Ultrasound – First Checkup
―――――――――――――――――――――
The waiting room was too quiet.
Muted beiges. Soft instrumental music that sounded like it belonged in an elevator—or a spa designed to make you forget you were panicking. Nova sat between Thea and a fake plant that smelled vaguely of lemon cleaner. Her knees bounced restlessly. Her fingers fidgeted in her lap. Her hoodie sleeves were tugged over her knuckles even though it wasn't cold.
Thea, sprawled casually beside her, looked as composed as ever—phone in one hand, other hand casually resting against Nova's thigh. But even Thea's thumb kept flicking back and forth on the lock screen. Not really reading anything. Just... waiting.
"This place is too quiet," Nova muttered.
"I know. It's got serious 'this is where your tax dollars go to die' energy."
Nova let out a tiny huff. Almost a laugh. But not quite.
Thea bumped her shoulder gently. "You okay?"
Nova's eyes flicked to the receptionist's desk. Then the hallway. Then back to her hands.
"Define okay."
"Breathing. Not mid-werewolf panic. Still sitting beside me."
Nova rolled her eyes. "Barely."
Thea dropped her voice. "Seriously, though. What's going through your head?"
Nova hesitated, chewing her bottom lip.
"What if it's not okay?" she whispered. "What if it's already... not alive?"
Thea didn't flinch. Didn't try to dodge the fear. She turned, took Nova's hand in both of hers, and leaned in.
"Then we'll deal with it together. But you're six weeks. That's early. It doesn't mean something's wrong if we don't hear anything yet."
Nova nodded, still looking unconvinced.
"What if it's in the wrong place? What if it's outside the uterus or something?"
"Then they'll catch it. And they'll take care of you. And I'll be there every second."
A pause. Nova looked down at their joined hands. Her fingers shook slightly.
"You don't have to pretend you're not freaked out too."
Thea tilted her head. "Oh, I'm totally freaked out. I just hide it better."
Nova smiled weakly.
"You know," Thea said, voice softer, "you've been ridiculously brave. Coming here. Letting my mom drag us to a doctor like we're just... normal people."
Nova snorted. "Yeah. Real normal. Just your average teenage True Alpha trying not to puke on the office carpet."
"You forgot the part where you've got a hot girlfriend who's in way over her head but still shows up anyway."
Nova looked up, eyes glassy. "You are kinda hot."
Thea winked. "You're not too bad yourself, wolf girl."
Nova leaned into her. "Don't leave me in there."
"I'm gonna be so close, they'll have to peel me off the table with a crowbar."
They sat like that for a moment—wrapped in tension and tired jokes and something that almost felt like safety.
Then the nurse stepped through the door and flipped a page on her clipboard.
"Nova Hale?"
Nova's breath caught.
Thea was already standing.
"We're coming," she said.
Nova took her hand. Held on tight.
―――――――――――――――――――――
They followed the nurse down a hallway that smelled like fresh paint and lavender-scented sanitizer. Thea kept her hand firm in Nova's, shoulders squared like she was ready to punch a nurse if needed.
They were led into an exam room—dimly lit, cool-toned, and quiet. A monitor glowed softly in the corner. A white-coated OB smiled at them politely.
And standing near the counter, reviewing a chart with sharp eyes and composed posture, was Moira Queen.
"There you are," Moira said, turning toward them. "We've just finished reviewing the intake. Nothing invasive today—standard first ultrasound. We'll confirm gestational age and placement."
Nova stood frozen for a beat, then nodded.
Thea gave her hand a light squeeze.
The doctor offered a kind smile. "You're six weeks, correct?"
"Yeah, I think so." Nova said. Her voice didn't shake.
"We'll be using a transvaginal probe—just to get a clearer image this early. It shouldn't hurt, but it might be a little uncomfortable."
Nova turned her head, eyes already locking on Thea's.
"You're not leaving."
"Try and make me."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
Nova nodded.
Thea helped her onto the table. The paper crinkled. Her hands trembled.
She whispered, "Still scared."
"Then be scared with me," Thea murmured. "You are not alone."
The OB pulled on gloves. The machine blinked to life beside them.
Moira stayed near the back, hands folded, gaze unreadable.
And as the room quieted, Nova breathed in deep—finally believing, just for a moment, that maybe she wouldn't have to face this alone after all.
―――――――――――――――――――――
The gel was cold.
Nova winced as the probe was gently inserted. The OB guided it with practiced calm, watching the screen as the grayscale image began to flicker to life.
The room was quiet—too quiet.
Thea stood beside Nova, one hand gripping hers, the other curled lightly around her shoulder. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. Nova could feel her—close, steady, grounding.
The machine beeped softly.
Lines moved. The screen adjusted.
Then a small flicker appeared.
"There," the doctor said, her voice light but sure. "See that pulsing? That's the heartbeat."
Nova stared at the screen.
It looked like a smudge. A blur. Barely bigger than a jellybean.
But there it was.
A tiny, steady flicker.
Her breath hitched.
Thea leaned over her shoulder, eyes locked on the monitor.
"That's it?" she whispered.
"That's your baby," the doctor said. "Six weeks and one day. Heartbeat's strong."
Nova's eyes filled instantly.
"It's real," she whispered.
Thea let out a shaky laugh. "Of course it's real."
Moira stepped closer, arms crossed but face softer now. Even she looked slightly shaken.
Nova kept staring. "It's not just cells or just a test saying it anymore. It's... really our baby."
"It's alive," Thea echoed, her voice tight.
The OB tapped keys, measuring the flicker, printing a few snapshots.
"Would you like to hear it?"
Nova blinked. "Hear it?"
Thea squeezed her hand.
The doctor adjusted the monitor and a moment later—
Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.
The sound filled the room. Soft but sure. Like a tiny drum inside a tunnel.
Nova choked on a sob.
"That's them," Thea whispered. "That's our kid."
Moira's voice came low from behind them. "That sound changes everything."
The OB printed the image, handed it to Thea.
Thea stared at the glossy black-and-white photo like it was made of gold.
"You okay?" she whispered to Nova.
Nova nodded slowly, tears streaking silently down her cheeks.
"I think I am now."
She turned her head to look at Thea.
"We're really doing this."
Thea leaned down, brushing a kiss against her forehead.
"We already are."
―――――――――――――――――――――
First Time, First Risks
―――――――――――――――――――――
Nova sat upright again, her hoodie zipped halfway, a faint line of gel still cooling against her lower belly. The ultrasound was over, but the pounding of her heart hadn't stopped.
Thea was still holding her hand.
The OB—Dr. Simmons—settled into her chair with a clipboard and warm but clinical calm.
"Alright," she said gently. "Now that we've confirmed the pregnancy and heard the heartbeat, we'll go over your full intake today. You're about six weeks along, which makes this a perfect time for your first full visit."
Nova swallowed hard. "Okay."
"I know it's a lot of information," Dr. Simmons added, her smile kind but direct, "but I promise I'll walk you through everything, step by step."
Thea nodded beside her. "She's not doing it alone."
The doctor glanced at her, eyebrows slightly raised at the protectiveness in her tone, but didn't question it. She flipped to a fresh page.
"Let's begin with your medical history. Nova, have you had any major illnesses, surgeries, or long-term conditions I should be aware of?"
Nova hesitated. "I, um... I don't think so. I was in the hospital after a fire when I was a kid. Burns. But I've healed. No medications now."
Dr. Simmons made a note. "And your cycles? Regular? When was your last period before the positive test?"
"Pretty regular," Nova said. "Last one was... maybe five weeks ago?"
"Sounds consistent with your scan," the doctor said. "Now, any family history of genetic conditions? Things like cystic fibrosis, sickle cell, Tay-Sachs?"
Nova didn't hesitate this time. Her voice was steady.
"No. Nothing like that."
Dr. Simmons glanced up. "You're certain?"
Nova nodded.
"My birth family didn't get sick. Not in that way."
She didn't elaborate. Didn't need to.
And Thea, who knew exactly what she meant, just squeezed her hand silently.
Dr. Simmons nodded professionally. "We'll flag that as unknown, but we can offer optional genetic screening if you'd like more clarity."
She turned to Moira, who had taken a seat behind them but said nothing so far—just watched. Not cold. Just observant.
"Any substance use?"
Nova shook her head quickly. "No. Nothing."
Dr. Simmons turned the page. "Great. I'll still need to run a full panel. That includes checking your blood type, Rh factor, rubella immunity, HIV, hepatitis, syphilis, and a few others."
Nova nodded slowly. "Okay."
"We'll also screen for chlamydia and gonorrhea during your pelvic exam today, and you'll get a Pap smear. It's not comfortable, but it's quick."
Nova looked at Thea again, visibly anxious. Thea laced their fingers tighter.
"I've got you," she whispered.
―――――――――――――――――――――
❖ POV SHIFT – THEA ❖
Thea watched Nova with a quiet, coiled tension.
She'd been holding it together—barely—but Thea could see the cracks forming. Not because Nova was weak, but because the weight she carried was finally getting heavy enough to show.
And Thea?
She was furious.
Not at Nova. Never at Nova.
But at the clinical coldness of it all. The forms. The labs. The statistics.
They were talking about their baby like it was a math problem.
"So what happens now?" she asked, keeping her voice steady but clipped.
Dr. Simmons looked up from her tablet. "We'll wait for bloodwork results, and in a couple of weeks, we'll schedule a more detailed scan. Genetic screening is optional—"
"We're doing it," Thea cut in. "I want to know everything."
Nova's hand twitched in hers, but she didn't pull away.
Moira—silent until now—shifted in her chair. "Thea..."
Thea didn't look at her. She was still watching the doctor.
"This isn't a teen soap opera. I don't care how old I am. I'm ready for this. We're ready." She turned to Nova, softer now. "Right?"
Nova hesitated.
Then:
"I don't know if I'm ready. But I trust you."
It hit Thea like a punch—because trust like that? It was rare. And raw. And terrifying.
She reached up and cupped Nova's cheek.
"I'll earn it. Every damn day."
Dr. Simmons gave a nod and softened her tone. "Then we'll take it one step at a time. We'll keep you both safe."
Nova finally let out a shaky breath.
And Thea?
She realized it wasn't just about protecting Nova anymore.
It was about helping her believe she didn't have to run and making sure Nova always knows that she has a place to return to.
―――――――――――――――――――――
✦ NEXT STEPS ✦
Bloodwork.
Pap smear.
First trimester pamphlets.
A printed appointment schedule through week 20.
Nova tucked them all into the folder the nurse gave her, her fingers trembling slightly around the glossy paper. But it wasn't the folder she couldn't stop looking at.
It was the ultrasound photo—faint and grainy, barely more than a blur.
But it was theirs.
And she clutched it like a lifeline.
Thea didn't let go of her hand.
Not even once.
❖ In the Town Car ❖
The rain had slowed by the time they slid into the back of the Queen family town car. The streets of Starling were quiet—wet and silver with reflected light. The engine purred low as the driver pulled into traffic.
Nova curled against Thea's side immediately, half-buried under Thea's jacket, the folder tucked between them. She was exhausted. Not physically—though her limbs felt heavy—but from the sheer weight of it all.
Doctor visits. Blood tests. So many questions.
And still, somehow, Thea had been her anchor the entire time. Never flinched. Never pulled away.
Nova closed her eyes and whispered against Thea's neck. "Thank you... for being by my side the entire time."
Thea kissed the crown of her head.
"You don't have to thank me. You're mine."
Nova's heart kicked. Every time Thea said that—so easily, so fully—it settled something in her chest.
They rode in silence for a while. Moira sat across from them, flipping through the clinic paperwork with the quiet intensity of someone who had once run campaigns, charities, and international press conferences—and now found herself reviewing prenatal material for her teenage daughter and her daughter's wolf-girlfriend.
Nova peeked at her warily.
But Moira just said, without even looking up: "You handled yourself well in there, Nova."
Nova blinked. "I—I didn't say much."
Moira looked up then.
"You didn't need to. You showed up. You answered honestly. You let people help you. That takes more strength than you realize."
Nova flushed, half-hiding her face against Thea's collarbone.
❖ Back at Queen Mansion ❖
– Early Evening
The town car had barely pulled into the drive before Nova was climbing out, still holding tight to that paper-thin image of a six-week-old maybe-baby. Thea followed closely, protective, steady, her hand warm on Nova's back.
Moira didn't press them for conversation. She just followed behind, quiet but present, her heels clicking softly through the marble foyer as the storm outside finally broke into something gentle—just a soft drizzle now, like the city itself was breathing again.
Upstairs, Nova collapsed onto Thea's bed. Not from exhaustion, but something heavier. She didn't cry. Just curled in on herself, her knees drawn up, the ultrasound photo still clutched to her chest.
Thea kicked off her boots and joined her without a word. She pulled Nova into her side, tucking the girl's damp curls beneath her chin.
"You did good today," she whispered.
Nova didn't speak for a while. Then, quietly—
"Do you still mean it?"
Thea blinked. "Mean what?"
"That we're keeping the baby."
Thea didn't hesitate.
"Yeah. I do. No one else gets to decide that for us. Not the press. Not the city. Not even your fear."
Nova swallowed hard. "You sound sure."
"I am sure."
Nova let out a breath that wasn't quite relief, but close. Her fingers tangled with Thea's.
"I trust you."
"You should." Thea kissed the top of her head. "I'm yours. That's permanent."
"That's our kid," Nova whispered.
Thea nodded. "Yeah. Our chaos demon."
Nova huffed a laugh. "They don't even have fingers yet."
"Still a chaos demon."
They fell into silence again, but this time it wasn't heavy. It was the quiet that follows a storm—the kind that settles in your bones and whispers, you made it through that one.
Then Moira stepped in from the hallway.
She didn't look like a mother about to lay down rules or a politician delivering a speech. She looked tired. Honest. And just... there.
She looked between them on the bed. Not judging. Not pitying. Just... watching.
"I'm proud of you both," she said softly.
"You didn't run," she said simply.
Thea glanced up. "Why would I?"
Moira's voice was low, almost amused. "Because most girls your age would. You had a reputation, Thea. For clubs. For pills. For never staying still. And now... look at you."
But Moira kept going.
"This wasn't the future I had mapped out. Not for Thea. Not for anyone. But that doesn't mean it's not a future worth choosing."
Nova started to sit up, but Moira raised a hand.
"Don't. That wasn't an accusation. That was an observation. You've changed."
Thea laced her fingers tighter with Nova's.
"She changed me," Thea said simply. "I didn't care about anything before she came here. Not really. Now? I care about everything."
Moira nodded slowly. "Good. Then you're exactly where you're meant to be."
She paused, then tilted her head toward Nova.
She looked back at the girl on the couch, her voice softening.
"Nova made me better. Not perfect. Just... better."
Moira smiled faintly. "I noticed."
She turned to Nova then, crossing the room slowly. Her expression wasn't pitying—it was strong, steady.
"You know, some things don't need to be said out loud to be understood. And not all family secrets are dangerous—some are just... different."
Nova's eyes flicked up. Her pulse quickened.
"You knew," she said quietly.
Moira gave a small smile. "Let's just say I was briefed. Thoroughly. And I'm not the type to be shaken by sharp teeth or glowing eyes."
Nova's voice softened. "Well, just so you know... I told Thea everything. After we found out I was pregnant. I didn't want to lie to her."
Moira's eyes flicked to her daughter. "And you stayed?"
Thea smirked. "She's mine. No claws or red eyes are gonna scare me off."
Moira exhaled and crossed to the edge of the bed. She didn't sit, just rested her fingers on the bedframe—light but grounding.
"You're not alone in this. Either of you. I'm not here to control your choices. I'm here to help you survive them."
Nova's eyes went glassy.
Thea squeezed her hand.
"Thank you," Nova whispered.
Moira nodded once. "Get some sleep. We've got a long journey ahead."
Nova swallowed, tears stinging the corners of her eyes.
Moira bent slightly, resting a hand on her shoulder.
"I don't care if you're a werewolf. Or scared. Or figuring it out as you go. You're family now. And I protect my family."
That broke something open in Nova.
She stood and, to everyone's surprise—including her own—hugged Moira.
Not awkward. Not stiff.
Just... real.
Moira returned it without hesitation.
Thea watched them quietly, arms crossed, eyes softer than she wanted anyone to see.
They didn't speak for a while after Moira left.
Just lay there, together. Tired. Holding the future in their hands—one sonogram photo and a whole lot of unknowns.
Thea kissed Nova's shoulder.
"You're not broken," she murmured again.
Nova's voice was almost too soft to hear.
"Neither are you."
And for the first time since the test turned positive, the room felt like something close to safe.
Later that night, Nova lay in bed beside Thea, curled under the blankets, the ultrasound photo tucked into her sketchbook now.
"You really think we're gonna be okay?" Nova asked, voice barely audible.
Thea didn't answer with words.
She just held her tighter.
And didn't let go.