Some Things Never Change
by Teri

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    Catherine stared out over the balcony to the park below.  Some things never change.  Memories stirred, dark and dim, and a ragged sigh breathed out on the visible wisps of the chilly autumn air.  She clutched her thin robe about her naked, shivering body, but she couldn’t turn away from the sight below or the memories it inspired, memories of his illness, of the nightmares which had almost taken him from her forever.
     For weeks he’d struggled, but the madness had overwhelmed him at last.  Strangely enough the churning chaos and violence within him had ended that night in the catacombs, as if some deep part of himself had withdrawn to ensure her safety.  He had gone to a dark place, one she hadn’t been able to reach, not for a long time.  A deep sleep held him captive, but he was alive and her relief was so absolute that nothing else could displace it, not Father’s anxious pacing beside her throughout their vigil, and not even the still form lying on the bed before her.  He was alive.
     Somehow Peter found a reasonable excuse for Joe.  Not that she actually cared.  Nothing and no one could have taken her from his side, not then.  Not ever again, the thought whispered through her now.  A week went by, then two.  When she least expected it, she woke in the chair beside him to find him awake, staring at her with a look that made her tremble.  She clutched her robe tightly closed at the thought, another shiver lacing through her, though this one had nothing to do with the cold.
     And so his recovery began.  Summer turned to fall, and winter was nigh.  The seasons changed, but some things never did.
   “Catherine?”
     His voice took her from one spell and cast her to another, the warmth of it heating her blood even before he touched her, as she knew he would.  His hands slid slowly around her waist, his tender touch more than an embrace, more than a caress.  When his fingers met at her middle they didn’t stop there, crossing about her to hold her tight, pulling her back against his muscled length.
    “It’s cold, Catherine.”
     His voice was at her ear, his lips actually touching her, his breath warming her inside and out.
   “Come back to bed, my love.”
He pressed a kiss against the side of her neck and she smiled, her hands pressed tight to his strong arms.  How could she ever have worried, she thought lazily, her nerve endings beginning to sing another tune.  She should have known that nothing and no one could ever destroy what was between them, what was meant to be.  Some things never change.