Title: SURVIVING THE DARKNESS

Characters/Pairings: Vincent/Diana
Rating: M
Warnings/Spoilers: Adult themes. Implied violence. Sexual situations.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything, anyone or anyplace.

Please read A/N before reading story.

A/N: I know many B&B fans do not like Diana in Vincent's life. When the creators killed Catherine and brought Diana into Vincent's life, the tunnels were changed forever. While I loved the faerie tale romance of the beautiful Catherine Chandler and the poor Vincent ostracized from society like a beast, I found Diana promised something more substantial. After the harsh reality of losing Catherine, I felt that Vincent would never again be able to return to a relationship based on a dream. I believe Vincent's ability to open his life to another was Catherine's greatest legacy and the refusal to use the love she had taught him to feel would have truly been a tragedy.

Therefore, I decided to give Vincent the chance to find a new life that he wasn't allowed to do before production shut down. I hope you will give the story a chance but I will understand if you don't approve of it. I am posting the first chapter of a long story I have written. However, I will not post any further chapters unless I receive requests to see the rest of the work. I do not want to post anything that the community does not want to read and will respect a lack of desire to read more along this line. Raven

CHAPTER 1

DARK ANNIVERSARIES

Diana Bennett sat in the darkened loft. She was glad the case she had been working on was finished ... glad that no one else had been hurt before they had been able to put the culprit behind bars. But the pace had been grueling and she was tired. She had come home, taken a long hot shower and wrapped her athletic body in a huge terrycloth bathrobe.

She sat in the dim light that came through the raised blinds of the clerestory windows. Her long red hair was loose. She periodically ran a brush through it as it dried naturally. It was so long and thick that it would take a considerable amount of time to dry this way, but she was too tired to hold a hairdryer. Besides, there was no hurry. She had all night and all day tomorrow.

Her dark blue eyes snapped up to the windows when she heard a tapping coming from her roof. She sighed deeply, not really wanting to see her visitor tonight. She looked up and saw Vincent's massive form blocking an entire window as he knelt down to peer into the loft. The leonine features she had come to love over the past several months were hidden in the shadows but she knew his sharp eyes were watching her as she remained motionless on the couch for a long time.

She could sense the silent plea of his desire to see her tonight just as she knew that he could sense her reluctance to approach him.

Having a heightened empathic ability was a great asset to her job as a police investigator. With that, her training and her own finely honed intuition, she was one of the best behavioral criminologists on the East Coast. But that ability had not translated well into her personal life. In the past, she had trouble dealing with the men in her life because of her ability to sense their emotions. And with someone like Vincent, who had the same characteristic, the two-way link was sometimes too much to handle.

He tapped on the window again, his impatience evident both in the feelings she sensed from him and the more aggressive rapping on the glass. She continued to sit almost another full minute before she rose with a weary sigh. She was not looking forward to this encounter.

Vincent had watched Diana for quite a while before he first tapped on her window. As he knelt watching her, he had been assaulted by her stormy mood tonight and reflected on how he had come to be on Diana's roof.

V D V D V D V D V D V D

Vincent had fallen deeply in love with Catherine Chandler the moment he found her in Central Park. She had been attacked, her face brutally slashed, bleeding to death. He had saved her life. Between them had been a connection so strong that he could feel every one of Catherine's emotions as they coursed through her.

It was that ability that had enabled him to find her any time her investigative work with the District Attorney's office brought her into danger. It was that curse that had driven him over and over to kill to save her life.

For over two years, the duality of Vincent's human soul incased in an animalistic body had warred between being Catherine's lover or her protector. His huge strength and claw-like hands had time-after-time been the part of him that Catherine had needed to survive. But his overwhelming desire had been to be her lover. That was a role he had been afraid to take – because of his past – because of his physical body – maybe because he felt Catherine had seen him kill once too often to be able to trust him completely, despite her statements to the contrary.

Finally the strain on Vincent's personality had been too great and the dark nature of his beast side overrode the gentleness of his human half. While he was lost in that darkness, Catherine had come to him. Without his knowledge, she had taken the initiative and become his lover. And it was that total commitment to him that had saved him.

But, from that moment on, his connection to her had been severed.

Because of the lost bond, he had not been able to find her and rescue her when she had been kidnapped. She was held captive until she had delivered their child into the hands of an evil man who wanted to take the unique child and turn him into a killing machine. Vincent had finally found Catherine, dying. She had told him that they had been lovers and that they had a son. The child had been taken from her and she had been given a lethal dose of drugs. Vincent had thought his world was over.

Then Diana had started investigating Catherine's death. She had tracked down a grief-filled, vengeful Vincent who wanted no part of the lovely red-haired policewoman. But as Diana had helped him locate his son, she had also given him a reason to continue living. For Jacob's Naming Ceremony, on an impulse, Vincent had invited Diana to come Below. He had proudly shown off his magical world that lay hidden below the City of New York.

Slowly, carefully, the two had become friends. As the healing had taken place, more and more of his empathic ability had returned. The return of his empathic sense that been welcomed since he had lived with it all of his life. And, he had found over the months, when he was around Diana their abilities seemed to magnify each other. Although he never expected to have the total tie with anyone as he had had with Catherine, he had become comfortable with his ability to echo Diana's feelings.

But tonight was different. Tonight she was not welcoming. Tonight she had suddenly put up barriers and felt unapproachable as she finally came onto the roof.

He cocked his head and looked at her with a question in his ice-blue eyes.

"You do not want me here tonight?"

She sighed and looked out at the city as they stood by the half-wall that made up one side of the rooftop she had claimed as a balcony.

"Tonight I don't want anyone," she answered after a pause.

He stared at her for some time before he replied, "But especially me."

She sighed and looked up at him. He seemed like a mythical creature come to life in the center of New York. Every time she looked at him, his features, his bearing, his massive presence – both his personality and his physicality – caused her to catch her breath in wonder. Even when he was brooding as he had been in recent days, he was the most important single facet of her life. But when he was brooding his darkness seemed to batter her own spirit.

"I'm just tired," she answered lamely.

They both turned back to look out at the city. They were silent for a long time.

"Perhaps ... I should ... go," he suggested.

She looked up at him. He was surprised to see that the movement sent a tear sliding down her cheek. Gently he brushed his forefinger across her cheek and removed it.

"What has made you so sad, Diana?" he asked.

She shook her head and looked down again, refusing to answer him. There was a soft rustle in the stillness. When she looked up, he was gone.

V D V D V D V D V D V D*

For two weeks, Vincent did not visit Diana and she did not seek out his presence. She knew he was staying away because it was what she wanted, but that did not make his absence easier to accept. Next week would be the first anniversary of Catherine's death. It would also be his son Jacob's first birthday.

A delegation from Below had come to visit Diana earlier in the day. Rebecca and Olivia had grown up with Vincent and considered him to be a brother. Jamie had come with them. She was younger but also thought of herself as his kid sister.

Diana had been pleasantly surprised to find all three of them in the elevator when it had made its way to her loft apartment. She had quickly invited them in for tea. After several minutes of aimless chatter, Olivia put her tea cup down on the coffee table.

"Diana, you know we haven't just come to chit-chat," she started.

Diana smiled. "You're more than welcome, but I did figure you had a purpose."

"It's Vincent," Rebecca stated.

"And Jacob," Jamie added.

"Is something wrong?" Diana asked with concern.

"Vincent is becoming so ..." Rebecca looked to Olivia.

"Depressed, I guess," Olivia finished. "The closer it gets to ... you know."

Diana nodded. "Yes, I know."

"Anyway, we want to have a big first birthday party for Jacob," Olivia continued. "But Vincent won't even discuss it."

"Has he ..." Rebecca looked hesitant. "Has he spoken to you about ... The Day?"

Diana regarded the three women for a few moments and then sighed. "I've ... kind of ... kept myself away from Vincent the last few days. I'm having trouble on my case and ... being around him ..." She shrugged.

"We don't know what to do about the party," Jamie stated.

"I think you should go ahead and have it," Diana told them. "Vincent will probably be happy to let you have Jacob for the evening."

"You don't think he'll be upset if we have a party on the day ... when Catherine ..." Tears welled in Jamie's eyes.

Rebecca patted her back. "I can't believe Vincent would want Jacob to suffer for something he can't control. It's not his fault his mother died the same day he was born."

Olivia nodded in agreement.

The subject was changed to more lighthearted happenings. They finished their tea and then the three women told Diana goodbye and left.

Now Diana stood on her roof, remembering the conversation. It was difficult for her. For many months she had felt that she and Vincent had been growing closer and closer. His hand had begun to linger on her back when he was escorting her around the tunnels. He would stand beside her on the roof, his arm protectively around her. He would even enter her loft so they could sit and talk late into the night.

Gradually, she had realized she had gone from just being attracted to him to being hopelessly in love with him. And now he was retreating back into the grief and despair of a year ago. She didn't know if she was up to competing with a dead paragon again. She didn't know if she was strong enough to pull Vincent from the depths of his darkness again. She wasn't even sure that Vincent realized she was more than a friend ... or would be if he only asked.

V D V D V D V D V D V D

Vincent stood in the shadows, watching Diana as she looked out at the city. It was only when he realized she had tears streaming noiselessly down her cheek that he approached her.

"Diana, it pains me to see you like this. Will you allow me to share your distress?"

She looked up into his face. He saw only the openness of possibilities, then her eyes clouded over and she turned her head away.

Her shoulders shook as her sobbing became audible. Vincent had never seen Diana breakdown like this. He was afraid to approach her but knew he could not leave her as she was. Slowly he moved closer, careful not to touch her, but close enough that the slightest movement would give her the comfort of his arms.

"Tell me about Catherine," she said after quite some time.

The request surprised him.

"Your investigation probably taught you more about Catherine than I myself know," he told her.

There was a strange delay as she stared at Vincent for a long moment.

Finally she said, "Until the minute I saw your face, I thought I knew everything there was to know about Catherine Chandler. Oh, I knew there was this mysterious Vincent that somehow caused her to keep secrets from the people she would've otherwise shared her romance with. But as far as the person ... her motivations ... her dreams and beliefs ..." She shook her head. "I would have bet everything I owned that I knew Catherine Chandler."

She had looked out at the city as she talked. Now she turned her tear-streaked face toward him. The pain in her eyes caused him actual physical discomfort.

"Until I saw your face." She turned away again. "In that instant, I knew I had all the answers to all the questions I'd been asking myself ... about you ... about Catherine ... about the investigation."

Her sobbing became harder. When she whispered the next words, Vincent could barely hear them.

"And all the answers to all my own dreams."

Vincent was shocked to silence. He listened to her soft crying unable to make himself move. After several moments, Diana sighed deeply and seemed to have more control of herself.

"What are you thinking, Diana?" he asked watching her. "Can you tell me what is causing you such turmoil? Will you tell me what's in your heart?"

She looked up at him and smiled sadly, like a loving parent about to disappoint a child.

"What do you have to barter for my soul, Vincent? Yours is buried with Catherine."

Without another word she turned and went back into her loft.

It was a long time before Vincent realized she was gone. Twice he turned to leave, but finally, he walked over to the door that led to the loft and opened it.

Diana was sitting on the couch, her knees pulled up, her chin resting on them. He dropped to one knee in front of her.

"What would you know of my life with Catherine?" he asked.

There was no answer for a long time.

Finally she asked, "Why does her memory make you feel guilty when you're drawn closer to me?"

He cocked his head and looked at her. "I don't know what you mean."

A look of resignation settled on her face.

"Diana," he pleaded, "I really do not understand what you mean."

She studied him for a moment.

Avoiding his eyes, she spoke, "About three weeks ago, you were on my roof. I was stuck on my case. There'd been another child kidnapped. I was really upset. You put your arms around me. You let me lean on your strength. But when I opened myself empathically to you for comfort, all I could feel around you was guilt. It made me ashamed that I needed your support."

Tears pricked his eyes.

Softly he said, "All my life I was led to believe that I could never have a ... normal ... a physical ... relationship with a ... human woman ..."

"Human!" she blazed as she spun to him. "How dare you talk as if you are anything less than human. How dare you let anyone else do it. You are the most human being I have ever known."

He smiled tenderly at her fierce defense of him.

"A woman," he corrected. "With Catherine, I refused to accept the fact that she and I could share a full life. It wasn't until she was dying in my arms that I learned we had ever made love."

Diana reached out to touch one of his hands, but stopped. Slowly she settled her arm back around her legs. "You didn't know?"

He shook his head. "She came to me while I was consumed by darkness. I would've never dared touch her if I'd been in control. It took me being completely submerged in the darkness before I would allow her to have a physical relationship with me."

He held one of his hands out, palm up, inviting her to hold it. She didn't.

"I don't know what would've happened had she lived," he admitted softly.

He lowered his hand and rose to his feet. He paced back and forth in front of her. After several passes, he stopped and looked down at her.

"It took her our whole relationship to convince me that a physical liaison was possible. I denied her that ... our entire time together. How can I give that to another?"

She rose slowly, reached out and barely touched his cheek with her fingertips. "From my first lover I learned tenderness. From another, humor. From a third, devotion. Should I keep those parts of love from my next lover because he wasn't the one who taught them to me?"

Vincent stared at her, unable to answer her question.

Diana went back up to the roof. Vincent rushed after her. He turned her around and looked at her with a dazed expression. His massive hand tenderly cupped the back of her head and drew her tightly against his chest. His arms cradled her as if she were made of the most delicate crystal. She could sense an unfamiliar flood of tenderness from him. For a long time, she simply allowed herself to be held, drinking in the luxury of his affection. Gradually she opened up her own emotions so he could feel her acknowledgement and appreciation of his action.

Finally, she leaned back so she could see his face.

"I don't understand," she confessed. "Why now?"

"Because now ... I realized that ... your words are true," he told her. "We can't withhold what we know of love from each other. I can't say what will happen. I don't know that I'll be able to open my life to you as you deserve. But I do wish to try."

TBC