A/N: Super glad you guys enjoyed the last one! It was fun to write. Not gonna lie, I got a little carried away with the first parts of this chapter, so this is a bit long. But whatever, I like it. I really hope you do, too! -Ash
14: it's your birth day
"Carl!" Michonne called for him as she held the front door open for their visitor, allowing her inside. "He'll be right out."
Jamie Barnes, their young, affable neighbor, who also happened to be Carl's girlfriend, smiled politely as she stepped inside the Grimes' household for what had to be the hundredth time. "Thank you, Mrs. Grimes."
Michonne headed back towards the kitchen, where she'd been finishing up the large meal she had prepared for the day. "I hate to make you work just because you're the first one," she directed to the teenager, "but could you do me a favor and open that door for me?"
"Oh, yes, ma'am." Jamie quickly moved to the back door, opening it up to the patio for Michonne. "Can I help you with anything else?"
Michonne picked up a large crockpot full of chili and waddled towards her. "If you could grab the bowls and start setting them up…"
"Sure," she nodded apprehensively. Something about the woman made her nervous, but she liked her a lot, and was eager to please. She quickly collected as many glass bowls as she could carry and followed Carl's mom to the patio.
Outside, Rick had already been in the backyard for nearly an hour, and Michonne joined him once she dropped off her chili. "Looking good," she noted, examining the pit he'd been working on.
He looked up at her, pleased with his work as well. "It's not as cold as I thought it'd be out here, but they'll have fun," he nodded. "And you should be wearing a jacket."
"Trust me, I'm hot out here," she sighed, wiping at her brow. "I feel like a giant ball of sweat."
He stood to give her a kiss on her forehead, turning just in time to see Carl come outside. "Hey, birthday boy."
"Hey, Dad," he called back in a voice deeper than Rick even wanted to acknowledge. "You wanted me, Michonne?"
"I was just letting you know Jamie was here."
He nodded and headed back inside, where his girlfriend was apparently helping to set up for his party. "You don't have to do that, you know," he informed her with a small smile. "My parents have it."
She looked up at Carl and shook her head. "Your mom is like eleven months pregnant and your dad just took down a bunch of those biters at the gates. You're the one that should be helping."
"Excuse you, but I cleaned this whole place from top to bottom this morning." He gave Jamie an awkward hug as he continued to argue his point. "And Michonne is only about eight months pregnant, so let's not get crazy."
"Carl…"
"Okay, okay, I'm helping." He grabbed the napkins and utensils to bring outside, only to find Rick and Michonne wrapped up in one another. He quickly diverted his eyes before he could figure out whether or not they were kissing. "You guys can't do this in front of people," he yelled.
"I think it's cute," Jamie was smiling at the older couple as she placed a large pan of cornbread next to the crockpot.
"You wouldn't if they belonged to you," he rolled his eyes. He headed into the yard to see what their new bonfire pit looked like.
"Your friends will be here soon, you might wanna start getting the chairs and blankets together," Rick told him as he approached.
"I thought you were doing all the work," Carl smirked.
"I most certainly am not," Rick quirked an eyebrow as he held onto Michonne's hand. "You can either do this, or you can go pick up your cake from Carol's."
"Can I take the golf cart?" his eyes brightened at the thought of being able to drive alone, even if it was just to the end of the block.
"You sure can't," Michonne replied with a shake of her head. "I don't know why you keep asking."
"What if Jamie comes with me?"
"That sounds like an actual disaster waiting to happen," Rick declined, beginning to help Michonne back towards the house.
"I'm a good driver."
"And you're an even better chair-mover, I bet."
As they returned inside, Jamie moved to join Carl in the grass. "Why on earth are you so difficult with them?"
"Because it's fun," he grinned. With his hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie, he looked around his yard in satisfaction. "This was a good idea you had, JB."
She smiled proudly, wrapping an arm around his nonexistent waist. "I always wanted to have a bonfire party, back before…"
"I don't think I was cool enough to have one back before."
"I find that hard to believe," she returned softly as her light brown eyes locked with his bright blue ones. That was exactly what she liked about Carl, he was always calm, cool, collected. He was much more mature than the other kids, even the ones older than him.
"Trust me," he chuckled. "You wouldn't have looked at me twice back in the old days."
"You never know. Maybe I have a thing for dorky white boys."
He smirked at the insult, as this was how Michonne teased his dad sometimes. "Very funny." He turned back to the house to make sure his parents weren't looking and gave Jamie a quick kiss on her cheek. "I like you, too."
Back inside, Michonne and Rick were puttering around the kitchen, readying the rest of the food for Carl's party. She shook her head as she watched the happy teenaged couple outside, attempting to be affectionate. She always thought Jamie to be very pretty - beautiful skin, the color of caramel, a slender face with almond shaped eyes of the same shade, and she always wore her curly black hair in an adorable puff at the top of her head. But she noticed Jamie was a good influence on him, too. She was a smart, thoughtful girl, that seemed just as engaged with her family as Carl was with his. They complemented each other well.
"He is so your kid," she smiled at Rick, seeing his son sneak a kiss to his girlfriend.
Rick stopped putting marshmallows on sticks to look outside with his wife. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means whatever you think it means."
He eyed her suspiciously and went back to his task. "Where did you find marshmallows, anyway?"
"Glenn got 'em on a run a few weeks ago. Said they were saving them for a rainy day."
Rick smiled, as only Glenn would be able to pull something like that off. "When are they gettin' here?"
"I told Maggie to bring Judith back around six, so I suppose they'll all come around then."
He nodded. "I know I don't have to thank you, but I'm gonna do it anyway," he told her seriously. "The amount of effort you've put into making this special for Carl... it means a lot."
"Rick... You really, really don't have to thank me."
"I wasn't sure he would get to celebrate another birthday. Not like this. Not to mention the fact that he was actually excited about having a party."
"Only because Jamie suggested it," Michonne smirked.
Rick chuckled quietly to himself. He would've done the exact same at Carl's age. "He's growin' up so fast," he sighed. "I don't even see a fifteen-year-old when I look at him."
"I knew the day I met him that he wasn't like the other kids. That's not necessarily a bad thing."
"No, it's not," he agreed. "I've needed him to be both an adult and a kid for a long time now and he's been up to the task. I'm just glad he can finally have some of his childhood back."
"Trust me, he knows exactly when and how to be a kid. Particularly, when it's time to mow the lawn, wash the dishes..."
"Can you even believe these are the things we worry about now?" he laughed. "That we have a house to take care of?"
"No, I really can't," she laughed too. "When the world ended, I never thought I'd be standing on the other side, married with almost three kids." As her thoughts wandered to how far she'd come, how far they'd come, tears formed in her eyes. "Goddamn it."
"Oh god." She had cried so much in her last trimester, it was becoming a running joke that she could clear a room with her tears. And indeed, Rick had grabbed the second crockpot and was out of the door before she could utter another word.
The sun was long gone and nice chill had washed over the mid-November night. Carl and Jamie, along with all their other friends, sat around the bonfire in the Grimes' backyard, enjoying roasted marshmallows under their blankets as they played a round of truth or dare.
Meanwhile, inside, the adults were having their card night, as they tended to do on Saturday evenings, switching houses from week to week. Michonne had chosen Spades as their game of the week, and there were three games going in the cozy living room of their home. The first game included the two hosts against Daryl and Sasha; then Maggie and Glenn against Abraham and Rosita; and finally, Carol and Tyreese battling their new friend Kim, and her husband, Adam.
It was turning out to be quite the lovely evening for them as well. Even if they didn't have a bonfire, their fireplace had a nice bit of warmth radiating from it, and Michonne had made a batch of hot chocolate from a few old Hershey bars, while the guys were enjoying beers along with their cornbread and chili. If a TV had been on somewhere in the house, the whole thing would've been indecipherable from the days before the turn.
"Hey Rick, did you ever finish up the nursery?" Sasha wondered as she shuffled through her hand. She remembered he and Daryl had been working on it before the expansion and the two of them ended up moving in together.
"Yeah, it's just about done," he looked up from his cards at her. "Michonne tried to convince me to just go ahead and paint it pink, but I don't know how much faith I have in her hunch," he chuckled.
"A woman's intuition is pretty strong," she argued, flashing a smile at the expectant mother.
"Yeah, well I'd like a second opinion before I spend an entire afternoon on that."
"Y'all got any names yet?" Daryl inserted curiously.
"I have a different name every day," Michonne rolled her eyes at her own indecisiveness. "It's ridiculous, really."
"We've been through every author she loves, every name in the Bible, every TV character," Rick shook his head with a tired smile. "I figure it'll just come to us when he or she gets here."
"She," Michonne corrected him.
"Well, if you need some help, Sasha is lovely name," Sasha grinned proudly. "And it means 'protector,' just in case you're into meanings."
"I thought you wanted us to name our baby Sasha," Maggie piped up from the table across from them.
The rest of them laughed as they realized Sasha was just putting her hat in every ring she could. "It didn't seem like you were very receptive to the idea, so..."
"You and Daryl oughta save it for your own kid," Michonne joked, looking over to Daryl with her big beautiful smile on display. She knew exactly how much he hated it when she teased him about their friendship.
"Ain't nobody havin' kids in our house," he mumbled back at her as he flicked a card to the pile in the middle of the table.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. You're just friends."
"But unlike when you and Rick said it, we actually mean it," Sasha answered for him. "We are just roommates."
"Uh huh."
"It is possible for two adults of opposing genders to have a totally platonic relationship, you know."
"Well," Rick chimed in, "there's Maggie and Glenn, Abe and Rosita, Carol and Tyreese, me and Michonne... it seems like we're proving that theory false."
"Y'all ain't got no self control," Daryl declared teasingly. "Don't put that on us."
Michonne looked up from where she was tallying the score and glared at Daryl. "Are you implying that Rick and I are only together because of sex?"
"Tell me that ain't how it started."
"If you must know, it started with a deep, emotional connection. We were both recovering from great loss, and maybe we weren't doing so great with it. But we saw salvation in one another. We saw an end to the loneliness. We saw how easily we communicated without any words at all," she explained passionately. "And that's how it started."
"That's beautiful," Sasha smiled.
"And the sex," Rick submitted, looking over to Daryl.
Michonne shot him a bird and a smile from across the table. "I'm not gonna forget this, Grimes."
"I'm positive you won't," he chuckled.
"I'm gonna tell you a secret," Sasha intimated, cheekily looking back and forth between the two of them. "When Carol first told us you guys were feeling each other, I might've been a tiny bit jealous?"
They both looked at her, stunned. "Of who?" Rick laughed.
"Of Michonne," she replied as if it were obvious; as if any of them had any inkling that she ever liked Rick. "I might've had a tiny, insignificant, sliver of a crush on you? Maybe?"
Even Daryl didn't know that one, and he could read most people better than they could themselves. "Is that right?"
She nodded in feigned embarrassment. "It went away after a while, but I was lowkey heartbroken for, like, an afternoon."
"That is hilarious," Michonne was giggling at the information. "I was jealous of you for about a day, too."
"Me?"
She nodded. "Rick told me he was taking you on a run, and it was gonna be just the two of you."
"Oh yeah, I remember that one. Geez, that was almost a year ago," she marveled at how quickly time had flown. "That was when I noticed how much he liked you."
"Well I was sitting at the prison with Carl, hating every minute that you two were gone," she laughed at herself. "It was so silly, how mad I was at you."
"Our first time was the night before that, so she was understandably smitten," Rick noted with a cocky grin.
"You are really pushing it tonight," Michonne playfully warned him with widened eyes. "And how many books do you have?"
He gave her a wink and was about to start counting when Carl came into the house looking for his parents.
"We're out of food," he announced, surveying their tables for anything he could take back outside.
"Sounds like you're outta luck," Michonne smirked, noting how cold he looked, with his red cheeks and nose. "And where's your coat?"
"I'm fine," he shook his head. "We have our blankets."
"Y'all oughta be comin' in soon," Rick told him, glancing at their wall clock that read 10:20. "I told parents I'd have their kids home by eleven."
Carl nodded a bit disappointedly, but understood. The people in their neighborhood couldn't decide whether to be overly cautious or disturbingly nonchalant. His dad was helping them find a balance between the two. "I'll go get everybody."
"I should go get the cake together," Michonne nodded.
"Make sure you put that fire out with water," Rick reminded him as his son headed back towards the patio door. With a sigh, Michonne lifted herself from her chair to retrieve Carl's cake, but Rick immediately stopped her. "I can do the cake," he hopped up. "You sit down."
"Rick, I'm not handicapped."
"Yeah, but you've been on your feet all day-"
"And so have you," she shot back before he could go on.
"I'm not pregnant."
"Yeah, but you're old," she stuck her tongue out, beginning to waddle to the kitchen.
"She hangs out with Carl too much," he told the rest of their table with a shake of his head, following after her.
She had removed the top of the cake plate to reveal a beautiful two-tier chocolate cake, covered in icing of the same flavor. "Has Carol been hiding chocolate from me all this time?"
"I'm not sure if 'hiding' is the word I would use," he chuckled, locating the candles in one of their junk drawers. He moved behind her, enveloping her in his arms, leaving a soft kiss on her cherubic face. He didn't care if everyone there was watching, he simply wanted her all the time. "You look so beautiful tonight," he whispered.
She smiled to herself, aware of just how lucky she was to have a husband that told her she was beautiful, even at her sweaty, bloated, trapped gassy worst. She still felt sexy in his arms, which amazed her. She swiped a small dollop of the chocolate from the plate and licked some of it from her finger, offering the rest to Rick. He happily accepted, his lips holding onto her finger with a gentle suck for a little longer than necessary.
"Just nasty," she shook her head in amusement.
He added the candles to the cake as she moved to wash her hands, and all of the kids came bursting into the house. "All right, the gang's all here," Rick declared, leading them all to the living room, where the adults were situated.
He set the cake down, lighting its candles while everyone allowed Carl, followed by Jamie, to the center of the group. Rick and Michonne stood on either side of them, watching proudly, and Carol entered the room with a sleepy Judith just as they all broke out into a chorus of the Birthday Song.
As they were rounding the corner from the third 'Happy birthday to you,' Michonne found herself standing in a small puddle. No one else seemed to notice, as her long dress covered most of the spill, but she definitely felt like she had just peed on herself. "Shit," she whispered quietly.
Carl heard her, though, beneath the loudness of their family and friends, and looked over to her worriedly. "What's wrong?" he mouthed.
She was frowning, and as much as she didn't want to alarm him, she had to say something. "My water just broke."
After a lot of commotion at the Grimes' house, Rick and Carl were finally able to get Michonne to the infirmary at the front of the Safe Zone. They'd actually been sitting there for hours now, helping her through contractions, eating ice chips, and generally doing everything they could to avoid the fact that the three of them were scared to death.
They had been in close contact with the resident doctor, Dr. Cloyd, for the entire time they'd been in Alexandria, and she assured them that things were going to be fine. But that didn't help their terror. Rick was doing his best to stay calm, mainly for Carl and Michonne, but inside, his heart was beating out of his chest. Carl, meanwhile, couldn't sit still - he paced around the large room as if he had ants in his pants. And Michonne, who was arguably the most collected of them all in most situations, was jittery whenever she wasn't in the midst of a contraction.
"Carl, you have to sit down. You're making me nervous."
"You're making me nervous," he shot back, agitated. "Why are you shaking?"
"Carl," Rick cut in tersely. "Sit."
With a loud sigh, he sat on the other side of Michonne's bed and stared at the wall. "Does it always take this long?" Even worse than the thought that Michonne was about to die was the anticipation of it. It was torture in its rarest and sickest form.
"Your mother was in labor for twenty-two hours with you," Rick informed him. "I guarantee you, you have the easy part."
"That's an entire day!" he nearly shouted. "Why would anyone do that?"
Michonne looked at him as if he were every bit as insane as he sounded. "Gonna go out on a limb and say she didn't have a choice."
"Seriously? Twenty-two hours?"
"Andre only took four," she supplied, glaring at him. "Maybe it depends on how difficult the kid is."
Rick snorted to himself. "You can go back home if you want, Carl. We can handle it."
"No," he returned adamantly. "We're a family. We do this as a family."
We sure as hell get on each other's nerves as one, Michonne thought to herself. She let out a shaky sigh as she laid back in her bed. "Is there anymore ice?"
Rick examined the plastic bowls beside him and shook his head. "I'll go get you some more."
"I'll do it," Carl offered quickly. He was gone from the room before his father could decline.
"He's driving me crazy," Michonne looked over to Rick calmly, in total contradiction of the words she spoke. "I'm going to strangle him."
"He's nervous," Rick defended quietly, looking down at the tiled floor. "He's not used to that."
"I'm not either."
"It's gonna be fine."
"You have no idea whether that's true," she knew. He wasn't fidgeting, but the look on his face said everything he was feeling.
"How do you feel?" his eyes narrowed at her questioningly.
"Okay, I guess," she shrugged.
No sooner than the words escaped her lips, another contraction went tearing through her body and she let out a low scream as she reached blindly for Rick's hand. He was quick to oblige, allowing her to squeeze as hard as she needed to until the pain subsided. He kept an eye on his watch, noting that this one was lasting over a minute, and she looked to be in excruciating agony.
As Carl returned to the room with her bowlful of ice, Rick sent him right back out. "Tell Dr. Cloyd her contractions are getting longer."
He immediately dropped the bowl and followed orders as Michonne's pain finally began to lessen. She started to quiver again as her breathing returned to normal. "Rick, I am so fucking scared," she admitted out loud and to herself. "If anything happens and you have to choose between me and the baby…"
"Shh." He still held onto her hand, bringing it to his lips to cover in kisses. "Don't talk like that."
"I have to."
"You don't have to say it," he assured her somberly. As a parent, he knew his only job in the world was to keep his kids alive. He knew that she knew that too.
Tears were running down her face as she came to the realization that these could be her final moments on Earth. It was a very real possibility that she could die having this baby.
"Please don't cry," he pleaded, wiping her face with the thumb of his free hand. "We're gonna be fine."
She nodded, but continued to cry silently. She simply couldn't help it.
The door to their room swung open and in walked their doctor. Denise Cloyd, in all their meetings, seemed like a capable doctor, very smart, and had a warm bedside manner, which they were thankful for, seeing how beggars couldn't be choosers. A sense of calm washed over the room when she entered. "Okay, how's my favorite couple doing?" she smiled at both of them.
"They're getting closer together," Rick informed her nervously. "And longer."
"And more intense?" she asked Michonne.
"That last one…" She shook her head as she wiped at her face, still reeling from the pain.
"Those are hopefully good signs," Dr. Cloyd nodded, taking a seat at the foot of Michonne's bed. She pulled on a pair of gloves as Carl joined the three of them, as well as Dr. Cloyd's assistant, Heath. "You got everything sterilized?" she asked her assistant.
"All ready," he nodded confidently.
The doctor began to examine Michonne, happy to find that she was fully dilated and likely ready to go. "You guys ready to have a baby?" she looked up to the family.
The three of them looked amongst one another hesitantly. It wasn't like they had a choice in the matter, but if they could have prolonged the moment, they certainly would have.
"Carl, you really don't have to stay," Michonne offered for him one more time. "I would totally understand."
He shook his head again. He thought he didn't want to be there for it, but if the situation was reversed and his life was the one in danger, Michonne would have been right by his side. "We're a family," he reminded her.
She smiled at him proudly and then looked up at Rick. "This is it," she sighed.
He still hadn't let go of her hand, and now, he gave it an encouraging squeeze. "This is it," he repeated in agreement.
Dr. Cloyd offered a reassuring smile to the family and began to pull a table full of tools towards their bed. "You guys will probably wanna stay above her waist," she joked, hoping to ease their obvious tension.
Carl frowned at the suggestion. "Why?"
"Just trust her," Rick told him with a small smile.
"All right, Rick, you've been through this before. Hold her hand, keep her calm, be encouraging. You know the drill," Dr. Cloyd coached him from behind her surgical mask. "Carl, I need you wiping her face, okay? No sweat, no tears. And Michonne, we'll do all the work down here. Sound good?" The three of them nodded. "Good."
Michonne closed her eyes and waited for the doctor's instructions.
"Michonne, on three, I need you to push."
"Okay."
"One. Two. Three."
Michonne silently used all of her might to push her baby through, feeling an almost blinding pain as she attempted to propel the new life forward. It felt like someone had taken a knife and was slicing at her pelvis. "Fuck!" she yelled when she knew she couldn't go any further.
"All right, hold on for me a sec."
Dr. Cloyd was calm, but when she called Heath over, Michonne knew that something was wrong. "What is it," she demanded.
Rick could feel it too, the pain Michonne was in, followed by the look on the doctor's face. "Please just tell us."
"No need to panic," she promised them. "But I do need you to stop pushing. The baby is in a breech position right now." Instead of the head, she could clearly see the buttocks coming down first. It wasn't an impossible situation, but for their limited tools and her limited experience, it certainly wasn't ideal.
Michonne could feel the tears stinging the backs of her eyes, but she refused to let them come out. She needed to be strong here – for her baby, for Rick, and for Carl. As much as she wanted to break, this was the moment she had to do the exact opposite. She looked at her husband regretfully, silently begging him to forgive her for what she was about to say. "I need you to take Carl out of here," she told him softly.
"What?" he glanced back at her in disbelief. There was no way he was leaving.
"Please," she kept her eyes on him, letting him know she was not wavering in this. "I won't let this happen to him again."
"Michonne…"
"We put our kids first," she reminded him solemnly. "Not again."
Rick's blue eyes immediately reddened and were wet with tears, and he so badly wanted to argue, but it certainly wasn't the time or place. If this was what she needed, if this was what she thought Carl needed, his job was to make that happen. He kissed her forehead gently, staring into her eyes, and then studying her face. He had no idea what was on the other side of this, but he desperately needed to believe he would see her again, so he didn't say any words that would feel like a goodbye. He and Carl simply left.