A/N - Conflicted again about this storyline. These are getting difficult to write. I think I want old Vincent back as desperately as Catherine and Vincent do...

Catherine,

I had dreams last night. At least, that's what I thought they were, but they were so clear, so vivid, so filled with emotion they had to be more than my subconscious mind tripping through the day—they had to be real. And you were in every one, Catherine. I realize, now, they were memories . . . of us.

First there was a subway car or train. It was like I was there, living it all over again. I felt out of breath, having searched the entire city for you. When I entered that last car and saw you sitting there, I was so relieved to find you alone and safe, you can't even know. As I write this letter, I still feel that emotion like it was yesterday. I hid my relief, though, embarrassed by the strength of my feelings. I didn't want to overwhelm you—you had a big enough burden to bear. You wondered how I'd found you, but you had no idea how desperately I'd searched. It wasn't like now, where I can hear your heartbeat whenever you are near. I must not have had that ability then.

I know you were upset about something—someone. I don't remember all the details yet, but I had this odd mixture of jealousy and guilt. Someone you cared about had died and I knew it was all my fault. I didn't want to feel that way. I hate that I may have been the reason you ran away to be alone with your thoughts. All I knew was I had to tell you how I felt, what you meant to me, and how it didn't really matter what happened or who I was—I couldn't live without you. For good or for bad, we were in this together.

When I pulled you to my side and you willingly leaned into me, that's when I knew everything was going to be all right. Somehow. Someday. I no longer had to be afraid. I kissed your head and immediately felt the bone-numbing cold.

In fact, cold was all around us. And darkness. The dream/vision changed and suddenly we weren't in a subway car at all but the middle of an empty country road. I had you in my arms. Catherine, you were so cold! But you weren't shivering, even dressed as you were in your beautiful, but very thin dress. We shouldn't be there, either of us. I don't know what had occurred—hopefully those memories will come later—but as I was holding you I felt fear like I can't recall ever feeling before. Car headlights on the foggy road were all that illuminated the night and separated us from the encroaching fog and darkness. My beautiful woman in white was in crimson, and blood—the color of the gown you wore—dripped onto the shard-covered pavement below. You were bleeding to death in my arms and I was powerless to stop it!

I wanted to run away with you but I knew, if I did, you would die right then and there. Catherine, I never want to feel like that again. Was this after your Dad's wedding? JT told me I'd crashed it but he said it so nonchalantly I never would have guessed something so devastating happened that night. If it had, why hadn't JT told me? I was so filled with emotion, I tried to wake myself from the dreams. The feelings were too intense. But I also wanted to stay and understand.

But the dream changed again and this time you were in another wine-colored dress—one longer and fancier—and you were vibrantly alive! Thank God. In fact, you had turned into a fairytale princess with a long, fluffy train. Your hair was up and your throat adorned with a stunning necklace. There was a small, thin scar above your right breast that I recognized as the wound you'd gotten on that cold night, but now it was faint and covered with a fine, silky powder. You wore a fragrance that intoxicated me, and your eyes, so exotic and mesmerizing, drew me like no other. Cinderella going to the ball. So beautiful. And you were mine! You belonged to me. I could feel a pull from both directions—afraid to believe it yet certain it was true. You were the flame; I, a helpless moth. I knew in that moment such a flood of relief and thankfulness to you, I just wanted to take you in my arms and tell you with my body and soul how grateful I was to have you in my life. You turned to go, but I couldn't let you walk away without telling you that I was so in love with you. The words didn't come, not then, but the sounds of the ballroom filled with people below us slowly faded into nothingness as I put my lips on yours.

If I could have stopped time, I would have remained in that memory forever. A perfect moment in time. But then you were in my arms again, only this time as we sat together on a bench on a rooftop—your rooftop. I recognize it now, but it looked so different then—filled with tiny lights and flowers. An elegant table spread with food and wine sat nearby. I remembered our picnic, Catherine! Did we have many? I hope so. We both seemed so happy, content. I never wanted to leave. You were my anchor and my strength. I feel embarrassed, now, to have forgotten it all. How could I? I hope you understand.

Perhaps I was anxious for that moment to be real. All of those moments. I opened my eyes right then and bolted out of sleep. My initial shock and disappointment that it was all just a dream quickly faded into relief and joy. My memories of you were coming back! I welcomed the flood of emotions they brought. My contact is wrong. He thinks I'm weaker with my memories of you. I agree I can't afford distractions, but you give me a reason to survive—to make it home alive each time. I feel stronger than ever with you by my side. Even though I am a beast just like the ones I'm hunting, I like to believe you make me different from them. I rushed to dress, eager to tell you….

Now I wish I could sleep again and dream; never wake up. As I sit alone in the houseboat, I realize some dreams are just that—dreams. You and I, and whatever memories we have of our love and hopefulness, will never be able to go back to that place before. I've changed—in ways you don't even yet know—and ways you don't ever want to know. I could see it in your face after I killed Tori's father: Murderer. Killer. Assassin. Animal. You were shocked, confused, fearful that I'm getting worse not better, even though I know you want to believe the best. That guy—that guy I used to be is gone, Catherine. I wish you could know how thankful I am to be getting his memories back, but it's achingly bitter. You've stuck with me, even through the last few weeks, through the lies and me hurting you, but how far can you go? How long will it last? How much longer can you continue to turn a blind eye to the beast I have become? Your Vincent is gone. I told Tori that I wouldn't be okay today without your love and support, but as strong as you are (and you are incredibly strong, Catherine, not just physically but in every way), I doubt you can continue to stand by the monster I have become.

You know, when I started this letter, I was so happy and hopeful. Now I just want to die. I crossed a line. I wish I could explain. I can't. And it happened. Two steps forward, one step back. That doesn't sound very promising. You seem willing, but am I still worth saving? I saw the doubt on your face, the conflict. Will you truly be able to stay by my side if things get worse? I don't honestly know, but I hope to God you can. Please, please wait.

Wait for me, Catherine….