I know, guys, I'm just as surprised as you are! What can I possibly say? In 2009, which yes was over 6 years ago, I spent a summer alone with nothing but time and I decided to start writing a fanfiction story. I wish, desperately, I could give you all an excuse for dropping off the face of the earth...Alas the reality is pretty much the same sad song you find on this website constantly: life got in the way, I got distracted, I lost my motivation, etc etc.

I apologize.

I decided on a whim, after have a spell of nostalgia, to give this another go. The only thing I promise is that I will try my best to not abandon it this time around. I also have spent some time going back and re-reading some of my old favorite stories on this site and I admit I felt the guilt of leaving those of you who liked this one out to dry. I have a general idea of a plot. I may go back and tweak the earlier chapters eventually as well, but nothing major will change. I'm sorry this chapter isn't terrible long, but I ended it where I thought it should end! :) I'll eventually find a rhythm.

For those of you who left me reviews; thank you. For those of you who felt frustrated because this was left to collect dust for so long; I'm so very sorry. For those of you who stumble upon this story anew; welcome!

For any typos or spelling mistakes, I do also sincerely apologize. I try my best to avoid them but you all know how that goes!

Obvious disclaimer: I own nothing! Just the idea!

Okay, here we go.

The sound of silence was crushing to Catherine; she had never felt more helpless in her life. Well, actually, given recent events she supposed that was an exaggeration..still, as she sat curled up on that small sofa, staring into the darkness ahead of her, she had no idea how she managed to stay so still and quiet. What had she really seen? What was really happening? She saw a monster...he growled at her...and she flung a bowl of soup at him!

With a slight frown, Catherine's eyes fluttered down to the broken bowl that remained in pieces on the stone floor-the soup that was splattered about still had some slight steam flowing up from it. There was no doubt it had to have been painful for...whoever or whatever that was...and suddenly Catherine felt a sharp wave of guilt wash over her. What if she HAD imagined what she had seen? The images all seemed fuzzy in her mind; there was a face...but it looked like an animal's...but clouded in shadows. He spoke to her so gently though! What had he said again..?

Uneasily, Catherine lowered her feet onto the floor and was relieved that a warm carpet covered the cold stone ground. Her head quickly perked to the side, as if expecting something or someone to emerge upon her movement, but nothing came. She sat still for a moment longer, straining to hear any noise at all, but there was nothing but the sound of the crackling fire. Slowly and cautiously, she knelt down in front of the couch and picked up a small piece of the bowl and placed it on the table next to her. While keeping her eyes trained in the doorway, she gingerly began to clean up the mess she had caused; a dozen different thoughts and questions flooding her mind. After a few minutes, the bowl was stacked in its pathetic remains on the table, and as Catherine placed the final piece of it there, she finally bothered to take in her surroundings.

The first thing she really noticed was the very large and intimidating bookshelf in the corner-it appeared to have dozens and dozens of novels lined up neatly on its shelves. The shelf itself was wooden, and looked like it could have been made from scratch; there were carvings of trees and leaves lining the outside of it. There was also a desk that had various maps scattered about its surface, and though it was hard to tell in the dim light, Catherine could make out what almost looked like a subway station guide for NYC-though she wasn't sure. A large globe caught her attention next, and besides that was another seating area that had some dishware and a teapot neatly set in its center. There was a nook located in the room as well, though its entrance was blocked by a darkly colored curtain. Catherine squinted her eyes, and saw what could have been a few petals from a flower peeking out from under it. All in all, the room was actually very cozy, though in the moment Catherine could hardly recognize that.

With a trembling breath, she glanced back down at the broken bowl, and decided the silence was too suffocating to handle. She summoned all the courage she could muster, and closed her eyes as she inhaled sharply; as if bracing for impact.

"...Are you there?" She tried to sound brave, but her voice betrayed her. A few seconds passed, for what felt like eternity for Catherine, when suddenly a deliberately quiet reply came from somewhere unseen.

"I am here."

Catherine wasn't prepared for that voice, and despite her best efforts a gasp escaped from her throat and she instinctively dug her nails into the carpet she was sitting on. She said nothing, but her eyes darted all about the room in a desperate manner. Where was he hiding?

"I understand you are afraid, but I will not harm you."

His voice was so calm! It was smooth and velvety and almost seemed to dance about Catherine's head. She shakily stood up, and took a few steps backwards, before inhaling again and opening her mouth to speak-though the man's voice cut her off.

"I will not harm you." He was wise to repeat the words, as it was apparent this bit of information was hard for Catherine to swallow in that moment. His voice was stern, yet somehow not frightening in the least-there was such reassurance behind what he said, that Catherine somehow knew to believe him.

"Where am I?" She asked; still somewhat timidly.

"In my home; I brought you here last night after I found you."

Alarm bells were ringing in her head all over again. Her eyebrows pushed together, and she glanced down at the floor to where her sneakers were still thoughtfully sitting by the couch. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I wanted to help you."

"Why not bring me to a hospital?"

She heard a soft sigh that seemed to flutter and bounce off the walls of the room. A moment passed, as if the man was trying to think of how to answer her. Catherine's heels dug into the carpet as she suddenly began to feel weary all over again, but as if he could somehow sense her concern, his reply came quietly to her.

"I felt there was no time to bring you anywhere else…and you had lost a lot of blood. I had the supplies to mend your wounds here…"

"Did you call the police?"

"I did not."

"Why not?" Her voice cracked finally, and tears of frustration and fear began to well up in her eyes. She winced as she felt the prickling of her cheeks, and she quickly turned her face to the side so that he couldn't see it. Or at least she assumed he couldn't see it; truthfully she had no idea where he was hiding.

His voice seemed broken, almost as if he was suffering from the same emotions as she. Catherine didn't quite understand it, but she slowly turned her face back around as she listened to his answer.

"I had no way to call them."

A few more moments of silence passed as Catherine tried her best to process this information, and slowly her shoulders fell in a subconscious submission. "Why are you hiding?" She lifted her head and stared out through the dark doorway again, and this time she could hear a slight shuffle and she knew that is where he had been standing the entire time.

"I don't want to scare you again."

It felt like someone punched her in the gut, and Catherine surprised herself by only slowly sinking to sit back down on the couch and running a hand down her face. "I'm sorry..." she mumbled the apology under her breath; it felt forced, but she honestly did not know what else to say. She heard nothing from the man, and only slumped her shoulders while keeping her gaze tiredly on the fireplace. "I think I...saw...I thought-"

"You saw what you saw. I did not think, and I am sorry for what happened.." Catherine could almost hear what sounded like a wince escape from the man. "I thought you would have recognized my voice...and..." He faltered; awkwardly and not without a hint of deep regret.

This took all of her attention! She turned her head around; her blonde curls flying over her shoulder, and stared at the shadowed doorway. Her eyes must have been adjusting to the dark finally, for she could make out what looked like a very large silhouette - but it was obvious he was wearing some type of hood. Gradually, Catherine began to recall fragments of her dreams from the previous night, and she suddenly realized that he had been speaking to her while she had been in and out of consciousness. Her hands came up to hold onto the back of the couch as she turned her body to face him, though she remained sitting down.

"You helped me-", she paused and huffed under her breath; frustrated at herself for stating the obvious and sounding so childish in her words. "Please come out. I won't scream again..." Her voice choked a bit, and it was obvious she wasn't entirely sure if she could keep her word. He seemed to have noticed this as well, and she thought she heard what sounded like a cynical little laugh under his breath.

"You saw what you saw."

The words slowly registered in her head, as he repeatedly them with a sense of defeat, and Catherine gripped onto the cushions a little more tightly. It could have been the doubtless sorrow whispering through his voice, or maybe the sad way the light from the fire danced along the broken pieces of the bowl she had thrown at him, but without thinking twice she sat up a little straighter and bowed her head to him in guilt. "Are you...", she paused, before sighing a little in a an exasperated way. "Do you have some type of deformity..?" Her words could have been interpreted as cruel, but Catherine did her best to allow her sincerity to show within them. She just didn't quite know how to speak to him.

"I suppose...some people might call it that. I am not sure, to be honest with you. I just...am what I am."

Catherine took a breath and nodded, though she wasn't sure if it was to acknowledge him or to prepare herself for what was to come.

"Please step into the light...?"

There was a moment of hesitation, but sure enough he came forward very slowly. Catherine looked down at his feet as the light began to flicker about them. Well, they looked like a perfectly normal pair of booted feet. He was wearing a cloak as she suspected, so the only thing she could really take in was his size-he was enormous and would easily tower over her even if she were standing. Catherine's eyes flitted up to his face, and sure enough, just like he had repeated to her numerous times...she had seen what she had seen. Her mouth opened slightly, but no noise came out, and she tried her best to keep her eyes from going wide but truly she could not help it. As soon as their eyes met, he stopped, and his own narrowed at her. He obviously was preparing for her to react the same way she had before, but this time she was stunned into silence. Catherine began to blink numerous times, and took deep breaths, as if she was trying to see if she really was dreaming or not. Wake up…she was not asleep. Was she suppose to faint? It seemed like the right thing to do...yet she remained still. And awake. She was not dreaming, and she was not swooning. He waited, patiently, for her to take him all in. While in the moment she could not recognize it, his eyelids did lift a little as she finally spoke; breathlessly.

"You're...-"

"Vincent."

A moment passed. Catherine's eyes remained locked with his. She still did not faint, and shockingly, she did not scream either. Finally, after what felt like agonizing minutes, she found her voice again as it quivered about in her throat.

"Holy shit."

"Catherine? You home?" Joe knocked a few times on her apartment door, before frowning when he heard nothing in response. Her keys, which she had left carelessly on her desk, jingled slightly in his hand as he tossed them up and down in an idle manner. "I tried calling you, but..." his voice trailed off, realizing that he was probably talking to himself. He could easily unlock her door, leave the keys inside for her, with a note explaining why he had been there and reassuring her that, no, he didn't go through her underwear drawer, but even for Joe that seemed to push the limit. He would just have to settle for teasing her relentlessly whenever she got around to returning his calls.

Turning on his heel, he began to whistle to himself as he strolled away from her apartment. Mr. Lindale was peering out from his own complex, and he cleared his throat as Joe walked by. "Do you know where she is?" Joe jumped a bit in alarm, before relaxing as he met the old man's tired glance. "No, not a clue..." He held up her keys and shrugged his shoulders. "She left these at work yesterday. She hasn't been returning my calls, though honestly that ain't nothing new."

Mr. Lindale frowned, before glancing down at the kitten that appeared in between his feet. While he wasn't very close to Catherine, he knew her well enough as a neighbor, and felt her absence was very out of character. He tried to push away any fears or concern, and decided it was wise not to jump to conclusions. Catherine was a young lady, after all, and if she was anything like his granddaughters it was possible she just went out partying and stayed the night at someone else's place. Upon looking at Joe's expression, Mr. Lindale decided to keep that opinion to himself. "Will you please let her know, when you hear from her, that her cat is with me? He wandered into my place last night. She owes me for cat sitting!" He winked and forced a smile, and Joe smirked back at him. "Yeah, sure thing, Mr. L!"

Joe made his way down into the main lobby of Catherine's building, and decided to leave her keys with the manager. He wrote a little note asking her to call him, and telling her where Pan was, and joked that she owed him dinner for safely returning her keys. When Joe left, he couldn't help but glance up at Catherine's window, and frowned slightly when he saw it was open. The lacey curtains wafted about in the winter air, and not a sign of life revealed itself from inside. For some reason, he had a knot in his stomach he couldn't quite explain, but he carried on with hailing for a cab regardless-completely oblivious to the dried blood splatter that had frozen to the railing of the fire escape from the previous night.

A/N: Again, sorry for the short length. Seems like I owe everyone a longer addition, since I've been away for so long, but I'll try to get the next chapter out sooner rather than later!