October 13th, 1979
London

Positive.

It was almost impossible to believe.

Positive .

Closing her eyes and drawing her legs up to her face, Cruella found her entire body shaking. The dark silk of her camisole waved and brushed against her leggings, the latter of which had become the only thing she'd been comfortable sleeping in for the last several weeks. Now, she couldn't help but wonder if this was why, why so much had felt off kilter, why she had felt just so sick . She found her mind starting to play tricks on her too, reminding her of her own mother, or at least the woman who had brought her into the world. The thought of that woman never failed to cause her nausea, but that was all the worse in this moment, sitting here on the cold marble of her bathroom floor. If no one else, Horace and Jasper would be around at some point in the next day or two, and she had no idea what she would say to them if anything at all.

She wasn't even sure it was real.

Her eyes hurting and a bit bleary, Cruella reached over for the stick of plastic she had set down on the floor beside her. Her hands were shaking worse than ever and her eyes would barely focus but, when she could see it again long enough to read it, the result was still the same. Positive . It wasn't the only one she had taken either; two others that read the same were already in the waste bin on the other side of the room. She closed her eyes again and set the test down, hoping to quell the nausea long enough for her to get off the damn floor, brush her teeth, and lay down in bed. The inside of her mouth still tasted of bile, and she could have sworn there was a bit of a taste of metal in there too, possibly blood from where she had bitten her cheek. Whatever it was, it was making everything that already felt terrible worse, and she was desperately hoping the sensation would fade soon.

Positive.

The more she thought about it, the more incredulous she was. Struggling to make sense of what was happening, she thought back. Late '77, her fashion empire had taken full flight following the 'death' of Estella and her - she recoiled at every thought of the woman - mother's conviction and imprisonment for it. By early '78, when she had just fallen into a serious relationship, her GP had informed her that she would be unlikely to conceive naturally, let alone carry a pregnancy to term. Halfway through that year, it seemed that had been proven right. Even her former partner didn't know she had been pregnant, let alone had suffered a brutal miscarriage. Seeing this now was terrifying, especially in reminding herself what had happened just a year before. Fear began to ebb through her, and, without even realising it at first, Cruella felt her hand drop to her belly, resting protectively over it.

Positive.

"Don't leave me," She whispered, barely able to hear herself and feeling silly about it nonetheless. "Not again. Don't make me go through that again."

Hearing footsteps approaching the closed door to her bath suite, she startled, slowly forcing herself to get up and holding onto the counter, not trusting herself to not start vomiting again, though she wasn't sure there was really anything left to vomit. She only relaxed when the door finally opened and only John stepped in, looking particularly concerned. The elderly butler and general confidant of the esteemed designer said nothing but, taking the cue from her rather strained appearance and shakiness, helped support her until she was able to lay down in her bed. The nausea still crashing over her in waves, Cruella drew her legs up against her chest, holding herself tightly under the large, soft fur blanket in an attempt to calm her nerves. It didn't help much, but it didn't hurt either, which, she supposed, was at the very least something.

"It's rather unlike you to miss a late night with your friends," John finally said, the worry he carried more than evident in his voice despite his attempts to be completely neutral. "Has something happened? I understand that your…..ex-fiance calling you so unexpectedly yesterday was -"

"It was horrid, just as he turned out to be," She replied, sounding less irritable and more upset. "That is, considering the circumstances, that being in a matter of days of my pulling out of our engagement due to my own fears, he turns around and is suddenly more than ready to marry another woman. Apart from my….mother, I don't think I've ever hated another human being more."

"Of course," John sympathetically replied. "Should I leave you to rest?"

Cruella did not respond, unsure of what she wanted and afraid of admitting what she felt she most needed.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He kindly pressed.

"No," Cruella sighed and then, barely audibly, said: "It's happened again, even after they told me it was impossible."

John's eyebrows shot up and his eyes grew wide in understanding.

"You're afraid the outcome will be the same."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement of fact, one she did not protest.

"I'll call a specialist for you, ma'am," He eventually went on. "If you want to have the -"

"Of course I want the baby," Cruella could barely believe she had said it aloud. "I wanted it last time, too, and I…"

She trailed off. Acknowledging that aloud was too much, and she doubted she would ever be able to bring herself to say it.

"I'll find a way to have a specialist come tomorrow, to ensure you get everything you need," He said, starting towards the door. "I presume you want to retire for the night, but do you want me to clear your schedule for tomorrow too?"

Cruella glanced at him but then nodded.

"Thank you," She said, though she wasn't sure he heard her. "For everything."

The doors soon closed behind him and she reached for the light by her bed to turn it off. When the darkness settled over her room and she could feel the cool air of the unit mixing perfectly with the warmth of her blanket, she let her eyes close, trying to fall asleep.

They always told me I wouldn't be able to have a child, Her mind whispered. They were right before….but I can't….they can't be right again. And he….he can never know. Ever.

May 29th, 1994
London

"At least smile for me, darling,"

Lana Marie De Vil rolled her eyes at her mother, only to get a pointed look from her step mother in response. Having two mums is a nightmare sometimes. Still, the fourteen year old smiled, her chocolate brown hair brushed over her shoulder and her piercing blue eyes vibrant behind her silver glasses. So much as she complained about the fuss her mothers made about her birthday, she knew as well as they did that she secretly enjoyed it. She started to giggle a bit when she realised that Horace and Jasper had come by (and Jasper had even brought his wife) for the sole purpose of piling onto the excitement of her mothers. Cruella couldn't help but smile herself when she got the picture of her daughter's laughter, noticing for not the first time that she smiled almost exactly like her. My little miracle angel. Beside her, her wife teasingly looped an arm around her, pushing up her golden rimmed glasses with a playful smirk. When she was sure Lana wasn't paying attention, Cruella leaned over the little she needed to and pressed an unusually innocent kiss to her wife's lips.

"You've always been exuberant, haven't you my love?"

"Isn't that why you married me?" Allie replied, dramatically tossing back her hot pink tresses. "Because of my exuberance and unpredictability?"

"Well, I wouldn't quite say that," She replied. "But I'll admit it was part of it."

"And I'll remind you the only reason the two of you were allowed to have an exception in the marriage laws was because of Cruella's status and money," Jasper put in, cutting their moment short. "A happy event, but still the result of her….renown, considerable personal wealth, and her uncanny ability to force people to give her what she wants."

"You have to dampen every moment, don't you?" Allie scowled at him. "I think that might be why I like Horace more than you. He doesn't butt in on things like this."

"And there's the blunt American in you coming clean out," Jasper replied, not missing a beat. "I must say, I never quite know what to make of you."

"You're not the only one," Allie informed him, rolling her eyes. "That could be the reason why I've been fired from a couple of magazines I've worked for over the years."

"You've been fired?" Lana Marie perked up, looking between her mothers expectantly. "I have to hear about that!"

" No ," Cruella said firmly. "The last thing you need to hear is what Allie's done to get herself into hot water with people for any number of reasons."

"I'll tell you about it later," Horace discreetly whispered to her, only to be elbowed by his wife. "What'd I do to you Carly?"

"Nothing," She innocently replied. "I just bumped into you, sorry about that dear."

Jasper snickered. "Bumped into him my ass."

"Enough," Cruella sent the two of them a dark look and wrapped an arm around her daughter, any irritation melting away when she affectionately pressed a kiss to her daughter's forehead. "I'd show you the Ferrari Allie and I got you to drive around the estate, but something tells me you've already seen that."

Lana Marie fidgeted awkwardly. "Well….."

"I told you she had," Allie said with a teasing smile. "And, for once, not because I'm barely able to keep track of the things I need to do for myself."

"I'm afraid I have to take the blame for this one," John said, pouring Allie another full glass of pinot noir. "I let it slip by mistake when she and I were discussing some of what she had seen and wanted while the three of you were in Italy last September for Allison's birthday."

"That was a great holiday…" Allie mused as she began to sip her third glass of wine. "I don't think I've ever been more relaxed than I was while we were there."

"I would tend to agree," Cruella smiled at her, affection for her rising again. "You're usually an erratic, anxiety strung set of nerves."

"I don't think she's ever been anything but that," Lana Marie stared at her mother, her brow furrowed. "And I thought you didn't want to let me have a car."

"You and I both know that sometimes I change my mind," Cruella replied. "This was one of those times, particularly when I saw that bright yellow Ferrari in the parking lot outside of one of my more recent fashion shows."

Lana Marie hummed in understanding and glanced to her step mother.

"You pushed her towards it, didn't you?"

Allie hesitated, taking another long sip of her wine.

"I can be very persuasive."

Horace, Jasper, and Carly all snorted, getting a glare from both Allie and Cruella.

"Sorry," Carly said with an apologetic smile.

"I'm not," Jasper said with a shrug.

"I can't believe she said it," Horace remarked, mostly to himself.

Cruella started to laugh, not even caring, for once, when the phone started to ring and cut into the celebration. Lana Marie hugged her mother tighter, comforted by how happy and normal she seemed, something she missed. She always gets so weird around my birthday and she and Allie always refuse to explain why….even John, Horace, and Jasper refuse to tell me anything. Still, she chose not to care, and happily accepted it when Allie handed her a glass of pinot noir. Cruella took one too, setting a hand gently to her wife's shoulder to steady her as she was starting to sway a little. It was one of the few times where everything felt perfect, where she didn't worry about her family, or about her mother and the things she said while still imprisoned, or about her daughter's father. All of that shattered, however, when John stepped back into the room, looking like he was trying to hide anger that had been elicited by whomever had been calling.

"That was for you," He said, an unusually upset and nervous edge to his voice when he met Cruella's gaze. "I merely informed the caller that you do not want to hear from them and are having a family celebration you do not wish to have interrupted."

Allie felt her heart drop and quickly grabbed her wife's hand, feeling the way Cruella tensed.

"Are you alright, love?"

"Mommy?" Lana Marie pressed, her voice shaking.

"I'll be fine," Cruella said, if somewhat unconvincingly. She hugged her daughter tightly again. "Don't worry about it, darling. You know sometimes I have to deal with unsavoury people."

Unsavoury is an understatement when it comes to him…..James Varna has become even worse throughout the years. She barely felt it when Allie rested her head on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, only staring at her daughter, her brow furrowed in worry. I swore you would never be able to have contact with her and you've left her alone….if not me. What the fuck are you playing at now?