Chapter Eight:
"Vincent!" Catherine wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, holding him as tightly as she could."I thought I'd never see you again," she whispered. "I was so afraid – so sure I was dying – that I was leaving you with the terrible burden of finding our son alone."
"Shh," he held her close. "I was never alone – you were always with me. And we will find him." Her warmth filled him, her belief gave him strength – Kate was right, he needed to be here, now. He needed Catherine as much as she needed him; heneeded her warmth and her love; and if anyone could keep Elliot safe, it would be Kate.
"I know we will find him. I have faith in that, Vincent. But – you must tell me – I felt something – your fear – what's wrong, where were you?"
"I saw Elliot Burch."
"Elliot – he didn't –"
"Yes. He saw me. He knows."
"He knows," she whispered, trying to digest it, wondering what Elliot might do with the knowledge of Vincent's existence.
"I sought him out a few weeks ago – he has been a good friend to me at a time when I felt as if no one else believed I would find you alive. He never gave up hope, never. His strength fortified my resolve when the night seemed so dark that even I began to fear seeing you again – oh Catherine, you are so beautiful! Even when I knew I would find you, I was still so afraid. Elliot helped me to find the courage to continue looking even when I feared I had failed you."
Catherine touched his cheek, wiping away the tears that fell – felt the softness of the silken fur – she took in his smell – oh she thought she'd never see him again, never touch him, never hear the sound of his voice. What must Elliot have thought when he first saw Vincent's face and realized that this was the man she loved? How had he found the courage to look on Vincent – to realize – and to help a stranger? "How much does he know?"
"He does not know where I come from or where I go – only that I exist. That we have a child – that I love you. He loves you enough to be happy for us. He loves you enough to risk his life for us."
"Vincent, where is he?"
"I don't know – he was taken by Moreno. Kate follows. She will keep him safe."
Kate. Catherine had always imagined that a guardian angel would be some impossibly gentle, beautiful creature filled with nothing but love – now she knew better. Terribly powerful, hurt – but compassionate – yes, Kate would keep Elliot safe. "I'm glad she sent you back to me," Catherine pulled Vincent closer. "Lay with me for a while?"
Vincent eased himself down next to her – she pulled in close, holding herself to his chest – seeking out his strength and his warmth.
"Elliot will be safe – and we will find our son," he whispered, stroking her silken hair. How long it had grown in the last six months – how much more beautiful she was now, than even in his dreams or memories. How sweet her voice – how wonderful the comfort of her touch.
"I know," Catherine felt herself drifting off into sleep…
-
Fin got to his car; he could still see the beemer – slowly, he told himself. If he sped out after it, he'd only draw their attention. He wondered where Bennett was…and he wondered if he'd seen a ghost or just the specter of his own imagination…Kate Zito…
-
Diana followed the shrouded figure as far as the basement of an old apartment building; he went into the shadows and she lost the trail. Discouraged and frustrated, she started back home – then changed her course, heading for Catherine Chandler's apartment instead. She wasn't entirely surprised to find Joe Maxwell there, in the dark, just sitting in Chandler's living room staring out the window. Diana joined him without a word – without even reaching for the light switch. She took his hand - he didn't resist - she could feel his pain. There was no comfort for him - but perhaps not being alone might help, some...
-
Elliot sat in silence – there was nothing to say. He knew Moreno was guilty – and Moreno knew that he knew. They both knew that there was a very good chance that Elliot wouldn't walk away from this encounter alive – Moreno had too much at stake. Apparently, so did Gabriel.
At last the car pulled over and stopped – the man with the white hair opened the door. Elliot recognized the area, more or less – the waterfront. "Nice night for a sail," he mused softly. "Or a swim."
The white haired man smirked. "You're very perceptive, Mr. Burch."
On silent feet, Kate dropped into the shadows from the rooftop… the pier. Not a good sign. She could smell Gabriel – he was here. But the child was not. If she was going to find the baby, she couldn't kill Gabriel – at least not yet…damn it all to hell and back!
Patience, the crow said. It found a perch on the big boat Burch had been escorted into.
Kate slunk through the darkness towards the yacht. It looked like the ones she'd seen on TV, on that show about how rich people lived. Her eyes saw through the darkness – she heard the voices coming from deep inside – Gabriel! She cursed his name again. She sat and listened. Patience…
-
Fin followed the beemer to the pier – he watched Moreno and Elliot and the white haired dude get out and walk to one of the yachts. They went in…and then, out of the night, a big black bird came flying, settling on the mast – Fin recognized it. It was impossible that it could be the same crow – but his gut told him that it was, just like his gut had told him that it was the same crow every month at her grave, waiting… waiting for what, he still wondered.
Out of the shadows came a girl…Fin watched her, watching the boat – she seemed to be…listening….but that was impossible. Her presence here was impossible….but there she was, a hundred feet from him...Kate Zito.
-
Burch looked on the face of evil – the face of the man who had kidnapped and tormented Cathy for six months. He kept his expression neutral, while silently wishing for some way to disembowel the man standing less than two feet from him.
"Catherine Chandler is dead," Gabriel said, matter of factly.
Burch closed his eyes for a moment – thank God, at least Gabriel really believed that she was dead. He wouldn't go looking for her. "So?" he asked at last.
"She died peacefully. Can I offer you a drink? You like scotch, I'm told."
Elliot shrugged.
"I know you've been meeting with Vincent."
Elliot had a harder time keeping surprise from showing at that revelation. Still, he shrugged as if he was either disinterested or didn't know what Gabriel meant.
"Vincent? Who's Vincent?" Moreno asked from his chair, in the corner. The man with the white hair, standing next to him, put one hand on Moreno's shoulder, silencing him.
Gabriel went on, as if Moreno wasn't even there, "And I know what – more or less – Vincent is. Do you, Mr. Burch? Have you seen his face?"
"Sorry. I don't know what you're talking about," Elliot managed to affect a bored sounding tone in his voice.
Gabriel laughed, "You know, I think I like you," he poured a drink and handed it over.
Elliot took the glass from the man's hand, resisting the urge to throw it back in his face. He sipped it. "Not bad."
Gabriel laughed some more. "It should be more than 'not bad' – do you have any idea how much this scotch cost?"
"Probably – five or six hundred dollars a bottle." Elliot sipped it a little more.
"Very good – you're a very discerning man. So – what do you know about Vincent, where does he come from?"
Elliot shrugged, "You've got me. He never said."
"Well then – perhaps you can help me to arrange a meeting. I'm sure he'd like to see his son – oh did you know that?"
Elliot's expression remained impassive.
"Yes, I think you did. What do you say, would you like to be part of a little father-son reunion?"
-
Kate held her breath – Vincent trusted this man…she wondered if he'd placed his trust incorrectly…
-
Elliot gazed down into the dark amber liquid, then looked directly into Gabriel's black eyes."Sorry. You'll have to find some other go-between."
"That was the wrong answer, Mr. Burch."
Elliot raised his glass to Gabriel, "Guess I'll see you again in Hell, then." He finished it.
"Pity. I do like you, Mr. Burch. Kill him, please," he said to the white haired man; he raised his own gun to Moreno, who started sniveling. "You've become far more trouble than you're worth, I'm afraid," he said, almost as an apology.
Elliot braced himself; the white haired man raised his gun, a slight look of boredom on his whethered face. There are worse ways to die, Elliot mused; a bullet through the heart or brain was definately preferable to drowning...
-
Fin watched Kate slide through the darkness towards the yacht – he drew his gun and followed…
-
A dark blurdove into the room – the gun went off - Elliot was hardly aware that there was a girl standing between he and the bullet...
Katefelt the lead pierce her skin, push her back– damn, that hurt! She laughed it off, "You're gonna have to do better than that, blondie!"
Wide eyed, he shot again – her heart – and again – this time at Burch – she pushed him out of the way – heard him curse as the bullet hit…
"Freeze – police!" Fin shouted, as he ran down the steps, hearing gunfire and maniacal laughter. He saw – Kate – bleeding from the shoulder and chest – Elliot Burch wounded in the leg – Moreno shot dead…and the white haired guy going out another door.
"You know, detective, you have lousy timing," Kate looked at him – if he hadn't announced himself as a cop, she might have been able to get something from blondie before she killed him… Then she recognized him and instantly regretted her words – he'd already beaten himself up enough for her murder…a sound – click, click, click… "Um – time to go," She grabbed Burch by the arm. "Now – haul ass, both of you!"
"What – who are you?" Burch dragged himself despite the pain – he'd seen her laugh off a bullet. He'd seen the second bullet hit her square in the chest…
"I promised a mutual friend I'd keep your ass alive," she told him. "And I can't do that if you don't hurry."
Fin followed up the steps – he saw the bird take off into the darkness – it was following a small motor boat speeding down the river…
Moments later, the yacht blew up…
Kate landed on top of Burch – she heard him muffle a scream of pain as he landed on his wounded leg.
"How did you know it was going to blow?" Elliot asked, sitting up.
"I heard it."
"What the hell is going on?" Fin demanded. "Kate – Kate Zito?" He was seeing – but he couldn't make his rational mind believe. He'd been to her grave – she was dead. He knew she was dead…but here she was. There was blood on her sweater – but no wound in her shoulder – he'd seen it, a moment ago, he knew he had… there was a puddle of blood on her chest – but if she'd been shot in the chest…she'd be dead…but she was already dead…?
"You know each other?" Elliot asked, still trying to make sense of what had happened back there…
"Not exactly," Kate said, favouring Fin with a smile, "But thanks for the flowers."
"You – you're alive?"
"No. Not any more. Can you get Burch to a hospital? I have to see a bird about a man."
"If I go to the hospital, there'll be too many questions," Burch said. "I'll be fine."
"Like hell you will!" Fin looked at him – it probably wasn't serious – but it was serious enough that Burch needed a doctor. "I'll handle the questions. Kate? You really are Kate Zito?" He felt like he knew her – he'd never talked to her – but he'd read her diary – he suddenly felt ashamed of that. "I saw – what they did to you…" He'd seen her body, beaten, bloody – broken. "It's not possible. I go to your grave every month!"
"I know."
Then Fin looked into the dark recesses of her eyes…and he began to believe in what he was seeing… "What happened?"
"Gabriel happened," she told him. "And now I'm going to happen to him. Elliot, tell Vincent that I'll find a way to get word to him as soon as I find out where Gabriel is."
"He comes to me, I don't know how to get in touch with him."
She smiled, "Sure you do," and she touched his cheek, gently, pushing the images into his mind. A tunnel – a safe haven – a secret to be kept at all cost – a chamber – a bed – Catherine safe.
Elliot's heart leapt with wild joy -hearing the words was one thing - but now he saw - now he knew. She was alive! She was safe and warm and well…Elliot took Kate's hand, held it tightly andwhispered, "Thank you. I'll contact him as soon as I can."
"You're welcome." She looked to Fin, "Take care of him, will you?"
"Sure."
"And Detective – thank you," Kate leaned down and kissed his cheek.
"For what?" Fin touched the place her lips had touched...so cold...
"For believing in Andy, even when it cost you so much."
His brows knit together in a questioning frown.
"A little birdie told me about your wife," She stood and headed into the shadows…
Fin opened his mouth to say something – but she was gone. He looked at Burch.
"It's ok to believe in miracles," Elliot told him.
"Yeah – I think you might be on to something. Can you stand?"
"I think so," he leaned on Fin's strength. "There's something else you should know – Catherine Chandler is alive."
If someone had told him that an hour ago, Fin might not have believed them, but now… "I'll call Maxwell as soon as we get that leg looked at."
Fin got Elliot to the emergency room, flashing his badge and claiming that the man had been shot while on police business…as soon as Elliot was safely in surgery – the bullet was lodged in muscle – he found a pay phone. Joe didn't answer at home.
He tried Diana's pager. Moments later, his own pager went off with a number… Joe answered. By the time Elliot was in recovery, Diana and Joe were in the main lobby. Fin told them almost the whole story. He didn't know quite how to say that the real hero had been a dead girl – so he just said that when he shouted 'police', Gabriel and his goons ran, leaving he and Burch to haul ass out of there – they had no idea that the boat was going to blow…it was close enough. The truth was that if Kate hadn't been there, he and Burch would probably both be dead. Fin had the feeling that she wouldn't mind not getting the credit…
"There's one more thing," Fin said to them. "Elliot says that Chandler is alive."
Diana caught Joe as he nearly fell down, and eased him to a chair. "That's impossible," she said. "I saw the coroner's report – I talked to the coroner. She's dead."
Fin shook his head – he looked Joe Maxwell straight in the eye. "Elliot told me something else, that it's ok to believe in miracles. If he says she's alive, I believe him."
"Where is she?" Joe wanted to know.
"I don't know – but – I think she's some place safe."
"You think?"
"I know," Fin said, with conviction. "I know she's safe. I saw it on Elliot's face. She's alive and she's safe."
"What about the baby?"
Fin shook his head, "They're still looking for him."
"Diana – we have to find Gabriel – he's out there, he has Cathy's kid. He killed Moreno, he damn near killed Burch – and no matter where she is, Cathy won't be safe from him until he's behind bars."
Diana Bennett looked from one man to the other – believe in miracles, Chandler alive, Moreno dead…and Vincent, this mystery man who barely seemed to exist… "All right. I'll see what I can find."
"Excuse me, Detective," a nurse stepped towards them. "Your friend is in recovery now – you can see him in just a little while."
"Thanks," Fin told her. His friend. Elliot Burch – what the hell, he'd had a strange enough night to start calling a guy like Burch his friend…
-
May it be an evening star Mornie utúlië (darkness has come) May it be shadows call Mornie utúlië (darkness has come)
Shines down upon you
May it be when darkness falls
Your heart will be true
You walk a lonely road
Oh, how far you are from home
Believe and you will find your way
Mornie alantië (darkness has fallen)
A promise lives within you now
Will fly away
May it be your journey on
To light the day
When the night is overcome
You may rise to find the sun
Believe and you will find your way
Mornie alantië (darkness has fallen)
A promise lives within you now
A promise lives within you now
Enya
-
Into the darkness…down and down…through the black velvet of night, Catherine's dreams lead her on the wings of a great black bird, until others stood around her. Dressed in black, faces of death – and she understood…a solitary man came forward from the crowd – he could be American Indian, she supposed, from the look of him, in his mid thirties, yet ageless. Long dark hair streaked with wisps of silver, high cheek bones and almond shaped eyes; his eyes were dark and showed a soul that had known both joy and pain – the soul of a father taken too soon from his child. The soul of a man who understood. He smiled, a kind smile. Have faith in what you believe, Catherine.
I have faith that Kate will help us find our son, she replied, silently; her words filled the space between them.
"She draws close to the man who has him," the man said aloud. "She draws closer to her own truth – will you be there to help her, as she has helped you?"
"Yes. We both will."
"You will not be alone."
The man held out his hand to her – Catherine took it, thinking he only wanted to shake her hand, but as they touched, the dream vision shimmered...she saw the water front - a yatch - she could even smell the rotting fish and salty water that lapped up against the hulls of the boats – she saw Kate and Elliot – gunfire – Kate put herself between Elliot and the bullets - she had taken Vincent's place in saving him from harm. She took a bullet in the shoulder and another in the heart – would even he have survived such a wound? Then there was a man Catherine didn't know, tall and dark. Kate knew him, recognized him as the man who had put flowers on her grave – he spoke to the crow every month… there was an explosion – Kate made the man take Elliot to a doctor while she pursued Gabriel…over the water – faster and faster the crow flew, black against the night sky…
Then, the man withdrew his hand from hers, and Catherine felt knew that it was almost time. She lifted her head to thank him for showing her – he was gone; they were all gone… only the crows remained…
For half a frightened instant, Catherine was unsure where she was when she woke – the honey-sweet scent of the soap Vincent used – his own pleasant musk – the smell of fresh linens and old books…the tapping of the pipes – the sure, strong warmth of the body next to hers – the rise and fall of his chest. It hadn't been a dream. She was here. She was alive. She opened her eyes and smiled at the sleeping form next to her – he seemed so deeply asleep – had he slept at all in the last six months? Catherine traced the lines of his face with her finger tips – the high cheek bones, the furred ridge of his nose – his strong brow and the thick hair falling around his shoulders…he stirred slightly, but sleep held him firmly in it's grasp. Catherine smiled – she was just as glad. He must be weary to the bone.
Carefully, Catherine slipped from his side; she ached – but she'd lost too much of her life – she didn't want to spend any more time in bed. Pulling a thick shawl around her shoulders, she stole from the chamber; although it was impossible to tell time in the Tunnels, there was no one about – and only a few messages tapping back and forth on the pipes. The hour must be either late or early.
Softly, Catherine stole away from the main hub – she was uncertain where her feet were carrying her until she found herself at the park entrance. She felt Vincent stir – he was waking, finding her not there – afraid – then he could feel her, sense that she was safe, just a little restless. She had never before felt him so strongly as she did now – since Kate had brought her back from the darkness. Catherine smiled – he would follow her, she was sure.
She stepped out into the pre-dawnlight of the park– near by a jogger was pounding the pavement – birds sang. Tulips were blooming – Catherine smiled. In the east, the sky was just beginning to lighten – the day would be overcast, it seemed – perhaps it would rain. Catherine felt a stirring and wasn't particularly surprised to see Elliot approaching through the trees – he'd known where to come to find her. Kate had shown him, though Catherine didn't know how she knew that…Elliot wasn't alone – that didn't surprise her either. Sooner or later, Joe was bound to find out about her secret, the 'double life' she led – sooner or later…she'd hoped for later, but that was a lifetime ago…She waited, just outside the storm drain…
Elliot, leaning heavily on a cane to support his weight, made his way through the park through the sheer tenacity of will (and a small dose of codine). He hurt – he didn't care. He knew where to find her, he wasn't waiting. And there she stood like an angel against the gloom – waiting. He heard Joe's sharp intake of breath and realized that the other probably hadn't really believed him when he said he knew where to find her. Joe had probably thought he was crazy, leaving the hospital just a few short hours after waking up from surgery. Hell, he'd have left earlier if he could get the nurses to get the paperwork together any faster. As it was, he'd had to sign an AMA – against medical advice form. Whatever – here he was. And there she was. Alive. He was close enough to see her face…
Catherine smiled as they approached – she could feel Vincent almost there.
"Tell me I'm not dreaming," Joe stopped just short of her, afraid to believe his own eyes. There she stood – alive. Breathing. She looked a little tired – but there she was, dressed in layers of white and tawny browns, wrapped in a knitted shawl – it was like she'd stepped out of another world…maybe she had…he hadn't believed Elliot when he directed Joe to drive to the park…the park. What was in the park? But…here she was, like a dream in the morning fog.
"You're not dreaming." Catherine went to him – held him tight – he hesitated at first – then she felt his arms around her, tentative, then tight, as if afraid to let go – the shudders and the tears. She never thought she'd see the day that Joe Maxwell cried – Catherine just held him, not saying a word. She didn't want to draw attention to the fact that he was crying, even in a whisper. She hoped that her very presence would be enough to convince him that everything was all right. Only after she was certain he believed that she was real, did Catherine turn to Elliot - he hung back - giving Joe the space he needed - giving her the space he believed she needed...Catherine remembered her dream – he'd been shot in the leg. He must have been in surgery only hours ago. "You shouldn't be walking around so soon," she told him.
"Probably not," he couldn't quite meet her gaze – and was surprised when he felt her hand on his – her fingers twining around his.
"Thank you."
"For what?" Elliot asked, feeling ashamed – he had done so little. He'd betrayed a trust that wasn't even his to betray – but there was no stopping Joe from coming now – and he deserved to see her. He deserved it more than Elliot felt he himself did.
Catherine squeezed his hand tighter. "You've been a wonderful friend."
"I didn't do anything – not really."
"You keep selling yourself short, Elliot," said a soft voice from the shadows of the storm drain; he stepped out, just enough – it was time. Inside, he knew it was time – not for the whole world to see – that time would never be. But it was time for the other man in Catherine's life to see – to know. To understand…
Joe took three steps back, unable to form a single coherent thought. He could only see a little of it through the shadows of the hood he wore…but that face…it seemed so …inhuman…golden…fur? Or was it some trick of the sunlight…?
"Come – it is nearly day. And you both should be resting," Vincent gave both Catherine and Elliot reproachful looks, before slipping back into the shadows of the storm drain.
"We can't," Elliot protested. He wanted to – more than almost anything, he wanted to see where Vincent came from – but he wasn't worthy of the privilege. Maybe he shouldn't be speaking for Joe – but Maxwell was such a pragmatist – how would he cope with the knowledge of what must lie within the shadows…?
Catherine drew both he and Joe by the hand, silently pulling them into the tunnel…
"Catherine?" Elliot asked her.
"I'm sure," she said softly. "Joe – are you all right?"
"Not really."
She chuckled softly. "That's all right. Elliot, there's a lever just behind you – yes, thank you," she said, as the door slid shut.
Joe looked at it – a secret entrance into…what? Walls – sandy ground – and a tunnel that led – under the park? Under the city? How far? Too many questions…too many possibilities…and the door behind them was shut…now what? He looked to the tall creature again – it looked strong…its hands were clawed…they looked sharp…
Once safely behind the secret door, Vincent drew back his hood, so that his face was clearly visible in the soft golden light of the tunnels.
Joe opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He shut it, the opened it, trying again to say – what? He didn't know. It was as if his brain wasn't working properly. Bits of memory surfaced – Cathy's ability to walk away from the occasional brush with disaster – her vanishing off the map just before she came to work for him – hadn't she said she'd been attacked…reports of people dying, slashed or mauled to death…especially recently…the rash of violent deaths that had culminated in the scene found two nights ago… The red and white rose bush Diana Bennett found in Cathy's apartment…those books on Cathy's shelves, lovingly signed with Vincent's name, clearly gifts from the man…yet not a single photograph of the mystery guy…the world seemed to have tilted strangely on it's axis and Joe didn't quite know how to make it tilt back again – he felt like Alice suddenly down a very unfriendly rabbit hole… How could something like this live here – and yet no one knew about it? Joe looked at its cloths: a long black leather cloak with bits fringe here and there, a thickly padded grey vest over a couple of layers of shirts – they looked like something out of another time…so did the tall leather boots and grey pants…where did this thing come from? More importantly, Joe wondered if there were more at home like it…
"This is Vincent," Catherine said simply.
"Vincent." Joe repeated. Vincent.
"Joe Maxwell," Vincent said softly.
"You know who I am?"
"How could I not know the name of one of Catherine's dearest friends?"
"Oh." Slowly, his thoughts began to gel. Vincent. The boyfriend. Joe looked at the face for a good long while – the hair – the hands – the cloths… He has a heart like yours, she had said; maybe, but it was a face that only a mother could love…and what had produced this – Vincent? What sort of offspring had this Vincent produced…how…he looked to Catherine, searching for some answer that wouldn't make his brain hurt.
"Joe?" Catherine asked.
"I'm just – digesting this, Radcliff. It's been a hell of a couple of weeks." Hell, it had been a hell of a year…he looked over at Burch, hoping for a little moral support here – but the man seemed totally unfazed by what was standing before them.
"Vincent," Elliot said softly, "Kate took off after Gabriel – she said she'd find a way to contact you as soon as she could."
"Kate?" Joe wanted to know – Burch hadn't mentioned any 'Kate' before now…
"Thank you," Vincent replied to Elliot. "I am sorry I did not follow. If she was not there, I would have." As it was, guilt still racked his heart – he had left Elliot and Elliot had been shot…
"No – I'm glad you didn't. Cathy needs you," he have her a shy glance. "Your son needs you."
"Who's Kate?" Joe asked again.
"Kate is a friend," Catherine told him patiently. "And this man, Gabriel – he took my son. Our son," she took Vincent's hand, taking no small comfort in its warmth. They'd find their son – but in the meantime, they had each other. After six long, terrifying months – they had each other, she could touch him – smell him – feel his warmth. She was once again filled with the quiet joy of the bond they shared.
"So – you really did – you and him – a kid?" Joe looked from one to the other – and over at Burch – and then back again. (Burch was offering no help whatsoever…) "The coroner said you were dead, Radcliff – the blood they found was full of morphine, enough to kill you twice over! Do you know what that felt like?"
"I can only imagine," she told him.
"I thought I'd never see you again – I've been trying to piece together what happened so I could at least kill the son of a bitch who killed you – then Burch says you're alive – I'll tell you the truth, I didn't believe him."
"If it hadn't been for Kate, I would be dead, Joe. She saved my life."
Joe frowned, shook his head – next thing he'd be playing some silly game with mallets with the Queen of Hearts… "They found amniotic fluid – I didn't believe it, even after someone talked to the nurse who told you. You said it was the flu." Joe realized just how angry at her he was – he'd thought she had the flu – he'd thought she was dead…she'd had a baby. She was alive. He was happy – but part of him was furious at her for putting him through the last twenty-four hours of hell!
"I thought it was the flu. I truly did – when I gave blood, the nurse told me. I was working out how I was going to tell you – I hadn't even told Vincent yet."
"You hadn't?" Joe asked, startled. Hadn't even told him yet? Well – ok – so maybe he could forgive her, if she hadn't even told the father yet…father…her and him? The thought continued to boggle his mind…
"I hadn't found the words yet. Joe, I wouldn't have kept you in the dark forever – I just didn't know how to say it. I'd barely had the chance to get used to the idea when Gabriel's men took me."
"What – what happened?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know – but he had to know.
"They took me. They held me. They had doctors taking care of me. After I gave birth, Gabriel told the doctor to kill me and he injected enough morphine to do it. A painless death he said," her voice was heavy with bitterness. "Only a bastard like that could think a mother dying without even holding her son in her arms is dying a painless death."
"Oh god," Joe wished that Vincent had gotten his hands of this Gabriel, too…because looking at those hands he had to assume that Vincent was the one who had torn through that building…
"Vincent came for me," Catherine went on. "He'd found me but he was too late to stop Gabriel – but he brought me – home." Home – she hoped that Vincent and Father and all the rest realized that she was never leaving here again.
"You live – here?" Joe looked to Vincent.
"Yes."
"How? Where?"
"Joe," Elliot looked to him. "It doesn't really matter, does it?" He already felt as if he knew more than he deserved to, though he was grateful for the trust. He of all people had done nothing to earn it. "What's important is that Cathy is all right."
Joe shook his head – Burch had a point, it really didn't matter. Not right now anyway. Later he'd want answers, but for now – he gave Vincent a long appraising look. "You're Vincent. The same Vincent she's been – dating." The word seemed absurd. How did you date a guy who lived in a sewer under Central Park? How did someone like Cathy Chandler date a guy who lived in a sewer under Central Park! "And you're responsible for what happened in that two nights ago?" He looked from the man-beast to Catherine.
"Joe," Elliot said again, "It doesn't matter."
"Like hell it doesn't!"
"Joe," Catherine put her hand on his shoulder. "You're right – it does matter. But there are things going on that are beyond most people's ability to reconcile with their ideas of reality." She remembered Kristopher, the artist who had painted their portrait…the artist who was supposed to have been dead…were it not for that encounter, she wondered how easily her mind might reject the things that she knew now. Even now, there were still things that were hard to reconcile – but she knew she'd been dying and that Kate had brought her back, somehow. She knew that Kate was no ordinary human being. And to an extent, Elliot was right – the details didn't matter, not right now. All that really mattered was finding their son.
Joe looked up at Vincent again. "I guess this at least explains why you didn't come forward when she vanished. Just – tell me if you're behind what happened in that building where she was being held – it's not like I wouldn't have liked to have ripped those guys apart myself."
"It was not me."
Joe paled – had Vincent been the one behind that much carnage, he would have felt – almost ok about it. He didn't believe in vigilante justice – but maybe, sometimes, in the dark of night he wished that some of the bad guys would really end up dead in an alley somewhere… And he could understand that if this guy really loved Cathy he might put those claws to use and tear through the guys who had hurt her – he knew he'd've done it, if he could.
"Gabriel has hurt many people," Vincent explained.
"I don't understand." Kate? Joe wondered. They said she'd gone after Gabriel – and that she was a friend. What had really happened last night? Burch told him that Moreno took him to Gabriel and that Moreno was dead. There was an explosion – but Burch had neglected to fill in any of the details and even Fin wasn't talking. How had they survived – Kate again?
Even Elliot, having seen Kate in action didn't understand. He'd been sure that he was a dead man – he wasn't expecting any rescue. He hadprayed that Vincentwouldn't follow – that he was safe with Catherine, where he belonged. Elliot would take his own chances – he'd meant it when he told Gabriel that they'd meet again in Hell. Then – he saw this girl take the bullet meant for him – he'd been horrified. She was just a child – until she stood back up and laughed…"She saved my life too," he told Maxwell. "Last night. Gabriel would have killed me if she hadn't been there."
Joe frowned. "So what – she's like him?"
"No," said Catherine, "She's not like Vincent. To look at her you might never know that she was something apart from the rest of the world."
"Apart? Apart how? No wait, let me guess, it doesn't matter," Joe looked to Burch before the man could even speak.
Catherine smiled. "I know it's a lot all at once. I never meant for you to find out like this."
"You never meant for me to find out at all," he said, realizing as he said the words how much they stung. Vincent had gone to Elliot Burch, not him. He'd been her friend for three years – Burch was some slime ball…no, he realized, Burch wasn't a slime ball. Maybe he had been – but he'd gone out on a limb for Cathy – no doubt for Vincent, too. It still hurt that they had gone to Burch and not him…
"Joe – I keep the secrets that I keep not just for myself and Vincent, but for others as well," she told him. "It was never my place to tell you or anyone else."
"So what now?" Joe looked from her to Vincent, to Burch, feeling like an outsider.
"Moreno is dead," Elliot said to Catherine. "Gabriel had him killed – not that I think anyone will ever be able to prove it," he told her about the explosion, how Kate hauled him out of the boat – if not for her, he was sure he'd be dead. Neither he nor Fin had been aware of the bomb – Kate had heard it somehow.
Catherine realized that she already knew that, too – she'd seen it – seen so much…through the eyes of a crow… "Joe – I'm sorry, I knowJim was your friend," she took his hands into hers, offering comfort. She was surprised by the coldness in his eyes.
"No. Maybe once – but he hurt you. He almost killed you – even if it wasn't with his own hands – he would have been just as guilty if you'd died. This Gabriel took you – held you – almost killed you. I could never forgive Moreno for that."Joe looked at her – would she want everyone to keep on believing that she was dead, so she could just slip away and begin some new life, under the city with this Vincent? "Everyone still thinks you're dead."
"I know. For now it has to stay that way," Catherine told him. "Not forever. Just for now. Just until we find our son."
"I don't get it – why – why did he keep the kid?" Joe looked from mother to father – he didn't want to really think about how – he knew the basics of the birds and bees…but….
"He only kept me alive because of the child," she told him. "He saw Vincent – he understood."
Joe blinked. The idea of a madman out there, knowing about Vincent was a whole lot scarier than Vincent just existing. "The baby – is – like him?"
"He's beautiful," Catherine said simply.
Joe blinked. He took a couple of seconds to digest that. "Ok, so we gotta find this guy, Gabriel. Now."
"Kate is looking," Vincent said. "She will find him – when she does, we will know."
"Look, it's not like I mind the idea of this getting what he deserves, but I can't – vigilantism isn't the answer. It's never the answer." As much as Joe might like it to be – Moreno's killer had to come to justice. He'd find a way to do it – it wouldn't be easy, but he'd had tougher cases.
"No, it isn't," Catherine agreed. "But we can't control everything that happenings."
"This other person, the one who massacred those men the other night? Kate?"
"Her fury runs deep," Vincent said. "It is not likely to be easily sated."
"Just – make me happy and tell me that this 'fury' is only directed towards Gabriel and his thugs."
Both Catherine and Vincent nodded.
"Ok. That's something. For the record, I'm going to pretend that this conversation never happened. I'm going to start looking for Gabriel on an anonymous tip that he killed Moreno. If I find him first, he goes to jail. If someone else finds him first – well, like Radcliff says, we can't control everything that happens." Joe realized that his head hurt. Maybe it was the beer he'd been drinking last night. Maybe it was no sleep. Maybe it was lack of caffeine. Or maybe it was too much information. "The only other people who know you're alive already said we shouldn't say anything – and they already know about Moreno being dead." He told her.
"Who are they?"
"A cop who's pretty straight up – and the lady I convinced to look into your disappearance. I'm not sure she's convinced that you're still alive either. Cathy – are you – you said it was just for now – but you're not planning on 'staying dead' forever, are you?"
"I don't know," she told him, honestly. It would be easier, in a lot of ways. But could she really do that to her friends. "I need time," she told both he and Vincent – the latter she was sure would give her an earful on the subject.
Joe just nodded. "Ok. I guess I can give you that – you've been through hell and I'm just glad you're ok. Damn – I really missed you."
She smiled, took his hand, and pulled him in to kiss his cheek. "I knew you wouldn't give up on me, Joe."
He held her for a long moment – she was real. She was alive. For right this very moment, everything was ok. "I'm going to go home, grab a shower and then try to get some work done."
"You should sleep."
"I should. But I'm not gonna. Vincent's right, though – you should be resting," he told her – he leveled a dark look at Burch, "You too."
"I'll be fine," Elliot assured him, though the painkillers had long sense worn off, leaving him having a hard time standing up; Elliot found that he was leaning more and more on the cane for support.
"We will make sure he rests," Vincent said to Joe.
Elliot blinked in surprise...his plan had been to hobble home and fall into bed...
"Good. How do I get in touch with you guys?" asked Joe.
"I'll show you how to work the drain storm entrance," Catherine offered. "After you come in, you go straight down this tunnel, veering left."
"And I will see that the sentries know that you may come that way. Someone will meet you before you have the chance to get lost."
"Sentries – get lost?"
"There are many twists and turns – many false paths," Vincent told him. "And tunnels that end in dead nothing but walls. A person could be lost down here for a very long time if they do not know their way."
"And – people live down here?"
"Many wonderful people," Catherine told him…although she could think of one who was going to be very irate when they returned with Elliot Burch.
-
And now my charms are all o'erthrown
And what strength I have's mine own
Which is most faint: now t'is true
I must here be released by you
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be relieved by prayer
Which pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself and frees all faults
As you from your crimes would pardon'd be
Let your indulgence set me free
by William Shakespeare/set to music by Loreena McKenitt
