Title: The Show Goes On
Pairing: Rebekah/Hayley
Summary: When she was human, Rebekah had wanted children. Now she's making up ice-cream flavours for pregnancy cravings that aren't even hers.
TW: pregnancy, death
Written for Femslash February 2018. Eventually I'll get to the point where I can post a fic a day for the challenge, but so far my efforts in that direction have been subpar. Still, there's always next year to hope for.
Occasionally, when the mood strikes and she grows downright melancholy, Rebekah will let her mind wander and remember when her main goals were to have children, be a mother, grow old with somebody, and die, preferably with all goals completed and in that order. As for falling in love, well, it seems as though that's all she ever does anymore. It would be nice if someone reciprocated properly once in a while. It's not as if she can't move them past mere mortality.
None of those things is ever likely to happen to her now.
For a moment, in the span of some short days and weeks, when the Cure was the Holy Grail of the month, she had thought she might have a shot at regaining those dreams, even if she had to fight any number of her brothers for it. (She's the baby of the family, a fact she has never once hesitated to take advantage of. They might have given it to her without argument, they might not. But they wouldn't kill her.)
That dream was nothing but dust on the wind, thanks the Petrovas. Tatia always did have a habit of getting into other people's business. The situation caused by that chit had ended well, and all the other doppelgangers are just as bad as her. Once a Mikealson, always a Mikealson, and her brothers would never let her go. Not permanently at least. Kluas was getting rather overly fond of the temporary method, trigger happy hybrid that he is.
Her dreams may be consigned to dust, along with so many of her early loves, but that didn't mean they couldn't change. (It doesn't mean she can't tuck them away somewhere deep where she doesn't have to acknowledge that they can stay, hidden away and safe from harm.)
It didn't have to be her baby, in all the technicalities of the term, to be hers, and at this point Hayley is as good as blood. Better, taking her reluctant acceptance of Rebekah's shopping into account. She hasn't even a single century's perspective to weigh against the time spent. Unlike her brothers, both conspicuously absent once more. With luck, she won't have to go rescue either of them this week.
Currently, her baby remains rather attached to Hayley, which means treating one is treating the other. Or vice versa, but the French Quarter hasn't had any witches making trouble this week. So far. There's always the weekend.
No one is going to do anything to that baby that doesn't include spoiling Baby Demon Spawn, which is why she has a selection of at least twenty different ice-cream flavours in her car. Cravings are one part of pregnancy she doesn't miss anticipating, although there is something to be said for service on demand even if she had not anticipated being the one doing the serving.
As she snaps Taylor's neck, she briefly wonders if Ben and Jerry's comes in a Blood and Chocolate variety. It's a line of inquiry that's worth looking into, even if Hayley will end up finishing it.