Warning: This chapter deals with some extremely delicate and disturbing issues. If you're sensitive to that kind of thing, read at your own risk.

Standard Disclaimer

Reactions

He found her on the couch when he got home, sitting in the dark. He didn't think too much of it because they usually kept lights out whenever possible. She was probably pouting, he thought, and decided to just let it go, as she had enough sense not to say anything.

"Victoria?" he said softly as he entered the living room, carrying a thick yellow envelope with him. Making sure she was awake.

"Yeah?" she called back, her dark outline moving slightly to show that she had been curled up, and was straightening out for him.

"I brought you a gift." He came over to the coffee table and sat down in front of her. Instead of cool tile, it was warm underneath him. Most people didn't notice those kinds of things. Vincent registered it, but was anxious to give Victoria her gift. He would ask in a minute.

"What is it?" she asked. He placed the packet in her hands.

"Your license came through today. It's all set up. You've been reinstated. No questions asked."

She seemed startled, but her reaction was far less energetic than he had expected. "Wow," she whispered. "Thank you, Vincent."

"Well, maybe you can do a little better than that," he said, his tone turning sly as he leaned closer to her. He grasped her knees, and she jumped under his touch. It wasn't normal for her to react to him like this. "Victoria? What is it?"

She shook her head, her face leaning closer to his. "Nothing, Vincent," she said, but her smile wasn't completely natural. And her hair was hanging down, covering a part of her face. She pressed her lips to his, and Vincent would never have hesitated kissing her back, except for the fact that she was trembling, just slightly. Nervous.

"No, Victoria, tell me, what is it," he said, his voice a little lower. He reached out, his hands going to her arms, instinct telling him she was reacting from a kind of shock, that the first priority was to make sure no physical harm was done. She wiggled under his search, which only made the alarms sound louder.

"Nothing, really. I mean...I fell before. Hit my head. I think I tripped on Max...he's been getting underfoot lately."

"He's never gotten under my feet."

"Well, no, you're not his mommy," Victoria said with a light-hearted laugh. "I was just trying to shake it off."

"Mm hmm." Vincent looked at her in the dark, then stood up and reached over for the lamp.

He heard her sharp intake of breath as the bulb flicked on. He looked down. Her face was red and swollen, and on her right temple there was a ringed bruise. It looked like she'd been struck in a central place and the shockwaves had gone out in purple clots of blood under her skin. He sat down beside her this time, his hands cupped carefully around her face, looking at the bruise.

"Who in the hell did that to you?" he asked. His eyes met hers, he held fast and wouldn't let go. "Why have you been crying?"

"Well, the stupid fall hurt," she tried.

He shook his head. "No, Victoria. Tell me the truth. You know better. What happened."

"Vincent, I don't -"

"Victoria," and there was a clear warning bell in his voice now, "I'm going to keep asking you until you tell me. So you can take all the time you want, but you will tell me. Who was here?"

She met his eyes, flinched, looked away. She pulled her face from his grasp, having to reach up and remove his hands by his wrists before she could get control over her own head again. She wanted to get up, move away from him. She needed distance so she could think, but Vincent would have caught her and forced her back down beside him if she'd tried to move.

"Claudia," Victoria managed after a significant pause. "Claudia was here."

Vincent didn't seem terribly surprised, but he did seem very pissed. There was a coldness in his face, it subtly froze over his features, turning his eyes into green ice. "And what did she say?"

"Terrible things," Victoria choked, feeling the horrid memories as fresh as if she were still sitting there, in front of her, black-gloved hands templed, long white hair blazing in the shadows, ice-blue eyes so cruel.

"Like what."

"Stupid woman things, Vincent," Victoria said, a bit louder, as if trying to shake it off. "She talked about me and you."

A bit of a reaction - he slightly raised one eyebrow. "And she said?"

"Stuff. About our relationship. About how..." The lump clenched her throat shut, she almost coughed.

"How-"

"How you and I..." Victoria shook her head. "She said a lot of painful things, Vincent. She was trying to upset me and she did. Do I really have to repeat them? You'll just think I'm being stupid, and I couldn't take that. They weren't stupid."

"But they weren't true."

Her eyes opened, looked away from him. "No. They were true things."

Vincent leaned back. His face still held that cold menace, and she hoped that somewhere in his head he was imagining ways of making Claudia suffer. It only made it worse to think that look would soon be directed at her when she told him what came next.

"So she just came here to upset your womanly jealousies?" he said, his tone with a substantial amount of bite. "Knocked you out, but didn't do any other damage. She left you alive, which meant she wanted you to tell me she was here. What does she want from us?"

Victoria managed to look at him again. "She wants...she wants you to return to the United States, to turn yourself into the F.B.I., and testify against Felix and the guys who hired you to kill those five witnesses that night you were shot, the night you met Max. In return, you'll probably be put in Witness Protection, and given a clean slate." She drew in her breath, amazed she'd been able to give all that information so calmly.

"And why should I do that?" Anybody else would have laughed at the absurdity. Vincent didn't seem to find much to be laughable.

"Because she thinks if you don't, eventually your relationship with me is going to slow you down to the point where you're going to get yourself killed."

Vincent nodded slowly. Victoria felt a distinct pang. She had hoped he would assure her that it wasn't true, that they were safe, that he would always keep them safe. The fact that he seemed to be taking Claudia's statement as truth really hurt. Even though it was already what Victoria had thought to herself a thousand times already.

"How does she think that testifying is going to solve that?" Vincent said, almost to himself.

"Probably because Felix is most likely the guy to come after you," Victoria heard herself saying, numbly. "Since you didn't finish your contract with him."

Vincent nodded again. "Well," he murmured, "since Max offered a discount of 35 of my services, I had thought that Felix was content to let it go. But I know he isn't, none of them are. He's still going to be indicted because that District Prosecutor is still alive." Slowly, he stood up. His brain was in total work mode now, Victoria had seen it a few times since she'd been brought here. "I could always go back to L.A.," he said, half to her, half to himself. "Finish the job."

Victoria shook her head. "No," she said strongly.

"Well, what do you suggest? Turning myself in?"

Victoria shut her eyes. Now was the moment. Things were already bad. Maybe it would help clear something up. "Vincent...I'm pregnant."

He'd been looking down at her over his shoulder. At the news, he slowly walked away from her, went to the window, pressed his hands to the glass. Victoria sank back into the cushions of the couch, the tears threatening to soak her cheeks again. This shouldn't be happening, she told herself. They were going to have a baby together and he was treating it as if someone were going to die. Then the irony of the fact that he was a killer for hire hit her, and she would have actually laughed if her throat hadn't been so clenched. She had always imagined that the day she announced she was pregnant, considering how she and Allen had completely failed at the task, would be not just joyous, but triumphant. She could give life. She could have babies. A fusion of her and Vincent, proof that they had existed, evidence of their love. What a hopelessly romantic idea. Pathetic, really, considering her situation.

He was turning back to her, calm as she expected, and not quite as angry. "How far along?" he asked.

"I have no idea."

"Well, it can't be more than two months," he said. "That's still early. There are lots of options."

"Options?" she echoed, suddenly getting an adrenaline surge.

He looked at her, calmly. "Victoria, we can't have a baby."

"Vincent, if you even say the word abortion-"

"I won't say it, but still-"

"First of all, hell no, never in a million years." The rising of her voice pushed the tears away, made her feel stronger, more sure of herself. Anger was always a great cure to depression, she thought sarcastically. "And second, there is no way I'm going to some butcher with a wire hanger-"

"Then we can go to one of the big cities, a clinic-"

She reached behind her, grasped the first thing her fingers clutched - a couch cushion. She hurled it at him. He caught it, easily.

"Victoria," he said, complacently.

"Shut UP!" she howled, standing up with the words. "You...you monster! You may be a murderer but I'm not!"

Vincent sighed, looked away. She was a fool to think he was defeated. "Well, I guess there are other ways. This early, lots of things can happen. Vigorous activity, the wrong diet, all kinds of things could -"

She reached for something else to throw - a vase of flowers she had brought in a few days ago. The water splashed all down the front of his shirt and pants, soaking him.

"Stop talking, Vincent," she commanded, with an air of authority she'd never heard from her own voice before. "Just. Stop."

To her secret amazement, he did.

"It is not happening," she said, stone hard. "So just don't even say anything about it, again."

He regarded her coolly, turned, went into the bathroom. With the detachment of a mortician, he stripped off his clothes and put on fresh ones. Jeans and a light sweater. Deep, charcoal gray, went nice with his hair and complexion. He came a back out to find her sitting again, on the couch, perched on the edge, elbows in her lap, hands folded under her chin. He approached slowly, sat down beside her, gently brushed his fingers across the bruise on her temple. Gently, his lips followed, and she sighed, knowing he was making a truce. If she pushed past this point, he would more than likely go into psycho mode, so she had to tread carefully. It was amazing he hadn't done it already.

"What are we going to do, then, Victoria?" he whispered, putting his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. The warmth of his nearness was almost comforting. "You tell me. But you know my limits."

"I know," she whispered back. "You can't be a father. You can't even be a husband." She opened her eyes, stood up, gently detaching herself from his embrace. He let her go reluctantly, but she moved slowly enough to let him know she wasn't going to do anything rash. "Vincent," she said, turning, looking down at him from across the coffee table. "I'm...I'm going to leave."

He blinked. Looked up at her. Blinked again. Not believing what he heard. "As in?"

"As in, I'm going to go back to the States." She drew a breath. "These last two months... they've been...amazing. And I love you. I know you love me, even if you don't say it."

"Victoria," he started, but she shushed him.

"Please let me finish, Vincent. You see, you and I seem to have failed to come to an understanding about what we're doing here. You're content for the two of us to just be in a house together, forever. And that's wonderful. But I...I've got more than that now, and it isn't enough for me."

"I don't understand," he said, that familiar twitch in the corner of his mouth again. "I don't see how what you want from this is any different than what I want. I mean, you want jewelry, I'll buy you jewelry. But what is marriage, if not two people living together for the rest of their lives?"

"You and I are a lot different than a family, Vincent," she said softly, slowly. "Just being here together...we don't have any purpose."

"Making each other happy isn't a purpose?"

"It is. But what will make me happy and what will make you happy are two different things. I didn't want to face that for a while, and when I did, I thought I could just adjust, I could change, because I wanted to be with you."

"And you don't want to be with me anymore?"

"I do want to be with you," she said smoothly. "But not enough to give up every single part of who I am. That woman can't be who you want her to be, Vincent. If you want me, as I want you, you have to compromise, too."

He sighed, barely restraining his impatience. "But Victoria, you don't understand, I can't-"

"I do understand. That's why I'm not mad at you. That's why I'm telling you that I still love you and I'll always love you. But I am going to leave." She drew a steadying breath. "I think, if you think about it, long and hard, you'll realize that this was coming, Vincent. Neither one of us ever thought this through. It was good while it lasted, but I think we'd better call it a day while we can."

He looked at her, as she spoke, and she saw him slowly pulling away from her, inside. She could only imagine what was going through his head. Someone like him, who had never loved anyone, who couldn't even say the words to the single person that he did love - to hear that he was losing her. She was leaving, going away. She couldn't imagine the damage she was doing.

But it didn't stop it from being the right thing to do.

"Where are you going to go?" he asked in a soft voice, after a much longer time had passed than either one of them realized.

"I don't know. Probably not L.A., that I think about it. Now that you've gotten me my license back, I can probably get a job somewhere East."

"And what are you going to do for money in the meantime?"

She hesitated. "There's some left from what we...what you...took from Shakespeare. You always said I deserved it. I guess I'm ready to take it now."

He chuckled. It was a bitter, hollow sound. "So now that it's convenient, you want the rest of the blood money."

"Vincent, don't make this harder than it is."

"Oh, I can only imagine how hard it is for you," he said, his voice so low, so dripping with sarcasm and contempt that it was painful to hear. "Poor you, you get to run away from your problems. Remind me to feel sorry for you."

"Vincent," she said, a little louder, "do you really want this to be how we part ways?"

"So what, you're going now, right this second? Is that what you thought about in the dark, after Claudia left, and you waited for me to come home?"

She shook her head. "Not...really. A little. I guess."

"So, the rest of it came the second I suggested you get an abortion. The second I say something you don't like, you decide to run away."

"That isn't fair," she bit back, meeting him, burn for burn. "I've always hated what you do. Always. But if you remember correctly, you made it very clear that what I thought was going to be utterly disregarded, and that I could persist upon it at my own peril."

That seemed to slap him down, a little, if not much. He actually looked away for a moment. "I would say," she added, for good measure, "that I've been more than willing to overlook the flaws in this relationship. But everybody has their limit, Vincent."

To her surprise, he let out a very small sigh. "I guess they do." He kept looking away from her, out into the darkness beyond the circle of lamplight that enclosed them. Then he blinked, looked back at her. "You do realize," he added, "that Claudia is probably listening to everything we're saying."

He stood up, approached her. His lips were so close to her ear they were tickling the fine hairs. "Get what you want. We're leaving now."

"Vincent," she said, not quite as quiet, but struggling to match him, "I meant what I said-"

"Later," he said in the same breath-whisper. "For now, we go together."

She sighed, frustrated. The man was a fucking brick wall. But knowing she didn't really have a choice, and if Vincent thought they were in danger, it was the right thing to do. For the moment.

A/N: Okay, girls and...well, girls. If I have a boy out there reading, let me know, because I have been assuming everyone that's been reviewing so far is a girl. But I could be wrong in today's day and age. I hope I haven't offended anyone, abortion is a sensitive issue. I am completely against it under all circumstances, but I do know that there are people who feel different for very understandable reasons, and I'm not judging anyone.

On another note, I am ready to fall over dead from exhaustion. I fell asleep at the computer this afternoon in the middle of this chapter. I had to take a nap before I could continue, and now I simply MUST go to bed. I wanted to get this chapter done tonight because it was in my head and I wanted it out before I forgot it. However, I am at am impass. I don't know where it's going from here. I know what I'm going to do eventually, I just don't know how to get there. So there may be no update until the coming weekend. But you can be sure that if it does come to me, I will get it on file and update as soon as I can. Have fun at school, I know I will! And don't forget to REVIEW!!!

Okay, I should be in bed RIGHT THIS SECOND, but I was going over the reviews for chapter 4
and I had to pass out some comments--

PAR: THat is cool. I feel all like a published author now, the kind of writer people take with them on trips. That was a really cool thing to do. Although I know you did it because the story is so great. I don't make this stuff up, it just comes to me and I spill it out. Hope you enjoy this chapter, but now that you're saying you identify so much with Victoria, I am seriously worried. As you can see, she is not in a good place. SO I don't want you getting all depressed, now. SO, smile! Or at least, try to. :)

SweetArwen: Thanks for sticking with me! And thanks for your comment about the conversation with Vincent. I dont' know what I was thinking...I've seen a lot of fanfics that have funny stuff like that at the end,
and if it's done well, it's hysterical. I wasn't sure if mine was natural enough. But thanks for the encouragement. I'll try to post a conversation with Vincent if he's not in a chapter every time, just to
warn you. Heh. :)

firegoddess164: Sorry, I forgot your number yesterday when I was writing up the thanks at the heading of
the chapter. YOur comment about reading my fanfiction making your day less stressful made me feel like I was doing good in the world. Always in the battle with stress! But now i must go to sleep or else I won't sleep at all. Good luck in school.

LunaGrrrBack023: Oh, I'm always writing something. As you can see from my list of fanfic, I'm working on a
Monkey Trilogy for Radio Free Roscoe. Have you read it? If you watch the show, you should, not that I'm trying to promote myself or give myself complements, but it's a pretty mature story. And I'm also very proud of my "From Dusk Till Dawn" fanfic. It has no vampires in it, and it's probably one of the better stories I've told in a while. I don't publish my original fiction on the internet because I still harbor hopes that one day I'll
get published in the real word and not just in cyberspace. When I finish with this story, though, I am definitely going to finish the Monkey trilogy for Radio Free Roscoe. And possibly do a follow up to my From Dusk Till Dawn story. We'll have to see how the time works itself out.

Byrony Cel: What? Everything work out? Happy endings? Well...as you can see, Vincent reacted like...Vincent. Which I'm don't consider reacting well, but at least he didn't go psycho on her. Although, in my opinion, what he did was much worse. Hope I haven't made anybody hate him. I hate it when fanfic authors make you hate the character you love. But I was trying to be true to the character. Vincent seemed to be the kind of person who would do that with the best intentions, not realizing how badly he was hurting someone. But anyway...I shall let you have your own reaction. :)

All for now. G'night, everybody!