Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Purgatory ❯ Don't Let's Start ( Chapter 5 )

I don't know why no one told you how to unfold your love.

I don't know how someone controlled you.

They bought and sold you.

--George Harrison

Lucrecia could close her eyes and remember the night her son was born as if it'd happened yesterday. It was the most beautiful January night she'd seen in a long time and that was saying something. In Nibelheim, beautiful winter nights were commonplace. This one, she had decided, had put all others to shame.

The sky was clear and nearly cloudless. Only a few scattered clouds marred the midnight blue and Lucrecia knew then why the night sky was so often referred to as the heavens. The moon was full and she'd basked in its light, looking upward as if searching for answers. Never in her life had she seen so many stars...and how they had sparkled for her on that night. Like they'd never shone for anyone at all, like it was their first time in front of an audience--working hard to impress their lone viewer with their performance. She reveled in it, despite the biting cold of the night. Wrapping her robe closer, she stepped out onto the balcony of her room in the Shinra mansion. It had been months since she'd walked out like this. She'd been bedridden from all the treatments her husband had given her.

He'd promised to make her son stronger, promised that all the problems they'd had were of the past. That this was in no way revenge for her indiscretions. He had lied to her. Told her the injections she'd endured for the last eight months were vitamins--specifically created by him to help the baby develop properly. He'd told her that it had no connection to his work on the Jenova project but she was no fool. She knew very well that he and Gast had begun preparations to secure approval for human test subjects. This gave her strong enough suspicion that she and her unborn child were his first, unofficial, experiments. The thought sickened her but what was she to do? She couldn't leave. He wouldn't let her, not without a fight. A fight Lucrecia knew she'd lose and she wasn't willing to risk something awful happening to her baby. She'd stay, for her child, she'd stay.

At that particular moment, none of that mattered. She was happy to finally get up and out of her bed, to see the stars. How she wished there was a way to go over them, to fly away from this dark place, so full of sadness and regret.

Being nine months pregnant everything was a lot more difficult, and her frail condition brought about by the treatments hadn't helped. It had taken five full minutes to get out of bed. She had to sit on the edge for a moment or two to catch her breath before getting to her feet. Her belly was quite rotund and she was often left feeling very fat. Though she knew the weight she'd gained was mostly in baby, her current shape was still disconcerting to her. Lucrecia had always been on the thin side.

The whole experience was strange to her. Sometimes she'd forget she had a belly at all. Until she reached for something and it got in her way. But she wouldn't trade the discomfort the extra weight or any of the other slight inconveniences her pregnancy caused for the world. There was something to be said about bringing forth new life. It brought unparalleled calm and an odd sense of fulfilled joy to realize that a new little human grew within you. And you were responsible for that life.

Her work had always been the focus of her life up until that point. She'd never imagined a time in her life when there would be something that would replace it. Children, family--they were things she'd rarely thought of. All that mattered was the next equation, the next theory, the next unsolvable question she'd unravel.

It was during this time that she'd fallen in love with Hojo or at least, that's what she thought it was. Hojo was the kind of scientist that made something as dull and predictable as genetic engineering sound exciting. He was charismatic...in his own way. Not traditionally handsome, he'd never traded on his looks to charm an audience. It was his personality that had captured her attention, as well as the attention of others. His theories, though sometimes flawed, had intrigued Lucrecia. He was by no means the most brilliant scientist she'd ever met, but he was the most interesting. And she had to admit, his hopes of creating a way to eliminate specific genetic abnormalities was fascinating. One night after one of his lectures they'd talked about it over a cup of coffee in the Shinra commissary.

It was perhaps the most stimulating conversation she'd had in her entire life. With the exception of one other, a conversation she'd had three months ago with a Turk who'd she'd met, oddly enough, in the same commissary during a lunch break. Vincent Valentine, the name was enough even now to bring a small smile to her face. He was very handsome and Lucrecia had been suitably impressed and at the same time terrified that he'd pay any attention to her. She'd never thought herself a great beauty and could only guess why someone like him would look twice at her. Besides the fact that he was a Turk and being an insider at Shinra, she knew what their purpose within the company was. Despite of her fear of him and what he did for a living, there was a definite attraction. And it was hardly one sided. Lucrecia knew little when it came to love and romance but she could feel herself being pulled to him. As if fate had decreed that he was the one.

Her knowledge of what he did worked against her, for as drawn to him as she was--he was a killer. A murderer for hire and morally she couldn't ignore that, Lucrecia was altruistic and in some ways naive about the way the world worked. At least the way in which Shinra worked. Beyond the basic fact that she falsely believed she and Vincent had so little in common. Hojo, in the end was the safe bet and in her eyes, the right choice. Besides, he was so sweet and gregarious. He made her laugh with his self-deprecating sense of humor. Hojo was an open man, willing to express himself. Willing to show his feelings for her, with surprise gifts of candies and flowers. Romantic candle lit dinners. Things that Vincent could have provided but he thought frivolous. Preferring to show affection in simpler ways. Asking about her day, getting her headache medication when she asked for it. Vincent was too reserved and rarely shared his feelings; it was like pulling teeth just to get him to talk. She'd tired of his cold attitude. No matter how close they got, he still seemed to hold her at arms length. He never said those three little words every woman longs to hear. Hojo did. Besides, he was a cold-blooded killer. Hojo worked to better lives, not snuff them. So she'd taken his proposal over Valentine's, deep in her heart of hearts regretting her decision even as she made it.

With marriage came a job offer. Hojo had invited her to become a part of a joint research team. She was flabbergasted when he'd offered it to her and accepted with little thought. The Jenova Project was broad in its scope and presented a real opportunity to advance her career. Though she was married now, she still thought only of her job. The same could be said of Hojo. For work was all either of them had ever had.

The work itself was challenging. Gast was a brilliant scientist in his own right, world-renowned and it was an honor and a privilege to work with him. They had set about cross breeding the only surviving biological specimen of a race once thought long gone. The ancients or Cetra as they called themselves, were a powerful race of people. For a long time they were regarded as nothing more than fairy stories, until one had been found deep in the earth ten years ago by Gast himself. It was said the ancients were extremely long-lived and nearly impervious to most illnesses that plagued human kind. More over, they were purported to be able to speak with the planet and use magic without the aid of materia.

Gast had studied the specimen for some time and had determined that former part of the legend was true. The statistics generated by his initial tests indicated that before death the creature was stronger, faster and smarter than any living human being. The later part of the legend proved also somewhat true. Though they had no idea if it could actually cast magic without materia, the elevated magic levels in the specimen, if they were to be believed, were astounding. Even more curious was the fact that as it thawed, it seemed to regenerate the parts of itself that were missing or damaged--after death. Gast had hoped to study it in more depth but he'd quickly run out of funding, being an independent scientist. He'd brought Hojo on board because of his connection with Shinra. Hojo had jumped at the chance to work with Gast, more for glory and to try and best his only rival than anything else.

Lucrecia had been put in charge of the lab, overseeing the other scientists and research assistants as they worked on various tests and experiments. Much to her delight, she'd been given an additional task by Gast. He wanted her to completely map the creature's DNA, because he wasn't entirely convinced of its origins. It was said that the Cetra were remarkably similar to human beings in appearance and biology. This specimen looked anything but human, and that fact gravely concerned him. When she'd told her husband of her good fortune, he was less than pleased. In fact, he was downright angry at her, accusing her of going behind his back in an attempt to further her own career. Which, of course was completely ridiculous. It was a minor fracas, easily resolved but sadly a sign of things to come. He had admitted to being a jealous fool but he wouldn't relent about one topic they disagreed on completely.

Hojo had been trying to push forward the initial testing phase, preferring to jump straight into the bulk of the research and experimentation. Both Lucrecia and Gast had disagreed, being in many ways better scientists than Hojo; they believed that more data had to be run before any experiments began. They didn't know what the specimen really was. They could make educated guesses from where they found her and the basic information they'd already gathered, but that wasn't enough. They needed concrete proof, definite arrows that pointed to her origins. There were no Cetran relics found with her, save for a helmet of some kind with the word Jenova scrawled into it in ancient Cetran. This too pointed to her being a Cetra, but Gast still had doubts. For the helmet found with her looked more like a restraining device than any kind of jewelry or charm that was commonly buried with the Cetran deceased.

They'd hoped to secure another expedition to the northern crater, where it was found. Hoping to find more evidence that would support their theories and make experimentation with its DNA less risky. Obeying the cardinal rule as true scientists, cover your ass. When they'd approached Hojo with their doubts, his reaction, once again, was less than pleasant. He had acidly disagreed with them, citing the fact that they didn't have the time nor the money for additional research. Effectively disregarding their concern and shutting down any further discussion of the issue.

Gast wasn't happy in the least as he became aware that this project was less his now and more Shinra's. Hojo's exertion of control was effortless and final. His only choice was to go along or be released from his temporary contract with Shinra. Gast wouldn't quit, mostly because he wanted to see that the research was done properly--or at least as properly as it could be done with an incompetent like Hojo in charge.

The situation for Lucrecia wasn't much better and in many ways, it was worse. Hojo had severely reprimanded her, commenting that his suspicion of her was correct. He believed that she was only trying to further her own career at the expense of his. In his opinion, she had no notion of her place in the scheme of things and by god, he'd teach her. She ran the lab, nothing more nothing less. As such, she had no say in how things were to be run, other than to keep the work in the lab on time. Calling her concerns nothing more than idle feminine prattling--"overemotional female nonsense". He then chided her like an errant child for being so easily duped into Gast's plans to take over the research. Hojo was insecure about his own intellect. Frightened that his wife would outshine him and took this opportunity to keep her in line. For in truth, he knew that both she and Gast were his superiors, not the other way around. No matter what Shinra's paperwork said.

Lucrecia wasn't a terribly strong or self-assured individual. Most professional women in her line of work wouldn't have taken his dressing down quietly. They would have fought him, smacked him down like a stray dog. Being afraid of conflict, she wordlessly agreed with Hojo. Facing her own form of silent torment. Feeling ashamed she'd backed down so easily and saddened by his harsh treatment of her. Once more, this argument was forgotten and for a time, things were better.

As the work increased, this one time occurrence became a daily routine. The man she knew and fell in love with disappeared and in his place was an irritable powder keg. The project was growing in size as Shinra saw an opportunity for profit. They began to demand marketable results. Not understanding that research takes time. Especially with the kind of research they were doing. Genetic manipulation was the unexplored country; the things they'd planned to do had never been done. If successful, the Jenova project could change the course of evolution. It could very well be the high or low water mark of their civilization. The results all depended on how much time they were given.

With Shinra rushing them, all the scientists involved were afraid it'd be an abject failure. Even Hojo was worried. There were many snags and delays that had made the company execs furious. They'd sent down a couple of Turks to watch over the research, because Shinra believed them to be stalling.

What made things worse was that Lucrecia had discovered something that threatened to derail their work entirely. At the time, she was too afraid to say anything to her husband. He was always short with her. Small things setting him off on a vicious tirade, his verbal assaults were enough to reduce her to tears most times. Rather than try to argue, she shrunk into her work as if it were a protective shell.

She rarely saw her husband, concentrating on her work totally. As time went by, even this didn't dull her despair. What became clearer each day was that Jenova wasn't what they thought she was. She had agonized about what she should tell Hojo, even briefly thinking about telling Gast...nixing that option right away. Gast had increasing doubts about the specimen's veracity but Lucrecia remembered very well the last time she'd consulted him and didn't want to tempt fate or her husband's quicksilver temper.

She'd endured a tortured week of this, until she finally worked up the courage to speak with her husband. Finally she was ready to tell him what she knew about Jenova, that it wasn't a Cetra at all. Despite its slightly humanoid appearance, the specimen known as Jenova was a virus. It masqueraded as a vaguely humanoid creature but its only purpose was to infect. All the specimen they'd injected, all the experiments they'd performed were worse than useless--they were walking biohazards. Lucrecia was terrified, wondering what Jenova's contagion might do to all the specimen they'd experimented on so far. They'd introduced a potentially lethal virus to a populace who didn't have any immunity to it, as the ancients might have. The horrifying reality of an outbreak situation loomed above her and as fearful as she was of her husband, she feared that more. Thousands could die for their curiosity.

With trepidation she told her husband everything she knew. Her voice became thinner and her resolve began to disappear with every word as she gazed into his face. He looked sickly; his skin was paler than usual, hanging off his already gaunt frame. His eyes were glazed over and obvious dark circles hung underneath them. She couldn't remember the last time they'd gone to bed at the same time.

While she spoke, he said nothing. Which was unusual for Hojo, who'd always been an animated, talkative man. A man who was eager to make his point of view heard, often interrupting people mid-sentence rather than letting his thoughts wait. This quality had always secretly irritated her and she'd wished more than once for him to shut up. It was ironic how much she wished that he'd say something now. His silence was unsettling, frightening and so eerily out of character that she was forced to look down to conceal her emotion. The man who sat so silently in his plush chair was a stranger. He gazed at her expressionlessly, his eyes seeing through her and not at her. It was like there was nothing behind those eyes, like Hojo was an empty shell. That something dead and rotten now tugged at his reigns. Yasuo Hojo was gone and in its place was this thing, this withered shadow that glared at her with contempt. This thought unnerved her greatly and she felt a tide of nervous tension ripple over her. Rambling on for a few minutes longer, she tapered off, her voice a dull whisper. He waited for an eternity, glaring at her with the darkly blank eyes of a predator--obsidian beads that were dead and vacant.

"Like the eyes of a shark...", she thought as she stared into space aimlessly.

Hojo stood, his manner controlled and oddly fluid for someone as gangly as he was. Lucrecia unconsciously shrunk back into her chair, her body reacting on instinct to perceived threat as he circled her. Her gaze followed his movement; her jade eyes were wide and frightened at the feral look that crossed his features.

"Yasuo?" she queried, using his first name in an unprecedented slip in her normally professional manner.

"You stupid cow." he hissed, before backhanding her.

The blow was so sudden she didn't even have time to scream. So forceful, it had sent her flying off her chair, knocking into a small counter at the back of his office. With a cry she shielded her face as she hit the counter. Her right arm flung out to brace against the fall, shattering the glass jars and containers that lined it. The jagged pieces of glass cut through her lab coat, smaller pieces embedding themselves in her flesh. She stumbled to her feet, staring wildly at her husband while clutching her bleeding arm.

He began ranting at her, his words slipping between Midgar Standard and Wutanese so fast that she had trouble understanding him. What she could catch was nothing short of insane. Sounding more like the ramblings of a mad man than anything else. He noticed her confusion, which seemed to anger him even more. His voice rising in volume as he continued on with his disjointed diatribe and all the while his face turned a livid red as his fury reached a fevered pitch.

The world spun and Lucrecia was aware that she was on the verge of fainting. His words had become lost to the buzzing in her head and she felt as the world teetered between gray and white. What little sense she could catch in his speech muffled by the background noise in her skull. There was only one central message she could interpret behind his rant. He had told her that Jenova most certainly WAS an ancient and that she and Gast were just jealous. Filthy jealous traitors. They were holding him back, trying to build their careers while bogging his down. Screaming that this project would go forward before lunging for her, his face a mask of twisted fury. She then received the first beating of her life and by far the worst.

Barely able to remember the blows, Lucrecia was only conscious of the fact that her husband was much stronger than he looked. Almost supernaturally stronger. He had changed and she wondered dimly as his fist connected with her jaw if it was because he'd altered himself. As she lost consciousness she was aware he'd called one of the Turks who guarded the place. Vincent's shadowed form had hovered above her as she heard through the thick foam walls of her mind her husband's voice.

"Take care of that..."

A single tear slid down her cheek before she passed out. Her husband was no longer the man she loved, knowing this she was still unwilling to leave. A part of her was too stubborn to believe that her Hojo, the one she'd fallen in love with, was truly gone. She had to believe there was some part of him left, something she could save. Optimistically hoping to salvage a marriage that was beyond saving.

Though she'd never admit it, her fear of Hojo outweighed any feelings of love or affection for the man. After her "accident", she tried to avoid her husband as much as possible. She tried her best to go back to work, pretending as if nothing unusual had happened. Word in a small town spreads fast and it wasn't long before the occasional acquaintance or perfect stranger began to query why she'd stay with Hojo after what he'd done. She had nothing to give but fumbling excuses. The pressure soon became too much and she'd requested a leave of absence. A leave her husband had all too quickly approved. She still stayed in Nibelheim; he wouldn't go so far as to let her out of his sight.

The only saving grace during this dark period was Vincent, who stayed by her side despite her rather blind loyalty to her husband. He, like the others, didn't think she ought to stay with Hojo. Unlike everyone else, Vincent had never voiced his opinion but she could see it hiding behind his eyes. Those dark eyes so haunted with thousands of reprehensible deeds. Things he could never escape, never explain, and never feel. The eyes of a ruthless killer, who had no trouble murdering any target--man, woman or child-- yet looked at her so disapprovingly. Lucrecia wondered if there was such a thing as honor amongst thieves. Was spousal abuse that frowned upon amongst Shinra's hired thugs? She had noticed the look of disdain, almost contempt, on Vincent's face every time he had to deal with Hojo. The way his eyes would narrow slightly and his body tensed, as if he was trying very hard not to throttle him.

During her long recovery period he hadn't left her. He'd sat by her bedside and held her hand. Looking down at her with those tortured eyes of his with such devotion and repressed feeling that Lucrecia felt as if her heart might burst. No one had ever looked at her like that. Was she even worth such emotion? Whether or not she was, he had given it to her. When she'd turned him down, he had accepted it with quiet dignity. Turks were known for their cold resolve. It didn't behoove them to let their emotions rule their minds. Not to say that he lacked emotion, only that he had control over them. He loved Lucrecia and she'd chosen another. It hurt but he wouldn't allow that to cloud him. He'd let her go, though there was always a part of him that would pine for her.

He hadn't trusted Hojo in the least. Vincent knew Hojo to be an ambitious man who had no qualms about standing on the heads of others for his own glory. He'd seen the scientist's ruthlessness in advancing his career for himself. Hojo and President Shinra were peas in a pod. There were more than a few missions that he'd been forced to undertake on their behalf. Most of the missions were clean up jobs and evidence elimination. All of them were very nasty. It left a bitter taste in his mouth that Lucrecia couldn't see Hojo for what he was. But who was he to run her life? He couldn't force the woman to love him. All the same, he kept an eye on her. Using his position as the leader of the Turks to make sure she was all right. He'd practically had to move a mountain, but he'd managed to secure a transfer to Nibelheim so he could keep a better watch on her. Something about Hojo's current pet project had scared him and he'd know sooner or later the Turks would be called in once more to clean up the aftermath. He might as well be there before hand, so at least Lucrecia might escape unscathed.

The transfer had taken an ungodly amount of time. Shinra was reluctant to let their best Turk out of their sight, only to languish in Nibelheim with nothing more useful to do than look after scientists. He'd convinced them it was necessary. Playing on their fears of Gast, the only scientist in the group who wasn't strongly affiliated with Shinra. He'd worked with them in the past, developing the materia refining process. But he hadn't given them tacit control over his designs. Managing to secure a contract that allowed him to share his knowledge with Shinra's competitors. This time they'd taken precautions so that he wouldn't be able to do the same thing. Though there was still unspoken fear that somehow Gast would find a way. It was widely regarded that the man was a genius. Eventually, Shinra saw it his way and he was transferred. Thanking the gods that he was the moment he'd picked Lucrecia's battered body off the floor.

For Lucrecia his coming was nothing short of a miracle. All the things they'd talked about, the things he'd warned her of. All of it was true. He had been right. So damn right. She'd fallen gratefully into his arms and the moment they wrapped around her she knew she'd been wrong about him. A thousand words, a thousand instances, a thousand things he'd shown her in that short interlude. They had more in common than she'd ever imagined. It had all started with a bedside conversation about her favorite book.

The Tzadikim-Nistarim -- la rêve de foi, a book of ancient Cetra prophecy and ritual healing spells. She'd made a comment in passing referring to the text and he'd picked up her reference because he'd also read it. No one she'd known had read the text. The Tzadikim-Nistarim was an obscure tome and despite being translated, badly she might add, it was rarely read owing to the complex and confusing nature of the text. So finding someone, besides Gast, who'd read the work was astounding to her. Even more astounding was that he disliked the translation almost more than she did. She was shocked to know that Vincent spoke more than twelve languages--one of which was officially considered dead. She knew quite a few as well, including a more modern version of the Cetran speech. Which helped when trying to translate the more ancient texts. Her husband didn't think of a Turk as a rival, as he had Gast and he saw no problem in the time she'd spent with Vincent. Either that, or he just didn't care who she was with as long as it wasn't Gast. Hell, he probably thought all the time the Turk was spending with her was in an effort to spy on her for Shinra. He was that paranoid.

They'd endlessly discuss the individual spells and prophecies, as if trying to unravel the mysteries of the ancients. Lucrecia was delighted to find someone like Vincent, who was more open to the mystical side of life. She was a scientist and as such, the ambiguous nature of Cetran mysticism should have been beyond her. But it was because she couldn't understand it that it fascinated her so. She'd always enjoyed a good mystery and with her leave of absence, she was often left with nothing to do. Their in depth discussion of the book and its meanings was a pleasant diversion. So every afternoon, long after her husband left, Vincent would come to their lone little apartment in the Shinra mansion. And together, they'd read the book and fumble with the arduous task of re-translating and interpreting it.

The part of the book that had intrigued both scientist and Turk was the Sepher Yetzirah. It was a book within a book, dealing with the very core of Cetran belief, though dealing mainly in prophecy. They viewed the planet as a tree of life, naming it Yggdrasil. It was said that one-day two children would be born, and they would carry out the will of Yggdrasil. They would each be halves of the tree of life and through them the world would either be destroyed or saved. Each would be helped or hindered on their way by the other branches of the tree and the outcome would be dependant on whether the halves became united or remained divided.

One passage in particular had given them trouble. More than anything Lucrecia longed to know exactly what it was the ancients were trying to tell them. They spoke of a Crisis from the Sky and of the planet's suffering. And most worrisome, how these things foreshadowed the end of times, as they called it, and the events that would lead to some kind of apocalypse. Or planetary rebirth...once again she was stymied by the Cetra's lack of clarity. The language was difficult to translate, each word having many meanings. And it seemed as if it was in the Cetran character to be ambiguous. Though there was an underlying thread of truth within the tome, and Lucrecia put all she had into finding it. Studying the one verse that gave her the most trouble, with Vincent at her side.

Ten branches there are in the tree of life, and these branches together shall be named the Sephiroth. These branches shall be ruled by Din and Hesed, beyond the infinite one. These names have number beyond knowing. This wisdom we should mark. Ten branches. Ten cycles of one hundred shall be the year of change. Ten cycles as the Crisis burned the planet. In the third cycle of rebirth shall the planet's wound be healed.

In the boundless realms, boundless origin and end, an unabated abyss awaits. Neither good nor evil. Waiting for such a day for Din and Hesed to awaken.

Din is ineffable and shall appear as scintillating flames. Having no end and no beginning. The word of God is within Din, and as it bursts forth it shall return to fire. For Din is the divine hurricane, the flaming sword. A rushing whirlwind.

Hesed is beloved and shall appear as a beacon unto the world. It is the beginning and the end, the alpha and the omega. The voice of God is within Hesed and to her holy waters shall it return. It is the softy flowing tide, the foundation of the earth. The life-giving river.

And together they shall be either the light of the world or its eternal darkness.

They'd studied this part of the legend, pouring over the tables and diagrams inside to make some sense of the riddles within the verse. Lucrecia wasn't even sure what they hoped to accomplish. They'd thought that maybe it would somehow help Gast and the Jenova project in general if they could interpret the vague Cetra writings. Maybe find out what the specimen they'd come to call Jenova really was. Though more than anything, it was something to do to relieve boredom. And it kept Vincent and Lucrecia from succumbing to their feelings or at least, that's what it had started out as. Foolish as they were, this research only drew them closer.

She remembered the first time they'd kissed. When they'd finally had a breakthrough with one of the tables. Lucrecia had worked the math until she'd solved it and when she'd happily told Vincent that the date for the birth of the fated children was within the next few years, it had happened. They had smiled and hugged, and when they pulled away....Joy faded into desire and their lips met, moving with the vast ocean of eternity that had fated their love to be star-crossed.

What started out so innocently became much more. Their passion for each other was endless. They shared more than just the love of ancient writings. Loving the same music and movies, right down to the more imprecise moral values and metaphysical wishes for the future. He was truly her soul mate. Their affair was beyond carnal desire. It was passion that was in harmony with body, mind and soul, and given fate's blessing it could have been more than it was. A fleeting moment of happiness in an otherwise tainted canvas of black despair.

Six months, that was how long she'd kept her love secret. Six blissful months, where all she knew was Vincent's love and the never-ending beating of her heart, the gods above seeming to bless her. She'd even thought of leaving her husband...thought but never awoke enough courage to actually do it, not yet anyway. Lucrecia had been thanking her lucky stars. Her husband hadn't found out, things were going so well. She was happier than she'd ever been in her life.

Then one month, she'd missed her period and she had never been late. Never. Terrified beyond all rational thought, she hid this fact from all she knew. Vincent had claimed to not be afraid of her husband, but Lucrecia knew better. The man was unstable and despite this, Shinra trusted him and would obey any command given by him. After all, he and the President were practically golf buddies.

She'd gone to the local general practitioner, rather than Shinra's highly qualified medical doctors. There was no way for her to trust that anyone at Shinra could keep a secret. Turning to a neutral third party was her only assurance that if what she feared was true, it'd never come to light. She hadn't even trusted Vincent with this knowledge. Whether she feared he'd tell Hojo and force a confrontation or if he'd ask her to do the unspeakable, she'd never know. For once again she mistrusted the only person who was worth her trust in all of this. Had he known, he'd have suggested a more discreet way of finding out if she were with child. Hell, his reputation as a Turk was enough to frighten any Shinra employee into instant silence. But Hojo would find out, he'd know...because somehow he always did. It was that line of thought that started all her troubles. Viewing her deranged husband as some kind of all knowing, ever present god. Hovering above her in furious judgment.

The test had been simple and painless. Piss in a cup and instant results. Well, almost instant. The doctor in Nibelheim was a kindly old man, having practiced there for many, many years. He had delivered most of the town's children, and he harkened back to the days when a doctor wasn't just another scientist--all clinical and impersonal. He was your friend; he cared about his patients and their health. As such, he had a distaste for more modern procedures and attitudes. His clinic was out of date, firmly relegated to the stone age of medicine. He wasn't a rich man; he didn't have the room or money for the more expensive lab equipment of a modern clinic. So he'd had to send her sample out for testing.

When the test had come back, he'd called the young woman's home. Not having any clue that she'd wanted to keep things secret. She'd not been particularly talktive when they'd met. The woman wasn't home but he'd left a message with her husband. Surprised that the man didn't seem happy with the good news. The doctor thought to ask about this but the woman's husband hung up before he could. Shrugging his shoulders, he went about his business. The folks at Shinra were a strange lot.

When Lucrecia had come home that day, her husband had been waiting for her. It was then that her nine-month nightmare began. Carelessly, Hojo had tossed a small stuffed teddy bear at her with a big bow on it that said "You have an angel on the way! Congratulations!". Her eyes widened, and fear seeped into her countenance. He knew...

"Good news, Lucrecia....my dear, dear wife. You're pregnant."

He knew. Gods above he knew. Panic filled her senses. All she could do was wonder how. She said nothing, biting her lip in dreaded anticipation of whatever torture he had in store for her.

"I wonder...how it is you came by this condition? We haven't shared the same bed in months...." He paused for a moment before smirking, his speech languidly piercing in its intent, "Perhaps it's a divine conception..." at this he drew out the word divine with a derisive sneer, "...Or maybe there's something you'd like to confess?"

Hojo's eyes went cold as he approached her. He didn't hit her, didn't flinch in his reserved facade, didn't even try to appear menacing. Didn't have to. The iciness of his tone was enough to chill her blood and when he touched her still flat stomach, she shook visibly. He leaned into her, his breath tickling the nape of her neck. Closing her eyes, all she thought was about the baby growing within her and the fate of her lover. There was no fear for herself. She was a worthless sinner, a pathetic wretch of a woman. If there were one thing she could do, it would be to try her best to protect them. She might deserve judgment, but they didn't.

"You traitorous whore. I know about you....and I know about your lover. And if you know what's good for him and your baby, you'll do exactly as I say."

"Please...please don't hurt him....don't hurt my baby...." she whispered back, unknowingly giving him the keys to controlling her.

"Oh, Don't worry, my dear. I won't hurt them...." he said, his smooth, almost toneless voice was completely devoid of humanity. As he spoke his voice quieted until it was barely audible, "....You know, there are worse things than death, Lucrecia."

He left her with this uncomforting thought, allowing her imagination to play out what exactly he meant by that. Whatever had irrevocably changed her husband had left him unbalanced, and as the days passed she lived in continual fear of finding out what that statement implied. By the time she was six months pregnant she knew without a doubt that Hojo's sanity had teetered over onto the wrong side of crazy. Perhaps it was her affair that had driven him to it or maybe it was something more sinister. Maybe it had something to do with the Jenova project. She didn't know and for a time she sought fruitlessly for an illusive puzzle piece that gave a reason for the gathering madness that stirred within him. There was nothing and so she left such thoughts up to the Gods. One more rambling daydream that meant nothing. Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

She didn't care about her job, Jenova, Hojo, none of that mattered anymore. Even Vincent, she'd broken it off with him, per Hojo's orders. Still, he stayed by her side and her heart died a little each day seeing him and not being able to reach out to him. To scream to the world from the rooftops that he was the one she loved. That the child growing in her womb was his, not Hojo's...without her denial, both would be dead. So she lied. Everyday she lied to herself, to her husband and to Vincent. But her stupid, stubborn heart didn't matter anymore.

One thought slowly took over everything else. One thought that was her only beacon of hope. It was strange that something so small could change everything for her. At one time all she'd had was her job, her work. Touching her pregnant belly, Lucrecia smiled. As long as her child was all right, that was all that mattered. Her nightly mantra complete, she looked out into the night sky.

The ultrasound they'd taken the week before had come back that morning. It had been hard to tell in weeks earlier, but today it was confirmed. It was a boy. She and Vincent...they'd have a son. Our son. Lucrecia smiled, closing her eyes and breathing in the crisp air deeply. In honor of Vincent and the time they'd spent together she'd decided on his name already. She'd call him Sephiroth, after the mystical arms of the tree of life. Because her son would change her world, just like the mythical children in the prophecy would change the world itself. Lucrecia prayed at that moment, for her son's health and for his future. That it be bright and full of promise. Sincerely, she looked forward to seeing him growing up. What would he become? Maybe a scientist or... an artist, like her father had been. Whatever he became, she hoped that he'd be happy most of all. His life filled with more joy than sorrow, somehow defying her own dark fate.

Opening her eyes, she gazed up in wonder at the heavens, pregnant with a thousand blinking stars. "Amazing", she thought. And from the clear midnight sky one pure and impossibly fragile snowflake fell. Like a shooting star... or a fallen angel. She reached out her hand and watched as it landed in her palm. The crystalline form began to melt immediately and Lucrecia slowly closed her hand over it as if to deny inevitability. The unspoken fear of her heart welled within her again. She was terrified that her son's future would melt like that snowflake, consumed by the darkness that gathered ever around her. In the impossibly dark stillness, she choked back a wave of tears as she heard the lock on her door click and the sound of it slowly creaking as it opened. Light from the hallway pooling into her darkened room, and the shadow of Shinra guards reaching out for her, sealing her fate.

Her fears came to fruition that very night, as she reached that same hand out, stained with her own blood. She blindly grasped the air, as if she could claw through it to reach her son. The baby wailed in fright as an armed guard took him from the lab, holding him roughly and without love. Tears of frustration fell and Lucrecia cursed Hojo. Her son...That man she'd called husband had untimely ripped him from her womb. She called to Hojo and she'd tearfully begged him to let her see Sephiroth. Her choked sobs fell on deaf ears and she was left to bleed to death on the cold operating table in his lab. Bereft of hope for herself and her son. Her hand fell as if in slow motion, limply dangling over the edge of her deathbed. And the words he'd said to her so many months ago resounded constantly in her mind. There are worse things than death...The full horror of that statement had never been clearer. Hojo had punished her for her affair but he wasn't content to let her suffer alone. No, that would be too easy. He punished her lover and her son, turning them into monsters while she could do nothing but sit by and watch and weep.

As she'd recounted this, she was pained by the memory and the odd look of disconsolate hurt on her son's face. Perhaps she should have started with something more familiar to him but she'd always felt it was best to start at the beginning. She was worried how he'd take it and had watched his face carefully. Like his father, the true measure of his feelings lay mostly hidden. What little flickered to the surface were vague impressions of emotions. Fear. Anguish. Rage. Despair. All welded seamlessly together into a single expression that raced through his eyes in a matter of seconds.

During the telling, she had to stop multiple times because she had continually broken down in tears. Sephiroth wasn't much help. His upbringing, courtesy of Hojo, had made him wary of such displays of emotion and unable to deal with them. He hadn't cried since the age of five. A detail Lucrecia had pointed out, amongst many others. She knew him to be doubtful of who she was. She told him everything. Told him things he barely remembered, things he knew, things he fought hard to forget, things he'd told no one else about.

In almost one rapid-fire breath she recounted every moment she could remember. For despite being dead, she'd always been by his side, watching him. Sometimes with pride, sometimes with sorrow but she was always there. Reminding him of the time when the storm tangled up the wires when he was five and the power went out. He'd tried to escape, it was the first time, and Hojo had caught him. Beat him so badly afterwards that he was bedridden for a week. But it had been worth it; he remembered that, because he'd gotten his first look at the world outside that night. It was then he'd promised himself never to cry again, as he lay in his hospital bed. His body one small walking bruise and as he vowed, his soul became as his body was. Only, this bruise never healed.

Or the time in the train depot when he was fourteen, when he sat down on the bench and found it warm. How he wondered who had been sitting there before him. Watching the crisp autumn leaves as they skittered across the train platform. The well of joy he'd felt at that moment, because he was free from Hojo. He'd become a solider, the best ever and Hojo would never be able to lay a hand on him again. No one would.

The most convincing bit of memory she recalled was a night he'd nearly forgotten in Wutai. He was eighteen and he'd been out wandering late at night when he shouldn't have. What did he care anyway? No one could touch him now. And as he walked down the starlit path, a fox appeared out of the bushes. Its reddish brown fur was dulled by the dark blue of night. The animal had looked up at the general with wide and shining eyes. Eyes as black as night, as black as coal...as black as his soul, he'd thought. And before he could let out a breath, it disappeared back into the underbrush. This memory not even Jenova herself was aware of he'd hidden it so well.

All together...These things, he'd never told anyone. He'd held them in his heart and locked them away. They were those few happy memories he had. Jenova had helped to suppress those brief remembrances. What use was happiness to someone like him? He didn't want to feel this...It had been obliterated because he didn't want to remember. To remember would mean he'd have to feel the happiness of those memories and happiness was painful for all the emptiness it offered. Yet the woman knew these memories. Those things he'd buried for so long and no one knew of them. Except for himself and Jenova. And when he looked at her this time there was acceptance. For a moment, his mother merely stared at him, too stunned to react and when she regained enough sense to respond, it was with a flood of tears.

Sephiroth's eyes went wide, clearly perplexed by her reaction. It was entirely illogical to him for her to react in this way. Wasn't his acceptance of who she was what she wanted? He looked over at Ifalna helplessly. The Cetra smiled and shook her head gently, suppressing an amused laugh. She looked up at him, her eyes twinkling, and motioned that he should hold her. Mouthing the words--Hold her-- when he didn't immediately obey. Still, all he did was stare at her, eyebrows knit in a look of pure befuddlement and a tinge of fear. Frustrated, Ifalna once again guided his hand so that it rested on Lucrecia's back and motioned for him to move the other. Effectively teaching him how to be more human. He shook his head in denial. This show of affection was beyond him and he mouthed at her, "Why?"

In a hushed whisper, she answered, "It'll come in useful someday...very, very soon..."

His face went dark but it quickly passed as he obeyed. Holding the shaking woman in his arms and feeling stupid and awkward, he gazed pensively out into space. This whole business made him uncomfortable and he really wondered what the point of it was. He held his peace and his tongue, as it had only gotten him into trouble with the Cetra. She would tell him what she wanted when she was ready and Sephiroth was content to wait, not wanting to risk a repeat of her earlier punishment. He'd always learned fast.

He heard the Cetra shift next to him and he looked over at her, annoyed at the way she looked at him. Like she could see right into him. Why was she staring at him like that? With a look that held such mystery, perhaps the knowledge of what heaven wanted with him. This second chance he was given would undoubtedly come with a price. They wanted something from him and either they didn't know how to ask or it wasn't time yet. It silently irked him and he glared at the Cetra, hoping to put her off at least for the moment. Bad enough that he was forced to endure such loathsome human contact, even if it was his mother. His awkwardness at this was embarrassing enough and having someone watch him, with obvious humor, was nearly unbearable. He was about to say something, to snap at her again but before his mouth even opened, she'd cut him off.

"You think you know..." the Cetra spoke to him, her mild voice echoing within the confines of his mind, "What you are...what's to come...." she paused, letting her last words fall with slow reverence, "...You've only just begun."

A/N--Note. Credit for Lucrecia's last name, Levrai, which I used in last chapter, goes to Chocobo Goddess. Ask her before you use it!