The Rose
by Lori Lum
Some say love, it is a riverthat drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor
that leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger,
an endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower,
and you it's only seed.*
Charles Chandler held the umbrella in one hand and wrapped hisother arm around his daughter. She leaned stiffly against him, hereyes staring blankly ahead. He wished she'd scream, yell, cry, orthrow something. Just so she wasn't staring blankly into space.
The service ended and he sighed. He leaned over and gently kissedthe top of Catherine's head as the others started to dissipate. Somecame over to give their condolences; others shifted away quietly,giving him that meek, uncomfortable, "I'm sorry your wife died, thatyou now have to raise your young daughter alone, but I don't knowwhat to say" look.
Warily, he and Catherine walked towards the car. The problem washe didn't know what to say, either. He felt like Cathy acted - thatthis was some terrible nightmare and that he'd wake up with Carolinethere to comfort him and make everything all right.
He didn't want to go on. He didn't want to stand there at the wakeas other people, mostly business acquaintances, told him how sorrythey were and that the pain would get better in time. He didn't wantthe pain to get better. He wanted Caroline not to be dead.
He looked over at Cathy, and gave a wan smile. He touched her kneeto comfort her, and saw that it nearly enveloped the joint. Gods, hethought, she's to young to be without a mother. Who's going to knowabout slumber parties, makeup, boys, where to dab you perfume - allthe things Caroline had been so good at?
The car door opened and Robert stood there in his neatly pressedsuit, patiently, for them to get out. He numbly realized he hadn'teven noticed the car was stopped.
It's the heart afraid of breaking
that never learns to dance.
It's the dream afraid of waking
that never takes the chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
who cannot seem to give,
and the soul afraid of dyin'
that never learns to live.**2
He looked at Cathy in disbelief. "Why? Catherine, why would youwant to quit you job here - and all the money you're making just todo grunt work for the District Attorney's office?" His voice wasincredulous. The Catherine Chandler before the accident would neverhave told him what this one just had. And even if she had, he wouldhave taken it as a whim - something she'd do for a week or two beforecoming back to Chandler, Ross, & Carlyle.
But since she'd been back, she'd changed. Without so much as anexplanation as to where she'd been, or who had stitched her face upso professionally, she'd come back irrevocably changed. Peter Alcotthad assured her the sutures had been done by a professional, despitethey obvious, swollen scars they'd leave. She'd payed less attentionto her work, but not like this. He knew she was somewhat boredbefore. Now she seemed to have a purpose. He wanted to wish her luck,but couldn't quite bring himself to do it. He wished she'd talk tohim, explain, instead of keeping this stony, stubborn silence.
"Because, Dad, I need to. I need some type of...purpose I can'tfind here." Her arms flailed a bit as she searched for words, but theset of her jaw showed Charles Chandler all to well that she wouldn'tback down.
"Then for God's sake, Catherine, donate to charity. Lord knows youhave enough money to spare," acerbic arrogance dripped from hisvoice.
Charles could tell immediately that had been the absolutely worstpossible thing for Tom Gunther to say. And if Tom didn't, he rapidlycaught on at the next words that came out of Catherine Chandler'swell formed mouth.
"Because that's a cop out, Tom. And I'm tired of taking cop outs.Goodbye, Tom. Don't call."
She stomped out, slamming the door as she left. Both men stoodaghast, jaws on the floor. Neither had seen her that mad. Neither hadbeen on the receiving end of that side of her. And neither knewexactly how to respond.
Charles only hoped that she'd find her purpose.
And that she'd be able to talk with him if she needed.
When the night has been too lonely
and the road has been to long,
and you think that love is only
for the lucky and the strong,
just remember in the winter
far beneath the winter snows
lies the seed that with the sun's love
in the spring becomes the rose.**3
Catherine Chandler lay in bed, staring straight out intonothing.
Vincent hesitated at the chamber entrance before entering. In hishands he carried a tray, specially prepared by William, filled withfoods they knew Catherine liked. He set it down on thenightstand.
"Catherine?"
She barely moved her head. Her voice was wispy and thin when shespoke, a mere shadow of normally confident, strong voice.
"Hold me."
Vincent hesitated, then climbed slowly walked around the bed.Awkwardly he climbed in beside her, and sidled up to her small body.Carefully, timidly, he held his hand over her hip, not quite touchingit.
"Please."
The pain and need pregnant in that one word overcame hishesitation and he moved his body against hers, holding them in thespoon position. He moved his face back and forth against her hair.Having her so close, in so much pain, almost overwhelmed him. Slowly,he gathered himself.
He moved slightly so he could reach the tray. Tearing off a pieceof bagel, he dipped it in a bowl of cream cheese and held it beforeher mouth. It seemed and eternity before she took it, but eventually,she did eat it.
He closed his eyes in thanks. It was the first piece of food she'dhad in at least a day. It was a beginning, Vincent sighed. Sheallowed him to feed her, but only in the most removed, methodicalway. But it was a beginning.
Charles Chandler moved up to the bed, and brushed the back ofspectral fingers against Cathy's cheek. He then moved his gaze to theman laying against her. The gentle scene he'd just witnessed hadbrought him to tears - and left him with a sense of uneasiness.
A thousand questions ran through his mind. Two kept surfacing inthe milieu. When had she met this...man? And why, oh why, hadn't shetrusted her own father enough to tell him? The lion man cared deeplyfor her, you'd have to be six feet...well, even he could see it.
Charles Chandler watched over the next few days, as Vincent caredfor his daughter. He listened in on Vincent's conversation withFather. He mulled. He worried. He wished she'd talk - to someone,even this man-lion Vincent. Especially this lion-man Vincent.
He sat on Cathy's bed. He lay on Cathy's floor. He lay on Cathy'schair.
One night, he entered her dreams.
The next day, he watched her cry. In the arms of someone who caredfor her. He watched this man listen, and dry her tears, and escorther home. Gently, patiently, with infinite care.
Charles Chandler then faded away. Knowing, to the depths of hissoul, that she was in good hands. That there was at least one personthat would accept her, unconditionally and without hesitation. Hewasn't sure where the relationship was heading and it might face somechallenges, but the gentle soul would be there for her. And he faded,knowing not everyone is so lucky.
Dedicated to all the Vincent's of this world...
*lyrics to "The Rose" by Amanda McBrooom.
Disclaimer/Notes: The characters from Beauty and the Beastbelong to Ron Koslow, Republic Pictures, etc. I've used both them andThe Rose lyrics without permission. This story is intended forpersonal enjoyment only. *2 Verse2 takes place during the pilot;*3Verse 3 takes placeduring Orphans.