Summary: Did one for Jenova, now it's time for Seph's actual mother to take a spin on the soliloquy wheel. Pretty angsty, and sad. Lucrecia's not one of my favorite characters, but I can sympathize with her situation.

Disclaimer: Do I look like I own something as big as Final Fantasy VII?

Queen's Quornor: This is what happens when you're bored at work. You come up with fic ideas and write them down on random slips of paper so you can work with them later. I got an ask-questions-type fic out of today, as well as a smutfic that's going to be up and running soon, but this one seems to be the best. So, here's the chain of events from Lucrecia's POV. Keep in mind that she doesn't know what happened to Sephiroth. For all she knows, he's still alive. Enjoy!

Give Me Back My Son!

Sealing onself within crystal of purest mako gives one much time to think. About...mistakes one made during the course of their life. About the things they lost and would give anything to have back.

Vincent...

Sephiroth...

I know Vincent can take care of himself now. Omega has returned to the realm of dreams and prophecies, and there he will remain until the Planet summons him forth on the final day of her existence. Chaos rests easily within Vincent's body now, and he knows how to control it. Chaos will never trouble him again. He does not visit me anymore, but I know he is all right. And for that, I am grateful. After the hell I put him through, he deserves some peace.

But Sephiroth...

People who know my story believe that Vincent was the one I hurt the most. But he was not the greatest victim of my mistakes. I hurt him, so much... But that pain was nothing compared to that which I must have caused my own son.

My son...

Strange to think that I once only thought of him as 'the specimen.' After Hojo impregnated me, I truly didn't care about the life growing in my womb. I continued deluding myself, even when I knew the truth. Vincent was the one I loved, not Hojo. Never Hojo. And it was Vincent's child I wished to be cradled within my body. That's why I so readily agreed to the next phase of the Jenova Project: if for some reason the experiment resulted in a miscarriage, I would not grieve for the life lost.

But the cellular injections didn't cause a miscarriage. They made me very sick, but that was about it. At first, anyway. At times I despised the child within me, hated it because it tied me to Hojo irrevocably. I knew it wasn't the baby's fault that his father was a crazed, egotistical maniac, but I still blamed it for my troubles. I wanted it gone from me, as quickly as possible.

As the weeks went by, the baby started to grow on me emotionally. I can't explain it, but I began entertaining thoughts of caring for the child myself, rather than leaving it in the lab as originally planned. Yes, there would be tests on its physical and intellectual development, but the remainder of its time would be spent in more traditional activities, the pastimes of childhood. Mother and child, together.

I kept pushing these musings to the back of my mind, forcing myself to keep to the original plan. But the first time I ever felt the baby kick, that line of thinking went out the window. Maternal instinct, I suppose. But I stopped hating my child, stopped thinking of it as 'the specimen,' and starting loving it as my child. I even picked out names, Natalia for a girl, and Sephiroth for a boy.

It was a day of both apprehension and excitement when I went into labor. As soon as the baby was out, I fought back my pain and struggled to sit up, arms outstetched, eager to hold my child and see what I had been coexisting with for the past nine months. I wanted to touch its face and tell it I was its mommy.

So imagine my horror and despair when Hojo wrapped up the baby and laid it on a rolling table, taking it away from me amidst my cries for him to stop and the baby's haunting wail.

I tried so many times to discover where my child had been taken, but Hojo foiled my every attempt. At last, I settled for asking one of the assistants whether it was a boy or a girl. She told me it was a boy, and I told her that his name was Sephiroth.

My son.

But simply knowing that I had had a son, and that he was healthy wasn't enough. I wanted so badly to see him, to hold him. More than anything else. But I couldn't. And so, to take my mind off my son, I threw myself into trying to save Vincent's life after Hojo shot him. I eventually succeeded, but not before Hojo figured out what I was trying to do, before he found out how badly I needed to see Sephiroth. I think what finally broke me was the moment he started laughing at me, telling me that he was a valuable scientific specimen and that I could potentially contaminate the subject.

I came to the cave only a week later.

The worst part of this whole thing has been never seeing my son grow up and turn into an adult. Did he ever know that I was his mother? I know Hojo didn't treat him like a son. Who served as his mother-figure? Who was there for him when he was hurt? Who did he go to when he was scared? Sephiroth deserved more than a mother who was never there for him. And being in this mako fountain, I can't even check on him from the Lifestream. My consciousness is trapped here, sealed until Omega appears once more. Everyday I wonder how my son is doing, where he might be and what he is thinking.

And everyday, when I think of Sephiroth, I am reminded of exactly how much I despise Hojo. He took away my love and my son, and by proxy he took away my life.

All I wanted was for someone to love me. Vincent loved me, and Sephiroth would have too, if he had ever been allowed to meet me. I'm his mother, after all. All sons love their mothers.

Don't they?

If there is one thing I could ask of the Lifestream, of the Planet, of Omega or whoever, it would be this:

Let me see Sephiroth! Let me talk to him!

Give me back my son!