All Things Are Possible VII

by Sandy P. Shelton

1. EVERYTHING TO LOSE

The door creaked slightly as Vincent gently pushed it open. He held his breath in the hope he had not awakened his young son. Once assured he had not, he looked into the room and saw the child sleeping peacefully. He smiled contentedly. It was hard to believe his son would be five years old in a couple of months. He was growing up so fast.

Vincent moved quietly to the next door and opened it easily with a slight push. Inside the dimly lit room, lay his beautiful young daughter. Little Mary Catherine was curled up in her small bed, her long light brown hair fanned out over her pillow. She was a lot like her mother and that fact made her very special to her proud father. His little angel, as he called her, would be three in February. That little girl had him neatly wrapped around her little finger and she knew it.

After leaving his daughter's room, Vincent returned to the master bedroom of the apartment he shared with Catherine. Before slipping beneath the warmth of the covers, he took a moment to study the serene face of his wife. A few rays of moonlight had found their way through the sheers on the balcony doors and were bathing her face in a soft glow. She was so beautiful she almost took his breath away.

She was peaceful now, but only a few hours ago her passion had burned out of control. Her passion — it had been unquenchable since her recovery from the auto accident. But he recognized it for what it was. As with her other pregnancy, Catherine's hormones were out of balance and their effect on her was — exhausting for him.

He slipped quietly under the covers but just as his head hit the pillow, he felt her hand on his arm. Oh no, he moaned to himself. To her he said, "I'm sorry if I awakened you."

"Are the kids all right?" she asked.

That soft, raspy quality of her voice always had a way of making him want to take her in his arms like a sleepy child. Tonight, he didn't dare. He well knew what one touch would lead to in her current state of raging hormones.

"They're sleeping," he replied.

Watching her out of the corner of his eye, he saw her roll over onto her back and stretch lazily. As the covers worked down a little, her nudity from their earlier love-making became clearly evident. Her breasts were peeking out from under the comforter and the sight almost made him laugh. Two months ago, he would have taken advantage of the moment, but her demands on him lately had left him thoroughly exhausted.

She rolled back over toward him and snuggled up close. When her fingers began toying with the hair covering his chest, he pretended not to notice. He briefly searched their strong connection and could tell she was adrift in that magical place between slumber and wakefulness.

"Go back to sleep," he whispered.

In response, she draped her leg over his and pulled herself closer. "Do you want to make love again?"

Before he could answer, he could feel her slipping deeper into sleep. He remained still until he was certain she was fast asleep. He lay there for some time thinking about the absurdity of the situation. A few years ago, all he could think of was making love to Catherine. Those erotic thoughts invaded his dreams and were constantly on his mind while awake. It was all he could do then to keep his distance from her. What he would have given back then to share a bed with her as he was doing now.

He sighed. Maybe they were both just getting older, he thought. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it was just a temporary condition brought on by her pregnancy and soon things would get back on an even keel. After that, he knew there would be no more love-making for several months. That thought brought about mixed feelings. Yes, he would get his rest, but such a long period without the physical release he had become so addicted to was quite unsettling. In fact, he found himself becoming very agitated.

"Catherine," he whispered. When she didn't respond, he stroked her shoulder and called out to her in a louder voice. "Catherine."

"What?" she responded in a very sleepy voice.

"Are you awake?"

She lifted her head and yawned. "I am now. What is it? Is something wrong?"

He couldn't remember ever feeling so foolish. "Uh — no. I just..."

After taking a deep breath, Catherine rubbed her eyes and tried to focus them on her husband. "You what?"

"Never mind. Go back to sleep. I'm sorry I disturbed you."

"What I find disturbing is the fact that you woke me and now won't tell me why." She tugged at his chest hair threateningly. "Confess," she demanded.

Vincent cleared his throat nervously. No matter how he tried to explain it, his little anxiety attack was going to sound foolish. But, heaven knows, she had awakened him from a sound sleep on more than one occasion over the past few weeks for a little gratification. It was only fair that he turn the tables.

Without giving her any warning, he grabbed her shoulders gently and pulled her down for a passionate kiss. When she managed to regain her balance, she pushed herself up off his chest.

"I didn't think you were interested in a repeat performance. I thought you were too tired and sleepy."

"I changed my mind," he responded as he tried to pull her down again.

"Wait a minute! Why the sudden change?"

He looked at her in total embarrassment. "I just started thinking about all those long cold nights without..."

Catherine smiled. "Oh, I see. You decided you had better get all you can before the well goes dry."

"Well — I suppose..."

"Vincent — don't be embarrassed. You can tell me."

Letting his fingers play with her hair gave him a moment to compose himself. "I have to admit that I'm not looking forward to the time we can no longer — make love. I know that over the past few years we've settled into a routine of sorts. I've found that routine — comforting."

Catherine began laughing. "You are getting old and very set in your ways!"

"It's all your fault. If you had not pursued me so shamelessly, I would have never known what I was missing."

"Ignorance is bliss, I suppose."

Vincent gently stroked her cheek with the back of his finger. "Not in this case," he responded softly. "That was a different life. I don't want to go back to it — not ever."

The conversation had taken an unexpected serious turn and, for a moment, they became lost in the memories. Catherine's finger began tracing a path along Vincent's nose and upper lip. That lip was one of the more fascinating parts of his body and she never missed an opportunity to explore it.

"With any luck, you won't have to — at least not for a few more years," she assured him.

He smiled as he looked up into her love-filled eyes. "I love you, Catherine. The thought of losing you..."

"Ssh — don't think about it. Just love me. Love me, Vincent."

With a devilish glint in his eyes, Vincent seized Catherine in his arms and quickly rolled her over onto her back. Once pinned helplessly beneath his strong body, she was completely at his mercy. Out of concern for her condition, however, he relented. "We're both too tired for this."

"Speak for yourself," she responded. "You know how I am when I'm pregnant. For the first few months, I have all this — energy. I can't seem to sit still and I don't need much sleep. I guess those little sperms of yours are super-charged." She continued her study of his mouth with her fingers.

"Super-charged is right. Even with a vasectomy, they hit the target. Catherine, I think we should take some drastic steps as far as birth control is concerned."

Catherine started laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"I just remembered a scene from a movie I saw. The couple went to bed wearing full body condoms."

After trying to visualize that image, Vincent simple shook his head. "I don't think anything short of a brick wall would do the trick for us."

"Well — it's about two months too late to worry about that now."

"Catherine — I am sorry about..."

"Don't say it. Don't even think it. This baby was meant to be. I believe that. There is no reason to be sorry." The determined look in her eyes silenced any argument he may have made.

"You really love being pregnant, don't you'?"

"Yes I do, but only because they're your babies. How can I explain what it means to me to give you children? In a sense, it's my way of assuring that you'll never be alone again — that you're not the last of your kind. Does that make any sense?"

"I can't think of one thing that's happened since the day I found you that has made sense. I struggled with that for a long time. Now — I don't give it much thought. Sometimes you just have to cast your certainties aside and simply accept life's mysteries without question."

"I couldn't agree with you more."

Vincent lowered his head and playfully rubbed his nose against hers.

She giggled then responded, "That tickles."

Her soft giggle of pleasure never failed to fill him with a great deal of satisfaction. He took great pride in being the man who could elicit those sounds. It had taken him some time and a lot of pain to realize that the gift of his love, support, and comfort was all she truly wanted of life. Despite what he was, he made her happy and nothing was more important to him than her happiness.

"Vincent?"

"Yes."

"Are you happy?" she asked.

Her strange question surprised him a little. "Why do you ask that?"

She shook her head slightly then allowed her fingers to gently follow the line of his broad shoulders. "I don't know. Sometimes I wonder if life with me hasn't overwhelmed you. You went from a very quiet, sheltered existence to the chaos of family life. In a short period of time, you fell in love, became a husband and father and have tried to balance a life between two very different worlds." She smiled wickedly. "You went from fantasizing about sex to trying to find a reliable way to keep me from getting pregnant. That's major culture shock."

"Yes and I'm enjoying every minute of it."

As he looked down into her loving, playful eyes, he could not resist the pull of her body. Their physical beings called to each other for completion and he no longer questioned it or fought it. He simply gave into it. He lowered his mouth to gently capture her soft, pliant lips. She gave herself up to him completely.

He wanted to take the time to savor her, to allow the taste and feel of her body to gently arouse him. There was no need to hurry. The urgency that consumed them in the beginning of their relationship had given way to a slower, more complete enjoyment of each other. Their love-making now lasted longer and was more fulfilling than ever before.

Her hands gently stroked and kneaded his shoulders and forearms as his kisses continued. There were times he felt as if he had waited all his life for that touch to set him free and it had. In her arms, he found the only absolute freedom he would ever know.

Moving away from her lips, he placed light kisses along the bridge of her nose, across her forehead, and down her temple. Her breath was warm against his neck and he could feel her heart beating against his. When she parted her legs, he maneuvered himself into the tender trap and allowed himself to be captured by her strong thighs.

As he lowered his body onto her, he felt the slight protruding roundness of her belly and pulled away slightly. "What is it?" she asked.

He balanced his weight on his knees and forearms. "I can feel the baby," he answered.

She giggled then responded, "That tickles."

Her soft giggle of pleasure never failed to fill him with a great deal of satisfaction. He took great pride in being the man who could elicit those sounds. It had taken him some time and a lot of pain to realize that the gift of his love, support, and comfort, was all she truly wanted of life. Despite what he was, he made her happy and nothing was more important to him than her happiness.

Pushing himself back up on his hands and knees, he carefully moved up and covered her delicate body with his own. He could feel the need in her calling to him, reaching into the very depths of his desire. Her arms and legs quickly enveloped him and pulled him down to her. Her hunger aroused his and her hands explored his body. He had signaled his desire for that touch by remaining still and holding himself slightly above her. That position gave her room to work her hands between them and take him in her hands.

The sensation of her hands touching him so intimately was an ecstasy beyond imaging. All his life he had longed for that touch and dared not think it was possible. But Catherine had shown her eagerness to please him and had indulged that longing. Her fingers stroking, caressing, squeezing, and fondling his most sensitive area released his most ardent passions. A growl escaped him as his head jerked backward. The urge to roar threatened to overpower him but his fear of awakening the children defeated it. An interruption now would be disastrous.

What she did next, however, nearly destroyed all his resolve. He felt her hand encircle him and begin pulling him into her. He was so fascinated by watching and feeling what she was doing, he couldn't move. He watched as she hungrily pulled him into her warmth. Once he had penetrated, she slid her hands around to his buttocks and pulled him down and deeper into her.

"Yes," she moaned. "That feels so good. Go deeper."

His own sensation of being inside her had momentarily obliterated everything around them. To Vincent, all that existed was their physical connection and the need to go deeper and faster. That need brought on the instinctive flexing of his hips as his body strained to complete the most natural of acts between a man and a woman.

They moved together as one as they sought release. Catherine absorbed each thrust and cried out for more as their passion grew. With every ounce of his being, Vincent strove to achieve the release they both craved and when it happened — their mutual climaxes were shattering.

Catherine's body quivered beneath him as he thrust weakly a few more times. When he finally managed to regain some control of his senses, he became vividly aware of how weak he felt. Opening his eyes slowly, he focused them on Catherine's deeply flushed face. Her skin was damp with perspiration and her hair was in wild disarray. It was a look he enjoyed.

"Catherine," he managed to say despite his inability to think clearly. Although he could feel her sense of fulfillment and total contentment, he had to ask. "Are you all right?"

She opened her eyes and tried to focus them on his. It took several seconds for her to manage it but when she did, the emotion in them was overpowering. Vincent could only stare in wonder at the peace and love he found there.

"I feel wonderful. What about you?"

He smiled when he felt her hands once again glide over his shoulders. "Much better."

They shared a brief, gentle kiss just before Vincent lifted himself off of her and lay on his side facing her. She took a deep breath, pulled up the covers, then turned to face him. In moments like these, words were not needed.

As Vincent studied Catherine and thought about how beautiful she was and how fortunate he was, a strange expression came over her face.

"What? What is it?" he asked with concern.

"A life that can never be."

"I remember those words. For a while, I actually believed them."

"I know. I know the courage it took to put aside those beliefs."

He tenderly caressed her cheek. "Courage had nothing to do with it. If I had believed in our love as you did, there would have been no illness, no..."

"Vincent — I don't want to think about those times. I just want to live in the moment. We found each other again, we have two — no, three children, and we are happy. That's all that matters."

"You're right."

A warm smile spread across Catherine's face. "I love you, Vincent. Never doubt that."

"I don't. Now — tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Why is my daughter keeping her Halloween costume such a secret?"

Catherine laughed loudly. "It's all her idea and I promised her I wouldn't tell. It's one of those mother/daughter things."

"Jacob and I are in for a lot of that, I suppose."

"You two have all those father/son things. Besides, us girls have to stick together."

A very exhausted sigh escaped him. "What do you suppose this one will be?" he asked as he stroked her stomach.

"Special," was all she said.

"You are incredible, Catherine."

"I'll remember you said that the next time you accuse me of being stubborn."

"I never called you stubborn — just — determined."

Catherine started laughing then playfully tweaked his furry nose. "Goodnight, Vincent." "Goodnight, Catherine."

* * * * * *

The next morning, Vincent left the children with Mary and began a journey deep into the catacombs. Since his return from the apartment before dawn, a strange message had been tapped repeatedly on the pipes. The cryptic words were directed to him and simply said, "Be warned. The walls grow thin." That warning, or whatever it was, had been repeated continuously for several hours. Despite Father's objections, Vincent had decided to follow the sound along the pipe to determine its source. Even though the trail led him into the catacombs, he was determined not to leave the challenge unanswered.

He walked alone through the dark tunnels. Father had argued that he should take someone with him but no one could move as fast or as quietly as he. Furthermore, he knew the catacombs better than anyone in the community: He realized it was probably just someone having a little fun with them anyway and there was no need to waste anyone else's time chasing ghosts. He laughed at that thought. After all, it was almost Halloween.

He followed the pipes until they disappeared into the ground but still the message could be heard. Where was it coming from — the very ground itself? he wondered. He searched the area to try to find some way down but there just wasn't one. As he stood in the middle of one of the smallest, darkest tunnels, the tapping suddenly stopped.

"Vincent."

Quickly, Vincent turned toward the sound but no one was there. He was still alone in the darkness.

"The walls grow thin."

This time he spun around in the opposite direction ready to attack. Again, no one was there. His eyes searched the darkness. Every sense was alerted to possible danger. "Who are you?" he called out to the mysterious voice.

"Take heed, Vincent. The way is dark. All can be lost if you do not heed the warning?

"Who are you? What does this warning mean?" At that point, Vincent couldn't determine if he was imaging the voice or if someone was actually there. He could not sense the presence of anyone other than himself — but how?

"The way is dark — be warned."

Vincent spun around again. The voice seemed to be echoing off the rock walls. "Who are you? Where are you?" he shouted in frustration. There was no answer. Only the sound of water dripping down the wall of the tunnel broke the silence. The voice was not heard again.

All the way back to the main hub, Vincent thought about the message. Was it a practical joke engineered by Mouse and some of the children or was someone truly trying to warn him of some impending danger? "What danger?" he mumbled to himself. Catherine was not working on anything particularly dangerous right now. The children were happy and healthy. He shook his head and decided it was someone's idea of a joke but something in the back of his mind didn't quite believe it.

Although Vincent told Father the messages were nothing more than a childish prank, he couldn't shake the haunting quality of the message itself. But more disturbing than that was the fact they still continued with no clue as to who the prankster was.

Vincent's fear of what affect the mysterious messages might have on Catherine prevented him from sharing the mystery with her. The risk just wasn't worth taking. He reasoned that eventually the anonymous messenger would grow tired of his little game and the messages would stop. That is, if he didn't get his hands on him first.

* * * * * *

Catherine sat at her desk in the D.A.'s office lost in the task of researching the backgrounds of several defense witnesses. Just as the murder trial Joe was prosecuting was going to trial, the defense had surprised everyone with a new list of witnesses leaving the prosecution team precious little time to prepare. Luckily, Joe got a continuance but everyone in the office had been going nonstop all afternoon. She was so lost in the work, she didn't hear Joe approach.

"Hey, Chandler."

Catherine almost jumped out of her seat. "You shouldn't creep up on someone like that."

"Come on, Radcliffe. Since when does anyone around here creep."

She favored him with her most charming smile. "Well — if you want names..."

"Never mind. Didn't you tell me you had a doctor's appointment today?"

Panic stricken, Catherine looked at her watch. She only had thirty minutes to get to Peter's office. "Oh God! I've got to go!"

"Cathy..."

Joe only used that name and that tone of voice when he was concerned. As she gathered her things, she took a moment to touch his arm and smile. "Don't worry."

"I can't help it. You've been pushing yourself way too hard lately. Hell — you've done twice the work of anyone in this office."

"So why are you complaining?" she asked playfully.

"You … don't look ... well. I mean ...you look... I don't know. Cathy, this doctor's appointment, is something wrong?"

This was her opportunity to tell him that she was pregnant again. She had already put it off long enough and she couldn't hide it much longer. Her mouth opened but the words did not come out. For some reason she didn't understand, she just couldn't say the words.

"Cathy'?" Joe prompted.

"No. It's nothing serious. I'll tell you about it later. If I don't get going, I'll be late." Impulsively, she kissed her friend on the cheek and walked away. On the elevator ride down, she couldn't help but wonder why she couldn't tell Joe. That bewilderment and her guilt suddenly became a very heavy burden.

* * * * * *

The examination was finished and Catherine sat in Peter's office alone. He was analyzing the blood work himself to prevent questions he couldn't answer. Her good friend took a lot of personal risks to protect her and the people Below and she loved him dearly.

The door opened and Peter walked in carrying a large file folder. He closed the door then walked over and placed a kiss on her cheek. "I bet you thought I'd forgotten you."

As he took a seat across the desk from her, she replied. "I wouldn't let you if you tried."

"Believe me, honey, I could never forget you."  His smile was followed by an uncomfortable silence.

"Are you going to tell me what you found or do we make small talk all day?"

Peter smiled. "You know me too well."

"What is it, Peter?" she asked fearfully.

"The blood work. You have a very high level of oxygen in your blood."

"Is that bad?"

After studying the reports one more time, Peter responded. "I don't know. It explains all this nervous energy you told me about. Vincent's blood is highly oxygenated."

Catherine remembered what the doctor in the emergency room had told her after her car accident about what he called the strange results of her blood work. "It's because of the baby isn't it?"

"To be more precise — babies," Peter corrected her. "Every child of Vincent's you've carried has shared his uniqueness to some degree. You share your blood supply with that child."

That thought didn't bother her, it never had. She shared her body with Vincent, sharing it with his children only seemed natural. Settling back in the chair, she studied Peter's face. He was obviously worried about much more.

"There's more, isn't there?"

"Yes," he reluctantly admitted. "I'm concerned about your blood pressure too."

"Could that be a result of the oxygen level?"

"Possibly, and that is what worries me. Vincent has lived with those levels all his life. Your body has not. I'm concerned at what kind of stress this is putting on you."

She leaned forward. "Peter — is there a chance I could lose the baby?"

"I don't think we need to worry about that now. I'll put you on a low salt diet and I want you to rest whether you feel tired or not. I also want you to get one of those home blood pressure kits and use it twice a day. Record the levels and I want to see you in a week. Cathy, I'm going to watch over you like … a mother hen."

Catherine laughed. "You and about a hundred others."

"That's what you get for being so lovable." Her blush was endearing. "Cathy, have you told Joe yet?"

The guilt hit her again. "No."

"You won't be able to hide it for long. What's the problem?" he asked.

Again, Catherine found herself unable to explain, even to herself, why she couldn't tell him. "I don't know. I honestly don't know. Maybe..." she hesitated.

"Maybe what?'

"For a while now, I've had this feeling..."

"Come on, Cathy. Let's hear it."

Reluctantly, she began sharing feelings with Peter that she had not shared with Vincent. "Peter, I think ... no ... I'm almost certain this baby is going to be like Vincent."

Peter sat back in his chair and stared at her intently. "What do you base that on?"

"Nothing scientific I can assure you. I can't explain it ... I just … I just know. That's why we can't let anything happen to this child. If it's like him, do you realize what that means?"

"Do you?"

She stared back at him. "Yes, I do and I'm prepared to sacrifice everything to give him a child in his own image."

"Even the child's happiness? Cathy, think about what his life has been like — the pain, the hiding, the fear."

"Our child will come into the world with the advantage of a loving family and a father who can understand. Vincent did not have those advantages."

Peter simply stared at her in amazement. She had to be the most determined, or stubborn, woman he had ever met. "If you're sure this is what you want, I will stand by you. You know that. Whether or not this child is like Vincent, I want you and your baby to make it through this healthy and happy."

Tears burned her eyes. "I know. Peter, I love him. This will be our last child — nothing can happen to it."

Peter stood up and walked around the desk. "We'll all do everything we can to make sure that happens." He took Catherine's hand in his. "Cathy, I want you to take it easy. May I make a suggestion?"

"Of course," she answered with a warm smile.

"Since you are reluctant to let anyone Above know about this pregnancy because of your fear..."

"Not fear, Peter." she corrected him.

"I'm sorry. Because of your conviction about this child. Perhaps it would be wise for you to take an extended leave from work before people begin to notice. I can take care of the appropriate paperwork. It should take only a few days."

"I hate to leave Joe in such a mess at the office."

"You have to decide, Cathy. This pregnancy could be difficult and, if the child is like Vincent, we won't know what to expect. A baby like that will need a lot of attention in those first few months. Vincent did."

She closed her eyes for a moment and chewed her bottom lip. "I always said I would choose my family over my job if the time ever came. I think the time has come. I guess I can always practice law in some fashion but my children... Jake and Katie are growing up so fast and a child like Vincent would need more of me." Her decision was made. "Put the paperwork through."

"I think it's for the best, Cathy. I really do."

"Thanks, Peter." She stood up and hugged her friend. "Promise me you won't tell Vincent about what I told you."

"He probably suspects something but I promise not to discuss it with him."

"You're a good man, Peter Alcott," Catherine responded with a chuckle.

"Remember that when you get my bill."

* * * * * *

When Vincent arrived on the balcony late that night, he fully expected to be pulled into the bedroom and seduced by his over-zealous wife. Instead, he found her lying quietly in bed staring at the ceiling. Even when he opened the doors and walked in, she hardly acknowledged his presence. Strange, he thought. He wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved.

"Catherine."

She finally looked at him and smiled. "Hello, Vincent."

Her lack of enthusiasm stunned him. Cautiously, he walked over and sat on the bed next to her. "Are you all right, Catherine?" he asked.

"I'm fine. It's just been a long day."

Even after she caressed his cheek and tenderly kissed him, he couldn't shake the feeling of distance between them. She seemed to be pulling away from him.

"Why don't you change clothes and come to bed," she suggested.

After taking her suggestion, he lay beside her in silence wondering what had happened. "Is something wrong?"

She slid down under the comforter then turned toward him with the strangest look on her face.

"Nothing is wrong," she responded.

"You're frightening me, Catherine."

"I'm sorry. I was just thinking about how extraordinary you are."

An embarrassed smile was his response. "Most people just call me unusual." A strange moment of silence elapsed between them.

"Catherine, tell me what's troubling you."

For a moment, she seemed to be considering telling him something but the moment passed. "I was thinking about either taking an extended leave of absence or just resigning."

"Catherine!"

"While I carried Jake, I was isolated and scared to death. With Katie, I worked through most of it. If this is my last pregnancy, I want to savor it — that's all."

Vincent searched their connection for more. "I have a feeling something's wrong. What is it you're not telling me?"

Catherine smiled warmly then stroked his nose with her index finger. "You worry too much."

"Catherine, you are my life. You have given me so much. I worry that you sacrifice too much for me."

"I sacrifice nothing and gain everything. You've made all my dreams come true and have given me more happiness than I ever imagined existed. I didn't say I wanted to give up my life Above, I just want to take some time out to enjoy my family. I have enough money to do that. A lot of women don't have that choice."

He still wasn't convinced that was all there was to it. "Are you sure that's all it is?"

"Yes. Stop worrying."

"I can't help it."

Catherine's reassuring smile faded a bit. "I am concerned about how Joe will take it. He means a lot to me and I hate leaving him short-handed right now."

"He loves you, Catherine. Your happiness and welfare are his main concern. They always have been."

"How do you always know the right thing to say?"

Vincent smiled and gently stroked her shoulder. "I just put words to what your heart is telling you."

She leaned down and kissed him again. "I love you, Vincent. Sleep well."

When she turned over onto her back and closed her eyes, he was shocked. He was sure their conversation was a prelude for a more intimate exchange and now she seemed totally disinterested. After the passion of the last weeks, he found the situation a little annoying. Arousal with no release was something he had found extremely difficult to deal with since he and Catherine had become lovers.

Thinking that she might be waiting for him to make a move, he pushed himself up on one arm. He then used his free hand to trace a path across her shoulder and into the hollow between her breasts. He followed that with a light nip on her shoulder.

Her response was a deep intake of air. "Vincent, please. I'm not up to it tonight."

Although there was no coldness in her voice, Vincent shivered. The times she had refused him could be counted on the fingers of one hand but he would not force the issue.

"Goodnight, Catherine. Rest."

He watched her until she fell asleep then rolled over and tried to make some sense of what was going on with her. It wasn't her lack of interest in making love that concerned him, it was the feeling he had that there was something she wasn't telling him. With that thought, he fell into a restless sleep.

* * * * * *

Anxiously, Catherine shuffled the papers in front of her as she awaited Joe's arrival. The neatly-typed pages contained the deliberately vague request for an extended family medical leave from Peter. It was all very official looking, but Peter had assured her that the medical terms would give no clue as to the real reason for the leave.

She nervously tapped the forms with her pen. Although she felt guilty about her deceit, she just couldn't bring herself to tell anyone about the baby. Why — she didn't know. She just knew, with every passing day, the child she carried was like Vincent. Perhaps that belief made her more protective and more determined to keep her secret life a secret. The sound of Joe's familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. She gathered the papers as she rose from her chair and called out to him.

"Joe, could I talk to you for a minute?"

A bright smile greeted her. "Sure, Radcliffe. Come in."

She followed him into his office and closed the door behind her.

"What's up?" he asked as he removed his jacket and began rolling up his sleeves.

This was going to be more difficult than she thought but it had to be done. She took a deep breath and began. "Joe, I know this comes at a bad time but it can't be helped."

Joe's smile quickly disappeared. "Why do I have the feeling I'm not going to like this?" he quipped as he sat down.

Catherine just smiled at him uneasily then stepped forward to place the forms before him.

He looked at them for a moment. "What's this?"

"It's an official request for a leave of absence."

He looked up at her in surprise. "What?"

His reaction was exactly what she had expected. "I need to take a break, Joe."

Anger replaced his surprise. “Then take a vacation."

She was now on the defensive and she didn't like that. "It's a little more involved than that."

He looked at the papers then back up at her. "What's wrong, Cathy?"

His voice now betrayed his fear and it deeply touched her. In that instant, his feelings for her had never been so obvious. "It's nothing ... that I can talk about right now. You've just got to trust me when I tell you I will be all right."

Joe quickly walked around his desk and looked into her eyes. "You haven't looked well lately. It's got to be serious for you to give up your work. For God's sake, Cathy, I'm your friend! You can tell me."

"You are my friend, Joe. That's why I'm asking you to trust me. Just put this through as quickly as you can."

"Cathy, ... I..."

"Please, Joe."

"I'll do everything I can. With your vacation time added, we can stretch this out to a year. God — I can't imagine you not being here for that long."

Catherine gently touched his arm. "I was gone for six months before," she reminded him.

"It was six months of hell. I remember it well."

The pain she could see in his eyes was very real. "This time, you will know that I am safe. I'll be with Vincent and the kids and I'll be in touch with you. But, Joe, I need the time. If I can't get the leave, then I'll — have to resign."

Joe looked deeply into her eyes. "It's that important?"

"Yes."

Joe shook his head in defeat. "I'll get the paperwork started."

A sigh of relief escaped her. "Thanks."

Once more, Joe looked at her with genuine concern. "Cathy, if I can do anything..."

"I'll ask. You can count on that."

As tears filled both their eyes, Catherine threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him fiercely. He returned that embrace.

Exactly three days after their meeting, Catherine left the D.A.'s office behind her. With some regret and sadness, she closed the door on that part of her life. Whether she returned to it or not, the people and the good accomplished here would stay with her forever.

* * * * * *

Although Vincent was relieved and happy to have Catherine in his life twenty-four hours a day, he was still concerned about the reason. The changes he had seen in her over the last few days disturbed him enough to seek Father's counsel. Perhaps, as a physician, he could shed some light on the problem.

Father listened patiently as Vincent revealed his fears. "Vincent, I must confess some concern on my own. Catherine has shown some troubling symptoms. She looks as if she's at least four months along when she's hardly three. Her blood pressure is elevated as well."

"Have you noticed how — swollen her face is?" Vincent asked.

"Yes, I have."

"Father, is Catherine in danger?"

The older man released a deep breath. "We're watching her closely. If there's a problem, we'll catch it."

Vincent wasn't convinced. "Father, women die in childbirth. You know that."

That bitter memory hurt Father deeply. The guilt he had lived with for so many years came roaring to life.

"I know that all too well."

Realizing the pain he had caused, Vincent moved to Father's side and placed his arm around his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"Nonsense — you have every right to be concerned about your wife. I would be worried if you weren't," Father assured him.

"This is all my fault," Vincent declared angrily.

"No, Vincent. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. Apparently, I didn't do the vasectomy properly. If I had, we wouldn't be having this discussion. You can't blame yourself for loving her. You both thought it was safe. It was my fault it wasn't."

"Father, you're an excellent doctor but I defy every medical principal you were taught. The procedure you learned works perfectly on a normal man. I'm not a normal man."

"Vincent, the fact that you fathered children with Catherine disproves the theory you're..."

"Go ahead and say it, Father — an animal."

"I don't believe that and neither should you. Whatever you are — you are my son and I love you. Catherine loves you as her husband," he tried to reassure his son.

"Thank you for reminding me of my many blessings," Vincent responded with a smile.

"Speaking of Catherine, unless those mysterious messages stop, it's going to be very difficult to keep her from finding out about them."

"I know. I've asked everyone not to discuss it in her presence."

"She's learned enough of our codes to figure it out eventually. Remember, she will be Below for quite a while. Have you managed to discover anything about their source?"

Vincent's eyes focused on the chessboard. In the middle of the board was the Queen.

"No. I have traced the message into the catacombs but it ends when the pipes disappear into the ground." He carefully picked up the game piece and studied it. "There's no possible way anyone could be below that level."

"If the messages weren't so specific, I'd attribute it to some sort of anomaly of nature."

"But the messages are specific to me and that's what disturbs me," Vincent replied.

Father scratched his chin and laughed softly. "If it weren't so annoying, it would make a great Halloween story."

Vincent laughed as he looked at Father. "Indeed!"

* * * * * *

Halloween arrived with its usual fanfare. The children Below were running around trying to put together their costumes and to scare each other. The adults were decorating, cooking, and putting the final touches on the night's coming events.

Vincent watched the rituals he had taken part in as a child with added glee. This year, Jacob was old enough to take part in the activities with the other children. At this moment, he was racing through the tunnels with a group of boys wreaking havoc. He and Devin had done the same thing as boys.

His daughter, on the other hand, was still too young to understand what it was all about, but she was excited all the same. She and her mother had been whispering quite a bit lately, and spending a lot of time Above. He was certain it had something to do with costumes but Catherine's absence disturbed him none the less.

As he walked along the tunnels, a message was being tapped on the pipes. At first, he paid it little attention but when his name was mentioned and the words began the familiar litany, he stopped and listened. Again, he tried to follow the tapping to its source but to no avail. His frustration was growing by leaps and bounds.

"Who are you?" he shouted into the silence of the tunnels. The only response he received was the echo of his own voice.

Later that evening, Vincent dressed in his best clothes and helped Jacob get into his ghost attire. After finishing with his son, he stood back and took a good look. "Jacob, you are the most frightening ghost I have ever seen."

The little boy looked up at him with his shy blue eyes. They were the only things visible beneath the costume’s head piece. "Do you really think so?"

"Absolutely!" Vincent answered proudly.

"Good. I'll go scare Katie."

"Jacob, wait. Take it easy on your sister, she's very young. And please don't give your mother a hard time. She doesn't feel all that well."

"Because she's preg..."

"The word is pregnant and yes, that is why."

Jacob leaned over and lowered his voice. "You don't think anyone could scare the baby out do you?"

Vincent laughed. "No Jacob, I don't think so, but let's not take any chances. I don't want anything to happen to her or your baby brother or sister."

"How many babies is Mommy going to have?"

His son's mind worked in mysterious ways sometimes. "This one will be the last one. I think the three of you will be all your mother and I can handle."

"Daddy, how did the baby get inside of Mommy?"

Vincent felt as if the blood had suddenly drained from his brain and his knees had become jelly. "Uh — Jacob — it's kind of complicated but I guess you could say I put it there —in a way that is."

"Why?"

Oh no. The dreaded why question. This could go on all night, Vincent thought. "Because we love each other. Jacob, are you sure you want to get into this tonight?"

The boy thought it over for a moment. "How did you put it inside her tummy?"

"Jacob, why are you asking all these questions?"

"The older boys said that was why boys have a penis and girls don't," the boy commented innocently.

Vincent could feel the heat rising to his face. Where was Catherine? "It has something to do with it."

Jacob's eyes reflected his sincerity. "They said you put your penis in Mommy. Is that true?"

A cold sweat broke out on Vincent forehead. He wanted to avoid the subject but he realized what affect that would have on his son. He couldn't do that.

"Yes, it's true but there's a lot more to it than you and those boys are old enough to understand. I'll answer all your questions as best I can. Just know that I love your mother and would do nothing to hurt her. When grown-ups feel that way about each other, they share their bodies. I — planted a seed in your mother. Her body will protect it and nurture it until it becomes a baby and is ready to be born. That's as simple as I can explain it."

"Did Mommy want you to do that?"

"Of course, Jacob. I would never force your mother to do anything she didn't want to do. That's something you should remember. Never force anyone to do anything against their will. Do you understand?"

"I think so. I think it's dumb though."

"You won't when you're older. Now, if you keep asking questions we won't get to go trick or treating Above."

Just then Vincent sensed Catherine's presence and looked up. She was standing in the doorway wearing a long, flowing Victorian dress. She was absolutely beautiful.

"Catherine!" he uttered as he rose to his feet. "You look lovely."

"Thank you, kind sir."

Her radiant smile, the gentle sweep of her long hair up off her neck, and the flattering way the dress accentuated her breasts took his breath away. He could only stare.

"Mommy!"

It was his daughter's voice but he couldn't see her. She was apparently hiding behind her mother. "Where's my little girl?"

Catherine reached behind her and led the little girl around to stand in front of her father. "She insisted on this costume," Catherine explained with just a touch of apprehension in her voice.

He looked at his daughter and felt the urge to laugh. The little girl was dressed up like a cat, a kitten to be exact, complete with a tail and whiskers. It was such an endearing sight, he wanted to cry.

"Like Daddy," the little girl declared proudly.

Vincent walked over to her and knelt down. "You look absolutely charming, little one. You truly look like Daddy's little — kitten."

"You're okay with it?" Catherine asked.

"Of course I am. I very proud my little girl wants to be like me. I'm very honored, Mary Catherine."

The little girl smiled happily. "Go up top — I want to go up top."

"As soon as the party here is over. If we don't hurry, we'll miss it," Catherine added.

The children took off down the tunnel and Vincent took Catherine's hand. "Would you do me the honor of accompanying me?"

"It would be my honor," she responded as she took his hand.

"The dress is beautiful, Catherine."

"I chose it because you can't tell I'm pregnant. It hides my stomach."

"It looks wonderful on you, pregnant or not."

As they walked down the tunnel after their errant offspring, Vincent leaned over close to Catherine's ear. "Jacob wanted to know how the baby got into your stomach."

Catherine stopped in her tracks. "What did you tell him?"

"I didn't tell him anything. He asked if it was true that I put my — penis in you."

"Where did he hear that?" she asked in surprise.

"The other boys."

"I don't know how I feel about them talking about us that way. It's kind of embarrassing. What did you say to Jake."

"I answered his questions for now but I think he'll have more."

The thought of trying to explain to her child the basics of reproduction was very unsettling. Her face grew suddenly warm. "You actually told him that you put..."

"I answered his question honestly. Would you have had me lie to him?"

"No, but can you imagine how that must have sounded to a child who doesn't understand all of it?"

He stopped for a moment and considered it. "I remember how shocked I was by it."

"I don't suppose there's any way we can protect him from what the other children tell him, is there?"

"No," Vincent answered simply. "We can only counter it with the truth and with constant reassurances that we love each other. The rest, he'll figure out."

"Hmm — that's a frightening thought?”

After the evening's festivities Below, Catherine and Vincent took the children Above to see the sights for a little while. They walked along the streets in their costumes enjoying this special occasion just like any normal family. For this one night, that's just what they were and Vincent reveled in it.

As the hour grew late, the children began to tire. Vincent soon found himself carrying a soundly sleeping Katie on his shoulder and nudging along a grumpy little boy toward the tunnels. After putting the children to bed, their parents continued their adventure.

The couple walked hand in hand like new lovers drinking in the magic of the night and each other. But as dawn approached, Vincent suddenly began to feel as if someone or something was following them. It wasn't that he actually heard or sensed anything, it was more of a feeling. The kind of feeling that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Vincent, have you heard anything I've said?" Catherine asked in an exasperated tone.

"What?"

"What is it? What has you so distracted?"

He started to explain but thought better of it. There was no need to worry her about a mere feeling.

"The freedom — it's overwhelming. This one night, I can be as any man. I can walk beside you and not feel threatened by the people who pass us. I can hold your hand proudly without fear. Catherine — it is wonderful!"

Her warm laugh touched his heart and he slid his arms around her. On the crowded city street, he began spinning them around as he laughed. He stopped suddenly, however, when he noticed the color slowly drain from her face.

"Catherine?"

"It's all right," she assured him. "All that spinning made me nauseous. I thought it was too good to be true."

"What is too good to be true?"

"So far, I haven't had morning sickness; in fact, I've felt great — until now," she tried to explain.

"Would you like to go home?"

"No. I just need a moment to settle my stomach."

Still wrapped in his tender embrace, Catherine leaned against him and remained silent for a few moments. "Are you feeling any better now?" he gently whispered in her ear.

She took a deep breath. "Much."

He stroked her back. "You haven't felt well for a couple of weeks, Catherine."

She stepped back and looked up into his concerned eyes. "That's not why I haven't wanted to have sex, if that's what you mean."

"I'm concerned you're not telling me everything. It's not just the sex. I am concerned about you." He emphasized the last word to get his point across.

Her defensiveness faded when she realized the depth of his concern. "I know and I'm sorry I implied otherwise. This hasn't been easy for you. I know that."

"Do you feel ill or weak — or what?"

"I can't describe what I feel. I just know it's different than it was with Jake or Katie. Normally, I'm very interested in sex with you, but suddenly I just don't have any desire. I still want to be held and touched and I want to please you but I don't want intercourse."

Vincent lifted her chin with his finger. "Catherine, if you are not interested in intimacy, I can adapt and will not press the issue. You are more to me than just a way to relieve my sexual desires." He smiled playfully. "I spent years practicing abstinence and I think I turned out reasonably well."

Catherine laughed then sighed. "You turned out wonderfully because you were not ruled by your libido as a lot of men are. Love rules you, not lust."

"Exactly. That is why you should feel no guilt if you are not interested in making love right now," Vincent tried to reassure her.

"It's not so much guilt I feel as disappointment. I know how long you were alone and I guess I've tried to make up for it. Besides, I never knew sex could be as erotic and as marvelously fulfilling as it is with you. I don't want to give it up. It's addictive. I just — don't have any desire — now."

She took his hand and they began walking down the street once more. He squeezed her hand gently to express his understanding and support.

* * * * * *

While Vincent and Catherine were enjoying their night Above, Charlie Hamilton walked toward the now familiar chamber of the man known as Father. Since meeting his half-sister a few months ago, the magical world beneath New York had drawn him into the community as one of its own. His relationship with his new sister, her husband and their children had grown and enriched his life beyond measure. He loved his big sister and was determined to help her in any way he could.

"Father?" he called out as he entered the chamber.

"Charlie! What are you doing here tonight? Didn't you have some party to attend or something?"

The young man collapsed into the chair across from Father. "Are you kidding? A first year intern doesn't have a social life."

Father chuckled as he remembered his internship decades ago. "I remember it well. How are things at St. Vincent's?"

"Hectic. I just got off my shift. I thought I'd stop by and talk to you about Cathy."

Father closed the book he had been reading and removed his glasses. "You've noticed then'?"

"The puffiness, the fact she's showing at three months — yes, I've noticed. What are the other symptoms?"

"Her blood pressure is up, her blood work shows an unusually high oxygen level, and she has lost all interest in sex." Father blushed a little when he realized what effect that last comment might have on Catherine's brother. Although he did seem a little uncomfortable with the statement, he recovered his physician's detachment.

"Is that unusual for her?" The question was a difficult one because despite his attempts at professionalism, this was his sister they were talking about.

"According to Vincent, she never lost interest during the other pregnancy until it became physically painful."

Charlie leaned back and responded in a purely scientific manner. "Most species of animal mate, then have nothing to do with their partners

Father realized the comment was simply a scientific observation but still it bothered him. He angrily tapped his cane against the floor.

"Although we do not know what Vincent's origins are, we do not regard him as an animal."

The young man opened his eyes suddenly, realizing he had offended Father. "I'm sorry. I didn't intend that to sound as it did. Vincent means a lot to me and I think of him as human. It was merely an observation that might shed some light on Catherine's problems."

"I must apologize as well. I'm very defensive when it comes to Vincent."

Charlie smiled. "I understand and respect that but we must also consider all the medical aspects that might affect Cathy's health."

"Yes. I agree. Tell me, Charlie. What would your diagnosis be?"

"Except for the oxygen levels, it sounds like a textbook case of preeclampsia."

"Very good. Peter and I have agreed to treat it as such."

Stretching out his long, aching legs, Charlie sought to find some level of comfort for his tired body. "Is that why she took the leave of absence?"

"Yes. Peter recommended it. We don't want this to go into toxemia or anything worse. I have a feeling we're in for a difficult time. The fetus is developing abnormally fast and I don't know how that is going to affect Catherine."

"She told me it was the same with Jake. He was born full term at seven months, is that right?" Catherine's incredible tale of horror had both astounded and angered her younger brother.

"Catherine returned to us in labor. She had been missing for six months and there was no doubt the child was Vincent's. The blood tests proved it. We didn't have time to really get into all the details."

"Was she sure about the time of conception?"

Father blushed again. "Up until that time, their relationship had not been intimate. She was very clear about the night it happened."

Charlie rubbed his tired, burning eyes. "Then I guess we can expect a baby in March."

"Considering how fast things are going I'd say that's an accurate assumption. It's strange, though. Jacob is normal looking but was born in seven months. Mary Catherine was born in the usual nine months. This child... It's all so amazing."

"And quite a learning opportunity," Charlie added with a yawn.

"I think you need to get some rest. Why don't you stay here tonight?"

"I think I'll accept your generosity tonight. The prospect of making that long trip back is not a pleasant one. When will Cathy and Vincent be back?"

"Oh, they don't usually get back from their outing until after dawn."

Standing up slowly, Charlie stretched his arms out and yawned again. "Isn't that a little dangerous for Cathy? That much exertion might be detrimental to her condition."

"I warned her about that but she and Vincent promised me they would take it easy. Charlie, I have long ago realized that no one will take care of those two like those two."

"I suppose you're right. I'm just new at this brother thing. She's all the family I've got. I can't lose her."

"We all love her and will do everything possible to protect and care for her, whatever it takes. She'll be all right, Charlie. Now off to bed with you!"

"Yes sir!"

* * * * * *

After watching the sun come up over the bridge as they sat on the park bench, a weary Vincent and Catherine returned to the tunnels. Vincent tucked his wife into bed and watched her fall asleep. Unfortunately, he couldn't do the same. That feeling that someone was near was still with him and it left him shaken. Once assured that Catherine and the children were safe, he decided to take a walk toward the last place he had heard the tapping and the oddly familiar voice.

He walked for some time until he came to the entrance of the catacombs. Silence surrounded him as he stared down at the pipe that disappeared into the floor of the cavern. There had been no messages for days and he had hoped the pranksters had given up their game out of boredom. Perhaps, their respect and concern for Catherine had stopped them. Whatever the reason, he was glad it was over.

After giving the cavern one final look, Vincent turned to leave the mystery behind him. He didn't get far. A horrible creaking sound stopped him in his tracks. As he desperately searched the dimly lit tunnel for the source of the sound, Vincent spun wildly around. Too late he saw the old beam give way and come crashing down at him.

* * * * * *

Awareness returned in stages as one by one Vincent's senses awakened. The heavy dust blackened the tunnel and made breathing difficult. His lungs burned so badly every breath was a struggle. After determining he had no serious injuries, he pushed himself up into a sitting position only to discover that his legs were pinned beneath the beam.

"Trapped — are we?"

The familiar voice made his blood run cold. It was the voice who's seemingly gentle tone masked its deadliness. Even though he knew the answer, he still asked, "Who are you?" A movement in the shadows caught his attention and he strained to focus his eyes on the figure silhouetted in the eerie blue light.

"You know who I am," the menacing voice responded. The figure turned allowing the light to illuminate his features.

Vincent gasped. "Paracelsus!"

The thin lips turned up slightly in a cold smile. "I'm touched you remember; but then again, you can never forget the faces of the ones you've killed, can you?"

Taking a deep breath, Vincent tried to regain his control. "That's just it — you're dead."

"Did you think that death could defeat me? My boy, you underestimate me. I have simply transformed."

"Look, man, I told you to leave him alone."

The voice, coming from another direction, was also a familiar one. It was one, however, that evoked no fear in Vincent. He turned and his eyes found the strong, bulky figure of his childhood friend.

"Winslow'?"

"Yes, Vincent. It's me," the man answered as he stepped into the light then smiled.

Now totally confused, Vincent shook his head in disbelief. "I must be having some sort of hallucination."

"I've been trying to warn you for weeks, Vincent," Winslow tried to explain.

"You sent those messages?" Vincent asked.

His old friend smiled broadly. "I thought you should be warned. Good idea, huh?"

"But pointless," Paracelsus interjected.

Pointing to Paracelsus, Winslow continued. "He discovered how to cross between the worlds and he's come here to destroy you."

"I've simply come for what's rightfully mine."

"There is nothing here that belongs to you, Paracelsus." Vincent replied in a voice that invited no argument. Anger was burning inside of him with growing intensity.

"On the contrary, Vincent. There is one very important possession I seek."

Winslow literally jumped between Vincent and Paracelsus. "You don't have enough power to defeat the both of us."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Winslow."

Vincent resumed his struggle to free himself. "I will not let you take me."

"It is not you I seek," came the cold reply.

Vincent looked up into the cold eyes of pure evil.

"I have come for the child you sired."

A mighty roar escaped Vincent as he continued his struggle.

"You shouldn't have made him mad, Paracelsus," Winslow warned.

"He can't harm me or prevent me from taking the child. Vincent, do you remember the story I told you of your birth?" He got no response. "The child in Catherine's womb will fulfil that prophecy." He stepped closer and looked down menacingly at Vincent. "It will rip its way out of her body and, in the glory of its strength, this child will become all that you should have. It will embrace its destiny."

Winslow remained in his position between the antagonists. "You're a crazy old man who can't accept his own mortality."

"I will take what's mine," Paracelsus argued as he lunged toward Winslow. Winslow responded by throwing himself bodily at Paracelsus.

Horrible images filled Vincent's mind. The scenes were so terrifying, he could form no words or coherent thoughts. Again, he roared angrily. "NO! NO! NO!"

"Vincent!"

The voice was one of comfort.

"Vincent!"

He found himself moving toward that voice and the peace it offered but the anger remained. "NO!"

"Open your eyes, Vincent!"

Reluctantly and painfully, he forced his eyes open. The blur in front of him soon came into focus. Catherine's face became clear and the concern in her eyes filled him with a short-lived sense of peace. "Catherine?" He touched her face tentatively to assure himself of the reality of her presence.

"It's all right, Vincent. Everything is fine. You just need to rest for a while." Confused, he continued to stare into her green eyes. "What happened?"

Gently, she took his hand in hers and kissed it. "A beam collapsed and pinned you beneath it. You've been unconscious since we brought you back. Father says there's no serious damage, only a few bruises."

Vincent closed his eyes for a moment and in that blackness, the horrible threat of Paracelsus came back. "Catherine!"

"Vincent — calm down!"

He grabbed her shoulders firmly. "You can't have this child!"

Her face turned an ashen color. "What are you talking about?"

"It will kill you! You have to get rid of it now."

The ashen color of her face turned into the deep red flush of anger. "You don't know what you're saying. I'll get Father."

"NO! You're in danger!"

"Listen to me, Vincent. I don't know where this is coming from, but let's get something straight. I will under no circumstances abort this child. I know you're concerned and I realize you're probably still in shock, but I can't understand why you would ever suggest such a thing!"

"It will happen like he said."

"Like who said?" she asked.

"Paracelsus."

"Vincent, Paracelsus is dead. He can't hurt us," Catherine tried to reassure him.

"You don't understand. He wants the baby. He will come for it."

"That's impossible!"

Vincent was almost frantic now. "He says it will — rip its way out of you."

Catherine could see the genuine fear in Vincent's eyes. "Isn't that the story he told you about your birth?"

He nodded.

"It was all a lie, Vincent. He made it up out of his sick, distorted mind."

“But, Catherine..."

"But nothing. I am not about to do something drastic because of some story Paracelsus made up to hurt you. It was a lie. This is our baby, Vincent. Maybe it was unplanned and perhaps you're feeling a little guilty about that but, God willing, I am going to have this baby!"

The conviction and reason in her voice calmed his panic slightly. "I'm sorry, Catherine. I'm just afraid of losing you. I couldn't bear that."

"Listen to me. You must have had some sort of hallucination before we found you. I realize how much that lie upset you and I know you never completely dismissed it, but I want you to remember something. We've had two beautiful children and they were born without any complications. There is no reason to believe that will not be the case with this child."

Tears filled his eyes as Catherine leaned over and kissed him. "I love you," he told her when the kiss ended. "I'm afraid, Catherine."

She lay her head on his chest trying to calm his fears while quietly battling her own as well. Dare she tell him of her own conviction that the child was indeed like its father? If she did, it would only add to his fear and guilt and that wouldn't help anything. No, she had to hide her own fears to help him get through his. She sighed and held him tighter.

Vincent stroked Catherine's back and tried to fight back his terror. Paracelsus' words haunted him but with Catherine in his arms, the horror they invoked lessened. He couldn't stop the tears that slid down his face, however. The relief that she was, for the moment, safe and the comfort she offered began to fill him with hope. Perhaps it was simply a hallucination born of his guilt and fear and not a harbinger of things to come. He had to believe that or go mad.

2- WHEN ALL IS LOST

"Dr. Hamilton?"

Charlie looked up from his patient's chart at the eager young nurse standing in front of him. With a polite smile, he closed the file and gave her his full attention. "Yes, Ms. Barrett."

The young nurse blushed a little under his intense gaze. "You're off-duty as of twenty minutes ago."

"You're absolutely right. Thank you, Ms. Barrett." The young woman's attraction to him was obvious and had caused Charlie some embarrassment over the last few weeks. She was wearing her heart on her sleeve, as his mother had often said. It was too bad he harbored no such feelings for her. She had a great body, a charming smile, and a beautiful face. A man could do a lot worse, but there was too much going on in his life right now for any romantic entanglements.

She stood there waiting as if she was expecting him to ask her something and Charlie was keenly aware of it. He didn't want to hurt her feelings because she was truly a nice person. Who knows, maybe a few years from now... A few years ago, he would have pursued the possibility. "Well, I guess I'd better get out of here."

"Would you... I thought maybe, I could buy you a cup of coffee," she hesitantly suggested.

"Maybe some other time. Right now, I'm so tired all I want to do is sack out. I'm going somewhere where there are no phones, no loud neighbors, no traffic noise, just quiet."

"Sounds heavenly," she answered with disappointment.

"It is. I have seventy-two hours off-duty and I intend to do as little as possible. I would like a rain check on that cup of coffee though."

The nurse smiled a little more hopefully. "You have it."

"Good. Goodnight, Ms. Barrett. I'll see you in seventy-two hours."

"Good-night, Dr. Hamilton."

At four o'clock in the morning, the streets of New York were far from deserted but the people occupying them now were not the polished business types. Everything from drug pushers, hookers, the homeless, to yuppie club-hoppers and up town party-goers could be seen making their way along the streets.

Charlie pulled his coat collar up around his neck. He had been on duty for twenty-four straight hours and eight of them had been in the emergency room. Those had been eight of the most difficult hours he had spent in his medical career to date.

The constant stream of battered and broken bodies almost overwhelmed him. Accidents and illnesses he could deal with but the senseless violence offended him as a human being. In particular, he remembered the fifteen year old boy who had been shot in the back. His spinal cord had been severed and he would spend the rest of his life in a wheel chair. He thought of the sixteen year old girl who had been brutally beaten and raped. Her pain would stay with him forever.

Those images sent a chill up his back that had nothing to do with the November night. It made him long for the warmth and comfort of the community he had discovered living beneath these cold, concrete streets. The acceptance and compassion that he had immersed himself in over the last few months had changed him. That world he shared with the most important person in his life — his sister.

The thought of her made him smile despite himself. Since the loss of his mother, Cathy was the only person he had allowed to get close — and get close, she did. Once accepting him as her half-brother, she had reached into the depths of his heart and had firmly and permanently ensconced herself. Not only had she reached out to him but she had opened her own heart to him as well.

His niece and nephew had totally captured his heart. Little Jake, with his father's sky blue eyes and strawberry blond hair, was every bit his mother's son. Many times he had seen the same devilish glint in the boy's eyes that he had seen in Cathy's. Katie, on the other hand, had her mother's beauty tempered by her father's shyness. She was going to be a real heartbreaker. Charlie laughed out loud. He pitied the boy she brought home to meet her parents. He could just imagine Vincent's response.

Vincent — now there was someone truly unique. The man's sensitivity, his strength, his courage were boundless. The patience he had seen him display with the children seemed limitless. But the thing that impressed him the most was the depth of the love he had for Cathy. The power of that love had often left him speechless. How can two people love so deeply?

As he walked toward Central Park, he wondered if perhaps that was why he wasn't interested in any more casual relationships. Maybe he was holding out for what Vincent and Catherine had. He questioned if that was even possible. All those thoughts and feelings were tumbling through his mind as he headed for the one place he considered home.

* * * * * *

Vincent knelt by the mirrored pool and gazed into his own reflection. As he stared at his own image, a voice behind him put his feelings into words.

"Tyger! Tyger! burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Could frame thy fearful symmetry'?"

The reflection that appeared in the pool beside his was beauty beyond compare and pointed out the stark contrast between the two of them. She continued.

"In what distant deeps or skies

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand dare seize the fire?"

"You've been reading Blake again, haven't you?" Vincent asked with a teasing smile.

Catherine put her arm across his shoulder and continued to gaze at the reflections. "I've always had a passion for William Blake."

"Should I be jealous?"

"Considering the fact that he's been dead since 1827, I don't think you have anything to worry about."

Vincent turned and looked up into his lover's mischievous green eyes. "I am ashamed to admit that anyone who distracts you from me arouses my jealousy." He stood up so that she could straighten her back. He could feel her body's fatigue.

"I wish I could arouse you in other ways and be able to relieve you as well."

He took her gently into his arms. "Catherine, this is only temporary and nothing you should concern yourself with. I am quite content with my lot in life just now. You are here with me and the children — that is enough."

"Is it really?"

He leaned over and kissed her full lips. "Yes. Stop worrying about me. I am fine."

"If you're fine, why are you down here at four o'clock in the morning?"

"I couldn't sleep — that's all. Instead of disturbing you, I decided to just take a walk and ended up here. Speaking of which, why aren't you in bed?"

Catherine rested her head against his solid chest. "When I woke up and you weren't there, I was worried. I've felt some troubling emotions in you lately."

In an effort to comfort and assure her, he began to tenderly stroke her back. "There's nothing to be concerned about. Now, let me escort you back and put you to bed."

"Only if you'll read to me."

"Catherine, it's late."

"Only one poem, I promise."

"I find myself unable to refuse you anything. What would you have me read to you?"

"To The Evening Star."

"I should have known," he laughed.

Shortly; thereafter, back in their chamber, they both lay beneath the warmth of the quilts. Vincent opened Catherine's cherished book and began to read."

"Thou fair-hair'd angel of the evening,

Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light

Thy bright torch of love, thy radiant crown

Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!

Smile on our loves, and, while thou drawest the

Blue curtains of the sky, scatter thy silver dew

On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes

In timely sleep. Let thy west wind sleep on

The lake, speak silence with thy glimmering eyes,

And wash the dusk with silver. Soon, full soon,

Dost thou withdraw; then the wolf rages wide,

and the lion glares thro' the dim forest;

The fleeces of our flocks are cover'd with

Thy sacred dew; protect them with thine influence."

As he read the last line, he looked over at Catherine. She was sleeping peacefully. Carefully, he put aside the book and pulled the covers snugly around her. "Protect them —her with thine influence," he repeated softly then closed his own eyes to join her in slumber.

* * * * * *

Upon reaching the last truly familiar intersection in the maze of tunnels, Charlie stopped and picked up a rock to tap out a message. Just as he was about to strike the pipes, he heard a groan or, at least he thought he did. Not really sure he had really heard something, he waited for a moment. He was about to dismiss the sound as wind in the tunnels until he heard it again. The sound was definitely that of a someone in pain.

Following the sound, Charlie turned down an unfamiliar tunnel. With every step, his better judgment was screaming at him to turn back. He couldn't. Something in that anguished groan told him someone needed help and he could not simply walk away.

As he turned a corner, the dim light of a torch illuminated a crumpled human form propped against the opposite wall. "Hello," he called out. After getting no response, he walked cautiously over to the form. "Do you need help?"

There was a slight movement and Charlie knelt down. It was then he saw the pool of blood forming just under the right arm. Acting on instinct, he lifted the arm and found the injury. There was a deep gash in the wrist. "Damn!" Charlie muttered as he leaned over to check the other arm. There, he found a similar gash. "Oh great!"

He used his tie to stop the blood flow on one arm and his scarf on the other but he knew it was only a stop-gap procedure. The wounds needed to be closed. It wasn't until that moment he realized his patient was a woman. "What in the world made you do this, lady'?"

Frantically, he tapped out the SOS message Cathy had taught him. It was the only thing he could do. Taking her Above would require carrying her all the way across the park then waiting for an ambulance to arrive. He didn't know if she had that much time. If he could get her to Father's hospital chamber, he believed she would, at least, have a chance. It was a gamble, but one he felt justified in taking.

Charlie made use of the time by monitoring his patient's pulse and working with the tourniquet. When he heard hurried footsteps approaching, he sighed in relief then called out. "In here!"  Vincent, along with three young men Charlie recognized as lookouts, appeared in the tunnel.

"What is it, Charlie?' Vincent asked.

"We have to get her to the hospital chamber. She's critical."

When Vincent knelt down to look at the woman, he gasped. "Cassie!"

"You know her?" Charlie asked.

"She's the daughter of two of our helpers. I've known her since she was a child. Her name is Cassandra Stephens — Cassie."

"If we don't do something soon, she'll be a former helper. Got any ideas?"

Vincent rose and removed his cape. Upon hearing the emergency call, he had dressed hastily, grabbing the cloak as a reflex action. Now, he was glad he did. "Geoffrey, you and Zack grab those old pipes in the next section of tunnels. We'll make a stretcher."

It only took a few minutes to put together a makeshift stretcher. The five of them carefully moved the limp body onto the stretcher. With Charlie walking beside his patient to do what he could, Vincent and the others carried the stretcher quickly and smoothly through the tunnels. They stopped briefly to signal ahead for Father and Mary to prepare for the emergency.

When they arrived in the hospital chamber, Father, Mary, and Catherine were waiting. Catherine smiled in relief when she saw that Charlie was not the injured party. From the moment the SOS had been heard, she had feared the worst. She well knew the dangers the world Above held in the cover of darkness. Just the mere possibility of losing her younger brother after having him in her life for only such a short time, was something she just couldn't deal with at all.

"What do we have here?" Father asked.

"Attempted suicide, I'm guessing. Both wrists are slashed."

"Cassie!" Mary gasped when they placed the body' on the treatment table.

"We've got work to do. Vincent, why don't you take Catherine to my study. Zach, you should return to your watch point." Father's orders were given in a tone of voice that demanded compliance. Without question, the room emptied quickly. Those left, worked rapidly to cleanse and close the wounds.

"What happened, Charlie?" Father inquired.

"I just found her like this. Vincent said she's a helper or something?"

"Actually, she's the daughter of Ronald and Abigail Stephens. They were helpers almost from the beginning."

Charlie took a moment to really look at the girl lying on the table. She was so young and beautiful. Her short raven hair framed the delicate features of her face. The full lips, the petite nose, the high cheekbones, and smooth skin were comparable to any model he had ever seen. "I don't understand. Why would someone like this try to kill herself?"

Father sighed. "I know she's been through a great deal lately but the whys will have to wait. What we have to do right now is see that she gets a second chance."

* * * * * *

Vincent and Catherine sat at the big table in Father's study. He was staring at his clenched fists and she was studying him. The pain she felt in him brought tears to her eyes.

To show her concern and support, she reached over and placed her hands on his. "She'll be all right."

Vincent took a deep breath. "I hope you're right. I know Father and Charlie will do all they can..."

"But?"

"But what about after. Catherine, to have committed such an act, she must have lost all hope. We may be able to heal the physical wounds but what of the emotional ones? The ones that drove her to this."

She squeezed his hands lovingly. "I only met her a few times. She seemed so nice. I never suspected anything was going on. Do you know what might have contributed to this?"

"She's been through so much in her short life," he mumbled as he slipped Catherine's hands into his. "I remember her as a child. She was bright, happy and full of life. Just after her fifteenth birthday, her father was killed by a drunken driver soon after her mother was diagnosed with lung cancer. Her mother's death was a slow, horrible one and Cassie was the primary care giver. Instead of enjoying her last two years in high school, she had to accept the responsibility of caring for an invalid mother."

"That's terrible. Was there no one to help?"

"We did all we could. We had someone there while Cassie attended classes during the day but she had so much responsibility. Too much for a young girl."

"It's hard to imagine how devastating that must have been. To lose both your parents so quickly."

"We did our best to help her and she seemed to be making a life for herself. She found a job and had moved into her own apartment. Last we heard, she had even met a young man. I can't understand how this could have happened?"

"It sounds like a case of love gone wrong or maybe everything just caught up with her. We won’t know until she's able to tell us; that is, assuming she lives."

The sheer waste of it all weighed heavily upon his heart. Another concern also began to gnaw at him. "Catherine, the children will be up soon. Why don't you try to get some sleep before they wake? You should be resting."

"I don't think I could sleep."

"You should at least lie down."

"Vincent..."

"Catherine, we all have enough to worry about right now. If something were to happen to you..."

His concern touched her and made her think about her own limitations. He was right. They all had more than enough to worry about tonight. "All right. You win. I'll go lie down for a while but promise me you'll let me know how she's doing."

"You have my word."

With a greater effort than usual, Catherine rose from the chair then leaned over and kissed the top of his head. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too," he replied.

A short time later, Father walked into the study and sat down by Vincent.

"Well?" Vincent asked anxiously.

"Oh — physically, she'll recover. She'll be weak from the loss of blood for a few days and the wounds on her wrists will take a while to heal. I'm more concerned about the emotional wounds. Those are much more difficult to heal."

"Is she awake yet'?"

"No. I gave her a sedative. She should sleep for several hours."

"What then?"

"I honestly don't know. But, at this point, I don't think sending her back Above is a wise idea."

"I agree. We must watch her closely. She might try it again," Vincent agreed.

"I'm afraid so. Right now, Charlie is with her."

Vincent sat back and looked questioningly at Father.

"I suppose, since he found her, he feels some sort of responsibility for her. A feeling that should be familiar to you."

A warm smile of remembrance graced Vincent's face. "That was the night I truly began to live."

"Yes. That night changed us all," Father reluctantly admitted.

"Do you require my assistance any further? The children will be up soon and Catherine is anxious for news of Cassie."

"We could all use some rest. You go to Catherine. I'll have someone relieve Charlie in a few hours."

"You think a great deal of Catherine's brother, don't you?" Vincent observed.

"He is a very bright, dedicated young man. A lot like his sister."

"And perhaps someone to follow in your footsteps?"

"I admit it's been nice having someone to talk medicine with. Watching him go through the training, learning all the latest discoveries from him has been — invigorating. But I don't think Charlie would give up that world for life down here."

"But, as Catherine has proven, a balance can be struck between the two."

Father sighed deeply. "Perhaps. We'll see."

"Goodnight, Father."

"Goodnight, son."

When Vincent entered his chamber, Catherine was in bed and just barely awake. A smile played across her face as he approached. Her sensitivity to their bond had grown over the years until she could sense his presence and his stronger emotions. "Are you asleep?" he asked.

"Almost. How's Cassie?"

Her eyes fluttered open as she asked that question. "Better. Father said she was going to recover physically but emotionally — a lot of work needs to be done."

Catherine rolled over and stroked his arm. "At least she'll have the chance. Where there's life there's hope."

He took her hand in his then gently kissed it.

"I can sit with her," Catherine offered.

"Charlie is doing that right now. Mary and Father will do it tomorrow. You'll have the kids and you don't need to be exerting yourself."

"I'm not an invalid," Catherine flatly stated.

"No, but you are my most precious treasure and I will do what I must to protect you."

Catherine smiled mischievously. "Whether I need it or not!"

"Absolutely!"

They both laughed. "You must try to get some sleep, Catherine."

"The kids will be up soon," she argued.

"I'll take care of them until you've rested. Now, go to sleep." Her eyes were already closing.

"You spoil me — too — much."

Quietly watching as she drifted into deep sleep, Vincent was once again awed by her beauty and the miracle of her love for him. That miracle never ceased to amaze him. He watched her for a little while longer then made his way to his children's chambers.

* * * * * *

Charlie had been sitting in the same chair for over an hour. Although he had dozed off from time to time, sleeping in the old hard back chair was impossible. But then again, he wasn't supposed to be sleeping. He was watching the patient.

He stretched in an effort to relieve the tension in his aching back. A deep sigh, another stretch, then a walk around the chamber were also attempts to stay alert for any change in the young woman.  Above, he knew the sun was coming up on another day. Here Below, the only difference between day and night was the level of activity of the citizens. One of which came walking through the chamber's entrance.

"Good morning, Charlie," the elderly man said as he limped over to the cot. "How's the patient this morning?"

"Still sleeping."

"That's something you should be doing, young man."

Charlie rubbed his tired eyes. "I know but I hate to leave her."

Father smiled. "You sound like someone else I know."

"What?"

"Never mind. I'll have one of the other cots moved in here and you can get some sleep while we watch over Cassie."

Putting his hands on his hips in mock disdain, Charlie asked a rather cynical question. "Now, why didn't you think of that last night'?"

A very loud chuckle escaped Father. "Didn't you know that all young interns must suffer for their profession?"

"Yeah — but I'm off-duty now."

"My dear boy, a doctor is never off duty. Remember that."

After a preliminary examination, Father looked over at Charlie and smiled. "Her vital signs are strong."

Returning the smile, Charlie nodded. "Good." The overwhelming relief he felt surprised him a little. He wasn't at all prepared for such strong feelings about a perfect stranger.

* * * * * *

After a few hours’ sleep, Charlie was awakened by a gentle pressure against his chest. When he finally managed to focus, he found himself staring into two bright green eyes. "Cathy?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you," she whispered softly as she sat down on the cot next to her brother. "How are you?"

"Tired." He looked over at the young woman lying on a nearby cot. "Has she regained consciousness yet?"

Shaking her head sadly, Catherine looked over at the girl. "No."

Charlie slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position. As he did, a book fell into his lap. "What's this?"

"I thought you might enjoy something relaxing to read. I've marked a poem that I think you might have a particular appreciation for — in view of current events."

Noticing the nod of her head toward Cassie, Charlie perceived her meaning fully. "You're doing it."

Catherine's bright green eyes reflected a mock innocence that was betrayed by her smile. "And just what am I doing?"

"What I've heard all big sisters do — matchmaking for her lithe brother."

"I never..."

"Yes, you have!"

"Okay, okay, I confess. You can't blame a girl for trying. I just want you to happy. I want you to find what I have."

Charlie reached up and stroked her cheek. "I know. You don't know how much that means to me. All the things other guys may complain about regarding their sisters, I relish. You can hover over me, match make to your heart's content, pick out my clothes, or whatever your big sister instincts tell you to do. It's okay with me. It just means you care and I wouldn't trade that for anything."

"I do, you know." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Why don't you get yourself something to eat? I'll watch Cassie."

"I don't know..."

With great indignation, Catherine glared at him. "I can handle that. I'm not totally incapacitated!"

Charlie gently patted the swell of her belly. "Maybe not, but you don't need any stress."

"We're talking about sitting in a chair watching an unconscious person. How stressful can that be?"

"Well — I suppose..."

"Go!" Catherine ordered.

"Okay, okay!"

After a filling but simple lunch, Charlie returned to the hospital chamber. There he found Catherine sitting quietly in the chair with her eyes closed. "Are you asleep, sis?"

Catherine was startled by the voice. "Charlie!"

"Now who needs a nap?"

"I wasn't asleep. I was just remembering."

"Anything you want to tell me?"

"Someday — I'll do just that," she answered. "Let me make a suggestion. Try reading to her. You might want to start with this." She handed the poetry book to him. "You might be surprised at the effect a soft, soothing voice has."

Charlie studied the book as Catherine pushed herself up into a standing position. "Blake?"

"Give it a shot," Catherine suggested with a wink. "I've got to go. We'll see you at dinner?"

"Of course."

With a smile, Catherine patted him on the shoulder and left him contemplating her suggestion.

"Oh well, it couldn't hurt." He pulled the chair closer to the bed and opened the book to the page Catherine had turned down.

He cleared his throat and began reading.

"Can I see another's woe,

And not be in sorrow too?

Can I see another's grief,

And not seek to kind relief?

Can I see a falling tear,

And not feel my sorrow's share?

Can a father see his child

Weep, nor be with sorrow fill'd?

Can a mother sit and hear

An infant groan an infant fear?

No, No! never can it be!

Never, never can it be!

And can he who smiles on all

Hear the wren with sorrows small,

Hear the small bird's grief and care,

Hear the woes that infants bear,

And not sit beside the nest,

Pouring pity in their breast,

And not sit the cradle near,

Weeping tear on infant's tear;

And not sit both night and day,

Wiping all our tears away?

O, no! never can it be!

Never, never can it be!

He doth give his joy to all;

He becomes an infant small:

He becomes a man of woe:

He doth feel the sorrow too.

Think not thou canst sigh a sigh

And thy maker is not by;

Think not thou canst weep a tear

And thy maker is not near.

O! he gives to us his joy

That our grief he may destroy;

Till our grief is fled and gone

He doth sit by us and moan."

The message of the poem became clear to him and he understood why Catherine had insisted he read it. It was as much for him as for Cassie.

As he flipped through the pages, a soft moan broke the silence. Quickly putting aside the book, Charlie rushed over to the cot and began to examine the patient. All signs indicated that Cassie was waking up.

Charlie watched as the young woman's eyes fluttered a few times then opened slowly. "Hello there, Cassie. My name is Charlie. Now — just relax. You're safe and you're going to be all right."

It took a few seconds for her to focus her eyes. While she did, Charlie noticed just how dark brown those eyes were. When she finally looked at him, he was immediately captured by their dark depths. But the initial warmth he had seen in them quickly vanished. Those soft brown eyes turned into cold dark spheres then turned away.

Very gently, Charlie lifted her hand and clasped it in between his. There wasn't a lot he could say to someone in so much pain so he simply held her hand and repeated a verse from the poem.

"Think not thou canst sigh a sigh

And thy maker is not by;

Think not thou canst weep a tear

And thy maker is not near."

Cassie looked over at Charlie with a stunned expression. "You're the one... You read to me."

"Guilty. My sister thinks reading has mystical healing powers. Perhaps, she was right."

"Sister?"

"Cathy Chandler. She and Vincent..."

"You mean Catherine?"

"Yes. Do you know her?" Charlie asked.

"Everyone who knows about this world knows the legend of Vincent and Catherine."

"The legend? Does my sister know she's a legend? Gee, her ego is big enough already."

She shook her head.

"I'd better get Father. He wanted to know when you woke up."

"NO!"

"Take it easy. He just wants to make sure you're all right. He saved your life," Charlie tried to explain.

"I don't want to see him. I don't want to see anyone!"

"You don't have to see anyone you don't want to. But, I'll be honest with you, it's going to be next to impossible to avoid everyone down here."

"It's not so difficult if you know where to go."

"I suppose one of those places would be the tunnel I found you in."

"You — found me?"

"Yep! If I hadn't, you wouldn't be here now."

"You'll excuse me if I don't thank you. Being here right now is not what I had in mind."

Charlie's instincts told him he should not pursue the conversation because she wasn't strong enough yet. But he sensed she was leaving the door ajar for him and he could not back away. "And just what did you have in mind?"

"I should think that was obvious. Why the hell didn't you leave me alone? Everyone else has."

"I am not everyone else. I could no more leave you to bleed to death in that tunnel than I could leap over the Empire State Building. For some reason, I happened to find you in time. Whether it was purely a coincidence or predestined, I don't know. Personally, I tend to believe in destiny."

Cassie swallowed hard then licked her parched lips. "I stopped believing in anything a long time ago."

"Apparently. You want to tell me about it?"

"What's the point? I'm tired of talking. I'm tired of — everything. Just leave me alone."

"It's like I said, I'm a stubborn man. For some reason, the thought of someone as young and as beautiful as you giving up on life makes me as mad as hell. If you don't feel like fighting then I'll fight for both of us. I don't know what drove you to this but, Cassie, nothing is worth your life. You can't just quit."

"You're right. You don't know. Just leave me alone."

"You do need to rest but I'm not walking away from this and I won't let you. You try to get some sleep. I'm going to tell everyone that you're feeling better. Someone will be close by at all times in case you need something."

"You mean in case I try to finish the job?."

"The thought crossed my mind." He favored her with his most charming smile. "After all the hard work I've done, the very least you could do would be not to do anything stupid. Let everyone have a restful evening and a good night's sleep. Can you promise me that?"

She stared at him briefly, considering his request. "Whatever."

"That's not good enough. I want your word," Charlie insisted.

"All right, already! I promise not to spoil anyone's day, okay?"

"That'll do, I guess. Now get some rest. I'll bring you some liquids. You need to get down a lot of fluids."

"I could use a stiff drink about now."

Charlie laughed. "See — I knew you had a sense of humor hiding in there somewhere."

"Who's joking?"

He watched as she closed her eyes. That fragile, young girl, so bereft of hope, was calling out to him for help and something in him was responding. But something stronger was stirring in Charlie. A sense of destiny, a feeling of purpose, perhaps even a feeling of belonging had awakened in him. Finding his sister had restored some of those feelings, but what he was experiencing now went way beyond that. He began to wonder just where it was going to lead.

* * * * * *

Vincent and Catherine were managing the colossal task of feeding their offspring, when Charlie entered the large dining chamber.

"I see it's feeding time at the zoo," Charlie commented with a big friendly smile. Considering Vincent's questionable heritage, anyone else would have hesitated to make such a remark but Charlie's brother-in-law took it in the spirit in which it was given. In fact, Charlie found him to have an amazing sense of humor — under the right circumstances. He was sure his sister had something to do with the way he saw himself these days.

Jake and Katie greeted their uncle with the usual enthusiasm. The new distraction only served to fuel their mother's exasperation. "Katie — please!"

"I'm sorry," Charlie apologized. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"I think meal time is over anyway," Vincent remarked. "How is Cassie?"

"Awake."

Catherine finally joined in the conversation after wiping off Katie's hands. "That's great."

"How is her emotional state? Did she tell you why she did such a horrendous thing?" Vincent lifted Jake into his lap as he awaited Charlie's answer to his question.

"That's a little difficult to determine." Charlie began putting together a meal for himself and Cassie as he spoke. "She seems angry that we interfered. She refuses to get into what drove her to it. Getting her through this is not going to be easy."

"Anything worthwhile seldom is," Catherine commented as she winked at Vincent. To her, it was easy to see that her little brother was taking a more than professional interest in the young patient. "Did you read to her like I suggested?"

"Yes — it worked, actually. How did you come up with that?"

A warm smile brightened Catherine's face as she glanced lovingly over at Vincent. "Personal experience."

Charlie noticed the look that passed between the two. He was convinced that that intangible, but intensely felt, something between them could melt the coldest of hearts. It always made him sit back and think. I want to be loved like that. Maybe — someday.

Vincent lingered in the warmth of Catherine's smile for a moment then stood up. He placed Jake on the floor as he did. "I want to talk to Cassie."

"No!" Charlie protested. "She doesn't want to see anyone just yet. I think she's ashamed."

"Allowing her to hide isn't going to help her. She needs to confront her demons. She needs to know that her family down here wants to help her and that we love her." Vincent's argument continued.

"I think she needs a little time first. Besides, we can't help if she won't let us. We have to take this one step at a time."

"Charlie's right," Father interjected. He had overheard the conversation from the entranceway. "If we all go in there trying to right all the wrongs of her life, we'll simply overwhelm her. Charlie's the only one she's had contact with and is talking to so far. I think we should wait until she feels that she can handle the rest of us."

"I realize that, but aloneness is probably part of what drove her to this. It has been known to destroy one's will to live," Vincent said softly.

Everyone in that chamber knew that Vincent spoke from experience. The years he spent as a prisoner to his uniqueness were testimony to that.

Catherine got to her feet slowly. As she straightened up a wave of dizziness caused her to sway unsteadily. Vincent rushed to her side to support her. "Easy, Catherine."

Both Charlie and Father hovered about her asking questions in an effort to determine the problem. "Catherine — what is it?" Father asked.

"I just felt so weak — so dizzy. It's better now," she answered in an effort to calm the panic she felt in Vincent.

"Vincent, let's get her to the hospital chamber. I want to check her blood pressure," Father commanded.

Charlie noticed Vincent's frantic glance at the children who were frightened by their mother's condition. Before he could say anything, little Jake took his sister's hand and looked confidently up at his father. "You take care of Mommy. Katie and I will be all right."

"Jacob, I..."

"I'm grown up enough to look after my sister," the little boy proclaimed.

Catherine clutched Vincent's vest to get his attention. "Let him," she whispered. "Trust him."

After hesitating for a moment, Vincent gave in to his concern for Catherine. "All right. You will take your sister to her chamber and stay with her until I arrive. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir. I can handle it."

"He's a big boy now," Catherine added. "They'll be fine. Besides, we won't be long."

The adults watched as Jacob led his young sister out of the chamber. The second they were out of sight, Vincent swept Catherine up in his arms and headed for the hospital chamber. Father and Charlie were close behind.

* * * * *

"Your blood pressure is elevated. Did you take your medication today?" Father inquired.

"Yes," Catherine responded.

Father studied her for a moment. "I want to increase it. I also want you to lie down as much as possible."

"Will she be all right?" Vincent asked nervously.

"I am going to be fine. Isn't that right, Father?"

For a moment, Father looked as if he had some serious doubts. "Of course. Vincent, take her to bed immediately."

Catherine looked at Father in shock. She raised one eyebrow and tilted her head. "Why Father! I never thought I'd hear you order Vincent to take me to bed! Especially, after all those years of ordering him not to."

Father's serious scowl began to fade into a smile. She had a way of doing that to him and he found it utterly charming. "If you'll let me finish. She is not to exert herself in the least." He returned her teasing, raised eye-brow look. "She will have breakfast in bed and only get up when someone is with her. Is that understood?"

She glanced over at Charlie. When he nodded in agreement, she blushed slightly. "Is this that serious?"

Father took her hand in his. "Yes, Catherine. If left untreated, you and the baby could be in serious trouble. Your condition is not to be taken lightly."

"I'll do whatever you say to protect my baby."

"And I will see that she is taken care of as well," Vincent added.

Once again, he lifted her into his arms then carried her out of the chamber. Charlie watched them go then stepped closer to Father. "It's getting worse, isn't it?"

"It appears to be."

"She could lose this baby, couldn't she?"

"That's a strong possibility at this point. What concerns me more, however, is Catherine. Not only could she lose the baby, but with her elevated blood pressure, she could suffer a stroke. I've seen it happen."

Charlie clenched his teeth. That was a possibility he wasn't prepared to face. "Then we'd better be damned sure it doesn't happen to her."

Placing his hand on Charlie's shoulder, Father responded. "We'll do all that's humanly possible. Might I suggest an occasional prayer as well?"

Charlie walked into Cassie's chamber with food in hand. He found her leafing through the book of poetry Catherine had left earlier. "I warn you. It's habit forming."

Cassie put the book down quickly. "It's just words — silly, meaningless words."

"That's what I used to think!" As he walked over to the chair by her bed, he quickly assessed her condition. A little more color had returned to her cheeks along with a bit more clarity in her eyes. Those were encouraging signs. "I brought you something to eat."

"I don't want anything."

"Probably not, but you're going to eat something."

"Just what do you propose to do? Force feed me."

"If I need to, but I hope it won't be necessary." He stared into her eyes, meeting her challenge.

She blinked then looked down at the simple fare offered. Tentatively, she reached for the sandwich on the tray.

"It's a beginning. Maybe later we can shoot for the stew." Sitting back in the chair, Charlie watched as she ate. As he did, he couldn't help thinking about Catherine.

"You don't have to baby-sit me if you've got somewhere else you'd rather be."

"What? Oh — I was just thinking about someone."

"Your girlfriend?"

Charlie laughed. "Not hardly. I was thinking about my sister."

"Catherine?"

"Yes."

Cassie was interested in talking about anything but herself. "Is she in trouble?"

"In a way. She's pregnant and there are complications. I'm really worried about her." He sighed then looked over at Cassie. She had put down the sandwich and wrapped her arms tightly around her upper body. Her knees were pulled up to her chest. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be burdening you with this."

"Another baby. For years, everyone felt so sorry for Vincent. He was always alone. Nobody expected him to have any kind of a normal life. Certainly, no one expected him to have a wife and become a father. Funny how things work out. He was restricted to living down here and found happiness. While the rest of us..."

"...are still searching," Charlie finished the thought for her.

"Happiness is an elusive thing. The more you search for it, the less likely you are to find it."

Charlie studied her for a moment. She seemed to be letting her guard down a little. "Perhaps it is better to let it find you as Vincent did. And as Catherine did."

"Good things come to those who wait?" Cassie asked sarcastically.

"I suppose it depends if you're the one waiting. Cassie — is that what this was all about?" He could feel her shut him out again.

"I don't want to talk about it. How is Catherine?"

Realizing any progress with Cassie would be slow at best, Charlie decided to back off and follow her lead. "She's better. Her blood pressure is difficult to control and that's dangerous. Tonight, she became dizzy. I'm afraid if we don't get it under control, she'll pass out and hurt herself and the baby — or worse."

"There's more?"

"She could have a stroke and we could lose them both."

"Vincent could end up alone again. What's the point of it all?"

There was anger in her voice. "What's the point of love?" Charlie debated the answer to that for only an instant. "Whether he loses Catherine or not, he will never be alone again. Their love raised him out of that aloneness and fulfilled his destiny. Their love is an entity all its own. You see it in the faces of their children. You see it in their eyes when they look at each other. You feel it when you're around them. Their love will far outlive them. It will continue in their kids and in all the people whose lives have been touched by it."

Charlie was a bit surprised by the intensity of his own words. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that for whatever time we're given, we should live and love to the fullest no matter what form that love may take or how long we have to wait for it."

"Words. They can't get you through a lonely night. They don't help when you've been betrayed yet again. They don't help when you've lost everyone you've ever loved. Your words are empty. Why don't you save them for someone who gives a damn?"

The bluntness of her words made Charlie feel as if he had run into a brick wall. Pursuing this now would be useless but he felt as if a response was needed. "You don't believe in much, do you?"

"I don't believe in anything anymore."

"That means you did once."

Cassie closed her eyes and rested her head against the headboard of the bed. "As a child, I believed in Santa Claus, The Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy. I grew up."

"Personally, I still believe in Santa Claus but the Easter Bunny does stretch it a bit."

That comment almost brought a smile to the young woman's face. "One of these days, I'm going to get you to smile."

Her eyes opened and her head moved into a level position. "Hope springs eternal?"

"I've always been an optimist. I guess that's why I became a doctor."

"There are some things, Charlie Hamilton, that you cannot cure."

"But I can guarantee you one thing, Ms. Stephens, it won't be for lack of trying."

"Find another — cause."

"I happen to like this one. Now, if you'll eat some of this stew, we both can get some sleep."

Cassie studied him closely. "If I eat this stuff, will you leave me alone?"

"I didn't say I'd leave you alone. I said we could get some sleep. To assure that. I plan to read aloud. That should put anyone to sleep."

"Won-der-ful.” Cassie responded in a very sarcastic tone.

Charlie picked up the book in a very grand manner. "That's what I thought."

* * * * * *

The next day, as Charlie walked toward Vincent and Catherine's chamber, he met Vincent carrying young Katie as Jake tried to keep in step with his father. "Where is everybody going?" he asked.

"To class, while I see to some repairs in the pipe chamber," Vincent replied.

Charlie looked down at Jake and made a face. The boy responded with one of his own that elicited a groan and a laugh from his uncle. "Where's Cathy?"

Vincent nodded toward their chamber entrance. "In there —  resting."

"How is she?"

A very concerned expression crossed Vincent's face. "Better, but I'm terribly worried. It wasn't like this before."

"So I've been told. Look — try not to worry about it too much, Vincent. Cathy's a strong woman and with you and the kids pulling for her, she can't lose." Charlie was trying his best to put Vincent's mind at ease, but it was difficult when his own fears were threatening to overcome him. "Do you think she's up to some company?"

"She would love it and I would appreciate it if you would check her condition this morning."

"That's exactly what I had in mind. Have fun in class, kids. I'll see you later, Vincent."

"Oh, Charlie — how's Cassie this morning?"

"Extremely argumentative."

Vincent laughed. "That's a good sign."

"Let's just say it's an interesting development. I'll fill you in later."

After good-byes were said, Charlie walked softy toward the chamber. "Cathy?"

Her soft voice responded. "Charlie! Come in."

Tentatively, Charlie walked into the chamber. He was determined to put forth his most charming, optimistic face but when he saw her, he faltered. Her once bright, smiling face that seemed to flow with good health was pale and puffy. Her eyes looked tired and red. It was very obvious she wasn't feeling well at all. He smiled warmly then walked over to his sister and kissed her on the cheek. "How's it going, sis?"

Catherine rubbed her swollen belly. "I'm afraid it's not going at all. I'm beginning to feel like a very large bump on a log."

As Charlie placed the earpieces of the stethoscope in his ears, he chuckled. "No, Cathy. You're about to give birth to a bump. Now, let's have a listen."

Several minutes passed as Charlie painstakingly checked his sister's condition. When he finished, he pulled the stethoscope earpieces from his ears and let his physician's training assess the information.

Catherine's patience was growing thin. "Well?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was just thinking," Charlie apologized.

"Look, Charlie, I expect Father and Peter to sugar coat the situation but, from you, I want the unvarnished truth."

"I'm only an intern, Cathy."

"A very good one. Besides, Father's been telling you everything. ‘Fess up. It's not good is it'?"

He debated a moment as to what to tell her. "It's not the ideal pregnancy, no."

"I was extremely ill in the beginning with Jake, too. He developed fast. Hell, he was born full term at seven months. Why is this time different?"

"I can only guess. You're almost five years older and this is your third child by a man whose genetic make-up is beyond all current medical knowledge. The thought crossed my mind that you're having more difficulty with this one because it's more like him than the others. I don't know. Father and Peter don't know."

"But what about the tests that you've been running?" Catherine asked.

"All they tell us is that there's something unusual in the child's genetic make-up but we don't know to what extent. We won't know until the child is born."

Catherine took a deep breath. "Let's cut to the chase. Will this child be born?"

"Honestly, Cathy, your guess is as good as mine. I wish I could look you in the eye and tell you everything is going to be all right but you know me too well. All I can tell you is that we're using every trick medical science has to give you and this baby every possible chance of survival."

Determination filled her eyes. "Charlie, I want you to promise me something."

"I'll do the best I can," Charlie responded.

"If it comes down to this child or me — save the child."

"Cathy!"

"No — I mean it. Charlie, this baby is like Vincent — I know it. It has to survive at all costs. It's too important."

"This is crazy. Do you honestly think any of us who love you, could make such a decision? Do you think Vincent would actually even consider it? Be reasonable."

"Charlie, you're not only my brother, you're my friend. I trust you with my life. Please believe me when I tell you that, to me, this child is more important than my life. It has to survive!"

"I don't understand why you feel this way. We will do everything possible to save you both."

"I know that," Catherine smiled and gently stroked Charlie's cheek.  "Just remember what I said."

Ever since meeting his big sister, Charlie had been captured by the look she was giving him now. The warmth and the love he found there drew him in and enveloped him in a cocoon of compassion and acceptance. She trusted him with her entire being. "I don't think I could ever forget it."

She held his hand in hers then placed it on her stomach. "I can't explain how important it is to me to give birth to a child like Vincent. I'm not sure I understand it myself. It's almost as if things will finally come full circle. Do you understand?"

"I understand how much you love Vincent. That's obvious. Getting this worked up over something we don't have much control over is not good for you. That — I know. You need to relax and give both of you as much rest as possible."

"Charlie — when we first met, I wasn't very accepting of your heritage. I apologize for that. Since then, you have become my brother in very sense of the word and — I love you. Never forget that."

The morbid implication of her words terrified him. "I love you too and I plan to spend the rest of my life making up for all the time we didn't have as family. I will not lose you now —understand?"

She smiled then nodded. He watched as the tension eased from her body and her eyes closed briefly. Then, in an abrupt change of subject, she asked about his other patient. "Tell me about Cassie. How are things going?"

"I wish I knew. At times, she's hostile and angry. Most of the time, she's just — distant." "Has she told you why?"

Charlie shook his head in defeat. "No. Just when I think I'm making progress, she slams the door in my face."

"At least she's talking to you. That's a beginning. I just wish she would let us help."

"Me too. I have to go back on duty soon and I'm afraid to leave her."

An infectious smile graced Catherine's face giving it that old warm glow that Charlie loved. That particular smile never failed to draw one from him despite his best efforts. "Stop it!"

"Stop what?" she asked innocently.

"You do that to me every time."

"Do what?"

"Get to me, that's what. Mom used to do that. No matter how upset or worried I was about something, she would look at me like that and things didn't seem so bad anymore."

"I wish I had met her," Catherine responded with an almost wistful quality to her voice.

"Yeah, me too. She kept up with what you and — Dad were doing. At the time, I didn't know why. You're surprisingly like her."

"I take that as a compliment:"

One of the things Charlie had been truly grateful for was the fact that Catherine had not judged his mother harshly. She had accepted what happened between his mother and her father for what it had been — two lonely people briefly easing each other's pain. That thought led him back to Cassie.

"I feel some kind of connection to Cassie. Maybe it's because I found her and somehow feel responsible for her recovery, I don't know. Is it more than that? I'm not sure where the lines are drawn anymore. It used to be so clear cut."

The parallels between Vincent and herself and Charlie and Cassie did not escape Catherine. "Don't worry. Things will sort themselves out. I know."

"You and Vincent?"

"You could say there are certain similarities. That's why I suggested you read to her. What happened to her was as horrible as what happened to me. Hearing Vincent's soft, reassuring voice made me feel safe. He helped me find the strength to go on."

The glow in his sister's eyes when she spoke of Vincent told him just how deeply she loved him. "You were falling in love with him."

"Then — he was my savior, my best friend. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't love at first sight. It took me a while to sort out my feelings."

"That wasn't what I heard," Charlie responded. "Vincent said it was love from day one."

Catherine laughed. "Vincent had the advantage of the bond. I was in shock. I was shutting out my emotions because I didn't want to feel anything. It took me some time to trust and accept my own feelings again. And, of course, we were heading toward a forbidden relationship. One that everyone said had no future and could not last. It took us both a while to really understand what was happening between us."

Charlie laughed. "Sounds like a romance novel to me."

"Better!"

"I get the point, oh wise older sister."

"Older!"

"Chill out! That baby's going to be doing flips."

Catherine stroked her protruding stomach lovingly. "So far, it hasn't moved and I'm getting worried. Jake was moving at this stage."

"Every pregnancy is different and this one is really different." He put his hand on her stomach and rubbed it gently. "This one is defying all the medical boundaries. Don't be too concerned, Cathy. It's just resting and you both need that. Speaking of which, I've got to get out of here. I do have other patients to see."

"I bet they're not half as much fun as I am," Catherine teased.

"You're right." Charlie stood up then leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of Catherine's head. "See you later, sis. Thanks for the advice."

"Any time, little brother. Any time."

That night, after eating dinner with Cassie, Charlie stretched out on the cot in the hospital chamber they shared. All was quiet and soon he drifted off to sleep. Several hours later, however, he was awakened by the sound of a book falling to the floor. The dull thud was just loud enough to cause him to sit up suddenly and look frantically around the chamber. When he looked over at Cassie, he saw her sitting up in bed looking wildly around. He immediately got to his feet and walked over to pick up the book. "It's all right. You just dropped the book."

"Book?"

Charlie sat down on the edge of the cot. "This one."

Cassie took a deep breath. "I was reading it. I guess I fell asleep."

"Blake again. Don't you want something else to read?" Charlie asked as he flipped through the now familiar pages.

"No. I like this."

Remembering Catherine's suggestion, Charlie made an offer. "I'll read to you."

"You don't have to," she responded.

"That's exactly why I want to. Now, just lie back and let me bore you to sleep. I've been told it's better than administrating a sedative." He gave her a moment to relax then he began to read.

He had read almost every poem in the entire book before she finally fell asleep. Time passed unnoticed as he studied her face. In sleep, she was at peace but Charlie knew that somewhere, deep within her own mind, she battled her own private demons. It was a battle he desperately wanted to help her win.

* * * * * *

Catherine's restlessness had only grown worse. Vincent lay sleeping beside her, peacefully oblivious to her discomfort. Normally, he would have been awakened by her slightest move but he was exhausted and she was deliberately blocking their connection. He needed the rest.

She was lying on her side gently stroking her stomach when Vincent rolled over onto his side facing her. She smiled at his peaceful expression. His wonderfully strong, erotic features never ceased to stir her emotions. As she gazed at him, a poem came to mind and she began to whisper it.

"I thought Love liv'd in the hot sun shine,

But O, he lives in the Moony light!

I thought to find Love in the heat of day,

But sweet Love is the Comforter of Night.

Seek Love in the Pity of others' Woe

In the gentle relief of another's care,

In the darkness of night and winter's snow

In the naked and outcast, Seek Love there!"

As she finished, Vincent opened his eyes and looked deeply into hers. With no words spoken, he reached over and stroked her cheek allowing one finger to linger on her lips. She kissed that finger then smiled.

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"I'm glad you did," he answered. "Every moment we spend like this is a treasure."

"I have to be the luckiest person alive."

"No, I am the luckiest person that ever lived."

"No, you're not!" Catherine playfully argued.

"Yes, I am!"

They both laughed until Catherine's sharp intake of air ended their play.

"What's wrong?' Vincent asked with great fear.

Catherine rolled over onto her back and took a few deep breaths. She then rubbed her stomach with both hands. "I think the baby moved."

Vincent sat up and looked down at her stomach. "Are you sure?"

After a brief hesitation, she smiled. "Yes. This miracle baby of ours finally decided to make his presence felt!"

The look in her misty green eyes brought tears to his. Her joy was a living thing that drew him into its depths. He placed his hand on her stomach and felt the slight quickening. "No matter how many times I've done this, the miracle of feeling life in your womb is — is... There are no words magical enough to describe it."

"The look in your eyes tells me everything," she responded softy. "I feel the same way. Sometimes, I think that, in another place and time, you and I would do nothing but make babies."

Vincent sighed. "If it were painless for you and there was no risk, I can think of no better way to spend my life. But that's not reality. Reality is — I'm afraid for you. I don't think we should risk this again, Catherine. We already have two beautiful children and one on the way. I don't want to tempt fate again. You are too important to me."

"Reluctantly — I agree. I'm getting too old for this."

"You are forever young, Catherine."

"And you, my dear husband, are a wonderful liar."

"Beauty is in the eyes and heart of the beholder. Your beauty will never fade," Vincent assured her.

"That's what I've always tried to make you understand." The slight quickening she felt earlier had suddenly become a painful cramp.

"Are you in pain?"

"I'm just cramping a little. You know I tend to do that. It will pass."

"Are you sure?"

Although she told him yes, she wasn't truly convinced of it herself but she refused to worry him. "If you would rub my stomach for a while, I think the cramps will stop."

"Anything you want."

His gentle hands and soothing presence eased her discomfort quickly. The last thing she remembered was the steady rhythm of his hands and his heart.

The next day, Charlie decided it was time for Cassie to get up and about. After allowing her some private time, he reappeared in the chamber with her freshly laundered clothes. Without a word, but with a broad smile, Charlie dropped her clothes on the foot of her bed.

She glanced at them then looked questioningly up at him. "What's this?"

"I believe they're your clothes."

"I know that. Are you throwing me out'?"

Charlie folded his arms across his chest. "Out of this chamber? Yes. Out of the tunnels? No. I'm moving you to your own chamber but first — we're going to take a walk."

Fear filled her eyes. "I don't want to go anywhere!"

"I know. You want to stay here and hide. I'm not going to let you."

"And just who the hell do you think you are'?" Cassie shouted at him.

"That's more like it. Some of the fight's back. Now — get dressed and let's take a walk."

They stared at each other for a moment then Cassie reached over and grabbed the clothes. "I think I can change clothes by myself."

"I should hope so," Charlie responded. "I'll be waiting outside for you."

* * * * * *

They walked through the tunnels in no particular hurry. Along the way, they passed fellow citizens of the community who stopped to offer their best or simply smile their encouragement. At first, Cassie seemed very uncomfortable but, as the walk continued, the discomfort eased. By the time they reached the mirrored pool, she seemed almost content.

Standing side by side, they gazed into the depths of the dark pool. What they saw was the reflection of the morning sky.

Charlie finally broke the silence. "Amazing isn't it?"

Cassie continued to gaze into the reflection. For her, it held no particular fascination. "I would think you would prefer the real thing."

"You mean the sky? You would think so. I guess I've learned that who you're with is more important than where you are."

When he made that admission, Cassie turned to him and stared in disbelief.

Charlie felt her gaze and turned to her.

"Charlie — don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't get involved. Don't mistake some misguided sense of nobility for..."

"For what? Cassie, I care about you — maybe more than I should." He stepped closer and placed his hands on her shoulders. He held her gently but firmly.

Her mind was screaming at her to run, to flee any contact with anyone but she found herself unable to move. The look in his eyes, the need she felt in herself, and a myriad of confused feelings froze her to the spot.

Hesitantly, he leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss. For a moment, she responded then suddenly she pulled away. Her eyes were filled with confusion and fear and he began to regret his lapse of control. He had stepped over the line and perhaps lost any ground they had gained. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have?

The words wouldn't come. She continued to stare at him for a moment then turned and simply ran. She had to get away.

"Damn!" Charlie swore then began to run after her. He caught up with her just outside the hospital chamber.

"I'm really sorry, Cassie. I had no right."

"No, you didn't," she finally managed to answer.

"Can we just forget it happened? I promise not to be that stupid again. Come on —please. Being your friend is very important to me."

He studied her eyes as she considered his plea. "We can walk to Father's study. Do you play chess?"

"Actually, I do. I haven't played in years though."

"Good. That means I've got a chance to beat someone. I think we can get in a few games before I have to go on duty."

"On duty'?"

"At the hospital. I'll be on call for twenty-four hours."

"So — you're not going to be here."

"I'll be back as soon as I get off duty. Cassie, I think you're ready to move into a guest chamber. It's time for you to begin putting your life back together."

The fear in her eyes suddenly vanished. It was replaced by something Charlie couldn't quite comprehend. "Are you all right?"

"You're right, Charlie. It's time I stood on my own two feet again," she responded.

At that time, Charlie believed that what he saw in her eyes was the determination to go on. He smiled. Maybe he had made a difference after all. He reported for duty that night feeling as if the future was indeed looking up.

Vincent walked through the darkened, deserted tunnels alone. It was well past midnight and all but the sentries and himself were sleeping peacefully. Normally, so would he, but tonight the nightmares had returned. The evil one's warnings about the coming child haunted him and would not let him rest. So, afraid of waking Catherine, he had left their chamber for the solitude of the falls.

As he neared the falls, he felt the presence of another. He hesitated for a moment, debating if he should turn back. After deciding that having someone to talk to wouldn't be a bad idea, he continued. He was very shocked at who he found there. Standing very close to the ledge was none other than Cassie Stephens.

Feat welled up in Vincent as he neared the ledge. Had she come here to finish her attempted suicide? Could he stop her in time? Cautiously, he approached the lone figure. Using his softest, most non-threatening voice, he called to her. "Cassie — what are you doing here so late?"

His voice startled her a little and she turned to him nervously. "I couldn't sleep."

Vincent looked out into the mist rising from the falls. "Neither could I. This is a wonderful place to collect your thoughts and find peace."

"There is no such place."

The lack of feeling in the statement caused Vincent to turn and really look at his companion. Inwardly, he was wondering what was going through her mind.

"Making peace with your enemies is far easier than making peace with yourself," she continued.

"It is a battle worth fighting," Vincent responded.

"Is it? You have to have a reason to fight; some hope that what lies ahead is better than what you have now."

Vincent continued to study her eyes in the hopes of finding some desire to continue. "As long as there is life, there is hope."

"No, Vincent, you have that backwards. Without hope, there is no life."

"What happened, Cassie? What destroyed your hope? What took your love of life from you?" Vincent asked in earnest. He watched as tears filled her eyes.

"Pain," she answered simply.

"We have all known pain. We survive it and go on."

"Not when pain is all you feel. Not when love has become the means by which others can either control you or destroy you — or both. Not when everyone you've ever loved has left you. Not when every dream you've had has turned into a nightmare."

"I have known a life that I thought was without hope. I thought I was destined to spend my life alone then — I found Catherine and discovered how wonderful life can be. I learned to dream again and I began to believe that all things are truly possible."

Cassie almost laughed out loud. "Too bad you can't bottle that and sell it." "You just have to have faith, Cassie. You call on all your inner strength."

"I don't have any. I'm tired of fighting losing battles. I'm tired of giving everything and receiving nothing. I'm tired of hurting — tired of losing."

"Then let us do it for you. Let the people who care for you carry the weight of your burdens until you're strong enough."

Cassie stared out into the mist. A parade of images began in her mind. She saw her father's battered and limp body, her mother's wasted body lying in a bed existing only on life support, and her lover's rage-filled face. She closed her eyes in anguish.

"Tell me what you're thinking?" Vincent asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," she replied.

"Tell me," he insisted. "I know the loss of your parents was traumatic, but .."

"That's only part of it."

"Then tell me the rest of it."

She folded her arms across her chest. "I... I can't."

"You can tell me, Cassie."

The images returned in all their horrible detail. His angry face, the words that hurt as badly as his fists, all of it flooded her mind. "He used to get so mad."

"Who?"

"Rob. I met him about a year after Mom died. We dated and soon, he moved in with me. It was all so wonderful then. I had dreams of a marriage and kids — everything."

"What happened?" Vincent prompted her.

"He began to lose his temper. He got so possessive and jealous. If another man even looked at me, he blew his top. One night, one of his friends smiled at me and complimented my appearance. After we got home, he..."

"Go on."

"He flew into a rage and — hit me. He apologized and said it would never happen again."

"But it did, didn't it?" Vincent knew the answer. He had seen the pattern of such violence before.

"Yes. He would find some minor thing and lose control. Nothing I did was ever good enough for him. Every time he hit me, it was all my fault. I had caused it. I was to blame."

"It was not your fault. This man was sick."

"He told me if I ever tried to leave him, he would kill me. There was no way out. He took everything I had, destroyed my dreams, and betrayed my love. There was nothing left —nothing but the peace of death."

"That's why you tried to end your life?"

"No. Hours before Charlie found me, Rob flew into one of his rages again. He was screaming that he was going to kill me. When he came at me, I ran into the bedroom and found his gun. He broke down the door and I..." She closed her eyes and shivered violently. "I pulled the trigger."

"You shot him?"

"I killed him. It was over in a split second. Everything — died. When I cut my wrists, I was already dead inside. Nothing mattered any more. Nothing."

Vincent reached out and pulled her into his arms. He held her gently against his chest offering her his comfort and compassion. "It was self-defense, Cassie. You had no choice."

Cassie shut off the tears and emotions so quickly Vincent was stunned. She stepped back from him and looked defiantly into his eyes.

"You must promise me that you will tell no one!" she insisted.

"Cassie — the truth must be told for your own sake. You cannot begin the healing process until you have faced your demons."

"No! I don't want anyone to know especially Charlie."

"I can't..."

"You must! I want your word, Vincent."

Vincent's word was his bond and, once given, was not broken. To give his word to protect Cassie's secret went against his better judgment. She needed help to make peace with what had happened, not a co-conspirator in her efforts to hide from the truth. But he couldn't risk her thinking that one more person was about to betray her.

"For now. You must tell Charlie soon. Do you understand?"

"I'll tell him. I just need some time that's all."

"All right. I'll give you some time. But Cassie, delaying facing the truth will only make it more difficult."

"I know."

Vincent reached out and took her hand in his. "Let me walk you back to your chamber."

"Thanks, Vincent."

After leaving Cassie safely in her chamber, Vincent walked back to his own. There, he found Catherine still sleeping peacefully in their bed. He walked over to the side of the bed and looked down at her. Even in the darkest part of that other side of him, he could not understand how any man could act so violently against the woman he professed to love. The thought sickened him so much he spent the rest of the night watching over Catherine as she slept.

Over the next few days, a noticeable change took place in Cassie. She was seen mingling with the community as if she was making an effort to fit in again. She visited Catherine on several occasions, ate her meals with the others, and could be seen strolling through the tunnels with Charlie. On the surface, it looked like Cassie was healing but Vincent wasn't so convinced. He knew her secret and until she was willing to face it and put it to rest, no healing could take place.

One night after dinner, Cassie and Charlie stopped by Vincent and Catherine's chamber. Throughout the very friendly visit, Vincent watched Cassie closely. Something wasn't right, he could sense it. When the visit ended, good-byes were said and he watched thoughtfully as they left.

"Are you going to tell me what's bothering you or am I suppose to guess," Catherine asked pointedly.

Vincent sat down in the chair opposite her and silently debated compromising his word to Cassie. "Let's put the children to bed first, then we'll talk," he answered as he watched Jacob yawn.

Later, when that monumental task was accomplished, Vincent curled up with Catherine on their bed.

"Now, tell me why you're brooding," she finally said.

"I gave my word I wouldn't?

"You know as well as I do that some promises have to be broken for the good of the individual. I have a feeling that's what we have here. You know something about Cassie. What is it?"

"Things are not what they seem with Cassie," he stated simply.

"She seems to be getting stronger every day. There's no sign of the anger and depression that drove her to attempt suicide. What is it you sense?"

"It's more than just a feeling, Catherine. When something tragic happens, you have to face it in order to heal. She is not doing that. She is doing and saying exactly what she thinks we want her to?

"You're saying you think it's all a show?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying," Vincent replied.

Catherine sat back and rubbed her temples. "You don't suppose she might..."

"... attempt suicide again?" Vincent finished for her. "Unless she openly deals with her problems, it's a possibility."

"That would devastate us all, but Charlie... He's falling in love with her."

"I know. I just wish..."

"I'm not asking you to compromise your beliefs but there are more people involved in this than just you and Cassie. My God, her life could be at stake."

Catherine's words put things into their proper perspective. She could always cut to the heart of the matter and that ability, once again, had helped him realize what was really important. "In the morning, I will talk to her. If I can persuade her to tell Charlie then I won't be forced to break my promise."

The statement was made in the hope she would confide in Charlie and he could help her find peace with her past. Despite that hope, Vincent harbored a feeling that something was about to happen. Something that would haunt them all for a very long time.

* * * * * *

Charlie and Cassie were sitting in her chamber talking about how well the evening had gone. He knew how much courage it had taken for her to join in the community's social activities. Progress was being made, he could feel it. He had even begun to feel as if he did not have to tread lightly around her.

"You're tired. Perhaps I'd better go," he said when he noticed her stifle a yawn.

"Not yet. I want you to read a little for me. That is — if you don't mind?"

The request was a strange one. He had not read to her since their days in the hospital chamber. "You really want me to?"

With great reverence, she picked up the book by William Blake and handed it to Charlie.

A bookmark was carefully placed between the pages. Charlie opened it to the page and began to read:

"Love seeketh not itself to please,

Nor for itself hath any care,

But for another gives its ease,

And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.

So sung a little Clod of Clay

Trodden with the cattle's feet,

But a Pebble of the brook

Warbled out these metres meet

Love seeketh only Self to please,

To bind another to its delight,

Joys in another's loss of ease,

And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite."

Charlie closed the book and put it aside. The words haunted him but he didn't know why. Gradually, he looked over into Cassie's eyes. What he found there frightened him a little. There was a strange, distant look in her sad eyes. "What do you suppose that really means?" he asked.

She took a deep breath and focused her eyes on Charlie. "I guess it's just a good example of the many ways people see the same thing."

"Yeah — but hell in heaven's despite? Really!"

"It's also like us," she added.

"How do you mean?"

"You look at love like the Clod of Clay."

"I don't know if I like that comparison."

"Just go with me, Charlie," she replied. "On the other hand, I'm like the Pebble of the Brook.

Charlie got up from his chair and sat down beside Cassie on the small couch. "I bet you would say the glass is half empty, right?"

"It depends on what's in the glass."

They both began laughing. Charlie had the most enchanting smile and his perspective on the world and life in it was one of his most charming qualities. As she let herself get caught up in those sparkling blue eyes, she couldn't help thinking. If only I had met him before Rob. If only... She quickly put an end to her musing. It was too late. Too much had happened to go back now. It saddened her to think that he would be the one left to deal with her actions. He deserved better.

The sadness returning to Cassie's eyes ended Charlie's laughter and erased his smile. "What's wrong? Did I say something?"

"No," she responded. "I was just thinking about everything that's happened, that's all."

Charlie reached over and lifted her chin with his finger. "We can't change the past. All we can do is remember the good and let go of the bad."

"I hope you can do that."

"Me?"

"I mean, I'd like you to forget how we met. You know what I mean," she stammered uneasily.

"I will forget the circumstances of how we met but not that we met. You've made a lasting impression on me, Cassie Stephens."

"And you, me. Charlie, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I want you to know that."

"Cassie, I know I promised not to do this again — but..." Cautiously, he leaned closer and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Unlike the first time, she didn't pull away from him or resist his kiss; in fact, she responded. That response gave him the courage to try again and he did.

His kiss was soft and reassuring unlike Rob's. Rob sought only to satisfy his own desires no manner how rough or demanding the method. Charlie offered a gentleness she had not known in such a long time. As much as she wanted to bath herself in that gentleness and fill herself with his strength and comfort, she couldn't. All the years of pain and anger could not be defeated so easily.

She pulled back and looked into his compassionate eyes. Hurting him was the last thing she wanted to do but she had no choice. She could not be what he wanted her to be. She could not give him the love he needed because she had nothing left to give. Silently, she prayed that someday, he would understand.

"No — please. I can't..." she protested.

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. It's not your fault. It's me. I'm just not ready." As she waited for his response, she thought about Rob. He wouldn't have accepted a no. He would have taken what he wanted by force. But Charlie was not Rob. Charlie, although disappointed, was more concerned about her feelings.

"It's a beginning at least, right?"

He was so full of hope and possibilities she almost wanted to believe again. But she couldn't. There was no belief or hope left. She lied. "Right."

"I really had better leave. You get a good night's sleep and I'll come for you in the morning. I have the whole day to do nothing but spend with you. Sweet dreams," he added just before he got up and walked to the chamber's entrance.

"You too," she answered with her most convincing smile. As soon as he walked through the entrance, her smile faded and tears began to burn her eyes. She could not tell him that her dreams had died a long time ago. Sleep was just a temporary escape from the hell her life had become.

* * * * * *

Vincent sat up in bed and looked wildly about the chamber. Perspiration burned his eyes and his heart was pounding in his chest. He took a few deep breaths and managed to get his terror under control. At least he had not awakened Catherine.

The dreams were becoming more frequent and more terrifying. They all stemmed from the messages and the so-called hallucination that followed. Why couldn't he let it go? Why was it still haunting him? Had it really been a hallucination or was it a warning of things to come? He closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands.

Once awakened like this, he knew he could not, go back to sleep. And, as his mind grew more alert, he became more and more aware of a feeling that something wasn't right. Something was about to go very wrong.

After assuring himself that Catherine was all right, he got dressed and went to check on the children. Both Jacob and Mary Catherine were sleeping contentedly and yet he still could not shake the strange and frightening feeling that something was wrong. He ended up wandering through the tunnels trying to put his fears to rest.

His wanderings led him down to the ledge overlooking the falls. He was just about ready to turn back and go home when a movement and a shadow caught his attention. Ducking back into the shadows, he waited.

* * * * * *

Charlie was lying in his bed staring at the ceiling and trying his best to understand his feelings for Cassie. Was he confusing concern for a troubled woman for love or was what he felt for her real? He was beginning to wonder if he would ever know the answer.

Growing tired of trying to figure it out, he simply pushed it from his mind and tried to relax. It didn't work. He couldn't stop thinking about the kiss he had shared with Cassie. It was a mistake, he knew, but it seemed so right at the time. Even more confusing was the fact she had responded then pulled away. She was still battling her demons and he had no right to interfere or add to her problems. He couldn't leave it like this between them. He had to talk to her.

* * * * * *

Vincent watched as the shadow he had seen became a person. That person was Cassie. Why was she here so late and where was she going? he wondered as he watched her walk toward the falls. Maybe she needed the solace of the falls to think things through, but some nagging little fear in the back of his mind was doubtful. He decided he had better follow her.

* * * * * *

Charlie stood outside Cassie's chamber and called for her several times. When his attempts went unanswered, he walked tentatively into the chamber only to find it empty. Where would she have gone this late?

* * * * * *

Vincent was very adept at following someone and not being detected. It was a skill he had mastered with surprising ease. His heritage he supposed.

Cassie was now standing on the ledge looking out at the falls. She seemed lost in thought and Vincent could feel a determination in her that had not been there before. There was also a feeling that a decision had been made. That particular feeling seemed out of place to. Vincent. He decided it would be best to stay close and watch her.

* * * * * *

The trip to Father's study proved fruitless. Thinking that Cassie might have gone there to find something new to read, Charlie had gone in search of her. After leaving the study, he stood at a cross-section of tunnels and ran his fingers through his hair. He was beginning to get a bad feeling about this.

* * * * * *

So far, Cassie had not done anything other than stand on the ledge and look at the falls. Vincent was about to give up and go back to his chamber when Cassie stepped alarmingly close to the edge. His reaction was instinctive. He stepped out of the darkness and called to her. "Cassie — isn't it a little late to be down here?" He wondered if his question sounded as desperate to her as it did to him.

"Don't come any closer, Vincent."

Her response affirmed that deep seated fear he had felt earlier. "Don't do this, Cassie."

"There is no other way for me. Don't you understand?"

Vincent edged just a little closer and Cassie responded by backing nearer to the edge.

"No, I don't understand. Tell me about it, Cassie. Talk to me. It doesn't have to be like this."

"Talk doesn't do any good. It doesn't stop the pain."

"It can help. It can begin the healing. You were doing so well. We thought you were coming out of it," Vincent argued. At this point, he wanted to do anything he could to buy him some time.

Cassie turned to him and stared coldly into his pleading eyes, "I played your game. I got really good at that with Rob. I let him think he had won."

"This is not a question of who wins the game, Cassie. We want to help you."

"You're wasting your time. I'm beyond your help. In fact, I don't want your help."

"And what about Charlie?" Vincent continued. "Was he wasting his time? I know he doesn't think you're beyond help." Vincent saw a brief but very deep sadness in her eyes. "Think about him. If you can find no reason to go on, do it for him."

"I don't want to hurt him."

Her voice was quivering. Maybe there was enough indecision there for him to get through to her. "Then don't. You have the freedom to change your mind. No questions asked." She took a long, deep breath and, for a moment, Vincent thought she had changed her mind. Instead, she leaned further over the edge.

"No!" Vincent screamed. "Cassie, please let me help you."

With tears streaming down her face, she looked at him and pleaded. "Tell Charlie what really happened."

"He should hear it from you. Don't you think you owe him that? He has done nothing but care for you. Why do you want to hurt him so?"

"I can't tell him."

"Tell me what?"

Both Cassie and Vincent were surprised by the familiar voice.

"What are you doing, Cassie? Why are you here?" Charlie didn't want to believe what his eyes and ears were telling him. He wanted someone to tell him it wasn't true.

"Go away, Charlie. It's too late."

"It's never too late. We can start all over again. You just have to believe. You have to have a little faith that tomorrow will be better. We can work through this."

"No, we can't. It's too late."

Charlie changed his tactics. "Then it was all a lie. You used me. You used my feelings for you."

"For that — I am sorry. In another time and place, it could have been different," she responded. "If I had met you before — Rob, then maybe..."

"We still have a chance, Cassie. Don't give up on us."

"You deserve better than — damaged goods, Charlie."

"I deserve someone I care about and that's you!" Charlie adamantly responded.

As the two argued and pleaded with each other, Vincent moved ever so slightly closer to Cassie. Charlie may have been the distraction he needed to get close enough to pull her back from the edge.

"Cassie — don't do this," Charlie continued to plead.

"There's no other way. I can't bear this anymore."

"Why? For God's sake, Cassie, tell me why?"

"I... I can't. Vincent can tell you."

They were both looking at him now so Vincent had to freeze in his tracks. "You should do that."

"No. I... I just can't." She glanced back to make sure how close she was to the edge. A whisper of doubt briefly sparked but quickly died. "Charlie, please try to forgive me. There is nothing in this world that I will miss. But you — Charlie, are my biggest regret."

"Then don't leave me, Cassie." The voice may have been calm but the emotions were raging out of control.

"Let me go, Charlie. Let me find peace."

"No!"

"Goodbye."

With only the slightest movement, Cassie's foot stepped out into nothingness and she vanished over the edge. Vincent's attempt to pull her back left him with empty hands and the horrible realization of what she had done.

"No!" Charlie screamed as he bolted toward the edge.

With the instinctive grace of a cat, Vincent grabbed Charlie with one arm and shoved him back against the rock wall. He had to use his own body to keep him from the edge. No matter how hard he fought, what Vincent knew was now lying at the bottom of the ravine was something he didn't need to see. That horrible image would haunt him the rest of his life and that was something Vincent knew from experience.

* * * * * *

Hours later, Vincent was sitting with Charlie in his chamber. Not a word had been said since news that the body had been recovered from the bottom of the ravine had reached them. Charlie had only murmured something inaudible then he had retreated into his own world of pain. Father had come by and plans had been made. Still, no response from Charlie. All he did was sit on the couch and hold Catherine's book of Blake's poetry to his chest. There were no tears, no outward signs of the pain he was going through. That frightened Vincent.

"Charlie — it's all right to grieve. You have lost someone very dear to you. We all have. We all share the pain and guilt that we could not help her. Let the pain run its course. Don't fight it."

Charlie looked up at Vincent then simply shook his head. He clutched the book even tighter to his chest.

Vincent realized that if he couldn't get through maybe Catherine could. The two shared a very deep bond. After patting Charlie on the shoulder to offer his comfort, Vincent rose and walked slowly out of the chamber. Every step he took toward his own chamber was riddled with pain and guilt. If only, he had moved a little faster. If only he had talked her into revealing her secret to Charlie. If only... If only... Tears streamed down his face as the if onlys tore him apart.

* * * * * *

Catherine had heard the news along with the rest of the community. The loss of such a beautiful, promising young life was a tragedy she felt deeply but the loss of that life's effect on her brother concerned her even more. Charlie — she had wanted to go to him as soon as they returned from the falls but Father suggested she allow Vincent some time with him. With no word in hours, she was getting worried.

When Vincent walked in, the true devastation of the night's events became obvious. His eyes were full of tears and pain. Even his stance and gait reflected his anguish. "Oh, Vincent." She held out her arms to him and he sought comfort there. After giving him some time to regain his seemingly iron-clad control, Catherine asked about her brother. "How's Charlie'?"

"In need of a sister's comfort. He is not allowing himself to grieve. He has closed off his emotions. He just sits there with that book of yours."

"The one he was reading to Cassie?" she asked.

"Yes."

"It meant a great deal to both of them."

Vincent looked into Catherine's compassionate eyes. "I understand how he feels. I have felt that pain."

They looked at each other with a deep, mutual understanding.

"I must go to him. He needs me," Catherine finally stated.

Vincent grabbed her hand as she started to rise from the bed. "Wait. Before you go to Charlie, there are things I can now tell you about Cassie."

"What she told you before?"

"Yes. Maybe if he hears it, it will help him understand. I believe he should hear it from you.

* * * * * *

Catherine stood outside Charlie's chamber. The tragedy of Cassie's death and what Vincent had told her made her concern for Charlie even more intense. Everyone, including herself, believed Cassie was healing and that she and Charlie had discovered something special between them. There was hope — now, it was gone. Gathering all her courage, she walked in.

She found Charlie sitting on his bed clutching the book of poetry she had given him. His eyes were blankly focused on some object on the far wall. He seemed unaware she was even in the room with him. "Charlie?"

There was no response. Catherine walked over and very slowly sat down next to him. As much as she wanted to say something, she couldn't. All she wanted to do was hold him and that's just what she did. She reached over, put her arms around him, and pulled him into her embrace. He resisted for a moment then lowered his head to her shoulder.

"I'm here, Charlie. Go ahead and cry. It's all right."

Charlie responded by reaching around her and holding on as the sobs began. His mother used to hold him that way when he was a kid. He needed that more than he could say.

Catherine held him, stroked his back, and used the sound of her voice to comfort him. There was lithe else she could do. The truth would come later.

When all the tears had been cried out, Charlie lifted his head from Catherine's shoulder. She continued to stroke his back as they sat for some time in silence. Finally, Charlie spoke. "I haven't done that since Mom died."

"I remember doing the same when Dad died. It helps."

"I don't know." Charlie looked at the book clutched tightly in his hand. "Here. You can have this back."

"You can keep it."

"No. I don't want to see it again," he answered angrily.

"I'll take it. If you want to borrow it again, you know where to find it."

Charlie closed his eyes and sighed. "Why, damn it? Was it all a lie?"

"No, honey. I don't think so. I think she truly cared about you but she just had too many wounds that just wouldn't heal."

"It's my fault. I pushed her too hard."

"You didn't push anybody. You did your best to help her. She just wasn't strong enough to help herself," Catherine argued. "Besides, you don't know everything she was dealing with."

"She said there were things Vincent .knew that she couldn't tell me."

Catherine took his hand in hers. "Vincent thought it would be better if I told you."

"Did you know before?"

"I only knew she had confided in him but I didn't know what she had confided. He just told me. I just don't know if you're ready to hear it yet."

"I have to know, Cathy."

"You knew about what happened to her father and the demands made on her by her mother's illness and subsequent death."

"Yes."

"There's more. After her mother died, she met a man named Rob. She fell in love with him and they moved in together. The relationship became an abusive one. There were beatings, forced sex, and verbal abuse. He spent her inheritance and destroyed her dreams until she couldn't stand any more. One night, he came at her in a rage and she — defended herself. She killed him. That was the night you found her."

Charlie sat there in stunned silence.

"You see, Charlie, until she could face that, no one could help her."

"Damn! Why didn't Vincent tell me?"

"And compromise her trust? You know he couldn't do that. She would have felt betrayed again. The only choice Vincent had was to encourage her to tell you."

"Why couldn't she tell me, Cathy? I thought we had something special."

"You did. You were the only person that could get through to her. You have to understand, Charlie. Her feelings for you were frightening her especially after what she had been through with Rob."

"If I had only known..."

"If onlys can destroy you. We can't go back and change what happened."

"So what do I do, Cathy?"

"You let your grief run its course. You feel the pain and remember the good. You hold on to her memory and cherish it. But more importantly — never, ever forget what you felt for her."

"I don't think there's a chance of that."

"Also, don't forget you're not alone. We are here for you. Don't get so wrapped up in your pain that you forget how to reach out. That's what happened to Cassie. She couldn't reach out any more."

Charlie looked into Catherine's eyes and saw only love, acceptance, and an understanding of his pain. He stood up and walked across the room then back again. Slowly, he reached out his hand to Catherine. With a slight smile, she took his hand and let him help her to her feet. "I want to be alone for a while."

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" she asked.

"It will be a while before I'm all right again but having you around will help. You need to go lie down. Don't worry about me."

"I'm your big sister. It's my job to worry about you."

Charlie guided Catherine into his arms and hugged her tenderly. "Thank you, sis. I love you."

"I love you, Charlie. Don't forget that."

"I won't. Now go. I'll see you in the... Hell, it's already morning."

"I'll see you later. Try to get some rest, little brother."

"You too, sis."

Charlie walked her to the entrance then watched as she made her way down the passage. As she did, one of the poems from the book she carried came to mind.

"The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,

The humble Sheep a threatening horn;

While the Lilly white shall in Love delight,

Nor a thorn, nor a threat, stain her beauty bright."

Charlie smiled sadly. A more apt description of his sister could not be found.

He turned and looked back into his empty chamber and thought about the Clod of Clay and The Pebble in the Brook. "Be at peace, Cassie."

3. IMAGES

Vincent often thought the darkness within him had no equal. The horrors he saw humanity heap upon humanity paled in the light of the carnage he could inflict when lost in that darkness. He didn't realize that beyond the darkness was a madness so vile and so deadly that it escaped all comprehension. He was also about to learn that the darkness in some men held more terror than he could imagine.

******

Both Vincent and Catherine were on Charlie's mind as he lay on the uncomfortable cot in the interns' lounge. He was supposed to be catching a few winks between shifts but he could not rest. In the weeks since Cassie's death, sleep, when it came, was often haunted by frightening images followed by feelings of guilt and overwhelming grief. Often, during that time, he had come close to forsaking the troubled world that had destroyed Cassie and retreating to the safe haven of the community Below. It was an inner debate that continued.

One of his arguments for making that move was Catherine. She was experiencing an extremely difficult pregnancy with limited medical aid. It wasn't that Father was negligent by any means. The man was completely devoted to his patient. Charlie's concerns were the primitive surroundings and Father's lack of training in the latest advancements in prenatal care. "Damn!" he swore. He wished he could bring her Above and check her into St. Vincent's. Shaking his head, he realized the impossibility of that.

Charlie had to find consolation in the fact that Catherine's condition had improved over the last few weeks. Her blood pressure had leveled off, the dizziness had not recurred, and the puffiness in her face and ankles had decreased greatly. As of yet, there had been no bleeding and the baby's movements were strong. They were all encouraging signs that perhaps she could carry this baby long enough to give it a fighting chance. But even that issue was uncertain. Catherine was only a little over four months into her pregnancy but looked and had the symptoms of someone well into her sixth month. The gestation periods for her children had varied so much, they could not be certain just where in the actual pregnancy she was.

That familiar tension headache came back as he tried to apply some logic to a completely illogical situation. Why couldn't his sister have fallen in love and married some perfectly boring but completely normal accountant? The image of Vincent in a business suit and tie brought a smile to his face and temporarily eased his headache.

As he rubbed his temples, his eyes focused on the calendar hanging on the wall at the foot of the cot. It was Thanksgiving. Below, everyone would soon be gathering for a community celebration. Father had even promised Catherine she could attend under strict supervision. A part of him wanted to share that traditionally family holiday with her, but the other part could not bear the absence of Cassie. A great sadness filled his heart as he thought about what might have been. His thoughts were disrupted when the resident on duty pushed the door open.

"On your feet, Hamilton. We need all hands in the E.R."

Charlie got to his feet quickly feeling almost grateful for the interruption. "What's up?"

"Someone set off a bomb during the Thanksgiving Day Parade. Every hospital in the area is going to be swamped." The resident hurriedly led Charlie down the hall.

As they rushed toward the E.R., Charlie continued his questioning. "Just how bad is it?"

The resident stopped suddenly and turned to Charlie. "Some son-of-a-bitch set off a car bomb at the exact time the streets were full with people — mostly kids. It doesn't get any worse than that. You'd better brace yourself. You're going to see some of the worst injuries you've ever treated. Some of these people are going to come in here in so many parts you won't know where to start stitching. And, in a lot of cases, there won't be a damn thing you can do for them."

The resident turned and continued his frantic pace down the hall. Charlie followed with his stomach in one big knot.

Below, the sudden boom shook the very walls of the hidden community. There were screams and confused shouts as everyone sought shelter from the downpour of dirt and dust.

Vincent and Catherine had been seated at the head table with Jake and Katie between them. Vincent was helping Jake cut up his portion of turkey and Catherine was trying to cajole Katie into eating her vegetables when the deafening boom reverberated all around them. Before Catherine could even open her mouth, Vincent had grabbed the children and pushed them under the table. He managed to get her on the floor as best he could then used his own body to shield her from the falling debris.

When the shaking finally stopped, it took several minutes before anyone could regain their senses enough to speak. William peeped out from under one of the heavy tables. "What the hell was that?" The question went unanswered as one by one his fellow residents crawled out of their temporary shelters.

Vincent straightened up slowly. "Are you all right, Catherine?"

"I think so," she answered in a quivering voice. "Jake! Katie!"

The two children had been gathered up in Vincent's right arm and were being held tightly to him. They were huddled together in their father's protective embrace.

"Mommy..." Katie began to cry.

Catherine pulled her daughter into her arms and tried to comfort her. "Jake, are you okay?" she asked as she checked Katie for injuries. She had never seen her son more frightened. He crawled over to her and snuggled up against her side. She put her other arm around him and held him close.

They seemed to be all right as far as Vincent could tell. The children were frightened but unhurt. He leaned forward and placed a hand on Catherine's stomach. "Are you sure everything is all right? You didn't injure yourself when I pushed you down did you?"

"No. I don't think so. I don't feel any pain and I'm not bleeding. I'm just relieved that you and the kids are all right. Was anyone else hurt?"

For the first time since the unexplained boom, Vincent began to look around. No one appeared to be seriously hurt. "I think everyone down here escaped injury." He looked up and studied the ceiling. "We'll need to check on the lookouts then begin assessing the damage." A hand on his shoulder interrupted his train of thought. "Father?"

Father peered beneath the table. "Is everyone all right here?"

"Yes," Catherine answered. "We're all a little shaky but we're not hurt."

"Good. As soon as possible, Catherine, I want you to lie down and let me check your blood pressure. Please don't exert yourself. Try to stay calm for the baby's sake."

"We'll do our best," she replied as she continued to hold Jake and Katie as close to her as possible.

Vincent took one last look at his family then stood beside Father. Since no one seemed to be seriously injured, his attention turned to the condition of the tunnels and caverns. "We'd better keep everyone here until search parties can determine the extent of the damage."

"I agree," Father responded.

After helping Catherine out from under the table, Vincent guided her over to a comfortable chair. He knelt down beside her and began searching their bond for any sign of distress. "I don't want to leave you."

"I won't be alone. You have things to do. The children and I will be fine." She leaned over and kissed his cheek "Don't worry about us."

Her smile comforted him. Gently, he wiped the dust from her cheek. "That will never happen," he responded then returned her kiss.

"Jacob, look after your mother and sister until I return."

"I want to go with you," the boy protested. "I want to help."

"I know and I appreciate that but, right now, you are needed here. Knowing that you are here protecting your mother and sister will help me more than I can say. Please — do this for me."

Reluctantly, the young boy agreed. "Okay."

Vincent tousled his son's reddish-blond hair. "Thank you, Jacob." He then kissed the top of Katie's head. "Don't be afraid, angel. Everything is going to be fine."

"Be careful," Catherine whispered. "Come back to us."

He gave her one last lingering look then turned his attention to the emergency at hand.

* * * * * *

Charlie had lost track of how many hours he had been on his feet treating some of the most horrendous injuries he had ever seen. But what made it even worse was the senselessness of it all. Whoever masterminded the bombing wanted to kill or maim as many people as possible. From what Charlie had seen so far, his plan had succeeded.

Just as he was about to take a break, a slender, dark-haired man walked into the E.R. carrying a badly injured child in his arms. "I need help over here," he called out. The resident in charge and two nurses surrounded him and took the child from his arms.

"Hamilton, take care of this man," the resident instructed.

His new patient watched as the nurses guided the gurney with the child on it toward the Intensive Care Unit. From what Charlie could see, the child was critical. He turned his attention to the man who had brought her in. "Come in here and let me check you over."

"The little girl — will she make it?" the dark-haired man asked.

Charlie found himself deeply touched by the man's concern. "Is she your child?" he asked.

"No. I just found her."

The man's face grew pale and he swayed unsteadily. Charlie grabbed his arm and guided him to an examination room. "Lie down for a while."

"I'm all right." A strong hand on the center of his chest forced him back down.

"That's for me to decide."

"I need to get out of here."

"You're not going anywhere until I'm sure you're all right," Charlie responded.

The man's dark eyes focused on him and Charlie could see the shock and, pain of what they had seen. "What's your name?" he asked.

"It's - Devin Wells."

"Do you have anyone you would like for us to call? Any family at all?"

The man thought about it for a minute then answered. "Catherine Chandler. I need to call Catherine Chandler."

Charlie raised his eyebrows and stared at the man. "Catherine Chandler?"

"Yes," the man stammered with uncertainty. "She's my - half-sister."

"Really?" Charlie asked as he folded his arms across his chest. "That's really interesting. She never told me we had a brother."

"What? What the hell are you talking about?"

"What the hell are you talking about? Catherine Chandler is my half-sister. I think she would have mentioned another sibling," Charlie responded angrily.

His patient studied him carefully. "Have you met her husband?"

The expression on his face told Charlie that this stranger was trying to find out just what he knew. He had to be careful. "Yes. Vincent's a real pussycat of a guy."

The man's expression didn't change for a few seconds but then, suddenly, he broke out in laughter. "You've met him!"

"Now - tell me who you really are," Charlie prompted him.

"The name is for real but Vincent is my adopted brother."

"Adopted?"

"If you've met Vincent then you've probably met Father."

"Yes."

"Jacob Wells, Father, is my biological father. I guess you've heard Vincent's story?"

Charlie took a couple of steps backward. Having someone Above who knew about the community Below, other than Catherine, was a little unsettling. "I don't remember him ever mentioning you."

"Figures. I'm the black sheep of the family." He shook his head then looked up at Charlie. "I bet the two of you have a lot in common."

"Especially now," Charlie laughed.

"Why now?"

"Cathy's pregnancy...."

"What? She's pregnant again? Damn!"

That response triggered a hearty laugh from Charlie. It was the first time he had laughed in — he couldn't remember when.

"I think my little brother is trying to keep Ms. D.A. barefoot and pregnant."

“Barefoot would have been better," Charlie responded.

"Is something wrong?"

Charlie debated the wisdom of discussing the situation with someone he hardly knew but he had already said too much. To assure confidentiality and to prepare him, he decided it best to tell all. "She's having an extremely difficult pregnancy."

"I don't like the sound of that," Devin replied. "Maybe you'd better tell me what's going on."

After bringing Devin up to speed, Charlie gave him a little time to assimilate it all. "I don't want you discussing any of what I've told you with them," he warned. "They're both worried enough already."

"Do they have any idea how serious it is?"

"Of course they do. Vincent wanted her to terminate the pregnancy but she adamantly refused. She's convinced the child is like him and she's obsessed with its survival."

"That figures. What's your spin on it? Can it survive without killing Cathy?"

"I don't know," Charlie finally admitted.

"I bet Vincent and the old man are at each other's throats. Father never wanted Vincent to even think about sex. I bet he's using this to prove his point."

"If he is, I haven't seen it. They're both worried sick about Cathy. In a way, it's drawn us together."

Devin sat up on the examination table. "All that going on Below and now this."

"Yeah. Do you want to tell me what happened?" Charlie asked.

"I was coming home to spend the holidays. I had started down an alley where I knew of an entrance to the tunnels when the bomb went off. I was thrown against a building. When I came to, people were hysterical. They were running in every direction — panic-stricken. I've never seen anything like it. They were running over each other trying to get away. That's when I found the little girl. She was trapped beneath the debris. I dug her out and brought her here."

"From what I can tell, you're not seriously hurt. It looks like minor cuts and bruises. Tomorrow, you're going to be terribly sore. You might want to stay here overnight."

"No," Devin answered. "I have to get Below."

"I guess you would be just as well off there."

"It's not that. That bomb went off over one of the sewer connections. The impact of it was felt Below I can guarantee you. I also have to talk to Vincent. I think I know who did this."

"Then why don't you tell the police?"

"It's complicated and I don't have time to get into it right now. I want to talk to Vincent first."

"Mr Wells!"

"Look — Dr. Hamilton, I lived in those tunnels until I was a teenager. I know them and I know the code those people live by. What I saw today affects them. It's something they will have to deal with — not the police. By the way, call me Devin."

"Since we're brothers, you can call me Charlie."

"Okay, Charlie, I'm out of here." Devin winced as he stood. "Could you do me a favor?"

"I suppose," Charlie responded.

"Could you find out how the little girl is?"

"Sure. Wait here."

Devin used the time to wash his face and hands. When Charlie returned, he was almost presentable. "Well?"

Charlie shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry. She didn't make it."

Devin felt as if someone had hit him in the stomach with a baseball bat. His shock quickly turned to anger. "Damn it! How could anyone do this?"

"I also heard that the fatality count is at forty-eight and growing by the minute — and the injuries....  If you know who did this...."

"I'll see you later. I have things to do."

Stunned, Charlie watched as Devin hurriedly left the examining room.

* * * * * *

Vincent was carefully making his way toward the impact point of the explosion. Luckily, the damage he had seen so far wasn't anything that could not be fixed. They would have to block off the section while the city crews made the repairs but the tunnels involved were not essential to the community. All in all, they had survived the crisis in good shape.

Just as he was about to turn back, his sensitive nose picked up the faint smell of smoke and dust. He was nearing the explosion site. With every step, the smoke became so heavy, his eyes burned and his lungs struggled to function. The dust obliterated every ray of light until even Vincent's keen sight could not distinguish the shapes. Believing there was no reason to continue, Vincent stopped and simply listened. The devastation was horrendous. What could have caused such destruction?

As he stared into the darkness, a faint whimper broke the silence. Turning quickly, he soon determined the direction from which it came then began moving toward it. He stumbled over debris as he made his way into the very heart of the destruction. Just ahead of him, he could see a few rays of light making their way around a huge concrete slab. Vincent stopped in his tracks. All of his old fears of the daylight surfaced but the anguished moan he heard pushed aside those fears.

He managed to squeeze through the narrow opening between the slab and the wall. The crevice was hard to negotiate but stepping through into the intense light beaming down from the gaping hole in the street nearly sent him scurrying back. The sight of it was overpowering. Rays of light broke through the dust like the beams of a thousand flashlights. Huge concrete slabs and steel beams lay crushed and twisted like a child's discarded set of building blocks.

Vincent stepped back and surveyed his surroundings. It was the worst disaster he had ever seen. He was so totally caught up in viewing the enormous amount of destruction; the scream that broke the silence caught him totally off guard. Leaping defensively into the shadows, he peered around the crater seeking the source of the sound.

Putting all his keen senses to work, Vincent detected some movement and sound coming from underneath a mound of debris. The sound was human. He had been seen.  As he turned to flee into the safety of the tunnels, a plaintive cry stopped him.

"Please — don't leave me."

Vincent stopped. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to run as fast and as far as he could — but yet, he could not move. He could not turn his back on someone in need even if it meant risking his own safety. Slowly, he turned around and began walking toward the pile of debris.

"Help me, please."

The voice belonged to a woman. Vincent could hear the fear and pain as she pleaded.

"I'm trapped. Don't leave me to die. Please!"

"Are you hurt?" Vincent asked in the softest, most reassuring tone he could muster.

"I — can't feel anything. I'm trapped under this support. I need your help."

"The rescue crews will be here soon." Vincent could hear her sobbing.

"It could be hours. It could all cave in on me!"

"Don't be afraid. I won't leave you." He took a deep breath. There was no way he could remove the debris without her getting a really good look at him. "Before I come closer, you must know that I am — different. My appearance might frighten you."

There was a few seconds of silence. "I know. I saw you in the light."

In Vincent's heart, he knew that was the reason for the scream. "You have nothing to fear from me," he tried to reassure her. An uneasy moment of silence passed as he awaited her response.

"I'm so scared."

"I know. You must try to be strong."

"Do you think you can get me out?"

Vincent studied the debris closely. He wasn't sure that even his superior strength could budge the concrete. "I don't know. I'm concerned that more debris will fall."

"You've got to do something! I can't stand it much longer."

"All right. Do you think you can crawl out if I can lift the support a little?"

"I'll try."

"Lifting the support may cause more pain." He was doing his best to prepare her. "I might not be able to lift it."

"All you can do is try."

Cautiously, Vincent stepped forward. She could see him clearly now. "What is your name?"

"Kathy."

Vincent sighed softly. "My wife's name is Catherine. Her friends call her Cathy."

"Your wife?"

Her incredulous tone of voice was nothing new to Vincent. Each time he told someone, the reaction was the same. "Yes, I have a wife and two — no, three children. My wife is carrying our third child." The conversation was meant to focus her attention on something other than the work he had begun.

"I'm surprised you.... I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I was surprised too."

"Are your children — like you?"

"The two oldest look like their mother. We don't know about the third one yet." He gave her a moment to think about that then returned to the problem at hand. "I'm going to try to lift the support. If you can, pull yourself clear of it. I can't hold it for long, so you'll have to move quickly."

"I understand," she responded.

"Are you ready?"

She took a deep breath then nodded.

Vincent took a deep breath of his own and focused every fiber of his being on the task of lifting the concrete slab. With a firm grip and straining muscles, the battle of brawn versus concrete began. His heart pounded furiously in response to the stress. His arms, his back and his legs quivered as they fought to move the heavy slab. Just as his body was reaching its breaking point, the woman began to pull herself free. Vincent could sense her pain as she struggled to free herself. "Hurry," he groaned as the quivering muscles in his arms threatened his grip on the slab.

The moment her legs were clear of the slab, Vincent's grip failed and the slab crashed down. Dust, once again, filled the air making a clear view impossible. "Are you all right'?" he called out.

"I made it." Her voice betrayed her fear.

It took a few seconds for the dust to settle enough for Vincent to distinguish shapes in the darkness. His eyes strained to find the one thing he was praying to see. Gradually, he could see her lying in a fetal position just beyond the slab. Quickly, he rushed to her side. "How badly are you hurt'?"

"I think my leg's broken. I...."

The abrupt halt in her response caused Vincent to look at her face. She was staring at him in shock. He quickly turned his face away and retreated a little from her.

"I didn't mean to stare."

"I understand," Vincent responded as he moved further away.

"You saved my life. How can I ever thank you?"

"You just did. Rescue parties will be here soon. I'll make sure they know someone is...."

In his attempt to move into the darker regions of the crater, Vincent had continued to move as he talked. Words failed him, however, when his foot made contact with something and he looked down. What he saw lying in the scorched debris took away his words and his breath. His stomach churned and his heart ached. His shock soon turned to rage and it took all his strength not to strike out at anything in his path.

"What is it? What's wrong'?"

The sound of her voice refocused his attention. He stepped away quickly and tried to regain his composure.  All he really wanted to do was run as far away from this place as he could get. "Nothing."

Before she could respond, voices coming from the edge of the crater startled them both. "I'm down here," she called out at the top of her lungs.

Vincent stepped back into the shadows. "I must go."

"Wait."

He turned.

"Thank you. I won't tell them about you. I promise."

Giving her a warm smile and a brief nod, he responded. "Be well."

He now did what he had wanted to do moments before. He turned and ran at top speed through the passageways until the terrain became familiar. When he neared what he knew to be the main center of the community, he stopped to catch his breath. Nothing, however, could erase the image of what he had seen. For as long as he lived, that image would be with him.

The anger Devin felt was fast turning into rage with every step he took. That anger, mixed with the fear of what he might find Below, clouded his mind and his vision. He didn't see or hear the man who grabbed his arm and spun him around.

"Didn't you hear me?'

"Who the.... I remember you. You're Joe Maxwell from the D.A.'s office."

"That's right. What are you doing here? I thought you left New York."

Before Devin could make up some kind of response, Charlie caught up with them.

"You shouldn't walk out before your doctor releases you." He turned to Joe. "Joe Maxwell, I believe. I'm Cathy's brother."

"Oh yeah. I remember. How's Cathy?"

"She's doing — all right," Charlie replied cautiously. He was hoping Devin wouldn't let anything slip.

"Look, you guys can stand here and chat all day but I've got things to do," Devin announced.

Charlie grabbed his arm. "Hold on. Joe, are you investigating this?"

"Everybody is on this one."

Charlie looked over at Devin.

"What's your connection to this guy?" Joe asked Charlie.

"He's my patient."

"Oh."

The look on Joe's face told Charlie there was something between these two he didn't know about. And, for some reason, Devin didn't want to discuss what he had seen with him. "I need to speak to my patient. It was nice to see you, Joe. I hope you find out who did this."

"Don't worry," Joe answered. "Oh. Tell Cathy I'd love to see her or hear from her. Tell her that if she needs me...."

"She knows." Charlie noticed the play of emotions in Joe's eyes when he talked about Cathy.

"Later," Joe said just before he turned and walked away.

As soon as he was beyond hearing them, Devin pulled his arm away. "What's the deal?"

Charlie studied Devin a moment. "We don't have time to get into it now. I have a feeling we both have secrets we need to keep from Joe Maxwell."

"No doubt. I've got to get Below."

"Fine," Charlie responded. "I'm going with you."

"You're needed here."

"Volunteers are coming in from everywhere. We interns are no longer needed. They might need me more Below."

Devin shook his head. "You are Cathy's brother. Okay, let's go."

* * * * * *

When Vincent returned to the chamber where everyone had gathered, all he wanted to do was hold his family. He kissed Catherine, gathered both Jacob and Mary Catherine in his arms, then simply held them as close as he could get them.

Catherine knew what Vincent's silence and his need to touch his family meant. Something he had seen or heard had affected him deeply. Just what that was, he wasn't prepared to share with her yet. All she could do was offer comfort until he was ready to talk.

They sat there for some time in silence. Only the sound of hurried footsteps and familiar voices dispelled the atmosphere of fear. Catherine looked up and saw Charlie rushing toward her followed by Devin. When he reached her, he knelt beside her. "Are you all right?"

Playfully, she mussed his blond hair. "I'm just fine, baby brother."

"Thank God," he responded as he hugged her. "I see Vincent and the kids are okay."

"Yes. Luckily, we didn't have any major injuries or damage. How are things Above?"

Charlie sat back on his heels and debated what he should tell her. "The people Above weren't so lucky. It was a car bomb parked on a street near the parade route. The fatality count is going to be high."

"Oh my God," Catherine moaned. "Do they have suspects?"

"I don't think so," Devin spoke up. He had been watching Vincent as he sat in stoic silence. He knew that look. "Your friend Joe is on the case as well as every federal agency around."

"How did you get here, Devin?" Catherine asked.

"I was coming for a visit. And you know me — always in the wrong place at the wrong time. I met your little brother here at the hospital."

"How...." Catherine began.

"It's a long story best saved for later," Devin commented. He looked down at Catherine's stomach then gently patted it. "I see you two have been at it again. One of these days, you're going to figure out what causes this and...."

Catherine smiled. "And what? Stop? I don't think so."

Devin chuckled then looked over at Vincent. "You and I have to talk, brother."

At first, Vincent didn't respond. He just sat there holding his children close. Devin moved closer and made eye contact with him.  "Vincent, we have to talk — now."

Devin's direct approach seemed to work. Vincent carefully placed his children close to Catherine then stood.

"If this concerns the bombing, Devin, perhaps we should all hear it," Father suggested. Devin turned and smiled. "It's a brother thing," he replied.

"If I didn't know better, I'd swear you two were kids again and plotting some prank." Father remembered those times well.

"It's nothing like that. Come on, Vincent." Devin literally began guiding him away from the others.

"I'm coming too," Charlie announced.

"I don't-think..."

"You said it was a brother thing. You didn't specify whose brother."

The kid had as much spirit as his sister and he had to admit, he was beginning to like him. "Oh hell. Why not'?"

* * * * * *

Sometime later, the three men gathered in the privacy of Vincent's chamber. Vincent stared down at his hands as he sat on the bed he had shared with Catherine. Charlie sat in a chair at the table and watched as Devin paced back and forth. Finally Vincent looked up.

"What is it, Devin?" he asked.

Devin stopped his pacing and looked at his brother. "The bastards who did this escaped into the tunnels."

Vincent jumped to his feet. "What are you saying — that one of our people...."

"One of our former citizens. I recognized him. It was Jeff Mahoney."

"Jeff? He hasn't been a member of this community in years. Are you sure?" Vincent inquired.

"Oh — I'm sure. That birthmark on his cheek was proof enough for me. The other man, I didn't recognize."

Vincent could not shake the image of what he had seen from his mind. The thought that someone who had once been a part of them and knew so much about them could do such a thing terrified him. "They escaped into the tunnels? You are sure of it?" When Devin nodded his answer, Vincent groaned in anger. "We must find them."

Up until that moment, Charlie had been listening in silence. "What do you mean find them? This is a job for the police," he argued.

"We can't have the police searching the tunnels. We can't take the risk." Vincent responded. "Because we live separately from those Above, we have had to develop our own system of justice," he explained. "It is as fair as we can make it but even it has its limits."

"What happens when you reach those limits?"

"Then we must do whatever is necessary to protect the community." Vincent's answer was based on the reality he had grown up with.

Charlie studied Vincent's expression carefully. "It's the whatever that bothers me. It sounds a lot like a bunch of vigilantes."

"Believe me, Charlie; this community does not make rash decisions. Everything here is usually discussed to death before any action is taken. The problem is, we can't wait for a council meeting in this case." Devin walked over and stood in front of Vincent. "You know I'm right. It's you and me, brother."

"Yes," Vincent agreed.

"I'm going with you," Charlie stated as he stood up.

"This is not your fight, Charlie," Devin responded.

"You tell me there's a pair of kooks running around down here with enough explosives to blow up a city block and expect me not to care? All the family I have left lives in these tunnels. I can’t walk away from this. I won't."

Vincent moved around Devin and stood in front of Charlie. "If something happens, Catherine will need you here."

"If something happens, you two macho types might need a doctor."

Devin looked over at his brother and shrugged. It was going to be Vincent's decision. "Maybe, if he goes, Catherine and Father won't be so worried that we're off on one of our adventures. They both believe he's too level-headed for that."

With a great deal of doubt, Vincent finally gave in. "All right."

"What do we tell the others," Charlie asked.

"As much as I hate to lie to Catherine, I have no choice. We will tell them that we are checking for structural damage around the impact site and beyond."

Without another word, Vincent turned and walked through the chamber's entrance. Charlie watched him thoughtfully. "You know him better than I. Is he all right?"

"Something's bugging him other than the obvious. I did think he agreed to my little mission just a little too easily. Well — we'd better get moving. I'll get together the supplies. You get your things together and meet us where we just left everyone. We'll leave from there."

Catherine's stomach was churning again. Despite every precaution they had taken, she felt miserable. Re/ax, she kept telling herself. She closed her eyes and tried desperately to do just that.

"Catherine."

That familiar, soothing voice calling to her made her open her eyes. Vincent's soft, blue ones were looking at her lovingly.

"Are you feeling ill?" he asked.

"Just tired. It's been a long day."

"I know and I hate to add to the burden but Devin, Charlie, and I will be leaving soon."

She didn't like the sound of what she had just been told. "Just where are you going?"

"To look for further damage near the impact site. Devin thinks he saw some problems we missed."

"And?"

Vincent looked over at his children and the image returned. He looked back at Catherine.

"What is it, Vincent? What did you see up there?"

"A lot of damage," he sighed. "That's all."

"You're hiding something from me," she persisted.

Vincent took a deep breath and lowered his voice. "There may be —, bodies in the area. The search for them could lead the authorities into the tunnels. We must prevent that."

"Can't someone else do it'?"

"And just who would you have face such a task? Perhaps Mouse, Jamie, Pascal...."

"No."

"Exactly. Devin and I have dealt with such things before and Charlie may be needed if anyone is found alive. This must be done, Catherine, and I am the logical one to lead."

"I guess you're right. You must promise me you'll be careful. Do not take risks you don't have to for anyone's sake."

"I promise."

Devin and Charlie, laden with backpacks and other supplies approached. Catherine looked up at Charlie. "Take care of him. Don't let Huck and Tom go off on some grand adventure."

Charlie smiled uneasily. "I'll look after them. I promise. You take it easy, sis. We'll be back soon." He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Love you."

"I love you, too. Be careful."

Devin stepped up. "Don't I get a kiss?"

"I suppose so."

He leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek.

"Bring him back to me, Devin," she whispered.

"You bet. I don't want to keep him. He's all yours."

They all laughed then Vincent said his goodbyes to the children. He kissed Catherine affectionately then turned to go.

"Come on, man. She's already pregnant. Give it a rest," Devin shouted a little too loudly. The blushes his comment got were worth it.

* * * * * *

The trio traveled for some time toward the impact site. Just beyond it was a series of drainage pipes that led down into some unchartered tunnels and caverns. But to get to them, they would have to go through the crater left by the blast. It was something Vincent was not looking forward to facing.

When they reached the debris strewn tunnel leading to the site, Vincent halted. He was having a great deal of difficulty finding the courage to face what he knew lay ahead.

"What's up, Vincent?" Devin asked.

He continued to stare into the rays of light that streamed through the opening.

"Oh," Devin said quietly. "You're afraid you'll be seen. Just pull your hood up and stay close to the edges."

Vincent's reluctance had nothing to do with being seen and everything to do with what he had seen The image returned as did his determination to find the men who had done this. Justice had to be served no matter what the price. He gathered his courage, pulled his hood up around his face, then ran through the area. He could not allow himself to pause even for a second as he passed the debris that had hidden the horror. As soon as Devin and Charlie negotiated through the site, they continued their journey.

Several hours later, Vincent was still continuing his breakneck pace.

"Hey, Vincent," Devin called out. "We need a break. I think it's time we made camp for the night."

"We cannot waste time."

Devin grabbed his brother's shoulder and Vincent spun around. "Look — I know you want to find these guys but killing ourselves before we catch up to them is a bad idea."

Finally, Vincent agreed. "You're right. I apologize. We will rest here then continue after a few hours of sleep."

"That's more like it. I'm starved," Charlie admitted.

A camp was established. Bed rolls lay around a small fire and each man ate hungrily. As exhaustion took its toll, each lay down on his bedding. Devin and Charlie were soon asleep but Vincent lay staring into the darkness fearing sleep and the dreams that would come. Eventually, exhaustion won out.

Devin and Charlie were awakened abruptly by Vincent's loud roar of anguish. "What the hell...." Devin fully expected to find Vincent in some life or death struggle with some enemy by the way he had roared. What he found was Vincent struggling with some imaginary foe in his dreams.

"What's wrong with him?" Charlie asked.

"He's having one of his damned nightmares. We'd better wake him up."

That task was easier said than done. Vincent, with is superior strength, was thrashing about wildly. Finally, Charlie and Devin were able to calm him.

"Wake up, Vincent. You're dreaming," Devin shouted.

The sound of Devin's voice brought back memories of the childhood nightmares that had awakened him years ago. Vincent opened his eyes and fought to focus them. "Devin?"

"Yeah. Wake up. Don't tell me those monsters are still after you."

Vincent sat up slowly. "Monsters of a different kind, I'm afraid."

"Do you want to tell us about it'?" Charlie asked.

"No. You two go back to sleep. I need to stretch my legs." Vincent got to his feet and walked into the darkness.

Charlie watched him with concern. "I take it he has these nightmares a lot."

"He's had them since he was a kid. Usually, it was some monster chasing him. The old man thought it had something to do with his dual nature." Devin remembered the screams that often awakened him.

"That shouldn't be the case now. From what Cathy's told me, he's resolved that. I think it has to do with Cathy's pregnancy. The thought that the child might be like him might be bringing all that back."

Devin sat down and sighed. "Just how likely is that?"

"From what I've seen, very likely," Charlie admitted.

"Well, if it is, it'll be better off than him. Vincent didn't have a mother like Cathy or a father who has been down the road he's got to travel. I can't imagine what it's like to live with the demons he faces."

Charlie smiled. "But he has something we may never find. He found the love of his life. I can imagine he thinks it's worth the price."

"Yeah," Devin agreed. "I just hope those demons of his don't mess it up."

The demons Vincent faced in his nightmares that night were not the ones of his childhood. What he had seen at the blast site haunted him without mercy. There, in the darkness, he vowed that justice would be served even if it had to be dealt by his own hand.

Catherine was lying in bed letting the tapping on the pipes lull her into a more restful state. The children were in bed, the community had recovered quickly from the day's tragic events, but Vincent was another matter. Yes, his reason for leaving was valid enough but she knew something wasn't right. There was something in his eyes that evoked fear in her heart — not for herself but for him.

As she lay there rubbing her stomach, she brought his image to mind. Concentrating on that image, she sent him her love and a prayer for his safe return. Instead of the warmth she usually felt in response to such a message, there was a frightening emptiness.

* * * * * *

Devin found his brother sitting on the floor of the tunnel in almost complete darkness. His legs were drawn up close to his body and his arms were wrapped tightly around them. Despite his size, he never looked more like the child he remembered. He watched him for a few moments then cautiously approached.

"What's going on in that head of yours, brother?" he finally asked.

"I want to be alone, Devin."

"I'm sure you do." He sat down on the dirt floor next to him. "I've seen that look before. You've made up your mind that you, and only you, will play judge, jury, and executioner. Am I right so far?"

"Devin...."

"Not this time, buddy. I saw those guys. I saw the damage they did. I — held a little girl in my arms. A little girl so badly burned and hurt, they couldn't save her. When she died, something inside of me snapped. What kind of animal kills children for no reason?"

Vincent was strangely silent and in response, Devin turned to him. In the dim light, he could see the pain in his brother's eyes as well as the tears. The sensitive man that was his brother keenly felt the pain of others and found the waste of human life unacceptable.

Angrily, Vincent got to his feet and began pacing. "Why? Why?" he chanted in increasingly louder tones.

His reaction startled Devin. He watched him for a moment then got to his feet. "We're in this together, brother. If it comes down to it, we will keep these guys from ever seeing the world Above again. We all have a stake in this."

Vincent turned to Devin and stared at him for a moment. He too had witnessed the horrors. "There is an image I cannot erase from my mind. It — eats at me like acid eats away at whatever it touches. It will haunt me forever."

"Vincent — what did you see?"

Devin watched as Vincent's eyes grew cold and filled with dread. "Vincent?"

"NO!"

Despite his brother's love of words, Devin knew that, at times, he had a great deal of difficulty finding the right ones. Whatever he had seen had disturbed him deeply and nothing he could say or do right now could help him.

* * * * * *

After a few hours of sleep, the journey began again. There were only a few possible areas suitable for habitation in this section of the underground pipes and tunnels. That knowledge, plus the fact that Vincent's tracking abilities were keenly focused on the task, assured them they were heading in the right direction.

"How much further?" Charlie asked.

Vincent studied the ground then sniffed the air. "We are nearing their camp. I can smell something — unusual."

Charlie sniffed the air. "I don't smell anything."

Devin poked him with his elbow. "Super nose here can smell a pot roast cooking from over a mile away."

"That's impossible!"

"Charlie, I must warn you about my older brother. You must not take anything he tells you too seriously." Vincent glared at Devin.

A soft chuckle escaped Charlie as he listened to the banter between the brothers. "I hate to put an end to all this enlightening conversation but has anyone given any thought to what we're going to do when we find these guys?"

The expression on Vincent's face changed dramatically. "You do not want to know my thoughts on that subject."

"I honestly don't think they'll just give up and go turn themselves in just because we asked them to — do you?" Charlie questioned both of his companions.

Both were silent for a moment. Finally, Devin answered the question as best he could. "Our first priority is to find them. What happens after that — will be up to them."

Staring into the darkness of the tunnel ahead of them, Vincent urged the group on. "We must go. I don't want them to return Above."

When they took a rest break a few hours later, Vincent impatiently walked ahead to survey the area. Devin and Charlie took advantage of the opportunity to rest and to talk.

"How long have you known him, kid?"

Devin's use of the word kid reminded Charlie of one of the residents he worked with at St. Vincent's. "Only a few months — about the time Cathy found out she was pregnant."

"You mean she introduced you to him just like that?"

Charlie laughed. "No. We met by accident."

Cautiously, Devin asked his next question. "What did you think?"

"Honestly?"

"Yeah — honestly."

"I wanted to know why the hell my sister was involved with ...."

"A freak of nature?" Devin finished his sentence.

"He's your brother. How can you say that?"

"Believe me, it's not something Vincent hasn't already heard or said himself."

Charlie shifted uneasily. He still wasn't quite sure what to make of Vincent's foster brother. "Cathy convinced me to give him a chance or I could go to hell as far as she was concerned. I decided to get to know him. I haven't regretted that decision."

"Have you ever seen him — lose himself?"

"What do you mean — lose himself?

Devin sat back. "If you have to ask, you haven't."

The statement awakened Charlie's curiosity. "What are you talking about?"

"Let's just say that when we find these guys and they provoke him, you're going to witness something you'll never forget. Just remember, it only happens when he's given no other choice. Normally, Vincent's the gentlest man I know."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

"I'm just trying to prepare you, kid."

"What...." Before Charlie could finish his question, Vincent suddenly appeared out of the darkness.

"It's time to go."

They walked in silence for some time into the dark, damp tunnels. Suddenly, Vincent stopped and turned his head to listen. "We're near," he finally said in a soft whisper. "We must go with caution. Spread out. If we are met with violence, the further apart we are, the better chance we have."

Continuing onward, they walked softly and quietly. Each step was carefully planned. If these men were smart enough to build a car bomb, they could most certainly rig traps to protect their lair. Because of this, Vincent led the way making use of his keen eyesight and acute sense of smell. After turning a corner, the trio walked right into a campsite and what appeared to be a makeshift lab.

"What the hell is this?" Devin murmured as he began to walk about the chamber.

Charlie walked around the chamber in the opposite direction. "Looks like some sort of lab."

After carefully examining several miscellaneous items on a work bench, Vincent made his own assessment. "A bomb manufacturing lab to be specific."

"These guys have been busy," Devin commented.

Vincent continued his search of the area while listening for the return of the lab's builders. Several maps and diagrams lying on a desk in the corner captured his attention.

Devin noticed his brother's fascination with the papers. "What have you got there — a how to book on bomb building?"

"Not exactly. I don't believe this!"

By this time, their conversation had attracted Charlie's interest. "What did you find?"

"The Lincoln Tunnel!"

"I beg your pardon," said Charlie.

Vincent's hands were shaking. "Their next target is the Lincoln Tunnel."

"Damn!" Devin grabbed the maps and began studying them as Charlie and Vincent examined the charts and diagrams.

"According to these notes, they charted the busiest times of the day. The loss of life would be enormous," Charlie concluded.

"Based on what we've seen, that's exactly what they want." Devin angrily threw the maps down on the desk.

"We must stop them," Vincent stated with determination.

"We'd better warn the police."

Looking over at Charlie and Devin, Vincent realized a decision had to be made. "We don't have time for that. They could be placing the explosives now."

"I don't think they'd do it this soon," Devin commented.

"How are we supposed to stop them?" Charlie asked.

Already knowing the answer, Devin simply remained silent. He and Vincent shared a look of mutual understanding:

"You will destroy their lab, Charlie. Devin will make sure they do not double back."

"And what are you going to do?"

"I'm going after them," Vincent answered simply.

"Alone! That's crazy," Charlie argued. "These guys are dangerous."

"Vincent knows what he's doing," Devin added as he put his hand on Charlie's shoulder. He also realized that Vincent was leaving Charlie with him so that he wouldn't witness what would happen once he encountered the enemy.

Looking back and forth between the two, Charlie's anger flared. "Cathy's in no condition to have to bury what's left of her husband. I don't want to be the one who has to tell her how you got yourself blown to bits. I don't know what all this is about, but it's not just you, Vincent. You have a family to be concerned about. You're no good to them dead. There has to be a better way."

"No one has a better chance of finding and stopping these fanatics than I do. Charlie, do not think for a moment that Catherine and my children are not on my mind constantly. What I do, I do to protect them and the world I call home. I do not take any risk lightly."

"Then wait for help," Charlie pleaded.

"There is no time. Charlie, promise me that if something does happen, you will look after Catherine and be a father to my children until Catherine finds someone else."

"What?"

"I know the others will do what they can, but you share Catherine's world and would be able to guide the children. I trust no other as I trust you. Catherine will need you."

"Wait just a damn minute...."

Before Charlie could finish his sentence, Vincent abruptly turned his head in the direction of the opposite tunnel. "Someone is coming," he whispered.

A few seconds passed as the trio held their collective breaths. It was Vincent who reacted first. "The two of you hide in the tunnel we just came through. I'll confront them."

"Vincent...."

"There is no time to argue, Charlie. Take him into the tunnel, Devin."

Reluctantly, Charlie was pushed along into the tunnel to hide in the darkness. They remained only a short distance away in case they were needed.

The silence seemed to last forever as they waited. Finally, voices were heard just down the passageway. There was a coldness in their voices that chilled Vincent to the bone. It made the image of what he had seen taunt him and demand vengeance. How dare they treat the destruction they had caused with such casualness? How dare they care so little about human life? What depth of madness existed in the dark recesses of their distorted minds? Those questions only served to fuel his anger. He stepped back into the shadows and waited. The burst of white hot anger he felt earlier was cooling into calm determination. Justice would be served, he repeated to himself.

Two men walked into the chamber. Vincent studied them closely. The tall, lean one was indeed Jeff. The young boy he remembered was barely recognizable. His companion was short and dark. This man was someone Vincent had never met. Remaining in the shadows, Vincent watched and listened as the two laughed.

"We did it, man!" Jeff proudly proclaimed. "They can't ignore us now."

"Damn straight!" his companion replied. "This is war! The higher the body count, the better."

Vincent could take no more. He stepped out of the shadows and focused his attention on the man he knew as Jeff. "That was not the philosophy you were taught as a child, Jeff."

The young man turned around abruptly and found himself face to face with Vincent's imposing presence. "What the hell.... Vincent?"

His companion's look of terror did not escape Vincent. If he were to be perfectly honest, he relished it. It was a feeling he would have taken great shame in normally, but what he had seen had convinced him that nothing would be normal again.

He watched the man stumble backward and fall over a box carelessly placed on the floor. "Your co-conspirator seems to be a bit shaken up. I imagine the, people you two killed felt a similar terror before they died."

"Who — what the hell is he?" the man lying on the floor asked in a disbelieving voice.

Jeff’s  gaze never left Vincent's face. "His name is Vincent. You could say we grew up in the same neighborhood. I left. Vincent stayed."

"You mean he lives down here!" The two men continued to talk as if Vincent wasn't there.

"Where else do you think he could live," Jeff answered.

The other man got to his feet cautiously. "What are you?"

Vincent looked at the man and felt absolutely nothing. Whether the man lacked a soul or if that lack of feeling came from him, was a question he would ponder later. Now was not the time to examine feelings. "What or who I am is not important. I came here because someone saw what you did. I am here because you have chosen to bring your madness into this world and — I will not allow it."

"You will not allow. What makes you think anybody gives a damn about what you think," Jeff’s companion responded defiantly. "Kill him, Jeff. We can't let him out of here knowing what he knows."

Jeff laughed as he returned Vincent's cold stare. "Just who do you think he could tell? He can't go to the cops or anybody else. He can't do a damn thing."

In the tunnel just out of sight, Devin and Charlie were listening intently. Devin whispered softly. "He shouldn't have said that. He's pushing him too far."

Charlie didn't understand just what that meant but, based on the way Devin had said it, he got the feeling that was a bad thing.

"Don't make that mistake, Jeff. I will not let you walk away from what you've done. You must be stopped before your madness can take any more innocent lives."

"And just what do you intend to do, Vincent'?" Jeff asked sarcastically.

"I will do what I must."

Again Jeff laughed. "I know you. Father's inane speeches about non-violence gave you lofty ideals that no man could live up to. You cannot kill with premeditation. You don't have it in you."

"Unlike you?" Vincent responded.

"We are more alike than you think, Vincent."

"How so?"

"You are willing to do what you must for something you believe in. So am I."

Vincent was well aware of the mind game Jeff was trying to play with him. "And what is it you believe in so passionately that you would kill children watching a Christmas parade?"

"No one is innocent. This is war."

"War? Who declared this war and what is its purpose?" Vincent asked.

"We have declared war against the government. It's time all those fat-assed politicians stopped taking our money and controlling our lives. We are freedom fighters, Vincent, in the truest sense of the name. We are fighting for our rights."

That twisted philosophy angered Vincent. "Rights? You stand there and talk of rights! You had no right to take those lives. It is not your right to decide who is to live or die."

"Casualties in a war are to be expected. The more damage we can do, the more attention we will get for our cause?

Vincent stared into the eyes of madness as he looked at Jeff. That look could only be paralleled by the madness he had seen in Paracelsus' eyes. It was a madness he could not understand or fight. In the deepest recesses of his soul, he knew there was only one way this would end. And — it would end.

"The only acceptable casualty is a life that is given for another. The taking of a life for no reason — cannot be allowed. You cannot be allowed to continue."

The other man with Jeff reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun. Vincent reacted quickly to the movement. He grabbed the man's arm and twisted it forcibly in the opposite direction. The sickening sound of a bone breaking and the scream that followed spurred Jeff into action.

A loud roar escaped Vincent as the darkness inside of him took control. He was lost in it, driven by the haunting image that had become a part of him. The rage he had held in check exploded in a burst of violence. As Jeff brought his own gun up to take aim, Vincent slashed savagely at him. His deadly hands made contact and the man screamed in pain as blood began to saturate his chest. Jeff fell backward to the floor and began to crawl away.

Jeff's partner had managed to get his hands on a knife and lunged at Vincent. The knife did not penetrate Vincent's thick clothing but did serve to fuel his rage even further. He grabbed his assailant's arm, spun him around, and caught his throat in a vise-like grip. As the man struggled, Vincent tightened the grip then tossed his victim onto the table. In one quick, deadly swipe of his arm, the man was dead.

As the scent of death filled Vincent's nostrils, he roared again and went in search of his other enemy. He found Jeff pulling himself to his feet and clutching a small device against his blood-stained chest.

"Stop or I'll kill both of us," he frantically ordered.

Jeff didn't realize that when Vincent was lost in his rage, words were just incomprehensible noise. The only thing that could penetrate that darkness was his connection to Catherine. Her emotions reaching out to him was the only power the darkness in him acknowledged. She had ultimate control and she was not there to dispel it.

With another loud roar that left Jeff shaking in his shoes, Vincent struck out at him once more. The force of the blow knocked the small explosive device out of his hand and sent it flying into the opposite tunnel. The blow also broke Jeff’s neck and he fell to the floor.

Before the body stopped moving, a loud explosion sent dust and debris flying everywhere. For a moment, Devin and Charlie couldn't see anything in the thick gray smoke that filled the air. As his burning eyes searched the smoke, Devin finally got a glimpse of a massive figure stumbling toward them. He jumped to his feet and ran toward it.

"Vincent!" he shouted as he tried to help support his brother. "Let's get you over here to see if you're hurt."

Devin struggled with Vincent's great weight and finally managed to get him seated on the tunnel floor. Vincent was breathing heavily and seemed to be still lost in his rage. "Vincent. Vincent!" He clasped Vincent's face in both hands and stared at him. "Vincent, it's Devin. Are you hurt?"

When he received no response or any sign of recognition, Devin turned to Charlie. "You'd better check him over."

Instead of responding to Devin's request, Charlie just sat there. The terrified look on his face was a familiar one to Devin. Witnessing one of Vincent's rages usually did that to people. Right now, however, he didn't have time for explanations. "Get over here!" he ordered. When that didn't work, he reached over, grabbed the front of Charlie's shirt, and yanked him to his knees. "Damn it — get over here."

Charlie's hands were trembling as he reached toward Vincent. After a tentative examination, he pulled away. "He's in shock. He has some minor burns and bruises but, as far as I can tell, he's not hurt badly."

The quivering in Charlie's voice saddened Devin. The two had been close before — brothers-in-law and friends. He wondered what this experience was going to do to that relationship.

"Devin," Vincent murmured weakly.

"I'm here, brother." He watched as the realization of what had happened dawned in Vincent's eyes. The aftermath was always the toughest on Vincent. "It's over now. Those two won't be killing any more innocent kids."

Tears filled Vincent's eyes and despair filled his soul. No matter how justified, killing ripped away a piece of his heart and ate away at his conscience. That, along with the look in Charlie's eyes, brought him renewed awareness of just what he was — and wasn't.

"I suggest we get the hell out of here if you're up to it," Devin suggested. The need to get away from that place and what had happened there was the reason for his urgency. He knew that getting Vincent back to the man Charlie knew and respected was the first step in healing and that wasn't going to happen here.

Still weak from the ordeal, Vincent slowly stood on shaky legs. "I'll be all right."

"Are you sure?" Devin asked with genuine concern.

As Vincent nodded in response, he glanced over at Charlie who had been strangely silent. The young man's eyes stared blankly into the darkness of the chamber. His feelings of shock and confusion were keenly felt and understood. No words could make what Charlie had witnessed any easier to understand or accept. No words could ease the fear now planted in his mind. As he turned to walk down the passageway, his heart sank deeper and deeper into a bottomless pit of shame and guilt.

His brother's feelings were painfully obvious to Devin and Charlie's behavior, though understandable, angered him. He watched Vincent walk dejectedly down the tunnel then looked down at Charlie. "Get your ass up off the floor and get moving!"

Charlie looked up at him.

Devin leaned over and looked menacingly into Charlie's eyes. "I don't have time to sugar coat what you just saw. If you ever had any respect for him, show it now. Get on your feet and help me get him home to Cathy."

The mention of his sister's name, gave Charlie something to focus his attention on. He got to his feet and began following Vincent. Devin stood there for a moment shaking his head. "Cathy, I hope you're up to this one," he whispered under his breath.

* * * * * *

The trip back was long and silent. Caught between Charlie's confusion and Vincent's guilt, Devin was about to call it quits. He couldn't get through to either of them. Charlie looked at him in a haze of shock and disbelief and Vincent — well, Vincent simply withdrew into that damn shell of his.

As they neared the community, the pace increased until it became a foot race of sorts with Vincent leading the pack. The need to get back to the haven of Catherine's arms drove him on. Only she understood. Only she could make him feel human again — and he needed that desperately. There would be no fear or doubt in her eyes. In her eyes, he would find only love and acceptance.

* * * * * *

Catherine had sensed Vincent's approach and was waiting patiently for him in their chamber. She was disturbed by the emotions she felt in him. The fear, shame, and despair that permeated their bond made her heart ache. What on earth could have happened to have caused such feelings? she wondered.

The moment he walked into the chamber, the full force of his agony hit her. His eyes were so full of pain, words failed her. There was no greeting, no gentle, affectionate embrace. All that existed between them was a raw, powerful need for the comfort they found only in each other.

Catherine lifted her arms in invitation and Vincent moved into them. She wrapped her arms around him and held his trembling body. "I'm here," she whispered over and over again. After a few minutes, she asked, "Can you tell me what happened? Are Charlie and Devin all right?"

Vincent raised his head slowly but could not meet her gaze. He nodded in response to her question.

"Vincent, I've never seen you like this. What happened?"

He closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath. After releasing it slowly, he tried to push the memory of what he had seen and done from his mind. He found that he could not. One haunting image would not go away.

"Vincent, you haven't been yourself since you went to check on the damage from the explosion. What happened? What did you see?"

As much as he wanted to spare Catherine the verbal image of what he had seen, he knew that telling her was the only way to relieve his own pain. He had long ago given up the notion that he could or should endure his pain alone. Sharing it with Catherine weakened its hold on him until he was strong enough to overcome it.

"Where are the children?" he asked.

"They're asleep in their chamber."

"I want to see them for a moment. When I come back, I will tell you — everything."

Catherine watched him walk out of their chamber with concern. Whatever had happened to him, was causing him a great deal of pain. The kind of pain that did not heal so easily.

* * * * * *

Devin had cleaned up and changed his clothes. The dust and grime had washed away easily but the memory of the last few days' events could not be rinsed away. He needed the solitude and splendor of the falls to put things into perspective.

Walking out onto the same ledge he and Vincent had frequented as boys, Devin was surprised to see Charlie sitting on the large boulder looking out into the falls. "Hey, kid. What's up?"

Without even looking at him, Charlie shook his head. "Nothing," he replied.

Devin walked over and sat down beside the young man. "Still having trouble with it, huh?"

"He's such a contradiction — you know?"

Devin chuckled slightly. "Yeah, you could say that. That's what you've got to remember. What you saw — was only a part of what he is. The intelligent, poetry-reading man that married your sister is another part — the biggest part."

"He wasn't even human," Charlie responded in amazement. "How.... I don't understand how Cathy...."

"Your sister fell in love with the man — the other, she accepts. From what I've heard, Vincent's rages have saved Catherine's life on more than one occasion."

"Is that what he is to the people down here — a protector?"

"To some — maybe. To most, he is a loyal friend, a patient teacher, a strong leader, and a symbol of hope. He makes us all believe that anything is possible. And when he met Catherine, everyone learned that love can truly conquer all." Devin studied Charlie's face for some sign of understanding.

Charlie got up and walked along the ledge. Looking down, he thought about Cassie. "Love does not conquer all."

"But it makes you believe it can. Look, Vincent's had to walk a very thin line all his life. People shunned him because of the way he looks. The battle he fights each day to keep a balance is — beyond anyone's understanding. If anyone in this world had a reason to be bitter, it was Vincent. But instead of being bitter about what he couldn't have or do, he dedicated his life to the people of this world. It's funny. All those years, I felt guilty about abandoning him. I thought he would be alone all his life. Now — he has a wife and kids and I'm the odd man out."

"He has what we both want," Charlie added.

"Kid — your opinion of Vincent means a lot to him. What he saw in your eyes hurt him badly."

Charlie shoved his hands into his pockets. "I couldn't help it. I wasn't prepared for —that:"

"And how do you think Vincent feels about it? Did you think about that?"

"I.... I don't know."

"Well, I can tell you. A piece of him dies every time he has to — get violent like that. It shames him. It stays with him always. It makes him feel less than human. And when he sees fear in the eyes of those he loves, it breaks his heart."

Charlie looked over at Devin. "What about those?" He pointed to the scars on Devin's cheek.

"We were both kids. I provoked it. It was the first time that — rage came to the surface. It scared the hell out of both of us. But I've learned that Vincent would kill himself before he would hurt someone he loved. You don't have to worry about Catherine, if that's what this is all about."

"I couldn't bear for anything to happen to Cathy."

"Do you think she would stay with him, have kids with him, if she had any doubts at all?"

"I suppose not."

"You've seen them together. Surely, you can see how much they love each other," Devin continued.

"Yeah. I'm just having a hard time dealing with what I saw."

Devin walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Most people would. Just concentrate on the man Vincent is and not what you saw in that chamber. That part of him comes out whenever he, or someone he loves, is threatened. Charlie, let me tell you how it is. If you want to stay in your sister's life, you've got to get past what you saw. You've got to be able to look him in the eye and not show fear. You've got to see him as you did before. Until you can, I suggest you stay clear of Catherine. She won't tolerate it for a minute."

Catherine was thinking about Charlie and wondering just what had happened on their journey. When Vincent walked back into the chamber, her thoughts returned to him.

He seemed calmer now. Perhaps the assurance that the children were safe and sound had helped him conquer his demons. But she was not going to let this pass. Something had upset him terribly and she was determined to find out what had happened. "Feeling better?" she inquired.

Vincent walked over and sat down on the bed beside her. "A little."

She reached up and gently combed a few strands of his hair with her fingers. This allowed her to get a good look into his blue eyes. "Tell me what's bothering you."

Vincent closed his eyes and sighed. That momentary escape from her questioning gaze only gave the horrible image he was carrying in his mind a chance to surface once more. He opened his eyes quickly. "I don't know if words can describe it."

"Try."

Reluctantly, he brought the memories to the surface. "Right after the explosion, when I went in search of damage, I found the impact point. The street had collapsed into the tunnels and a woman was pinned in the debris."

"She saw you?"

"Yes, but I could not leave her like that. I lifted a support off of her and she crawled out."

Surely, that could not be what was upsetting him so badly, Catherine thought. "Was she badly hurt?"

"No."

Patiently, she waited.

"Finding the woman and the fact that she saw me is not what is troubling me."

"Then what is?"

The words were hard to find. "It was what I found in the debris."

"Can you tell me?"

Tears burned his eyes and his chest felt tight and constricted. "There was — a child in the debris — or what was left of a child."

"Oh, my God," Catherine murmured softly.

The tears began to stream down his face. "It was a little girl, Catherine. She looked to be Katie's age. She had long blond hair." The words were tumbling out along with the sobs. "Catherine, her little body was torn and twisted so badly you could hardly tell she was human. Her eyes were open and — and...."

Catherine pulled him into her arms and cried with him for a child she never knew. His pain was her pain and they held each other as it washed over them.

Several minutes passed before anyone spoke. Finally, Vincent looked up at Catherine and they wiped away each other's tears. "That image tortures me, Catherine. I cannot escape it. It cried out to me for vengeance."

Catherine had a feeling there was more to the story and that she wasn't going to like it. "You didn't go in search of more damage, did you? You, Devin, and Charlie went after the ones responsible."

"Yes."

"You lied to me."

"I — am, sorry but I didn't want to upset you in your condition. I didn't want to argue with Father. The men who did this knew of our world. They were using the tunnels to concoct their bombs. They could not be allowed to continue!"

Even though she already knew the answer, she had to ask. "What happened?" Vincent looked into her eyes. In his eyes, she saw the answer. "Oh, Vincent."

"What I find most disturbing, Catherine, is that I reveled in avenging that child. I have never felt that before. Also, Charlie saw what happened and that shamed me even more. The look of fear and — disgust in his eyes cut me deeply. I don't know if our relationship will ever be the same. I don't know that I can face him again."

"You can and you will, Vincent. Give Charlie some time. You two have forged a strong friendship. It will survive."

Vincent slowly shook his head. "I wish I could believe that and I wish I could erase that horrible image from my mind."

"Time will dim it. Just remember that I love you and that we are in this together. Don't be afraid to share your pain with me." Catherine leaned over and nuzzled his ear. She felt the soft strands of his hair against her cheek as she whispered, "As Blake wrote:

"Love to faults is always blind,

Always is to joy inclin'd,

Lawless, wing'd & unconfin'd,

And breaks all chains from every mind."

"Do you have a Blake poem for everything?"

"Almost."

Vincent turned and gave her a warm, lingering kiss. "I love you," he whispered into her open mouth.

"I love you too, sweetheart. Please don't worry about Charlie. Everything's going to be all right."

"You can make me believe almost anything," he responded.

"Then believe in me when I tell you how wonderful you are, how good a father you are, and how much Charlie respects and admires you."

Vincent looked deeply into her green eyes and felt her conviction. Love had a way of blinding people to the truth, he thought.

Catherine reached over and lifted his chin with one finger. "First thing in the morning, find Charlie and talk this out. The longer you two brood about it, the bigger the obstacle becomes. Talk to him."

"I'm not so sure he wants to talk to me."

"All the more reason not to delay. Promise me — tomorrow."

"All right. I promise."

All that night, Vincent thought about what to say to Charlie. How could he make him understand when he didn't understand it himself?

Those thoughts were on his mind as he drifted into a troubled sleep. There in the darkness, the image appeared but this time, the dread of it was gone. This time, the child seemed at peace. Gone was the demand for vengeance. There was only a sense of a soul finally finding its rest. At that moment, Vincent realized that although the senseless tragedy of it would live with him forever, he could now make peace with himself.

Charlie was in his chamber preparing to go back Above when Vincent called to him from just beyond the entrance. "May I come in, Charlie'?"

"Sure. Come in."

Vincent timidly walked in. Every speech he had rehearsed along the way left him. He stared down at his feet while he gathered his courage.

"How's Catherine?" Charlie finally asked.

"Oh — she's all right."

"Does she know what happened?"

"I told her everything. Catherine has been with me when I've — lost myself. She has seen the worst in me — yet still loves me. Like you, I wonder why."

"Love is blind they say."

Vincent finally found the courage to look into Charlie's eyes. "Is friendship?"

"To some things, I guess," Charlie answered.

"I don't know what to say to you, Charlie. I wish I had some explanation that would make what you saw easier to accept."

"I don't think there is one."

"All right, just tell me what you're thinking."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Vincent was determined. "If we are to mend this breach, we must be totally honest with each other. We always were in the past."

Charlie paced around silently debating the issue. "Total honesty'?"

"Yes."

"Okay — honesty. I had this image of you as a gentle, intelligent man who loves my sister and their kids. Yeah, you looked a little different but I could handle that. After all, Cathy loves you and your appearance doesn't seem to bother her. So I got used to it. After a while, the way you are became — just the way you are. I didn't give it a lot of thought. I got to know you. But what I saw in that cavern was something...."

"Inhuman?"

"Yeah. What did I see?"

Vincent shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot. "I'm not sure I can answer that. All I know is that when someone I love is threatened some — force deep inside of me takes over. It's a darkness that devours the man in me and I can't stop it. When it's over, I look at the carnage and feel a deep sense of shame and guilt. Charlie, I hate that part of me but it has saved Catherine so many times."

Charlie stared at him intently.

"Nothing I can say will take away the image of what you saw. Certain images — haunt you no matter what you do. Just know that I value our friendship and hope we can regain some of what has been lost."

"Vincent, there is a rage in all of us. Yours is just more primal than most. You talk about carnage. You should have been at the hospital that day. That day, I wanted to rip somebody's head off for the senselessness of it all — the waste of humanity." Charlie's fists clenched in anger.

"I was shocked, yes. It took me a while to come to terms with it. I'm still doing that. But Vincent, I believe you are the kind, decent man I've gotten to know over the last few months. Give me — us some time to heal. This tragedy has affected us all. All of this, along with losing Cassie, really shook me."

Vincent nodded in understanding.

"I'm sorry about my reaction. I just wasn't prepared. If I hurt you, I am truly sorry."

"It is I who should apologize."

"No," Charlie argued. "I was the one acting like a jerk. You didn't deserve that." He extended his hand. "Friends?"

"Friends," Vincent replied as he grasped the offered hand.

Several days later, the community gathered around a huge bonfire. They had joined together in memory of the lives that had been so senselessly lost in the world Above. Their world was separate yet bound by the shared loss.

Over to one side stood three very different men and a woman. Catherine stood with her arm linked with her husband's for support. To the other side of her was Charlie. His youthful face etched in sadness. Devin stood on the other side of his brother. His dark eyes full of tears. The image of the little girl he carried to the hospital was painfully fresh in his mind. And then there was Vincent standing stoically silent. He held Catherine's hand tenderly. His face was an emotionless mask. His eyes, however, mirrored the pain of the image that still haunted him. He knew that in time the image would dull and the pain would ease but the feelings of loss would remain.

They had all been changed by that day's tragic events. A little piece of them had died with the two hundred and twenty-one lives that had been cut short. Also lost, was their belief that such things didn't happen in this country. It was an innocence of sorts that had been cruelly lost in a mass of twisted debris. They stood together, unified in their grief and their hope that this would not happen again. Deep inside, however, were the doubts. No, life would not be the same.

4 - ETERNITY IN AN HOUR

The nightmares were back with a vengeance. They tortured Vincent's dreams and haunted his waking hours with a gnawing dread. He was afraid to go to sleep at night because he knew the images would return along with the voices. His restlessness was affecting Catherine and the children and it was driving him mad.

As he stared into the night sky from his vantage point atop Catherine's apartment building, he fought to put it all into some kind of perspective. The nightmares had returned shortly after Winterfest. The normally festive holiday occasion was the scene of a near tragedy. Just thinking of it now sent a shudder of fear through him. Since that night, life had not been the same for his family and he was beginning to wonder if it would ever be again.

The night had begun happily enough. The children were playful and excited and he was barely able to contain their childish glee. The best news of all had been that Catherine was feeling well enough to attend even though Father had insisted she be carried to and from the Great Hall. "No problem!" He would have carried her down Broadway if she had asked.

He remembered walking into their chamber and having his breath taken away by his wife's loveliness. She looked so feminine and vulnerable in her very pregnant state. The soft lines of her gown accentuated the swell of her stomach and he felt an uncontrollable urge to touch that slight protrusion and feel the life inside. He did just that. After gently stroking her stomach, he reached up to caress her cheek.

"To see a World in a Grain of Sand

And heaven in a Wild Flower,

Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand

And Eternity in an hour."

She smiled as she caressed the hand still stroking her cheek. "You've been reading my book again haven't you?"

"I need something to do with my hands," he laughed.

"Soon — I'll give you plenty to do with those lovely hands," she responded as she very slowly and erotically kissed his palm.

Watching and feeling her lips as they lingered against his palm reawakened long dormant desires. Desires, he quickly suppressed.

"Where are the children?" she asked.

"Mary, with help from Mouse, will take them down to the Great Hall."

"Are you sure you can carry me all that distance?" She patted her stomach gently. "I'm not as light as I used to be."

In response, Vincent swept her up in his arms and spun around slowly. "Light as a feather."

Catherine looked at him thoughtfully. "I never realized you were such an accomplished liar."

"I do not lie, Catherine. I might bend the truth a little but I cannot lie to you."

He remembered how painstakingly careful he was as they made their way to the Great Hall. He remembered the smiles they were greeted with along the way. He knew the smiles were masking the community's concerns for Catherine. Their love and acceptance of her meant more to him than he could ever say.

The evening began as they had hoped. The candle lighting ceremony, the delicious food, the music and dancing, the atmosphere of gaiety that enveloped everyone was exactly what they both needed. Charlie was even there, being the ever-watchful big brother and playing uncle to Jake and Katie. It was his first Winterfest and his presence added to Catherine's enjoyment of the evening. And, although she could not dance with Vincent, Catherine watched with a joyful tear in her eye as Vincent and Katie danced about the Hall. After the dance with Katie, he walked back over to Catherine. Katie wiggled her way to the floor and immediately ran over to join several of the younger children playing in the corner.

"That was beautiful, Vincent."

When she turned to him and smiled, he could see the weariness in her eyes. "Catherine, I think we should call it an evening. You promised Father you wouldn't overdo it."

"Don't be silly. I'm fine."

"Catherine...."

She placed her hand on his arm. "Really, I'm fine."

Against his better judgment, he gave in. "All right, we'll stay a little longer."

A few minutes later, she asked him to get her a drink. As he turned to walk back to her, he noticed she was standing. Everything that happened after that seemed to move in slow motion. She looked at him and he could literally see the color drain from her face. Beads of perspiration quickly popped out on her forehead and at the base of her neck. She swayed unsteadily and Vincent dropped the glass and ran toward her. He got there in time to catch her as she doubled over in pain.

Vincent!" she screamed as loudly as she could.

He cradled her in his arms. "Catherine — what is it? What's wrong?"

She was gasping for breath between moans of pain. "Something's — wrong — I...."

"Father! Charlie!" Vincent shouted loudly enough to silence the crowd's festivities.

Vincent vaguely remembered that Charlie got there first, then Father and Mary. What they did, he didn't recall, all he knew was that Catherine was in pain and he was frightened beyond words. He remembered the fear in his children's eyes as they watched their mother slip into unconsciousness.

"We have to get her to the hospital chamber now!" Father ordered.

As gently as he could, Vincent gathered her limp body into his arms and began moving quickly. At the door, he hesitated. "The children...."

Several of the adults gathered around the children in response to Vincent's obvious concern. "We'll take care of them, Vincent — GO!" Kanin replied.

The children's fear gripped his heart but he had to concentrate on Catherine. She needed him more.

His legs couldn't carry him fast enough. His arms ached, his heart pounded, and his lungs struggled to keep pace. And even though a crowd followed him, Vincent was only aware of the ebb of life that flowed through Catherine and the pounding of his own blood as it raced through his body.

She was bleeding — he could feel the warm dampness as it soaked into the front of his vest and shirt. It was on the arm that supported her legs.  Stop — please stop, he pleaded silently as he strained to move even faster. Don't leave me, Catherine. Please!

He wasn't aware of how long it took to get to the chamber, but he did remember that he had to wait for Charlie and the others to catch up. In those agonizing few moments, he carefully placed Catherine on the surgical table and tenderly stroked her pale cheek. "Where are you?" he cried out as he paced back and forth from the table to the curtain opening that surrounded the small area.

Charlie arrived first panting for breath as he ran past Vincent and began to examine Catherine. Father and the others arrived soon thereafter. The older physician's face was ashen and he looked in need of medical treatment himself. The flow of medical jargon began as the two doctors worked at a feverish pace. Mary quickly and quietly responded to the commands with movements that seemed to anticipate their needs. Vincent never felt so helpless in all his life.

Each second that ticked by seemed an hour long, each hour an eternity. The words of the poem came back to him. "Eternity in an hour." He paced, he listened, he tried to wipe the blood from his clothes, and he prayed. He prayed like he never had before and realized, in one crystal-clear moment, the utter despair and emptiness that losing Catherine would bring and he knew he could not bear it.

Charlie's actions were frantic yet professional but Vincent could feel his fear. Whatever was happening was serious and Catherine's brother was afraid he was losing his sister. The battle became an intense one.

"Vincent — you might want to leave," Father suggested.

"No," he responded, his voice breaking with emotion.

Mary began pulling up Catherine's dress.

"We've got to examine her. You might not want to see this," Father explained.

"No — I will stay. You do what you must."

"Her blood pressure is dropping," Charlie reported.

Father turned his attention back to his patient. "We've got to stop the bleeding!"

"She needs surgery. Damn it — she needs to be in a hospital!"

Father's face turned crimson. "I agree with you but we know that is not possible."

"What is possible — is her death!" Charlie argued.

"There is no time, Charlie. Even if the circumstances allowed for that — we simply don't have time. She would bleed to death before we could get her Above."

"STOP IT! If you two don't stop arguing she will bleed to death. We have to do the best we can now!" Mary's curt statement got the attention of both doctors.

"Cut away her undergarments and prepare her for surgery," Father ordered.

"What about her blood pressure?" Charlie asked. "She's lost a lot of blood. She needs a transfusion. How do you do that down here?"

"Mary, we did blood types on everyone. Cross-match Catherine's"

"I'll do that." The voice belonged to Jamie. "Tell us what else we can do."

Father smiled at her. "Get Rebecca. She's helped in surgery before. As soon as you get a match with Catherine, bring the donor here. Mary will handle the collection."

As soon as Jamie left the area, Charlie looked over at Father. "A transfusion in these conditions? We don't have time to cross match. What about contamination? What about viruses for God's sake?"

"We know our people and they know the importance of honesty in matters of life and death. No one here would jeopardize another in such a way. Charlie, we must prepare. We don't have time to argue."

"But...."

"I have removed bullets from Vincent in this chamber. I stitched up Catherine's face in this chamber. It is not the best of conditions but it's all we have."

Vincent was getting a little annoyed and terribly worried as the two doctors argued. "What are you going to do?"

Both Father and Charlie turned to Vincent. Father took a deep breath and spoke in his most professional manner. "We've got to stop the hemorrhaging. It may mean that we have to terminate the pregnancy."

Knowing Catherine's feelings about this baby, that statement was a little hard to swallow. "The baby?"

"Vincent — the pregnancy is not far enough along for the baby to survive."

The statement was not meant to hurt but it did — deeply. "Do what you must to save Catherine."

Father nodded solemnly. "We'll do our best. Wait outside — please!"

Charlie stepped up and put his arm around Vincent's shoulder. "We can work better and faster without worrying about you. Please — let us do our job."

Reluctantly, Vincent agreed. He walked over to Catherine, leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Don't leave me," he pleaded. "I love you."

The next few hours were a blur. Members of the community came by, sat with him for a while, then left. Pascal and Jamie turned out to be the blood donors and they gave willingly. All Vincent could do was wait and that was the hardest thing he had ever done.

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, Father walked out and sat down beside Vincent. "How is she" he asked anxiously.

"She's holding her own. The transfusion helped. Her blood pressure is stable."

"What about — the baby? Did you have to....?”

"No, we didn't. The placenta tore away from the lining slightly but did not compromise the fetus. But — the situation is still very dangerous, Vincent, understand that. The only way to give the baby a fighting chance is to give it time to develop and grow stronger. It cannot survive outside of Catherine's womb for several more weeks."

"What do we do?"

"She will be restricted to complete bed rest. She must not exert herself in any way. She can only get out of bed when I say she can. She must have quiet. She must have peace."

"We will do whatever it takes."

"Vincent — you must understand. It's not just the baby's life we're concerned about — it's Catherine's as well. If she hemorrhages again and we can't stop it — she will die. This is a very risky pregnancy for mother and child. I can't stress that enough."

"I understand. May I see her now?"

"Yes. Charlie is with her. We want someone with her night and day."

"I will be."

"Vincent — remember to accept help when it is offered as freely as you give it. You can't do this alone. Your friends and family will not let you."

Vincent stood and gently laid his hand on Father's shoulder. "I sometimes forget just how much Catherine is loved in our world. Thank you for reminding me."

Father patted his son's hand then breathed a deep sigh of relief as he walked away. For now, the battle had been won but the outcome of the war was yet to be determined.

As Vincent walked through the hospital chamber, he saw Pascal and Jamie sitting on cots quietly talking. He stopped. With tears in his eyes, he fought to find the words. "How can I — thank you?"

Pascal stood up. "You don't have to. We — love you and Catherine. This is only a small thing, friend."

Vincent hugged his life-long friend. The gesture embarrassed Pascal slightly but he returned the embrace.

"Catherine — is special to all of us, Vincent," Jamie added. "She would do — has done — as much for us."

He pulled her into his arms. "Thank you. Thank both of you."

After saying goodnight to his friends, Vincent opened the curtain surrounding the surgery area. He saw Mary cleaning up and gathering the bloody supplies as Charlie sat by Catherine's bedside holding her hand and staring at her pale, sleeping face.

"How is she?" Vincent whispered to Charlie.

"She's a fighter — I'll give her that. I thought ...." Charlie bit his lip. He just couldn't speak the words.

"There are no words...." Vincent was struggling with his thoughts. ".... to thank you for..."

"She's my sister, Vincent. I would give my life for her."

Vincent reached over and gently squeezed Charlie's shoulder. "She loves you too. I'll stay with her tonight. You and Father need to rest."

"I don't think I can leave her."

"You've done all you can. Now — she needs me and the strength I can give her through our bond. I would appreciate it if you would talk to Jacob and Mary Catherine and help them understand what has happened. I know they are very frightened. They need their Uncle Charlie."

"All right — you win. I'll go check on the kids before I turn in. If her condition changes in the slightest ...."

"I will send for you, I promise."

Charlie studied Vincent's face for a moment then sighed. After placing Catherine's hand gently by her side, he stood up and looked at her face for a long time as if memorizing it. "You hang in there, sis," he whispered just before he leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead. He then used his finger to push a strand of hair back in place.

Vincent watched the tender moment with a deep ache in his heart.

"I'll check with you later, Vincent. Watch over her."

"Always."

After Charlie left, Vincent leaned over Catherine and studied the lines of her face carefully. He noticed her pale skin and the dark circles under her eyes. There was an eerie peaceful expression on her face that caused Vincent to forcefully search their bond for her presence. He held his breath until he caught hold of that trembling, pulsing essence he knew to be Catherine. He released that breath slowly. She was still with him.

He sat for hours simply watching and waiting until he could no longer fight the weariness. He wasn't aware that he had fallen asleep until he felt himself falling forward. His whole body jerked in response and he grabbed the table at the head of the bed knocking over a glass in the process. When he righted himself, he looked over at Catherine and found that she had turned her head in his direction and was staring at him as if the noise had startled her.

"Catherine?"

She managed a weak smile. "Hi," she responded in a very strained voice.

He leaned over her and took her hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Awful. What — happened? Is the baby....?”

"The baby's all right and you will be too. You need to rest."

"Tell me — what happened," she insisted.

"Father said the placenta separated a little. He said you would have to stay in bed until the baby comes." He didn't want to frighten her but he knew keeping the truth from her would frighten her even more.

She reached up and gently stroked her stomach. "Whatever it takes — I'll do."

"I know." He leaned down and rested his forehead against her shoulder. "Catherine — I almost lost you. I've never been so frightened in my life." He couldn't stop the confession or the tears that followed.

Her hands gently began stroking his hair. "It's all right, Vincent. We'll get through this. You'll see. Everything's going to be fine."

Her words did little to reassure him that night. Only her slow but steady improvement eased his fears. When Father and Charlie returned to check on their patient the next morning, she was awake and fully aware. As soon as Charlie saw her, he flashed a beaming smile.

"Morning sis! I'm glad you're back with us." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "How do you feel? Any complaints?"

"None that anyone can do anything about. Sorry I put a damper on the party."

"There's always next year," he responded in a cheerful tone.

Father was discreetly checking Catherine's vital signs. "Have you had any pain or bleeding since last night?" he finally asked.

Catherine shook her head. "I'm sore and I'm tired — that's all."

"Good. We're going to keep you in here for a day or two then we can move you back to your chamber."

"Can't I go there now?"

"We'd rather you stay here where we can keep a close watch on you," Father explained.

Charlie patted her arm. "I agree, Cathy. From now on, you've got to be watched twenty-four hours a day. You've got to stay in bed and you're going to have to put up with a lot of poking and prying from us."

Her expression changed to one of concern. "Is it that bad, Charlie?"

"Yes, Cathy — it is that bad."

Catherine closed her eyes a minute, fighting to find the resolve to go on. Once found, she resigned herself to the difficulties that lay ahead.

"Cathy," Charlie said softly as he squeezed her hand. "The longer we can keep that little fellow inside of you, the better chance he has. We've got to take it one day at a time."

In response, Catherine squeezed his hand firmly. "You have to promise me that you won’t take the baby."

Charlie glanced over at Father and Vincent then back at Catherine. "We won't unless there's no other way. We want this baby to survive Cathy, but we won’t sacrifice you."

"I don't matter," she replied.

"Catherine!" Vincent's shocked voice startled all of them.

"Cathy, listen to me. We will not rush to judgment on this. We're talking last resort. I just want you to be prepared because we'll probably have to do a Caesarian and we want you and the baby to be as strong as possible. You are not to worry — no stress, no exertion. I don't want you lifting your little finger unless there's someone there to help you. Understand? Am I right, Father?"

The older man smiled. "I couldn't have said it better myself. It's up to you, young lady."

"I know when I'm outnumbered. If I have to lie around and be a living incubator, I will. It's worth it."

Vincent remembered her words and the doubt he felt. Nothing was worth Catherine's life. They had two healthy children. He could survive the loss of the third but he could not survive the loss of Catherine. He made a vow to himself, at that moment, that if a choice had to be made, he would make it. Even if Catherine could never forgive him, at least she would be alive to hate him. And that option, although a dismal one, was better than the prospect of living without her.

* * * * * *

A cold breeze ruffled his hair and sent a chill through his body as he remembered the strain and worry of those first few days of Catherine's incapacitation. She was completely bedridden now. The only activity allowed her was the occasional trip to the bathroom and a bath in the warm springs.

For the most part, she was handling it fairly well. He could tell she was bored even though she read a great deal of the time. He could see her frustration in having the children around and not being able to play with them as she always had. He could feel her anxiety. But she never complained. Whenever things got to be a little too much, she would simply stroke her stomach and talk to the baby within. It was easy to see that it was as much for her as it was for the baby.

The physical changes in her alarmed him at times. Despite the puffiness, there was an underlying gauntness that was most evident around her eyes. The once well-toned body now looked so fragile and weak that Vincent had not slept, in the same bed with her since Winterfest for fear of hurting her in his sleep. That made him think about the dreams again. It was a never-ending circle, it seemed. That was why he needed to come to this special place tonight. He needed to experience the city again, to feel the excitement of possibilities as he had when he and Catherine had first begun their journey.

* * * * * *

Joe Maxwell was sitting in his office trying to cope with the huge stack of files on his desk. The case that annoyed him the most was the Thanksgiving Day bombing. The few leads they had managed to unearth had quickly dissolved into nothing. The trail was as cold as it gets. He closed the file angrily. The department had taken a lot of heat over this one. "Damn," he swore. At times like this, he missed Cathy the most. This will be here in the morning, he finally decided. Before he could grab his coat, however, the phone rang. After debating a moment or two as to whether he should answer it or not, he decided he had better. It could be about Cathy. "Yeah — hello."

"Joe?"

"Yeah. Who's this?"

"It's Jenny."

"Oh — yeah. How are you? Have you heard from Cathy?" He heard a troubled sigh.

"I get letters from her occasionally but I haven't seen her. I just wish I knew what was going on. I've had these disturbing dreams about her lately."

Her voice betrayed her concern. "I know. I get letters too but they really don't say a lot."

"I really miss her — you know?"

"Yeah. I know."

"I'm sorry I bothered you, Joe."

"You didn't," Joe responded.

"I just needed to talk to someone about Cathy."

"Jenny...."

"Yes."

Joe wasn't sure why but he was feeling the same way. "You think — maybe — I mean — if you aren't busy tonight...."

"Uh — no, I don't have any plans."

"It's just.... I think we both need someone to talk to. Why don't we meet for dinner?" There was an excruciatingly long moment of silence.

"All right. I don't see why not. Yeah."

Despite his mood of moments ago, Joe was suddenly smiling. "Great. I know this little Italian place about a block from here." After giving her the name and address of the restaurant, Joe finally said good-bye. As he hung up, he was beginning to feel like maybe a New York Deputy District Attorney could have a personal life after all.

* * * * * *

About a half hour later, he was sitting in that little restaurant at a booth that gave him a clear view of the door. Surprisingly, he was beginning to feel a little nervous. That — he didn't understand. He had known Jenny for about six years now but he had only thought of her as Cathy's friend. For some reason, tonight was different. Finally, he saw her walk into the restaurant.

He sat there looking at her, not as Cathy's friend, but as the attractive woman she was. She was dressed in a dark business suit with a short skirt that accentuated her long, slender legs. Her hair was neat and short but very soft and feminine looking. Joe even found himself staring with interest at the way the suit hugged her body. When the waiter pointed him out, she turned to him and smiled then walked over to the table. Awkwardly, he jumped to his feet.

"Hello, Joe. I'm not late am I?" she asked.

For the first time, Joe noticed just how warm and soft her brown eyes appeared to be. He also noticed her smile. "No," he stammered. "Please — sit down."

After seating her, Joe sat down across from her and suddenly couldn't think of a thing to say. All he wanted to do was look into those brown eyes.

"Joe?"

"Uh — I'm sorry. I was thinking about something." He smiled nervously. "I haven't seen you in a while. I guess the publishing business keeps you busy."

"I suppose that's why I like it. What about you?"

"The same, I guess. It doesn't leave me much time for a personal life though."

"I remember Cathy saying the same thing."

The mention of Cathy's name evoked strong emotions in both of them and they were soon deep in conversation about their mutual friend. So much so, they were completely unaware that two and half hours had passed.

Jenny finally glanced at her watch. "Oh my — it's late. I'd better be going. I've got an early morning meeting."

"I didn't realize it was so late. I've got a deposition to take in the morning," Joe added. After paying for dinner, Joe walked Jenny out and began looking for a taxi.

"Thanks for dinner. I really enjoyed the company," Jenny commented as they stood on the sidewalk.

"You're welcome. I enjoyed it too. Maybe we could do it again — soon?" Joe nervously awaited her answer. He felt a little more at ease when she smiled at him.

"I'd like that."

She opened her purse and took out a business card. "Call me."

Joe took the card and looked at the numbers. "I will," he responded.

Their eyes met and suddenly both of them became aware of that gentle stirring called attraction. It surprised them.

"I definitely will," Joe added with his most charming smile.

Jenny smiled back at him. "I really have to go."

"Oh — yeah, the taxi."

He finally managed to tear his eyes away from those liquid brown orbs staring back at him and began looking for a taxi. After flagging one down, he helped her into it then reluctantly said goodnight. As the taxi pulled away, he began to whistle. He shook his head and chuckled. I wonder what Radcliffe would say about this? Shoving his hands into his pockets, he started for home.

* * * * * *

Vincent walked through the now deserted common passageways of the tunnel community on the way to his chamber. At this time of night, he knew he would encounter no one. The citizens of this secret world were sleeping soundly. He wished he could.

As he neared his family's chambers, he decided to check on the children. He found Katie sleeping peacefully in her small bed, her stuffed lion cub held tightly in her tiny arms. She was his little angel. He tucked the covers around her then gently kissed the top of her head.

Moving on to Jacob's adjoining chamber, Vincent discovered that a very restless little boy had kicked away his covers. He moved in quietly and placed the covers back over the sleeping child. Studying him carefully, he noticed just how much he had grown. Soon, he knew his son would begin to venture into his mother's world. He felt both a sense of loss and a touch of envy at that thought. His son would experience what he could not — a normal life Above.

Vincent then returned to the chamber he and Catherine shared. Entering as quietly as he could, he walked over to the bed to check on her. She seemed well and was sleeping. At least, that's what he thought. Without warning, she suddenly opened her eyes and looked at him. "Vincent?"

"I'm here. Go back to sleep."

"How was your trip Above?"

"Invigorating — but I'm glad to be home. How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good, actually." She blinked her eyes a few times then focused them on his face. Her look was one of intense study. "You look almost as bad as I do. Haven't you been sleeping?"

"Don't worry about me, Catherine. I'll be all right."

"You can't be getting much rest sleeping on the floor. Why don't you try to lie down with me?"

He cradled her hand in his. "You know why. We can't take any chances. I can be a very -- restless sleeper."

"But, Vincent...."

"Ssh, no arguments. You need to rest."

She squeezed his hand. "Vincent — everything will be all right. Believe it."

With great gentleness, he pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed it. "I do."

"Will you rub my back?" she asked.

"It would be my pleasure."

She rolled over to give him access to her back then snuggled into her pillow. After only a few minutes of his gentle stroking, her slow, steady breathing assured him she had fallen back to sleep. He watched her for a few minutes then tucked her in as he had done their children. Then, with a troubled sigh, he rose and walked over to the bedding lying on the floor against the other wall. He needed the rest, but he dreaded the dreams that haunted him. After making himself as comfortable as possible, he watched Catherine until his eyelids grew too heavy to hold open.

* * * * * *

He walked through the darkness toward a strange light. As he neared, the darkness faded slightly into a dim, mist-filled shade of gray. Then he heard the heart-wrenching screams that he quickly realized were Catherine's. As fast as he could, he moved toward the light. A gauze-like curtain obscured his view but he could see the silhouettes. A man was standing over Catherine as she lay on a table. She was holding her stomach, screaming and writhing in pain. The man was doing nothing to help her. Filled with rage, Vincent reached up and tore away the curtain separating him from Catherine. He gasped in horror at the sight. Catherine's struggled had ended. She lay deathly still, her face pale and her eyes open. Her body was soaked in blood. A laugh that sounded as if it came from the depths of hell chilled Vincent to the bone. He knew that laugh. Everything moved in slow motion as he looked up. What he saw terrified him. He could not speak, he could not breathe, and he could not scream. He was frozen by terror and a revulsion so vile it made his stomach lurch violently. There, over Catherine's lifeless body, stood Paracelsus.

Rage filled Vincent. The other in him took control and that made Paracelsus laugh even harder. Just as he was about to lunge at him, Paracelsus held up a bloody, screaming infant. To Vincent's horror, the child was like him. He then realized that the child was his and Catherine's and that Paracelsus had killed her to get it.

"NO!" he screamed.

Paracelsus' laughter suddenly stopped. "He is mine! He was born as you were, Vincent. He was born in blood. He will claim his rightful destiny as you never did. I did not kill your precious Catherine — your son did. He ripped his way out of her as you did your mother. Look at her! Look at her!"

Vincent forced himself to look at Catherine's limp form. Her lifeless eyes stared back at him as if they were asking why had he allowed this to happen.

"Your seed, Vincent. Your true seed. This is the price she paid to bear it. You did this to her. Your true animal nature finally killed her."

Pain and grief welled up inside and threatened to choke the life from him. He fell to his knees and screamed "NO!" The laughter began again and Vincent felt something explode in his chest. The darkness enveloped him once again.

* * * * * *

Vincent's eyes opened suddenly. His heart was pounding, he was covered in perspiration, and he was gasping for breath. It took him a few minutes to realize it had all been just another horrible dream.

Afraid to close his eyes again, Vincent sat up and leaned against the wall to wait for the others to wake up. He didn't have long to wait. Katie tiptoed into the chamber still dressed in her gown and rubbing her eyes. A lump formed in his throat as he watched her walk over to the bed and tug on her mother's arm.

"Mommy?"

Catherine's head turned in her direction. "Katie?"

"I'm cold, Mommy."

Awkwardly, Catherine rolled over onto her back then slid over to accommodate the small child. She lifted the covers while the little girl crawled in beside her. "I'll keep you warm, honey?

Katie snuggled into Catherine's arms as her mother kissed the top of her head. A single tear rolled down Vincent's cheek.

After settling the child in, Catherine looked over at him. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Vincent — are you all right?"

"Yes. Get some rest, Catherine."

"Did you have another nightmare?"

The concern was evident in her voice. Lying to her was useless. "Yes."

"Come over here."

Vincent shook his head slowly. "I just want to watch the two of you. I'll be fine."

"I love you," she responded.

"I know and I love you."

They looked deeply into each others eyes and allowed their feelings to flow freely through their bond. Vincent could feel her love and comfort begin to heal the wounds left by the horrible images of his nightmare. Her warmth filled him.

An hour or so later, Katie began to ask for breakfast and Catherine was wide awake. Jacob, however, was nowhere in sight.

"Vincent, why don't you take Katie and get her dressed for breakfast. Apparently, Jake is sleeping in. You might want to wake him."

Vincent stood slowly and took a moment to stretch his badly cramped muscles. Their morning routine had begun. He would dress the kids, take them to breakfast and then to the makeshift classroom that all the children attended. He would then see to any community business that required his attention. Later, he would teach a class then join Catherine and the children for the evening meal. Even as he thought about the day's plans, he wondered just how many more sleepless nights he could take. As he had learned before, the end result of the toll taken upon him could be tragic — for everyone.

Entering Jacob's chamber, Vincent was surprised to see his son had already dressed and was gone. Maybe, he was with Catherine, he speculated as he looked about the small chamber.

"Daddy, I'm hungry," Katie announced with a tug on her father's sleeve.

"I know, angel." He lifted her up into his arms. "Let's find your brother and fill that tummy of yours."

The little girl giggled.

* * * * * *

Jacob had not gone to his parents' chamber. Vincent found him already in the dining chamber eating breakfast. Vincent and Katie sat down beside him.

"Son, why didn't you come by and see your mother?"

The little boy merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Jacob, I expect you to answer me when I ask you a question."

"I was hungry," he answered.

The fact that his son would not look at him when he spoke told him something was troubling the boy. Also, he felt a coldness in the child he had never felt before. "Is something wrong, Jacob?"

"No."

The answer was in contradiction to what Vincent was sensing. "Maybe you and I should go down to the falls and talk," he suggested. It was their favorite place for a father and son discussion.

"I have to go to class."

Before Vincent could respond, Katie demanded his attention and the opportunity slipped away.

That evening, a very tired Vincent made his way back to his chamber. When he walked in, he found Katie sitting on the bed with Catherine, her head lying on her mother's stomach. Jacob was across the room playing with his favorite truck.

"Do you hear anything?" he asked the little girl as he walked over and kissed Catherine.

"I think it wants to come out."

"Really?" Vincent asked.

Catherine laughed. "I'd really like for it to come out too but we can't hurry it. When it's ready, it will be born."

Katie sat up and looked at her mother. "After that, will you be okay again?"

Vincent noticed that Jacob stopped playing and was listening intently.

"After a few weeks, I'll be back to normal."

"You promise?"

"Yes — I promise."

Again, Vincent looked over at Jacob. He was sitting there staring at Catherine with the oddest expression on his face and his emotions.... He actually felt anger from the boy.

"Jake, why don't you come over here and feel the baby? It's moving around a lot," his mother suggested.

The anger grew more intense as the boy picked up his truck and started for the chamber entrance.

"Jake?" Catherine called to him.

"I'm tired. I'm going to bed."

"Jacob!" Vincent placed his hand on the boy's shoulder and turned him gently toward him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." The boy pulled away from his father.

"Jacob!" Vincent was angry and confused by his son's rude behavior toward his mother. "You will say goodnight to your mother and sister in a proper manner."

Vincent could feel Catherine's confusion and sense of hurt. She and Jacob had always been close. He had always been protective and affectionate toward her. Tonight — he just didn't understand his son.

"No!" the boy responded adamantly then ran from the chamber.

After a quick look at Catherine's tear-filled eyes, Vincent went in pursuit of his son. It only took him a minute to catch him. "Jacob, how could you treat your mother so badly? Your behavior back there was rude and hurtful and it will not be tolerated. Your mother is not well. She doesn't need this. Tell me what is troubling you." The little boy wouldn't even look at him but Vincent could feel the turbulent emotions within him. Something was frightening him and he was reacting with anger. "Tell me, son."

"It's nothing," he finally answered.

Jacob was a lot like his father. He wasn't going to talk about it until he was ready and no amount of prompting would move him. Of that, Vincent was certain. "All right, son. Go to your chamber and get a good night's sleep. Maybe in the morning your attitude will be improved."

The boy turned to go.

"Jacob, I want you to think about something. Your mother loves you very much and your behavior tonight hurt her deeply. She didn't deserve your rudeness. I will talk to you about this in the morning."

"Yes, sir," Jacob replied then turned and ran to his chamber.

This turnabout in his son's behavior, his own fears about Catherine, the dreams, and the sleeplessness were wearing Vincent down fast. It almost made him long for the days when he and Catherine's love was chaste and a romantic evening was defined as a visit to her balcony.

* * * * * *

When Charlie entered his sister's chamber, she was sitting up in bed and she and Vincent were involved in a seemingly serious conversation. "Excuse me," he apologized. "I'll come back later."

Vincent stood. "No. Don't go. Maybe you can help."

"Sure — if I can."

Vincent's description of Jacob's behavior stunned Charlie. The child had always been very openly affectionate to his mother. He would even describe the boy as one who adored his mother. "That's really odd. But you know, we haven't given much thought as to how all this is affecting the children. I have an idea. Since he seems reluctant to talk to you, why don't you let me take him Above for an outing. Maybe I can get him to open up to someone who's not so close to the problem."

Catherine sighed and rubbed her stomach. "He won't even hug me. It's almost as if he were angry at me for something."

Vincent took Catherine's hand in his. He could feel how upset she was. "Maybe Charlie's idea will help. He doesn't seem to want to talk to us."

"Maybe — maybe, it will," Catherine agreed.

* * * * * *

Charlie and Jacob's outing began with a trip to Coney Island. Later, they picked up a pizza then headed for Charlie's apartment. As they wolfed down the food, Charlie decided to try to get the boy to reveal what was troubling him.

"Jake — are you mad at your mom'?" The boy's expression changed dramatically. "Did she do something? I know how moms can be sometimes."

"No — she didn't do anything."

"Then, what is it? Why are you so angry?" Charlie could almost see the anger rising in Jake. "Maybe I can help."

"You can't help! Nobody can. She's gonna die. That baby is going to kill her!"

Charlie sat back, stunned at Jacob's sudden outburst. "Why do you think that, Jake?" he asked as calmly as he could. He watched the anger in Jake's face change to fear.

"I had a dream." His body began to tremble. "The baby — killed Mommy. It cut its way out. She died! I hate it. It's going to take Mommy away from me."

Charlie began to understand the child's anger. It wasn't directed at Catherine but at the baby. "Is that why you don't want to get near your mother? Are you so afraid of losing her that you're trying to push her away? You think it will hurt less?"

Tears began to roll down Jake's cheeks and his body shook with sobs. "I don't want Mommy to die. I hate the baby."

The child's confession reminded him of something he had experienced a few years ago. He had gone through the same thing when his own mother had died. Once he realized the anger was at the disease instead of his mother, their last few months together had been spent making peace with each other and themselves.

He got up, walked over to Jacob then sat down and eased the boy into his lap. He held him until the trembling stopped. "It's okay, Jake. It's okay to be scared of something you don't understand but you can’t go on hurting your mom. She thinks you're mad at her and when you love somebody like she loves you, that hurts."

"Jake, look at me." When the boy raised his head and looked at him, Charlie continued. "I know you. I know how much you love your mom. I also know that you're pulling away so that if you do lose her, it won’t hurt so much. I'm telling you — it doesn't work. All you accomplish is spending the rest of your life regretting that you didn't make the most of the time you had left. Jake, don't do that to yourself or to your mom. She needs you now more than ever."

"I'm scared."

"I know you are. We all are. We all love your mother. If anything happened to her...." Charlie couldn't finish the thought.

"I guess it all comes down to this, Jake. We don't know what's going to happen. Your mom is having a rough time of it and we're doing all we can to help her. It's not her fault and it's not the baby's. There's no one to blame. All we can do is help your mom as best we can. From you, she needs at least one good hug a day."

"Uncle Charlie!"

"You know what I mean. I know this isn't easy for you but you should at least talk to her. Let her know how you feel. Talk to your dad too."

Later, as Charlie prepared to take Jake Below, he wondered if he had gotten through to him. He knew the boy's fears would not be totally eased until the child was born and Catherine was well on the road to recovery. He also knew that if Jake would openly discuss his fears with Catherine, they couldn't put any more distance between mother and son. However they worked it out, it had to be worked out. Cathy didn't need this — not now.

* * * * * *

"Vincent."

"Yes."

"If something happens to me...."

"Catherine, please...."

"No, I have to say this so please hear me out. If something happens to me, Jake will need you the most. Katie deals with things better. Jake will hide his feelings."

Vincent did not want to hear this, especially after the dreams he'd had. "Nothing will happen to you."

"Let's hope so but I need to say this just in case. I love you. You have been the best part of my life. I do not regret one single moment of the time we've been together."

Tears were burning Vincent's eyes as he fought to control his emotions.

"If I have to leave you in this life, I will be waiting for you in the next. I will always be with you and the kids. Vincent, I want you to raise them with all the love and courage that you gave me. Don't shut yourself off from life. Live as I would want you to and — don't be bitter."

Before Vincent could respond, Charlie announced his presence.

"May I come in?"

Vincent choked back the tears and tried to regain his composure. "Come in, Charlie."

Charlie came in and looked at each of them with concern. "If I'm interrupting something, I can come back later."

"No," Catherine answered. "Where's Jake?"

"I left him with Father. I wanted to speak with you first. I think I know what's really bothering Jake."

"What is it?" Vincent asked.

"He's convinced he's going to lose you Cathy, and he's blaming the baby. He's pulling away from you in an effort to make it hurt less."

"My God," Cathy responded. "We've all gotten so caught up in this, we've overlooked how it must be affecting the kids."

"Did he say why he's so convinced?" Vincent was almost sure of the answer but he wanted to hear it.

"Something about a dream."

"He must have shared my dream," Vincent mumbled quietly. It all made sense to him now. The change in Jacob became evident the morning after he'd had the nightmare. The dream had been a frightening experience for him and he could only imagine what effect it must have had on Jacob.

Catherine's concerned voice interrupted his train of thought. "What dream, Vincent?"

He looked at her anxiously. "I dreamed that you died in childbirth because — the child was like me. Catherine, do you remember the story Paracelsus told of my birth?"

Horror became visible in her eyes. "Yes I do, but that was a lie."

"Maybe, but that was the content of the dream. Our child killed you."

Charlie was now totally confused. "What the hell are you two talking about?"

"Catherine, you fill Charlie in. I need to talk to our son."

"Vincent — be careful how you handle this. I don't want either of you letting some nightmare, based on a lie, scare you so badly that it tears us apart."

"I'll send him to you once I've explained that." With that, Vincent left the chamber.

Charlie looked over at Catherine. "Okay, sis, give."

* * * * * *

Vincent had not been gone all that long but, as helpless as Catherine was feeling, every minute seemed like an hour. She wanted to talk to Jake. She wanted to hold him and comfort him as best she could. The sound of small footsteps caught her attention and she looked up. She saw Jacob standing just inside the entrance staring at her with tears streaming down his face.

"I'm sorry, Mom. Don't leave me."

His plaintive plea tore at her heart. Tears gathered in her own eyes as she stretched her arms out to him. "Come here, baby."

The child timidly walked over to the bed and crawled up beside his mother. She enveloped him in her arms as he burrowed his face into her chest. She could feel his body trembling with every sob.

"Please don't leave me."

Catherine held him tightly. "I'm not going anywhere, Jake. I'll always be with you no matter what. Always know that. I love you and I need you to help me through this. Don't ever pull away from me again. I can't stand it. You're my baby." Her own sobs made the words difficult to form.

* * * * * *

The weeks passed quickly. The bond between Jacob and Catherine mended even though Vincent could sense that his son's resentment toward the baby was still simmering below the surface. He kept telling himself that time would heal that too. Meanwhile, Catherine's condition was deteriorating. Her face was pale and her cheeks looked hollow. There were dark circles beneath her eyes and her appetite was sporadic at best. Concern was mounting.

His own fears were threatening his sanity as well. He battled the lingering effects of the continuous nightmares. He struggled to help Jacob deal with their shared dream images and his desperate concern for Catherine left him incapable of fulfilling even his simplest duty. His mind and heart were completely focused on her every breath.

She was sleeping more and more and becoming too weak physically to spend time with Jake and Katie and that depressed her. She was clearly frustrated, often moody, and, at times, distant. Sitting with her hour after hour took all Vincent's strength. His world was falling apart and he was helpless to prevent it. The kids suffered because of their parents' absence, he suffered because he felt hopelessly trapped in a world of pain and fear and words could not describe how Catherine was suffering. Why? he asked himself time after time.

He lowered his head into his hands and fought back the pain. He couldn't let Catherine feel it. She had enough to deal with these days. With one long, deep breath, he managed to get it under control — at least, for the moment.

"Vincent'?"

He lifted his head quickly. "Yes."

"Why don't you go for a walk. I'm sure you need to stretch your legs a little."

"I'm fine. Can I get you anything?"

"No, but I would like you to take a break. Go check on the kids. I worry about them."

"Catherine...."

"Please, Vincent. I feel guilty about taking up all of your time. I'll be all right for a little while — really. If I need anything, I'll ring the bell." She picked up the small bell and gently shook it. "With your hearing, you could be a mile away and still hear it or sense that I needed you. Humor me. Spend a few minutes with the kids."

Although reluctant, Vincent finally gave in. He stood up slowly and felt every aching muscle in his body virtually scream in relief. Being on his feet did feel better. "All right, I'll see what the children are doing but you are not to move a muscle unless it is to ring that bell."

"I'm not in any condition to go exploring the caverns now am I?"

"No." He leaned over and kissed her gently. "I'll be back soon."

Catherine watched him leave then sighed. She could feel his concern, she felt it every hour of every day. She felt it, not only in Vincent, but Father, Charlie, the children, and everyone in the community. It was all getting to be too much. She was tired, weak, and anxious for this pregnancy to come to an end — a happy end.

She lay there for a while trying to clear her mind and relax but it wasn't working. Oh well — I’ll read fora while, she decided. After looking around the bed, she spotted the book she wanted lying on the table. "Damn!" she swore. She debated for several minutes whether or not she should risk the few steps to the table and back. She was warned not to move a muscle, but it was only a few steps. What would it hurt?

* * * * * *

Vincent took a few minutes to stop by Father's chamber where Jake, Katie, along with their Uncle Charlie, were giving their elder a rough time. "What am I missing?"

They all looked at him. "Daddy!" Katie exclaimed as she ran to her father. He lifted her up into his arms and held her high above his head. "How's my little angel?"

Her response was a delighted giggle.

"How's Catherine?" Charlie asked.

"She practically threw me out. I think she wanted a little privacy. She promised me she wouldn't move until I got back."

"I imagine she's getting awfully bored," Father commented. "I couldn't endure it."

"Catherine will endure anything for her children," Vincent responded as he hugged Katie then put her down.

As soon as Katie's feet touched the floor, Vincent felt it. Pain, anguish, and fear ripped through the bond nearly tearing him apart with its intensity. "Catherine!" he gasped as panic overcame him. His knees nearly buckled as he turned to run to her. "Catherine!" he screamed.

Charlie was close on Vincent's heels during the mad dash through the tunnel and Father was doing the best he could to keep up. In the few seconds it took Vincent to get to his chamber, the pain and anguish he had felt earlier had faded into a frightening nothingness. He was scared beyond words.

When he entered the chamber, he saw Catherine lying on the floor in a pool of blood. "Catherine!" Falling to his knees, Vincent gently turned her face toward him. It was ghostly pale.

Charlie arrived and moved quickly to where she lay. He touched her face tenderly as a brother then began to act as a physician. "She's hemorrhaging again."

Father arrived and heard Charlie's words. "My God!"

"Vincent — carry her to the hospital chamber. We need to round up every blood donor we can. "NOW!"

The tone of Charlie's voice shocked Vincent into action. He put aside his own panic and focused on what he needed to do to help Catherine.

"Try to keep her legs elevated as much as you can," Charlie instructed.

Each step was pure agony for Vincent. He was afraid he had lost the woman he loved more than life and he couldn't move fast enough. The thought of her dying in his arms aroused a panic in him so intense it blotted out all reason. The dreams were coming true.

Paracelsus was right. Catherine would pay the price for loving him. His child was ripping her apart as he had his own mother. Tears blurred his vision.

He reached the hospital chamber and laid his precious bundle carefully on the table. "Catherine, please don't leave me. I love you. I need you. Please don't die."

Charlie entered the area and began the preparations. Father and Mary arrived soon afterward. "Vincent — wait outside."

"No," he pleaded as the tears streamed down his face.

Father walked over and put his hands on his son's shoulder. "Let us do our jobs. Go to your children. They're frightened. They need you. Right now, Catherine needs us."

Vincent's hands were trembling as he touched Catherine's pale face. "I'm with you, Catherine. If you go — I go with you. Fight, Catherine."

Somehow, he managed to walk out of the chamber on his own but once outside, his legs simply gave way and he fell to his knees. He clasped his hands over his heart then tilted his head backward. The anguished roar that escaped him echoed through the tunnels.

Charlie heard the heart-wrenching roar and looked over at Father. The pain in that sob brought tears to both their eyes. And, as the sound echoed throughout the community, everyone who heard it stopped what they were doing and simply listened.

As Vincent sat in the tunnel just outside the hospital chamber, Jacob and Katie walked up to him. Without saying a word, Jake sat down beside his father and Katie sat down on the other side. They both cuddled close and, together, they waited.

Inside the surgical area, the activity was frantic. Mary, Father, and Charlie moved quickly to try to stabilize their patient.

"She's losing a lot of blood. Have the donations started?" Charlie asked.

"Yes. We have four people donating now and four are waiting." The calm in Mary's voice disguised the desperation she was feeling.

"We've got to do a C-section. We don't have a choice. If we don't get in there and stop the hemorrhaging, we're going to lose her."

Father sighed in defeat. "You're right. Mary, get Rebecca prepared to care for the child."

She left the area quickly and without comment.

Charlie looked over at Father again. "You'd better tell Vincent."

Father closed his eyes. Facing Vincent with this would take all his strength. "Watch her carefully. I'll be back and we'll begin the procedure."

As soon as Father saw Vincent and the children huddled together, it broke his heart. Their fear was clearly visible.

"Father — what is it? How is Catherine?" Vincent's voice betrayed his raw emotions.

Father took a deep breath. "We must operate and we must do it quickly. The bleeding must be stopped. Vincent — I don't know if the child is strong enough to survive...."

"Will Catherine survive if you do not take the child?" Vincent asked in a barely controlled voice.

The answer wasn't an easy one but the words had to be spoken. "I...: No, Vincent."

"Then do what you must to save Catherine."

A look of mutual understanding was shared and then Father returned to the surgery area. A tear slid down Vincent's face as the children huddled closer offering their support and love.

Inside, Charlie stopped his preparations briefly to look down at his sister's face. He gently stroked her cheek with his finger and all her admonitions to save the baby came back to him. "I'm sorry, sis. You might hate me but I have to do what's right for you." Father's return ended Charlie's apology.

Father looked down at Catherine. "We'd better get started."

After the blood supply arrived and the IV's were set up, the surgery began. Mary monitored Catherine while Father and Charlie handled the surgery. Rebecca stood by, ready to take the child. The surgery preceded quickly and efficiently.

"My God!" Father exclaimed. "Look at the damage."

"We've got a lot of work to do," Charlie responded. "Let's try to stop these bleeders first."

Charlie watched as Father opened the uterus and the fetus came into view. "There it is. Let's get it out of there quickly."

Rebecca moved closer. Charlie's hands lifted the child as Father continued to free it. "It's a boy," he announced as he handed the child to Rebecca.

Father looked up. "Was it...."

"It's still a mess but — yes. It's like Vincent."

There was a brief look and a slight shake of Father's head. The work continued.

After most of the damage had been repaired and the surgeons were closing, the worst happened — Catherine's heart stopped beating.

"Father!" Mary screamed.

Charlie's reactions were swift. He jumped onto the table and began administering CPR while cursing the lack of any life support systems. "Come on, Cathy."

While Charlie struggled to restart her heart, Father administered the proper medications and searched for a pulse.

From the tunnel just outside the surgery area, a piercing scream was heard. "CATHERINE!"

* * * * * *

Pascal ran out into the tunnel and found Vincent sitting there in a trance-like state with the children gathered about him. "Vincent?"

Jacob looked up at Pascal. "He's gone after Mommy."

The child's answer alarmed Pascal. "Vincent - can you hear me?" There was no response.

"Leave him alone," Jacob ordered. "He has to bring Mommy back."

Knowing of the strange psychic bond that existed between Vincent, Catherine, and their children, Pascal accepted the child's answer but decided to stay close. Vincent was breathing and that reassured him, but he couldn't quell the unease rising in him about his friend.

* * * * * *

Vincent didn't know just where he was. All he knew was that he had come here in search of Catherine. He heard a sound and turned. Through the darkness and mist, he saw her walking toward a brilliant light. "Catherine!" he called out loudly. She didn't respond. He began running to her in slow motion. He caught up with her just beyond the outer edge of the light. He grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. "Don't leave me, Catherine."

"I don't want to, Vincent, but I don't have the strength to go on."

"Yes, you do — you have to for me and the children. We need you."

"I.... I can't."

Both of his hands were now gripping her shoulders firmly. She felt so cold to his touch. "Yes, you can. We have endured so much together. We can endure this. I will take care of you. Please Catherine, I cannot live without you. I will not!"

"Yes, you will," she answered. "I leave the children in your care. The little one will need you the most."

"I need you, Catherine. They need you. You can't leave us."

"I'm just too tired to fight anymore."

"Then I will fight for you." He picked her up and held her tenderly in his arms. "You rest, Catherine. I will watch over you, care for you until your strength returns. Just — don't leave me."

She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes.

In the surgery chamber, Charlie's arms were growing tired but he would not give up. "Come on, Cathy," he pleaded. "Stay with me."

"Wait a minute, Charlie."

Charlie stopped his efforts for a moment while Father checked for a pulse. Time was ticking away.

"There it is!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! We've got a pulse!"

"Thank God," Charlie responded. He climbed off the table and checked for himself. A wide smile spread across his face when he felt a reasonably strong beat. "That's my girl, Cathy." A tear slid down his cheek as he kissed her forehead.

Father breathed a sigh of relief and joy. "Let's finish up here before any more trouble develops."

* * * * * *

Pascal was watching as Vincent moved then opened his eyes. "Are you all right, Vincent?"

He sat there for a moment trying to refocus his eyes. "Catherine is back." Father walked out into the passageway and Vincent quickly got to his feet. "Father?"

"We almost lost her but she's holding her own. She lost a lot of blood and the damage was extensive. We are not out of the woods yet. Her condition is grave."

"But she is alive?" Vincent responded.

"Yes. By the way, you have another son." The news brought no reaction. "Vincent, the child is like you just as Catherine believed." Father couldn't believe the lack of response from his son. "The child is in serious condition as well." Vincent just nodded.

"When can I see her?' he finally asked.

Father scratched his chin. "We need to get her settled into a cot in the hospital chamber then you can come in. Charlie is with her. Vincent, it may be some time before she comes out of this."

"As long as she's alive, Father, I can wait."

As soon as Father left, Vincent turned to the children and enveloped them in a hug.

* * * * * *

After leaving Catherine in Mary's care, Charlie paid a visit to the secluded area of the hospital where Rebecca had taken the baby. Now that he had done all he could for his sister, he decided it was time to turn his attention to her unique child.

"How's Catherine?" Rebecca asked as Charlie entered the chamber. "She's holding her own. How's junior?"

Rebecca smiled warmly at the inference. "I've bathed and dressed him. He's small and quiet but he seems to be completely developed. He's breathing on his own and his heartbeat is steady." She looked into the crib. "He's incredible."

Charlie walked over and took a look. The first time he had seen his new nephew, he didn't have time to take a close look now he stared in wonder. There, in the crib, was the most fascinating creature he had ever seen. The small infant had a head of thick reddish blond hair, his skin was a delicate pink, and his eyes were dark blue. His most striking features, however, were the tilted eyebrows, the high cheekbones, and the cleft upper lip. In his own way, he was a beautiful little boy. He immediately captured Charlie's heart and he now understood why Catherine was so determined to bring him into the world. He was truly a gift.

With gentle hands, he carefully examined the child then lifted him into his arms. "Your mother is going to spoil you rotten." The child wiggled weakly. "We'll give Cathy about a half hour or so and then we'll see if he'll nurse."

"Will she be awake?"

"I doubt it but he can still nurse. This little fellow needs a steady diet of mother's milk. Putting him on something else could create all kinds of problems." Reluctantly, he lowered him back into the crib. "Did you do his navel?"

"Yes, Father taught me how."

"Good job. Just watch for any signs of infection. I don't know if Father plans to circumcise him or not. Is Vincent...." His face turned red. "I'm sorry."

"Yes, he is," Father stated as he walked into the chamber. "As is Jacob." He walked over to the crib and looked in. "Oh my."

Charlie watched a soft expression ease the tense lines of the older man's face. He was clearly reminiscing.

"Hello there, young man. You look just like your father. Have you examined him yet?"

"Yes, briefly. He seems fine but a little underweight and lethargic."

"Vincent was the same way at first. Then he cried for several days. I think now it was some sort of abandonment trauma. We need to make sure this one has plenty of contact with his mother. Breastfeeding should prevent a lot of the trauma Vincent suffered."

"Father — Catherine's condition is grave. What if...."

"We'll do the best we can. You know how beneficial breastfeeding is to both mother and child. As long as Catherine is not adversely affected by it, we must do what we can to give the child a fighting chance. Make no mistake about it, Charlie, both Catherine and the baby are borderline at best. The bonding between them on even the most primitive level is what they both need."

Charlie nodded. He had learned not to question the strange connection this unusual family shared. "You're probably right. When is Vincent going to see his son?"

"I don't know. His main concern right now is Catherine."

The look on Father's face aroused Charlie's curiosity. Something wasn't right.

* * * * * *

Vincent walked into the chamber and over to Catherine's bedside. He dropped to his knees and gently took her hand. "Catherine — rest now. I'll look after you. Don't worry about anything. Everything is going to be fine." He brought her hand to his mouth and gently kissed it.

Charlie walked into the chamber and watched the tender scene. He was never more convinced that the man simply would not survive without Catherine. Picking up a chair, he walked over to the cot. "You might as well get comfortable."

At first, there was no response but finally, Vincent raised his head and looked at him. "How is she doing?"

"Her heart stopped on the table. We had to do CPR until it restarted. Vincent — the surgery we had to do was.... The damage to her uterus was extensive. There will be no more children." There was no immediate reaction to his statement.

After several minutes, Vincent finally spoke. "I had already made that vow. I would not have allowed the risk again. I was ready to do whatever was necessary even if it meant not ever touching her again. As long as she is well, the sacrifice would be worth it."

The words were alarmingly calm and Charlie studied Vincent's face to try to get a reading of his emotions. He couldn't.

"How long will she be like this?" Vincent asked.

"I don't know. She's in a coma. It could last an hour, a day, a week, or — years. There's no way to tell."

Vincent stroked her cheek. "She needs time to rest and heal. She'll be fine."

Charlie wanted to believe that with all his heart. He prayed Vincent was right. "You haven't asked about the baby."

Vincent didn't respond. He just continued to stare at Catherine.

"Your son is small but we think he's completely developed. We'll have to watch him closely though." There was still no obvious reaction. "Vincent...." Before Charlie could say anything else, Father walked in.

"It's time we tried to feed the baby," Father announced just before Rebecca walked in carrying a small bundle in her arms.

Vincent stood up quickly. "She's not well."

"Vincent, we have to do this," Father tried to explain. "Catherine would want this. You know that."

He stood there for a moment battling some internal demons then abruptly left the chamber.

"What was that all about?" Charlie asked. "What's wrong with him?"

"With my son, it's hard to say. Right now, however, we have a more important matter to take care of. This child needs some nourishment and some contact with his mother."

Mary came in and, between the four of them and after several frustrated attempts, they finally managed to get the child to nurse. After the feeding, both mother and child seemed to rest a little easier. Soon Vincent returned and continued his bedside vigil.

Just before Jake and Katie's bedtime, Mary brought them in to see their mother. Katie climbed up on the cot and wrapped her little arms around her unconscious mother. Jake stood stoically by his father.

"Why doesn't she wake up, Daddy'?" Katie asked.

"Your mother has been through a lot. She needs to rest. She's just sleeping, angel."

The little girl sat up and kissed her mother's cheek. "I love you, Mommy."

Vincent choked back a tear. "She loves you too, Katie."

"Daddy — can I see the baby'?"

He didn't know what to say. Thankfully, Mary took over.

"Of course you can. He's probably asleep so we have to be real quiet, okay?"

"Okay!"

The little girl took Mary's hand eagerly. "Jacob, are you coming?"

Jake remained by his father's side. "No," he finally responded.

Mary thought that both Vincent and Jacob were behaving oddly but, due to the stress everyone had been under, it was understandable although puzzling. "Maybe later, then. Come along, Katie."

As soon as they left the chamber, Jacob walked over and looked at Catherine closely. "Dad — is she going to die?"

"Your mother is resting. She will be fine." Despite his best efforts, his words sounded mechanical and unconvincing.

As the vigil continued, Vincent left the chamber each time the baby was brought in to nurse. The feelings raging inside of him shamed him but he could do nothing to defeat them. His whole being was so connected to that small, fragile woman lying on the cot that nothing could distract him — nothing, that is, except that small bundle Mary kept bringing in. That bundle seemed to draw all those shameful feelings to the surface. Within an hour, fatigue finally won the battle and Vincent eyes closed.

"Vincent!"

His tired eyes opened reluctantly at the sound. They focused on Mary's distraught face. "What.... What is it? What's wrong?" His eyes sought Catherine. She was still sleeping.

"The baby's gone!"

His mind was still clouded in an exhausted haze. "What?"

"The baby is not in his crib." Mary's panic was evident in her face.

"Maybe Charlie or Father has him."

“No, Father is sleeping and Charlie went  back Above to get supplies for Catherine’s care hours ago.”

“Perhaps Rebecca….”

The lady in question walked into the chamber. “Rebecca – what?”

“Have you seen the baby?”

Mary’s question shocked the young woman. “Not since I left a few hours ago.  Why?”

Vincent stared at Catherine.  He was sensing some emotions that he thought were coming from her.  “The child is missing,”  he finally responded simply.

“Oh, my God!” exclaimed Rebecca

Sarah walked in holding Katie.  “Is Jake here”  she asked.

As soon as his son’s name was spoken, a horrifying image formed in Vincent’s mind. “No, Jacob. NO!”

Sarah, Rebecca and Mary watched in alarm as Vincent dashed from the chamber without a word of explanation.

* * * * * *

Vincent's instincts drove him on. He wasn't consciously aware of where he was going only that each step was leading him closer to Jacob. Soon, he caught up with his wayward son. "Jacob!" he called out. The boy stopped in his tracks then turned toward his father. In his arms, he struggled to hold onto a bundle. Vincent stared in shock at his young son. "What are you doing?"

Jacob's eyes filled with tears and they nearly washed away the intense look of determination blazing there. "I'm taking him Above where someone will find him."

"Why?" Vincent asked. "He's your brother."

"He made Mommy sick. He hurt her when he was being born. If I take him away, Mommy will get better."

A sharp pang of guilt tore through Vincent. "That's not true, Jacob. You can't blame an innocent baby for your mother's condition."

Jacob looked down at the baby then back up at Vincent. "You do."

The truth of his son's words cut through him like a double edge sword and he fell to his knees in anguish. Jacob was right and he had never felt more ashamed in his life. "I am so sorry, son. I have betrayed everything I hold sacred and dishonored your mother's love. I...." The tears began to trickle down his cheeks.

"Dad?"

Vincent looked over at his son and the bundle he carried. "Jacob, your mother suffered greatly to give your brother life. She bore it with love for him. He is a part of her as you are. To lose him would break her heart. A part of her would die. To blame him is wrong."

"I don't want Mommy to die!" the boy cried.

"I don't either but taking the baby away will not change what destiny has in store for her. She is in God's hands. We must have faith and we must not cast aside the gift He has given us in your brother."

Jacob looked down at the baby again. "I'm sorry."

Vincent extended his open arms. "Give him to me and let's take him back to his mother."

Hesitantly, Jacob walked to his father and placed the baby in his arms. Vincent cradled the warm bundle against his chest and, for the first time, felt his new son's quivering presence in his heart. The small infant was crying out for his father's strength and Vincent could no longer deny it. This was Catherine's child, a part of her, and he could not help but love it. As gently as he could, he pulled aside the edges of the blanket and looked into the most endearing face he had ever seen. A smile teased the corners of his mouth as he gazed down at the child. The infant looked up at him with surprising calmness. He seemed to be drawing strength from the comfort of his father's arms.

"Let's go home, Jacob," Vincent finally managed to say. "Your mother will get well faster when she feels that her family is safe and well."

Jacob walked over and hugged his father. Vincent placed a kiss on the top of his son's head then stood up. After nestling the baby safely in one arm, he took Jacob's hand and, together, they walked back home.

Father studied Catherine as she lay motionless on the cot. How will we survive if you don't? he asked silently. He took a deep breath just as Vincent walked in leading Jacob by the hand and carrying the baby in his arms. "Vincent — what...."

"I'll explain it all later. Would you please excuse us. My sons and I would like some time alone with Catherine."

Father smiled. Whatever demons Vincent had been battling were apparently defeated. "It would be my pleasure. Call me if you need me," he said softly then left the chamber.

After Father left, Vincent walked over to the bed and looked down at Catherine then back to the infant in his arms. The child's features weren't quite as dramatic as his own and the more square set of his jaw was evidence of his resemblance to his mother. He smiled as he felt the bond between father and son grow stronger with every breath.

Very carefully, Vincent lowered the child onto the cot and placed it within the bend of Catherine's arm. He then placed her arm around the child. After sighing with relief, he sat down on the edge of the bed and savored the sight of the two of them. Jacob walked over and climbed onto his father's knee and Vincent held him lovingly.

How long they sat there like that, Vincent wasn't sure. Time passed by unnoticed until the baby began to whimper. The whimper grew quickly into a cry that Vincent recognized as one of hunger. His son was demanding a feeding and he was demanding it now. Just as Vincent was about to get up and seek help for the feeding, he felt a sudden change in his connection to Catherine. He watched and waited. As the baby's cries grew louder, the change in their bond became more turbulent. "Catherine'?"

The movements began first. The slight fluttering of the eyelids, the twitching in her arms and legs, and the more pronounced rise and fall of her chest signaled her struggle to awaken. "Catherine — wake up. Open your eyes."

Although she was responding to his voice, he knew it was the baby's cries that were reaching her, drawing her back. "Come back, Catherine."

"Wake up, Mommy," Jacob encouraged.

Ever so slowly, Catherine's eyes began to open. She inhaled sharply when the light began to hurt her eyes. Vincent could tell she wanted to go back to sleep but the baby's insistent cries spurred her on. Finally, her eyes opened and she fought to focus them.

Tears filled Vincent's eyes and he felt a rebirth of hope in his heart. The dreams were not the foretelling of the future after all. They were simply the very real expression of his fears. His hand trembled as he reached over and stroked her cheek. "The baby needs feeding, Catherine. It's time you saw him. He's extraordinary just like you said he would be. You've got to see him, Catherine."

She responded immediately. Her eyes became clear and focused and her hands began searching for the child. When she encountered the squirming infant next to her, she turned her head toward him. A weak smile played gently across her face when her eyes found him. A trembling hand reached for him and moved the blanket aside.

Vincent heard her soft gasp as she looked at the now quiet baby who was, in turn, studying his mother. That vision would remain with him for the rest of his life. A tear slid down his cheek.

Catherine looked at the baby for the first time. She then turned to Vincent and said with great pride. "I told you he was like you."

"Yes, Catherine, you did. He's incredible."

"I love you, Mommy," Jacob said softly.

After taking a deep breath, Catherine lay her head back on her pillow then touched Jacob's arm. "I love you too, honey. Everything's going to be all right."

Her voice quivered and Vincent was reminded of just how weak she was. "Jacob, will you go get Mary and Father to help us with the feeding, please?"

Reluctantly, Jacob climbed down from his father's lap and stood by the bed looking down at his new brother.

"What do you think of him?" Catherine asked.

Jacob shrugged his shoulders. "He's okay." He then looked up at Catherine. "I'm glad you're all right, Mommy. I was scared."

"So was I," She answered in a weak voice.

The little boy leaned over and kissed her cheek then ran out of the chamber. A few minutes later, Mary and Father hurried in. Mary rushed over to the bedside first.

"We heard the good news, Welcome back, dear."

"The baby needs feeding," Catherine responded.

"I see. Well — we'll just have to remedy that won't we?"

The already established routine was repeated with the help of Vincent this time. Instead of bolting from the chamber, he supported Catherine as Mary positioned the infant. He watched with interest as his son fastened his mouth onto Catherine's nipple and began sucking deeply. He heard a contented sigh escape her as she watched the child ease his hunger. After the feeding, both mother and child fell into an exhausted slumber and the baby was placed in a crib by Catherine's bedside. While they both slept, Vincent brought Katie in to see her brother again. She sat in her father's lap and stared down into the crib.

"Hello there, Katie."

"Mommy!" Katie crawled out of Vincent's lap and onto the bed beside her mother. She gave her a big wet kiss. "I love you, Mommy."

"I love you too, baby."

"Are you going to be all right now?"

"You bet. I just need time to get well."

"Speaking of which Katie, your mother needs to rest. You can come back in the morning."

"Promise, Daddy'?"

"Promise. Now — off to bed with you."

Katie kissed her mother again then crawled off the bed.

Vincent leaned over and kissed her. "Do you want me to walk you back to your chamber?"

"No, Daddy. I'm a big girl now. I have a baby brother."

Both Vincent and Catherine laughed as Katie left the chamber.

"At least I'll have plenty of help."

"Maybe," Vincent replied.

"Vincent — what happened to me? I know I had surgery."

"Are you in pain?"

"Some — when I move around, but Father's given me something to help. What did they do — a Caesarian?"

"Yes — and...."

"And what?"

Vincent stared down at his hand wishing the subject had never come up. "Perhaps Charlie or Father should explain this to you."

"No. I would prefer to hear it from you."

"I cannot give you the proper medical definitions...."

"Just cut to the chase, Vincent."

He took a deep breath. "There was damage to the uterus. You were hemorrhaging badly. Catherine — your heart stopped on the table. Charlie had to resuscitate you."

She closed her eyes to avoid seeing the pain in Vincent's.

"Until they told me you were all right was an eternity. I've never been more frightened in my life."

"I don't remember anything. How long have I been unconscious?"

"For several days. I've lost count myself."

"There's more, isn't there'?" she asked.

The moment had come for the truth. "Charlie can tell you exactly what was done but...."

"But what? Tell me."

"There is no easy way to say this. Catherine — there will be no more children."

She stared at him blankly for a moment. "Cannot be or should not be?"

"Cannot be." Vincent saw her wince in pain as she lowered her head. "I suspected as much."

He reached over and took her hand gently in his. "Are you all right?"

"I will be. I guess all that matters is that the baby is all right and I'm going to be around to watch all three of them grow up."

"We all need you, Catherine. I wouldn't want to live without you."

She looked up at him and smiled. "I haven't forgotten you. I'm glad I'm going to be around to grow old with you. I couldn't stand the thought of you taking up with some other woman when I'm gone."

"Catherine — I would not...." Her laughter ended his protests.

"Please — it hurts to laugh," she finally admitted.

The sound of her laughter was a balm to Vincent's battered soul. "You're not disappointed?"

"I was planning to have my tubes tied anyway. Three kids are enough and this one will need a lot of extra attention from both of us. Are you disappointed?"

"We made that decision when I had the vasectomy. I will agree to anything that will ensure your health and happiness. I am happy with the family we have."

Catherine looked down at the sleeping child then over at Vincent. "He was worth it, you know."

Vincent didn't answer.

"Vincent, his being like you didn't cause all this. The problems I've had are not uncommon. I will not let you blame him or have you believe that story Paracelsus told you about your birth. Put the past behind you. You've got three kids to look after."

He could see the weariness in her eyes. "You need to rest, Catherine. Know that I love you. Know that I love each of our children. I will protect and guide them as long as I live. We have endured and survived the worst of it. Everything from now on will be fine. As long as I have you, my life is complete."

Her eyes were closing as he spoke. "I love you," she whispered as sleep claimed her.

Vincent sat back and stared at her peaceful face. The words were true but his own convictions had been tested beyond their limits. He now questioned the strength of his beliefs. As doubt filled him, Blake's words came back to haunt him.

"To see a World in a Grain of Sand

And heaven in a Wild Flower,

Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand

And Eternity in an Hour"

Those beautiful words now held a much deeper meaning for him. He sat back and said a prayer of thanks and made a promise.

5. LOVE AND HARMONY

"Sleep, sleep, beauty bright

Dreaming o'er the joys of night.

Sleep, sleep: in thy sleep

Little sorrows sit and weep.

Sweet babe, in thy face

Soft desires I can trace

Secret joys and secret smiles

Little pretty infant wiles.

As thy softest limbs I feel

Smiles as of the morning steal

O'er thy cheek and o'er thy breast

Where thy little heart does rest."1

The words of the poem were spoken in a soft voice and in the soothing cadence of a lullaby. The baby Catherine held in her arms finally closed his eyes. She stared at him in amazement and with complete adoration. It had been six weeks since his traumatic entrance into the world and those weeks had been a time of healing for everyone. Her own strength had been slow in returning but each day was better than the one before. And, although her legs were still weak, she spent most of her days actively caring for her children. Playing with Jake and Katie was no longer a joy she was denied and she reveled in spending as much time with them as possible. Perhaps her near death experience had made each moment an even more precious gift than ever before. A very contented smile teased the corners of her mouth.

Slowly and reluctantly, she rose from the bed and carried the infant to his crib. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't hold him all night. That wouldn't be good for either one of them. As she straightened up, she became aware of a very familiar masculine scent. Her child's father was behind her and his nearness aroused a multitude of emotions.

"He grows stronger each day."

His deep, resonant voice caressed her as tenderly as his hands had often caressed her body. He was her husband, the father of her children, her best friend — her very heart. He was uniquely sensuous without even being aware of it. Perhaps that was why she was so drawn to him. She smiled wickedly as a few erotic images played across her mind.

"How are we feeling, Catherine?"

She turned to him and was immediately captured by his warm blue eyes — eyes that held nothing but love for her. "Good — really good," she answered.

He tilted his head and peered down at her. "What does Father say?"

"He says I need a few more weeks to regain the strength and for the internal damage to completely heal, but he's really encouraged by my progress. He says the baby's doing fine as well."

Vincent smiled. "Our son's good health is obvious. You are the one who suffered the most. You are the one who needs the greatest care."

His love for her was evident in his eyes as well as in his words. She sighed as she slid her arms around his waist. "All of that is over now. Our son was worth the price." She looked deeply into his eyes and saw, as well as felt, his unwillingness to agree. Surprisingly, it didn't anger her because she knew the suffering he would have endured if she had not survived. She could forgive him that.

A deep longing rose in her as she rested her head against his chest. It had been much too long since she had felt the warmth and comfort of his arms as they shared a lover's embrace. And, even though, she realized that it was too soon for her physically, her emotional and spiritual need of him was growing stronger with each passing day.

Just as her thoughts were taking her places her body could not go, she felt Vincent's body stiffen beneath her touch. Awkwardly, he pulled away. For an instant, his response hurt her deeply then it occurred to her that her feelings must have been torture to him. Throughout his forced celibacy, he had not once complained or sought comfort elsewhere —that was not Vincent's style. He would set aside his own needs for her comfort and safety even if it drove him mad. It almost had once. She just judged his response to be an attempt to put some distance between them to protect her and to retain his iron-clad control. "It won't be much longer," she said softly.

Vincent sighed heavily and gently shook his head. "You need your rest, Catherine. Tomorrow is the naming ceremony."

"We both need a good night's sleep."

"Catherine, perhaps it would be better if I slept elsewhere tonight. You would rest better..."

"I will not hear of such a thing! Vincent, we've been apart too long already. I hated sleeping alone all those weeks. Just having you close to me again has been wonderful?

"I was only thinking of you, Catherine."

As always, his words and the emotion behind them, touched her very soul. "I know, Vincent. I know."

* * * * * *

Later that night as they lay snuggled up together under the quilt, Catherine allowed Vincent's warmth to flow into her. It felt so good to be held and touched by the man she loved. If only she could give him some sort of comfort. He had been so strong during their recent ordeal and had asked nothing in return. He had taken her sudden disinterest in sex with his usual quiet dignity. There had been no resentment, no argument, not even one disapproving look. He was an incredible man and she was grateful he had chosen her to love.

She snuggled deeper into his sheltering arms. Without her really being aware of it, her left hand began to work its way down over Vincent's broad chest and flat stomach. The familiar planes of his anatomy both excited and comforted her. The pleasing sensation the contact evoked gave her an idea and she began to work her fingers underneath his shirt. Gently, she teased the soft hair she encountered. His body stiffened slightly at her touch and a sound resembling a gasp escaped him. She paused until she felt him relax then she continued all the while thinking to herself, There is a way.

Her hand moved slowly downward and she could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath her ear. Her own heart responded. For the first time in months, she began to ache for him. If only...

Suddenly, she felt his hand catch hers. "Catherine — no."

"Why not? It's been months, Vincent."

"Please — don't."

It was the almost-frightened tone of his voice that got Catherine's attention. She lifted her head from his chest and stared into his eyes. "Vincent, there's nothing wrong with my touching you. It doesn't have to go any further."

The muscles in his jaw tightened noticeably. Then, without a word, he turned away and sat up on the edge of the bed. "You don't understand, Catherine."

"No, I don't. Vincent, give me some credit here. I know I'm not well enough to have intercourse yet but I feel well enough for this. We haven't had any kind of intimacy in a long time. I need that."

She watched as he gripped the edge of the mattress. "I too have missed that but the risk is too great."

"Vincent...."

He began dressing then stood. "I'm going for a walk. You should go to sleep."

As she watched him walk out of their chamber, Catherine, at first, felt hurt and rejected. Angrily, she lay back down and tried to sort things out. That's when the fear in his eyes and his warning about the risk being too great truly registered. "He's afraid," she murmured.

Catherine, Vincent, Jake, and Katie stood next to Father as everyone gathered around for the long awaited announcement, Charlie looked on from across the chamber with concern. Until his sister was her old self again, he would not let down his guard. He had come too close to losing her.

Vincent stood proudly next to his wife as he held Katie in his arms and Jake stood by his mother's other side looking very protective. The center of attention, however, was Catherine and the baby she held in her arms.

"And what name have you chosen?" Father asked.

Catherine looked down at the incredible being she cradled against her chest. "We've decided to call our son — Alexander."

The crowd of well-wishers soon surrounded them and the party kicked into high gear. The official reason for the gathering, of course, was the naming ceremony but the community was also celebrating Catherine's recovery. The last six months had been a strain on everyone but, on this night, all was well.

Charlie walked over to Catherine, "Alexander?" "It sounds noble like Vincent," she responded.

"Yeah — I guess he looks like an Alexander." He studied her face intently. "How are you feeling?"

"Will you stop worrying? I feel fine."

"You look tired."

"Oh gee — thanks," she laughed.

"You know what I mean."

His endearing look of concern touched her and prompted a hug. "I'm going to be all right."

Charlie sighed as he looked at her still gaunt and pale face. "You've got a long way to go."

"How long?"

"What?"

"How long will it be?"

"I can't give you an exact date. You went through a lot. You're lucky to be alive. Don't push it," he responded.

She smiled at him innocently. "I'm not trying to push it."

"Cathy — you've got to take it one day at a time. It's only been about six weeks. With the kind of surgery you had, it will take months to heal completely. You literally died on the table. Be grateful for every day you have."

"I am. Maybe that's why I want to live life to the fullest. I don't want to miss anything."

Charlie laughed. "I'm all for that but do it slowly, sis."

Her smile faded. "There is something I want to talk to you about."

"What?"

"You told me I couldn't have any more children."

"That's right. You cannot get pregnant."

"Are you completely sure?" she asked.

"Father and I did the surgery. There's no way."

"And you told Vincent that?"

"Yes. He knows. Why? What's going on?"

"Maybe I'm making too much of it, but I think Vincent is afraid of intimacy."

"Cathy! You're not trying...."

"No, of course not. What I'm saying is that he's afraid of even the slightest intimacy. He balks every time I try to hug him, backs away when I touch him, and will only kiss me when I initiate it. He's scared, Charlie."

"I would be too. He went through hell, Cathy. I can't blame him. You both need time to heal. You can't force it. If you try to have intercourse before you've healed, it would be extremely painful and you could permanently damage yourself further. If that happened, Vincent would blame himself in such a way he would refuse to try again. You could both be damaged beyond repair. It's not worth the risk. Be patient."

"Calm down, little brother. I'm not interested in — going all the way yet. I was thinking of — other methods that would give Vincent a little — relief."

Charlie couldn't help the blush that warmed his cheeks. "Oh — I understand now." He couldn't hide his embarrassment. "Don't push him, Cathy. It'll only make it worse. Relax. Heal."

* * * * * *

Over the next two weeks, Catherine heeded Charlie's advice. Actually, it wasn't that difficult considering the fact that she was weak and still very sore and taking care of the kids took all the energy she could muster. Vincent was his ever-patient, helpful, and attentive self. He would hug her, hold her hand, and return her kiss but would allow nothing more and she didn't push it.

As she sat on the bed one night feeding the baby, Vincent walked in. She glanced up discreetly and noticed the longing in his eyes as he watched the baby nursing her exposed breast. It was a look that quickly passed.

"Are the children asleep?" she asked as her gaze returned to the baby in her arms. Vincent walked over and sat down at the table. "Yes — all tucked in and dreaming."

"This one is almost there." Little Alexander's eyes were closing and his sucking motion had slowed considerably.

"I'll put him to bed," Vincent offered.

He stood by the bed as Catherine very gently disengaged the child's mouth from her breast. Without closing the gown, she handed the child to Vincent then watched as he tucked him in his crib. He was such a visual contrast at times like these. She sighed softly then leaned back into the pillows. She was experiencing some soreness in her breast so she left her gown open and gently began to massage it. It felt good and brought back memories of the times Vincent would nurse to relieve the tenderness of an overly engorged breast. This time, he had not offered and she had not requested it.

"Are you experiencing some discomfort, Catherine?"

His voice ended the trip down memory lane and she opened her eyes. "Some." He looked so uncomfortable her heart nearly broke for him.

"Are you.... Did the baby nurse long enough? I know how uncomfortable you say that can be."

She wasn't overly uncomfortable but this offer to share some sort of intimacy with him was too good to pass up. His eyes were telling her how much he needed that closeness as well. "Now that you mention it, I don't think he did. Would you mind?" She demurely opened her gown further to expose the other breast.

Both fear and need appeared in his eyes as he looked at her. He took a deep breath, walked over to the bed and sat down. After taking a moment to focus his attention, he tenderly captured her breast in his hand.

His touch aroused a flood of emotions — relief, comfort, excitement, and release all spun wildly through her. No, she wasn't ready for the complete act, but she had needed his touch so desperately. She fought back a moan that might have frightened him away.

He touched her for a few seconds then lowered his mouth to her breast. The sensation of his warm lips on her overly-sensitive skin was almost more than she could handle. She clenched the sheet in her fist as he began the gentle sucking motion. With her other hand, she clasped a handful of his hair and pressed him closer.

She savored every moment of their intimacy as brief as it was, until she felt Vincent trembling. She opened her eyes as he released her and pulled away. His resolve was shattering. His eyes focused on her mouth and his hand clasped her behind her neck. He captured her mouth in a passionate kiss that made them both tremble but all too soon, Vincent pulled back. When she opened her eyes, she saw a wildness in his that brought back memories of their first time together in that dark cavern. "Vincent?"

Shame and anger flooded her connection to him. "I'm sorry," he stammered as he got to his feet. He could no longer look at her.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Vincent. You didn't do anything wrong," she argued.

"I cannot let this happen."

"You weren't doing anything that would hurt me. You only kissed me."

"I was out of control. I didn't want to stop at a kiss."

"There are other things we can do, Vincent. You know that. We don't have to have intercourse."

"No, Catherine. My needs almost killed you. It must stop." He grabbed his cloak and walked swiftly out of the chamber.

"Vincent!"

The events of that night were not discussed or repeated. Catherine could feel Vincent pulling further and further away from her and it was breaking her heart. On the surface, as far as the community was concerned, life had returned to normal but underneath the facade, the tension was tearing them apart.

On this particular day, Catherine had about all she could take of Vincent's polite coolness. "I'm going up to the apartment today," she announced as she changed her clothes. "Would you watch the kids?"

"Of course, but do you think you're strong enough for the journey?"

"Yes. I'm walking in the park every day and doing some light strength training. I can't run the marathon but I can handle a trip up top." The conversation was alarmingly cool.

"We'll walk you to the entrance," Vincent said as he lifted Alexander into his arms.

"That's not necessary."

"Perhaps not for you but it is for me."

* * * * * *

Catherine walked around the apartment she shared with her family when they could be up top. It felt strange to be here now and she wondered it would ever feel like home again. Once, she could have her family all here at once but now the risk might prove to be too great. Vincent could look after himself but little Alexander was helpless.

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted her thoughts. "Whew — they're here." The they she was referring to was Joe and Jenny. She had sent them an invitation to meet her here to deliver her news.

She opened the door and found herself staring into two pairs of dark brown tear-filled eyes. "Hello Joe, Jenny."

"Cathy," Jenny cried out just before she threw her arms around her in an impassioned hug. "I'm so glad to see you. I've missed you so much."

Catherine patted her friend's back soothingly. "I've missed you too."

As soon as Jenny pulled back, Catherine's eyes met Joe's. His emotions were evident in his eyes and hers filled with tears. She opened her arms to him. "Come here."

Joe responded by quickly enveloping her in a hug. "God — I've missed you Radcliffe."

"And I've missed having you bossing me around. Who have you been picking on while I've been gone?"

"Everybody," Joe laughed.

"Come in, come in." Catherine guided them through the door. "Sit."

After everyone was comfortable, Jenny had to express her concern. "Cathy, you've lost a lot of weight and you're so pale. Are you all right?"

"I am now. It was touch and go for a while but I'm going to be all right."

"Are you sure?" Joe asked. "What happened?"

As much as she wanted to blurt out the fact that she'd had another child, she couldn't. She had to hide Alexander's existence just as she had to hide Vincent's. "I really don't want to relive it. It's over and I'm recovering. That's all that matters. That's why I asked you here."

"I don't like the sound of this," Joe commented.

"Joe — I have decided to resign."

"What? Cathy...."

"Hear me out. I've just been through a very difficult and frightening experience. I need time to recover and get my life back together. I want to spend time with my family."

"We'll just extend your leave."

"No. Joe, that's not fair to the city and everyone in the office. Look, it's not forever. When I'm ready to work again, I'll be pounding on your door. I just need some time — that's all. If you really care for me, you won't argue."

"Cathy, you know I care. Are you sure this is what you want?"

"It's what I want and, more importantly, it's what I need. Please understand."

Joe sat back. "Whatever makes you happy, Radcliffe, I'm all for. But please, don't shut me out of your life."

"Oh Joe, I could never do that. You're more than my boss, you're my friend. You will always be a part of my life."

Jenny took Joe's hand. It was a gesture that caught Catherine's eye. "How will you live? Where will you live?" Jenny asked.

"I have a sizeable estate from my Father. It will pay the bills until I return. My brother will take care of it. Jen, I just need to get away but I won't be far away. I'll write and sneak back as much as I can."

Jenny studied her friend intently. "You look tired. You've really been through a lot haven't you?"

"Yes. I was given another chance and I want to take advantage of it. That's what this is all about. I'm not up to tilting at windmills."

Although there were tears in her eyes, Jenny smiled then moved to Catherine. She hugged her friend. "You've lost so much weight. What's your secret?" she laughed.

"Serious illness. I don't recommend it," Catherine responded. Right after her comment, she noticed the way Jenny looked over at Joe. She'd seen that look before. "What's up with you two?" They both look shocked. "Come on."

Joe gave her an embarrassed smile. "Jenny and I have been seeing each other for a couple of months."

Catherine glanced back and forth between the two. "Define seeing each other. How serious is this?"

"We don't know yet, Cathy," Jenny replied. "We're still sorting that out."

"What do you think, Radcliffe? Do you approve?" Joe asked.

Catherine couldn't stop the smile that quickly appeared on her face. "I'm just wondering what took you two so long to discover each other. I always thought you would make a great couple. I want details."

The threesome talked for a couple of hours before Catherine realized she had to get back Below in time for Alexander's next feeding. "I hate to bring this to an end, friends, but I have to get going."

Joe stood up and walked over to Catherine. The genuine look of sadness in his eyes touched her deeply. "You take care of yourself, Radcliffe. There will always be a job for you in my department. You just let me know when you're ready."

"I will. You take care of Jen, okay?"

"My pleasure."

Catherine stood up and hugged her friend. When the hug ended, Joe quickly turned and walked toward the door. Catherine realized he was trying to hide the tears in his eyes. Next, Jenny walked over and enveloped her in her arms.

"I love you, Cathy."

"I love you, too, Jen. I hope it works out between you and Joe. Despite what he wants everyone to believe, he's a nice guy."

Tears streaked down Jenny's face. "I know. Cathy — be happy."

"I am."

Catherine watched as the two left the apartment. She wrapped her arms around herself and smiled. Although she would miss them, it was comforting to know that they had each other and she hoped they would find the kind of love that she and Vincent shared. The smile faded.

* * * * * *

Catherine returned to her chamber that afternoon feeling as if she had run a marathon. The exhaustion served to remind her that complete recovery was still beyond her reach. Grateful that the chamber was empty and quiet, she stretched out on the bed and quickly fell asleep. When she awoke sometime later and sat up on the side of the bed, she discovered she wasn't alone.

"Did you rest well, Catherine?"

She stretched and yawned then nodded slowly. "How long have I been asleep?"

"I would guess an hour. How was your trip Above?"

Now was as good a time as any to spring it on him. "Successful. Vincent — I met Joe and Jenny at the apartment. I wanted to see them and let them see that I was all right. And — I resigned."

Catherine wasn't really sure just what reaction she was expecting but she had not expected no reaction. Vincent simply looked at her for a few seconds then stared at his clasped hands resting on the table.

"Are you sure that is what you want?" he finally asked.

"It is what I need. It is what is best for me and this family."

"Catherine — why did you not discuss this with me before you made your decision?"

"The decision was mine to make and I didn't want to argue about it. Vincent — this is what is best for me now. If I want to resume my career in a year or so, I can."

Vincent again looked down at his hands. "I wouldn't have argued with you, Catherine. I agree with your decision."

Catherine sighed in relief.

"How did Joe take it?"

"Not bad, actually. I think his concern for my health helped him see my point of view."

Rising slowly from his chair, Vincent once again looked at her. "You can now concentrate on healing." He walked over and stood in front of her.

She got to her feet and looked into his calm blue eyes. "WE need time to heal." She slid her arms around him and rested her head against his chest. His steady heartbeat reassured her and gave her hope. "I love you, Vincent."

"I love you, Catherine."

His response sounded like the anguished confession of a tortured heart.

* * * * * *

The weeks turned into months and, before Catherine realized it, Alexander was six months old. He was crawling, saying a few words, and pulling himself up. His attempts to stand usually ended with an undignified fall on his little butt, but he wasn't easily discouraged. He was just as determined as his mother.

Her own physical condition had steadily improved. She had gained some of the weight back and no longer looked so gaunt and frail. Her walks in the park had brought the color and healthy vigor back to her skin and hair. The scar from the surgery had smoothed over and the redness had faded into a soft pink. It was still a little tender but she was no longer afraid to touch it. Even Father and Charlie's exams were no longer painful.

Thinking of the exams made her remember what Charlie had said at the last one. "Catherine, it's been over six months since the surgery. All indications say that you've healed. The internal I just did confirms it. It's safe for you to resume sexual relations but slowly and carefully. The first few times may be painful because you haven't had intercourse in a long while. The scar is still a little tender so you might not want to use the standard position."

She laughed at the memory. Charlie was trying his best to be detached and professional but he couldn't hide the blush that crept up his neck to his cheeks. "I'll keep that in mind if the situation arises," she had responded with a laugh.

"You are hopeless — you know that?"

They both laughed then Catherine's mood grew serious. "It's Vincent. He still doesn't show any interest in a physical relationship. But; more importantly, I feel as if I'm losing him."

Charlie took her hand in his. "I don't think that's possible, Cathy."

"I don't think Vincent would ever leave me or the children. It's just that he's so distant. The passion we always shared is missing."

"He's afraid."

"I know. I also know that if we don't work through this, it will put a wall between us that I don't know if I can tear down."

"He blames himself, you know."

"I know and it's ridiculous."

"Not to him. He doesn't want to risk losing you again even if it means sacrificing the physical aspect of your marriage."

"It's more to it than that, Charlie."

"I don't understand."

"It has to do with an evil man who told Vincent a lot of lies about his past. To some degree, I think he still doubts his humanity. What happened to me giving birth to a child like him seems to have re-enforced those doubts."

"Hum — he may need more help than you can give him."

"Maybe. I just know that something has got to give."

* * * * * *

That was two weeks ago and the situation had not improved. If anything, Vincent had grown more distant and aloof. Finally, the stress became too much for both of them and a confrontation one night almost destroyed their marriage.

Catherine had awakened in the middle of the night to find Vincent's arms around her and his leg wedged between hers. His mouth was so close to her ear that his every breath was driving her crazy. Oh so carefully she maneuvered herself into a more accommodating position beneath him. She hesitated a moment to make sure he would not turn away then began to nibble his ear and nuzzled his neck. At first, he responded by caressing her stomach with his hand and moving his leg in a very pleasing rhythm against the inside of her thigh. Soon, his mouth sought hers and the kiss they shared reawakened her need of him. Just as her passion roared to life, she felt Vincent pull away abruptly.

She opened her eyes and saw a look of shock and confusion on Vincent's face. "It's all "right, Vincent. I've healed enough. Please don't turn away from me."

Her plea was quickly rejected. Vincent virtually sprang from the bed, grabbed his clothes and dressed. "No," he repeated over and over again.

"Vincent, don't run away from this. We've got to work it out."

"No, Catherine. I will not put you at risk again."

He gave her no time to argue. Grabbing his cloak, he fled their chamber.

Hurt and anger raged in Catherine and she slammed her fist into the mattress. "You're destroying us," she cried. The tears began to stream down her face and she wept uncontrollably.

Two days passed and Vincent did not return. Catherine's anger had dissolved into a calm determination that this unbearable situation between them had to end. To save her marriage she had decided it was time to put it all on the line.

* * * * * *

"Hello, Catherine. Have you heard from Vincent'?" Father asked.

"No. That's why I'm here."

"Perhaps we should send out search parties."

"That's not necessary. I know where he is."

"Catherine, it's obvious to everyone that you and Vincent are having problems. Would you like to talk about it?"

"I'm afraid talking about it has been futile. Vincent's not willing to listen."

Father sighed. "Yes. I know how — stubborn he can be."

"Do you remember what Paracelsus told him about his birth?"

"That preposterous lie? Yes I do."

"Since I had so much difficulty delivering a child like him, I think he believes it. He blames himself and now he won't allow any intimacy between us at all."

"Oh — I see. He knows you cannot get pregnant again. Charlie and I both explained it to him."

"Fear can overcome logic, Father. You know that."

"I'm afraid so. What do you plan to do?"

"Confrontation is the only way. We've got to address the issue alone, away from the eyes of the community. Kanin and Olivia are watching the children. I'm going to find Vincent."

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Catherine?" Father voiced his concern.

"Something has to be done and this is my last option. I have to make him understand and I can't do that by just sitting idly by while he continues to build a wall between us."

Father reluctantly agreed. "I suppose you're right but I can’t help being concerned. Be careful."

"I will. We'll both be back soon."

"Are you sure you shouldn't take someone with you?"

"Yes. I know how to get to him. If I need any help, I'll signal on the pipes."

Father hugged Catherine tenderly. "My love goes with you. Take care."

"I will. I love you, too. See you soon."

* * * * * *

Throughout Catherine's journey to the catacombs, her thoughts were of Vincent and their marriage. She loved him with all her heart and soul and all she really wanted was the closeness they had once shared. Admittedly, she simply could not understand the depth of his fear. They had been man and wife for almost six years and, during that time, had forged a strong bond of trust and honesty. They shared a level of intimacy that even the most ardent of lovers seldom obtained. So, with all that, how could he now allow some unfounded fear to come between them? She had survived the ordeal and so had their extraordinary child. The crisis was over. Why couldn't he get beyond it?

Despite it all, she couldn't be angry with him — frustrated, yes — but never angry. She could also feel Vincent's frustration and that frightened her. If he got caught up in that downward spiral again, she could very well lose him forever. Those horrible images of him on the brink of madness were permanently etched in her mind. And, with every step she took, she became more and more afraid that history was about to repeat itself.

She reached a familiar tunnel and paused. This was the cavern Vincent had found refuge in years before. It was where Jacob was conceived. An ache filled her heart as she thought about what had taken place in that cold, dark cavern. The memory of the desperation she felt in his touch that night made her shiver. They loved that night out of an overpowering need to connect. Vincent was a drowning man grasping at a lifeline — her love.

After taking a long, slow, deep breath, Catherine gathered her courage and walked down the tunnel toward the cavern. She peered into the semi-darkness searching for that familiar silhouette. Soon, her eyes focused on a shadow in the corner. "Vincent?"

The shadow moved toward her. "You should not be here, Catherine."

"And just why not?"

"You know what happened here."

"Yes; I do. Jacob was conceived here."

An anguished sigh echoed around the chamber walls. "I came here to die."

"And instead a new life was created — a life that has brought us a great deal of joy. So Vincent, why are you here now — hiding in the darkness?"

"Maybe this is where I belong, Catherine. I am a creature of the darkness."

"You are NOT a creature. You are the man that I love. Your fear drove you here just like it did then. And, like before, I will not allow it to win. So — let's face this new demon of yours.

"Catherine, please — leave me."

"Vincent, how many times are we going to go through this? You are the only one who can't seem to accept your humanity."

"It's not that simple, Catherine."

"Then tell me, Vincent. I want to know why you're pulling away from me. Does our marriage mean so little to you?"

"Our life together means everything to me. How can you ask that?"

"I ask that because you are so afraid of touching me that you hide in this place. You leave our bed if we get too close. You tell me the risk is too great. I ask because you're destroying our marriage."

Vincent began pacing. "I don't want to lose you," he admitted.

"You don't have to," Catherine countered.

"Don't you see? I almost lost you by loving you. Having my child, one truly like me, almost killed you."

"My God, Vincent, thousands of women suffer difficult pregnancies every year. Some miscarry, some die, I was lucky. I thank God for that. I don't for one minute think Alexander was the cause. It angers me that you do."

"I don't blame him, Catherine. He is an innocent child. I blame myself. It is dangerous to love me. I fear for you."

"If you're afraid I'll get pregnant again, you know that's not possible."

Vincent spoke slowly and deliberately. "I hear the words, Catherine, but I have difficulty accepting them. I loved you and it almost cost you your life. Every time I touch you, I remember that dream. I remember the blood and I remember Paracelsus' words."

Slowly, Catherine walked over to him and gently touched his clenched fist. "I understand the pain those words cause you but they are lies, Vincent. They were the creation of a madman determined to destroy you. Even from the depths of hell, Paracelsus is still trying to destroy you — destroy us. If you give in to those fears, he will succeed."

"I don't care about me, Catherine. You almost died."

"Someday, I will, Vincent. Just as you will. It's inevitable. That's why it is so important that we live life to the fullest. Almost dying has made me want to embrace all life has to offer. A large part of that is the love we share. When I'm in your arms, I feel alive. I feel loved. I soar beyond my day to day problems. I feel connected to someone on more than just a physical level. I miss that. I need that."

She moved in front of him and looked into the clear depths of his eyes. "It's not the sex, Vincent. I could live without that if I had to. I need the closeness, the intimacy, the sharing. If we don't have that, we don't have a marriage."

Pain filled his eyes. "Don't you think I miss those things? Don't you realize how desperately I need to lose myself in you. Catherine, at this very moment, it is taking all the strength I have to fight the urge to take you in my arms and surrender to the passion."

"What's stopping you?"

"A fear so intense it turns the heat of my passion cold."

Catherine reached up and tenderly caressed his cheek. "I don't think that is possible."

Vincent reached up and captured her hand in his. "Catherine...."

"I need you, Vincent. Not just as a protector or provider but as my husband. I want you back. I want what we had before. We are bonded by more than a ring. You know that."

She brought his hand to her mouth and gently kissed it. The silken hair tickled her nose. "I feel as if I've lost you."

The battle being waged was evident in Vincent's eyes. "Almost losing you was the most frightening experience of my life. Denying my need for you is a battle I cannot win despite my fear."

"I don't want you to deny what you feel. Vincent, there is no danger in loving you but there is a great deal to fear in denying what and who we are. We have learned that — at great cost to us both." As she looked into his eyes, she could see the wall of fear begin to crumble.

"I love you, Catherine. I need you." With those words, he expressed the truth he had held so tightly in his heart. Hesitantly, Vincent stroked Catherine's cheek with the back of his hand then watched her reaction. That soft, sensual, pleased expression once again awakened his desire. He had missed the softness of her skin and the warmth of her body.

The love in her eyes was like a healing balm to his tortured soul. She loved him. She needed him. She accepted him. That was all he wanted of life.

Catherine watched as Vincent began to lean toward her, his eyes focusing on her mouth. As he drew near, she lifted her chin and tilted her head to one side to await his kiss. When contact was made, an involuntary groan escaped her and, in response, he deepened the kiss. She soon found herself enfolded in two strong arms and held tenderly against a powerful chest. Her own body warmed and melded against his solid form as the kiss continued.

As their lips parted, she could feel him trembling. "I love you, Vincent. I need you," she whispered against his slightly parted lips. The heat the kiss had generated warmed her blood and heightened her senses. She wanted to feel his hands touching her and his body moving against hers. After all the pain and discomfort she had endured over the last few months, she needed the pleasure that only Vincent's touch could bring. Her heart needed the comfort only his love could give.

"Catherine, I...."

She could feel his heart pounding as the words failed him. "I know," she responded.

His eyes opened slowly and those piercing blue orbs focused on her. "I want to — I need to so badly — but...."

"No. I won't accept excuses. My body has healed. It's time we healed our hearts as well. Trust me, Vincent. Trust your love for me."

Once again, he pulled her against him in a tender embrace. "I love you so much."

"Then don't torture us both by denying that love."

He held her for a moment in quiet contemplation then slowly pulled back. In his softest, most sensual voice he whispered, "Not here. Not like this."

She smiled in triumph. "The place doesn't matter to me."

"It does to me. This place is filled with the shadows of the past."

"The shadows are in your heart — not in this place. This is simply a cavern — nothing more." In his eyes, she saw a growing reluctance. "I would prefer our first time together in almost a year to be in a more suitably romantic place but I think you have a demon that has to be defeated here — just like before. You will never be able to put your past to rest as long as this place holds such power over you."

Vincent pulled away and began pacing again. The forceful way he virtually marched back and forth betrayed his tension. To others, that stance was a signal to stay away; to Catherine, it was simply an expression of his vulnerability.

Finally, the pacing stopped and she approached him. She stood there silently reaching out to him through their bond. That sense of him that filled her heart and mind responded slowly as she enfolded it tenderly with her love. She felt it strengthen until finally the golden mane of hair moved as he looked upward. It was a gesture she had long ago recognized as capitulation.

Catherine stepped closer then tentatively placed her hand on his back. The contact was meant to soothe and comfort yet the feel of his warm, solid back softening to her touch was a catalyst. She wanted more so she slid her arms around his shoulders and rested her head against his soft hair. Quietly, she breathed in his scent.

In response, Vincent's hands began to caress her forearms and hands.

"I'm sorry, Catherine. I don't mean to push you away — it's just that every time I think about making love to you, I remember how sick you were. I remember all the blood. I remember the anguish I felt at the thought that I might lose you. I remember the guilt."

"An unfounded guilt. Once and for all will you please accept the fact that you are not responsible for everything that happens to me — good or bad? I think you're wonderful but you're not that powerful."

A soft chuckle turned into a hearty laugh as he turned around to face her and hold her in his arms. It was a tender moment that reminded them both of what they had been denied. Then, as the laughter ceased, other feelings surfaced. Those feelings led them to a soft, sensual kiss that began slowly but deepened quickly as passion began to rise. Their bodies pressed against each other in a growing need for the intimate contact they both so desperately needed.

A pleasant, almost forgotten warmth began to spread through Catherine's body. Its return revived her belief that things could be as they were until she felt Vincent struggling to overcome his fears. Gently, she ended the kiss and looked into his troubled eyes. "Vincent — don't pull away from me now. We have to get beyond this."

He looked deeply into her eyes apparently searching for some sign of doubt. When he didn't find it, his own eyes lost their turbulence and began to fill with love. That soft, vulnerable look of complete adoration and wonder had the power to make her weak in the knees and it was doing so now. She could imagine how she must look standing there with such a foolish grin on her face.

"Catherine — are you certain you have healed enough? The thought of causing you pain...."

"Vincent — there will be some pain because of the surgery and the fact that it's been so long but I'm prepared for it. It's not something I can't handle."

"The first time — here — did it hurt you then?" Vincent asked softly.

Remembering that time always evoked mixed feelings. There was the joy of finally becoming one with the man she loved and then there was the desperation and pain she experienced in that joining. "I won't lie to you — there was some pain because it had been years since I'd been with a man but that pain turned to pleasure. I was a little sore the next day and I will be tomorrow. That doesn't concern me. What brief pain and soreness I may feel is outweighed by the comfort and pleasure I will feel. I'll forget the discomfort — I won't forget the love."

Her answer troubled him. "Catherine — you are so — precious to me. I want to hold you carefully like a delicate porcelain doll."

"I am NOT made of porcelain. I am flesh and blood like you and that's how I want to be held," she answered then smiled warmly.

Vincent responded with a smile of his own then held her a little closer. "Very beautiful flesh."

That intriguing nose of his was so close she couldn't resist the temptation to rub her own nose against his. The tickling sensation made her giggle. "I've missed that."

"I've missed you," Vincent responded. His mouth then quickly recaptured hers in a tender, questioning kiss.

Catherine responded passionately and soon they were lost in a flood of desire until kissing just wasn't enough. She felt Vincent's hands move tentatively from her back to either side of her breasts. There he stopped. "Don't stop. You can touch them. I want you to," she encouraged.

"You're still nursing."

"So? You've always enjoyed that before."

An endearing, shy smile was his response. "I have to confess that I do derive a great deal of pleasure from that but I am also aware of your sensitivity."

"You know, my dear Vincent, you spend entirely too much time thinking," She leaned back a little so that his hands would slide up the sides of her breasts a little more. Just having his hands that close made her skin begin to tingle.

She felt his hands tremble as they hesitantly moved over the fullness of her breasts. Being held so intimately by his strong, masculine hands evoked a gasp of extreme pleasure from her. And, as his hands caressed her, she began to tremble as well. "Oh — Vincent," she moaned as she once again pressed her mouth to his.

He returned her kiss then sought the tender skin of her neck and her sensitive ear lobe. The desperation and passion rose with each touch. Then, to satisfy her own hungry need to touch him as intimately as he had touched her, her hands journeyed downward over his chest and belt until they encountered that familiar bulge in the front of his pants. She began to stroke and fondle him through the fabric until they both moaned.

Suddenly, Vincent pulled back a little then dropped to his knees. The abrupt move temporarily disoriented Catherine. "What...." She fought her way through a haze of passion to gain some hold on reality. "Vincent?"

Looking down, she watched as Vincent gently kissed and stroked her stomach. And once again, she could see the pain in his eyes. She reached down and pressed his head against her stomach then stroked his hair as a mother would comfort a child. Tears burned her eyes as she felt his anguish through their bond.

The movement of his hands refocused her attention. They had moved from her stomach and were now gliding up and down her thighs in long, slow strokes. She shivered with pleasure as he finally cupped her buttocks and squeezed firmly.

Vincent groaned and sat back on his heels. "I can't wait long enough to go back to our chamber but I cannot bear the thought of you lying on this cold, dirt floor."

She had to chuckle. "I'm not going to be on the bottom this time — you are. It will be a while before my stomach can stand the pressure."

His response was a gentle touch to her abdomen. "I give myself to you completely, Catherine. Just tell me what you want me to do?

"I want you to undress me," she responded softly.

Her words had a profound and visible effect upon him. Their eyes met and the passion only they understood flared brilliantly between them. Then, without speaking a word, Vincent began to remove Catherine's shoes and pants. Once she had stepped out of the garments, he tearfully looked at the scar then once again touched it.

"I'm so sorry," he cried.

Then, in a gesture that brought tears to her eyes, Vincent leaned forward and kissed the scar repeatedly until he had covered the length of it with kisses. She was now totally consumed with desire. Carefully, she lowered herself to her knees then pulled her sweater over her head and tossed it to one side. Her bra was the last article of clothing to be removed and discarded.

Vincent looked at her then, not as the mother of his child, but as the woman he desired. Her breasts were not the source of nourishment for their child, but were objects of his desire. He wanted to fondle them and take them into his mouth. Before he could, however, Catherine reached over and began to unfasten his belt. He helped her free himself then sat back on his heels again — waiting.

To Catherine, he looked so vulnerable like that and she just couldn't resist. Her hands were trembling with desire as she reached over and began to stroke him. With a moan, his eyes closed and his head tilted backward in a display of sheer ecstasy. He allowed her touch to continue to arouse him then he reached over, grasped her waist, then lifted and pulled her until she straddled his thighs.

Feeling his muscular thighs between her legs nearly drove her to the edge. The ache was almost unbearable. She rose to her knees to position her full and heavy breasts closer to his mouth. She needed to share that particular intimacy with him once again.

It was a need Vincent recognized and greedily fulfilled. To be completely honest, he needed it as badly as she did. That intimate act was not only a means of sexual stimulation, but an act of sharing and completion on a level beyond the physical. Perhaps it was related to some deep feeling of abandonment he experienced as a child and Catherine, in sensing that, used the almost maternal act to heal that trauma.

The warm insistent tugging of his mouth and the rhythmic kneading of his hands quickly fueled the fires of her passion. Every nerve ending tingled, her skin became excruciatingly sensitive and warm, her heart was pounding, and the need for complete union grew with every labored breath. Her hands kneaded his shoulders and stroked his back as his attention to her breasts continued. When he finished, he pulled back and looked up into her eyes. The desire she saw there fed her own and she lowered her mouth to his for a lingering, deep kiss that provided her with a taste of the nectar Vincent had so hungrily taken.

As the kiss continued, she slowly rubbed her body against his in an up and down motion. She fought to remain in control but it was becoming a losing battle. Tearing her mouth away from his, she gasped for breath then whispered in Vincent's ear, "I'm ready. Now."

In response, Vincent reached between them and guided himself carefully to her entry and hesitated. That moment of hesitation was more than she could bear. The need to complete the act overpowered her control and she lowered herself onto him slowly. The intrusion caused pain as she opened herself up to him and she gasped.

"Catherine'?" Vincent called out as he began to pull away.

"No — just give me a second to adjust." She concentrated on relaxing her muscles until the pain eased then she accepted more of him. That process continued until little by little, they were completely joined. The burning pain turned into fiery pleasure as she began to move her hips in a slow rhythm that produced more pleasure. With each stroke, the rhythm became faster and more frantic. They entered a world of pure sensation, moaning with pleasure as they sought that pinnacle of ecstasy awaiting them.

Catherine was well aware of the fact that Vincent was carefully letting her set the pace. He was allowing her to control the speed and depth of his thrusts and she was amazed at his control. Finally, all control was lost and the tension between them exploded into a rainbow of ecstasy. The powerful orgasm left Catherine completely helpless and drained of energy. She collapsed into Vincent's arms as she felt his release.

For the next several seconds, they were lost in the warm afterglow of their loving. The only sounds they heard were the beating of their own hearts and their labored breathing but slowly those sounds calmed into their usual rhythm. She could feel him nuzzling her shoulder and wrapping his arms more completely around her for comfort and warmth. Somehow, she found the strength to lift her head and whisper in his ear, "I didn't break now did I?"

"No," he moaned in a deep, passion-filled voice. "I love you, Catherine and I'm sorry I hurt you."

"The pleasure was worth the pain. Besides the discomfort is temporary. Every time we make love, there will be less pain. So — we've just got to make love as often as we can."

Catherine felt and heard him chuckle. "You won't get an argument from me."

* * * * * *

Later that afternoon, Vincent and Catherine returned to their family. The walls between them had been torn down and the entire community could sense that all was finally well. Father took one look at them and just smiled. Charlie, who happened to be visiting when they returned, saw the change immediately and hugged his sister. She pulled him aside as Vincent greeted the children.

"From the look on your face, I'd say all went well," Charlie commented.

"VERY well. We're going to be all right, Charlie."

He smiled warmly. "You resigned. Are you sure that was what you wanted?"

"Yes. I need some time for myself and for my family. I'll probably go back someday but until then, here is where I'm needed. Here is where I want to be."

"Okay, sis. As long as you're happy, so am I. Take it easy, okay?"

"I'll try."

Vincent walked over to them and handed the baby to Catherine. He then reached down and picked up Katie. Jacob leaned against his mother's side. "Let's go home," Vincent said as he looked into Catherine's eyes.

She smiled back at him. "Yes. Let's go home."

* * * * * *

As they lay in bed that night, Vincent read one of Catherine's favorite poems.

"Love and Harmony combine,

And around our souls intwine,

While thy branches mix with mine,

And our roots together join.

Joys upon our branches sit,

Chirping loud, and singing sweet;

Like gentle streams beneath our feet

Innocence and virtue meet."1

1 ‘Love and Harmony combine’ by William Blake

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