Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lauren Bloom had and has always been pro-choice.

She was the doctor who handed the forms over without hesitation, knowing it was not her place to judge, knowing that every person’s circumstances were different. She was the doctor who nodded with understanding, offered comfort, and supported their decisions. She had always firmly believed that it was every person’s right to decide their own path, free from judgment and societal expectations. Lauren never saw herself as a mother. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want kids or that she didn’t think she could be a mother. She just didn’t picture it for herself. Maybe it was her chaotic childhood, maybe it was the addiction that always seemed to loom over her head like a dark cloud. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t something she had ever longed for or planned. In fact, she’d always been careful, diligent even, about ensuring she wouldn’t find herself in this kind of situation. But here she was, in the hospital bathroom, staring at a pregnancy test in her trembling hands.

She felt like a stranger in her own body. Her hands were shaking so badly that she had to grip the stick harder, her knuckles turning white as she fought to keep herself from falling apart completely. The hospital bathroom was sterile and cold, the overhead lights casting a harsh glow that seemed to make the moment feel even more surreal. Her breath came in shallow gasps, the walls closing in around her. 

Lauren tried to tell herself it wasn’t real, that this couldn’t be happening to her. But the test in her hand, the one she couldn’t bring herself to turn over, said otherwise. All it would take was one glance. One glance, and she’d know.

But she couldn’t. 

The fear was suffocating, and for the first time in her life, Lauren Bloom felt completely out of control. All the years she had spent making decisions for other people, guiding them through their most vulnerable moments, and now, here she was, unable to make a simple choice for herself. 

She felt the panic rising in her chest, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure it would burst through her ribs. Her vision blurred, the edges of her world becoming hazy as her mind raced through a hundred different scenarios. What if it was positive? What if she really was pregnant?

The thought sent a wave of nausea crashing over her, and she fought to steady herself, gripping the edge of the sink as she struggled to breathe. She wasn’t ready for this. She didn’t know how to be a mother. She didn’t know if she even wanted to be.

Her mind was spiraling, the questions and doubts consuming her. Her stomach twisted in knots, and before she knew it, she was calling out for the only person who could possibly help her make sense of it all.

“Helen!” 

Her voice cracked as she called out her best friend’s name, the sound echoing off the bathroom walls. She waited, her breath catching in her throat as the moments stretched on. For a second, she thought maybe Helen hadn’t heard her, maybe she was too far away or too busy to respond. But then, the door creaked open, and Helen Sharpe appeared in the doorway.

Helen’s eyes were full of concern the second she saw Lauren standing there, white-knuckled and pale, gripping the pregnancy test like it was a lifeline. She didn’t say anything at first, just closed the door behind her and moved closer, her presence alone enough to bring a small sense of calm to the chaos inside Lauren’s mind.

“Lauren,” Helen’s voice was soft, gentle, as if she were speaking to a scared child. “What’s going on?”

Lauren couldn’t find the words at first. Her throat felt tight, her chest heavy, and all she could do was hold out the test toward Helen, her hands still shaking uncontrollably.

Helen didn’t ask any more questions. She didn’t need to. She just took the test from Lauren’s trembling hands and looked at it, her face remaining carefully neutral as she read the result.

Positive.

Helen took a deep breath, her mind processing the gravity of what this meant for her best friend. She knew Lauren better than almost anyone. She knew the battles Lauren had faced, the demons she still fought every day. She knew how much Lauren had struggled to rebuild her life after addiction had nearly destroyed it. And now this.

Helen set the test aside and reached out to take Lauren’s hands in hers, squeezing them gently as she met her gaze.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she said softly, her voice steady and reassuring. “We’ll figure this out. Whatever you want to do, I’m here with you.”

Lauren let out a shaky breath, her eyes filling with tears that she had been fighting to hold back.

“I… I don’t know what to do, Helen,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t plan for this. I never even thought about it.”

Helen nodded, understanding the weight of Lauren’s words.

“I know,” she said, her voice calm but filled with empathy. “But you don’t have to figure it all out right now. Let’s just take it one step at a time.”

Lauren blinked back the tears, feeling a surge of gratitude for Helen’s steady presence. She had always been the person Lauren could lean on when things got tough. Helen was her rock, her anchor in the storm. And right now, she needed her more than ever.

“What if… what if I can’t do this?” Lauren asked, her voice breaking as the fear and uncertainty bubbled to the surface. “What if I’m not cut out to be a mother?”

Helen gave her hands another reassuring squeeze. 

“Lauren, I can’t tell you what the right choice is. But I do know that you’re stronger than you think you are. And whatever you decide, it’s your choice. You don’t have to be a mother if that’s not what you want. But if you do choose to have this baby, I know you’ll figure it out. You always do.”

Lauren shook her head, her mind still reeling.

“I’ve always been so sure about everything else,” she said, her voice filled with frustration. “Why can’t I be sure about this?”

Helen gave her a small, sympathetic smile.

“Because it’s not an easy decision,” she said gently. “It’s okay to feel unsure. It’s okay to be scared. But you don’t have to make this decision alone. I’m here, whatever you need.”

Lauren let out a shaky breath, the tears finally spilling over as she collapsed into Helen’s arms. Helen held her tightly, letting her cry, not saying anything, just being there. She knew there were no words that could fix this, no easy answers that would make everything better. But she could offer her support, her friendship, and her love, and for now, that would have to be enough.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, the weight of the decision looming over them but not suffocating them. Helen’s steady heartbeat was a reminder that no matter what Lauren decided, she wouldn’t be facing it alone.

Eventually, Lauren pulled back, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket.

“I don’t even know where to start,” she admitted, her voice hoarse from crying.

Helen smiled softly.

“You don’t have to know right now,” she said. “We’ll take it one step at a time. The first step is just to breathe.”

Lauren let out a shaky laugh, feeling a little lighter with Helen by her side.

“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Breathe.”

Helen nodded, smiling warmly as she squeezed Lauren’s hand again.

“Good. Now, let’s get out of this bathroom, and we’ll figure out the rest together.”

Lauren nodded, feeling the weight in her chest start to lift, just a little. She wasn’t okay yet, and she knew this was only the beginning of a long, difficult journey. But with Helen by her side, she felt like maybe, just maybe, she could handle whatever came next.

They left the bathroom together, Helen keeping a steady arm around Lauren’s shoulders, guiding her back into the hospital’s busy hallways. The chaos of the hospital felt like a distant hum now, muted by the storm still raging in Lauren’s mind.

But for the first time since she’d taken that pregnancy test, Lauren felt a small flicker of hope.

Chapter Text

The silence in Helen’s office was thick, almost oppressive. The air seemed heavy, pressing down on them both as they sat across from each other, not saying a word. The walls, usually covered with medical charts and notes, now felt bare, as though the enormity of what was happening between them had stripped the room of its usual clinical purpose. The quiet was deafening, each second dragging on longer than the last, but neither of them dared to break it. Not yet.

Helen sat in her chair, her hands resting gently on her lap, her eyes fixed on Lauren. Her expression was calm, but her mind was buzzing, running through everything they had just talked about. The pregnancy test, the uncertainty, the raw emotion Lauren had shown in the bathroom—it was a lot. And Helen didn’t want to push. She knew Lauren needed space to breathe, to think, to process everything.

Lauren sat across from her, staring at the floor, her elbows resting on her knees as she wrung her hands together. Her mind was miles away, but every now and then, she’d glance up at Helen, almost like she was searching for something. Reassurance, maybe. Or just the comfort of knowing she wasn’t alone in this.

Helen had seen Lauren in tough spots before—relapses, breakdowns, moments when she wasn’t sure if Lauren would make it through the other side. But this? This was different. This wasn’t just about Lauren anymore. This was about a life, a decision that could change everything. And Helen knew how hard it was for Lauren to even begin to wrap her head around that.

After what felt like an eternity, Lauren finally spoke. Her voice was so quiet that Helen almost missed it at first.

“It’s Floyd’s.”

The words hung in the air like a thick fog, their weight crashing down between them. Lauren didn’t move, didn’t lift her head. She just sat there, still staring at the floor, her hands now clutched tightly in her lap as if bracing herself for the impact of what she had just said.

Helen blinked, her brain trying to catch up with the revelation. Floyd. **Floyd**. The baby was Floyd’s. Her mind raced, piecing together the implications of what that meant.

She had no idea that Lauren and Floyd had been… involved. She had no clue that there was anything between them beyond the professional camaraderie they all shared at New Amsterdam. And now, Lauren was pregnant. And it was Floyd’s baby.

Helen opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She closed it again, swallowing the questions that were now swirling in her head. What had happened between them? How long had this been going on? Why didn’t she know?

But she stopped herself. This wasn’t about her. This was about Lauren. And right now, Lauren needed her to listen.

Lauren let out a shaky breath, finally lifting her head to meet Helen’s eyes. The vulnerability in her gaze was raw, almost painful to see.

“I didn’t plan this,” Lauren whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t even know what this… this thing between us is. We weren’t exactly… I don’t know. It just… happened.”

Helen nodded slowly, her mind still working to absorb the information. She stayed quiet, giving Lauren the space she needed to keep talking.

“We’ve been… hooking up, I guess,” Lauren continued, her voice a little stronger now, though still laced with uncertainty. “It wasn’t serious. At least, it didn’t start out that way. We didn’t talk about it. We didn’t define anything. We just… it was something we did, something we didn’t think too much about.”

Her words hung in the air again, and Helen could sense how much it cost Lauren to admit it, to open up like this. Lauren wasn’t the type to lay herself bare so easily. She always kept things close to the chest, locked away behind her tough exterior. But here she was, breaking down in front of Helen, no longer able to hide the confusion and fear she’d been carrying.

“I’m not even sure what we were,” Lauren added, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Still don’t. Maybe it was just a convenience thing for both of us. But now, with this… I don’t know how to feel.”

Helen leaned forward slightly, her voice gentle but firm. “Lauren, you don’t have to have all the answers right now. It’s okay not to know what this was or what it is. What matters is how you feel, what you want.”

Lauren looked at her, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “That’s just it, Helen. I don’t know what I want. I don’t even know if I can do this.” She paused, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I never pictured myself as a mother, but now? I just… I don’t know.”

Helen’s heart ached for her friend. She could see the conflict, the fear, the doubt swirling in Lauren’s mind. And now, knowing that Floyd was involved only made things more complicated. Floyd, who was steady and dependable, who had his own plans for the future. How would he react to this?

“I haven’t even told him,” Lauren said softly, almost as if reading Helen’s thoughts. “I don’t know how to. I mean, we’re barely even… together. How am I supposed to tell him I’m pregnant?”

Helen took a deep breath, considering her next words carefully. “You don’t have to do it alone, Lauren. You can talk to him when you’re ready. But remember, this is your decision. Whatever you choose to do, it has to be what’s right for you.”

Lauren let out another shaky breath, her gaze falling back to the floor. “I’m just scared, Helen. I’m scared that I’ll screw this up. I’ve never been good at the whole ‘relationships’ thing, and now… I don’t know if I can handle being a mother. What if I’m terrible at it? What if I mess this kid up before they even have a chance?”

Helen reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Lauren’s knee. “You’re not going to mess anything up. You’re not your parents. You’re not your past. You’ve been through hell, and you’ve come out stronger on the other side. That’s who you are, Lauren. And if you decide to be a mother, you’ll figure it out, just like you’ve figured everything else out.”

Lauren looked at her, her eyes filled with uncertainty, but there was a glimmer of hope in there, too—a small flicker of belief that maybe, just maybe, she could do this. That she wasn’t as broken as she thought she was.

“And if you decide that this isn’t the path for you,” Helen continued, her voice soft but steady, “that’s okay too. You have every right to make that choice. Whatever happens, I’ll be here. You’re not alone in this.”

Lauren closed her eyes for a moment, taking in Helen’s words, letting them sink in. When she opened them again, there was a quiet determination in her gaze.

“I guess I need to figure out what the hell Floyd and I even are before I can make any decisions,” Lauren said, her voice still shaky but a little steadier now. “I can’t avoid him forever.”

Helen nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “One step at a time, Lauren.”

Lauren let out a breath, her shoulders sagging as some of the tension began to release. She didn’t have all the answers yet. She didn’t know what the future held or what her next move would be. But for the first time since she had seen that test, she didn’t feel quite as alone in it all.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough for now.

Chapter Text

Lauren’s world started to slowly unravel, one thread at a time, after she found out she was pregnant. It was as if she had been dropped into some unfamiliar territory, without a map or even the faintest idea of how to navigate. The one thing she kept telling herself, over and over again, was that she would tell Floyd. She *needed* to tell Floyd. It was his child too, and whatever happened next, he deserved to know. She wasn’t sure what that would mean for their already complicated, undefined relationship, but she knew she couldn’t keep this a secret.

She hadn’t anticipated that Floyd would break things off before she got the chance to even have the conversation.

It happened one night after work. They were supposed to meet for dinner—a casual thing, just like everything else between them. They had been seeing each other for months now, in that blurry gray area between dating and just hooking up. There was no label on what they had, no solid foundation, but somehow, Lauren had convinced herself that if they talked about the baby, they could figure something out together.

She never expected Floyd to be the one to throw the first grenade.

She showed up at the restaurant, her nerves already frayed from weeks of agonizing over when the right moment would be. She spotted Floyd sitting at a table near the back, his expression calm, neutral. Too calm.

"Hey," she greeted him with a smile she had to force, sliding into the seat across from him. He gave her a small, polite nod but didn’t return the smile. A knot started to form in Lauren’s stomach. Something felt… off.

"You okay?" she asked, her voice careful.

Floyd shifted in his seat, glancing down at his hands before he finally met her eyes. "I think we need to talk."

The knot in Lauren’s stomach twisted tighter. This wasn’t the tone of someone who was about to dive into relationship conversations about a pregnancy. This was something else.

"Okay," she said slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Talk."

Floyd took a deep breath, as if gathering his thoughts, and then he spoke. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about what we’ve been doing, and I… I don’t think it’s going to work anymore, Lauren."

Lauren blinked, her heart immediately starting to pound in her chest. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he said quietly, "I think we should stop seeing each other. I just… I’ve realized this isn’t going where I thought it might, and I don’t think we’re on the same page.”

Lauren felt like the ground was being ripped out from under her. Her stomach lurched, and her brain raced to catch up to his words. “What do you mean, Floyd? What’s changed?”

Floyd sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before looking her dead in the eyes. "I want a future where I can have a family—Black kids, Lauren. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. I want my kids to grow up in a Black household, to have a strong sense of their culture and heritage. And I just… I can’t have that with you.”

The words hit Lauren like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath right out of her lungs. Her brain couldn’t process it at first, couldn’t quite register what he was saying. She had been prepared for a lot of things tonight—for difficult conversations, for uncertainty—but she hadn’t been prepared for this.

"Floyd," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "Are you seriously saying this now? I didn’t even know this was… I mean, why didn’t you talk to me about this before? Why are you just—"

"I know this feels like it’s coming out of nowhere," Floyd interrupted, his tone apologetic but firm. "And maybe it is, but I can’t ignore it. I’ve always wanted a Black family, and that’s something I realized I’m not willing to compromise on."

Lauren sat there, stunned, her heart racing in her chest. Her mind screamed at her to say something, anything, but she was frozen in place. Floyd’s words echoed in her head: *I want Black kids.* Not *kids with you*. Not *our kids*. Just… not with her.

Suddenly, the weight of her secret pregnancy felt like a lead ball in her chest, pressing down on her so hard she could barely breathe. She was carrying his child, and he had just told her that he couldn’t see a future with her because she wasn’t Black.

“You can’t be serious,” she finally whispered, her voice thick with disbelief and hurt. “You’ve been with me for months, and now, suddenly, you decide you want something else? You couldn’t talk to me about this before?”

Floyd’s eyes were soft, regretful, but resolute. "I didn’t know how to say it before. I didn’t realize it was this important to me until recently. I care about you, Lauren, I do. But this isn’t about us. It’s about what I need for my future, and I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you, but I have to be honest with myself."

Lauren stared at him, her mind a chaotic mess of emotions. The anger, the hurt, the confusion—it was all swirling inside her like a tornado, but beneath it all was the sickening realization that she hadn’t told him yet. She hadn’t told him about the baby.

She wanted to scream, to lash out at him for dropping this on her, for pulling the rug out from under her just when she thought she could handle everything. But now? Now she didn’t even know where to begin. How could she tell him she was pregnant now, after this? After he had just made it clear that he didn’t want a future with her because of something she couldn’t change?

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. “Floyd, this… this isn’t fair. You can’t just decide this without even talking to me. You don’t even know what we could have—”

“I know, Lauren,” Floyd said, cutting her off gently but firmly. “But I’ve made up my mind.”

Lauren’s breath hitched, her chest tight with the weight of the unsaid words. She had planned to tell him tonight. She had planned to sit him down and explain everything, to figure out what they would do together. But now? Now it felt impossible. Now it felt like telling him would only make everything worse.

She looked away, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tell him. Not like this.

Floyd reached across the table, his hand brushing hers, and she pulled back instinctively. The contact felt too much, too painful. "I’m sorry, Lauren," he said quietly. "I really am."

Lauren couldn’t speak. She couldn’t even look at him. She just sat there, her mind a storm of emotions, the secret of her pregnancy pressing down on her harder than ever.

And in that moment, as Floyd stood up to leave, she realized that she might never be able to tell him.

Because how could she tell him now, when he had made it so clear that he didn’t want a future with her? How could she bring a child into a world where their father had already decided that they wouldn’t belong?

As Floyd walked away, Lauren was left sitting alone in the restaurant, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach, where their child—*his* child—was growing inside her.

And for the first time, Lauren felt truly, utterly alone.

Chapter Text

Lauren sat on her couch, her legs tucked underneath her, a soft blanket draped across her lap. The apartment was eerily silent, the only sound the soft hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen. The air around her felt heavy, pressing in on her as she stared off into the distance, her eyes unfocused.

She had been sitting like this for hours—just thinking, or rather, not thinking at all. Her mind had slipped into a state of numbness, unable to process the enormity of everything. The test. The breakup. The way Floyd’s words had shattered something inside her that she wasn’t even aware could break.

*“I want Black kids.”*

The words echoed in her mind again, sharper this time, and she felt her stomach twist. It wasn’t that she hadn’t understood his decision. She got it—really, she did. People had their reasons, and she knew race mattered. But it had been the way he said it, like it was something so fixed, something that had sealed the fate of whatever they had before it even had a chance.

Her hand instinctively moved to her stomach, resting there as if seeking some kind of reassurance. She wasn’t showing yet—barely a few weeks along—but the weight of the decision she had to make was immense, and it felt as though it was suffocating her. She had been going back and forth in her head, cycling through every scenario, trying to picture a life where she could bring this child into the world without Floyd.

It wasn’t as if she had ever planned to be a mother. In fact, Lauren had never pictured herself as one. She was pro-choice, always had been. She had seen too many lives shattered by mothers who were unprepared, by children who were brought into the world without the love and stability they deserved. And yet, here she was, in the same position she had always sworn she would avoid.

Her thoughts spiraled as she stared out the window, watching the fading light of the day reflect off the glass. The city below her seemed to carry on without a care, people going about their lives while hers felt like it had ground to a halt. Her hands trembled slightly, her body heavy with indecision, with the weight of a choice she knew would change everything.

The baby.

Her baby.

She had been avoiding it for days, weeks even. Every time her mind started to lean one way, she pulled herself back, scared of making a decision she couldn’t take back. She didn’t know how to be a mother. Hell, she didn’t even know if she wanted to be. And the idea of doing it alone, without Floyd, without the promise of the family they might have had together—it terrified her.

But there was something else too, something deeper, a quiet voice that had been growing louder in the back of her mind. A voice that reminded her that this wasn’t just about Floyd, or about her fears of being unprepared, or about the life she had planned for herself.

This was about *the baby*.

Her hand pressed a little harder against her stomach, and for the first time in weeks, Lauren allowed herself to imagine it—the possibility of being a mother. Not just *a mother*, but *this baby’s* mother. A tiny life that had already begun to form inside her, a future that had already started, whether she was ready for it or not.

She didn’t know why, but as she sat there, staring out at the fading light, something shifted inside her. It wasn’t dramatic or sudden. It was quiet, almost imperceptible, like a slow exhale of breath after holding it in for too long. The fear was still there, lingering at the edges, but beneath it, something else began to grow.

Resolve.

She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the couch, and for the first time, she stopped fighting the thoughts swirling in her head. She stopped trying to talk herself out of it, stopped telling herself that she wasn’t ready, that this wasn’t what she wanted.

She let herself *feel* it.

The enormity of what it would mean to keep this baby. The fear. The uncertainty. The loneliness of doing it without Floyd. All of it washed over her, wave after wave, until she felt like she might drown in it. But as she sat there, letting the emotions crash into her, she also felt something else—a sense of purpose she hadn’t known she was capable of.

This baby, *her* baby, deserved more than her fear. It deserved more than the confusion and the heartbreak that had led her to this moment. And for the first time, Lauren let herself consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, she could do this.

Maybe she wasn’t as alone as she thought.

Maybe Helen would help her figure it out. Maybe Max. Maybe she had more support than she was allowing herself to believe. But more than that, maybe she could do this because she was strong enough to do it on her own.

The thought didn’t feel as terrifying anymore.

In the silence of her apartment, Lauren opened her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision settle over her like a blanket.

She was keeping the baby.

It was a decision that hadn’t been easy, and she knew it wouldn’t be smooth sailing from here. There would be days when she would doubt herself, days when the fear would creep back in and make her question everything all over again. But tonight, right now, she made her choice.

She wasn’t going to let her fear rule her. She wasn’t going to let Floyd’s absence dictate her future.

This baby was hers, and no matter what happened, she was going to figure it out.

Lauren exhaled slowly, feeling a strange sense of calm settle over her. It wasn’t the kind of calm that meant everything was suddenly okay—it was the kind of calm that came with acceptance, with the understanding that she was stepping into the unknown and trusting herself to handle whatever came next.

She could do this. She would do this.

And as she sat there, her hand resting protectively over her stomach, Lauren Bloom made a silent promise—to herself, and to her baby.

No matter what happened, no matter how hard it got, she would be there. She would be enough.

Chapter Text

Lauren paced back and forth in her apartment, her footsteps echoing in the quiet space. The room felt too small, the walls closing in on her with every second that passed. Her hand rested on her stomach, fingers absently tracing the still-flat surface beneath her clothes. She had made her decision, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she felt a sense of calm about it. But now, she had to tell Helen.

Helen Sharpe had been her confidante, her rock through all of this, ever since Lauren had practically screamed for her in the hospital bathroom. She had been there for the shock, the panic, the disbelief that Lauren, of all people, could be pregnant. And now, Lauren needed her more than ever. She needed her to understand. She needed her support.

Lauren’s eyes flicked to her phone on the coffee table. She had been staring at it for the better part of an hour, her thumb hovering over Helen’s name in her contact list. She knew Helen would come over in an instant if she asked, but what if Helen tried to talk her out of it? What if she didn’t understand? What if Helen reminded her of all the things Lauren had already thought herself—that she wasn’t ready, that she never wanted kids, that this wasn’t part of her plan?

With a deep breath, Lauren pressed the call button before she could think twice. The phone rang twice before Helen’s voice came through, calm and familiar.

“Lauren? What’s going on? You okay?”

Lauren paused, her mouth suddenly dry. She could hear the concern in Helen’s voice, the way she always knew when something was wrong, and it made Lauren’s heart ache with gratitude. She took a breath and forced the words out.

“Helen, can you come over? I need to talk to you… about the baby.”

There was a brief silence on the other end, then Helen’s voice softened. “Of course. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Lauren hung up and exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the nervous energy buzzing beneath her skin. She wasn’t sure why she was so anxious. Helen was her best friend; if anyone would understand, it was her. But this decision felt monumental, and part of Lauren feared the reaction it might provoke, even from someone as supportive as Helen.

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on her door. Lauren’s heart skipped a beat as she walked over and opened it to find Helen standing there, her face etched with concern but also with that calm, steady presence that always made Lauren feel grounded.

“Hey,” Helen said softly, stepping inside. She took one look at Lauren’s face and her expression softened further. “Talk to me.”

Lauren shut the door behind her and gestured toward the couch. “I’ve… I’ve made a decision. About the baby.”

Helen nodded slowly, sitting down on the couch and giving Lauren her full attention. She didn’t push or pry, just sat there, waiting for Lauren to speak in her own time. It was something Lauren had always appreciated about Helen—her patience, her ability to let things unfold without forcing them.

Lauren sat beside her, her hands resting in her lap, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. She glanced at Helen, her heart racing in her chest. “I… I’m keeping the baby.”

The words felt heavy in the air, as if they were tangible, weighty things that could shift the entire universe around them. Lauren watched Helen’s face closely, waiting for any sign of surprise, of judgment, of disapproval. But all she saw was quiet understanding.

Helen blinked once, her eyes widening slightly, but she didn’t look shocked—just thoughtful. “Okay,” she said softly, her voice measured. “Tell me what led you to this.”

Lauren let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, relieved that Helen wasn’t immediately trying to talk her out of it. “I’ve been thinking about it nonstop,” she began, her voice low. “At first, I couldn’t even wrap my head around it. I never saw myself as a mother. I didn’t think I had it in me, and honestly… I didn’t want it. The responsibility, the… everything.”

She swallowed hard, trying to keep her emotions in check. “And after Floyd… after what he said, it felt like it wasn’t even an option. I kept telling myself it wasn’t the right time, that I wasn’t the right person to raise a kid. But…”

Her hand moved to her stomach again, almost unconsciously. “But then I started thinking about the baby. Not about Floyd, or about what I thought my life should look like, but about this tiny life inside of me. And I realized that… I want this. I want to give this baby a chance. Even if it scares the hell out of me.”

Helen listened quietly, her eyes never leaving Lauren’s face. She didn’t interrupt, didn’t say a word until Lauren had finished. And when Lauren finally stopped, her breath catching in her throat, Helen nodded slowly.

“Lauren, I’m proud of you,” Helen said softly, her voice filled with warmth. “You’ve made a decision that’s right for you, and that’s all that matters.”

Lauren blinked, taken aback by the immediate support. “You’re not going to tell me I’m crazy? Or that I’m making a mistake?”

Helen shook her head gently. “No. You’ve thought this through. I can see it in your eyes. This isn’t a rash decision; it’s something you’ve really considered. And if this is what you want, then I’m behind you, one hundred percent.”

Tears welled up in Lauren’s eyes, and she quickly looked away, blinking them back. She hadn’t expected to feel so emotional, but the relief of hearing those words from Helen was almost overwhelming. She had been carrying this weight for so long, unsure of whether anyone would understand, and now… now she didn’t feel so alone.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that.”

Helen reached over and took Lauren’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re not alone in this, Lauren. I’m here for you, every step of the way. Whatever you need—whether it’s a sounding board, or help navigating the tough stuff, or just someone to listen—I’ve got you.”

Lauren squeezed Helen’s hand back, the gratitude flooding her chest. “I’ve been so scared,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I didn’t even realize how scared I was until I made the decision. And now… I just don’t know if I can do this on my own.”

“You won’t be alone,” Helen said firmly. “You’ve got me, and you’ve got the people who care about you. Max, Iggy, Kapoor… you’ll have more support than you think.”

Lauren nodded, but the fear still lingered in the back of her mind. It was hard to shake the feeling that she was stepping into something she couldn’t possibly be prepared for. But as she sat there, holding Helen’s hand, she realized that maybe she didn’t need to be fully prepared. Maybe she just needed to take it one step at a time.

“I’m going to tell Floyd,” Lauren said suddenly, the thought tumbling out of her before she had fully processed it.

Helen raised an eyebrow, her expression cautious but supportive. “Are you sure?”

Lauren nodded, though she wasn’t entirely certain herself. “He deserves to know. Even if he’s not going to be involved… I just feel like I need to be honest with him. About everything.”

Helen gave her a small, understanding smile. “That’s brave, Lauren. And whatever happens, whatever he says… just know that you don’t need his approval. This is *your* decision. You’re doing this for you and for your baby.”

Lauren’s chest tightened at the thought of telling Floyd. She had replayed the breakup over and over in her mind, his words stinging every time she thought of them. It wasn’t that she expected him to change his mind or come rushing back into her life, but she felt like he needed to know. He had been a part of this, even if he wasn’t going to be a part of what came next.

“I’ll tell him,” Lauren said quietly, more to herself than to Helen. “But I won’t let his reaction change my mind.”

Helen gave her a proud smile. “That’s the Lauren I know. Strong, determined, and doing what’s right for herself.”

Lauren let out a shaky breath, her heart lighter than it had been in weeks. She still had so many uncertainties, so many fears about what the future held, but for the first time, she felt like she could handle it. She had made her decision, and she was standing by it.

And with Helen by her side, she knew she could face whatever came next.

As they sat there in comfortable silence, Lauren felt a sense of peace she hadn’t known was possible. She had made her choice, and no matter what happened, she would see it through.

Because this wasn’t just about fear or uncertainty anymore. It was about something much bigger. Something that had already begun to take root deep inside her heart.

Chapter Text

Helen Sharpe sat at her desk in her office, flipping through a patient’s file, but her mind kept wandering back to her conversation with Lauren the other day. The news that Lauren had decided to keep the baby still felt fresh, and she had been waiting to hear about her first ultrasound. Helen had wanted to be there for it, to support her best friend during such an important moment, but Lauren had insisted on going alone, saying she needed to process things on her own terms.

Helen understood that. Lauren had always been fiercely independent, especially when it came to difficult situations, but Helen still wanted to check in. She knew this was uncharted territory for Lauren, and as much as she respected Lauren’s space, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of responsibility as her friend and confidante.

A soft knock on her office door pulled Helen from her thoughts. She looked up to see Lauren standing there, her arms crossed over her chest, looking a little hesitant but otherwise calm.

“Hey,” Helen said with a smile, gesturing for Lauren to come in. “I was just thinking about you. How’re you feeling?”

Lauren shrugged as she stepped into the room, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket. “I’m fine. Just… you know, the usual. Work’s been busy.”

Helen leaned back in her chair, studying Lauren’s face for a moment before speaking. “Busy, huh? That’s good to hear, but… I was actually wondering about something else.”

Lauren looked at her curiously. “What’s that?”

“The ultrasound,” Helen said gently, her tone casual but with an underlying warmth. “How did it go? I’ve been dying to hear about it.”

The question seemed to hang in the air for a beat too long. Lauren’s expression shifted, just barely, but enough for Helen to notice. It was subtle, but there—a flicker of hesitation, maybe even discomfort.

“Oh, yeah,” Lauren replied, her voice a little too breezy. “It was, you know, fine. It’s still early, so there wasn’t much to see.”

Helen raised an eyebrow, sensing something off. “Really? What did they say? Everything looks good?”

Lauren nodded quickly, glancing away as if the conversation were nothing more than routine. “Yeah, everything’s fine. No problems or anything.”

But Helen knew Lauren better than that. She could see through the casual tone, the forced ease. Something wasn’t right. Lauren wasn’t making eye contact, and she seemed unusually fidgety.

Helen tilted her head, her eyes softening with concern. “Lauren…”

Lauren’s gaze darted back to her, but she quickly looked away again, her fingers tugging at the sleeves of her jacket.

Helen’s heart sank as she realized the truth, the thing that Lauren was trying so hard to cover up. “You didn’t go, did you?”

The words were gentle, not accusatory, but they still landed heavily between them.

Lauren’s shoulders tensed, and for a moment, she stayed silent, her jaw tight. Finally, she exhaled, her whole posture deflating as if the weight of her secret was too much to carry any longer.

“No,” Lauren admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t go.”

Helen’s chest tightened with a mixture of empathy and concern. She had suspected as much, but hearing Lauren admit it still hit hard. She leaned forward slightly, keeping her voice calm. “Why didn’t you go?”

Lauren shrugged again, this time with more frustration than before. “I don’t know, Helen. I just… I couldn’t. I meant to, but I just—” She trailed off, shaking her head as if the words were too difficult to say.

Helen gave her a moment, not wanting to push too hard. She knew Lauren well enough to understand that sometimes, the hardest part wasn’t just admitting the truth—it was figuring out how to say it.

After a long pause, Lauren finally spoke again, her voice raw with emotion. “I guess… I’m still not ready to face it. The reality of it. I thought I could handle it, but when it came time to go, I just… I couldn’t bring myself to walk into that room and see it. See the baby.”

Helen’s heart ached for her friend. She could only imagine the complex storm of emotions Lauren must have been dealing with—the fear, the uncertainty, the overwhelming weight of everything that was happening.

“It’s okay,” Helen said softly, her voice filled with understanding. “It’s a lot to take in, I know. You’re not ready, and that’s okay.”

Lauren looked up at her, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready, Helen. I’m terrified. What if I can’t do this? What if I’m making the biggest mistake of my life?”

Helen leaned forward, her hand resting on Lauren’s arm in a comforting gesture. “Lauren, it’s completely normal to feel that way. You’re stepping into something huge, something life-changing. But you don’t have to do it all at once. You don’t have to have it all figured out right now.”

Lauren let out a shaky breath, her fingers still twisting the edge of her sleeve. “But I feel like I should. I feel like I should be ready by now, and I’m not. I don’t even know where to start.”

Helen squeezed her arm gently. “You start by taking it one step at a time. There’s no timeline for this. It’s okay to feel scared. It’s okay to take things slow. But you’re not alone in this, Lauren. You’ve got me, and I’ll be here with you every step of the way.”

Lauren’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and for a moment, she looked like she was on the verge of breaking down. But then she took a deep breath and straightened up, brushing a hand across her face as if to steel herself.

“I just thought… if I didn’t go, if I didn’t see it, I could keep pretending it wasn’t real. That I still had time to figure things out.” She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “But that’s not how it works, is it?”

Helen’s voice was gentle as she responded. “It’s okay to feel that way. You’ve been through a lot, and this is overwhelming. But you don’t have to pretend anymore. You can face this, and when you’re ready, you’ll take that next step.”

Lauren let out a soft sigh, her shoulders finally relaxing as if she had been holding herself together for far too long. “I’m scared, Helen. I’m scared of everything. Of being a terrible mother, of screwing this up, of not being enough.”

Helen’s gaze softened even further, her hand never leaving Lauren’s arm. “You’re already doing more than enough, just by being honest with yourself about how you’re feeling. And you’re not going to be a terrible mother, Lauren. You’re going to be an incredible one, because you care. And that’s what matters.”

Lauren swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion. “I don’t know if I believe that yet, but… thank you for saying it.”

Helen smiled, her eyes warm. “You’ll get there, in your own time. And when you’re ready to go to that ultrasound, I’ll go with you, if you want. You don’t have to do it alone.”

Lauren’s lips trembled slightly, but she managed a small, grateful smile. “I think I’d like that,” she said softly.

Helen nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. It wasn’t going to be easy, but Lauren was taking the first step by opening up, and that was the most important thing right now.

And as they sat there, the silence between them comfortable and full of unspoken understanding, Helen knew that no matter what came next, they would face it together.