"Give him back! Give my son back! Let me see him! Just once!"
The words were still wounding. The tortured cry unheeded even now, days after the birth of her tiny angel. She kept playing them over in her mind, a broken record forever on a loop as she pleaded with her husband for some sign of release. She only wanted to see him. To look her darling child in the face and say a proper goodbye. Would it be so bad to let her hold him in her arms just once? He was her kin, her flesh and her blood wrought into something so small and perfect. What was Hojo so afraid of? That she might look him in the face and realise that her child was simply that, and not an experiment to be denied a life of normality?
Pacing outside the lab, the weary woman was on tenterhooks, her nerves and her sanity slipping away as every intruder into that room stopped her from taking the one precious thing that resided within. "Please…just let me see him." Lucrecia pleaded in earnest, her fingers hooking into a technician's labcoat as they approached the doors. "That's my son in there. He's mine." Futility resided heavily in her tone as she was cast aside, the assigned security detail making certain that she found no reason to connect to the spawned experiment. There was no reason to be attached. She'd served her purpose, as a scientist she should've been more objective and less easily swayed by a rush of hormones.
"You should let her see him." From within the laboratory's gloomy confines, a knowing voice cut across the sound of machinery as the source furrowed his brows and stroked over his moustache. Even Gast Faremis could see the flaw in this project, it was so gaping in fact, that he had every intention of shutting it down. It wasn't fair. Not when one of his most efficient and respected colleagues was in agony because of it. "Even if it's only once, she needs to make her peace." Shifting his gaze uneasily towards the door separating them from the doctor's demanding plea, slowly he turned back to Hojo as he scribbled note after note regarding the newborn.
"She'll get attached." The ebony haired man replied flatly, his mouth curling into something akin to a sneer as his pen jabbed experimentally at Sephiroth's foot. "Would you coddle and name a deer before you shot it? Would you stroke it's ears and comfort it, simply to fire right between it's eyes? It's easier to be indifferent. She'll thank me in the end." He had no intentions of seeing this boy as anything other than an advancement of science. He wasn't his son. He was a project. A gateway to knowledge and to perfection. The sooner his hysterical wife realised that, the better it would be for all of them.
"Hmmm." Gast hummed disapprovingly as he turned on his heel. He could appreciate the science, but he also knew what it was to love. He'd seen it before, mothers willing to die for their children in the pursuit of an instinct so strong no force on the planet could deny it. They were wrong to even try, but it wasn't his place to question. If Hojo knew what he was doing, then all the professor could do was watch and hope it worked out for the best. Jenova had the power to help didn't she? The surviving Cetra legacy was important, it needed to be preserved, although at what cost?
Pushing through the doors with reluctant strength, the head of the science department steeled himself automatically as Lucrecia rounded on him, emotive eyes glistening with liquid misery as she demanded his attention. "Gast…please. I just want to see my son. I want to know if he's as beautiful as I thought he'd be." He didn't want to see her cry, nor did he want to deny her the chance to look upon the face of a child that had been a part of her very existence for nine months, but it wasn't his decision to make. Palms resting upon her shoulders, the kindly man bowed his head slightly, unsure of which words would comfort rather than wound.
"Lucrecia, I'm sorry…but you can't. Hojo thinks it's for the best that you don't see him. " Corrosive despite their softness, each syllable stabbed at the woman as she tried to process the details. This wasn't fair. It couldn't be happening. She was a new mother. She was supposed to be with her baby, smiling and telling the world. They were going to be a family, far away from the madness of Nibelheim. Shaking her head, steadily the medic backed away, her spine pressing into the wall as she shook her head, slender hands trembling as they knotted into her hair and tugged fiercely.
"No…no that's not right. You're supposed to let me see him, to let me hold him. He's just a baby. My baby." Silently, the water amassing in her eyes spilled over, dripping down her cheeks in confused denial. What had she done to deserve this? She'd only ever tried to be a good wife. Why was she being punished for something so pure and perfect? Why did she have to suffer in the name of an experiment? For nine months she'd been afflicted, and for nine months, she'd endured in the hope of seeing the face of an angel.
"Give it time…" Gast hesitantly tried to offer a shred of hope to quell those tears. Perhaps Hojo needed to adjust to the idea of fatherhood. Perhaps the paternal urge hadn't kicked in just yet. He doubted it, but even the unlikely seemed plausible in the face of futile failure. merely balked, her face paling as she straightened up and ran, the weight of denial heavy upon her shoulders as her heels clicked along the polished floors. What kind of mother was she if she wasn't there for the first few days? Sephiroth wouldn't know her, he wouldn't bond with her like mother and child were supposed to. She was being denied the most basic of maternal instincts and for what? A madman's delusions of grandeur with a chemistry set?
Uncertain of her destination, the brunette followed her feet without question, her subconscious steps leading her back to the only other place she could find comfort. She was running back to him, back to her fallen lover, the hero that had once made her life complete. Navigating through the intricate arrangement of laboratories, finally the woman arrived at her goal, the eerie green glow of a test tube staring her straight in the face as she gazed through tear veiled eyes. Closing the door to maintain her privacy, trembling steps led her to the glass prison that now housed her onetime Valentine as she pressed her cheek to the glass and cried for him.
"I need you." She told him in haggard breaths, as her fist smashed against a computer console. "They took my baby, Vincent. They took my baby and they won't give him back." Anguished beyond all belief, the woman turned abruptly, shattering beakers and throwing whatever she could get her hands on in a quest for closure. " I should have listened to you. I should have protected you both and now he's going to join you. This is my fault. I did this. I'm a disease and nobody is immune." Sweeping her hand across a surgical tray, cool metal clattered to the ground as she decimated the entire space, her fit of unavoidable rage serving no purpose in the grand scheme of things.
"I'm sorry…so very sorry." She cried repeatedly, the words flowing from her tongue as she lashed out again, striking at the tube that housed her first love. The surface didn't even scratch, her fist slamming methodically before becoming a palm as it lingered across the transparent surface. Fingermarks sullied the glass as she slipped down, her knees buckling beneath her until she was nothing but an agonised heap of emotional turmoil. "How many more lives can I ruin? I couldn't even save you Vincent. I tried. I tried so hard…and for what? For you to spend the rest of your life in a jar? That isn't a life. That's barely an existence. And now my son…my son is going to grow up to endure vivisection and isolation, until he begs to join you in death."
She could barely even breathe for all of her sobs, the rapid rise and fall of her chest clouding whatever judgement still remained. "I can't fix this. I can only make sure I don't ruin any more lives. I'm sorry Vincent. I'm sorry…" Groping sideways for the feel of cluttered metal, lithe digits curled around the fallen scalpel as it gleamed in the unnatural light. She needed to do this. She had to. It was the only way to stop herself from repeating the same mistakes. For all of her sins, she didn't deserve to live.
Raising the surgical tool, the medic curtailed her scream as she made the first incision, the blade slicing through flesh and muscle as she sought out the most effective places to cut and end things efficiently. She didn't want to be saved. She wanted to die. She wanted the freedom of knowing that this was one action she had yet to fail at. Opting for the back of her knees, and finally her left wrist, veins spilled open with deoxygenated blood, the sticky crimson liquid pooling beneath her as her body slumped, tortured eyes staring up at the ceiling as she felt the pull of exsanguination kicking in.
At first her heart was racing, adrenaline surging in an act of self-preservation, but the longer she bled, the slower her pulse became, every beat forcing out life until she felt the icy hand of death upon her shoulder. Freedom was so close. Redemption so sweet she could almost taste it upon her lips as she waited for the seductive pull of death's silence. Slipping finally into eternal rest, Lucrecia's salvation was short lived, the final beat of her heart bringing with it a voice in the recesses of her mind. The same voice had shown her the monster her son would become, the cruel taunting whispers of an ancient evil screaming words into her head even in death.
Breathe. Go on. Live. The mother of my legacy is far from weak. Breathe.
The demands were swift, the order unmistakable as the medic did her best to resist. She didn't want to live like this. She wanted the sanctuary of rest, the closure and contentment of knowing there was peace even after the greatest of sins. She couldn't face the world, not when she'd done such an effective job of destroying it.
I will not let you die, mortal vessel. You should see the weapon we created. Now breathe.
Something inside of the doctor throbbed in agony, Jenova's influence stabbing at her psyche until it obeyed the simple request. Her body convulsed, her back arching off the floor as she took an unwilling breath, her heart drumming back to life as the calamity pulled her from the afterlife and back into the miserable existence she'd sought to escape. Gazing up at the ceiling once again in horror, darkness came back into focus, objects visible as she remained motionless in a pool of her own blood. Fingertips twitching, Lucrecia couldn't will herself to move, her breathing ragged and undoubtedly scared as the reality began to process itself, tears blistering in the corners of her eyes as they trickled down each cheek.
By Jenova's will, she was always going to be a prisoner of her own sins.