NOTES: Lyrics below are from "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face" by Ewan McCall, sung originally by Roberta Flack and more recently, Celine Dion.
The first time ever I kissed your lips
I felt the earth move in my hand
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird
That was there at my command, my love . . .
Vincent picked up Catherine's hand and held it in his own, caressing it gently. He noticed a slight rigidity in her muscles and realized that a physical therapist must be working diligently to reduce the inevitable contraction of the tendons, caused by the long months of inactivity. He glanced down at her legs; even through the covers he could see the outline of the braces which encased them, keeping her feet flexed, her achilles tendons stretched.
Pressing her hand to his lips he remembered the last time he had kissed Catherine, in her apartment, when he'd thought he was saying goodbye forever. The tears came then, tears of joy, of pain, of unspeakable gratitude. Seating himself on the side of the bed, Vincent stripped the gloves from his hands and gathered Catherine in his arms, careful not to dislodge any of the tubes and wires connecting her to the many pieces of medical equipment monitoring her condition. He held her tightly, rocking her gently, cherishing her warmth.
Catherine!
"Catherine, I'm here. Always. I won't leave until you are with me again." He closed his eyes, taking slow, deep breaths, and opened himself fully to their bond. He had been aware of a strengthening of that connection ever since entering the nursing home. Now that he was in Catherine's actual presence, touching her, it stretched between them as strong and deep as ever . . . yet strangely barren. His memories told him the bond should have been shimmering with life and love and laughter; instead, it flowed pale and quiet, with only an occasional weak glimmer of her presence breaking through.
He reached along the bond, following that faint sense, that awareness, that had been pulling at him since the previous night. Deeper and deeper he traveled, intent only on reaching the faint light gleaming in the distance. The closer he drew to that light, the stronger grew his sense of Catherine's presence. She was there - but weak, so weak.
With shattering impact, Vincent burst through the luminous circle. He found himself standing beside a huge tree. Oak, his mind supplied automatically. Glancing around, he saw that he was surrounded by trees. Their leaves rustled in the slight breeze; late afternoon sunlight filtered through their branches, flickering over his face. Maple . . . elm . . . birch . . . He knew them all. But where was Catherine?
No sooner had the thought of her entered his mind than Vincent felt a mental tugging from his right. He turned and saw, a short distance away, a small clearing in the woods. Catherine was there; he knew it. He began to run, dodging the undergrowth when he could, bursting through it when his impatience wouldn't let him take the few seconds to travel around it.
He burst into the open. Bright sunlight streamed in, unimpeded by treetops, but Vincent had eyes only for the small figure in the middle of the clearing. Catherine lay reclining against a huge log which was half-buried in the ground behind her. Her eyes were closed. The movement of her chest was barely discernible, so slow and shallow were her breaths.
"Vincent . . . where are you?" Her tone was one of hopeless yearning.
"I am here, Catherine." Vincent sank down beside her. Her eyes fluttered open. He reached for her and enfolded her in a tight embrace. "I am here!"
He drew back a little to gaze upon her, seeing her beloved face slowly become alight with incredulous joy. Catherine murmured his name, her green eyes brilliant with love-light.
"Vincent, you're here . . . I knew you'd come for me." The words came on a long, drawn-out sigh of breath.
Vincent gazed deep into her eyes. "Always." He gathered her close, fiercely, keenly aware of how precious she was to him. "Catherine, oh, Catherine!" His head dropped and he kissed the top of her head, nuzzling her soft, fragrant hair. "I thought I had lost you."
Her arms stole around his neck, and Catherine lifted her face to his. "Never!" Their lips met in a kiss which resonated with love and tenderness. Slowly they drew apart, then Vincent settled back against the log, with Catherine lying across his chest, cradled in his powerful arms. They sat basking in the warm glow of the sunlight and their togetherness.
Catherine combed her fingers through Vincent's long, luxuriant mane, marveling
at the glowing beauty of it in the sunlight, loving its texture. How could hair
so coarse be at the same time so soft to the touch? Like roughened silk.
She fanned a handful of it out from his head and slowly released it, a few golden
strands at a time, watching them float in the gentle breeze. She felt rejuvenated,
all weakness gone. Vincent regarded her with amused wonder.
"You're just as beautiful in the sunlight as I always knew you would be, Vincent. Your hair glows like amber - or sunlit honey."
Her dreamy tone made him smile. "I've often dreamed of sitting with you in the daylight. I never thought my dream would come true." He looked around them. "Where are we, Catherine? What is this place?"
Catherine smiled back. "Don't you recognize it?"
Vincent glanced at her with surprise, then took a second, more careful, survey of their surroundings. He noticed for the first time the gleam of water a short distance off. A lake! Scarcely believing what he knew to be true, he looked at Catherine.
"This is your family's place in Connecticut, the one you told me about?" he asked slowly.
Catherine nodded, then shrugged. "Well, not really, of course, but close enough. I never stopped wishing for us to go there together, so while I was waiting for you I made this." She waved one hand airily, indicating the area around them, then chuckled at the bemused expression on Vincent's face.
"You made it?" Vincent's brow furrowed. "Then, this isn't real?"
He smoothed a hand over the ground beside him, feeling the blades of grass give beneath the pressure, watching as they sprang back once his hand had passed by. Closing his eyes Vincent raised his face to the sunlight slanting in through the surrounding trees. He drank in the dying warmth, enjoying the touch of the gentle breeze, soft on his face and fragrant with the scent of sun-warmed grasses and pines. The sweet sounds of the woods filled his ears: birds twittering, crickets chirping, the rustle of leaves everywhere. Waves from the nearby lake lapped gently against the shore.
" 'What is real?' " Catherine said. He recognized the quote from the classic children's book, The Velveteen Rabbit, the book she had read at her father's funeral.
Vincent opened his eyes to see Catherine watching him with a smile on her face. Her happiness at his enjoyment hummed through the bond; her green eyes were peaceful, content. He smiled back at her, feasting his eyes on her beauty.
"I wanted to finally share it with you." Catherine added, simply.
Vincent lowered his head and rested his cheek against hers, hugging her close. "Thank you. I will treasure the memory always." The words were simple; the emotion behind them flowed from his heart directly into hers. For a timeless space they sat holding one another closely, their hearts and souls joined through their bond, now flowing rich and vibrant between them. Then Vincent raised his head. He gave a slight gasp.
"Catherine. Look." His voice was the merest whisper of sound. An expression of great wonder appeared on his face. Catherine twisted around on his lap - and understood the reason. The sun was setting on the lake.
Together they watched the light blue sky become shot through with streaks of pale pink and orange. The fluffy clouds massed on the horizon glowed radiantly white, shining incandescent gold and silver along their edges. Gradually, as the sun sank further, the delicate colors deepened, turning a dozen shades of rose and peach and blue, the bright hues repeated and reflected in the rippling waters of the lake, where low waves carried them to the shoreline. Then slowly the brilliant clouds darkened, their upper edges shading to violet and gray while the bottoms glowed with fiery color, signaling the beginning of the end of the magnificent display.
Watching, Catherine remembered another sunset they had shared together, and her eyes filled at the memory. Feeling her sudden emotion Vincent looked down in concern. "What is it?" he asked. "What makes you cry?"
"Do you remember our last sunset, Vincent - the only sunset we ever saw together?" Catherine's voice was so soft Vincent had to bend his head down to hear her words. She raised her head and her eyes sought his, her long brown lashes wet and darkened by tears. "We were in my apartment. It was during your . . . illness."
"Yes . . ." Vincent replied, slowly, frowning as he tried to sort through his tangled recollections. Although most of his lost memories had returned over the ensuing months, those associated with the days of his breakdown remained frustratingly elusive. "I remember . . . standing in front of the terrace doors. You were . . . beside me?" he ended on a questioning note, raising his brow.
Catherine nodded slowly. "I had my arm around you. Do you remember what we said? What you said?" At his shake of the head she continued in a low, unsteady voice, "You told me that you didn't know what would happen next, that it would be better if you returned Below. I asked you to promise me that no matter what happened, you would share it with me."
Her wet eyes searched his, saw the light of returning memory dawn in them. "And you looked at me, Vincent, with such desperation in your eyes and pulled me close to you, and you said, 'Whatever happens, whatever comes - ' " Catherine stopped, unable to continue.
Slow tears rose to Vincent's eyes as the memory of that evening unfolded in a tide of emotion. He relived his feelings of shame and despair - hopeless despair that this time, when he had so much to live for, he would lose his lifelong battle against his dark nature. It was that fear which had prompted his words to Catherine. Knowing, fearing that he might never see her again, he could not leave her with them still unsaid. It wasn't enough, he knew, but they were all he had to give her.
"I remember," he murmured close to her ear. His breath whispered warm against her skin. " 'Whatever happens, whatever comes . . . know that I love you.' "
Catherine nodded and slid her arms around Vincent's neck, pressing closer against his comforting warmth. Then pulling back slightly, she looked at him; her eyes were still misty with unshed tears.
"Vincent, every time we were together you told me in a thousand little ways that you loved me - with your touch, your eyes, with the tone of your voice. But that was the only time you ever said the words. I have cherished that memory."
Though her tone and her emotions were anything but accusatory, a sharp pang went through Vincent. "I know." The admission came haltingly. "Catherine, I always expected that - one day you would - meet someone . . . fall in love and find a new life, Above - the life you deserved. It was what I believed was right for you."
His eyes met hers with painful honesty. Catherine felt her heart twist and she laid her hand tenderly against his cheek. Oh, Vincent! The tears finally overflowed.
The husky voice went on. "As long as I left the words unsaid, somehow it made us - our relationship - easier, as though my pain would then somehow be less when that time finally came. But, Catherine - " his voice broke and he gave a great, shuddering gasp, "I do love you! I love you!"
Vincent clutched her fiercely as the tears streamed down his face. "When I thought you were dead - lost to me, forever - Catherine, I wanted to die. A part of me did die!" Vincent fought to get the words past the gut-wrenching sobs shaking his entire body. "Catherine - I failed you! I let them take you - and I couldn't find you - I couldn't save you!" He bowed his head and wept uncontrollably as the guilt and grief of months flooded his soul with agony.
Catherine tightened her arms, holding him closely. Her tears mingled with his, compelled by the overwhelming emotion flooding into her through their bond. Though she had guessed that Vincent blamed himself for her "death," she was appalled by the depth of his self-condemnation.
"Vincent, no. My love, no," she breathed in his ear. "No!" Shaking her hair out of her eyes, Catherine put both hands on either side of his face, forcing his head up. She leaned forward and rained soft, fierce kisses on his wet cheeks, stroking the damp strands of hair off his face. Then she kissed his mouth, tenderly.
"Vincent, please don't!" she pleaded. "It wasn't your fault! There was nothing you could do! Without our bond how could you possibly have known where I was? And even if by some miracle you had known - Vincent, that building was a fortress! Gabriel had the most sophisticated security equipment available, not to mention dozens of armed guards. You would have been killed!"
Catherine shuddered at the thought. Vincent was struck by the flatness of her statement, the absolute conviction in her voice. Her eyes, dark and wide, held his intensely.
"And then I really would have died! Vincent, it was only the thought of you that gave me the strength to hang onto life. I still don't understand how you managed to find me. That really was a miracle! Seeing you that last time, when I believed I was dying . . . being able to touch you, feel your arms around me again . . . was . . ."
She paused, searching for words, finally shook her head helplessly. "It meant more than I have words to say. And later, when I realized that I wasn't dead - Vincent, my memories of you, of us, were what kept me going, kept me striving to reach you. That and the thought of our child."
She looked wistfully at him. "How is he? I know you found him and brought him home. Somehow, I knew when that happened." She frowned slightly. "I'm not sure just how I knew though. Sometimes . . . I almost seem to remember being there. I can see Gabriel standing against the wall, and - and I'm holding a gun. Then I - I shoot him."
She shivered at the almost-memory of Gabriel sprawled on the floor with a bullet hole in his chest. With an effort she wrenched her mind away from that image. She didn't notice the perplexed, almost stunned, look on Vincent's face. "Our child, Vincent," she said again, "I want to much to see him. How is he?"
"He is well." Vincent hesitated. "We held the Naming Ceremony shortly after I brought him home . . . I named him Jacob." He searched her face anxiously, was relieved when she smiled.
"I know. I was there with you, Vincent."
Vincent touched her smooth cheek. "Yes, I felt your presence." Their eyes held for a long, tender moment.
"Jacob. Jacob Chandler Wells. It's a perfect name, Vincent." Catherine sighed. Her eyes filled again as she remembered her first - her only - sight of her son. "He was so tiny, and so beautiful. Gabriel wouldn't even let me touch him, you know."
Her voice became low and tight with bitter hatred. "He very kindly permitted the doctor to show my son to me for five whole seconds. Then he took him away. I watched them leave with our child, Vincent - and there was nothing I could do to stop them!" She was crying freely now, her hands clenched hard against Vincent's broad chest, the fabric of his shirt twisted tightly in her fingers.
"Then the doctor gave me the injection. He said I wouldn't suffer and I knew in that moment I was going to die. Vincent, I was dying - I felt myself going." She closed her eyes, took a deep, careful breath, remembering. Then she looked into Vincent's face, touching her hand tenderly to his downy cheek.
"It was just like that time I almost drowned, Vincent. I saw a white light, and I knew my parents were behind it, waiting for me. But then, all of a sudden, I knew you were there, close by. I could feel your presence, hear your voice calling me, pulling me away from the light. Vincent, you brought me back, you saved me. Somehow - I don't know how - I got off the table, and I climbed the stairs - and saw you standing there. Oh God, Vincent, I had missed you so much!"
She threw herself against his chest, her arms in a stranglehold around his neck. She felt his powerful arms around her and wanted only to stay there, locked forever in his warm embrace. "Hold me! Please hold me!" she entreated. "Tighter!"
Vincent responded with an embrace that almost cracked her ribs. She gasped, barely able to draw breath. Their bond resonated as their combined love and grief and passion passed through them in great crashing waves. Held immobile in the grip of the chaotic emotions, they clung to one another tightly, conscious only of the overwhelming rightness of being together again.
It took a while, but gradually the tempest subsided. Vincent loosened his hold just enough so that Catherine could slide back down onto his lap into a more comfortable position. Instead, she brought her head level with his. Her face was flushed and damp, and slightly puffy around the eyes, but Vincent thought she had never looked more beautiful. Without warning the unreality of the whole situation smote him a hammer-blow of doubt.
"Catherine," he begged. "This isn't another dream, is it?" His blue eyes searched hers fearfully, begging for reassurance. "To lose you - again - would destroy me. I couldn't bear it." His voice sank down to an anguished whisper.
Catherine looked at him tenderly for a long moment, saying nothing, letting their bond carry her warm reassurance to him. Then, as she felt Vincent relax, a tiny grin crossed her lips and her eyes took on a slightly impish look.
"Don't you remember, Vincent? 'You could never lose me. We could never lose each other.' " She waited expectantly for his response, and wasn't disappointed.
Vincent's eyes widened as her words ran through him with the impact of an electric shock. Those were the exact words Catherine had said to him in last night's dream after they'd made love -
Only in his dream, of course, Vincent hastened to reassure himself, as the memory of their tempestuous coupling rose to bring an embarrassed warmth to his cheeks.
Catherine's smile widened perceptibly, turning sensuous. She tilted her face closer, her eyes looking deep into his. Vincent found himself unable to look away, caught in their sultry, moss-green depths.
"Was it, Vincent?" she breathed. "Was it 'only' a dream? 'I have been with you all along.' Remember?" She paused, holding his gaze the while.
A shiver ran the length of Vincent's body as Catherine touched her lips to his and slowly, deliberately leaned into him, pressing sensuously against his chest, at the same time deepening the kiss. The feel of her mouth, warm and moist, the firm, soft pressure of her breasts, sparked an explosion of fire throughout Vincent, triggering the inevitable physical response. He shifted position as Catherine's weight on his lap abruptly grew uncomfortable, and drew back.
"Catherine," he groaned. His pulse was racing, his breathing fast and erratic. Catherine looked at him steadily, her eyes dark, drawing him deep into their smoky gaze. Vincent saw the rapid throbbing of the pulse at her neck, felt her quickened breathing. A wave of desire washed through him - her desire, sent to him deliberately through their bond.
"Vincent, I love you, only you." Her voice was soft and low, husky. "My heart has been yours from the beginning, from the first time I looked in your eyes, even though it took me a while to realize it. You once told me that we could truly be together only when we understood how large our fears were, and were able to move through them. I said then that I wasn't afraid. That was the truth, Vincent. Any uncertainty I may once have felt was dispelled long ago. The barriers to our love exist only in your mind, beloved."
She kissed him. "We loved, Vincent, in the cavern, and it was beautiful - tender and loving and passionate. The memory of it sustained me through the dark times."
Vincent drew in a deep, ragged breath. "Catherine, I still have no memory of what happened in that place. None." His blue eyes sought hers, haunted by that failure. "So often I have tried to force that recollection to my mind . . . but it would never come! Only darkness came. I don't remember!"
He clenched his hands tightly, trembling. "I had only my dreams when the dark times came . . . only dreams."
"Dreams can be very powerful," observed Catherine quietly. "They can bring comfort and healing."
Vincent shook his head. "These brought only despair. I would wake from dreams of you next to me, of sharing my life with you, and I would know they had no reality, were only empty shadows of what might have been . . . what should have been - " he drew breath tightly. "Catherine, the pain all but crushed me!"
He leaned forward, taking Catherine's face between his huge hands, and kissed her very slowly and intensely, savoring the taste and textures of her mouth, trembling as her eager response swept through him. Their passion deepened, thickened, becoming almost perceptible as they sank into its swirling depths.
Vincent whispered against her lips, "I can no longer continue on dreams alone."
"No," murmured Catherine, and drew back to see his eyes smoldering as they met hers. Slowly Vincent unclasped his cloak. Pulling it out from behind him he spread it out over the long grass, then turned to Catherine in silent query. She smiled and lay on her side on the soft covering, propped up on one elbow.
Slowly Vincent stretched his long body next to hers and gathered her close. He sighed as Catherine molded herself along his length, pressing without hesitation or shyness against his growing arousal.