Jessica complied with little resistance as Luke climbed onto the bed behind her. It was a bit awkward, but what wasnât at this point? The bed had ample space for the both of them, and as Luke situated himself, the Asgardian ladyâs maid helped arrange the requisite towels and things to keep them both comfortable as best as they could be.
âNames, you serious?â she panted. Jess realized it was a conversation sheâd been avoiding because of her fear that the kid wouldnât be a girl. Then what were they going to do? âFuck. Okay, think of some, weâve got time. Iâm feeling brutally honest today.â Her eyes followed his hand as he touched her stomach. Their daughter was in there, ready to be let loose into the world. She tensed just at the thought of it.
Jessica listened as Luke kind of rambled. It was cute- he may have been over âblind panicâ but he was still nervous, she could tell. She just preferred to keep her mouth shut while nervous. And hell, was she nervous. And Luke was already talking about their child being a superhero? Jess couldnât exactly say she wished that on the kid- nor did she wish a superpowered baby on the two of them as first-time parents.
Jane came back through the room to assure them Heimdall- their magic gatekeeper guy- was going to bring Dr. Thompson in as soon as possible. Jessica took ice chips and ground them between her teeth, because what else was there for her to do?
Doctor Thompson was magically teleported in sometime in the early evening. (Norse aliens had all the magic bullshit, didnât they?) Without much of her equipment, the doctor was going to take things slowly with Jessica- no sense in hurting her or the baby by rushing things.
Meanwhile, Jessica exhausted every profanity she had at her disposal, grasping at Luke all the while for support or out of a sense of vengeance towards him each time she ached. The contractions were more painful than she had expected, and sheâd been shot before. Sometime later, Trish arrived, as did some paparazzi (Jess caught wind of it after it mysteriously began thundering outside on an otherwise clear night). There wasnât much for her sister to do, so Trish sat by idly and watched. Not keen on having an audience, Jessica was relieved that Danny and Matt hadnât chosen to arrive yet.
Her game of tug-of-war with her uterus and the doctor persisted through the night. Jessica alternated between clinging to Luke for strength and making him the object of her anger, because she couldnât take it out on the baby and he was the closest target. Nothing too mean, but after a while she wasnât even sure if she was forming coherent sentences. She was panicking. What if she couldnât do this? There was no way to back out at this stage. And once the child was out, there was no backing down from what came next.
But finally, some point early the next morning, Dr. Thompsonâs voice lowered as she softly repeated, âThatâs it. There we go. Just keep breathing. Here she is.â
Jessica craned her neck downwards and watched as the doctor and the Asgardian woman cleaned the baby- they said baby girl, right?. The new mother was dumbfounded. That was her baby. Their little girl. Damn, she couldnât see his face but she could feel the joy radiating off of Luke. Dr. Thompson approached with the wrinkled thing that was her daughter and Jessica watched as the baby was lowered onto her chest. That squirming, newborn thing. Their daughter.
She froze up as the child was placed against her skin. Jessica chewed her lower lip for a moment before asking a million questions all at once-
âWhatâŠ. what do I do now?â
The hardest thing was knowing he couldnât really do anything to make this easier. This was Jessicaâs body. He couldnât take her pain away, and though he would have cheerfully let her hurt him, that was almost impossible. She did her level best and from time to time he made a noise to indicate that it was working.
All those Lamaze classes were completely forgotten, but he followed the lead of the Asgardian midwife. He whispered sweet nonsense in Jessicaâs ear, told her time and time again how strong she was, and that she had this, she could do it. Sometimes, she seemed alarmingly frail and tiny; other times, she seemed like the strongest woman on Godâs green earth, a Valkâ okay, not that, now he knew they werenât mythical, but powerful, Amazonian, miraculous.
âWe made a life,â he murmured, more than once. She was coming. She was so close. He murmured ideas for names, mostly ridiculous ones that would have made her laugh if she wasnât trying to push a watermelon out of her vagina. He kissed her neck and her shoulder and her hair and promised they were going to be the best parents any kid could ever hope for. That she was going to get every opportunity theyâd ever wanted but couldnât have. He briefly wondered if he was wrong, if they might have a boy, and decided it didnât matter because heâd love a boy just as much and also, he was right.
By the time Jessicaâs strength seemed to be completely sapped, Lukeâs was definitely waning too. This was still normal, right? Doc Thompson and the midwife didnât look worried, so he couldnât be either.
âThere she is,â Luke whispered, awed. âThatâs our little girl, Jessie. I told you I had powerful genes â sheâs black, black as her dad.â
Her tiny eyes were scrunched up and she was covered in things Luke didnât want to think too hard about, but they cleaned her up, and moments later she was resting in Jessicaâs arms. Not even crying too much, just little wails of confusion (and he could understand that, he really could). Luke pressed a finger against her tiny palm and she gripped him tight.
âOh, yeah, sheâs definitely super,â he said, keeping himself steady so that Jessica could rest. Somewhere in another room there were whoops of joy and if Thor hadnât just called for ale Luke would eat his hat. Or someone elseâs, since he really didnât do hats as a rule. He watched as they severed the umbilical cord and dealt with the placenta, all of that. And just like that, their daughter was her own person, whole and healthy (and with a lot of black hair).
âDanielle,â he said. âLetâs call her Danielle. Dani for short.â Let her piece that together later; Luke kind of loved the idea of naming his daughter after his best friend, and Danielle was a pretty name, a name not burdened by intergenerational expectations or grief.
He had no idea how long heâd been looking at her, the red face, the tense little arms.
âHey. Jessica,â he said, craning his head so he could see her face and be sure she hadnât nodded off. Se was still awake, gazing in awe. âJessie. Letâs get married. Marry me. I wanna be your husband. Want you to be my wife. âTil death do us part, and all.â
He nuzzled against her cheek. Timing? Probably off, but the ring tucked into his underwear drawer at home wasnât exactly on his priorities list once Jessicaâs waters had broken.
