[ liv. 59 days without an accident ]
october 13th, 2012
➸➸➸
"GOOD NEWS," DENISE CLOYD exclaimed with excitement as she approached, her glasses pushed higher on her nose as she balanced a thick, medical textbook in the crook of her elbow. "I believe I've nailed the calculations. According to this, you're sixteen weeks along. Or . . . close to that mark. Nearly four months, at least. So, how are you feeling?"
Astrid Dixon slumped on the edge of an infirmary bed, her legs dangling, while Daryl stood beside her, leaning against her side. His right hand moved in large, soothing circles across her lower back, and the other was tucked to his mouth, thumbnail nervously being chewed, while listening as Denise's report unfolded. When it concluded, Astrid only sighed, brushing back a strand of stringy hair from her bloodshot and drooping eyes.
"How am I feeling?" Astrid echoed. "How does it look like I'm feeling, Denise? I feel like shit. This is the first time in three days that I haven't managed to puke my guts out, and I still feel like I've been hit by a bus."
Denise cracked a smile at the flair of dramatics and then turned to Daryl. "And how's the father doing?" She asked.
"Jus' peachy," Daryl scoffed. He rubbed his own bloodshot eyes now, equally exhausted. "Is there any way we can get somethin' in her system without her throwin' it back up an hour later?" He prodded.
"You haven't vomited in three days, correct?" Denise prompted, to which Astrid nodded. "Well, maybe the worst is behind you. Have you eaten anything this morning?"
"No," Astrid protested. "I want to, but I don't want to deal with hugging my toilet the rest of the afternoon, either."
"I want you to try eating whole grains today," Denise instructed. "Or even a couple of bites of fruit. If neither of those catch your appetite, I also read somewhere that sometimes switching meals around can help—like having pizza or a casserole for breakfast."
Astrid cringed as she buried her tired face in her cracked palms. Her shoulders and arms ached, and sleep had eluded her completely last night. The baby was not even that big, yet Astrid felt like the tiny being was already determined to kill her.
"Pizza sounds disgusting," Astrid muttered. Her stomach curdled deeper even recalling Carol's failed attempt at homemade pizzas last week.
Denise pursed her lips. "Maybe . . . Maybe you should stick to fluids for a couple more days, then," She suggested. "That's what Maggie has been doing, but her morning sickness stopped a week or so ago. And it wasn't nearly as bad as yours."
"That's because this kid is picky like its father," Astrid retorted, nudging Daryl in the side.
Her hunter scoffed. "Please," He said. "He gets it from you."
He. Daryl always referred to the baby as a he and was very, very adamant about it. Despite the very massive chance that it could be a girl, Daryl was convinced that this little one was his son. Astrid would be happy either way, but a part of her hoped it was a boy just to satisfy his dreams. After all, they already had a daughter. Still . . . the idea of Daryl being completely overwhelmed by another girl was amusing for Astrid to consider.
Denise could not help but notice Daryl's word choice either and flashed a playful smile. "He?" She questioned. "Seems like we already know what Daryl's hoping for. What about you, Astrid?"
Astrid smiled genuinely. "Either is fine," She insisted. "Whether it's a boy or a girl, I'll love them just the same."
Curiosity sparkled in Denise's eyes as she pressed further, "How is Bailey taking to the idea of a little surrogate sibling?"
Ah, Bailey. The prospect of a new sibling had captured her heart. "She's excited. She and Daryl have a bet going on," Astrid revealed. "She wants a girl, and he's pulling for a boy. If Bailey wins, Daryl promised her a leather vest like his. But if Daryl wins, Bailey is on diaper duty for the first month."
"And I ain't dealin' with that shit," Daryl grimaced. "So it better be a boy."
"If only I had an ultrasound in here," Denise grumbled as she spared a glance over her shoulder, looking around the relatively empty infirmary. "Then I could predict these things, and we wouldn't all be so left in the dark." She huffed a sigh as she redirected her attention once more. "You have experience in medicine, Astrid. Ever had to deliver a baby?"
Astrid's thoughts automatically drifted to Lori. "I was taught how to deliver a baby," She admitted. "But I never had to use those skills. And I sure as hell won't be delivering my own baby if that's what you're hoping for. That's on you, Denise."
Denise laughed, albeit nervously, before quickly changing the subject. They could worry about her delivery another time. "Anyways, if you're wondering," She said, "your little munchkin is about four inches long now, the size of an avocado—just not as bumpy. But speaking of bumps, how big is yours by now? Have you taken a chance to look?"
She motioned to a full-body mirror behind her, and Astrid's gaze followed. Memories immediately flooded back to one of her last nights at the prison, her and Daryl's first and only pregnancy scare. It felt like ages ago. Back then, as she stood before the mirror in her cell, her stomach remained flat. Now, as Astrid jumped to her feet, crossing over to the mirror and lifting Daryl's shirt that she was wearing, the sight was unmistakable. A slight roundness graced Astrid's lower abdomen, and there, clear as day, was her tiny baby bump.
Her fingertips traced her bare skin, and she had to press her lips together to steady herself. Soft footsteps approached from behind, and Astrid glimpsed Daryl as he appeared in the mirror. He was so close she could feel his chest pressed against her back, and she watched his face closely as he intently studied her stomach.
"Look at you," He murmured. His eyes were filled with an unmistakable, unending love.
Astrid smiled at him through the glass. "Only twenty-four more weeks."
"Twenty-four more weeks of pantry run," Daryl snickered, reaching an arm around her waist and placing a warm hand against the swell of her stomach. "But it's worth it, I guess."
Grinning, Astrid turned in his arms, and Daryl leaned down to catch her lips. She eagerly kissed back. But all too quickly, Denise awkwardly cleared her throat from behind, interrupting them. "Hey, Daryl?" She cautiously addressed. Daryl huffed openly against Astrid's lips, and she laughed, pulling away. They turned to face Denise together. "I was wondering if I could give you this," She added. "Just, you know, if you wouldn't mind keeping an eye out for these things while you're out there with Rick today."
Astrid's expression darkened, a subtle shadow casting itself over her features as impending separation from her husband settled on her. Today would mark his first departure beyond the gates since the fall of Alexandria's walls, which had already occurred nearly two months ago.
In the aftermath of the collapse, the Alexandrians had labored to rebuild, transforming the once-vulnerable haven back into a newfound bastion of fortified strength. The structures stood taller, the expansions stretched wider, the gardens flourished, and the people, now imbued with fresh bravery and skill, stood ready to confront any new threat should it come.
Carl and Bailey specifically, emerged with profound new strength. Despite once being innocent children ravaged by this world, they refused to succumb to defeat. Carl defied the loss of his eye, walking just days after his incident. And Bailey, who had become intertwined with Carl's recovery, found her voice, too, as he awakened. Their bond became unbreakable, and Astrid found great peace in knowing they still looked out for one another.
Pulling from her thoughts, Astrid adjusted her shirt, her gaze following Denise as she handed Daryl a crumpled piece of paper. Astrid peered over his shoulder, and her eyes narrowed with interest as she spotted a peculiar entry at the bottom—Orange Crush.
Licking her lips, Astrid mused, "I don't know what that is, but it sounds good."
Denise's expression twisted. "But if you don't know, how could you—"
"Trust me. I'll try to eat it anyway."
Daryl scoffed. "Sounds like Preggers over here found somethin' she can stomach." Despite his casual tone, Astrid noticed his eyes were still fixated on the words Orange Crush. His confusion surfaced when he questioned, "You're talking about the drink, right?"
"I am," Denise confirmed. "Why?"
"Well, it ain't medical," Daryl pointed out.
"I know, but I drew a line between the important stuff and that," Denise clarified. "I just figured, if you saw it . . . Of course, anything remotely medical is a priority. And food. Maybe even food before medicine, and gas or batteries or books for the kids or clothes is just—" She broke off momentarily. "Look, if you see it, if it just happens to be right there . . ."
Astrid could not help but smirk at Denise's awkwardness, her rambling laying bare the complexities of her own priorities. She did not need to glance at her hunter to know his face teasingly mirrored hers. Denise's desire was evident to them both. "You like the drink?" Daryl prodded.
Denise shook her head, "No, I don't drink pop," She admitted.
"What the hell's pop?"
Astrid shot her husband a sudden look. "You don't know what pop is?" She started. "Daryl, it's another word for soda."
Denise nodded. "You see, I'm originally from Ohio," She informed. "That's what we called soda—pop."
Daryl arched a brow. "If you don't even drink it, then why do you want it?"
Denise's cheeks immediately flushed with color as she abruptly averted her gaze. "Tara was talking about it in her sleep, I think," She bashfully confessed. "So, um, either she likes it, or she doesn't. But if she likes it, it'd be a really nice surprise." She sighed again. "I'm not good with that kind of stuff, and she and Heath are going on that two-week run. I just thought it'd be a nice going-away present. But just, uh, don't go out of your way . . ."
Denise began to animatedly gesture with her hands as she spoke, and Daryl, with a playful glint in his eyes, mimicked her movements. Denise's embarrassment deepened, and Astrid finally intervened, wrapping her arms around Daryl's torso, trapping his arms at his sides. She smiled politely at Denise, resting her chin on Daryl's shoulder. "Tara will love it," She reassured. "I'm sure of it."
Denise returned the gentle smile. "Thanks, Astrid."
Daryl, meanwhile, now glanced at the clock on the far wall and sighed. "I've got to get goin'."
"I'll walk with you," Astrid said. She had not tried to stubbornly butt her way onto this trip, understanding that leaving the walls without proper consent or reason was no longer an option for her. Not for 5 more months, at least. Even if she wanted to. Even if she would surely lose her mind. As they approached the front door, Astrid turned to Denise, calling out, "Thanks for the checkup. When should we be back?"
"A couple of weeks," Denise answered. "Maybe somewhere along the way, we'll find an ultrasound and really be able to see what's going on in there."
Astrid snickered at the whimsical notion. "A girl can dream. "See you later."
Daryl's fingers intertwined with Astrid's, and he led her away from the infirmary. The morning held a crisp, fall chill, but for Astrid, it was perfect for a refreshing walk. As they ambled along, Astrid glanced at her husband. "That Orange Crush still sounds really good."
Daryl smirked. "That supposed to be a hint for me?"
Astrid grinned. "Take it however you want. I've never had it before. I'm sure Bailey hasn't either."
"Tragic," He teased. But then he tightened his grip on Astrid's hand. "I'll keep an eye out."
"Don't take too long now," She lightly said. "What will I do while you're away? Who will get my snacks from the pantry?"
Daryl chuckled under his breath. "I'm sure Carl can handle it. Just promise him the title of 'uncle,' and he might be able to overlook the fact that your cravings will change faster than he can fetch them."
"Well, sorry," Astrid drawled, catching the playful jab. "I can't control wanting apple slices one minute and then stale salt-and-vinegar chips the next . . ." Now approaching Alexandria's northern front gate, Astrid noticed, in the distance, Rick settling into a car with a case of CDs tucked under one arm.
Daryl, recognizing the music box for what it was, suddenly stopped in his tracks. Then he groaned. "Shit."
Puzzled, Astrid came to a halt, too. "What's wrong?" She questioned.
"Rick's taste in music," Daryl all but grumbled. "I'd rather drive in silence than hear that awful noise."
Before he could elaborate further, Astrid playfully hushed him and urged him on toward the vehicle. Once they were at its passenger's side, Daryl's fingers hesitated on the door handle, and he instead turned to face her, slipping one hand to her stomach while he pulled her in with the other for a passionate kiss. Astrid responded easily, losing herself within him, her arms winding up and around his shoulders as her fingertips twisted into the hair that sat at the nape of his neck.
The spell was abruptly broken, however, by the blatant sound of a car window rolling down. Astrid reluctantly withdrew and glanced behind her, meeting Rick's amused gaze. With a smirk, he leaned over the leather console and greeted them, "Howdy."
Rolling her eyes, Astrid responded, "Morning, Rick," only to be corrected by Daryl's irreverent, mumbling addition, "Prick."
"I'd like to leave before we lose the light," Rick innocently teased. "If you don't mind."
"Jesus, the light's barely even up!" Daryl retorted. Laughter erupted, shared only between Rick and Astrid, as the hunter now glowered between them.
Still grumbling under his breath, Daryl started for his seat, but before he could climb inside completely, Astrid tugged him back to her by the collar of his leather vest. She planted another kiss upon his lips. As she pulled away again, she said, "Be careful out there."
Daryl softly brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "I'll be back before dark." With that, he entered the vehicle, leaving Astrid to close the door behind him. Now turning to approach the gates, Astrid found Eugene Porter already there. Briefly, she wondered how long he had been standing there, and what he had witnessed. No matter, the man said nothing. Silently, he turned away, opening the gate for Daryl and Rick's departure before returning to Astrid's side with yet another list in hand.
Leaning into the open passenger's window, Daryl recoiled at Eugene's sudden proximity. "I mapped out some of the agricultural supply places in the area—even if they've been cleaned out," The scientist informed. "My bet is that the sorghum would be untouched. Now, that there is a criminally underrated grain that could change the game with our food situation from scary to . . . hunky-dunky."
Astrid tilted her head. "Hunky-dunky?" She mouthed to her hunter from over Eugene's shoulder. He simply shrugged in response.
Meanwhile, Eugene, undeterred by Daryl's open stare, continued, "I'm talking sustainability, drought tolerance, a grain-to-stover ratio that is the envy of all corns." He waited a long moment upon concluding his tangent. Then, as if sensing the lukewarm response, he slapped the hood of the car and advised, "Think about it."
Daryl exchanged a brief glance with Rick, before ultimately deciding to pocket the note. "Thanks."
Before Eugene retreated, he turned to Astrid. "You got the gate?" The Dixon woman nodded in confirmation, watching him walk away before turning her attention back to the departing car.
With a smile, she, too, now tapped the hood. "Drive safely. Bring us back some food."
"We'll try," Rick replied.
Daryl extended his hand through the open window, intertwining his fingers with Astrid's. Their hands squeezed tightly. Then, as the car stirred to life, their fingers reluctantly parted ways, leaving behind lingering smiles on both faces.
As the vehicle finally moved beyond their borders, Astrid hurried to close the gate after them. A necessary precaution, although the town's outskirts were already fortified with a new barricade of cars. It had originally been Glenn's idea and was later reinforced by Abraham's added strategic placement of sharp, wooden spears along the barricade, which proved even more effective in deterring walkers from encroaching on the growing community.
A growing community. Which no longer had enough food to sustain it.
At the thought, Astrid's hollow stomach instinctively rumbled. Leaning forward, she observed through the barred gate as the small car accelerated down the narrow, open road. A sharp right turn followed, declaring a new direction, heading south. And just like that, Daryl and Rick vanished from sight entirely, leaving Astrid Dixon alone behind the formidable walls of the secure, yet starving, Alexandria Safe Zone.
~~~~~~~~~~
enjoy the few moments of peace... before the world ends.