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missameliep · 1 year

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The Next Chapter (Wake the Dead - Troy Hassan x MC)

Book: Wake the Dead

Pairing: Troy Hassan x Malia Jones

Characters: Malia Jones (MC), Troy Hassan, Shannon Fox, May.

Rating: M (see notes bellow)

Word count: ~3.900

Summary: After the colonies survive the second surge, Malia and Troy make a hard choice, but one they are not going to regret. On the contrary.

Notes:

English is not my first language;

Characters belong to Pixelberry, except OC;

I don't know if we learn how old May is in the book, but I HC she's around 6/7yo, so she's 13/14yo in this story;

This fic was inspired by an ask from a lovely anonymous reader and is my submission to @choicesdecember2022 - day 7 - Question…? | kiss | middle of the night (thanks for hosting it @peonierose);

Trigger Warning: pregnancy; mentions of miscarriage; mentions of zombies; mention of a minor character death; non-descriptive mentions of medical procedure; kissing and make out; language; readers discretion advised;

The events from this fic take place 7 years after the end of the book.

“Sorry! You want me to do what?” The chair squeaked when Shannon abruptly turned around to face Malia in that small improvised space that functions both as hospital and lab, where she spends most of the hours of her days.

Fighting a laughter, Malia repeated slowly, “To remove the implant.”

The other’s gaze darted to her face, while her brain was possibly searching for any rational explanation for such an odd request. Her voice dropped to a whisper, despite the fact nobody was around, “Why? Are you experiencing pain? If you are, we can run some tests.”

This time Malia didn’t hold the laughter, remembering some of the weirdest conversations of her entire life – which is quite an accomplishment considering her frequent visits to the lab to assist on Shannon's research on drones, and the autopsies of the weirdest specimens they got ahold of that she assisted.

“Right now, no pain. But if those ladies at weaving mill were not trying to scare me, I can expect a lot of pain in my future.”

Shannon’s eyes widened and she stared in confusion. For the past eight years, since Malia broke that glass window to rescue the scientist, their friendship bloomed, they taught one another, shared secrets and had each other’s backs countless times... However, even after all these years – or because of them –, Malia wasn’t able to teach her dear friend to relax and not assume any minor complaint or request from her might hide a terrible illness that will leave her all alone again – no matter how many times she assured her even if she were gone, the colony has plenty of people who care for her. There was no time to revisit the subject now and the other's jaw tensing that much wasn't fun to watch.

Malia decided to cut her some slack and go straight to the point, “I want a baby.”

“Oh!” Shannon’s deep brown eyes widened and it was almost possible to hear the engines turning inside her head.

“You can do it, right?” she pressed, eager for a confirmation.

“Of course. It’s supposed to be a simple procedure: a small incision to remove it from under your skin and two stitches to close it.”

“Great! You’re free to do it now, right?” Malia clapped her hands and proceeded to remove her t-shirt, already knowing nobody else was coming for the doctor this time of the day.

“Don’t you have questions before we start?”

Malia shook her head, already picturing the three kids she and Troy talk about during late night shifts on watch or long trips to explore the cities they get their supplies from. He even suggested some names if they were all boys; she still hasn’t figured out why the names Huey, Dewey, and Louie are so hilarious and make him bend over with laughter.

“Are you aware of the aftereffects? Once you remove the implant, the hormonal doses will cease, and your body will go through changes. You’ll experience menstrual periods, for instance. There are reports of immensely painful experiences and some conditions that might require painkillers and medical attention.”

“Again, the mill ladies made sure to share all the gross details. So, you can check that box,” she said pointing at the clipboard over the desk where Shannon writes down information about the patients and keeps a checklist that makes her less anxious about forgetting important information she must tell the patients before actually doing any procedure. Unless it is emergency care, she believes people should have a saying on their treatment and information makes people less scared of what they will be facing.

Malia knows by heart that speech that justifies her caution. Shannon is a scientist, but necessity turned her into basically a one-woman medical team, fortunately an excellent and empathetic one, and the perfect professor to train others to deal with healthcare in the colonies.

Taking a deep breath, Shannon put the pen down and got up.

“Alright. If you already researched the side effects and are sure... We can start.”

Walking to a corner of the room, she soaped and scrubbed her hands. The scent of the sanitizer reached Malia’s nostrils, already seated at the edge of the gurney.

“It might take weeks for the hormonal levels in your body regulate,” Shannon’s words were punctuated by the light clinking of metallic items, while she fished them from a drawer. “I can run some tests in the meantime.”

“Only if you swear not to treat me like your drones...” Malia joked, and the other shoulders shook with a quiet laugh while she prepared the instruments.

“Next time, I’ll go with you and Troy to that library you mentioned. I need to research some medical books so I can know exactly the required hormonal levels, and how to keep the embryo viable until the insemination.”

“The what?”

“Embryo is the technical term for the fertilized egg that will become your baby. Or babies. Because of the odds we must implant at least two or three.” Shannon smiled to herself with the idea and turned around to face her and continued the explanation.

Now it was Malia’s turn to get confused.

“I’ll need to run some tests on Troy too, assuming he will be the donor.”

“Donor? Oh! Wait!” Malia waved her hands, finally recovering her ability to speak. “No need to help us in that whole conceiving part, we’re doing this Old-World style.”

The other’s eyebrows raised momentarily, and she took a deep breath, letting the information sink in. “So, I suppose my help won’t be necessary then...”

“If all I heard is true, I’m sure I’ll need a lot of help from you. Specially with the actual giving birth part. No way in hell I’m pushing a watermelon-sized baby through my vagina while sober. So, you better come up with a lot of drugs. And I’m talking about drugs potent enough to knock down a horse, darling!”

They laughed together and Shannon asked Malia to lie still, while she filled a syringe with the content of a small vial.

“Maly, I will do all I can to help you. I’ll research the best birthing methods. We’ll have months to prepare. Don’t worry.”

Shannon averted her gaze and took the syringe.

“If you get pregnant.” She paused and focused on cleansing her hands with sanitizer. “At the lab I saw the rates and the reasons in vitro fertilization was the chosen method to all births in the facilities. Besides the lower rates, there are higher chances of malformation and spontaneous abortion during the first weeks and –”

Malia sat up and rested a hand on her shoulder interrupting her speech.

“We’ll take our chance. You and I were conceived the old way and we turned out alright, didn’t we? Well, you more than alright, considering that you combine a genius brain with that face of yours!”

A giddy giggle escaped her lips and a smile rounded Shannon’s reddened cheeks, and she resumed the tasks. Using ice to numb and an almost insignificant fraction of a dose of anesthetic despite Malia’s protest to not spend precious resource on her.

“I’m used to pain.”

“We have enough, don’t worry,” Shannon said, holding the syringe. “You’re not scared?”

“About that huge knife you’ve got over there? Definitely!”

“Scalpel. And that’s the smallest...” she smiled softly. “And you know what I mean...”

“I’m terrified!” A chuckle rumbled in her chest. “But in a good way. Troy and I want this so much. We have talked about having a baby for years... We barely survived the first surge... But what we learned about the hives and how to get rid of them before the surge. All things considered, the second one was way smoother and I have hope things are getting back on track. There are fewer hordes now, the scouts from every colony reported; and some days are so quiet that you can almost hear the world healing. I believe one day zombies will go back to being scary tales people use to trick children into eating their veggies.”

Shannon nodded.

“The night before the surge we talked about this... And decided it was time. I turned thirty-three last month and the colony is stable. I think I could take some time to lay low without letting people down...”

“You never let anybody down.”

“You know what I mean...”

“And you can count on us.”

“I know. I can already imagine you guys helping us out. Aunt Shannon will teach the baby all the cool science stuff –”

“Aunt Shannon? I like the sound of that!”

“– and Uncle Eli will craft a tiny bow and arrow and make little charts and our baby will have the neatest crib around... And we’ll keep an eye on cool aunt Angel, so she won’t teach them how to blow things up before they are old enough... Like five or six.”

They both chuckled, and Shannon smiled thoughtfully.

“And May will be the greatest big sister...”

“She will.”

“Have you told her?”

Malia’s eyes squinted, and Shannon couldn’t tell if it was from physical pain or stirred by her question.

“We better wait till we’re sure... I don’t want to hype her and then... let her down again. She’s not being herself since Feather passed away...”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything about the rates...”

“Hey! I’m a newbie in this whole pregnancy thing... and there ain’t a lot of reliable sources... so I need you to be honest with me. Promise?”

Malia offered the pinkie finger and Shannon linked hers.

“Always.”

The soft clink of the small device when it fell into the metallic tray marked the beginning of a new unfamiliar chapter of her life. But Malia hoped it would be the best yet.

Lying on the grass side by side, Troy and May were in identical positions: arms bent, hands pillowing their heads, long legs stretched, and eyes focused on the blue sky above.

When did they become so alike?

Faces bathed by the soft golden glow, their eyes followed the clouds turning shades of orange and pink; fingers pointing while they probably guessed the forms, they resembled, a game the trio often plays together.

Like the apple trees in the new orchard, may grew taller last spring. The roundness of her face, immortalized in the drawing Malia hung on their cabin wall, had disappeared, and her voice lost the honeyed childlike melody, becoming hoarser. She’s growing up into a sweet troublemaker teen that still hangs with her adoptive parents, loves storytelling – Troy has most of her favorite tales and anecdotes –, gets excited with little things like new blooms each spring, making flower crowns and riding horses, but also carries too many scars in her young soul but somehow she never lets the sadness drown the happiness glowing in her eyes.

With a spring on her step, Malia crossed the remaining distance and knelt in the small gap between them. First, she kissed the girl’s forehead, who smiled, then turned around to gently press a kiss to Troy’s shapely lips. However, the man had other plans. Encircling her shoulders with his free arm, he pulled her down, turning the sweet gentle peck into a passionate kiss. Maybe too passionate to be given in public. But he always has a little trouble following etiquette when it comes to Malia.

“Gross!” May cried and covered her eyes with one arm. “Get a room!”

“Why is she sounding like Angel?” Malia whispered.

“I have asked myself the same. It’s either one of those Freaky Friday’s situation and we’re parenting a thirty-year-old woman with an unhealthy kink of blowing stuff up or this is a bad case of teenager...”

“Hey! I can hear you!”

“Good! It means your hearing is fine. Keep it like that!”

They laughed and May rolled her eyes for good measure, but a small barely there smile pulled at the corners of her lips. A hint the little girl still lives inside the 5’3 teenager.

“So...” Troy’s gaze and undivided interest returned to Malia. “Did you do it? Is it gone?”

Malia pressed a finger to his lips and with a nod signalled May’s presence, and discreetly raised a thumb in a positive sign.

“Then what are we waiting for?” he asked already pulling himself up in a swift motion.

Despite knowing it was impossible to get pregnant this soon, Malia laughed at his excitement, and allowed him to hold he held her hands to pull her up. Nobody knows when the apparently peaceful day can turn into a nightmare, and she shouldn’t pass the opportunity to just be happy, silly and hopeful – and let him fuck her brains out.

“Hey! Where are you going?” May cried, and they whirled around giggling.

“Getting a room!” Troy replied with a shit-eating grin.

“Eww! I’m a child! I don’t need to know that!”

“But you asked!”

“Can I stay with Angel and Luna tonight?”

“Sure, sweetie,” Malia said. “Don’t forget the rules!”

“Brush my teeth, keep it down and don’t blow things up – unless absolutely necessary.”

“Love you!” Troy and Malia cried back in unison and blew her a kiss.

Giggling like mischievous children , they darted towards the small cabin holding each other's hands.

While they sprinted through the field, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of honeysuckles blew through the taller grass blades creating green waves.

Life is good, Malia read in Troy’s eyes the same thought that crossed her mind.

Before the door closed behind them, Troy’s hot mouth was already on Malia’s neck, sucking on her skin.

“Eager much?”

“Don’t shame me for being a hundred percent devoted to a cause,” he whispered into her ear and nibbled at the earlobe. “Pants down.”

“So bossy.” She laughed while kicking the sneakers off her feet. His white t-shirt joined them on the floor.

“I’ll make you come and put a baby in your belly.”

His bare chest pressed against her back while his hands explored his favorite curves on her body.

“Hey, careful,” she said while moving his hand away from the bandage on her lower abdomen and up to the curve of one breast.

“Sorry,” he breathed and promptly used said hand to grab her breast over her clothes, while the other fiddled with the buttons of her denim pants. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No worries. I’ll be patient,” he whispered against her neck. “We won’t leave that room until there’s a baby in the oven.”

“Don’t you dare!” She crashed her lips to his in a passionate kiss and pushed him towards the bedroom.

While they blindly moved together, she pulled away from the kiss momentarily. “Shannon said we have to be patient. It can take a while for my body to be ready.”

“What?” she asked in shock, and he placed a hand over her stomach.

“This oven. Old World slang.”

“That’s creep.”

“I like the analogy.”

“Anyway. If I can get pregnant. Shannon will run some tests to be sure...”

He spun her and pressed her back against the wall. “Good luck to not end up like one of those corpses in the lab.” He chuckled pulling her t-shirt over her head, and kissed his way down her neck to the valley between her breasts.

“Don’t think for a moment she won’t poke you too.”

“Why?” He raised his face and looked up. His eyebrows knitted together so closely, that scrunched his forehead. “Didn’t you tell her we’re doing this Old-World style?”

“I did, but she wants to help.”

“Well, she can always join us. I won’t kick her out of the bed...”

She glared and punched his bare shoulder.

“Hey! What’s that for?”

“For being the wrong kind of horny now!”

“It’s a joke!” he chuckled. Hands on the curve of her lower back, he pulled her close, but she playfully shoved him away. Pretending not to be eager to see the rest of his clothes joining the growing pile of discarded ones on the floor. “You love my horniness. It’s my best feature!”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

It’s so not.

There’s so much she loves about him, but she won’t inflate his ego any more.

“Are you forgetting I was the one who suggested being exclusive?”

“You were jealous of how many people worshipped me...”

“I’m so not the possessive type –” He moved closer and in one swift motion his hands slid inside her jeans and underneath her panties and firmly palmed her ass. Malia shivered and let him pull her closer again to whisper in her ear. “– And you know you are the one and only for me, Maly.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you.”

“Do you now?” she teased.

“When have I not?” He kissed one cheek and then the other. “I loved you before I knew what love was...”

She inhaled deeply and allowed his lips to trace the curve of her neck, and her heart fluttered.

Malia and Troy aren’t fluent in feelings. They won’t compose songs or deliver long speeches about their undying love. But whenever they do talk about their feelings, they mean it. They mean everything to each other.

“I love you too,” she whispered against his black hair, while holding him tighter. Her heart so full of love. “Let’s make some cute babies!”

“Don’t ask me twice,” he said pulling her legs up to encircle his bare waist, and kicked the door closed. “In the blink of an eye, we’ll have a trio of loud kids quacking around our home!”

He laughed and stared at her smiling but unknowingly expression while he carried her to the bed.

“Seriously?”

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t believe you still didn’t get it.”

“Can I hold him now?” May’s voice came as the softest whisper as if scared not only to wake up the baby but disturb the order of the entire universe. “Please?”

Her pleading drew Malia’s attention away from the baby in her arms.

For the past several minutes she has been practically hypnotized by him quietly sleeping in her arms, oblivious to the two sitting on the bed at each of her sides, welcoming the baby into their little loving awkward family. There were so many emotions in her eyes and face that shone despite the weak flame from the only small lamp Troy put beside the bed.

Nodding, Malia passed the baby to the eager arms and helped May hold him steadily.

She didn’t need to tell her to be gentle, because she touched him as one of the delicate seedlings she cultivates. Her fingers ran through the black and thick hair that looks almost like a wig on the top of his little head, and gently stroked the side of his face, drawing them along his chubby cheeks. His lips drew together like he was ready to have another go at his mother’s breasts for another dose of milk, but his eyes remained closed shut, and a serene expression returned to his face as he continues to sleep.

Malia and Troy shared an affectionate look and he leaned his head on her shoulder and rested his hand over hers.

“You should be resting. Doc’s orders,” Troy whispered. “I can take him to the crib and keep an eye on him.”

“I’ll help,” May offered.

“Five more minutes.”

“You said that half an hour ago...”

“How do you expect me to sleep now that he’s finally here?”

“You’ll regret it when you’re low batt and a parade of visitors come to meet the baby first thing in the morning...”

“Another reason I can’t sleep: we have to name him.”

“What about Huey?” Troy could barely stifle his laughter with the back of his hand.

“We’re not naming our son after a cartoon duck!” Malia snorted, and this was definitely the reaction he was expecting all-along.

“Took your sweet time to figure it out!”

“Not all of us are obsessed with Old World’s stuff..."

“That’s called culture.”

May shushed them and they smiled.

“Any suggestion?” Malia whispered.

“I like Cedar,” May said, “and Knox.”

“Knox,” he said and hummed in consideration. “I like it. But don’t you think he looks like a Neo?”

“Neo means new,” May said softly, “And he is the first baby to be born in the new colony. Very symbolic.”

“And it’s the name of that cool guy with shades who got out of the Matrix to save the world.”

“Hero name. Rad!”

“Isn’t it too much pressure to a little baby?” Malia pondered.

“Our baby is destined to do great things,” he said softly. “Also, it’ a short name. If he turns out to be dumb, he won’t have a problem learning it.”

“Man! That’s so mean!” Malia elbowed him. “How can you say that about our baby?”

Laughing, he held her hand. “It’s a joke. How can he not be awesome if you made him yourself?”

“We made him.”

She leaned her head over his, and asked softly, “Do we all agree with Neo?”

“It’s not as great as Cedar... But I like it.”

Birds chirped and through the window shutters warm spots of sunrise peppered the opposite wall.

Breathing quietly in her sleep, May’s long dishevelled hair had fallen over and covered her face. Malia’s fingers pulled them back and after pressing the softest kiss to her temple, she rolled over, getting out of the bed. The painkillers were wearing off and she desperately needed to pee. After taking care of both needs, she found the crib empty.

In the other room, where they do basically every other activity that is not sleeping – and making cute babies –, Troy was sitting on the improvised couch which was basically an old mattress over a wooden structure covered with throwing pillows and a nice quilted blanket she and Eli made on their spare time two winters ago.

Eyes closed, Troy covered his shoulders with the blanket and held the sleeping baby against his chest.

Malia leaned against the wall and smiled at the scene.

“Why are you up?” he asked without opening his eyes. “I got it covered.”

“I know. I was just appreciating the view. Never imagined you could look hotter,” she teased.

The man’s eyes fluttered open, and his smirk turned into a full grin, “Haven’t you heard? Being an awesome father is the new sexy.”

“Definitely,” she said sitting beside him carefully to not disturb the baby’s rest.

“Have you got any sleep?”

“Sleep is overrated.”

Troy rested his head against hers, and asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted. Sore. Happy. Like a badass for delivering this awesome baby... 75% amazing, 24% tired and 1% terrified it’s a dream...”

“It’s 100% real.”

“Hmmm... That is exactly what Dream Troy would say...”

He chuckled and raised his head to meet her eyes.

“What can Real Troy do to convince you it’s all true?”

Malia smiled, and her gaze moved from his affectionate brown eyes to the baby in his arms, lightly wheezing in his sleep. It has just been a few hours, but her heart is so full of love for this child and this urge to protect him. How can it be so?

“Real Troy can give my beautiful baby back so I can smell his head again... and nurse him. That would be great.”

Smiling, Troy leaned and let Malia carefully take Neo from his arms. The baby yawned and his eyelashes fluttered but his eyes remained closed. Malia sniffed the top of his head and smiled, before offering one nipple that was readily taken by an eager and tiny toothless mouth.

“Anything else, mama bear?”

“You can kiss me and get some sleep.”

Troy kissed her lips but didn’t go to bed. He fell asleep leaning over her shoulder, and Malia closed her eyes too, enjoying this happiness.

Sometimes this world isn't shitty, sometimes life is good. Just like now.

#wake the dead #troy hassan #troy hassan x mc #shannon fox #choices fanfic #tw: pregnancy #tw: minor character death #tw: zombies

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