Medical Center. Locker Room.
"So, what'd you get up to last night? You're practically glowing," Christina said, squinting at Adam with her sly little eyes.
"I'm always a happy-go-lucky guy," Adam shot back with a grin. "Plus, it's a holiday—gotta be extra cheerful, right? Double the fun!"
"Yeah, something's fishy here," Christina muttered, not buying his excuse for a second.
She didn't dwell on it, though, quickly switching gears with a secretive smirk. "Hey, have you guys heard? Dr. Montgomery's officially on board. The surgical chief dumped a huge budget on her—top-tier private services, the slickest neonatal ICU, and a salary that's the highest of any surgeon in New York. Talk about a big move!"
"She's worth every penny," Liz chimed in. "She's one of the best in her field. With her here, our pediatrics department might actually have a shot at being number one."
"Lucky you, getting picked by her," Christina teased. "You're definitely gonna outshine the rest of us down the line."
"Hmph!" Liz scoffed. "Wanna trade? I bet if you asked, Dr. Montgomery would jump at the chance to take you instead."
"Not so fast," Adam laughed. "Not just anyone can handle pediatrics. Christina? No way she's cut out for it."
"Absolutely not," Christina said, waving her hands like she was shooing off a fly. "Adults annoy me enough—now throw in screaming, rowdy kids? I'd lose it just thinking about it."
"That's the only reason?" Liz smirked. "Come on, the real issue is you look down on pediatricians, don't you?"
Christina just grinned, saying nothing. Adam caught her drift and smirked back.
Pediatricians always get the short end of the stick in the doctor pecking order. Sure, Dr. Montgomery rolled in with VIP treatment and the fattest paycheck among surgeons, but that's as good as it gets for peds. She's the kind of outlier who drags the average up just enough so the specialty isn't always dead last—sometimes they snag second-to-last instead. Still, Christina couldn't hide her disdain for the gig.
"I don't know about the future, but I do know you're gonna regret today," Liz said suddenly, a sly smile creeping onto her face.
"Why's that?" Christina's head whipped around. "Does Dr. Montgomery have a juicy case?"
At that, Adam's eyes lit up too. He'd been interning at the medical center for months now, seen tons of surgeries, even taken the lead on plenty. But cases with kids? Those were rare. Tiny hands, tiny feet, tiny hearts—he figured he could use the practice.
Liz held up her hand, all smug, and wiggled her fingers. "Ever seen quintuplets?"
"You're kidding, right?" Christina's jaw dropped.
"Quintuplets?" Adam blinked.
It jogged his memory—back when Phoebe was set to be a surrogate for her brother and his wife. If Adam hadn't stepped in, they'd have implanted five embryos to up the odds. If all five took, boom—quintuplets.
"That's a hell of a risk," Adam said, shaking his head.
"No kidding," Liz agreed. "Word is, she already had triplets—all boys—and really wanted a girl. So they tried again. She got her girl this time… along with four others."
"Her husband's face probably went white as a sheet when he heard," Adam said with a chuckle.
"Who could blame him?" Christina snorted. "Unless you're loaded like you, Adam, good luck affording enough nannies to raise eight kids!"
"Maybe she could write a book," Adam quipped, recalling a meme from his past life. "First Pregnancy: Triplets. Second: Quintuplets. Ultimate Supermom!"
"What even is that?" Liz rolled her eyes. "Who'd read something that random?"
"Who knows?" Adam shrugged.
"I'm off to rounds," Liz said, slamming her locker shut and heading out. "Dr. Montgomery gets in early, and today's the official kickoff for the pediatric chief's first big win."
"I'd kill for a high-profile case like that," Christina groaned. "The chief's probably already got reporters lined up for this quintuplet bombshell."
"Not so fast," Adam cautioned. "This is quintuplets we're talking about—super high-risk pregnancy. Calling in reporters now? One slip-up, and it's less 'face in the spotlight' and more 'egg on their face.'"
Sure enough, the case was a total buzzkill—or buzzmaker, depending on how you looked at it. Rounds wrapped up, and the hospital was already abuzz with gossip.
"Liz, what's up?" Adam asked, spotting her in the hallway. Her vibe was off, and he couldn't help but pry.
"It's the quintuplet mom, Mrs. Lusabin," Liz said, frowning. "I just did her ultrasound. The numbers are… barely okay. She shouldn't be picking out names right now—she should be thinking about letting two go. That'd give the other three more time in the womb, better development, healthier outcome."
"How far along is she?" Adam asked.
"Only 32 weeks," Liz said, shaking her head. "She had to check in already."
Normal pregnancy? Forty weeks. Twins? Thirty-six. Quintuplets? Thirty-four weeks is pushing it for an ideal term. The shorter the pregnancy, the less time the babies get to grow, and the worse off they are health-wise. Preemies come with a laundry list of risks—every mom wants their kids to cook a little longer. But with multiples, it's not like you can just will them to stay put. Five fetuses growing at once? The strain on the mom is unreal. There's a hard limit to what a body can take.
"Your attitude's off," Adam said gently. "It's her call, not yours. As a doctor, you can't let your feelings bleed into it. Besides, 32 weeks—two more, and they're out. You really think she'd ditch two of her kids now? That doesn't sound like you."
Liz opened her mouth, then shut it. Her face darkened, and she turned to leave.
"Man, what a mess," Adam muttered, watching her go. Something was up with Liz—something tied to kids, no doubt. She had a story, and he'd bet it wasn't a happy one.
Meanwhile, over on patreon:belamy20, maybe someone's crowdfunding their own wild tale—could be worth a peek.
"Could she be our Juno Benno?" Adam mused, cracking a smile.
In the original timeline, Juno got pregnant in high school and made waves. But with Adam flapping his giant butterfly wings, that story got shredded. Juno didn't chase after the shy jock—instead, she grabbed Karen's hand and charged full speed ahead. Now Liz was giving off those old Juno vibes, like she'd lived through something similar. A double-standard do-gooder like her wouldn't normally suggest sacrificing two kids unless she'd been there herself—maybe gave up a baby young and convinced herself it was the right call. Otherwise, she'd have to admit she screwed up, and that'd drive her nuts.