Epilogue: I'm A Doctor, Not A Veterinarian

The slim wand slid into her vaginal canal, stiff, unyielding. His gloved left hand pressed at her lower abdomen at the same time.

"So...what does it look like?" Lois Lane says.

"Well," the old man stared at the sonogram. "I'm a doctor, not a veterinarian, but we have a pair of fetal heartbeats, which is correct for about the 6th week of pregnancy. It's too soon to tell if they're not human."

Dr. Midnite turned from the screen to his patient. He carefully moved the probe a little, and she winced at it seemed to press almost at her cervix. The reporter was staring unhappily down at her pale white belly, holding the shirt up under her breasts. His left hand was pressing about three inches below her belly button.

"Of course, if you'd like to terminate the pregnancy..."

He didn't finish. She chewed her lip for a moment.

"Is there...danger?"

"All pregnancies pose a risk to the mother's life," he said flatly. "Superhuman pregnancies, moreso. That being said, with modern medicine...and, as much as I dislike to use the term, magic...you and your potential offspring are much more likely to survive than at any other point in human history. That being said, I'm sure no-one would fault you if you chose..."

"One would," she said.

The old man's gaze dropped to the letters branded just above the reporter's pussy. He read out the phrase aloud in Greek, which was more than Lois Lane could do herself, though she knew what it said. Dr. Midnite looked at the sonogram screen again.

"Horse foals are generally about 10% of their mother's weight. That's a lot for a single fetus. For two, you're going to be looking at a substantial strain on your body. You currently weigh 120 pounds, according to the scale. By the end of the pregnancy, you might be pushing 190 pounds...or more. That's assuming everything goes as expected. In my experience, that is rarely the case."

He removed the sonic wand, not ungently. Lois blushed, thinking about how wet even that brief contact made her. She hadn't had anything between her legs since that night six weeks ago.

"You're saying I could get bigger?" Lois said.

"I'm basing the estimation on the assumption that these are horse embryos, scaled down to your size." He paused to turn off the machine. "A normal foal could weigh 100 pounds, if the mother weighs 1,000 pounds. I looked that up, when you explained the situation over the phone. If the embryos are hybrids..."

"Like a centaur," the reporter said. He nodded.

"...they'll probably be closer to human, but could still easily be bigger than a normal human child for the same period. Likewise, human gestation is forty weeks, horses fifty weeks."

"So...I could get as big as a house," the reporter said. "And be pregnant for an entire year."

"Regular check-ups are the key, if you decide to go through with the pregnancy. At any time approaching forty weeks, we can always attempt a surgical intervention to deliver."

Lois let her shirt fall over her stomach. This was a lot to take in.

"Incidentally...you'll want to step up whatever workout routine you're used to. Don't focus on cardiovascular exercise, but on muscle-building and flexibility. Twin pregnancies tend to lead to rapid weight gain, and that in turn can lead to a number of complications—gestational diabetes, high blood pressure, etc.—you need to focus on being mobile for as long as possible, to help manage your blood sugar levels and overall health."

She nodded. It made too much sense not to heed such advice.

"Incidentally...if this pregnancy is the result of..." He paused. "Many heroes, men as well as women, have been **** into nonconsensual sexual relations. Some of them have gotten pregnant, or a disease...and there have been ongoing psychological trauma in some cases. I just want you to know that there is a support group available, if you need to talk about it."

He passed her a card, silver circuity seemingly embedded in the paper. The name on it surprised her.

"You're not alone in this, Miss Lane, is what I'm trying to tell you," he gave her a tight-lipped smile. "It's far more common than you'd think. Plenty of women have gone through what you're going through. I know it's difficult, but if you find you need someone to talk to...about anything..."

"Thank you, doctor," she said, her thumb feeling the sharp edges of the card. "I'll think about it."