how did you ever think you could do this?
Neither of you can.
This daunting realization was only beginning to sink in, as your fingers curled mindlessly around tiny, clutching hands. This was real. You made this, and it was probably going to die before it was a year old. The thought clawed at the back of your head for the last few months, and now it was hard to look at it without seeing it as just a piece of flesh, as dead as all the other limbs that used to litter this place— and still do, in parts, but Eddie had, admittedly, tried very hard to keep it free of viscera since he found out about your little... Thing. You watched through cold eyes as its little fingers pawed at your hair, soft coos falling clumsily from its mouth.
You heard a door open, accompanied by the pleasant humming that Eddie seemed to be doing a lot of lately. You quickly changed your blank expression, forcing a smile as he stood behind you, hands gripping the back of the metal, fold-out chair you occupied. You felt his breath against your neck as he rested his chin on your shoulder.
"How's my little guy?" He hummed, moving his hands across your arms. You grit your teeth, annoyed that that was the first thing he's said to you all day, but continued forcing yourself to smile.
"It's-...he's fine." You corrected. You glanced over, to see if maybe he noticed, but the wide, contented smile reassured you that at the very least he thought nothing of it. The little thing cradled in your arms babbled and reach up towards Eddie. Before you could protest, he'd circled around and taken the thing from you. It was hard to express how much you hated whenever Eddie held the baby. You knew it was ok, He wouldn't hurt it, but something in you knew this man shouldn't be within a hundred feet of an infant, especially your infant. Even though it made you deeply nauseous to see him with it, it was nice to see him so happy. He bounced on his heels, cooing, and swaying and-
"Ok, that's enough, give it back." You reached out but the look he gave you told you that it would be unwise. You sighed and settled back in your chair, eyes firmly on Eddie, judging every twitch of his muscles, evaluating how much danger he posed at the moment— which was always a little. It was easy to forget, or ignore, really, how dangerous he was when it was only you that he was dangerous to.
After a while, the little thing seemed to have fallen asleep in its fathers arms. Eddie breathed a sigh and glanced towards you.
"what about Adam? That's a strong name." He spoke softly
"He needs a name."
"We should wait."
you didn't have an answer. Or at least, you didn't have an answer that Eddie wanted to hear. You opened your mouth, hoping an excuse would manifest itself, but before it had the chance there was a loud crashing sound a few rooms over, like a body hurling itself down the stairs. Eddie gently passed off the little bundle, and began for the door. It honestly amazed you how much it could sleep through.
"We'll talk about this when I get back."
Your eyes landed on the little thing again, wondering for a moment if "Adam" really suited it. You shook your head, clearing the thought from your mind. You didn't want to name it. You didn't want it to become anything more than a thing bound to die. You remembered how happy you were when you first realized that you were expecting, and the slow-mounting comprehension of what that ment. You began to once again notice the things you'd learned to ignore, like the blood soaked floor boards, the random body parts you'd find in just the most unexpected places, and the fact that there was nearly always someone screaming, distant or otherwise.
But mostly, you began to notice Eddie.
You still loved him, that wasn't in question, but you began to wonder what would happen if he was ever charged with caring for a small, helpless, completely dependent being, and in your mind it always ended poorly.
He had such a temper, though it didn't bother you very much, as you could always navigate across the eggshells fairly well, and if you didn't, it was purposely, and his violent reactions were expected and appreciated, but you imagined a child would be far less adept and far less appreciative of his certain brand of crazy. Then again, even if he could perfectly control his temper around the little thing, his mental state —namely his sense of consequences and of reality, or rather, his lack there of was also extremely dangerous. What would happen if he ever left, chasing some delusion, while he was supposed to be watching the baby? A dead baby. A dead baby is what would happen. Nauseating visions of a completely well meaning Eddie somehow fucking up basic care to the point of completely unintentional —and quite possibly completely unnoticed murder played in your head like constant torture.
Eddie, of course, was blissfully unaware of your reservations. He had been on cloud nine since you first suggested that you might be pregnant, taking extra care with you, jumping to investigate the slightest noises, and often stooping down to talk lovingly to your navel, no matter how much you insisted there was no way you were far enough along for it to be able you hear him.
The biggest, and most unexpected surprise was the few days he spent scrubbing the floors and disposing of the various rotting bits scattered about. When he was finished, it wasn't great. It still smelled like old blood and older meat, and there was still a reddish hue to the floors, but when you saw his face, you decided you didn't care very much about the smells or the hues. He looked so proud. Proud to finally be the responsible, hard working, provider he'd always seen himself as. it was honestly adorable.
You were very suddenly snapped out of your fond memories by an insistent babbling from the little object of anxiety. If you allowed yourself to care about the thing, it'd worry you how seldom it seemed to cry. You shushed it quietly, not willing to draw any unwanted attention while unprotected, and began to bounce it absent mindedly on your lap.
It would be easier to do it yourself.
it would be quicker.
it would probably hurt less.
you didn't want it to hurt.
again, your train of thought was interrupted by the sound of soft cooing, and hands reaching out for your face. You figured it wanted affection. Eddie was better at that then you were. You held it closer to you and kissed it's head, trying desperately to distance yourself emotionally. Losing him was going to hurt. You felt tears well in your eyes as you imagined it. What would Eddie do? Would he be racked with grief, or would he want to immediately try for a replacement? You honestly didn't know.
You sat there, offering hollow affection for a few more hours, until finally the door opened, revealing a cheerful, albeit, exhausted looking Eddie. He apologized profusely for taking so long and the fresh, dark Crimson hand marks across the front of his vest explained what he was busy with better then he was willing to.
you sat the baby down gently in the make-shift crib Eddie had meticulously thrown together
"So, I believe we were-"
"Adam is fine."
it came out more irritably then you had meant for and you felt a tinge of remorse for snapping at him, but by the time you realized it, your feet had already carried you though the nearest door, and into the nearest bed. It was a worrying amount of time before Eddie followed, sliding into bed behind you, immediately wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his face in the crook of your neck.
"did you lock the doors?"
he hummed against your skin affirmatively
"is he alright?"
he hummed again, as he began to plant little kisses against your neck.
You reached back to curl your fingers through his hair, his teeth brushing against your veins.
"are you sure he's-"
you were cut off by a tightening of the arms around you.
"he's. Fine. Now stop it. I need this."
you let out an unintentional whimper. His voice was low, and dangerous and it told you that he wasn't playing around. It had been a while since you and Eddie were intimate in any meaningful way. He refused to risk injuring the baby and as rough as he liked to be it was probably a good call, then, after it was born and your body had properly healed from the honestly ill-advised c-section preformed by the doctor you recognized vaguely from your wedding ceremony, there was just no time.
You arched your back, pressing against him, teasing him.
you needed this just as much as he did, and you needed it rough.
he breathed out what resembled a laugh as one of his hands moved up to rest threateningly against your throat.
"you really don't want to do that." He breathed into your ear
you were fairly certain that you did. So you did it again.
"then stop me."
Before you realized what had happened, he'd completely changed your positions. You were face down on the bed, your back arching painfully, one of his hand pressing hard against the back of your neck, while the other gripped the front of your upper thigh, pulling you against him as he loomed over you.
The hand on your neck trailed up slowly, until it tangled itself in your hair.
"little slut." He spat as he yanked against the roots of your hair, eliciting a painful gasp as your neck craned back, your chest still flat against the bed.
you whined at the loss of contact as the hand on your thigh disappeared, the sound of rustling cloth and metal echoing through your ears. There was a moment of silence that lasted far too long for your liking, as you pushed your hips back against him in an attempt to provoke him.
you bit your lip, stifling a scream, as the cool leather of his belt popped audibly against your skin.
"You. Need. To. Be. Patient." He growled, each word punctuated by another sharp landing of the leather. You felt pinprick tears in your eyes as you grit your teeth, trying your best to stay quiet.
After a few more hits, he stopped, trailing the belt lightly against your back, down your spine, and ending in one final smack against your thigh.
"Now, are you ready to be good?"
You felt him line himself up and push inside you. Just half of his length felt like all you could take, what with being so out of practice, as he slowly pulled himself out all the way to the tip, before slamming all the way back in. You couldn't hold in the first scream, knuckles turning white as they gripped against the sheet beneath you. This painful rhythm continued for a while, him slowly pulling out, before ramming back in, again, and again. you had to bite into your forearm to keep from screaming. Finally he began to quicken his pace, small breathy moans beginning to drip from his mouth. You could feel his nails digging into your hips as he pulled you into him.
he bucked harshly into you, and you swore he'd tear you apart.
"Ah...ah, E-Eddie...p-please...ow..ahh...not..not so h-hard..."
you both knew that never worked. If anything it'd only make it worse, which may or may not have been what you counted on.
He yanked against your hair again
you didn't have to look at his face to tell how hard he was trying to be quite, though if you had you'd see his bottom lip caught painfully between his teeth, as he tried to stifle the string of moans and profanity threatened to leave his mouth.
you could feel his movements becoming more and more erratic as he reached his limit. You tried your best to hang on, as you were almost there yourself, but as his moaning became more needy and desperate you knew you didn't have to wait much longer.
You felt his hand leave your hair and snake down to your face, covering your mouth as he pulled you up so that your back was flush against his chest. You realized why he covered your mouth when you felt teeth sink into your shoulder, deep enough to draw blood, and you let out a muffled scream as you came. He followed suit, using your shoulder to soften the sound of his climax, as he huffed desperately into your skin.
finally you collapsed together, both sufficiently exhausted.
A few minutes went by and you caught your breath, turning over to see if Eddie had the same endorphin fueled grin that you did. He might have, if he was awake. Your smile softened, and you placed a kiss on his temple, before redressing and preparing to resume your responsibilities as a mother.
You quietly opened the door, trying not to wake the baby, if you hadn't already.
you felt your heart stop.
"little baby....sweet baby.... So pretty... So sleepy... So lovely...lovely baaaby..."
there was a man —a stranger, standing, hunched over the crib, whispering incoherently and holding a large, bloody steel pipe.
how...how had he...?
you stared at the stranger, mouth slightly agape.
You felt the urge to scream but nothing came out.
Instead, your feet began to move, seemingly of their own accord. Your mind was racing so face you could barely register your own movements as you reach down, only distantly aware of the rough wooden board in your hands.
He was so preoccupied with his babbling he didn't even see you as you raised the thick piece of wood and swung, the momentum of the heavy object colliding against his skull with a sickening crack.
it was as if you we watching through someone else's eyes as you continued to swing, a faint feeling of warmth splattering across your face.
you didn't stop until you knew he was dead.
in all honesty, you knew he was dead a while before, but your body continued, completely beyond your control.
finally, You stopped.
For a few seconds you just stared.
There was so much blood. All over the floor, splattered across the wall and your face, your hands but mostly covering the still heap of cloth and skin that used to be a person.
You heard the far away sound of the board clattering against the ground and wondered for a second who was screaming.
it was you.
you only were only partially aware of the sound of a door opening, and of Eddie rushing out to see what happened.
you were fully aware of the sudden sound of crying coming from inside the crib.
you moved to the crib, slowly regaining control of your limbs as you pulled the baby from the crib. You feel tears streaming down your face, intermingling with the splattered blood. You never thought that crying could sound so beautiful.
"oh my god, it's ok, sweetheart. It's ok... Mamas here...it's ok..oh my god...it's ok." You held him against your chest, repeating the same reassurances to both the baby and yourself until you'd calmed down enough to explain what had happened to Eddie —not that it wasn't fairly obvious.
From then on you decided you were gonna try your damnedest to keep this thing alive.