AN: This is the next-to-last chapter for this fic.
I hope you enjoy! If you do, please let me know!
111
After everything that he'd seen, done, and experienced in his life, Daryl might have thought that he was unshakeable. He might have told everyone that nothing bothered him. He could handle anything that needed to be done, and he could do it with absolute nerves of still.
He might have told people that, but it wouldn't have been the truth at all.
Carol had been calm when she'd told him that it was time to tell the Greenes that she would require their service in caring for June and Jack. She'd been calm as she made sure that things in the house were in order, as she wanted them to be, and promised him that they had plenty of time to get to the hospital. She'd been calm as she'd spoken to the neighbor about watching the children just until their caretaker could arrive, and she'd been calm as she'd kissed the children and walked herself to the car.
Carol had been calm while she'd calmed Daryl about what was happening.
Daryl, however, had knocked over a glass of water, somehow managed to break the handle on the suitcase, tripped and fell over his own foot in the hallway, and had struggled to get the keys in the ignition of the car. He'd been just about to suggest to Carol that she drive, so they all live to see the miracle to come, when she'd taken his face in her hands and kissed him—right there, in the car, in the driveway, for the neighbor, God, and anyone else to witness.
The kiss she'd given him had been long, and deep, and if he hadn't known what they were supposed to be going to do, he might have thought she was suggesting something to him that would take them right back inside.
And then, she'd smiled at him.
"Let's go have a baby," she'd said. "Finally…" she breathed out.
Somehow, her love had done what he'd needed it to do—at least for a while. It had steeled him so that he could drive, even though some part of his brain had been terrified that he'd forgotten the skill entirely and that he'd never get them to the hospital. He'd managed to get her inside, and he'd managed to fill out everything necessary for the hospital. He'd followed her to the room, and he'd stayed with her until they'd told him he had to leave—he couldn't go with her to the delivery room because, they insisted, he'd be underfoot and his absence was best for her safety and the safety of the baby. He'd kissed her, and he'd promised her that he'd see her the moment they let him—and she'd do wonderfully.
And, then, he'd sat in the waiting room and smoked a cigarette, walking laps from one side of the room to the other to channel some of the energy that he felt.
"Careful, boy. You gonna wear out the fine floor they got in here."
Daryl stopped short. He hadn't expected to hear the voice that he heard, and he turned, surprised to see his brother there with a box under his arm. Merle smiled at him, as though his expression had conveyed everything he hadn't said.
"Won't do no good, anyway," Merle said. "They come when they come. Some come quick. Some take their time. I never run one out no faster than it was set to come out on its own. Brought a couple cigars to celebrate. Brought your lil' woman some chocolates. Andrea said it's good to get somethin' that says she done good."
Daryl smiled at his brother.
"Didn't expect to see you here," Daryl said.
"First one worries you half to death," Merle said. "Figured—maybe it weren't the kind of thing you wanted to do alone. Al said she'd come, soon as she can get off her shift, but I said I'd come in the meantime."
"It's not my first…" Daryl said.
Merle put down what he'd been carrying and held a hand up in Daryl's direction.
"Don't go gettin' defensive," Merle said. "And don't misunderstand my meanin' just 'cause you're set on go right now. What I mean is that it's your first time here, in this room, waitin' for what you know is happenin' right now in the room that they won't let you in. This part? It can take hours or…later? Sometimes I didn't hardly get the door closed behind me before some little nurse was askin' me if I wanted to come on down and see the baby while they got Andrea ready for us both."
Daryl relaxed a little, recognizing that Merle was genuinely not trying to be argumentative or contrary in any way.
"Thanks for coming, Brother," Daryl offered.
Merle smiled, then, at being thanked for his actions. He lit a cigarette and hummed at Daryl—which Daryl figured was about as much as he intended to give as a response. Merle walked over and looked out the window before he started a conversation about some kind of problem that they were having in their back bathroom and, when he had time, did Daryl think he could come have a look at it with Merle to see if they couldn't happen to sort it out.
Daryl smiled to himself, happy for the distraction while they waited, and turned at least half his attention away from worry and simply toward the wonderful, mundane future that was surely ahead of them all.
111
"Mr. Dixon?"
Daryl smiled at the nurse. He knew her. He'd seen her around the hospital, but she wasn't one that he knew by name. The smile was instinct. Her face looked happy and relaxed. Daryl knew, without a single word from her, that she wasn't here to tell him anything that he didn't want to hear.
"My wife?" He asked.
She smiled in response.
"Is doing well," she said. "She's resting with the baby. She didn't want us to take the baby to the nursery, but if you'd like, we can…"
"No," Daryl said quickly. "No. No. We talked about it before we even got here. There ain't nobody takin' the baby nowhere without permission. You gotta understand—we already talked to her doctor about it. She…had a bad experience. A real bad experience. I won't stand for nobody takin' that baby that she doesn't allow it."
Daryl felt Merle's hand rest on his shoulder. He didn't say anything. He didn't make any sound at all. All he did was simply rest his hand on Daryl's shoulder, and Daryl understood. He relaxed his muscles purposefully.
There was nobody here that wanted to take their baby from them. This wasn't the same kind of situation as when Carol had delivered Sophia into the world.
Permission had been given, when Sophia was born, for the baby to be taken as soon as she was born, never to be returned. Carol might have regretted it—and it might have ruined too many of her years—but there had been permission given for that to happen.
Nobody was going to take their baby from Carol or Daryl.
'No, sir," the nurse said, mirroring Daryl and relaxing where she'd visibly tensed in response to his growing concern.
"Can I see Carol?" Daryl asked.
The nurse nodded. Her smile returned, a little more strained than before.
"Of course," she said. "This way—I'll take you to her room."
Daryl glanced at Merle.
"I'ma—wander around the halls. See about a cup of coffee. Give you some time," Merle said. He passed Daryl the box of chocolates. "Give her this. Tell her—we all thing she done good. Congratulations and all that."
"Thank you for comin', Brother," Daryl said, repeating his earlier thanks.
Merle laughed.
"I'll be here next time, too," Merle offered. "If there is one, I mean, and you want me here."
Daryl nodded.
"Before you go," Merle said quickly, drawing the attention of both Daryl and the nurse. "You—uh—wanna tell me what it is? So I can let everyone know when they ask if everything's OK?"
The nurse looked at Daryl. He felt his pulse kick up. Until now, the baby was just an entity—like any child they'd talked about bringing home before, it didn't matter if it was a boy or a girl. The moment they found out, though, was the moment that Daryl always found himself starting to imagine the child's life.
Daryl nodded at the nurse to give her permission to share the news with him and with Merle. She smiled.
"It's a baby boy," she said.
Daryl looked at Merle, and Merle raised his eyebrows.
"How the hell could it be anything else?" Merle teased. "Still—I was kinda figurin' that there might be a first time for everything. Gonna have to be next time, I guess."
Daryl laughed.
"Gonna have to be next time," he agreed. With one last nod to his brother, he left him to wander the halls—or do whatever he was actually going to do—and followed the nurse to the room where he could check on Carol, for himself, and meet his newest son.
111
Daryl couldn't have explained the way that he felt when Carol passed him the baby boy.
He was already a father. Nothing and nobody would ever convince him otherwise. He was Sophia's father. He was June's father. He was Jack's father.
Taking the baby boy into his arms didn't make him feel like a new father—not like a part of him thought it might. It only made him feel like a father meeting his new baby for the first time, as was the case.
The most remarkable thing about the moment, for Daryl, wasn't truly meeting his son—though that was quite a miracle in itself—but rather it was seeing a change that had come over Carol.
Carol was Sophia's mother. She was June's mother. She was Jack's mother. Daryl had known she was a mother every day of their lives together—even when she'd been a mother without a child to love and cherish. He watched her being the best mother that she could be and, arguably, being one of the best mothers that he knew. Carol was a wonderful, loving, doting mother. She would give her children anything they needed—down to her very last breath—without even a moment's hesitation.
What Daryl saw on Carol's face, though, as she beamed and passed over the baby boy that she refused to allow anyone else to touch—going so far as to demand that the nurse bring her a pan of water so that she could help wash her own son clean after his birth—was the relaxed relief of finally believing, herself, that she'd done everything right enough that everyone else would finally believe she was a real mother.
It made Daryl's throat and chest ache.
He was happy. He was as happy as he'd been since the moment that he'd first given himself permission to love Carol, because the truth of it all was that he'd been happy since that moment and, despite some ups and downs along the way, he'd never really stopped being happy. Of course, there had been some extremely wonderful moments, like welcoming each of their children into their family, but Daryl's happiness had simply been there, all along, always intertwined with his love of Carol.
And he ached to know that she had ever doubted herself, in any way. He ached to know that others had made her doubt herself.
He ached to know that there were people, in the world, who couldn't simply see her as he saw her—as she deserved to be seen.
Daryl cradled the baby against his chest and leaned to press a kiss on Carol's forehead. She smiled at him.
"Isn't he perfect?" Carol asked.
"He is," Daryl said. "Didn't doubt he was gonna be—not for a minute. You done good."
"We have to name him," Carol said.
"We do," Daryl agreed.
"You're sure you don't want Daryl? A junior?" Carol asked.
Daryl had shot down that possibility a few times over. He shook his head.
"If I was gonna name one that, I'da named Jack that," Daryl said.
"They named him Jack for us," Carol said.
"Was our choice to keep it or not," Daryl said. "To tell you the truth…"
"Yes?" Carol asked, when Daryl paused a moment.
"I've been a fan of Silas—since it got brought up that time. Figure—it'd go real good, you know? S for Silas like S for Sophia, and then J for Jack and June," Daryl said. "It's even, then, you know?"
Carol smiled.
"I like that," she agreed. "But—what if there's another? Then, it won't be even."
Daryl laughed and handed her back the baby boy, sensing that she wouldn't want to be without him for long.
"If we're blessed with another, we'll be too damn happy to care that it ain't even," Daryl said. "Now—let's talk about goin' home, because the nurse said that they've got no plans for keeping you, especially since you're refusing care for the both of you because you won't hardly let nobody near the baby."
Carol laughed quietly and nuzzled their newborn son.
"Do you think I'm crazy for that?" She asked.
"I've never thought you were crazy," Daryl said. "And I'm not about to start now. She said he's healthy enough, and so are you. You won't be the first woman who did her recovering at home." He winked at her. "You'll take care of Silas, and me and the kids'll take care of the rest."