Pregnant Kim anon here again, please know that after I sent that I decided to “warm up” by outlining an entire fic and didn’t get any novel writing done lol. I would love a snippet full of ANGST because I think Kim deserves it right now for what he’s done to my brain
asdfjhagsdjfh VALID! ALL OF THAT IS VALID!
Here is your angst, my darling. I realized I actually don't have a ton of the pregnancy itself written yet, so here's a little bit (lol. it's over 1k, I got carried away) that happens soon after the birth. Kim has horrible post-partum depression thanks to everything that happens in this fic. TW for graphic description of depression and implied suicidal ideation
Chay entered the bedroom to find Kim beneath the covers still, at nearly three in the afternoon. Curled up on his side, tears steadily leaking from the corner of his eye every time he blinked, making a wet spot on the pillow beneath his cheek. He wasn’t even really crying. His eyes were just wet, and that wetness was dripping, and Kim had long since given up on trying to stop it.
Chay didn’t ask, are you okay? Because he already knew what the answer would be. Instead he climbed onto the bed and spooned up behind Kim, and asked him, “What are you thinking about?”
“It’s not real.”
“What isn’t?”
“This. The depression. All of it. It feels real. It feels awful. But it isn’t. It’s just hormones and chemicals. It’s not me.” Kim didn’t sniffle, or sob, or sigh. His voice didn’t change from the even, monotonous quality it always had when he was trying not to feel. He just breathed. Closed his eyes against a fresh wave of tears, not that it did anything to halt their fall. “I thought once it was over, everything would be okay. I would be free. But it’s never going to stop, is it? There’s no normal for me to go back to. Just this.”
“P’Kim—” Chay’s voice cracked. He swallowed back what sounded like the beginnings of a sob and buried his face in the back of Kim’s neck. Weeks of exposure to Kim’s moods hasn’t made them any easy to handle, not least of all because he knew there’s nothing for him to do. He couldn’t take away this pain. “Please don’t talk like that. It is going to be okay. This isn’t forever. The doctor said it would take at least a month for your medicine to start working—it has to build up in your system, remember? Then everything will be okay.”
Kim didn’t say that the antidepressants only made him feel worse. Blunted him. Blurred any scrap of goodness he could cling too, until it was part of the same empty haze as everything else. He didn’t say that there was no drug strong enough to mask the bone-deep repulsion he felt every time he cradled his daughter to his breast to nurse. Nothing that could make him forget her conception when the pain of her birth was a constant reminder. He didn’t say anything at all.
Chay squeezed his arm around Kim’s middle, between his aching, swollen breasts, and his aching, swollen incision. Squeezed tight enough that it should have hurt if Kim were capable of feeling anything at all.
“You’re scaring me, P’Kim,” Chay whispered, holding Kim so tight he could hardly breathe. That was alright. He didn’t need to breathe.
“I love you, Chay. Thank you for staying with me. I… I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. Or that I did, I shouldn’t have—right before—” Before he nearly died. He shouldn’t have said it then. In what he thought were his last moments, he needed Chay to know. But it was selfish to let those be his last words to the boy.
“Thank you for telling me. I’m glad you did. And I love you, too, P’Kim, so much. You are so, so loved, and someday soon, all of this is going to be better, okay? You just have to hold on until then.” Chay’s voice turned near-manic as it fully dawned on him just what he was bargaining for. “Promise me, Kim. Promise me you won’t leave again.”
“I promise.” A mechanical admission in that dull voice, but no less true. Kim found Chay’s hand where it was pressed over his beating heart and laced their fingers together.
Kim knew Chay would no doubt tell their brothers about his alarming mood, and they would no doubt take him back to the doctor. He knew about the lists Chay had printed out and hidden away in his desk, spread across three pages and outlining the symptoms of baby blues, postpartum depression, and psychosis, with little checked boxes to track him. He’d filled out nearly half the page for depression before ever leaving the hospital.
Kim wondered how many ticks he got on the last page before they took him away for good. Before they took his daughter away. Maybe they should; she would no doubt be better off without him. He hadn’t even wanted to keep her. Had nearly bled out moments after meeting her. Maybe it was a sign he wasn’t meant to have her at all.
“Make sure Kiah’s taken care of,” Kim said softly, his face half-buried in the pillows. “I can’t—I’m not good for her. If I can’t take care of her, you’ll find someone who will, won’t you?” Kim went through too much to bring her into this world, he wouldn’t let her suffer for his own unwillingness to give her up, if that’s what it took to offer a better life.
Behind him, Chay swallowed thickly.
“Of course, P’Kim. I’ll make sure she’s always safe and loved.”
The weight that’s been hung around Kim’s shoulders since he made the decision to bring Kiah home finally lifted, a relief he didn’t know he needed. He sighed and sank back into Chay’s warm embrace, the tension finally melting out of his body, and squeezed the hand still lying over his heart.
“You’re safe and loved, too,” Chay said. “You have me, and Porsche, and your brothers, and P’Pol, and P’Arm, and P’Big. We’re all going to make sure both of you are safe and loved and taken care of. I won’t leave you alone again, P’Kim. Not ever.”
Kim didn’t doubt it. He never had. All this time, Chay’s love—the love of his family—has been an unwavering presence, cutting through the misery that’s cloaked him these last nine months. Kim didn’t know how to express that to Chay. That there was nothing to worry about. Kim wouldn’t hurt himself, with or without their constant supervision. He didn’t want to. He was only acknowledging the unrelenting misery he felt every waking moment, and accepting that it would likely follow him for the rest of his life. He didn’t prefer it, but he knew it was inevitable that these feelings would continue to be his constant companions.
However he may feel, Kim knew he owed it to his daughter to be the best father he could be for her. And if his best wasn’t good enough, he would find someone that could give her what she deserved. Even still, Kim appreciated the reassurance. Appreciated Chay, for the way the younger boy has stayed at his side for so long, seen him through so much horror and heartbreak, and would show that appreciation however he could. Even if the most he could do was hold his hand and promise not to leave.
