A/N: If you follow my IG you already know this, but ya girl was in Seattle last weekend at the right place and the right time. I'll never complain about the tourist trap the Market is ever again.
Dave tip-toed the few feet down the hallway between hospital rooms and ducked into the one with the large orange sign announcing to whoever entered that Liz was a 'Fall Risk'.
"Seven pounds two ounces for David and six pounds ten ounces for Alex," he announced when Liz looked up from her phone.
"Bullshit," she smiled, "Alex was at least twenty pounds."
He chuckled at that and dropped into the chair beside her bed, leaning over to untangle her arm from some tubing. From the moment he was allowed to see her after the boys were born and she was closed up, he was on a giddy high. With their part of the commitment over, they could move on with their lives and Dave had so many things planned. He wanted to concentrate on them, wanted to go back to the start and build up the foundation that they had skipped over in their haste to marry, and he wanted to start with the honeymoon they never took. But first, she had to heal.
"How are you feeling?"
She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing really came out. Just an unsure squeak accompanied by a shrug.
"I can't do much with that, babe," he said gently.
"I know, I'm sorry," she huffed. "I don't really know how I'm feeling. It's like half of me is so happy it's over and the other half of me is frantically looking for the baby that... I-"
The tears came so swiftly and so abundantly that they caught Dave off guard. "Whoa," he darted up and over to her, enveloping her in his arms as best he could without moving her around too much. The image of her skin pulled apart with clamps and clips was still so fresh in his mind and knowing that they only used glue to put her back together made him just a bit nauseous.
"I'm sorry!" she cried, shaking her hands out in frustration and surprise at her own outburst. "I'm so sorry..."
"No... baby, no," he stopped her before she could start to spiral, crouching so he was eye to eye with her, "There's nothing to be sorry for. Do you want to try feeding them? Maybe that would-"
Her stare went from pained to scared, stopping him immediately. "No," she sniffled. "I'm not ready."
"Okay, do you want me to go steal another baby? Cause-"
"David!" she gasped, but allowed him a smile when she realized he was messing with her, "Oh my god!"
"I'll give it back once you're done, I swear. It's like two in the morning anyway, they won't even know it's gone. I bet they'll even appreciate the break."
"Shut up," she laughed and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Once this spinal wears off I'm gonna need you to not be funny for like a month, okay?"
"No promises," he grinned and stood again, pleased he could help her out of her first breakdown, though he was sure there were many more to come. "You need to try and sleep, though."
"I have to pump in like an hour," she protested, looking over at the massive hospital grade breast pump on the table beside her.
He sighed in mock annoyance and squinted down at his phone screen. "Setting the dairy cow alarm for 4 AM. You want it to 'moo' when it's time or just beep at you?"
He hadn't even looked up at her before a pillow flew across the room and collided with his face. "Smart ass," she laughed through a yawn, "How about 'For All the Cows' or 'Milk It'?"
"Oh, now who's the smart ass?" he shot back, grinning at her through his veil of dark hair.
"Come sit with me."
Her anesthesia was supposed to have worn off over an hour ago, but she still had no use of her legs. He was trying not to be visibly nervous about it, but he was still on edge after the shock the cesarean was. With some pulling on the sheets beneath her, he managed to make enough room for him to fit beside her and though it was hellishly uncomfortable to lay propped on his side, he was determined that Liz got whatever she needed.
Once the lights were off and she was comfortably snuggled into his side, he reached across for her hand, careful not to bump into her middle. "I'm really, really proud of you."
"Yes, David," she huffed, "You've told me that sixteen times in the past hour."
"I am, though."
He felt her smile against his shoulder and briefly press her lips into the fabric of his shirt. "Hopefully we won't have to have another c-section."
"You say that like I'm up on that butcher block with you, Elizabeth."
"You kinda were. Saw more than me, at least."
He shuddered a little at the memory of blue-gloved hands hovering above the red cavity that was his wife, "Remind me to keep my ass in the chair next time." But then he paused to think it over for a moment, "But maybe... I think I'd like to see her like, come out, though. ... Maybe."
She laughed softly at that and lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him, "You're really hell-bent on a girl, aren't you?"
"Kinda. After three I feel like I'm just hitting my stride."
"I'll see what I can do," she said through a strong yawn.
"Go to sleep."
Settling back down into him, she grabbed an extra pillow from the table beside the bed and pressed it against her middle, protecting her incision so she could still hold his hand. They sat quietly, fingers woven together as the dull hum of the hospital drifted in through the cracked door and he thought she had finally fallen asleep until she whispered, "Love you"
He hummed, almost sound asleep himself, "Love you, too."
*
He loved the parties he and Kurt used to throw in their apartment in Olympia. They were full of booze and loud music, there were so many people he hadn't met yet, and they were young. He was practically submerged in the couch next to the stereo, a red keg cup in one hand and a joint in the other. Fuzzy, dizzy, floating... content.
Liz was there, looking every bit the college co-ed. He'd never seen her like this, just on the verge of her twenties. He lazily checked his arms to gauge how old he himself was and figured he was about twenty-two or twenty-three, judging by the freshness of his wrist tattoo.
She was standing in a corner across the room, laughing over something Kurt had said and he was watching her with that look, that excited, surprised look he always got when someone connected with his unusual brand of humor. His blue eyes were sparkling as he spoke, trying to hold back his smile so he wouldn't kill the joke and his gaze drifted to the faces around them, spotting Dave and offering a short upward nod just as he delivered the punchline. Liz's laughter mixed with his, her melodic giggle together with Kurt's deep guffaw making whatever had been said even funnier. They were leaning into each other, both of them adding on to keep the laughter going until they were both wiping away tears.
Kurt glanced back at Dave over the top of her head and smiled warmly. "She's funny!" he mouthed over the music.
Dave grinned and tried to pull himself off the couch so he could join them, but everything felt so heavy. He struggled against himself, finally managing to make it to his feet when the sounds of the blaring punk record and the people around them faded away allowing him to hear Kurt and Liz speaking clearly.
"I'm tired," she sighed, setting down her red cup on the top of a speaker.
"Yeah," Kurt nodded in understanding and nudged her with his elbow. "Hey, I know a place you can rest if you'd like."
She seemed to consider this a moment, then looked around the party. "Is it safe?"
Dave frowned at that. Something didn't feel right, something felt off. He started to walk over to them, but he couldn't gain any distance. They were way over there and it was taking a hell of a long time to just cross the room like he was just treading dirty carpet.
"It's safe," Kurt assured her. "Dave and I are good friends so I'll stay with you until he gets tired, too."
"He can't come with me?"
Kurt's stare shifted to him once again, this time examining him, studying him. "No, he won't be tired for a while yet."
"I should say goodbye," she yawned and covered her mouth. Her garnet wedding ring glinted sharply even in the low light, amplifying the peculiar mix of Dave's past and present as it intersected in that little apartment on Pear Street.
But Kurt laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, "It's probably best if you don't. From what I've seen, the goodbyes are way harder than the hellos... for them, anyway."
She nodded at that and let him take her hand to lead her to the front door. Dave tried to say something, tried to reach out to stop them, but he was stuck. He struggled against himself, begging his limbs to move when he heard Kurt's sigh just beside him.
"Sorry, man. It's not up to me, you know? But she'll be okay," he murmured with that apologetic smile. "I'll stay with her 'till you show up."
*
"Fuck!"
He jerked awake and flailed a bit, disoriented from his dream and his strange surroundings. Liz stirred beside him and he tried to give her some room when he noticed her legs had regained movement, but he found he was literally stuck to her. He reached down to pry himself away only to pull his hand back at the feeling of warm, sticky, redness.
"Shit," he hissed and scrambled off the bed, tangled up in wires and sheets and her. Blood was everywhere. Too much blood, too red and fresh.
"What happened?" she croaked, staring up at him with wide green eyes.
"I don't know, just-" he spotted the bed's remote laying on the floor smeared in her blood and dove for it, smashing his thumb into the nurse call button as hard as he could. "Don't move okay?"
"Dave," she gasped as she started to wake fully, her eyes wide as she saw his shorts soaked in blood, "Baby, you're hurt... what happened?"
He opened his mouth to tell her none of the blood was his, but the thought of her panicking made him snap his jaw shut again.
"Everything okay in here?" a nurse softly knocked on their door and poked her head in.
"No!" he called over his shoulder, "We need some help!"
"Okay," she said calmly walking over to the sink to wash her hands, "What's the problem?"
Dave found the light button on the remote and pressed it, the fluorescent strip behind the bed illuminating their little space and the gore they were surrounded by.
"Oh," the nurse's shocked face went determined as she whispered, then gently but firmly took her arm.
"No, please," Liz said weakly, trying to push her away. "It's my husband. He got cut or-"
"Just relax," the nurse muttered, deftly wrapping a blood pressure cuff in place while pressing a bright red button set into the wall. Somewhere in the distance chimes rang out.
"Sir?" her attention turned to him, "Can you please move to the other side of the bed? And then step away when the others arrive?"
He did as he was told, skidding around the side of the bed before crouching to move her hair off Liz's face.
"Is it my blood?" she asked, disoriented and confused.
"It's okay," he tried to be reassuring, but the look on the nurse's face when the blood pressure cuff deflated told him otherwise. "They're gonna take care of it."
"But I'm tired," she whispered just as another nurse jogged into the room and consulted with the first.
Hemorrhage, hypotension, rupture...
Swallowing all the fear rising in his throat he tried to keep his focus on her face, "No baby, you can't be tired. Just stay awake a little bit longer, okay? Just until they're-"
"He said it was safe," she murmured, her eyelids heavy.
The pangs of fear were now one continuous wave washing over him as several more people ran in, this time with a bright red cart filled with vials and gadgets and words along the side in urgent black marker, Crash Cart.
"It's safe, Dave," she grabbed for him, though it seemed to take a lot of effort, "He promised."
He didn't know what was happening. The logical, rational side of him was rolling its eyes and telling him she was reacting to her low blood pressure, but the cerebral, scared side of him just wanted her to be okay no matter what it took and if that meant begging a ghost from his past to keep her with him, so be it. "You can't go with him, okay? Please, baby. Just... just stay with him in the apartment as long as you can. Ask him about the turtles, have him play you his Melvins records, but please don't leave with him."
Her nose crinkled a little, "How do you know about the turtles?"
"Step back please, sir."
His time was up. The mask slipped over her face began to fog as she fought against whatever was coursing through her bloodstream. "Dave?" she reached out for him and was able to catch his arm just before someone stepped in their way.
"I'm right-," he stopped when the doctor ran in, snapping gloves around his wrists.
"Dave? Can you wait in the hallway for a minute, buddy?" he asked kindly like they were old friends, but it wasn't a request. It was a thinly veiled urgent command that took Dave a moment to really absorb. Apparently too long to absorb since the directions were now on someone else. "Put him in the room next door. His friend Taylor is in there."
He found himself shuffled out to the hallway where Taylor was already waiting, no doubt having heard all the commotion and left Allison to deal with their newborn twins. The sight of Dave's right leg drenched in blood made Taylor wobble a bit, but he threw his arms around him all the same and dragged him down into a chair that hadn't been there before.
"You two just can't catch a fucking break."
Staring into his friend's face, he could suddenly smell the blood he was drenched in and felt so nauseous he was sure he was about to puke everywhere.
"I'm gonna fucking pass out, T," he gasped. "Gonna hurl."
From the two chairs that had been hastily thrown against the hallway wall, Dave could hear the efforts from the room he'd just been pulled from.
We're going to give you something for the pain, Elizabeth, but we need you to lie back.
A sharp yelp and anguished cry was the only response and Dave inadvertently whimpered, echoing her pain.
"No, you're not gonna puke," Taylor clamped his hand around the back of Dave's neck and shoved his head forward between his knees all the same, "Deep breaths, dude."
An empty garbage can appeared out of nowhere, probably a gift from the nurse's station, replaced just moments later by an actual hospital-issued basin.
"You're going to feel some pressure, Elizabeth."
"Please stop... please, it hurts..."
"She's okay, Disco," Taylor continued to mutter, "They're helping her and she's... she's tough."
He wanted to bite back that it sure as hell didn't sound like it. It sounded like she was being drawn and quartered in there while they sat outside twiddling their thumbs. But then the door opened and her doctor appeared.
His back was to them as he addressed a determined looking nurse, "Get a room open, we'll see if we can save it." Then he turned on his heel and almost tripped over Dave and Taylor staring helplessly up at him from their chairs.
The three were silent as they watched each other, the man on his feet grasping for the right words while the two seated men waited, desperate for any information at all.
And then Dave's phone began to sing. A few bars of a riff that was now part of his DNA followed up with his words, "I'm called a cow... I'm not about... to blow it now..."
The doctor now broken from his frozen tongue, hooked his hand around Dave's arm to haul him to his feet. "Walk with me, Rock Star."