You are twenty, and every bone in your body hurts. Your muscles are sore and aching, you're having trouble moving your right arm to its full extent and sometimes, when you're moving too fast, your knees will make a sickening, crunching sound that will make you go a little dizzy.
You are twenty, and everything hurts it hurts it hurts. Your teeth and your skin and your ears and your nails. You are limping a little, and there are a hundred little cuts and bruises that hurt even when you're not touching them or exerting yourself.
(You are twenty, and everything hurts).
Dina makes her wounds seem easy. Her face is cut and swollen and scattered with different slashes and sometimes they are bleeding. You can already tell where new scars are going to form on her forehead and you make a point of kissing her with chapped lips and aching lips and painful jabs at your jaws and tongue and nose.
Dina makes her wounds look like they don't hurt. She is smiling (a painful, hunted smiles that slowly grow into easy young ones) and she hugs Jesse's parents and she touches her growing belly and late at night she's whispering sweet nothings in your ear and
(You almost believe her).
You know how deep run her wounds and she can't fool you with kisses and reassuring touches (not when you're sharing a bed).
Dina's sleep, once so peaceful, is now disturbed and troubled and frightening. She moans and pants and cries in her sleep. She turns and pushes and fights, facing demons and people and soldiers. You don't ask about her nightmares, trying your best not to open these bleeding cuts, not to make her relive those dark memories. Instead, you just hug her tight and cuddle her close, hoping your presence will somehow pry away whatever it is hunting her late at night.
//
The farm is easy enough to maintain and you discover just how much you like this kind of work. It's the kind you've never done before and you like it. You like the sting in your arms and your lower back. You like the horrible smell of the sheep and the sounds of the cows. You're not very useful in the mornings, but Dina is as much of a morning person as you are, so you make it work on the late hours, just before midday.
Dina is having no trouble bossing you around and you play along. When her stare becomes steel-blade determination and ferocious and hard, you duck your head and try your best not to provoke her. When she smiles easy and laughs funny and dances free and you play your guitar and she sings along with the recordings, even though she can't carry a tune to save her own life.
Jesse's parents visit, and you can't find the courage to face them, so you start going to long hunting trips. You wake up early and when the sun is setting, you're carrying back home a huge stack of rabbits and birds and fish, and Jesse's parents are already gone and Dina looks somehow smaller.
"I'm sorry I'm such a coward." You tell her one night and she looks at you with galaxies in her dark troubled eyes, her brows creased and she doesn't look as happy as she claims to be.
She shakes her head and you can see, in the dim light of the moon that's snicking through the window that she is trembling.
"It's hard for me, too." She says simply.
"I know. I'm sorry. I love you".
Dina's body shaking so hard you're scared she might break. Her teeth are chattering but she makes no move. You hug her then, gentle and caring, full of love and full of regret and full of hope.
"I'm glad you're here," Dina says.
When you touch her, she melts into you, whispering 'I love you. I love you. I love you too' and this is a familiar territory. You've touched her countless times since you've been back. You know how to move your hands, and where to kiss her to make her sigh. Dina's hands clutch your shoulders and her mouth is seeking yours and it's easy to stop thinking altogether when she pulls your shirt off and touches you, soft and solid and present.
//
Dina is huge. She moves funny, bending a little to the side, a little back. You help her sit and help her stand and help her put on her pants and boots and bring her water and snacks late at night because she cannot be bothered going up and down the stairs and you're more than happy to be moving.
You are eager and reluctant and terrified. You've never cared for anyone before. Once, you made sure Joel was safe and warm and cared for, but Joel was a grown man and what you're about to meet, in few weeks time, is nothing like a man and everything like terror and you don't know if your bloody bloody violent hands can hold something so pure and so small and so fragile as a newborn baby.
Dina says you can you can you can and you believe her.
You live in a constant state of holding your breath. You're afraid to exhale too loudly for fear of breathing out the baby out of her too soon and then
(What the hell are you gonna do, then?)
You sit with Dina on the bed and you run around the house, bumping into things and breathing unevenly. Dina laughs and laughs and laughs at you.
"It's okay." She tells you over and over and over. "It's okay, babe. It's okay".
You spend too much time being anxious and you read books about pregnancy and books about babies and everything is scary and strange and foreign.
You hold Dina's hand.
"I kinda wish I could have seen the baby on a monitor. I would love to know if it's a she-peanut or a he-peanut." Dina says with a smile and you raise your eyebrows.
"It's obviously a he-potato." You tell her with more confidence than you feel.
Dina lets out a huge laugh and it makes you smile, almost carefree. Almost unafraid.
"How can you tell?"
"Well…" you scratch the back of your head. "I mean…"
Dina is looking at you with galaxies in her eyes and she is so so so beautiful. "You are such a dork".
(You watch her when she smiles and you watch her when she leans close and you watch her when she kisses you, deep and lovely and thankful).
//
You're lying in bed with your head propped on your arm. Dina is on her side, the belly a peninsula, facing you. You are wiped out after a long day of farm-work, but Dina is exhausted and you do your best not to show her just how ready you are to call it a night.
Dina smiles at you, nervously.
"What?" you ask with a similar nervous smile.
"Jacob." She says and you realise what she's doing. You duck your head and try not to cry with happiness.
"I mean… that could work".
"It's my father's name".
You think for a moment before saying, "I never knew mine".
She bites her lower lip. "What your mother was called?" she asks, tentatively.
You take a deep breath and will your voice to be steady. "Anna." You reply.
Dina makes a face that makes you laugh. "Not the first name I would think about for a boy".
"It's certainly an unusual name." You manage to say it with a straight face and then both of you laugh.
"I wanted something that starts with a 'J'," she says it carefully like it might set you off. "I mean... for Jesse".
You nod and smile gently. You're still having trouble with how easy it is for her to talk about him.
There's a moment of silence and then you say, "Is there a male equivalent for 'Talia'?"
"Tal".
"For real?"
"Hmm".
You worry your bottom lip between your teeth. "Than why not 'Jesse'?" you try and make it sound as offhanded and you can but you notice the small change in Dina's face.
You reach over and smooth your thumb over the little wrinkle between her eyebrows. Her skin is smooth and warm and you love her so much your chest feels too small for your heart.
"Jesse is a good name." You say.
Dina pushes her hair behind her. "I want you to like it".
"I like it".
"I mean, I want you to be able to say it. I want you to like saying it. I want you to be part of it. You're going to be part of this baby's life. I want you to…" she can't finish the sentence and all of a sudden you are overwhelmed by it all. Your feelings are swirling in your stomach, raising the small hairs on your arms. Your mouth feels dry.
"Really?" you sound like an idiot and you don't care.
"Of course".
"Thank you." You say and lean in and kiss her. Her mouth feels hot against your lips.
"Ellie," she says it like a breath.
You turn her gently on her back. The baby stirs. You can see it through the flesh of her belly. You slide your hands under her shirt, run them slowly over her taut stomach. The baby kicks and your hands are roaming, finding their way across familiar and unfamiliar terrain.
"Dina." You say, softly.
You are pulling her underwear down her legs and over her ankles. You toss it off the bed and look at Dina. She smiles, happy, and content.
"Careful." She tells you.
"Very careful," you agree and strip off your own clothes.
You feel immense and you bend over her from behind, move over her, like an explorer mapping her skin with your fingers and tongue.
"Slowly, slowly…" Dina singsongs, afraid.
"I will always keep you safe, potato… I will never let anything bad happen to you… I will always keep you and mama safe…" you are whispering to her belly as you enter her with two fingers.
"Yes." Dina reply.
Your eyes are closed and you singing something you cannot remember later. It's soft and it's loving and it's both for Dina and the baby.
"Just… so," and then. "Like this. Yes. Like this".
//
"Jesse," Dina whispers and there are tears in her eyes. "My little JJ".
You lost control over your muscles and you can't stop smiling. Tears streaming your face, endless pools of happiness, and fright. You look at the small human in Dina's protecting arms and kneel beside the bed.
"He's perfect." You say. You can feel your heart stretching. It makes a weird sound, like ripping, and suddenly it's beating two different rhythms. One for Dina, a strong and steady rhythm of protect and attack and love and love and love. The other is smaller but growing stronger by the minute. It's full of blood and gentle gore and blind baby eyes.
JJ is blowing bubbles from his tiny lips and falls asleep against Dina's breasts. He's a small warm soft bag of skin and fluids against your palm, and you are so so so in love.
"Hey, junior." You whisper and Dina's eyebrows shot up and her eyes grow bigger.
"It's not a 'J' for junior." She tells you, a little surprised and a little scared and a lot alert. JJ sticks his tongue a tiny bit and yawns.
"You said – " you begin to explain, feeling like somehow you fucked up big time, but Dina is cutting in and her hand is grabbing your shirt, by the shoulder and there are tears welling in her eyes and suddenly it's all too much and not enough and you're scared of what she's about to say and you can't wait for her to say it.
"He's J for Joel." She says and (you can't do anything to stop the loud sob that rips through your chest).