After riding for a bit more, Bash could finally see the castle. He stopped for a moment to look at it. That castle had been his home for most of his life, but now he didn't know if it still was. He didn't belong there anymore...did he ever really?

"It won't be long now." he said, maybe to Catherine, maybe to himself. He wasn't sure.

He finally arrived at the gates, Catherine still dragging behind him. The guards spotted him from a distance.

"It's the kings brother." one said to the other.

"And look he has the Queen Mother." the other said. "Call for the Lord Chancellor."

Bash hopped off his horse and began removing Catherine from the litter. He picked her up and the guards started to block his way.

"What are you doing? Let me in. Can't you see she's hurt. I have to get her inside." he said.

"How do we know you're not the one who hurt her lord?" one asked.

"He's not. For God's sake, would he be bringing me back if he was?" Catherine said, barely audible.

"Well you heard her. Step aside." he said pushing past them. "And call for the physician at once."

As he walked inside Narcisse ran up to them.

"What's happened?" he said with urgency. "What the hell is going on?" Somehow the mere question infuriated Bash.

"As if you care. She's been gone for two whole days and you didn't even try to find her." he spat.

"I didn't even know she was missing until this morning when a servant told me she never came home." he replied angrily.

"And yet you're still here aren't you?" Bash shot back.

"You little ingrate. What right do you even have to talk after the way you left here?" Narcisse took a step toward him as he spoke. They were both practically snarling at this point.

"Can the two of you please end the measuring contest and take me to the infirmary before I drop dead. Now is not the time." Catherine said. The two glared at each other one more time before Bash stepped around him and took Catherine to the infirmary. Narcisse waited a moment, taking a deep breath before following.

Bash laid her down on the bed in the infirmary. As they made contact with the bed, he got another flash of his previous vision...

[...where he was also lifting her onto a bed, but it was her bed...and he was kissing her...and taking off her clothes...]

When his normal sight returned, he found himself with his hand on her cheek, gazing into her eyes. He shook his head as she looked at him a bit awkwardly. But before she had a chance to say anything, Narcisse barged in behind them, Bash's hand still on her cheek. He cocked his head to the side, as Bash pulled it back quickly. Bash stood. Narcisse nearly asked him what was going on, but changed his mind at the last second, because he could clearly see what was going on.

"What the hell happened out there?" he asked.

"She asked you for help and you wouldn't give it. So she took care of it herself." he told him.

"You were able to blow up the farm house?" he asked turning to her. She paused, not sure how to answer. The last thing she needed at the moment was an 'I told you so'.

"Almost." she said pursing her lips. "It would have worked save for a faulty flint."

"Which she wouldn't have had to worry about if you'd been there to help her." Bash added.

"She wouldn't have been out there at all if you'd been here instead of off in Scotland doing God knows what. You'd have been out there with your men, and that farm house would be gone, along with The Brigade's threats." Narcisse argued. Bash's lip curled in anger. He couldn't really argue with that, and Narcisse knew it, but he couldn't believe he was using it to justify letting this happen to her.

"You son-of-a-bitch." was all he could muster to say in return. Narcisse leaned in, in a threatening manner.

"You know I'm right and now we may never get another shot at them. If you want to blame someone, blame yourself." he said, then turned and left.

Bash was still seething as the physician came in. As he started to help Catherine, Bash slowly backed out of the room and stormed off to his rooms...until he remembered that they weren't his rooms anymore...but he needed somewhere to storm to. He needed a moment to himself to cool off. So he made his way to Catherine's rooms. The one room he knew no one was in at the moment. She probably wouldn't be okay with that, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt. After all, it would only be a minute. He entered and slammed the door behind him. He was so mad he didn't even know what to do with himself. He wanted to throw something, but remembered again, he wasn't in his room. He paced the room a moment until he just couldn't take it. He went to the bed and threw a pillow then sat down on it with his head in his hands. He took a deep breath and put his hands down at his sides, the soft fabric of the coverlet under his fingers...and his vision returned...

[...He was on top of her, half dressed, and she looked up at him, in nothing but her shift as he lowered himself to kiss her neck. His arousal became evident as it pressed against her thigh. He ran his hand up her leg and under the shift until he could...]

He suddenly sprang back into reality. He was breathing heavily. No. No this couldn't be right. The visions before were so choppy he couldn't be sure, but this one was clear as a bell. He was in bed with Catherine. They were...no. He wouldn't, she wouldn't. They couldn't. They hated each other. She was the woman who killed his mother, had his sister beaten and knowingly slept with a serial killer. Even if he could find a way to forgive her for all of that, how could he ever look at her without thinking about what she did? Then he started to think about the fact that his other vision didn't make a whole lot of sense either. Mary in French court even after he'd warned her about the vision? She would never take the chance given their history with prophecies. Maybe...maybe they weren't right, any of them. Maybe his gift was broken, or maybe it wasn't a gift at all, but a curse.