𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘, 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝖻𝗎𝗆

you, bea

[SETTING.🌺] Quiet hallway outside the nursery, late evening. Most of the base has gone to sleep.

The base had finally quieted down.

Laughter and chatter from earlier had faded, the corridors now humming only with distant wind and creaking pipes. A soft light glowed from the crack of the nursery door, left slightly ajar.

Thomas stood just outside, hand still hovering over the knob.

He'd seen Hiro earlier — in the chaos of the common room, in Nico's arms, in Bea's arms, surrounded by the others. He had smiled, made jokes, even ruffled Hiro's hair with a finger as gently as possible.

But this... He wanted this moment alone.

He pushed the door open slowly.

Inside, Bea was sitting in the old rocking chair near the window. She looked tired — bone-deep tired — with her curls messy and cheeks pale, a blanket around her shoulders, and her baby cradled gently against her chest. Her amber eyes flicked up when she saw him.

"Hey," she said softly, like she'd been waiting for him.

Thomas stepped inside and shut the door quietly behind him. He crossed the room slowly, almost unsure, like he was afraid he'd break something just by being too loud.

"You awake?" he asked.

Bea gave him a small, crooked smile. "Barely."

He stood beside her, eyes fixed on the tiny bundle sleeping in her arms. "That's him?"

Bea tilted Hiro just a little so Thomas could see more clearly. "This is Hiro. Your nephew."

Thomas crouched next to the rocking chair. His eyes were wide, searching — as if trying to memorize every tiny detail of the baby's face.

"He's so... small," he whispered. "Bea, he's yours."

She laughed under her breath. "That's what everyone keeps saying."

He looked up at her — really looked — and the emotion that pooled in his chest was like nothing he could name. Because this wasn't just anyone. This was his sister.

The girl who once stood between him and danger.
The one who stitched up wounds with trembling hands and hope.
The one who had been through fire and loss and war...
And now... now she was a mother.

"You did it," Thomas murmured, voice rough. "You really did it."

Bea blinked, confused. "What?"

"All of it," he said. "You survived. You built a life. You made a home. You—" He reached up, brushing a tear that slipped from his eye with the back of his hand. "You're holding your son."

Her lips quivered.

"I was so scared for you, Bea," he whispered. "Back then. After everything with WCKD, after the escape, after the fight — I didn't know if you'd ever get to be happy."

"I didn't either," she said, voice trembling. "But then Nico came. And all of you. And... then Hiro."

Thomas placed a hand over hers — the one resting protectively over Hiro's blanket.

"I'm proud of you," he said, firmly. "Not because you're a mother. But because you chose to be. You let yourself live again."

Bea sniffled, wiping her tears against her shoulder. "He's going to grow up in a world we made safer."

"Because of you," he said. "Because of you, Bea."

She laughed again, watery and soft. "You're going to spoil him, aren't you?"

Thomas smirked. "Please. That's my job. I'm the cool uncle."

She gave a mock gasp. "Don't tell Nico."

Thomas leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then gently tapped Hiro's head.

"Welcome to the world, little lion," he murmured. "You've got the bravest mom on Earth."

Bea didn't answer. She just rocked back gently, tears slipping down with her smile, and held her son just a little tighter.

And Thomas — who had seen more war and ruin than most people lived through in a lifetime — felt, for the first time in a long time, like something in the world had been made right.