baby washed and checked over, before they'd had any peace. The group had trouped in one by one to greet the new arrival and Daryl had almost told them all to get lost and wait until the morning, when the baby kicked up the biggest fuss ever, sending them all running. Just like a proper Dixon, he'd thought with a smile.
"Thought of any names?" Carol asked, latching the baby to her breast for his second feed. He took to it straight away, little hands plucking at Carol's freckled skin.
"Naw. You?" He reached out and stroked the baby's foot, poking out from the white blanket that he himself had wrapped him in.
"Do you think if I suggested Daryl Junior it would be too much of a cliche?" Carol asked.
He snorted. "We ain't namin' him Daryl. No way."
"I like your name!" Carol protested, shifting the baby a little.
"Yeah and it's mine, I ain't sharin'." He said the words with a laugh in his voice and climbed into the bed beside her, watching the little one. Carol told him that all babies were born with blue eyes and that this baby's would likely stay blue because both he and Carol had them too, but he swore the baby's had changed in the hour.
The little one looked up at him with interest, staring intently as he fed. They'd started out bright, jewel in tone, but now they'd gone more like Carol's. Kid was far better off looking like his mother, in his opinion.
"Well, you're gonna be Daddy from now on, so what you need Daryl for, anyway?" Carol looked at him deadpan for a second and his face must've frozen unintentionally because she broke into laughter. Her chest heaved and the baby grunted in disapproval. "I've been waiting for you to lose it all day."
But she was right. Fuck. He was somebody's daddy. He didn't know how to respond to that. If she'd been inside his head, she'd've been acutely aware of the fact that he'd been losing his shit all damned day. He decided to change the subject back.
"Don't gotta decide yet, though, right?" He asked. His son's eyes had started drooping, his mouth falling slack. His son.
"No. It can wait."
He'd taken the baby from her then, rubbed his back to wind him, remembering how she had taught him with Judith. They didn't have a proper bassinet, but the cot they did have seemed far too big for such a tiny baby. So as Carol drifted off for well-deserved rest, he threw his pillow to the floor and rested the baby between the two of them on the mattress.
How could he have resented this kid? He was perfect.