It was after midnight when Vincent silently appeared on Elena's balcony. Despite his assurances that he would be patient, he felt her agitation growing, and couldn't wait. He walked to the French doors and looked in. She was tossing and turning, as if in the grip of a nightmare. Alarmed, he reached for the handle, to find the door unlocked.

He cautiously went in. He heard her muttering, but the words weren't clear. Suddenly she sat up and her face took on its bestial aspect. She started clawing at the air, saying, "No. Don't touch me. Stay away." She started to growl and Vincent hurried over to the bed.

He knelt down and put his arms around her, pinning her arms to her side. "Elena, wake up! Elena, it's just a nightmare. Wake up!" he said, quietly but urgently. He kept repeating this as she twisted and turned, trying to get away. Finally his words penetrated, and she relaxed suddenly in his arms, then opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Vincent?"

"I'm here. Relax. You had a nightmare."

She shuddered and took a deep breath. Then she let it out. Leaning against him, she whispered, "It was more than a nightmare. It was a memory - a memory of the first time I killed someone."

Vincent held himself very still for a long moment, then asked, "Who?"

"The man who killed my - our - parents. The man who made us the way we are."

"You remember what happened?"

"No, not everything. Oh, Vincent," she pulled away to look at him. "I remember this man taking me away, and keeping me prisoner in this cabin. Then I remember, years later, he was going to. . . to. . ." She put her face in her hands and started crying.

"He was going to rape me and I fought back. That's when I killed him and escaped. That's all I remember, but I have a strong feeling there's more to it."

She started shaking and he stood up, then sat next to her on the bed, once again putting his arms around her. She turned and wrapped her arms around him, and they stayed that way for several minutes, until her trembling eased. She relaxed and loosened her hold, but didn't let go. "I'm glad you are here. I hate to think what I might have done to this room otherwise."

He smiled reminiscently and said, "Yes. It's a beautiful room and it would be a shame if it was damaged in any way."

She yawned and, letting go of him, put a hand to her mouth. "Sorry about that," she said with a hint of a smile. Then, as if finally realizing where they were, she continued,"I suspect that, since you're here,you'd like to know what I found out so far." When he nodded, the need to hear what she learned evidentin his eyes, she added, "I found out the names of our parents, and have our father's picture. I also have some newspaper clippings from when they died. I want to get some more information before I return to the tunnels. Can you wait until," she glanced at her bedside clock, "this evening?"

"If I have to, I suppose I can."

She looked at him, feeling his need, then made a decision. "Wait here a minute." She got out of bed and went into the living room. When she returned, she had a manila envelope in her hands. "It isn't right that I have some information and don't share it with you. But you understand that, aside from this bond we have between us and our - unique - similarities, there isn't any proof that we are related to each other, or to these people."

"I know, but it is enough for me."

She smiled at him and pulled a picture out of the envelope. "This is a picture of our father," she said and handed it to him. As he took it and gazed at the face of the man, she added, "His name is George Stewart."

He looked at the picture for a long time before handing it back to her. "And our mother?"

"Her name was Virginia. She wrote children's books. That's all I know about her. I'm hoping to find a picture of her, maybe even some of her books. I also plan to try to contact some of the people mentioned in the article about their memorial service. If any of them still live around here, that is."

"Well then, I should let you get some more sleep. I'll meet you at the drainage ditch entrance." He turned and went back onto the balcony.

She followed to close the doors and said, "I'll see you then. Good night, Vincent."

He turned and, with a hint of mischief in his eyes, replied, "Good morning, Elena."

She grinned and stuck her tongue out at him, which made him chuckle. As he disappeared over the railing, she closed the doors and went back to bed. This time her sleep was undisturbed by any bad dreams.