All the More Sweeter
Chapter 1
Vincent was sitting at his table, writing in his journal. His hair fell forward over his face, which was concealed in the shadows from the candlelight. "There was a time when I would have felt you coming; felt the warmth from your heart as you came nearer to me. Now, I must sit and wait for a messenger who tells me you are on your way." Vincent tossed down his pen and turned his face away from Catherine silhouetted in the door of his chamber. Silently, she went to him and turned his face to hers. She lifted his chin so she could meet his eyes.
"Vincent, our Bond is a wonderful thing. But, it is only one gift that has come from our love. There are so many others. And you deserve every one of them." He stood abruptly and walked to the other end of the chamber. He stared unseeing at the bookcase. "All you have to do is open your arms and accept them." She walked slowly to him and touched his shoulder gently. "Open your arms, Vincent."
He sighed deeply and bit back a sob. Since he had awakened just over two weeks ago after nearly three weeks of a restorative coma, it seemed that all he did was cry or want to. He still felt so weak and his memory was awful. Everything was so confused. He was so confused, he hurt so much and the only thing that made him feel better was standing quietly behind him, waiting patiently, loving him. How did he deserve her? He turned and hunched his shoulders, lifting his arms a little. "Catherine," he whispered. She stepped closer and snuggled into his broad chest. Her arms snaked around his waist and held him tightly. "Such a gift, my sweet Catherine."
"Yes," she murmured looking up at him. She lifted her hand and traced the tear running down his cheek. "Such a gift." She settled her head again upon his shoulder.
After a few moments, he whispered into her hair. "My apologies. I must sit."
"Of course," she said and stepped away, guiding him to his vacated chair where he sat heavily. "You are still weak, Vincent. I forget. I'm sorry."
"It is of no matter. I will soon recover. If not you, then Father will see to that." He reached for her hand. "You had something to tell me?"
She took his hand and moved closer, putting her other arm around his neck and laying her cheek against his head. "I do. I hardly know where to begin."
"Like any good storyteller, begin at the beginning." They both smiled.
Catherine took a deep breath and began to speak into his golden mane of hair. "I received some news today. Something that I've wanted in the deepest part of my heart, but hardly ever dreamed of. Something I never thought could ever happen."
"What is it?" he asked.
"Oh, Vincent." She walked around to face him and cupped his face with her hands. "I'm going to have a baby." She watched as if in slow-motion as his eyes lit up and then his face fell.
"Congratulations," he said shortly, looking down at his hands clenched in his lap. He wanted to jump up, roar, run – but he was still too weak.
Immediately, Catherine recognized what he was thinking. "Vincent. Oh, no. No, Vincent. This is another gift of our love. It is my gift to you."
"How?"
She drew his head to her again, pressing his ear to her chest, to her heart. She began to speak and slowly, listening to the familiar sound of her heartbeat, he heard her words and knew they were the truth.
"I know you don't remember anything from that night in the cave. You had taken your leave of the others, but Father and I were still Above. When we came to your chamber, you were already gone. Mouse and Pascal had followed you. Everyone was worried. Pascal came back to find me and Father – he took us to you. We could hear you, in the dark. You were in such pain, believing Paracelsus's lies. Father and Pascal both tried to stop me, but you needed me. And I needed you." She paused and brushed the tears from her eyes. She could still hear the growls and roars coming from that cave in the dark.
He tightened his arm around her waist and pressed hisear tighter to her breast. "Were you afraid? I'm sorry. I - "
"No!" she said firmly. "I wasn't afraid. You needed me. You were in such pain." She kissed the top of his head. "I walked in and I could feel and hear that your pain changed to fear. You didn't know me at first. You ran at me, raised your arm. I screamed your name and you stopped. You looked at me. You saw me. And then, you collapsed.
"I fell with you. I landed with my head on your chest. I could hear...nothing. I felt...nothing. I became desperate." She gasped a little at the memory of his strong chest, silent. "I told you – I told you, 'Not without me.' Then I did the only thing I could."
He raised his head and looked up at her. "What did you do, Catherine?"
"I kissed you Vincent." She stared down into his blue eyes. "I kissed you the way I've wanted to kiss you for more than two years. I kissed you the way a woman kisses a man she so passionately loves."
"Catherine."
She took his hand and pressed it to her abdomen. "We loved, Vincent. There is a child."
Chapter 2
Vincent strode into Father's chamber and paced around the stacks of books. "I must speak to you."
"What is it, Vincent?" Father put down the book he was reading and looked at his son, concerned at his state.
"I know now that it was Paracelsus here – he told me things, many things that I now believe were lies. But I must be certain."
"What do you want to know?" Vincent stopped and looked at his Father.
"You'll tell me?"
"Anything."
Vincent sank into a chair and looked at the ceiling of the chamber. "When he was here, when I believed he was you, he told me of my birth."
"Yes."
"He said that Anna Pater was my natural mother. That her husband conceived me using medical experiments. That I was not born. I ripped my way out of her body and killed her. I was born of blood."
"Vincent, every child is born of blood, in one way or another. But that is beside the point. None of that is true."
"What is true?"
"Anna did conceive once, but she miscarried at three months. After her recovery, she was walking the streets at night and heard a mewing sound in the dumpster behind St. Vincent's hospital. She found you."
Vincent looked at Father.
"She brought you to me and we cared for you together. She kept you in her chamber. She loved you from the first. She wanted a child so badly." Father levered himself out of his chair and began to pace himself. "It was then that John began to change. He began to view you as his and began to make plans for you; plans that turned my blood cold. And Anna's. She gave you back to me. She didn't think it was helping John to have you there. Even then, she still loved him." Father stopped his pacing and looked at Vincent. "He poisoned her in a glass of wine. Her death was ugly, but she still proclaimed her love for him, until she finally died."
"That is why..."
"Why we exiled him. Yes." Father sank back into his chair.
"I see."
Father leaned over the table and reached his hand towards his son. "He wanted you. He said you were his. I said, no. You were Anna's, if you were anyone's, and she had left you to me. That is why he hated me. He wanted to turn you into – I don't know what and he's hated me for preventing that."
Vincent stood and walked slowly to a pile of books over Father's desk and stared at them blankly. "So then, I did not kill my mother."
"Vincent, I have no idea. I don't know who or what your natural mother was. I only know you."
"So, it is possible."
"What is possible?"
Vincent turned and went to Father. He looked down at him and clasped both of his shoulders. "Catherine is with child, Father. My child."
"What? How can this - ? I mean, I had no idea..."
"Neither do I. I have no memory. She says it happened that night, in the cave."
"Dear God!"
"I know." They both stared at each other in silence until Vincent clenched Father's shoulders a bit tighter. "Father. We need you. We need help. We don't know what to do."
Catherine sat on Vincent's bed, tapping her foot and clasping and unclasping her hands. She worried what Father would say, but had to agree with Vincent's suggestion that they ask him for help. She hadn't thought any further than telling Vincent. She had come directly from the hospital. She never wanted to go Above again.
She started up as the two men entered the chamber. Vincent lowered the tapestry that hung over the doorway. He had never done that before.
"If we keep our voices low, we can be assured of our privacy, Catherine," Father said.
She nodded looking at him. Vincent came around and stood next to her. Father looked from one to the other. Finally, he moved and embraced her. "Oh, my dear girl!"
She returned his embrace and laughed in relief, smiling at Vincent. He smiled back. Father released her and turned to Vincent. "There is much to discuss."
Vincent pulled his table closer to the bed and guided his father to the chair. He and Catherine sat on the edge of the bed. He couldn't help touching her. Father drew a sheet of paper towards him and uncapped Vincent's pen. "We must plan."
"Plan?" Catherine asked.
"Yes. So many things. I don't know where to begin."
"I want her to come Below."
"I want to live Below." Vincent and Catherine spoke together.
"Are you sure?" Father asked.
"Yes," Catherine said, looking at Vincent. "My work seems meaningless, all my friendships pale in comparison to my life here."
"You do bring us a lot as a Helper, Catherine," Vincent reminded her.
"My heart is in these tunnels and chambers, Vincent. Please."
"What about your work? You do important things."
"For every criminal I put in jail, there are ten more files on my desk waiting. It never ends. I want to raise our baby in a peaceful world."
"Well, I agree," Father said interrupting the lover's quarrel.
"What?" Vincent was astounded.
"Think of the baby, Vincent. It should not be born Above. It may not be able to live Above. Catherine should be here, where it is safe."
"Yes, I agree. I cannot feel her as I once did. I would feel more at ease if she was nearby. I just did not expect you to agree to have her here."
"Catherine is a daughter to me. Especially now."
"Thank-you, Father." Catherine squeezed his hand.
Catherine stayed below for several hours, planning with Father and Vincent, talking over ideas. Then, reluctantly, she went back home. Vincent did not accompany her, she wanted him to stay Below where he was safe. He was still weak and had not ventured Above as yet. She carried a list in Father's meticulous handwriting of things to do. First and foremost, she was to contact Dr. Peter Alcott for an appointment. Secondly, she had to quit her job.
She stood on the balcony, Vincent's balcony as she thought of it, cupping her hands around her tea and looked at the city lights. Would she miss this? Would she miss staring into the night? She would miss the times she had been here with Vincent, that was for sure. But, Below, there were so many other beautiful places and she would be with him, always. She could watch over him and care for him, the way he had her these past two years. He seemed so delicate to her now, since his illness. She felt like she had to constantly reassure him of her love, since the Bond had been broken, and hadn't liked to be away. Father had finally sent her away several times while he was in the coma, rightfully stating that there was nothing she could do for him when he was unconscious and that she needed to go back so her boss and friends Above did not worry.
She sighed and finished her tea and thought over the things she needed to do the next day. She went back inside and closed the doors. Her appointment with Peter was at 10:00. She decided to stay home and write her letter of resignation. After the appointment, she would go in to the office and look over her files and begin to tie up loose ends. At the end of the day, she would tell Joe and give her letter to Moreno. Then, she would go Below for dinner and Vincent. She laid down and hugged her pillow, looking out the window. "A few days, Vincent," she thought. "A few more days and then I can be with you."
Chapter 3
When Vincent awoke that morning, he realized it was late. His tapestry was drawn and the usual noises of the Tunnels seemed muffled. He stiffly arose from the bed and began to dress. He felt cold and threw his cloak over his shoulders as he left his chamber, in search of Father and breakfast. Father's study was empty as was the dining chamber, but he found William in his kitchen.
"Well hello, lazy-bones!" William greeted him jovially.
"Is it really that late?" Vincent wrinkled his brow.
"You needed it," William said, handing Vincent a cup of tea. "Hungry?"
Vincent rubbed his free hand over his eyes and forehead. "Yes."
"Excellent!" William directed his friend to a chair at a table in the corner. He pushed aside some vegetables and brought over some oatmeal he had left warming on the back of the stove. William chatted as Vincent ate. He began to feel better and warmer. He was about to respond to something William had said, when he suddenly felt a strange but familiar feeling.
His silence lasted as he looked over William's head at the wall. "Vincent?" William asked. "Are you all right?"
"Hmm?" Vincent asked. "I'm not sure. Have you seen Father?"
"He was going to the outer tunnels to check on the new chambers Kanin and Mouse were working on."
"Thank-you. And thank-you for the late breakfast."
"Any time, old friend. I hope to see you better soon."
Vincent nodded and left the kitchen. "Catherine?" he whispered.
Catherine waited nervously in the exam room in her paper gown. She should have spoken to Peter privately, but she also needed his medical expertise and thought the office was the best place. His nurse had been able to get her in the next day, which was amazing, but he must have left word with his staff that she was a special patient. She had actually never seen him as a patient before. He had delivered her and cared for her mother, but up until now, Catherine had seen a female gynecologist. Seeing Peter was just too weird. He was a friend of the family. Now, that friendship may be crucial to the safety of Vincent and all who lived Below.
A brief knock came to the door and Peter came in. "Cathy! What a surprise! How are you, my dear?" He took her hand and kissed her cheek before sitting on the rolling "doctor" stool. "I've never seen you as a patient. Are you well?"
"Oh, Peter. I just had to see you."
"What is it?"
"I'm pregnant."
Peter sat up as his eyes widened. He then slumped a little. "Does Vincent...?"
"The child is Vincent's."
Peter's brow furrowed. "Maybe we should start at the beginning."
Catherine explained in minimal detail what had happened in the cave. "I went in yesterday to give blood, like I do every other month. They did the initial tests and the nurse came out and said I couldn't donate. I was pregnant. I went Below to tell Vincent and he told Father. We decided I should come to you."
"Oh, my Cathy. That is...That is amazing. And you were right to come to me. Any other doctor..."
"Would want to meet Vincent. Father thought that if there were..."
"Any abnormalities?"
"Yes. Then you would be the best doctor for me to go to."
"All right, then Cathy. Let's do this like any other pregnancy. I'll need a complete history and we'll do a physical. Then, I usually do an ultrasound to be certain of dates and to be sure it is a single pregnancy."
"All right."
Cathy laid back on the table. The history and physical were done and now Peter wheeled in an ultrasound machine. "No, I'm fine, Brenda. I'll call if I need you." He turned to Catherine. "Usually Brenda assists me, but just in case, I'll do this myself."
"Okay, Peter," she said quietly.
Peter squirted the warm blue gel on Catherine's lower abdomen and began guiding the wand over it. The black screen turned into a series of grey fuzzy images. "Where are you, little one?" Peter murmured as he worked. Suddenly the fuzzy images seemed to coalesce into a small moving blob. "Ah, ha! Hello." Peter pushed a few buttons and focused the image. "There it is, Cathy! There's your baby."
Catherine stared, entranced at the foreign image on the screen. "What is that, wiggling in the middle?"
"That's its heart, honey. Nice and strong." Peter moved the wand and the image disappeared.
"Oh, where'd he go?!"
"He's still there. I just want to check a few things. Then, we'll go back."
"Okay." Catherine was still staring at the screen as Peter moved the wand around her abdomen and pushed buttons on the machine. Then, he returned to the baby.
"There, Cathy." He stayed on the baby, making measurements and then he clicked on one last button. A drumbeat filled the air. "The baby's heartbeat." They listened to it for a few minutes, then Peter pressed another button and some paper came out of the bottom of the ultrasound machine.
"Oh, Peter," Catherine whispered.
"Pretty amazing, huh honey?"
"Oh, yeah." Catherine wiped a tear from her eye. "I wish Vincent could see this."
Peter smiled and handed her the picture that had printed. "Baby's first portrait."
Catherine cradled the picture as Peter wiped the excess gel from her belly. "I'll let you get dressed. Then, we need to talk."
"Okay," she said softly smiling at the picture of her baby.
Chapter 4
"I don't know what it is, Father. It isn't what I felt with Catherine. It is less intense than our Bond. But I know it is important."
"Perhaps it is your Bond returning?"
"Perhaps."
"You may know more when you see Catherine again."
"Perhaps."
Father shook his head at his son. "You are still weak, Vincent. You should rest."
"Perhaps." Vincent suddenly stood and left the unfinished chamber. He began to meander down the tunnel back to the main chambers.
"Rest, Vincent!" Father called after him.
"Perhaps," Vincent mumbled.
Catherine was still in a bit of a daze herself as she entered the Manhattan's District Attorney's office. Tucked in her purse was the picture of her child, right next to her resignation letter. To Moreno, she was short and sweet. She offered two weeks notice, resolving to tie up any loose ends she had and fully brief anyone who would be taking over her cases. But, Joe would need a lot of explanations. She vowed to be as truthful as she could.
She wandered over to her desk and put her coat and purse away. She sighed as she reached for the stack of files on her desk. There was a lot to do, but immersing herself in the work would help pass the time until she could go Below tonight.
After a few hours, she pushed back her chair and pulled her hair back from her face. She looked around the office. The light was fading from the windows and people were starting to leave. She knew what she had to do, but it didn't make it any easier. Taking the ultrasound picture and her letter, she moved towards Joe's office.
She tapped on the door and stuck her head in. "Have a minute?"
"Sure, Radcliffe. What's up?"
Catherine came in to the office and closed the door behind her. "I need to talk to you, Joe." She sat on the couch across from his desk.
"Why do I not like this?"
"Joe," she smiled. "Joe," she whispered.
"What is it, Cathy?"
"You've been such a good friend to me, so much more than a boss." Catherine sighed and looked up at him as he loomed over her, leaning against his desk. She handed him the letter.
He glanced through it slowly. "What? You have to be kidding me!"
"No, Joe. I'm leaving the District Attorney's Office."
"Why?"
She handed him the ultrasound picture.
"What is this?" He turned it upside down and sideways trying to make sense of it.
"My baby."
"Your - ? Your baby? Cathy?"
"I'm having a baby."
"Cathy! That's amazing! Congratulations." He pulled her up into a hug that she gratefully sank into. "But that doesn't mean you have to quit."
"I know, Joe. I know. But, it is something I've been thinking about ever since my father died. Finding out about the baby just gave me the final push."
"Oh, God. You aren't going back to corporate law, are you?"
Catherine laughed. "Oh, no. Don't worry. I'm not sure yet what I'll do, but I'm sure its not that. I want to take some time and think."
Joe looked at her. "You've done good work, here, Cathy."
"I know. And I've learned a lot. I'll always be grateful, Joe."
"I'm the one who's grateful," he said. "So, who's the lucky guy?"
"Hmm?"
He held up the picture. "The daddy?"
"Oh," she laughed again. "His name is Vincent."
"Have you been seeing him for awhile? Why haven't I heard his name before?"
"Because you prefer to talk about you!"
They laughed together. Then, Joe became quiet. "Is he good to you?"
"Oh, yes, Joe. I love him and he loves me. This baby is..." She bit her lip, looking for the word. "The baby is a little unexpected, but will be so loved. And Vincent...He's my life, Joe."
"Well," Joe looked at her a few more moments. "Okay, then Radcliffe. But if he ever hurts you..."
"You'll be the first to know." She hugged him again.
"So, you want me to tell Moreno?"
"Thanks, but no. I'll do it. I may just sneak in and drop off the letter and deal with him in the morning."
Joe handed her the letter and the picture back.
"So, I get you for two more weeks?"
"Yes you do and don't you even think about it!"
"Think about what, Radcliffe?" he asked in mock innocence. He opened the door for her.
"Thanks, Joe." She leaned up and kissed his cheek.
"Good-night, Cathy." He watched as she made her way back to her desk and gathered up her things. She stopped at the DA's private office and gave her letter to his secretary. Then, without a look back, she left the office. "Oh, Cathy," sighed Joe and went back to his desk.
Chapter 5
Vincent was waiting for her near the Central Park entrance to the Tunnels. Silently, he embraced her in a soul-encompassing hug. She clung to him, not knowing she needed to be held until he opened his arms to her. She breathed in the smell of candle smoke and dampness that clung to his clothes and the deeper, earthier musky scent that was just him. He buried his face in her neck and hair and held her.
She pulled away a little to look at his face. "How did you know I'd come this way?"
"Honestly, I guessed. I didn't think you'd go back home before you came Below. I knew this would be a hard day for you and imagined you'd want to come here as soon as possible. Also..." he paused, unsure.
"What is it, Vincent?" she looked at him, immediately concerned.
"I felt something."
"Has our Bond returned?"
"No, I do not believe so. It doesn't feel the same and now that you're here I'm sure of that. But, it does feel stronger now that I am close to you." He pulled her close to him again. "I am glad you're here."
"Me too. But, Vincent," she said.
"Hmm?"
"I'm tired. Can we go Below?"
"Of course." He let her go but kept her hand in his and led her into the tunnel. They walked in silence down deeper into the earth.
In unspoken agreement, they went to Vincent's chamber. She sat on his bed and removed her shoes. She laid back against the pillows. She sighed in comfort. "That was a lot of walking today."
"Where did you go?"
"First, I went to Peter's office."
"What did he say?"
"He said that everything looks fine. Oh, and Vincent," she said, taking up her purse and pulling out the picture. "He did an ultrasound. This is our baby."
Vincent took the picture carefully and squinted at it in the dim candle light.
"The dark part, in the center? I could see the heart beating."
He looked up at her. Her eyes were shining. "And the sound of it, Vincent, was sweeter than any music I have ever heard."
"I wish I could hear it."
"Perhaps you can."
"How, Catherine? I cannot go up there."
"No, but your ears are much more sensitive than mine." She reached out to him as he knelt next to the bed. She shifted her clothing and bared her belly to him. His eyes met hers in amazement, but she merely smiled and guided his head so his ear was against her bare skin. He pressed his ear to her flesh and went still.
He could hear the small noises of her stomach and a slow steady swish of the her blood flowing through her aorta. He pressed a bit tighter. Quieter, but insistant, beneath all the other sounds, he could hear a beating, faster than her heartbeat, nearly a buzz in his ear: the heartbeat of Catherine's child, of his child. He listened, enamored of that tiny buzz and suddenly realized what he had been feeling all day. The sense he was having was of the baby. Vincent silently began to cry, his tears flowing over his flat nose and hairy cheeks, on to Catherine's smooth skin. She laid her head back on the pillows and stroked his hair softly. Neither knew how long they stayed like that.
Father had worried since Vincent had left him earlier in the day, mumbling, "Perhaps," and wandering seemingly aimlessly away. He had not seen him at dinner and he wondered what was going through his son's head. He had seemed so altered since he had awakened those two weeks ago, confused and not himself. He decided he needed to talk to him.
Father hobbled down the hallway to Vincent's chamber, leaning heavily on his crutch. When he came to the doorway, the image the met him, seared itself on his heart and stayed with him for the rest of his life. His son, his Vincent, of whom he had to abandon so many hopes and yet support and encourage, was kneeling next to his bed. Catherine was asleep against the pillows and Vincent held one hand to her abdomen and with the other, was gently stroking her hair and her cheek.
"Vincent," Father whispered.
Vincent turned slowly and smiled one of his rare fully smiles, exposing his teeth and crinkling his eyes. "Oh, Father," he whispered back. "It is the baby."
"What?" Father asked.
"What I've been feeling today. It is the baby. I can hear it's heartbeat."
At their voices, Catherine stirred. "Vincent?" she murmured.
"Yes."
She opened her eyes and stretched and then sat up as her eyes landed on Father's stooped figure standing in the doorway. "Hello, Father."
"Hello. Sleepy?" He smiled indulgently at her.
"Yes, more than usual. Is that normal?"
"Oh, yes. Quite. You'll get your energy back as you enter your second trimester. I have a book..."
"Peter recommended one today. I'll begin reading it soon. He did an ultrasound. Did Vincent show you?"
"No, let me see." Vincent stood aside as Catherine got up and brought the picture to Father.
"That is the head," she pointed. "And that is the heart. I could hear it. Vincent can hear it with just his ear." She smiled up at him.
"Catherine, I meant to tell you before you fell asleep."
"What?"
"I can hear the baby everywhere. I can hear the heartbeat of the child, even when you are Above. I just didn't know what it was."
"Do you think our Bond has shifted to the baby?"
"Perhaps."
"Vincent." They turned to Father. "You told me that your Bond with Catherine was like hearing her heart beat."
Vincent nodded. "I wonder, if you can still hear her heart beat, but if it is muffled by the sound of the baby."
Vincent cocked his head to the side, considering. "What do you mean?"
"Here, sit down." Vincent sat in his chair. "Come, my dear," Father said to Catherine, guiding her next to him. "Listen to her heart, Vincent." Catherine opened her arms and guided his shaggy head to her chest. He nestled his head between her breasts somewhat self-consciously. "Listen. Hear her heartbeat. Concentrate on that." Catherine held him and stroked his hair gently. The three were silent for a few minutes. "Now," Father took Catherine by the crook of the elbow and pulled her a step away. "Can you still hear her?"
Vincent closed his eyes and concentrated his hearing. He could still hear her slower, steadier heartbeat. Beneath it was the faster buzz of the baby. "Yes. I hear both of them."
Catherine stepped backwards again. "Now?" she asked.
"Yes."
She walked backwards several more steps into the doorway. "Now?"
"Yes!" Vincent opened his eyes widely and stood.
"Go to my library," Father said.
Catherine smiled back and wiped a tear away from her cheek. Then, without a word, she turned and disappeared down the tunnel hallway.
"Now?" asked Father.
"Yes, I still hear her. I hear them both. Father, what happened?"
Father sat heavily in Vincent's recently vacated chair. "I believe that your...illness had a greater effect on you than either of us realized. All of your goodness, peacefulness, all your humanity, if you will, was obliterated by the darkness. Paracelsus used you. He wanted your darker tendancies to emerge. I'm sure he did not intend for you to kill him, but for you to kill for him. He expected to control you and your darker nature. When he died, and the darkness was released, it was chaos. And you forgot everything else in your struggle. Only Catherine and her great love for you could pull you from the darkness."
"Then why did I not know her when I awakened? Why could I not feel her?"
"You are still recovering, my son. And the child has masked things, changed things."
Vincent put his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes. "It is so much more than my strength that is gone."
"More than your physical strength," Father amended. "Your emotions must be in turmoil. And your empathic abilities – I've never seen their like and have no idea how to help you with that."
Suddenly, Vincent's head came up. "What is it, Vincent?"
"Catherine." Vincent left Father and raced to the library.
Chapter 6
Catherine had entered the library with a wide smile on her face to find Mary knitting in Father's favorite chair. "Hello, dear," she had said. "You look happy."
"Yes," Catherine replied sitting near her. "Father is working with Vincent. I think our Bond is coming back."
"Oh, that is wonderful. Do either of them know what happened?"
"Did Father tell you about...?"
"The baby? Yes. I hope that is all right. I'm so happy for you both."
"Thank-you. Well, Vincent could hear the baby and Father thinks it may have masked our Bond. He is working on concentrating on me and now he can hear us both."
"I see." Mary put her work down on the table. "You know, Father and I often discussed Vincent. He was a boy of ten when I came to the tunnels, but I often think of him as a son. We all raised him, with Father, of course."
"Yes."
"He is such a good boy and has grown into such a strong man. We wanted the world for him – happiness, love, children of his own – but we were never sure what could be. Father often cautioned him. He worried so. If Vincent was caught Above, what would be done to him, what would happen to our world? We were never quite sure of what the possibilities could be for him and Father despaired of raising his hopes too high."
"He never wanted him to be disappointed or unhappy."
"Yes, but I always wondered what it would do to his self-image, his self-esteem by placing all those limitations on him. He was always a shy boy."
"I know. He always downplays his feelings in favor of mine. He never thinks he is good enough for me. I'm the one that isn't good enough for him!"
Mary laughed. "Oh, you two are a pair! You'll do just fine once you stop thinking of yourselves as two people, but one soul."
"Mary, you are so - " Catherine suddenly turned pale and stood up with her hands to her mouth. "Mary, where can I - ?
Mary, ever the midwife, dumped out some fruit that was on a bowl on the table. She stood and quickly went to Catherine, who knelt to the floor and vomited violently into the bowl that Mary held for her. It was to this that Vincent entered. He quickly knelt near Catherine and supported her heaving body in his arms. Father hurried in breathlessly just as Catherine was wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and Mary was moving away with the bowl.
"Father," Vincent was about to ask when Mary and Father made eye contact over the couple on the floor.
"She needs to eat," Father said.
"Of course," Mary replied. "Catherine, when did you last eat anything?"
"Lunch time, I suppose." Catherine used Vincent's arm to stand and he moved her to the chair she had left abruptly.
"I'll take care of this and get her some bread and some tea."
"Mary!" Catherine called weakly. "I couldn't possibly! "
"You need to dear. I'll explain in a moment." Mary hurried away.
Father moved to the table and began to peel a banana. "My fruit bowl, Catherine?"
She merely shrugged and leaned back in the chair.
"What is going on, Father?" demanded Vincent incredulous that the others were taking Catherine's illness so matter-of-factly.
"Morning sickness," Father said, handing the banana to Catherine. She looked at him. "Just a small bite, dear. It will help."
"It is nearly 9:00 at night," snapped Vincent.
Mary entered quietly behind him. She brought a tray to Catherine with some bread, cheese and a teapot. "It is called 'morning sickness' because that is when one's stomach is typically empty. You see, the hormones that help sustain the pregnancy until the placenta is fully formed often cause nausea. It helps if one takes small meals and snacks. It seems odd to eat when you feel so nauseated, but it does help. Here." Mary gave Catherine a slice of bread.
"Sorry, Father, the bread sounds better." Catherine smiled weakly.
"It seems, Vincent, that you both have some reading to do." Father smiled at his confused son and took a bite of the banana.
Catherine and Vincent were arguing quietly on their way back to his chamber. "Vincent, you've done more today than you've done in weeks. You need to rest. You certainly have no business traipsing up Above again. You should go to bed."
"I cannot let you go Above alone. Not after what happened tonight."
"What happened? I threw up. Vincent, pregnant women throw up all the time. And now, I feel fine."
"I worry when you are not near. Our Bond is not what it once was."
"All I'm going to do is go home and go to bed. I'll be fine."
"I want you to go through the park. I don't want you climbing that ladder."
"I climbed it last night."
"But last night - "
"I was pregnant last night too."
"You were ill tonight. I don't want you to fall."
"What if someone walks with me?"
"You won't let me."
"Someone else. Like Mouse. One of the children? Or Jamie?"
Vincent stopped outside the door to his chamber and tapped out a message on the pipe that ran back down the hallway. Catherine went inside and gathered up her coat and purse. Vincent followed her in and embraced her.
"I'm sorry, Catherine. My mind has been a jumble these last days."
"I know. Mine has too. We need to take some time to just talk and sort things out."
"Yes."
"I gave Joe two weeks notice. After that, I'm as free as a bird. You'll be stronger then too. Be patient."
"All right."
Jamie entered the chamber. "Did you need me, Vincent?"
"Yes." Vincent released Catherine and turned to his friend. "Will you accompany Catherine back home? She has forbidden me to leave my chamber."
"Well, I agree. You don't want a relapse!" Jamie and Catherine both laughed at the look on Vincent's face.
"I'll be fine." Catherine turned back to Vincent. She pulled his face down to her and kissed his cheek. "You're cute when you worry."
"Be well, Catherine."
"And you." She squeezed his shoulders and turned to Jamie. "I'm ready."
"I'll come back and let you know she's safe, Vincent."
"Thank-you, Jamie."
Chapter 7
Catherine's two weeks of work passed quickly. She attended one last deposition and wrote up summaries of all her cases. She and Joe went through and distributed them among the other associate DA's. On her last day, the office threw a little farewell party with cake and punch. John Moreno, the DA, approached her.
"So, who are we losing you to, Catherine?"
"No one yet. I haven't decided what I'm going to do. I think I'll take some time to think."
"Really?" He looked incredulous.
"Yeah, really," she said quietly without breaking eye contact.
"You're a good lawyer, an asset. Anywhere you go will be lucky to get you."
"Thanks, John. I learned a lot here. I appreciated the opportunity."
"Good luck." He shook her hand.
"Thank-you," she said. He walked back to his office and Joe approached her.
"How about dinner, Radcliffe?"
"Thanks, Joe, but I already have plans."
"Vincent?"
"Jealousy doesn't become you."
"You have to eat, kiddo."
"I know and I will. I just want to get home, with an empty briefcase for once!"
"Okay."
"I'll call you. I don't want to lose touch. You've been a good friend."
"You too. Good luck. And, good-night." Joe kissed her on the cheek and watched her walk away from the gathering. Other people shook her hand and hugged her. Eventually, she moved to her desk and gathered up the rest of her things. Joe realized that she was alone. She had done good work in the DA's office, but she never made anything personal. He was the one who was the closest to her and even he didn't know that much about her. She was pregnant, in a serious relationship, and he had just learned the guy's name when she gave her resignation. There was so much more to Cathy Chandler than she let on. He wondered if he had ever knew her at all.
Catherine arrived home just after dark. She tossed her briefcase and coat on the nearest sofa and went to the balcony doors. She opened them and let in the cold air. She breathed deeply and closed her eyes. When she opened them, a beloved sight awaited her. Vincent stood just in the shadows holding two roses, one red and one white.
"Vincent," she breathed and went to his arms. He held her, as he had always done, cupping her head with one hand and holding her shoulders close with the other. She pulled back a bit and looked at him. "Are you well? Did you have any difficulties coming here?"
"I'm fine. My strength seems to return more and more every day. My memory is better. Our Bond..."
"Not fully returned?"
"No, but hearing your heartbeat and that of our child...It is enough."
She shivered in his arms. "Come inside. It is cold tonight." She turned and entered the apartment, but he didn't follow. "Vincent?"
"I just – It seems strange to come inside."
"You rarely did. We spent most of our time out here. The one time you did come in, you were very ill. Do you remember?"
"Bits and pieces. I remember you soothing me."
She smiled. "Come inside, Vincent. You've invited me into the tunnels, into your chamber. Come into my home. It is as much yours as mine anyway." She took his hand and again he stopped.
"How?"
"You are everything to me. Everything I have is due to you. Everything I have is yours."
Stunned a bit, he looked deep into her eyes, listened to her heartbeat and knew it was the truth. Knew it, because it was what he felt for her, about her. He squeezed her hand and stepped over the threshold, pulling the doors shut behind him.
Chapter 8
The two lovers reclined by the fire. Catherine had prepared a simple dinner for them and Vincent had eaten at her delicate dining table, relishing being loved by Catherine. She relished serving him, feeding him, caring for his basic needs. After the table was cleared and the dishes washed (he had rolled up his sleeves and washed while she dried,) they moved to the living room and curled up one of the sofas near the fire. Vincent read to her, in his soft melodious voice:
Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley Down the rivers of the windfall light.
And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,
In the sun that is young once only,
Time let me play and be Golden in the mercy of his means,
And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves
Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold,
And the sabbath rang slowly In the pebbles of the holy streams.
All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay
Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was air
And playing, lovely and watery
And fire green as grass.
And nightly under the simple stars
As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,
All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the nightjars
Flying with the ricks, and the horses
Flashing into the dark.
And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white
With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it was all
Shining, it was Adam and maiden,
The sky gathered again And the sun grew round that very day.
So it must have been after the birth of the simple light
In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking warm
Out of the whinnying green stable On to the fields of praise.
And honoured among foxes and pheasants by the gay house
Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long,
In the sun born over and over,
I ran my heedless ways,
My wishes raced through the house high hay
And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows
In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs Before the children green and golden
Follow him out of grace,
Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
In the moon that is always rising,
Nor that riding to sleep I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea. (-Dylan Thomas, "Fern Hill.")
"That was beautiful." She turned the book in his hands. "Dylan Thomas?"
"Yes, his words keep calling to me."
"You kept reciting those lines from 'Death Shall Have No Dominion' when you were ill."
"Yes."
"Are you feeling well?"
"I keep thinking of you and the child, living Below."
"And...?"
"I wish you could see you in the sun. I wish to see the sunlight on your hair, sparkling in your eyes. And the baby..."
She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. After a few moments, she began to speak. "When I was a girl, we used to go to a cabin by a lake in Connecticut. There was a place, surrounded by trees and tall grass that I would go to. I called it my secret place. I felt like when I was there, no one in the world knew where I was."
"What did you do there?"
"Sometimes I read. Sometimes I slept. Watched the clouds go by. Mostly, I dreamed and thought, childish and girlish dreams."
"I know. I did that at the Falls or the Mirror Pool."
"Sometimes, if I was very still, deer would walk by and never see me. I felt magical."
"Hmm." Vincent closed his eyes and leaned back against the sofa.
"I wish you could see it."
"I do see it. Your description takes me there."
"No, Vincent. Really see it. I wish we could go there."
"I do too."
They sat in silence for a few moments. "Maybe it is possible."
"Oh, Catherine, no. I don't want to disappoint you. Don't dream an impossible dream."
"Why impossible?" Her mind was racing. "The only difficult part would be getting out of the city. No one is ever up there this time of year."
"Catherine," he said firmly.
"Vincent, I want to show this to you. No one else is there. You and I could walk, in the sun."
"Catherine," he said softer.
"Please, Vincent. Let me try to arrange it. Let me just try."
He looked at her, her eyes shining with possibility, pleading for his consent. She had given him so much – a child, his own life back. How could he deny her this one thing? "All right. If you can arrange it, I will go with you."
Her face broke into that breath-taking smile she only gave him. "Thank-you!" She fell into his arms and squeezed him tightly. He laughed at her exuberance and squeezed her back.
After a moment, he pulled away. "I should go. You need your rest and I must return before it gets light."
"I want to come Below tomorrow."
"I need to help Mouse and Kanin and the others tomorrow. I'll have Jamie or one of the children meet you at your entrance."
"Noon?"
"All right."
"Come to your chamber when you are finished. I'll be waiting for you there."
They stood up and walked to the balcony doors. "Don't come out. It is too cold for you." He put on his cloak and began to put up the hood. She stayed his hands.
"Vincent," she whispered. Her small hands cupped his face. "I love you, so." She pulled his face to hers and kissed his brow gently.
He straightened and looked at her. He then took her hand and brought it to his lips. "And I you, Catherine."
"Good-night," she whispered as he disappeared into the night.