Time Will Tell
The Beast meets his match
By Thomas Mc

Chapter 2: Missing Pieces

Cathy leaned back against her closed apartment door. She had finally definitively ended her on-again-off-again relationship with Tom.

She had tried to break it off that night of his investors' party. Then she had been attacked while leaving the party. The muggers had slashed her face, beaten and stabbed her then dumped her in the park, left for dead. If not for some stranger that had been pulled off to the side of the road changing a flat tire, she would have died that night. As it was it had been a very close thing. She had been told that her heart had stopped during the ambulance ride to the hospital. Despite the pressure put on the police department and her father's best efforts they had never found the muggers who attacked her

Though her body had eventually been put back together as good as new, her spirit had been shattered by the experience and she had found herself clinging to Tom like a drowning man clings to a life raft. Over the course of the following year she had continued to try holding on to their unstable relationship as her only port in a storm.

Then this afternoon, on the anniversary of the day she had been attacked, Tom had talked about the possibility of marriage like it was a business proposition. There was no mention of love in his words. Just talk about the financial and business advantages of the union. Tom didn't seem to even be aware of the significance of this day.

That was when she finally took a hard look at the direction her life had taken. She had been drifting, rudderless, for years and it had only gotten worse after her attack. It felt like something was missing but she couldn't figure out what. She realized that she had to make some serious changes; beginning with dumping Tom, which she had quickly proceeded to do. Now it was done and she felt relief mixed with a confusing melancholy and aloneness. The rudderless feeling had not gone away. There was still something missing. She wondered if somewhere out there was the one man meant for her. The one that would make her feel complete. If only she knew where to find him.

She sighed deeply and dismissed such romantic foolishness from her mind then pushed herself away from the door. She considered calling her father just to talk to him and hear his soothing voice. She straightened her shoulders in determination. That was exactly what she would do. She glanced at her watch to determine whether or not he was likely to be at work still. It wasn't all that late. He would most likely still be at work. She crossed to her phone and dialed her father's office number. He answered on the second ring.

The conversation started out with about a minute of awkward small talk. Then the dam burst and she unloaded her emotional turmoil on him. After a second of silence he began with several words of sympathetic comfort. Then they talked about it for a long while. Finally, she hung up, feeling somewhat better. She glanced at her watch. The call had lasted longer than she had expected and she realize that she was getting hungry. She didn't feel up to fixing anything for herself, so, she ordered delivery from a fairly expensive Italian place that she was currently fond of.

Eight minutes later her doorbell rang. She grabbed her purse and went to the door. As she pulled it open, she commented. "That was quick. How much do . . ." Her voice faltered as she found herself staring at her own imperfect reflection. She stood there for a second, momentarily stunned, then certain details caught her notice. The duplicate was not an exact copy. Her clothes and hairstyle were different, and her maternity outfit made her current condition obvious.

The look of surprise on her look-alike cleared quickly and the woman remarked. "Until this moment I really doubted that you would be real. I certainly doubted that I would actually find you here."

Then Cathy's temporary paralysis broke and she exclaimed. "Who are you?"

The look-alike stranger responded. "I'm you . . . or, at least, a version of you."

"What!?" Cathy couldn't believe what she had just heard.

"It's a long story." The doppelganger remarked. "If you will allow me to come in, I will try to explain. I am no danger to you." She glanced down at her abdomen. "Getting into an altercation with you could endanger my baby and I will not allow that." She shrugged and a small smile graced her face. "Besides, I know myself well enough to suspect that your curiosity is running rampant by now."

Cathy stared back at the strange doppelganger a moment then demanded. "Who are you, really?" A dozen lurid scenarios ran through her mind in quick succession as she stared, dumfounded at the woman. They ranged from some crazy woman trying to take over her life, all the way to ideas straight out of 'The Twilight Zone'.

"Like I told you, I am a . . . a version of you." She shrugged. "Just look at me. I'm practically like your identical twin. I also really need to talk to you. It could be important for both of us."

'Is this woman crazy?' Cathy wondered. Then one of those absurd ideas seemed to take hold. "Are you trying to take my place?" She decided that she should close her door before this woman could barge into the apartment.

The doppelganger looked genuinely shocked. "Oh, God no! I have a life of my own with a wonderful husband and two children with a third on the way. I only want to get back to my own life. But to get back to my life, I think that I must first figure out what went wrong for you and see if there is some way to fix it."

Cathy had her door halfway closed then paused as the other woman's words sank in. There was no denying that looking at this strange woman was like looking at herself in a mirror. Based on what she had just said, this woman seemed to have everything that Cathy had been dreaming of less than an hour ago and it sounded like she wanted to help Cathy find those things as well. But, on the other hand, the whole situation was so ludicrous as to be laughable. Yet standing right there in her doorway was this very real looking duplicate looking earnestly back at her. At that moment the elevator doors opened with a soft ding and Cathy saw the Italian food delivery person step out.

After one more moment of indecision Cathy finally relented with a sigh. She had taken all those self-defense courses from Isaac and the doppelganger was pregnant. The woman should be no real threat and Cathy's curiosity was getting the better of her. "Alright, come in." She backed up to let the look-alike in then stepped up to the delivery person that was now looking at the two of them in total amazement. Cathy paid for the food, adding a generous tip then closed the door.

Cathy closed her eyes a moment and prayed that she wasn't making a big mistake then turned to confront her 'guest'. "I just ordered dinner." Cathy shrugged. "The portions are more than I can normally eat. Do you want some?"

"Mario's?" The look-alike inquired.

"Yes." Cathy replied.

"Sure. I love Mario's." Her double exclaimed. "But then you should know that."

Cathy shook her head. "Let's sit at the table and while we eat, you can try to explain to me just what is going on here."

The doppelganger simply nodded, and they moved over to the small table next to the apartment's tiny kitchen. No words were spoken as they divided up the food and both women dived into their meals. After a pause Cathy asked the question foremost in her mind. "So, if you're not here to replace me, what are you doing here?"

Catherine shrugged. "I wish I knew." She seemed to be unsure how to continue but finally she began to explain. "I know how crazy this is going to sound, but here goes. One minute I was heading back to meet up with Vincent, my husband. The next thing I knew I found myself among some old friends that had no idea who I was. Then I rounded a corner to see my husband standing there. I was overjoyed and raced into his arms. But he had no idea who I was either and I had a minor melt down. Then after a few minutes talking to him I realized that he didn't know me because this was not my world, so he was not really my husband."

Cathy could almost hear 'The Twilight Zone' theme music playing in her head. "You're right, that does sound crazy."

The next second, for no apparent reason, Catherine asked a question out of the blue. "Can you tell me what happened to you after you were attacked on the night of Tom's party?"

Cathy stared back at her in surprise. Where had that come from? "What do you mean?"

"I'm just trying to establish where and how our paths diverged." Catherine relied. "Indulge me. What happened after you left Tom's party?"

Cathy found herself dragged unwillingly back to that terrible evening. After ruthlessly suppressing the emotions that memory brought out, she slowly began to talk. "I was furious at how callous Tom had behaved over my friend's problems and left the party. Outside the building, a dark van pulled up and two men pushed me in." She paused a couple of seconds when the emotions came welling to the surface. Once she again had them under control she continued while looking down at the table. "They hurt me really bad. Cut up my face . . ." She involuntarily touched the scar under her left ear. She looked up to see the stranger displaying an identical scar under her left ear. This caused her to pause and stare in surprise. "You have a scar just like mine!" She exclaimed.

"Yea, the same thing happened to me." Catherine commented softly. "Go on. What happened next?"

Cathy shook her head and shrugged. "The next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital with my face completely wrapped in bandages and Dad was calling my name. Dad stayed by my side for those fourteen days until they removed the bandages and I could see again." She paused and sighed. "It was Dad's voice that kept me sane those two weeks that I was blind."

Catherine stared at Cathy for a couple of seconds then inquired. "But how did you get to the hospital?"

"I don't really know." Cathy replied. I was told later that some man with a flat tire saw what happened and called the police. An ambulance came and took me to the hospital."

"That explains everything!" Catherine exclaimed triumphantly.

Cathy frowned at the excitable woman. "Explains what?" She shook her head. "I don't understand."

Catherine calmed down. "Vincent was the one that found me when they dumped me in the park. If there had been someone else there, like your guy with the flat, Vincent never would have gone near me." She paused to consider such a tragedy and shuddered. "Vincent took me to his home where his father fixed me up. Then he took care of me until I was healed enough to return home. Since then I celebrate the day of the attack because that is the day that I met Vincent. For those first ten days that my face was all bandaged his voice was my lifeline." She sighed deeply. "And that voice of his . . ." She rolled her eyes. "I dare any woman to listen to that voice without melting into a puddle of mush. By the end of the first week I was half way in love with him just from talking to him." She drifted off momentarily into her memories of that time.

By now Cathy was intrigued by the woman's story and wanted to know more. "Well, what happened next?"

Catherine dragged herself back to the present and continued. "By the tenth day I couldn't take the uncertainty anymore. I needed to know how bad the damage was. I knew that Vincent was out of the room, so I removed the bandages myself. When I got my first look around my environment, I found myself in some kind of underground chamber. Once I got past that surprise, I noticed that I was dressed in multiply-patched second-hand clothes. I started looking around for a mirror. The only reflective surface I could find was an old broken headlight reflector, so I picked it up looked into it." Catherine paused as a shiver ran up her spine at the memory of that moment when she first saw herself. Her gaze locked with Cathy. "I looked like something straight out of a Frankenstein movie. I looked horrible. For a moment I felt like all the air had gone out of the room and my whole life lay in pieces on the ground"

Catherine saw the look of deep sympathy pass across Cathy's face.

"Then it happened." Catherine continued. "In the reflector I saw a frightening apparition appear over my shoulder that scared the hell out of me. I turned, screamed, and threw the broken headlight at him." She noticed the sympathetic horror in Cathy's face and paused to let her words sink in. "He apologized for scaring me and left the chamber. That's when I realized that the scary apparition was attached to the voice that I had been falling in love with. It was too much for me. I broke down and cried." Catherine hung her head at the memory of that terrible moment.

"Oh my God." Cathy exhaled softly. "He was really that scary looking?"

Catherine nodded. "Seen for the first time, without any advanced warning, Vincent can be very frightening. Oh, he's not hideous or repulsive or anything like that. In fact, he is really rather magnificent looking." She smiled softly to herself. "Several minutes later he called to me from outside the doorway. He told me that he had brought me some new clean clothes so that I could return home, but he didn't want to frighten me. I pulled myself together and asked him to come in. He again said that he didn't want to scare me, and I begged him to come in. He was wearing a hooded cloak that hid his features and dropped the clothes on the bed then turned to go. I reached out and caught his hand and insisted that he let me see him. He reluctantly turned back. I swallowed my nervousness and pushed back his hood to get a better look. He was magnificent. I couldn't look away. I felt drawn to him."

"But you said his appearance was frightening." Cathy remarked, her expression showing confusion.

Catherine thought for several seconds then her smile got a little wider. "Consider the lion, a magnificently beautiful creature. But come upon one suddenly without warning and it will scare the crap out of you." She paused a moment. "Actually, despite his fierce appearance, Vincent has one of the gentlest souls I have ever encountered. He loves Shakespeare and classical music. He teaches literature to the young homeless children that his community takes in off the street. The children love him." She glanced down a moment. "However, in spite of his gentle nature, he can be as fierce as his appearance would suggest when protecting his friends and loved ones."

"He sounds intriguing." Cathy commented. "What happened next?" She was hooked on the story Catherine was weaving.

"After I got dressed Vincent escorted me through the tunnels to the basement of this apartment building. He said that some friends from above had found out where I lived, and someone, called Mouse, had found an underground route to my address." Catherine's smile widened a bit more. "By the time we arrived below this building I had already developed strong feelings for him. I swore to myself that I would one day find my way back to him." She looked at Cathy with her eyes agleam. "I did find my way back and visited him often. We fell in love, overcame our fears, got married, and started a family. I've never been happier, and I've never looked back."

There was a long stretch of silence as Catherine watched her other self contemplate everything that she had told her. Then a thought occurred to her and she voiced it. "It might surprise you to know that Doctor Alcott has known Vincent since he was a baby. It certainly surprised me when I found out."

Cathy was certainly surprised by this revelation on top of everything else. Her guest continued to watch her as she mulled over what this doppelganger had told her. And the idea that Peter knew Vincent had come out of left field to muddy the waters even further. In many ways the story sounded like some type of impossible fairy tale. Yet there was something so subtly alluring about it as well. Even his name seemed to conger up images of a hero from a fairy tale world. She wondered what it was about this Vincent's appearance that could be both fearsome and attractive at the same time.

And what would her father think about all this. Come to think of it, that was a good question to ask. "What does Dad think about Vincent?"

Catherine looked startled at the unexpected question then her expression turned somber as the memories of her father flooded in. It took her a few seconds to gather her scattered thoughts before speaking. "Dad . . . Dad died before we got a chance to introduce Vincent to him. He had a fatal stroke when an aneurysm in his brain burst." Speaking about it caused the pain of that time come rushing back with a vengeance.

Cathy stared back at her guest in shock for several seconds. The truth of her guest's statement was born out by the look on her face. Finally, she had to know. "When did this happen?"

Catherine slowly pushed the pain away as a single tear slid down her cheek. She took a moment for some quick mental calculation then responded. "If I have today's date correct . . . it will happen in about six months from now . . . more or less." She tried to recall everything that Peter had told her about what happened. "Peter told me that the rupture could have happened at any time. Any type of unusual stress could have caused it." She looked up at Cathy. "He also said that if they had found it earlier the aneurysm could have been repaired and the stroke prevented. If you could get Peter to talk Daddy into getting tested, then they should be able to save him."

Cathy stared back at her guest in stunned disbelief. But if this was true then she only had less than six months to prevent her father's death. She had to take the chance and possibly prevent this tragedy from happening. But that was something to deal with later. Right now, she needed to figure out what to do about this Vincent that her guest had been telling her about.

After a moment's thought Cathy spoke up. "If, - and I do mean if -, I were to consider agreeing to meet this Vincent, how would such a meeting be arranged?"

Catherine smiled. Her other self was at least willing to consider the idea. After quickly thinking of several possibilities she finally responded. "There are several places around the Central Park area that have access to Vincent's world. Any one of them could be used as a meeting place. Your balcony would work as well. I can't count how many times Vincent visited me on that balcony." Her smile turned dreamy as she remembered some of those encounters.

Cathy glanced nervously at her balcony doors. "My balcony!? How!?" Dozens of ridiculous ideas swept through her mind along with a hint of fear at the idea of someone that could enter her apartment from that impossible-to-access doorway.

Still lost in the memory of liaisons on the balcony, Catherine missed the look of worry in Cathy's face and responded. "There's an access point in the utility sub-basement of this building. He rides on top of the elevator up to the roof then climbs down to the balcony. He is an excellent climber." Catherine looked at Cathy and noticed the worried look on her face as she glanced again at the balcony doors. She hurried to add a qualification. "We had been meeting out there for well over a year before I finally managed to coax him off the balcony and into the apartment." She finished with a chuckle. "His appearance and his personality are so opposite you would have to meet him to believe it." She paused trying to figure out how to reassure her double that there was no danger.

An uncomfortable silence descended as the two stared at each other trying to think of more to say. They were both surprised by the ringing of Cathy's doorbell. Cathy glanced at her watch as she jumped up. "Who could that be this late in the evening?" She quickly strode over to her door and peered through the peek hole. "What?" She pulled the door open. "Daddy, what are you doing here?"

Charles started speaking as he stepped into the entry. "After your call I started thinking and decided to . . ." His voice faltered as he caught sight of his daughter's guest. He glanced back and forth between the two women, his expression becoming more dumbfounded with each glance. "Uuhhhh . . . Who . . .? What?" His look finally settled on the version of his daughter standing by the open door.

Cathy closed the door, glanced at her other guest, shrugged and began to explain. "It seems that for the last couple of hours I have been literally talking to myself."

Catherine gave a short involuntary snort of a laugh at the comment.

Charles shook his head. "It's a trick, some kind of elaborate scam."

His gaze centered on the doppelganger that he now realized was visibly pregnant. The woman was gazing back at him with an unusually strong look of emotional turmoil on her face and he could swear that she was tearing up as she stared back at him. Then a single tear slid down her cheek.

Cathy stepped up next to her father. "I suspected something similar until she told me things about myself that only I would know. Things I have never told another living soul. Not even you." She took in the look on Catherine's face and came to a decision. "She is definitely me only several years older and, as you can see, pregnant with her third child. She also told me something very important and I have to pass it on to you now while I still can." She paused to grab her nerve in both hands then continued. "She told me that you have an aneurysm in your brain that will kill you if you don't get it treated right away."

Charles shook his head in disbelief. "That is ridiculous." He looked at his daughter. "This whole thing is ridiculous."

Cathy found herself pleading as she gestured toward Catherine. "Can't you see it. She is me, down to the last freckle, and scar, and she has all of my memories. Please, for my sake, have Peter run the tests."

Catherine, with more tears running down her cheeks, jumped in at this point. "Even if you don't believe me, what could it hurt to have yourself tested?" She took a deep shuddering breath. "I lost you several years ago. If not for . . . well it nearly destroyed me. Please, don't make your daughter go through what I went through."

Charles looked into the pleading eyes of his daughter then into the emotion filled eyes of the distraught image of his daughter. He relented. "I will feel like a fool, but I'll do it. I'm due for a physical next week and I'll ask Peter to include the additional tests." He received a hug from his daughter. Then he saw the look-alike relax but the tears continued to flow.

After a moment Catherine managed to pull herself together. She looked down and wiped her eyes with a sniff then spoke softly. "I'm sorry. I didn't expect it to hit me so hard. I've missed you so much." Again, she sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "And being pregnant doesn't help matters either." She looked up at Charles. "I know how hard it is to believe this is real. It's just as hard for me. For the last few hours, I've just been going through the motions in an impossible situation and hoping something would eventually make sense. Then you walked through the door, alive again. It all came crashing in on me at once." Catherine shrugged. "If this saves your life then all this will have been worth it." She looked back down with a sigh. "Now, if I can only figure out how to get back to where I belong." She remarked almost too softly to be heard.

Cathy responded to her remark. "Do you really think that my meeting Vincent will send you back?"

Catherine shrugged. "I don't know. It's really just a shot in the dark, but it was the only thing I could think of." She looked at Cathy with her arms around her father and felt a pang of envy and regret. "I just want to get back where I belong."

Charles looked curiously at his daughter. "Who is Vincent?"

Catherine sighed deeply before responding. "It was Vincent that found me when the muggers dumped my body in the park. Three years later we got married."

Cathy jumped in. "That seems to be where our two . . . worlds diverged." She shrugged. "She thinks that if she can get me and Vincent together it will allow her to return to her own life."

Charles shook his head. "I still say that this whole thing sounds ridiculous."

Catherine shook her head with a snort. "Don't I know it!" She shrugged. "But I only have two options. Either I accept that it's all real and try to do something about it or I accept that I have gone completely insane. Right now, I'm desperately hoping that I'm not insane."

Charles glanced at both women then remarked. "It seems that the best way to resolve this situation is for us to meet this Vincent and see what happens."

Catherine and Cathy looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

Catherine was the one that expressed what they both were thinking. "Oh, brother. This is going to be very interesting, if not a total disaster." Catherine took a deep breath and spoke. "Give me a day to make the arrangements. Maybe I can get Peter to help." She took a couple of steps then paused, becoming very shy as she looked directly at Charles. "Before I go, I was wondering . . ." She looked down building up her courage then looked up at Charles. "Do you think I, uh, that I could have a hug." There was a deep naked need in her expression and in her emotion roughened voice.

After a moment Charles responded to the need he saw in her. "I suppose it won't hurt." Cathy released her hold and he held out his arms to the woman who, after a moment moved in to his tentative embrace. Then a feeling of rightness washed over him as he hugged her in earnest. All of his doubts evaporated. Despite the impossibility of it all, he knew that this was his daughter. After several emotion filled seconds, he released her. "You take care of yourself." He remarked as she moved toward the door. He put his arms around his own daughter as the other one let herself out the door. He looked down at the daughter in his arms. "I knew." He tightened the hug. "As soon as I hugged her, I knew that she really was you."

"Then you believe her?" Cathy asked.

"Yes, I do." He replied, looking at the closed door and shaking his head. "Heaven help me, I really do believe her." He turned his attention to Cathy. "What about you? What do you think?"

"She took a deep breath then replied. "I was just about convinced that she was real by the time you arrived."

Continued in Part 3

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Disclaimer: The 1988 TV show 'Beauty and the Beast' and its characters are owned by Witt-Thomas Productions and Republic Pictures. No infringement on copyrights is intended. This story is presented merely for the enjoyment of fans. Original concepts and story elements may be used by other authors as long as appropriate credit is given.