Fear
Chapter Title: Fear
Title: Here Comes Baby (10/?)
Author name: allkindsoffics
Main Pairings: Morgan/Reid/Prentiss
Characters: Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Emily Prentiss
Rating: pg/ pg-13 (overall nc-17)
Word count: 2152
Warnings/Spoilers: threesome relationship
Part of To Pick Up
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Summary: Emily wakes up in the hospital room.
Author’s Note: I love feedback, thanks!
Previous Part
Emily comes to and the first thing she realizes is she doesn’t feel the baby kicking or shifting; in fact, she doesn’t feel the baby at all. The pressure on her bladder and lungs is gone, the back pain is gone, and the only thing she can feel is a burning pain in her lower abdomen. She scrambles to feel for her stomach and the IVs in her hands burn as they pull from her movements. Her stomach is decidedly deflated and void. It’s then that she finally notices the heavy hand on her thigh. Derek’s arm is curled around his head, his forehead resting on his arm, and his other hand resting gently on her thigh. His face has relaxed somewhat in his sleep, but she can still see the worry lines marring his features.
“Derek,” she says urgently, but her voice is unused and it comes out as a distorted squawk. His head rockets off his arm and he looks so relieved; she reaches out a hand to comfort him and pulls on her IVs again. She winces, he realizes the strain she’s putting on herself and the machines, and he reaches out to fold her hand into his. His eyes are glassy and she hopes that it’s out of relief that she’s conscious and not because their daughter is gone.
She’s almost too afraid to ask, but she finally builds her courage with a gentle squeeze to his hand and asks, “Derek, where’s our daughter?”
He kisses her hand and she steels herself; she feels bile rise in her throat, but there’s nothing in her stomach to vomit up.
“She’s in the neonatal intensive care unit,” he responds softly, “Spencer’s there now.”
It’s not the anguish she was expecting, but it’s not relief either; it’s both good and bad news. Their daughter is alive, but she’s still in peril.
“Em, she’s so tiny, not even five pounds. They had to do any emergency C-section; both of you were in danger: you’re blood pressure had gone through the roof and her heart-rate had dropped dramatically. They said she didn’t cry right away; she has some respiratory problems. It also looks like she’s a shade too yellow; she might have jaundice. Spencer’s there for the test right now. But god, Em, she’s so beautiful. She has this whirligig hair already and she has your mouth and she has a cute little birthmark on her shoulder that Spencer says looks like a really tiny Nevada,” he takes a deep breath and Emily knows he has more to say, but he’s trying to stave off his tears. Or maybe he’s questioning whatever he’s going to say to her, but he shakes his head and says, “But god, Em, as much as I already love her, what you made Spencer promise you was wrong. I was so angry at you; do you know how close we were to losing you? Do you? And do you know what it did to Spencer to tell the doctors that if worse came to worse they should save her and not you? I’ve never seen him look so wrecked before and it’s been two days of panicking; you’ve been out of it for two days. Two days where we thought our world was going to end. What made you think we were going to be able to do this without you?”
“I’m sorry, Derek, but I’m here.”
“Good; god, baby, I’m so glad you’re all right,” he says and kisses her hand. Something dawns on him and he scrambles for the bedside phone.
“Yes, can you tell Dr. Reid she’s awake?” He waits for the response, “Thank you.”
“When can I see her?”
“When the doctor says it’s okay.”
“Derek Morgan, you’re absolutely unhelpful.”
He gives her a rueful smile, “I could say the same about you, Emily Prentiss.”
~~~~~~
It’s a whole twenty-four hours before they let Emily take the trip to the NICU. They bring out a wheelchair and when she moves to protest, Spencer sends her a withering look. She sits gingerly in the chair and lets Derek push her to the elevator. The NICU is only one floor down, near the pediatric wing. They have to be buzzed in and put on gowns. Emily’s so excited and nervous to see her little girl.
The NICU nurse introduces herself as Sandra, but seems familiar with both Spencer and Derek; she directs them to one of the isolettes. It dwarves the little figure inside. Derek pushes her as close to the isolette as possible. The little girl is attached to a bunch of machines that are monitoring her vitals, providing her oxygen, and a little bit of medication through her IV. Her skin is a hue only slightly lighter than Derek’s and her hair identical to Derek’s newborn pictures; she’s so obviously his daughter. For a minute, she wonders how Spencer feels, but one look at his face tells her she’s his daughter.
“Can I hold her?” Emily asks Sandra.
“Absolutely,” Sandra says, smiling, “Would you like to kangaroo-hold her? We find it to be the most useful for both parents and children.”
“Whatever you think is best,” Emily says, and Sandra helps her adjust her gown and the clothes Derek brought her from home to slide the baby onto Emily’s bare skin. Sandra places her on Emily’s chest and she wriggles and whimpers a little.
“She might be hungry; if you want to try breastfeeding, you can or I could get you a bottle.”
“I’d like to try breastfeeding,” Emily says; Sandra gives her a few tips, tells her she can feel free to ask any questions, and then excuses herself to give the family more privacy.
Emily holds her daughter to her chest and she roots reflexively, latching onto the nipple.
“That’s a good sign,” Spencer comments softly as he leans over Emily’s shoulder, “Sometimes it’s difficult for NICU babies to breastfeed.”
“They say she’s getting much better; hopefully, she’ll be able to go home in the next few days,” Derek says optimistically.
Emily smiles holds up her little hand and kisses it. She examines her little fingers and kisses each one.
“What about her jaundice?” Emily questions; she holds up the little hand and looks for the yellow tint.
“It’s getting much better; her bilirubin levels have gone down, because they’ve been giving her phototherapy. The condition they’re most worried about is her apnea; that’s why she has the nose piece,” Spencer informs.
“It’s like she just forgets to breathe,” Derek comments.
“But that is also getting better, previously, she was on a ventilator that was breathing for her, and now, today actually, she’s been moved to C.P.A.P, or continuous positive airway pressure. It keeps her airway from collapsing, but doesn’t breathe for her,” Spencer says clinically but then smiles ruefully, “She’s a fighter, but that’s to be expected.”
“We have to stop referring to her just by pronouns,” Derek jokes.
“But we never did come up with a name,” Spencer responds teasingly.
“I was thinking Charlotte or Diana; for our dads or your mom,” Emily suggests.
“My mom would think it was some dastardly plot if we named the little one after her,” Spencer laughs cynically.
“What about Charlotte Diana?” Derek suggests.
“I like it,” Emily says.
“Yes, the middle name would, actually, be much better,” Spencer agrees, “She has a name; it’s almost too real now.”
“Hey, we have to think of our names, too,” Derek says.
“Derek, she’s only days old,” Emily laughs.
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t want her calling us Derek, Spencer, and Emily.”
“I don’t want to be Dad,” Spencer says quickly, “My father was dad and he’s not a good role model; I want to be something else.”
“You could be papa and I’ll be dad,” Derek suggests.
“I’ll be momma; I love that you call your mother that,” Emily adds.
“So she’ll grow up calling us dad, papa, and momma,” Derek says, “Or whatever she wants.”
Charlotte unlatches as Sandra comes back over; she suggests Derek or Spencer burps Charlotte. Derek takes off his t-shirt and places her gently to his shoulder. Spencer drapes a blanket over them, kissing them both tenderly.
~~~~~~
Emily goes home the next day, but it’s another week before they let Charlotte leave. She’s sent home with equipment that weighs five times how much she does; it’s just an alarm, just in case. Emily’s not sure how they’ll sleep. They hook up the monitor and place her in her bassinet. Emily doesn’t think sleeping will be easy, it hasn’t been the last few days, but having her whole family in the same room must calm her and she passes out. She wakes up to little baby sniffles and feels Derek stir next to her being pulled out of sleep by the same noise. She looks at the opposite wall where the bassinet is placed next to their recliners. Spencer’s there, though, and lifts Charlotte out of her bassinet. He’s making soothing noises and rocking her back and forth. Emily crawls out of bed, in case, she’s needed.
“How long have you been up?”
“Didn’t fall asleep.”
“Spence,” Emily reprimands.
“I’ll be all right; I just had to know she would be, too.”
“Go curl up with Derek; I’ve got this.”
He smiles, hands Charlotte off, and crawls into bed next to Derek who kisses Spencer lightly on his head. Emily changes Charlotte’s diaper and sits down to feed her. She’s rocking in the chair and she feels herself dozing a little. She moves Charlotte to the other breast and hums to keep herself conscious. She burps her before laying her daughter back into the bassinet.
When she climbs back into bed, she feels Spencer’s side shift as he gets ready to get up.
“Spencer Reid, you climb that little bony butt back in here and sleep. Charlotte and I both need you awake tomorrow,” Emily chastises. There’s a tiny rumble from the lump between them when Spencer settles back down.
“She’ll be all right, Pretty Boy,” Derek whispers, “We’ve gotta believe that.”
“I’ll try.”
~~~~~~
A few weeks later, Spencer is holding Charlotte kangaroo-style inside his shirt; he’d buttoned it around her rump and back. The skin-to-skin contact always seems to calm the infant and she’s been fussy all day. Emily can’t believe how awed she still is every time she sees Derek or Spencer with their little girl. She looks so fragile but always protected in her Daddy or Papa’s arms.
Spencer was dozing; a book on his abdomen, his legs pulled up, and his head perched on a pillow on the arm of the couch.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
“Definitely,” she agrees with Derek as he kisses her neck.
“How was training?”
“The usual: an intense workout that probably earned me a few bruises from some overzealous rooks.”
“It’s what you deserve for antagonizing them.”
“I only antagonize them to save them in the field,” he says, and then with a laugh adds, “And maybe because it’s amusing.”
“And you deserve every bruise you get.”
“Hurtful, woman, that’s hurtful.”
She punches him playfully and he scrunches his face in mock pain.
“But honestly, I do it because they need to know how to hand-to-hand fight in the field and antagonizing the most realistic reaction.”
“I think I’m done with that.”
“What’s that exactly, sweetheart?”
“Field fighting, being in the field.”
“You’re going to take a desk job; say it ain’t so Prentiss.”
“No, I think I’m going to quit The Bureau entirely; maybe do a Rossi and write. The writing I did while I was on bed rest made me realize that I don’t actually mind it all that much. And it would be good to be able to stay home with Lottie.”
“Please tell me you aren’t giving our little girl horrible nicknames already; we’re supposed to protect her from those not dish them out.”
“I like it,” she says, poking him in the chest.
“Hopefully, that’s just a phase,” Derek jokes, “But seriously, I want you to know that I’ll support whatever decision you make about work. I’ll always have your back, Prentiss, whether we’re in or out of the field.”
“I’m just kind of scared I won’t know what to do with myself.”
“Think it through, and whatever you decide will be the right decision and if it’s not you can always change your mind.”
“But I’m dealing with an innocent person’s life now.”
“And as long as you love her and are the authoritative parent I know you can be, it won’t matter because you love her and you’ll give her your best. That’s all that will matter; is that we love her and try.”
“Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”-Elizabeth Stone