It Wasn't Courage
No, she decided glumly, the feeling in the pit of her stomach was not nausea, not the remnants of the anger she'd felt when Joe had sent her to see Elliot Burch, and was definitely not indigestion from the breakfast she'd shared with Edie earlier. It was fear. Uncontrollable, undeniable fear. It gripped her, held her entire body hostage while she watched the on-going, determined activities of this boy everyone called Mouse.
She watched as he prepared to plug the hole they had drilled with the highly volatile explosive compound, her eyes never leaving his hands. She knew the real story now, knew that he was innocent, inexperienced. And, though it gave her no solace at the moment, something inside told her that within his child-like mind lay a wealth of potential, hidden from most, but waiting for the right moment to show itself.
Earlier this morning, he'd assured her he knew what was needed, what he was doing. He convinced her everything would be all right. But now, after first discovering the possible tragedy Below, then running above to secure the help of equipment from Elliot Burch, and more recently, several hours of drilling, she was more than just frightened, she was terrified!
Blowing hair from her eyes, Catherine wiped away the tears falling heedlessly from her already smudged face. The cost of failure in this enterprise was too high a price to pay, for Vincent lay behind that wall of rock before them--Vincent and the tunnel's patriarch, Father. In the time that she'd known them, she'd come to care for each of them in a special way, almost as though they were her family.
And now, thinking of Vincent lying trapped within a concrete prison, her heart heaved with unspoken horrors. He'd become much more than just a friend over the past many months. She thought of him often and dreamed of him even more than that. His soft voice sent chills down her back, and looking into his eyes was like seeing the sky.
"You must be all right," she whispered to herself, spasms of terror slicing their way into her soul like a charging knight wielding a broadsword into battle. And just after uttering those words, she shook her head, all her ravaged feelings coming together to form a simple truth--a truth that would not and could not be denied any longer.
Within the confines of their prison, Vincent lifted his head, a look of confusion crossing his face. He was puzzled by the jumbled and wavering messages coming to him through the bond. Since the beginning, from almost the first moment he touched her, he'd been able to feel her thoughts, to sense Catherine's moods. He had been filled with peace and security with this knowledge but had believed this miracle could only be one-sided. His empathy had manifested itself before in his life from time to time, but never had it been like this. But now, helpless as he was in the prison, he no longer knew what to think or believe about anything. With Catherine, everything about his unique abilities was different, somehow more pronounced, more powerful. It had to be true, for she was here! She was Below and close by!
How had it happened? How was it possible? She had been below only a few, very selected times, and then always accompanied by him. She would not have been able to maneuver her way to this hidden world without the assistance of someone who knew its secrets!
And, as this puzzle formed itself in his mind, he thought of yet another. How could she have known of the danger to him and his world? No one Below would have summoned her--no one would have taken the time to even notify her. Why, even the helpers would not have done it! Though his friends and family knew of her and his frequent trips Above, she was not an accepted member of his society...at least...not yet.
"Catherine," he whispered her name softly, feeling the sudden and utter strength of her emotions. He knew she was feeling a tremendous sense of fear within her, almost panic.
Father stirred uncomfortably, an injury to his head causing his despair to increase steadily. "Vincent?" he called uneasily, trying to turn toward his son.
Knowing his behavior warranted explanation, Vincent looked to his parent. "Catherine is frightened," he said, hoping those simple words would be enough to satisfy the injured man for now.
Letting out a ragged breath, Father sighed. "She's afraid you're dead." He then met his son's eyes, as though daring him to deny it.
He did. "No," Vincent disagreed instantly, shaking his head and closing his eyes, more and more puzzled. "It's not sadness or despair...It's fear."
Slipping behind the curtain of rock Winslow had designated as cover, Catherine too closed her eyes. Her heart was exploding with so many emotions; there was something new and alive inside of her, feelings she had never felt or acknowledged before. It grew, pulsated with life, and seemed to shift in intensity with every passing second. Its unending energy overwhelmed her, made her shake her head as she tried to clear the sudden dizziness passing through her. This emotion, so new and still so powerful, ate away at her soul; the thought of failure left her cold with growing dread, left her mind reeling with a growing sense of emptiness, loneliness and isolation.
Her eyes turned to the wall, knowing the moment of truth was now at hand, for Mouse was ready, his "gizmos" wired and the compound firmly in place. concern for this boy's life had prompted both herself and then Winslow to offer to set off the charge themselves, but Mouse had refused each time. When he turned to look into her eyes, she saw a prevailing sense of confidence in them, of his knowing he must be the one to do it. "Vincent will kill me if you die," he said matter-of-factly, then had dismissed her by turning his attention back to the wiring of the small detonating device.
Winslow's dismissal had been almost the same, Mouse requesting only that the older man take care of someone named Arthur.
As she knelt behind the curtain of rocks, the feeling in the pit of her stomach grew, and Catherine wanted to scream as her mind finally defined the truth of her emotions. Vincent had become more than just important to her; he was more important than anything else in her life! The wish to hold him close and explain this revelation to him outweighed all rational thought. It was worth more to her than wealth or society, more than her father had ever hoped for her. Definitely much more than anything Elliot Burch could ever have given her in several lifetimes. And with this knowledge and certainty, the fear began anew; Mouse must not fail! He must not!
Once all the citizens helping with the rescue were behind cover, an ominous silence filled the cavern. With only a brief hesitation, Mouse rolled his eyes, then pressed the red button on the detonating device. The calmness of the cavern was replaced instantly by the loud, roaring blast of the erupting discharge. Amid the horrified screams and general panic caused by the intensity of the explosion, Catherine's heart froze with renewed apprehension. It was so powerful, so strong. Could they have done more harm than good?
She could scarcely breathe as the silence fell around her, and as she lifted her head, she peered uneasily over the rocks toward the once solid wall. Through the thick, gray dust, she saw the gaping hole and felt her heart in her throat as she began to stand.
From inside what was left of the maze, she heard a cough. Then she heard it again. She sprang to her feet, his name leaving her lips as she moved toward him. "Vincent!"
Standing shakily, Vincent looked up, feeling her long before she came to him, he made out her form in the dust filled tunnel. "Catherine!"
Running toward him, she slid easily into the arms he opened wide for her, his obvious strength setting her mind at ease. All the previous terror faded as she felt his arms surround her; the truth of her emotion became even clearer, became stronger. She had to tell him.
It was much later, after Father had been slowly carried back to his chamber and treated, that Vincent accompanied Catherine on the long walk back to her sub-basement. He was still puzzled, for the feelings coming to him through the bond were confusing, undefined, and jumbled. He felt a great sense of relief and happiness, yet there was something else.
At the entrance under her apartment, Catherine turned, looking up at him with green eyes filled with a sudden sense of devotion.
Within himself, Vincent felt his love for her grow. His heart filled with an enormous sense of pride, for he had decided that it must have been their connection that had brought her to him, that told her of the possible danger to him. And she had answered that call, had taken it upon herself to enter his world unguided, unaided. She had risked so much for him, had done so much for him and his world today. Incredulous, he whispered her name. "Catherine..."
"I've never been so frightened..." she began sincerely, clutching his arms but never taking her eyes from his.
Still quite moved by all that had occurred, Vincent met her eyes and spoke with honesty. "Your courage saved our lives..."
Unable to release him, Catherine took a deep breath. "I felt like I was losing the best part of myself," she insisted, hoping he'd recognize and accept her realizations. "I would have done anything."
He stared at her then, silent, hopeful, listening as her heart opened itself to him. She wanted to tell him something--something she needed desperately for him to know.
Feeling a blush rise unaccountably on her cheek, Catherine looked down. Now was the time to say it, to tell him of her discovery; he had to feel it in her already. Closing her eyes, she gathered her nerve. "It wasn't courage, Vincent," she began, studying his face and watching his eyes darken with comprehension. "It was love."
As soon as the words left her lips, Catherine knew they were true. She had known, in fact, all along. An excitement flowed through her, a securing and blissful warmth that surrounded her along with the certainty of her emotions. Smiling up at him, she knew he accepted her feelings, her words. All would be well. She slipped into a quick embrace, then met his eyes quickly before moving away toward the eerie lights separating their worlds from one another.
Watching her go, Vincent stood alone, hearing her words over and over in his mind. She had said "it was love," and in his heart, he knew she meant it. Only love as strong and sure as hers could have lent her the strength to do what she had done this day.
Sighing happily, Vincent returned to the safety of his chambers. All the way down, he thought of her. With those thoughts, came promise: the promise of long denied possibilities.
No, she decided glumly, the feeling in the pit of her stomach was not nausea, not the remnants of the anger she'd felt when Joe had sent her to see Elliot Burch, and was definitely not indigestion from the breakfast she'd shared with Edie earlier. It was fear. Uncontrollable, undeniable fear. It gripped her, held her entire body hostage while she watched the on-going, determined activities of this boy everyone called Mouse.
She watched as he prepared to plug the hole they had drilled with the highly volatile explosive compound, her eyes never leaving his hands. She knew the real story now, knew that he was innocent, inexperienced. And, though it gave her no solace at the moment, something inside told her that within his child-like mind lay a wealth of potential, hidden from most, but waiting for the right moment to show itself.
Earlier this morning, he'd assured her he knew what was needed, what he was doing. He convinced her everything would be all right. But now, after first discovering the possible tragedy Below, then running above to secure the help of equipment from Elliot Burch, and more recently, several hours of drilling, she was more than just frightened, she was terrified!
Blowing hair from her eyes, Catherine wiped away the tears falling heedlessly from her already smudged face. The cost of failure in this enterprise was too high a price to pay, for Vincent lay behind that wall of rock before them--Vincent and the tunnel's patriarch, Father. In the time that she'd known them, she'd come to care for each of them in a special way, almost as though they were her family.
And now, thinking of Vincent lying trapped within a concrete prison, her heart heaved with unspoken horrors. He'd become much more than just a friend over the past many months. She thought of him often and dreamed of him even more than that. His soft voice sent chills down her back, and looking into his eyes was like seeing the sky.
"You must be all right," she whispered to herself, spasms of terror slicing their way into her soul like a charging knight wielding a broadsword into battle. And just after uttering those words, she shook her head, all her ravaged feelings coming together to form a simple truth--a truth that would not and could not be denied any longer.
Within the confines of their prison, Vincent lifted his head, a look of confusion crossing his face. He was puzzled by the jumbled and wavering messages coming to him through the bond. Since the beginning, from almost the first moment he touched her, he'd been able to feel her thoughts, to sense Catherine's moods. He had been filled with peace and security with this knowledge but had believed this miracle could only be one-sided. His empathy had manifested itself before in his life from time to time, but never had it been like this. But now, helpless as he was in the prison, he no longer knew what to think or believe about anything. With Catherine, everything about his unique abilities was different, somehow more pronounced, more powerful. It had to be true, for she was here! She was Below and close by!
How had it happened? How was it possible? She had been below only a few, very selected times, and then always accompanied by him. She would not have been able to maneuver her way to this hidden world without the assistance of someone who knew its secrets!
And, as this puzzle formed itself in his mind, he thought of yet another. How could she have known of the danger to him and his world? No one Below would have summoned her--no one would have taken the time to even notify her. Why, even the helpers would not have done it! Though his friends and family knew of her and his frequent trips Above, she was not an accepted member of his society...at least...not yet.
"Catherine," he whispered her name softly, feeling the sudden and utter strength of her emotions. He knew she was feeling a tremendous sense of fear within her, almost panic.
Father stirred uncomfortably, an injury to his head causing his despair to increase steadily. "Vincent?" he called uneasily, trying to turn toward his son.
Knowing his behavior warranted explanation, Vincent looked to his parent. "Catherine is frightened," he said, hoping those simple words would be enough to satisfy the injured man for now.
Letting out a ragged breath, Father sighed. "She's afraid you're dead." He then met his son's eyes, as though daring him to deny it.
He did. "No," Vincent disagreed instantly, shaking his head and closing his eyes, more and more puzzled. "It's not sadness or despair...It's fear."
Slipping behind the curtain of rock Winslow had designated as cover, Catherine too closed her eyes. Her heart was exploding with so many emotions; there was something new and alive inside of her, feelings she had never felt or acknowledged before. It grew, pulsated with life, and seemed to shift in intensity with every passing second. Its unending energy overwhelmed her, made her shake her head as she tried to clear the sudden dizziness passing through her. This emotion, so new and still so powerful, ate away at her soul; the thought of failure left her cold with growing dread, left her mind reeling with a growing sense of emptiness, loneliness and isolation.
Her eyes turned to the wall, knowing the moment of truth was now at hand, for Mouse was ready, his "gizmos" wired and the compound firmly in place. concern for this boy's life had prompted both herself and then Winslow to offer to set off the charge themselves, but Mouse had refused each time. When he turned to look into her eyes, she saw a prevailing sense of confidence in them, of his knowing he must be the one to do it. "Vincent will kill me if you die," he said matter-of-factly, then had dismissed her by turning his attention back to the wiring of the small detonating device.
Winslow's dismissal had been almost the same, Mouse requesting only that the older man take care of someone named Arthur.
As she knelt behind the curtain of rocks, the feeling in the pit of her stomach grew, and Catherine wanted to scream as her mind finally defined the truth of her emotions. Vincent had become more than just important to her; he was more important than anything else in her life! The wish to hold him close and explain this revelation to him outweighed all rational thought. It was worth more to her than wealth or society, more than her father had ever hoped for her. Definitely much more than anything Elliot Burch could ever have given her in several lifetimes. And with this knowledge and certainty, the fear began anew; Mouse must not fail! He must not!
Once all the citizens helping with the rescue were behind cover, an ominous silence filled the cavern. With only a brief hesitation, Mouse rolled his eyes, then pressed the red button on the detonating device. The calmness of the cavern was replaced instantly by the loud, roaring blast of the erupting discharge. Amid the horrified screams and general panic caused by the intensity of the explosion, Catherine's heart froze with renewed apprehension. It was so powerful, so strong. Could they have done more harm than good?
She could scarcely breathe as the silence fell around her, and as she lifted her head, she peered uneasily over the rocks toward the once solid wall. Through the thick, gray dust, she saw the gaping hole and felt her heart in her throat as she began to stand.
From inside what was left of the maze, she heard a cough. Then she heard it again. She sprang to her feet, his name leaving her lips as she moved toward him. "Vincent!"
Standing shakily, Vincent looked up, feeling her long before she came to him, he made out her form in the dust filled tunnel. "Catherine!"
Running toward him, she slid easily into the arms he opened wide for her, his obvious strength setting her mind at ease. All the previous terror faded as she felt his arms surround her; the truth of her emotion became even clearer, became stronger. She had to tell him.
It was much later, after Father had been slowly carried back to his chamber and treated, that Vincent accompanied Catherine on the long walk back to her sub-basement. He was still puzzled, for the feelings coming to him through the bond were confusing, undefined, and jumbled. He felt a great sense of relief and happiness, yet there was something else.
At the entrance under her apartment, Catherine turned, looking up at him with green eyes filled with a sudden sense of devotion.
Within himself, Vincent felt his love for her grow. His heart filled with an enormous sense of pride, for he had decided that it must have been their connection that had brought her to him, that told her of the possible danger to him. And she had answered that call, had taken it upon herself to enter his world unguided, unaided. She had risked so much for him, had done so much for him and his world today. Incredulous, he whispered her name. "Catherine..."
"I've never been so frightened..." she began sincerely, clutching his arms but never taking her eyes from his.
Still quite moved by all that had occurred, Vincent met her eyes and spoke with honesty. "Your courage saved our lives..."
Unable to release him, Catherine took a deep breath. "I felt like I was losing the best part of myself," she insisted, hoping he'd recognize and accept her realizations. "I would have done anything."
He stared at her then, silent, hopeful, listening as her heart opened itself to him. She wanted to tell him something--something she needed desperately for him to know.
Feeling a blush rise unaccountably on her cheek, Catherine looked down. Now was the time to say it, to tell him of her discovery; he had to feel it in her already. Closing her eyes, she gathered her nerve. "It wasn't courage, Vincent," she began, studying his face and watching his eyes darken with comprehension. "It was love."
As soon as the words left her lips, Catherine knew they were true. She had known, in fact, all along. An excitement flowed through her, a securing and blissful warmth that surrounded her along with the certainty of her emotions. Smiling up at him, she knew he accepted her feelings, her words. All would be well. She slipped into a quick embrace, then met his eyes quickly before moving away toward the eerie lights separating their worlds from one another.
Watching her go, Vincent stood alone, hearing her words over and over in his mind. She had said "it was love," and in his heart, he knew she meant it. Only love as strong and sure as hers could have lent her the strength to do what she had done this day.
Sighing happily, Vincent returned to the safety of his chambers. All the way down, he thought of her. With those thoughts, came promise: the promise of long denied possibilities.