the newest member of the crew.

[bigdamnherosir]

A cranky Zoe was not much fun to be around, Wash had decided. A cranky Zoe who was now very overdue, feeling all kinds of annoyed that Wash’s baby had not made an appearance yet.

‘Yes, dear,’ was becoming a commonly used phrase as Wash sought to pacify her as best he could. Right now he was catching up on sleep - Zoe was most likely going to be induced in the next day or so, which wasn’t good for Wash’s nerves. The usually jumpy pilot was more so than normal, so sleep was good.

Only Wash's daughter would be this stubborn. And that's how she's been referring to their baby - Wash's daughter. She doesn't like the idea of being induced any more than Wash, but damn if Zoe's going to be pregnant a day after the 11th.



In the middle of the night, she's staring at her sleeping husband, annoyed that he can sleep because she most definitely cannot. But at some point around three, she has to get up to use the bathroom. Shuffling wearily, she's suddenly very awake and loses her breath as a contraction - the real gorram thing - makes her hold onto the wall, and she just stands there, trying to think. Simon was right - she can definitely tell the difference between false and real because there's no coherent thought process other than it hurts. She waits, does her business, and stands, counting in her head. It's a good ten minutes before she has another contraction and she holds onto the bathroom counter before making her way back to the bed.

She really doesn't want to wake him, not when there's still ten minutes in between things. But she knows he'd want her to wake him so she does, reaching over to put a hand on his shoulder. "Wash."

It took a minute for Wash to realize that he was being woken up, and he shot bolt upright in bed - his normal response when he was needed on the bridge in a hurry. “Lao Diu Ya?”* he said randomly, having been dreaming, blinking as he took in where he was, his hair sticking up all over the place. “What? Huh?” He looked at Zoe, confused. “Bao bei?”

She blinks a little, looking at him. “What?” But before she can say anything else, a contraction makes her forget what she was going to say. She leans over a little, hand landing on the night stand. It lasts for a little over a minute, and then she looks over at Wash. “Think I’m in actual labor, here honey.” And it’s about gorram time, honestly.

“What do you mean, what?” Wash asked, confused. But the sight of Zoe most definitely going through what appeared to be a contraction made him forget everything else as he now has something else to worry about, and he kneels on the bed, looking at her in earnest. “Fine. Good. Great.” Though inside he was panicking. “Uh... Simon. We gotta get Simon.”

Zoe lets out a breath and looks over at him. “Not yet. Ain’t enough time between contractions yet. Still about ten minutes in between.” She actually lies back on the bed again, closing her eyes. “Can take a while, lao gong. ‘Specially the first time.”

Wash just looked at her for a minute. “Oh,” he said, before collapsing back on the bed, closing his eyes and pretending to fall asleep again, which lasts a whole 20 seconds before he opens his eye and peers at her. “So in the meantime...?”

Zoe looks over at him. “You better not think about sleepin’ again,” she says, not gruffly, just matter of factly. If she was going to go through hours of labor, the least he could do was be awake. Not that she really thought he could sleep. Not now.

“So. In the meantime...the overnight bag is packed? Outfit for the baby, everythin’ in the nursery is done?”

She knew him too well, as always. He looked at her, then grinned. “Really? You think I could go back to sleep?” he asked her. “Everythin’ is packed. We checked it before bed, like we have every night this week.” This long week, waiting for things to actually happen.

She knows all of this, but now that things are about to happen, she just needs to be sure. Another ten minutes goes by though, and she reaches for his hand so that he can feel what’s happening at least in some way. Her stomach tightens, going hard, and she wets her lips. This pain she can cope with - but she knows it’ll get worse.

Wash is sure that Zoe didn’t mean to grip his hand so tightly as she pulled it over so he can feel what is happening, but the way her stomach tightens has him wincing in sympathy. “An’ how far apart are we callin’ Simon at?”

“Five minutes apart. Then we gotta walk to the clinic. But that can take hours.” She has no idea what to do in between though, and her mind starts racing, thinking of everything, random things, and then she bursts into laughter, covering her face with her hands for a second. “This is the last time we’re gonna be in here alone.”

He looked at her for a second, then burst out laughing as well. “Of all the things to think of...” he said, shaking his head at her. “Just as well we’ve got the crib ready.”

“She’s gonna sleep in here with us, in the bassinet, until I’m done breast feeding her,” Zoe says, looking over at him. Then she realizes...maybe her husband doesn’t know what’s going to happen for the next couple of months.

“For a few months, these ain’t yours,” she says, gesturing to her chest.

Wash looked at her, rolling his eyes slightly. “I figured that much,” he said, though his eyes roamed over them appreciatively. Being pregnant had definitely done things to Zoe’s figure.

Zoe wets her lips, head tilting to the side as she looks at him.
“You know...we can’t have sex for at least a month and a half, right? I...tell me you knew that. Somehow. That you picked that up somewhere.”

“I...” Wash looked at her, closing his eyes for a moment. That was information he hadn’t picked up, and it probably showed in his expression. “Month and a half, huh?” Given how often the pair of them normally ended up having sex, this was going to make the next month and a half interesting.

Zoe winces a little. “I’m sorry, I just thought you knew, and with everything else going on...Wash, I’m about to push out a bowling ball and become the daily menu, I haven’t been thinking about sex.” She still feels badly that she didn’t tell him, and she rubs his shoulder a little. “You think you’ll survive?”

“I’ll survive,” he said, nodding, glancing at her stomach, and the ‘bowling ball’ she was about to give birth to. At the end of the day, it was Zoe. He’d do anything for her. “Been a crazy few weeks, sweetie.”

She looks at him, reaching out to touch his face lightly. “Crazier for you. You’re gonna be a dad in a few hours.” Zoe manages a little smile, then looks at her belly. “Well. God willin’. She could decide this was a joke too, but - “ She pauses for a contraction, and for all intents and purposes she’s very focused at this point, letting out a slow breath. When it passes, she closes her eyes again. “But I think she’s done. She’s ready .”

“No. No joke.” As far as Wash was concerned, the universe has played it’s only joke on them already. He just knew this was going to go fine.

“Could read a book,” she suggests. “Too late to start readin’ that ‘What to Expect’ book?” Her hand has unconsciously drifted to his chest, the place where she always goes now to reassure herself, to ground herself.

“Li’l late now,” Wash said with a smile, but he put his hand over hers, knowing why she does it, and if it gives her that little bit of reassurance, he’s happy to let her do it. He gives her a soft smile, knowing what this moment means to her, that he’s here for it. “I’m here, baby.”

Zoe’s a little afraid, that for all she’s wanted this moment to finally be here, something will happen. It’s not really in her control, after all. Looking at Wash, she doesn’t say anything, but it’s in her eyes, everything she’s not saying at the moment.

“Hey, I thought I was supposed to be the panicking one?” Wash said lightly, pushing her hair back, and gently caressing her cheek.

“Ain’t panickin’,” she insists, trying to figure out the words for it. “Know how you hate when Mal’s in control of the boat?” Very rare occasions. But she knew Wash would get it. “Whatever’s gonna happen, will happen, and I don’t get a lot of say.” Which is hard for Zoe, the one who always has a plan. Who can come up with rescue missions in an hour and has. Who always has a backup plan when Mal’s terrible first idea inevitably goes awry. For this though, she’s got nothing.

“Yeah, I know how I get,” Wash admitted. “Hate it.” He did. Mal was a lousy pilot by comparison, and he really hated it. “Maybe if I panic, that’ll be more normal, and it’ll make sense?” He was smiling at her. “All we gotta do is just hang on, it’ll soon be over.” He hoped.

Zoe smiles softly at her husband, then kisses him before letting her forehead rest against his shoulder. “You’re always calm when it counts. On the outside, anyway. But I swear, if you pass out in the delivery room I’ll never let you live it down. I hope you know that.”

“Oh you know me when I’m flyin’.” Veering from utter calm to sheer panic, depending on the day. “No passin’ out allowed. But that means I get to mop the brow, yes? I am fearsome at the mopping of the brow.” Wash was panicking underneath it all, but he was trying to be strong for Zoe.

Her answering smile is cut off by a contraction, and her forehead falls against Wash’s shoulder, feeling this one in her lower back, making her moan quietly as she tries to remember she’s not supposed to hold her breath - she’s supposed to breathe. She already knows that there might be some cursing involved here, because this contraction, and the raised level of pressure already has taken her by surprise.

When it passes, she catches her breath a little and looks at Wash. “Dressed. We need to get dressed, probably.”

Wash turned, nodding sharply, and stopping himself short of falling out of bed, but only just, as he opened drawers and dragged out some clothes for him, dressing quickly, then glancing at Zoe, seeing what she wants to wear.

Pushing herself up, she points at their dresser. “Soft pants. The gray ones. And the long sleeved black shirt hanging in the closet.” It’s cold outside, and she points at the back of a chair. “The scarf over there, too.”

Wash moved quickly, gathering up her clothes, and bringing them over to her. “Do you need a hand?” he asked, looking slightly nervy by now.

Zoe would look as frazzled as him, were there not gripping contractions taking over every ten minutes. “Help me up,” she nods, holding her hands out to him, not totally sure about moving right now.

Wash helped her up, carefully helping her dress, aware of just how much pain she looked to be in, but determinedly trying to stay cool and collected. She didn’t need his normal state of panic. Once they were ready, he sat back down, guessing that now all they could do was wait, and be there for Zoe.

For the next stretch of time, Zoe just listens to the quiet, how it stretches on like nothing’s changing. She’s done a lot - fought for what she believed in, killed men who threatened her, her husband. Married when she thought her heart was too hard. But this - this is the biggest thing she’s ever done, and she reaches for Wash, holding onto him tightly. She’d never figured out how she was supposed to do this without him, and she’s glad she doesn’t have to. She’s stunned though, realizing that after being impatient and praying for this moment - it’s here.

Looking at Wash, Zoe has an expression on her face somewhere between pain, joy, and surprise.

Wash wrapped his arms around Zoe, giving her the comfort she needed in this moment. For him, it’s beyond huge. He died not knowing that Zoe was pregnant, and yet here he was, with her as she went into labor. If he could change things, he would, but all he can do is focus on the here and now, and be here for Zoe though it all.

And his daughter.

She keeps having contractions, and for the first couple of hours they’re still ten minutes apart, like clockwork. She has one, then relaxes against Wash again, trying hard not to complain about any pain. Yet. She’s prepared for ten minutes. She’s ready for ten minutes, so she’s standing, pulling her hair back when her body decides to kick it into high gear and she doubles over after six minutes, hand shooting out to clutch the dresser. “qing wa cao de liu mang gui le se!**

“Wait. That wasn’t ten minutes,” Wash said, glancing at Zoe and frowning. Given how tightly she was clutching the dresser, he figured that it was a particularly painful contraction, and winced. “Definitely wasn’t.” No, he wasn’t panicking that it was getting closer. Nope.

“Painfully aware of how much time is goin’ by here, honey,” she says, panting hard and needing to walk, pacing their room for a few minutes until it’s definitely only six minutes before the next one. They hurt worse, and last a little longer, and this time she leans heavy against Wash, wrapping her hand up in his shirt.

Wash looked at Zoe, worried, pacing with her, letting her lean on him, and when it hits her, just being there for her. He feels utterly helpless right now, not being able to stop the pain, or make it go any easier. He thought about making a comment about it at least not being in space, but any reminder of space might not be a good idea now.

“Thinkin’ you should message Simon now,” she says, sweating lightly. She’s not sure if Wash will ever know that the fact that he’s here with her makes things so much better, makes her feel like she really can do this. Slowly she starts pulling on her coat, then her scarf. She almost tells Wash to wake up River, but decides to let her sleep a little while longer, at least until the real action is about to start.

Wash sent a simple message to Simon, grabbing his coat and putting on his shoes. He wouldn’t be surprised if River already knew, anyway. He was quickly back at Zoe’s side, that universal feeling of impending fatherhood and feeling useless while Zoe did all the hard work striking him.

They have to stop before even getting out of their room and into the hotel hallway, but she wants to be at the clinic now as fast as possible, so she tries hard to soldier through her contractions. “We get to the clinic, you won’t leave again.” It’s not a question. She’ll need him there - no going to get ice chips, not stepping into the hallway to talk to anyone. She needs to be able to see him.

Wash looked at her. “Not even to pee?” he asked in a quiet voice, then grinned at her. “I’ll be there. The only person I’d talk to would be Simon, anyway.”

Zoe does manage to give a little laugh at that, and she nods, looking over at him. “We’re goin’ to have a baby, husband.”

“Yeah, we are,” Wash said, a soft expression on his face as he looked at his wife. “Love you, Zoe.”

Thankfully it didn’t take them long to actually reach the clinic, though they had to stop a couple of times on the way.

Her water breaks when they’re close, which is not just uncomfortable but an unpleasant walk the rest of the way. She feels like things are happening too fast as she gets admitted and wheeled to a room. All that she has to do now is wait for Simon. Once he tells her exactly where she’s at, she can start thinking about how it’s going to go, or how it should go, rather.

Simon came in after the nurses had IVs started and all the monitors strapped to her body. Though there was probably still some time before it would be necessary to play 'catch', as it were, it was Zoe, and Wash, and Simon didn't at all mind staying with them for the duration.

"Are you comfortable enough?" he asked as he came up to her bedside to check the readouts on the monitors.

Wash was sat beside her, trying to soothe her as much as he could, but it wasn’t easy, not when he was wishing that he could take the pain away from her - and worried about what was going. He was just sitting there, stroking her hair and trying not to show his panic.

Zoe feels a little relief lying down, and even more when Simon is there. He’s the best doctor she knows - and she’s seen plenty in the war, patching people up and saving lives. The difference is that it seems to be Simon’s passion. She knows he’ll do everything he can to make sure things go smooth as they can.

“Comfortable as I think I’m gonna get,” she says, eyes closed with one hand in Wash’s. “How long we talkin’ about here?”

"Hopefully not much longer. It may not seem like it, but you're actually moving along quite well for a first pregnancy." Simon fussed a bit more than he likely would have with any other patient, checking the IV and the monitors; he might not be very good at offering comfort, but he could make sure she was taken care of in every way medically possible.

"Would you like something for the pain?"

Wash was the one who would in theory be offering comfort, so that was all okay. He snuck a glance at Simon, who he actually trusted as a doctor - he’d saved Zoe’s life, after all. “It’s okay, baby, you’re doing great,” he murmured.

Zoe’s debating on the pain medication question. She knows it’ll help, but she’s been shot, stabbed, blown up...she can do this. She shakes her head at Simon’s offer. Then, at Wash’s words of comfort, she smiles softly, though it wavers a little. “No drugs,” she says, letting out a breath. She focuses on Wash with the next contraction, trying to focus as she breathes. She’d meant to tell Simon that she appreciates him being here, but she doesn’t get a chance.

Simon started to point that that she won't be able to change her mind later, but...no, as she was riding through the pain of another contraction, he thought it might be best to hold his tongue.

"You're doing great, Zoe," he praised instead, echoing Wash, and he hurried over to the sink to scrub his hands and pull on a pair of gloves. "Just breathe through it, and then we'll check and see how much you've dilated." Well, Simon would check, but making it all seem a team effort sounded better somehow.

Unfortunately, Zoe had chosen that contraction to squeeze tightly only Wash’s hand, and he visibly winced in pain. Zoe had a good grip. “I might need ‘em,” he muttered after the contraction was ended, then smiled innocently at Zoe.

Once it’s over, Zoe looks at Wash, loose hair sticking to her forehead. “Sorry. Sorry, lao gong,” she says closing her eyes and letting go of his hand for the moment. But not touching him, she needs to see. Blinking a little, she focuses on him while Simon checks her over. She opens her mouth to say something, but instead her eyes fill with tears that have nothing to do with pain and she stays quiet instead.

Simon does his best to be quick and careful while checking her cervix, though he doubts he could do much to make her more uncomfortable than she already is. "You're a solid eight centimeters," he told her as he stripped off the gloves and tossed it into the waste canister. "And with your water broken, you're gonna move along fast. Just keep breathing through the pain, Zoe, it won't be much longer now."

He fidgets uncomfortably when he sees she's gone misty-eyed; Simon isn't good with tears on the best of days, but this is Zoe. He always imagined you'd have to beat Zoe bloody to make her tear up. "I'm...are you okay?"

Wash could guess why his wife had gone all misty eyed, and he resting his hand on her shoulder, a finger stroking softly along her jawline. “Not leaving, Zoe,” he murmured at her. He was staying right here, not leaving her side for anything.

Zoe nods at Wash, then looks up, realizing someone needs to send a message. “River. I need River to be here,” she says, looking at Simon. “She did all the breathing classes with me. She has to be here.” It’s not a question even up for debate, not to her.

“I’ll get her a message,” Simon assured Zoe, patting her hand awkwardly before he excused himself to step outside the room and do just that.

River was, predictably, standing in the hallway. She’d been there a while, peeking in the doorway occasionally and then going next door to play with a little girl who had to stay over night. They’d been busy, not surprising they hadn’t noticed.

“She’s ready,” Maya, and Zoe. Hard to tell which River means.

Wash looked up at River, not really surprised that she was there waiting. “Hey, River,” he said, though he was still right to his wife, his hand back in hers.

Zoe looks at River, relieved, and she closes her eyes. Now everyone who needed to be here, was here. “Gotta have my coach,” she says, managing a smile, her hand still tight in Wash’s. Another contraction and everything in her wants her to hold her breath and push, but she holds back, forehead creased in concentration and pain.

Simon jumped a foot when he realized River was already there, and wondered as he followed her back into the room why he was surprised. He spared the monitor a quick glance and watched the line rise and fall as Zoe breathe through another contraction. “You’re doing great,” he assured her. “It won’t be much longer now. I’m going to get the nurse, then I’ll check you again when I get back. If you’re at a full ten, we’ll start pushing.” Yes, he’s using the ‘we’ again.

Wash glanced between his wife and Simon, feeling very much out of the loop, but doing his best just to be calm for Zoe. He guessed it was kind of like most new fathers felt, but heightened, given he hadn’t exactly had the full time to get ready for it.

After what feels like forever, not really sure how much time has passed, Zoe feels like everything is constant, her breathing harsh, her hand shaking in Wash’s, River on her other side. “Someone tell me I can push. Right now.”

“You can push,” River said, sparing a glance for Simon and the startled nurse. He was annoyed with her, she could tell and not just because she could read minds, but because he was making the face. “She’s ready.”

Meaning Maya.

Wash looked at River, startled, but then he figured he shouldn’t be all that surprised. “Doin’ good, baby,” he murmured at Zoe, having given up on sitting, and was standing next to her, just brushing her hair back.

Simon was only a little annoyed, but the nurse had everything ready, and Zoe was dilated enough to push. “Next contraction, Zoe, bear down and give a big push,” he replied, patting her knee comfortingly. “She’s ready to come out now.”

“I already said that,” River reminded him.

Zoe grips Wash’s hand, looking up at him for a second. It’s finally time, this is it, and with the next contraction, she pushes.

And holy God it hurts worse than she ever thought it would. She’s sitting up the best she can, Wash supporting her back, and she listens to River do the counting they’d both practiced together, all the way to ten. Then again. The next two contractions go much the same, Zoe not even realizing that she’s been screaming at Wash. After ten minutes she leans back on the pillows, looking up at Wash. “This...Wash. I...” She’d never say she can’t, because she can, but it’s worse than she thought it would be.

Wash looks pale, and is trying to calm his nerves, but he hates seeing Zoe like this. “Shhhh, baby,” he said, touching his forehead to hers. “I’m here, it’s good, she’s nearly here.”

“You’re doing fantastic, Zoe,” Simon assured her, firmly. “Her head’s nearly out. Just a few more and it’ll be smooth sailing. You can do this.”

Zoe takes a second to simply breathe against Wash, then, without thinking about it, she reaches for River’s hand too, pushing again, crying out in pain as she does. She sees white, can’t hear anything else, and she just pushes until suddenly there’s no more pressure and she instinctively stops, gasping, sweat making her hair stick to her neck. For a minute she has no idea what to do, she doesn’t know what’s happening, and she focuses on Simon.

“You are doing well,” River gave Zoe’s hand a squeeze, the pain and all of the emotion in the room was overwhelming but she was staying on task and doing the counting. She let Wash be in charge of the fearsome brow mop and Simon and the nurse be in charge of what they were meant to be in charge of. “Soon.”

Zoe’s grip on Wash’s hand got tighter, but he did his best to ignore it, just focusing on her, encouraging her, helping her sit as she needs to, but when she stops, and sags against him, he looked between her and Simon, just waiting.

Simon beamed suddenly, and he and the nurse are quite busy for a moment passing instruments and towels back and forth before the thin but lusty cry of a newborn is heard. "There's the head!" he exclaimed. "Shoulders next, push Zoe, you're almost there!"

Zoe doesn’t even register anything except push again, and she’s so damn tired. But she bears down with a low groan, giving the last of what she’s got.

Wash registers the cry though, and he gives Zoe a small, joyous smile before encouraging her to push again. The daughter he wasn’t supposed to be able to meet was almost here, and he was damn well going to do everything he could to help Zoe through this.

And just like that, Simon is placing a red, wriggling, squalling baby girl on Zoe's stomach, as the nurse cleans her up and Simon sees to clamping and cutting the cord. "You did it," he exclaimed with a wide grin. "She's perfect, Zoe."

Maybe not very pretty at the moment--newborn babies never are--but still.

Zoe just stares, hands moving to this tiny...crying...she looks up at Wash, blinking hard as her fingers move over the baby’s head. Then, she can’t take her eyes off of her, listening to her cry, looking at her daughter who is rightly pissed at the moment. Zoe laughs lightly, vision suddenly blurred a little, blindly reaching for Wash with one hand.

Wash just stared at the tiny baby that was lying on Zoe, his eyes wide with shock. “Oh Zoe,” he murmured, taking her hand and kissing it.”That’s our Maya...” He couldn’t quite believe it.

A minute ago, Zoe was exhausted, ready to close her eyes and sleep for hours. But now she’s got a second wind, and she takes the edge of the blanket and gently wipes off her daughter’s face, then lets go of Wash so that she can cradle the baby properly before she’s taken by one of the nurses to be weighed and measured.

Wash watched as the nurse took her away, then looked back at Zoe, his fingers tracing along her jawline. “You did it, sweetie,” he said in a low voice.

Simon tended to Zoe while the nurses cleaned Maya up, recorded her weight and length at time of birth. Once mother was equally cleaned up, the nurse brought the baby over and settled her in Zoe's arms.

"We'll have to take her and give her a proper bath and her first inoculations," Simon explained as he draped a fresh linen over Zoe's legs. "But you'll have an hour or so of quiet together before then."

Holding onto Maya, Zoe looks at this tiny, squinting baby with a cap on her head, wrapped up tight. She doesn’t even have words for what this feels like, to finally see her. “Maya Abetzie Washburne.”

Wash couldn’t take his eyes off his daughter. His daughter. “She’s perfect,” he said, keeping one hand on Zoe’s shoulder. That contact was what he needed to keep him grounded. “And the name’s just right, sweetie.”

“God, I’m so glad you’re here, Wash,” she says, low between them. She looks up at him, but right now she just beams. “We made a baby, husband.”

“Just like you said we would, way back on Nandi’s ranch,” Wash said, looking at Zoe, and leaning in to kiss her forehead. “And here she is.”

So much has happened between now and Nandi’s ranch that Zoe can’t right comprehend it all. She lost so many things, and now in this room she has it all back, plus some six pounds, four ounces. And that hour, the first hour and a half goes by with her just staring at Maya who finally succumbed to the exhaustion of being born and drifted off.

River probably should have left when Simon and the nurse did, but well, River didn’t always do what she should do and she didn’t think Zoe or Wash minded her sitting there with them. But instead of watching Maya, who was red and wrinkly and definitely a baby - meaning her emotions were very easy to define - she watched the new parents. The love and little hints of sadness that made no sense and the exhaustion that did.

Wash is just happy sitting there, watching his daughter silently. He couldn’t help thinking about back in the real world, and how he shouldn’t have this chance, but he’s not going to miss out on a single moment if he can help it. Talk about second chances.

*Prehistoric. Wash is being random.
**Bad words. Very bad words.