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[FIC] Don't Worry (i'm okay now) (1/8)

Winona sighed, her brows furrowing in annoyance as she felt the baby kick again. And again. Absentmindedly she placed a hand on her swollen belly as she tapped away on her PADD, willing the child within her to calm the fuck down and go to sleep already. The kicking and heartburn and nausea had progressively gotten worse in the past few days and she had half a mind to actually follow George’s advice and go to sick bay, if only to get the doctor to give her something (anything!) that would make the baby stop it.

The baby kicked again and just as she threw down the PADD onto the bed and glared down at her stomach, the pain surged out of nowhere and gripped her insides so tightly she instinctively shut her eyes and clutched her stomach as she felt the air whooshing out from her lungs. She chocked on a sob as the pain continued for what seemed like forever until, just as suddenly, it vanished. She slowly opened her eyes to look at the room through blurry vision, her skin drenched in a cold sweat, her lungs swallowing as much air as possible in harsh little pants.

That was one damn painful contraction.

Without thinking, she switched on the communicator near the bed. “Lieutenant Kirk to Sickbay,” she said, her voice shaking as much as her hand was.

“Sickbay here, go ahead Lieutenant.”

“I think I’m having labor pains,” she replied, staring down at her stomach with something akin to fear. “I thought Doctor Vega said the baby wasn’t supposed to be coming until we’d docked back on Earth. Why –”

“Calm down Lieutenant. We’ll send someone to your room to check you out. It might be a false alarm,” the nurse said soothingly, cutting off her panicked ramblings.

“Yeah, okay,” she said, nodding her head. “Right. False labor pains.” She’d never had that happen with George Junior.

She waited on the bed for the chime at the door, debating the entire time whether or not she should let George know what was happening. He’d freak out in his Kirkian way and look at Captain Robau with those big blue eyes of his and everyone on the bridge would laugh at him as he’d be excused and rushed down to medical for… Well, probably nothing.

She hummed softly to herself, her hand rubbing her swollen abdomen. Just as the door chimed and she pressed the button to let the nurse in, another wave of pain surged up and hit her with so much force that she cried out in surprise and continued crying out in pain, unable to stop herself from doubling over as her muscles contracted.

She felt hands on her, soothing her hair back, rubbing her shoulder, and when a hand gripped hers, she gripped back with everything she had and hoped it would be enough to anchor her. And once again, just as suddenly as it had come, it dissipated, leaving her weak and shaky and covered in cold sweat.

“There we go, Lieutenant. Deep breaths.”

She nodded dumbly, her hand still gripping the nurse’s hand tightly. “I don’t…” She swallowed and forced her body to stop shaking. “I don’t think these are false alarms.”

The nurse looked at her seriously and nodded, pulling out the tricoder attached to his belt. “My mother always told me to listen to her because she said mothers knew best. And she was always right,” he said as he pointed the tricoder at her and started scanning her. “I haven’t doubted a mother’s words since I was in high school, and I’m not going to start now.”

Winona nodded gratefully, glad she wasn’t going to have to fight anyone on this. She heard the tricoder’s unhappy chirp and saw the nurse frown at what he was seeing and instinctively clutched the hand on her stomach into a fist.

“Should I let Commander Kirk know the baby’s coming?” she asked, already reaching for the terminal before the nurse even nodded.

“Knowing Commander Kirk, I would be remiss if I told you otherwise.”

Winona felt a small grin tugging at her lips, and just as she toggled communications to George’s station on the bridge, she felt a wet sensation spreading out from her and soaking up her legs. She grimaced and groaned.

“Winona? What’s wrong?” Winona smiled despite herself. George sounded frantic.

“My water just broke.” She winced at the not-so-girly squeal that came over the communicator. “George, calm down. Jesus Christ, you’d think you were the one having the baby,” she grumbled as she accepted Nurse Patterson’s hand and moved from the bed to the wheelchair, smiling gratefully when he draped a blanket across her lap.

“Commander, I’ll be taking your wife to sick bay for monitoring,” the nurse cut in.

“How long until she delivers?” George asked, voice back to normal despite the fact that Winona could hear the nervousness he was trying to hide.

“It’s always difficult to tell, sir, but basing off of Lieutenant Kirk’s previous delivery, I’m going to guess nothing’s going to come about until at least four hours from now, sir.”

“I’ll talk to you later, George,” Winona interjected before her husband could say anything else. “You better be there this time, you hear? You promised,” she reminded him.

“I know, sweetie,” he replied, voice as serious as she’d ever heard him. “I’ll be there.”

Winona could feel the tears streaming down her face as she screamed, pushing with all her might as another contraction gripped her body. Distantly she could hear the nurse that had accompanied them onto the shuttle encouraging her to push, ordering her to do it now, but she couldn’t keep her focus on anything other than the pain and the strange sensation of something trying to break free from her.

And then suddenly the pain seemed to shoot out of her body and she collapsed back onto the gurney, her shaking arms no longer able to support her. She panted softly, blond hair sticking to her forehead, blue eyes staring at the ceiling. The sound of a baby crying snapped her out of it and she scooted up a little, holding her arms out as the nurse came her way, a bundle of blankets cradled carefully in her arms. She stared at in wonder, following the path of the bundle as the nurse transferred it to her arms, and she was suddenly staring at George’s eyes from the crook of her arm.

“So what is it?”

She tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat as the baby settled down. “It’s a boy.”

“It’s a boy? Yeah! Tell me– tell me about him. Please.”

Winona could feel the tears welling up in her eyes and slowly making their way down her cheeks as she looked at her baby boy, counting the ten little fingers of his hand and feeling the ten others in his toes. She couldn’t have stopped the sob that escaped her even if she’d tried.

“He’s beautiful, he’s so beautiful.” She chocked on another sob as she drew a finger down the baby’s cheeks, causing him to stir and open his eyes. “He looks like you. George – you should be here.”

The split second pause was more telling than anything else. “I know…”

Winona could feel a slow rise of panic bubbling up in her throat and she instinctively tightened her grip around her son. “You have to get out of there!” she shouted, wildly looking up and through the shuttle’s little window, which gave her a perfect view of the wrecked ship. “George, listen to me– get off that ship right now!”

She felt her son squirm in her grip and make a displeased noise, even as bright blue eyes looked up at her.

“Winona– I can’t. This is– there’s no other way. I’m sorry– I’m so sorry.” She could picture him in her mind, hands clenched tightly in a fist, blue eyes dark with emotion even as he refused to acknowledge the tears that gathered in them. But she knew better. “Tell me– tell me what he looks like,” he pleaded.

She could hear the desperation in his voice and feel her self control slipping as she realized the end was near. She looked down at her son again, and felt the tears stream down her cheeks as he blinked up at her sleepily. “Blue eyes,” she heard her voice say as she watched George’s eyes opening and closing. “God, they’re your eyes,” she sobbed, tearing her eyes away from the newborn and through the window where she could see the USS Kelvin slowly make its way toward the giant ship that had appeared out of nowhere.

“So what should we call him, huh?”

She blinked, confused. “Name–” That’s right. They’d promised George Junior they wouldn’t find out the baby’s sex beforehand and that he’d get a final say on the baby’s name. “We have to name him. What about– ” she couldn’t think, why couldn’t she think? “After your father, Tiberius?”

“Tiberius? ” She could hear the choked laugh he suppressed at her suggestion. </i> “Are you kidding me? That’s no name for a kid.” </i> She couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped her lips. </i> “We’ll name him after your father. Jim.”</i>

Winona smiled softly at that as she tore her gaze away from the view pane and back to the child in her arms. “Jim,” she said softly, testing out a name she hadn’t said in a long, long time. She liked the sound of it. “Jim it is.”

“Sweetheart? Sweetheart, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” she cried, instinctively looking up and around the small craft. “Yes, I hear you.”

“I love you. I love you. I lov–”

Winona gasped and clutched the baby – Jim – closer to her as George’s voice suddenly cut off and static filled the end of his incomplete sentence.


She watched as the explosion from the Kelvin’s impact flooded the shuttle, momentarily blinding her with its brightness. Like George’s life, fleeting as it had been, it had washed out everything in its path in a brilliant flood of light. As it dimmed, she laid her head back down and watched her newborn son sleep, unaware of his father’s sacrifice, unaware of his mother’s grief, unaware and content to simply be held in a warm cocoon.

She watched him and she cried.

(Part 2/8)

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