This is another Bethyl baby prompt from Buttons1721 on AO3...but it's not a whole bunch of fluff this time.
Prompt: Beth never kidnapped. Daryl and her have been living alone since the fall of the prison and now have a baby on the way. Beth dies in childbirth, leaving Daryl alone with the baby.
Beth had been in labor for hours, but still the couple still moved on through the wooded area, trying to come up on some sort of shelter for Beth to give birth in. Luckily, the contractions were still ten minutes apart, but they were getting stronger. Beth would bend over when one would hit, her hand squeezing Daryl's in a vice grip as he instructed her to breathe, biting her lip to keep from screaming out. Every time she would moan in pain, Daryl would slightly panic. He kept his thoughts held inside though, not wanting to place even more stress on her. He did know that if they didn't find someplace soon, Beth would deliver their baby on the filthy forest floor, in true Dixon fashion.
Beth walked slowly, gingerly taking each step, making her waddle even more pronounced. Beth had come to terms with her temporary figure, though in the beginning she hated it. The heavy weight of her stomach made it difficult to run from walkers, but eventually the round belly made her content, as it was a sign that there was a healthy living child still growing inside of her. They had managed to maintain their nutrition, with Daryl hunting every day, and stay hydrated due to the variety of water sources in the wilderness, so Beth was just thankful that things hadn't been terrible. Daryl had loved the changes to her body from the beginning, once he got over his immense fear of being a father. He found that it was true, what everyone said, pregnant women glowed. Her skin radiated beauty, her breasts had grown at least a couple sizes, and due to his primal urges, there was nothing hotter to him than knowing he was the one to make her ripe with child.
"We may as well just find a cave somewhere." Beth sounded incredibly tired, and she had every reason to.
"Come on girl, just a little further. I know we'll find somethin' soon." Daryl pushed her lower back gently, forcing her forward. Beth sighed and continued on beside him.
"Yeah, better be real soon. The contractions are coming sooner, I may have to just pop a squat right here." She was definitely irritated and Daryl wished they would find something, anything, to put her mind at ease.
"Ain't you supposed to be the hopeful one?" He chuckled, desperately trying to lift her spirits.
"Yeah well you try carrying around this thing," she gestured to her stomach "all day long walking around in the middle of nowhere in this damn heat, then being hit with a blinding pain every few minutes!" Daryl winced, clearly having said the wrong thing, once again. He had been doing that a lot lately. He'd say something, Beth would snap back at him, and then later she would cry and apologize, begging him to forgive her for being so mean. If it was affecting to anyone else but him, he would have found her mood swings comical.
"I know, I'm sorry." He found things turned out better when he immediately apologized for his ill-timed comments. Beth mumbled something that sounded vaguely like 'you'd better be' but she did stop her mild verbal assault.
An hour later, when Beth's contractions were now coming only a few minutes apart, they saw in the distance a development of houses. Daryl almost wanted to stop and kiss the dirt ground they walked on. "See, Beth? Just ahead. You can even pick which one we hole up in."
Beth gave him a look, one questioning why he was talking about picking out real estate when she just wanted a couch or bed to lay down on. He shrugged and grabbed her hand, making sure to walk slowly so that Beth could keep up.
Another twenty minutes and five contractions had come and gone by the time they reached the neat rows of houses, that once probably looked all shiny and new, costing a large sum of money, but now they were run down, abandoned, and unwelcoming. Beth immediately walked towards the one closest to them, a two story house with blue peeling paint, white windows, and a bright red door, a very patriotic color scheme. Daryl ran ahead of her and put a hand on her chest to stop her. "Let me clear it first."
Beth sighed, impatient, but nodding along anyways, knowing they still needed to be safe, even if she was uncomfortable. Daryl entered the house, crossbow leading, and cleared both floors before coming back out to fetch Beth. No that shelter was so close, Beth moved a lot faster than she had been. Once inside, she immediately when towards the dust covered couch and plopped down, huffing out a breath, now extremely grateful for all the traveling they had done to find a place.
She threw her head back, trying to allow her sore body to relax. Daryl set his crossbow on the floor and made his way over to sit beside her. He put a hand behind her shoulders and pushed her forward, Beth leaned over as far as her bump would allow while Daryl pulled her backpack off of her. She started to lean back as another contraction hit her. Beth fisted her fingers into the couch as Daryl rubbed at her back. She tried to breathe through it but it was much easier said than done. When it had passed, Beth leaned back, heavily panting. "Can this process please speed up so it can just be over and done with?" Daryl felt helpless, having absolutely no clue what he could do to ease her suffering. If someone asked him in this moment what he missed most about the old world, his answer would definitely be modern medicine...lots of doctors, nurses, and drugs.
Beth's labor progressed quickly from that point forward and now they had reached the point where her body was telling her she needed to push. "Quick, help me get me pants off." Daryl did as he was told, yanking them off her legs. She twisted her body, placing her back against the arm rest with her legs on the cushions in front of her. Daryl settled himself between them, and helped hitch her knees up. Not once did he ever think he would be in this situation...in the zombie apocalypse, between his young lover's naked legs, delivering their child. He felt somewhat prepared at least, due to the books they had found and educated themselves with.
On the next contraction, Beth pushed. Daryl spoke words of encouragement, telling her how great she was doing, to keep up the good work. Finally he could see the head crowning, small tuft of blonde hair peeking out, which rendered him speechless. With another few long, straining pushes, Daryl Dixon and Beth Greene welcomed a screaming baby girl into the world. Daryl stereotypically checked for all ten fingers and toes, finding nothing but absolute perfection. He placed the baby on Beth's chest, immediately calming the child, as it's mother softly wept, eyes never leaving her daughter, while Daryl clamped and cut the cord. "She's so beautiful."
Daryl smiled at her, completely agreeing with her assessment. "Yeah" was all he managed to get out. If he spoke any more on the subject, he was sure he would shed a few tears as well, and he thought he had cried one too many times in front of Beth.
"You've gotta clean her off but we don't have any real warm water, so just be sure to wrap her up extra thick." Daryl nodded, remembering that bit from one of the many books they had studied. He took his daughter gently from Beth's chest, and began cleaning her off. "I love you, Daryl." The tone of her voice contained pure bliss.
He was finishing up wrapping the baby like a burrito, having had no real lessons in swaddling, when he looked back over at Beth, about to ask about delivering the placenta, when he noticed her eyes were closed. He stepped towards her, his movements faltering when he noticed no rise and fall to her chest. He held his breath, waiting for any movement at all. When there was none, he immediately set the baby down on a chair, definitely not his smartest parenting move, and quickly made his way to Beth's side.
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross was a psychiatrist, one who proposed that their were fives stages to dealing with the process of death.
Denial is the first part of the grieving process. "No, Beth!" He knelt down at her side, feeling for a pulse on her neck. Feeling none, he grabbed her hands in his. "You can't leave me!" Suddenly remembering their newborn infant, he added something. "You can't leave us!" Beth wasn't going to respond, she was without a doubt dead. Even in the old world, with all of that modern medicine, she likely wouldn't have been saved. Neither her, nor Daryl, had any way of knowing that an embolism stemming from the amniotic fluid would make it's way into her heart, causing instant cardiac arrest. In a last ditch effort, Daryl tried CPR. He knew no proper technique, so even if he had done it sooner, it was unlikely to have worked.
Anger is the second stage. He collapsed his head on her chest, tears falling down his cheeks. "How could you do this to us?" He kept asking over and over again, even though he knew there was no way Beth would have wanted this. There had been a time, even after the farm, after the prison, when she had been suicidal, but with how much they had to live for now, she would not have looked forward to death. This further solidified Daryl's feelings, that if there was a God, he was a sadist.
Bargaining came next. After he finished cursing at the lord, Daryl began to beg. "Please..." he spoke as he looked up at the ceiling "just let me have her back...I promise I can be better. I can be a better man, but only with her by my side." It sickened him that he briefly thought about how God could have taken their daughter, leaving Beth with Daryl. He shook his head, willing those thoughts away, knowing Beth wouldn't want that.
Depression was the fourth stage in terms of grieving. Daryl's depression lasted for days, after having rapidly cycled through the first three steps. He covered Beth up with a sheet, made it look like she was sleeping. He made his way over to their daughter, dread having fallen over him. He picked up the wailing being, and held her close, hoping to calm her down. The infant probably craved it's mother, one she would never really have. He tried to bounce her gently, rubbing circles on her little back, and it took him a few minutes to realize that she needed to be fed. Cradling her in one arm with surprising ease, Daryl grabbed Beth's bag, digging around inside, pushing past her journal of thoughts, hopes, and dreams, and finding a can of formula and bottle that Beth had grabbed on a run, just in case she had said. He prepared a meal for her and sat down in the chair, placing the nipple in her mouth as she started to suckle. He lifted his eyes, drawn to Beth's form, his cheeks began to dampen as he silently cried. It wouldn't be long before she came back, he knew what he had to do.
When the infant was done, he burped her just like he had done before with Judy and placed her back down on the chair cushion, this time setting pillows around her, cacooning her in so she wouldn't fall. Making his way over to Beth, he leaned over her, pulling his knife out of it's sheath on his hip. Taking one last look at her stunning face, he brought the knife down with force, piercing her skull. He pulled back out, dropping the knife and collapsing on the floor. He sat with his back to her body, once again a broken man.
When he finally regained some composure, Daryl completely wrapped her body in a relatively clean sheet, and carried her body to the backyard where he had dug a grave. Placing her inside it, very carefully, he buried her, saying his last goodbyes to his angel.
For the next twelve days, Daryl was a walking shell of a man. He made sure to provide the basics for his child, food and warmth, but he didn't spend any more time than he had to with her. On the thirteenth day, he realized how angry Beth would be with him if she could see him now. With her in his thoughts, he picked up his daughter, cradling her in her arms, and wept. Sobs wracked his body as he once again grieved Beth's loss, vowing, after this moment, to put those feelings away and be a father.
On the road to acceptance, the fifth and final stage of grieving, Daryl would end up calling the little girl Charlotte, a new he had found on a list in Beth's journal. There was a little star next to it, meaning she must have liked it. So that's what he chose, even if it wasn't his favorite.
Six Years Later
"Charlie!" Daryl yelled after his daughter as she ran up ahead of him. No matter how many times he had scolded her, she still seemed to have a problem following his simple rules. He began to panic when she was out of sight, so he picked up his pace, now sprinting after her.
When he finally caught up to her, she was standing still, staring ahead. Daryl raised his eyes and dropped his crossbow to the ground at the sight in front of him. "Daryl?"
"Rick...Glenn..." He was breathless and felt as if he had lost his hearing. He thought that this must be some sick hallucination. There was no way he would be reunited with his people after all of this time.
They walked towards each other, Rick grasping Daryl in a firm short hug as Glenn patted him on the back. Charlie stared on with interest. "Daddy?"
Rick and Glenn looked at each other, hearing the young girl refer to Daryl as her father. Daryl cleared his throat. "Uh...this is Charlie, my daughter." Daryl scooped her up in his arms, balancing her on his hip. "Charlie, these are my friends, Rick and Glenn." The young girl, so much like her mother, put a huge smile on her face and said hello, not in the least bit shy.
Rick spoke first, Glenn clearly at a loss for words. "Who..." he wasn't able to finish his question, not quite sure how to phrase it, but Daryl understood.
"Beth." With time, it had gotten easier to say her name, especially after being forced to tell his little girl the story of Princess Beth, how she stood up to a mean, drunken pauper, teaching him to have hope and faith, after which both would end up falling in love.
They both raised their eyebrows, but could easily see that this was Beth's daughter with her wide blue twinkling eyes and wavy blonde hair. "Is she..." once again, an unfinished question that Daryl understood.
"Gone." The two men nodded in understanding.
"You should come back with us...I know we have some people who've missed you...Maggie would-" Glenn shook his head, deciding on different words "needs to meet Charlie."
Daryl nodded, not a doubt in his mind. Him and Charlie didn't have anywhere to go really. No place was better than with family. He followed them after picking up his bow, carrying Charlie so she didn't run off again. Though the silence was somewhat awkward, Daryl not really sure how to interact with adults anymore, and Glenn not really sure what to say to who was basically his brother in law, it was still comfortable, and familiar, even after all of these years. Rick patted him on the back and gave him a proud look that Daryl understood well. Rick knew what it was like to lose the one you loved, and to be left with a child. They each had great respect for each other.
In a somewhat cruel twist of fate, Daryl and Charlie would no longer be alone. They had found their place among family. Members would be able to tell Charlie brand new stories about Princess Beth, her fantasy hero.
I cried. A lot. I had to stop multiple times while writing this.
Please let me know your thoughts!