Happy Mothers' Day, everyone! This is a gift for a very dear friend of mine, suddenlysomewherethatsgreen. Since I joined this fandom back in February, she's been supportive, caring, and pretty much like a mother to me. So what better to write than a fic about Alana, a character she has written an entire chapter fic about? (Read it here if you haven't already: s/13016501/1/A-child-of-the-street) This was an idea I just came up with yesterday when brainstorming with a friend, and I thought it would be interesting, both to read and to write! So enjoy, my dears!

Alana had many regrets throughout her life. She certainly regretted working at the Gutter, that was for sure. She regretted not asking anyone else for help. Most of all, she regretted leaving her newborn son almost immediately giving birth to him. She barely got to meet her little boy before she passed away, and grief tore at her heart daily.

This grief tortured her now, even though her death had been years ago. Seymour was six years old now and had become quite a loner, often sitting alone, picking at the weeds that grew in the sidewalk cracks, as he was doing at that moment.

Alana wished with all her heart she could break the invisible wall between her and her precious son. She wanted to go over to him, to play with him like a mother should, but she was trapped.

Mr. Stanley approached the child, and Alana watched him closely. Though she had only spoken to him on a few occasions, the kind man had allowed Seymour to live in the home since Alana had died. Alana would forever be grateful to Mr. Stanley. She had barely known him, and yet he had shown both her and her child mercy and generosity.

Mr. Stanley crouched down to talk to Seymour. "Hey, kid. Don't you wanna go play tag with everyone else?" He gestured toward a crowd of boys, laughing and shouting at each other as they chased one another around the outdoor area.

Seymour shook his head. "No thank you, sir. I'm doing just fine over here. The other boys don' like me anyway. They won' lemme play."

"Is everything okay, kid?"

"Yes, sir," Seymour replied, but Alana could tell that he was lying.

"Seymour, you're not a very good liar." Mr. Stanley sat down beside the little boy. Alana smiled to herself, despite her still-lingering pain.

Seymour looked at Mr. Stanley with sadness in his watery blue eyes. "I just wish I could talk to my ma," he confessed, and Alana felt her heart shatter.

Mr. Stanley raised his eyebrows. "Why's that? Ya never really knew 'er."

"I know, sir, but if she were here, I wouldn't be stuck here. She woulda taken me home. Nobody'd leave me out, because she'd be only my mama and she'd love me best, 'cause I'd be the only one." The little boy hugged his knees.

Alana was ready to cry. Her poor, sweet little boy was so alone. Did I make the right decision to go to the Home when I was about to have him? She pushed the thought away. No. If I hadn't, he wouldn't have a home at all.

Still, Alana felt horrible for her little boy. He had been right- she would have showered him in affection and taken as good care of him as she was able, no matter what the cost.

Oh, my sweet Seymour! I'm so sorry!

The bell above the shop's door rang out, as it always did when it opened. A middle aged man slunk inside Alana smiled as Seymour entered after him, going through that door for the first time since Gravis Mushnik had decided to hire him. It had been five years since he had broken down during free time at the home, and he had gotten bigger. He now wore large glasses, and his hair had grown wild and tangled due to lack of grooming.

"Okay, kid, you're gonna sleep under the counter," Mr. Mushnik announced, much to Alana's disgust. He's a boy, not a dog! she thought indignantly, but nobody would hear her if she spoke aloud.

"Yes, sir," Seymour chirped. He looked pleased with his sleeping place, which would have confused Alana had she not seen his bedroom in the home. He had slept on a pile of blankets on the floor. At least he's used to being down there, and doesn't know how uncomfortable it is compared to a mattress.

Alana admired the shop. She had been there before, two years earlier, when Seymour had first come into the shop, but it entranced her all the same. The place was full of all kinds of flowers and plants. Alana remembered with a little smile how Seymour used to pick dandelions and talk to them.

Alana looked at Mr. Mushnik. He didn't seem like the type of person who would care for a child as if it was his own, but Alanaa guessed he was better than nothing.

Seymour is going to like it here. He's home now, and he'll have a better life here. Alana examined Mr. Mushnik again, who look disapproving as questions shot out of the enthusiastic preeteen boy's mouth. Or at least, I hope so.

Alana continued to observe Seymour as he grew, By the time he was fifteen, Seymour was too big to fit under the counter anymore, so Mr. Mushnik had reluctantly agreed to let the scruffy teenager move into the basement. He had found an old, discarded bed in an alleyway, and it took him a whole day to move it downstairs. Seymour quickly made himself at home, collecting various types of interesting little plants and displaying them in his little dwelling.

Alana had known since Seymour had first stepped foot inside Mushnik's that Seymour would grow to love plants. He had seemed so interested to learn everything about them when he began his work. How long has it been now? Eleven years? Time really flies.

One day, a lovely young woman found herself inside the shop. Alana immediately recognized her. It's Marianne Fulquard's daughter! Audrey! The girl had been very young when Alana died, but obviously she had grown. It was amazing to Alana, how much of a coincidence that the child of her good friend would wander into the shop where her own son resided.

The girl looked mystified at all the lovely floral displays that filled the shop. She seemed almost enchanted, staring at her surroundings.

"Hello?" came Seymour's voice from across the room. Audrey spun around to face him, and the haste of it all caused Seymour to drop the vase of roses he was holding. With a gasp, Seymour scrambled to clean it up. Audrey hurried over to him.

"Oh my gosh! I am so, so sorry!" Seymour looked ashamed of himself as he continued picking up the glass shards. Audrey knelt down to help him.

"No no no, let me," she insisted.

"No, please don't. It's my fault, I-" Seymour was interrupted by Mushnik's grizzly man was just as grumpy as he had been eleven years ago, when Seymour first started working for him.

"Krelborn!" he yelled, and Alana saw Seymour tense in fear. Mushnik emerged from the back room. "What did you break this time?" Audrey nervously stood up, trembling.

"Sir. He didn't do it. I broke the vase. I'll pay for it." Alana was both shocked and pleased as Audrey stood up for the young man, still struggling to gather the broken pieces.

"Ma'am, that's very kind of you, but-"

It was Seymour's turn to interrupt. "Sir, it's not true! Don't make her pay for it, sir! Just..." He trailed off.

"Just clean it up, Krelborn," Mushnik snarled in response. Seymour rushed to fetch a broom as Mushnik turned to her. "Will that be all?"

Audrey hesitated before she answered. "Uhh… no." The girl turned her gaze toward Seymour. "No, I'm not finished."

The shop was quiet for a few minutes after that, which was rather amusing to Alana. She liked Audrey already; she had insisted on paying for the vase, even though Seymour was the one who had broken it, and she seemed like a truly sweet girl.

Finally, the girl's voice broke the silence. "What's your name?" Seymour looked astonished that Audrey had spoken to him.

"Seymour. Krelborn." Alana smiled, thinking about how Marianne would have recognized the name immediately.

"It's nice to meet you, Seymour."

"And yours?" he returned after another moment of silence.

"...Audrey." She was averting her gaze, which Alana thought to be interesting.

"Could I… help you find anything?" Alana couldn't help but laugh. Even though nobody could hear her, she tended to stay quiet when she watched over her son, so as not to miss anything. She had broken her own silence, which surprised her. Still, her son's awkwardness was rather amusing to Alana.

She didn't answer his question directly, but instead fingered a dying flower.

"These poor things… did nobody want them?"

Seymour's smile left his face, which disappointed Alana. She hadn't seen him smile since he was much younger, and now his expression was merely shy.

"I guess not."

Is he thinking I didn't want him? Alana worried. Of course I wanted you, sweetheart! I just couldn't be with you.

"It's a shame. I think they're fantastic."

The shop went quiet again for another few moments. Then Seymour spoke.

"Are you looking for something specific? Do you have a favorite flower?"

"Do you?"

Seymour stopped for a moment, then answered, "Carnations."

Alana felt her heartbeat quicken. They're his favorites. They were my favorites too.

"Carnations?"

Audrey stopped again. Alana thought she must be thinking about his response.

"I think… I like them too," she responded after a heartbeat. Her smile mirrored Seymour's, and Alana couldn't help but grin too. She didn't have a face to grin with, but her spirit grinned for her.

Audrey turned and picked up the roses Seymour had knocked over. "I'll take these."

Seymour raised his eyebrows in surprise. Audrey spoke again.

"They've been here a while, haven't they?"

"Our arrangement consultant quit last week," Mushnik explained.

"Oh well sir, I'm looking…" Audrey paused, then continued. "I think I could be of help, sir. I absolutely adore flowers. Plants as well. Anything green, really. I've been working in retail since I was 15... " She paused for a moment, then continued. "And I live right across the street, so I'd never be late. I would really love an interview, sir, if you have the time."

"Please, Gravis," Alana whispered, knowing full well he wouldn't be able to hear her. "She's a good girl. And Seymour could really use a friend."

The old man stood up, and his next words both pleased and surprised Alana. "Don't bother. That's good enough for me." He held out his hand. "Gravis Mushnik."

Audrey reached out to shake it. "Audrey."

"Tell you what, you show up tomorrow at 9:00, the job is yours," Proposed Mushnik. Audrey looked pleased.

"Sure, sir, Bright and early." Audrey began to leave the shop, but stopped when she was just about to open the door.

"Oh wait, my roses." Alana had been wondering how long it would take for Audrey to remember the flowers she had decided to purchase. She ambled over to the counter and gave Mushnik enough money to pay for them as Seymour intently tied a bow around them with red ribbon. Audrey took the roses and left the shop.

Alana laughed to herself as she remembered something Marianne had written in a letter: "If you do end up keeping them, like you swear you are, maybe our children could be friends. "Maybe"? No, old friend. I think they are going to be friends.