Chapter 14
He moved as if to lift her in his arms, but she stopped him.
"I'll walk!"
"Catherine, are you sure it's safe?" he worried "I'd rather take you to Father as fast as possible!"
She smiled reassuringly. "We have plenty of time! Walking will do me good, and might even help things along.." She saw he wasn't convinced and went on. "I promise you I won't be heroic, Vincent. If it becomes too difficult I'll let you carry me!"
Vincent yielded reluctantly and offered her his arm, promising himself that at the first sign of distress from either Catherine or the child, he'd take immediate action.
They walked in silence for a while, both the recent past and close future giving them much to think about, the enormity of what had transpired between them surpassed by the even greater importance of what lay ahead.
Vincent's mind was reeling. His life was taking a turn he hadn't even dared imagine until very recently. Not only had the woman of his dreams willingly, joyously agreed to commit herself to him, but he would soon have a child he could call his own. A child to love, raise and care for, with Catherine at his side. A family! Part of him wondered what were those revelations Catherine had seemed so eager to make and he suspected they might not all be pleasant to hear. But he vowed he wouldn't let them spoil the happiness they had found. The past was... past. It was nothing.
Catherine too was thinking of all the things she hadn't had time to tell Vincent. As if her child hadn't wanted her to speak, she mused. Did you make me wait so you can tell him yourself, Little One? The more she thought about it, the more certain she was that Vincent would know as soon as he held his child. There might be some difficult moments but they would be together, and their present happiness would prevail over the wounds of past.
She felt a new contraction approach and stopped walking, clutching Vincent's arm.
"Catherine?"
"Another one!"
"Do you want to sit down?"
"No. Just hold me."
This time Vincent didn't only feel the child's panic, he also clearly felt Catherine's pain as the contraction grew and peaked well beyond the previous one. He saw her face tighten with it, then relax as she remembered her Lamaze training and took several deep breaths, until it was over and she leaned against him in relief.
"Catherine! There was pain! I... felt it!"
He was slightly taken aback when her reaction was to grin broadly up at him. "You did? You... felt what I felt? Oh Vincent it's wonderful!"
He stared at her in wonder, but dismissed the question coming to his lips. He had more urgent issues to address.
"Catherine, please, let me... "
She nodded. "I don't think I can do much more walking. Take me back, please."
In a second she was in his arms, safe and secure as he walked as fast as he could toward the main chambers. On the way they met Jamie.
"Catherine? What happened?" the girl worried.
"It's started." Vincent answered curtly. "I'm taking her to the hospital chamber, would you please find the nearest pipe and tell Father?"
Jamie nodded and ran ahead. Within a minute the pipes were alive with the frantic message and the answers from Father and Mary, soon followed with good wishes and encouragements coming from everywhere. Along the way they got warm smiles and more kind words, and Vincent got the strange, disturbing impression that they were aimed as much at him as at Catherine. How could people know?
Father and Mary were waiting in the hospital chamber, where a bed was prepared for Catherine. Vincent gently laid her down on it and remained there, hesitant. Maybe he should leave her now, but he didn't want to. He took a reluctant step away, but Catherine's hand clutched his.
"Please don't leave, Vincent! I need you with me! Ooooh!"
A new contraction hit her, hard, and he did what he could to help her and the child through it, sharing the pain and fear fully, never leaving her eyes. When it was over he looked up and saw Father and Mary, hovering close.
"I will stay, Catherine!" he promised, looking at Father with a touch of defiance. To his surprise, the older man only smiled and shrugged.
"Of course you can stay, Vincent. How close are the contractions?" he asked Catherine, but it was Vincent who answered.
"About ten minutes, and the last two were very strong and painful."
"He felt them!" Catherine said with a somewhat smug smile.
Vincent saw Mary and Father exchange a glance and nod. They didn't seem to find that strange at all, but he did! What was this all about? Was the…connection he seemed to have with Catherine something they were familiar with and he could not remember? Did it have something to do with what Catherine had wanted to tell him?
Not now! There would be time for questions, and hopefully answers, later. Now Catherine needed his support and full attention. He remained at her side, looking away in slight embarrassment while Mary helped Catherine undress and slip on a gown. One detail intrigued him. Why did Catherine have that worn leather pouch under her clothes? He'd never noticed it before, but it was probable that she'd had it at her neck all along, and she seemed somewhat reluctant to part from it. Was it some kind of talisman?
Mary carefully lay the pouch on the neatly folded pile of Catherine's clothes. Then she examined her, while Father took her blood pressure and listened to the baby's heart. When they were finished Vincent looked anxiously at them.
"It's started, and progressing quite fast, it would seem!" Mary said.
"The baby seems perfectly all right!" Father added. "Now we just have to wait."
Wait. Vincent had often thought of himself as a patient person, but the hours, the minutes, the very seconds seemed to drag along forever, as contraction after contraction seized his beloved's delicate body, piercing her with almost unendurable pain, with less and less relief from it as time passed. He considered a gift to be able to share that pain with her, but wondered how that tiny woman could stand it. She was so brave, smiling at him during the brief moments of respite, breathing scrupulously as she had been taught and relaxing as the pain went through her. Even stronger than the pain Vincent could feel Catherine's deep happiness, and it helped him fight the dark fear lurking deep inside him. Women sometimes... died in childbirth, and here Below Catherine didn't have all the modern facilities she would have had Above... Nooo! He must not think about that! Everything was all right! Father, Mary, and Lena who had joined them said so. Peter, who had rushed down from Above as soon as he'd had the news, said so too. Catherine said so. Everything would be all right!
Another long, deep, gut-wrenching wave. This time Catherine couldn't help a moan, and the frantic fear coming from the baby was now a continuous current.
"Father!"
"Yes, Vincent?"
"Isn't there anything you could give her?"
"I don't need anything!" Catherine protested.
"For different reasons it wouldn't be wise." Father added.
"But it's been six hours, now!" Vincent pointed out.
"And she's almost there!" Mary said "It's not bad for a first child!"
"I was in labor for much longer than that!" Lena reminded him.
Catherine smiled at him and squeezed his hand. "Poor Vincent! Fathers don't usually experience it so literally! Oooooh!" she suddenly screamed
From then on things seemed to accelerate. Soon part of the bed was removed and Catherine's feet placed in barbaric-looking stirrup-like devices. Catherine was taking short, rasping breaths, digging her nails into his hand. Mary encouraged her to push while Lena held herself ready.
Catherine's body tensed several times in tremendous effort, and suddenly Vincent felt a huge relief as Lena, with Mary's help, eased the baby out of her body to lay it on her stomach.
"A boy!" Mary announced.
Vincent's heart nearly stopped as he looked down at the newborn. The small, squirming body was perfectly shaped, and it was most definitely a boy, but what shocked him was the face. The child had a flattened, kitten like nose, slanted eyebrow lines, high cheekbones, and a delicate cleft was perfectly visible in the upper lip as the tiny mouth opened wide for a deep first breath, soon followed by a loud, healthy wail.
Vincent stared wordlessly as Father cut the cord and took the baby to put him in the towel Lena was holding. He felt a powerful wave of joy overcome him and his eyes left the child to meet Catherine's triumphant smile.
"Isn't your son beautiful, Vincent?" she asked in a weak, but serenely happy voice.
He gazed into her eyes. "My... son? Oh Catherine, what..." he started, but was shoved aside by Mary.
"Later, will you, Vincent? She isn't quite finished yet. Come on, Catherine, just one more push, for the afterbirth! Then we'll see if there has been any damage we should repair."
Vincent moved out of the way, looking toward the table where Father was taking care of the baby, with Peter's eager help. The child squirmed and screamed as he was being duly cleaned, weighed, measured and examined, and Vincent could feel his discomfort. It's all right, little one, it won't last for long. he reassured his son....His son! Of course, how hadn't he guessed? Thinking back he could now see the many clues over the last months that could have led him to this conclusion, if he had been able, or willing, to put two and two together... So he and Catherine had been... lovers! When and how had that happened? How could he have forgotten an event of such magnitude? At least he understood now what had hurt Catherine so much!
He felt a gentle pressure on his hand and looked down to meet her slightly worried eyes. "Are you all right, Vincent?"
He smiled to reassure her. "Yes, I am. Just a little... overwhelmed, maybe!"
"I should have told you before!"
"You did try... All those things you wanted to tell me... Oh Catherine, I want to know!"
"You will!" she promised "But the first thing I want you to know is that it was worth it! More than worth it!
While Mary and Lena finished taking care of Catherine, Father deftly diapered and dressed the little boy, wrapped him in a warm blanket and looked at Peter with shining eyes. "I feel as if I've been brought back thirty-five years!"
Peter nodded, his own tears brimming, and Father turned to Vincent." You looked exactly the same, but you were smaller, and sick. Your son is in perfect health, Vincent. A big, almost 9 pound boy, Catherine dear!" Father added, depositing the newborn into her waiting arms.
As soon as he felt the contact, the child stopped wailing. "Hello, my love!" Catherine crooned, smiling tenderly down at her miracle baby. He was perfect, exactly as she had imagined, hoped he would be. The living image of his father.
"Catherine!"
She looked up to meet Vincent's intense, questioning gaze. The time for explanations had come...Then a tiny sound came from the baby, and for the first time he opened his eyes. Eyes an extraordinary vivid shade of blue met other eyes just as blue, and Vincent's head began to spin. He fell to his knees with a growling moan. Father and Peter rushed to him, but Catherine's quiet voice stopped them. "He's remembering."
Through their now wide open connection, Catherine could feel the whirlwind of emotions hitting Vincent as all his lost memories tumbled back on him. The important things and the meaningless ones, the happy moments and the tearing pains, all the hope and the despair, the love and the madness. Once more she felt the darkness rise, but this time she knew it was powerless to challenge the light as both she and the child were at Vincent's side, giving him the strength to face it and find his way through the wild currents raging all around him.
Everyone in the chamber stood still and silent, waiting. Finally Vincent stirred and his eyes left his son's to settle on Catherine, bright and shining with a new light.
"Oh, Catherine..."
She beamed at him, too happy to speak, and relief filled the chamber. Welcome back, Vincent!
The baby made a gurgling noise, turning his head to nuzzle Catherine's gown.
"It would seem... our son is hungry, my love." Vincent said quietly. He watched in fascination as Lena helped Catherine undo the top of her gown and settle the baby at her breast. The tiny mouth eagerly closed over the ready, taut nipple and began suckling heartily, a deep current of wordless contentment filling Vincent's connection with his newborn son. Catherine's joy and pleasure flooded through him as well, so strong that he could hardly distinguish them from his own.
He stayed there in awe, kneeling near the bed, contemplating a scene he could never have imagined even in his wildest dreams. His child, one like himself, nursing at Catherine's breast! His mind was still jumbled with the collision of recent and older memories, and he knew that sorting them all out would take time and probably be painful, but this very moment made everything all right, however winding and thorny the paths leading to it.
He knew Catherine felt the same as she smiled down at the small miracle in her arms. The serene, soul-deep happiness he sensed in her erased all trace of earlier pains, even offsetting the fatigue and soreness of childbirth, and she'd never looked more beautiful.
"Oh, Vincent, look!" she exclaimed.
He followed her gaze and saw the miniature hand clutching possessively at her breast, its nails still almost non-existent but already of a very characteristic shape. In an impulse his own hand moved to caress both the tiny fingers and the velvety skin they were resting upon, and a particular memory sprung vividly to his mind. He had touched Catherine's breasts before, had even suckled at them as his son was now doing! He had found shelter in her welcoming body, claiming it as a refuge against madness. The physical love he had for so long denied them had finally been his salvation, without a trace of the violence he'd feared, and it had resulted into the miraculous gift of life!