CHAPTER FOUR: DREAMS

You,Vincent, come.

Youheard me approach?

Isaw you, in the waters. Oh yes, child, come look.

AllI see is ripples and reflections, the flame of the candle.

Youare your father's son . . .

Whatdo you see?

Thepast, the future - faces of the dead. Spirits seek their own level,too, Vincent, like the waters; but I'm a crazy old woman - ask theFather. Did he tell you ghost stories when you were young, child?

Ifled the headless horseman, road in Kipling's phantomrickshaw....yes....I remember Marley's ghost...

Boundby chains he had forged in life, but there are other kinds of chains,Vincent: fear, love, hate, dreams . . .

Yourworld has room for spirits, Narcissa. Catherine lives in anotherworld; a world where ghosts walk only in stories.

Areyou so sure, child? Come near. Look again. Open your eyes - lookdeep. Could such a being as this walk the world your Catherine livesin?

When the Blue Bird Sings(Written by Robert John Guttke)

Caitlandstared out into the night through the only window in her room while asingle stream of light pierced the darkness from the doorway whereBetty Carlisle stood silently observing the young woman. Caitlandmade no movement to indicate that she was even aware of the nursingsupervisor who had entered the room over an hour ago. As witheveryone and everything associated with this place, Nurse Carlisledid not really exist for Caitland. Thus, it did not matter to herwhether she was alone or not. All that remained for her weresplotches of memories that still had not coalesced to form thepicture of a whole life. But then, Caitland no longer cared aboutlife.

Shesat alone as she had for countless nights, staring with sad, vacanteyes. She seldom spoke, hardly ever acknowledged the world aroundher. Yet one could see in the eyes that she was aware. Large and moregrey than green in the reflection of the moon's pale light, her eyestook everything in, and after taking it all in, they wentblank...their light retreating inward as if to hide from the world.

Inthe two months since Caitland had awakened to find herself installedin a convalescent center for those who she knew the staff considered"the terminally hopeless," her rehabilitation had been less thanencouraging. Physically, the young woman's strength was steadilyreturning through a daily schedule of exercise and physical therapy.There were now few personal needs that she couldn't handle forherself.

Itwas Caitland's state of mind, however, that had drawn Pinewillow'snursing supervisor to stand within the doorway of her patient's room.The night shift supervisor had reported to her earlier that Caitlandwas not sleeping well. After an hour of observing her staring withoutpause into the darkness, Betty was convinced that the report had beena gross understatement. There was much more going on than mereinsomnia.

Whenshe'd first received the report, Betty had assumed that Caitland wassimply reluctant to rest any more than was absolutely necessary.Certainly that was understandable after the woman had spent thebetter part of a year in a hospital bed. That assumption, however,was discarded soon after she'd arrived in the room tonight andgreeted Caitland. For the briefest moment, the solemn woman glancedup at her, and then with no further acknowledgment, returned to hervigil beside the window.

Bettyhad no idea what her patient found so engrossing in the pitchdarkness, but this obsession was certainly not healthy. Furthermore,as nursing supervisor, she had not failed to notice Caitland'sreclusive behavior during the day and had attributed it in largemeasure to the drastic adjustments she was having to make after morethan a year of being so ill. That the same introverted behavior wasrepeated at night at the expense of much-needed was cause forconcern. Betty knew that if there was no intervention to modify thispattern of behavior, Caitland was sure to digress. Daniel remainedskeptical of her progress and still refused to notify her sponsorthat she was fully conscious. Reluctantly, Betty was forced to admitthat Caitland's present behavior would do little to refute hismedical opinion.

Asfor Caitland's memories (or lack thereof), the prevalent opinion wasthat her subconscious had blocked the memories as a way of protectingher battered psyche from some trauma in her previous life. A finaldiagnosis had not yet been issued, but the doctors seemed optimisticthat she would fully recover her lost memories. Betty knew just howdistressed Caitland was by her inability to remember, and Betty'sheart went out to this patient who had come from the brink of deathonly to be lost behind a steel door of forgotten memories.Immediately, though, she shut down those emotions, knowing thatCaitland needed far more than a bleeding heart as she continued tostruggle; if not for her life, then certainly for her identity.

Nowwith a more complete picture of Caitland's medical and emotionalstate, Betty Carlisle made a quick clinical assessment. As hermedical training and experience kicked into automatic, Betty releaseda sigh that more than eloquently expressed her frustration. She hadthe answer. All the signs were there - had been there all along ifanyone had taken the time to see. Despite her tendency to becomeoverly involved with her patients, Betty knew in her gut thatCaitland's reluctance to rejoin humanity was the result of depressionborn of an immobilizing grief. No matter what the tests indicated,Caitland was still an extremely traumatized woman whose nightmareshad not ceased merely because she'd awakened.

Aftertwo months of following Caitland's efforts to break free of thedebilitating influence of her injuries, Betty Carlisle knew herpatient was losing the battle on an emotional level that all themedicine in the world could not cure. Watching her, she felt herresolve grow firm. She recalled only as a passing thought Daniel'sadmonishment for her to maintain an appropriate professionaldetachment in overseeing Caitland's recovery. That was merely medicalmumbo-jumbo as far as she was concerned. Betty Carlisle knew that shecould not divorce her continued care of her patient from her personalinvolvement in her total recovery. Recuperating was more than justrepairing the body. It was also healing the mind, and something hadobviously broken Caitland's spirit down to its very core. It was justnot within Betty Carlisle to professionally stand by and watch herpatient's will to live slip away.

Gently,she whispered, "Caitland, I'm leaving now."

Therewas no response, and Betty had not really expected one. Vowing toherself that tomorrow she would begin the task of helping Caitlandfind the light in living again, she closed the door behind her,knowing that for tonight she was leaving her patient in totaldarkness.

Thethud of the door closing reverberated through the room as Caitlandsat up straighter in the bed, wrapping her arms around slender legsdrawn up to her chest. Even in the solitude of her self-imposed exilefrom life, she was still hauntingly beautiful. Some part of herconsciousness now whispered, she's gone, and Caitland released abarely audible sigh of relief. She had been all too aware of BettyCarlisle's presence and quiet departure. She was equally aware of thenursing supervisor's unspoken concern over her nocturnal behavior.Caitland felt no compulsion, however, to explain herself to anyone.The fact of the matter was that there was nothing to explain. Thenight simply brought her a certain tranquility of spirit that wasbeyond even her comprehension. She didn't question her attraction tothe darkness any longer. It hurt too much to do otherwise.

Ithad taken only that trauma-filled first month after her awakening forCaitland to discover that the door to unlocking her lost memoriescould not be forced open. In the quiet solitude of the room, sheallowed herself to remember all that she could. She could still tasteher fear on the day she awoke in Pinewillow...helpless and alone. Herinitial confusion had been quickly replaced with frustration at herinability to regain her past. The psychologist assigned to her casehad predicted that in the absence of physiological reasons for hermemory loss, the odds were favorable that she would one day remember.But such nebulous reassurance had brought her no comfort. Instead,she felt the rise of her anger...a penetrating fury at a world thathad left her ill and abandoned. She knew that somewhere between thehardened layers of hurt and pain, hope had not survived her ordeal -even if she had. Bitterness began to eat away at her, and she foundit impossible to look forward to her future when she had no faith inher past.

Itwas then, in the midst of her deepest despair that the first changesbegan. Tired to the brink of exhaustion and disheartened, she sat inher room one evening just as night began to descend on the worldoutside her window. Within minutes she was in the dim twilight ofdusk with only a gentle breeze from the open window as her companion.

Forreasons she had yet to understand, she found the approaching darknesscomforting. There were no questions about her past to consider, orfor that matter, her future. There were no demanding therapists,inquisitive doctors, or even concerned nursing supervisors. There wasonly the all encompassing night that enfolded her and everythingaround her in a cocoon of moonlight. She felt safe as the nightobliterated the painful reality of her presence at Pinewillow. And soshe sat quietly and allowed the peace she'd suddenly found to fillher. Completely relaxed and compelled beyond her conscious will toresist, she drifted off to sleep and into dreams.

Thatnight was the first of many where her dreams began to slowly unlockthe hidden memories of her past. Shadows of faces she had once knownand loved...strange clanging and tapping sounds, the repeated roar ofengines amidst children's laughter...a sense of protection and theconstant smell of burning oil and candles. And above all else, alwaysthere was a voice. Deeply soothing, it spoke quiet words of strengthand encouragement to her. She never questioned the voice that livedin her dreams. She only knew that over the next few weeks it becameher lifeline to coping with the stark reality of the day. Grateful,she looked forward to the darkening of the skies and prayed that thevoice would never stop, each night thereafter leading her gently intosleep and guiding her out into morning.

Pragmaticlogic argued to her that the dreams were merely the manifestation ofher need to feel secure with so much uncertainty surrounding her.Stubbornly, she ignored that inner voice. Yet, she was all too awarethat it was becoming increasingly easier for her to withdraw fromlife, preferring instead the company of her dreams and the returningmemories of happier times. This latest insight was sufficient toagain set off her internal alarms, and even the peace of the nightand the comfort of the dreams were inadequate to prevent Caitland'spractical side from asserting itself and questioning the wisdom ofher actions, if not her very sanity. It was such contemplations whichhad kept her from relaxing into her evening of solitude when BettyCarlisle dropped by.

Thethought that she might, indeed, be losing her grasp on reality hither hard. As she slumped lower into the bed, she felt the overflow oftears coursing down her face. A quickly placed pillow to her mouthstifled the moan of pure misery that bubbled up inside her.

Whatkind of mad woman am I becoming? shethought helplessly as the tears increased to a steady downpour, andwracking sobs muffled by the pillow made her body shudder. Feelingmore lost and alone than she had since the day she'd awakened in thisstrange place, she closed her eyes and silently prayed for help. Fromsomewhere deep within she felt a calm reassurance flood through herand the deep rumble of the comforting voice of her dreams telling herthat all would be well, for she was safe.

Safein this place?she thought only for the barest second, for it only took a second forher to realize that Pinewillow was not where she would find safety.It was with the person whose voice brought peace each evening to herweary heart. It was only then that she realized that love was thepower behind the voice, and she suddenly understood the enormousstrength of that love-that defied any reality she had ever known.Somehow, the force behind the voice knew of her despair, and even nowshe heard the voice clearly, growing stronger in her mind and rollingback the fear in her heart. The relief she felt overshadowed anylogic that would have had her confess that what was happening to herwas not real. She refused to crush back the only thing in her lifethat had kept her going for weeks against the emptiness in her heart.Thus, she clung stubbornly to the words, bringing them from herdreams to the here and now of her existence. It was so real to herthat for the first time she was filled with a desire for more thannightly visions. She desperately wanted to strip away the curtainthat separated the warmth of her dreams from the cold loneliness ofher reality; and she had an intense longing to know the person behindthe voice that held out the promise of love to her troubled soul.

Tonightshe didn't wait for sleep to overcome her. Instead she reached out tothe darkness and in her mind she heard the voice bid her come. It wasan invitation she needed only once, as she laid out fully upon thebed and prayed that fate and the forces that had wreaked such havocin her world would, for once, be compassionate and grant her heart'sdesire. Willing her mind to shut down, she floated on the fringes ofconsciousness. With certainty, she knew the voice was waitingpatiently for her, and as all thoughts fled before the closingembrace of sleep, she found his name: "Vincent..."                  

Throughthe hazy mist of her dream, Caitland saw herself in another life...ahappy life that she shared with another. As the fog parted, hetowered above her, a figure huge in her mind and shining golden. Thistime there were no shadows to obscure her view. He stood before herclearly, and she looked up into his face and saw wonder and loveetched in leonine features that didn't frighten her. He was sofamiliar and so beautiful to her that for the moment all she could dowas stare into the limitless depths of his eyes.

"Isthis real?" she finally whispered, fearing that even the sound of hervoice would cause this most wondrous of all her dreams to goaway.

Butto her amazement and joy, he cocked his head to one side, and repliedgently, "Reality, Catherine, is what we believe in. You chose tonightto believe in me and my love for you. Your belief brought me toyou."

"Youare Vincent?" she asked slowly.

Henodded his head 'yes' in reply.

"Andyou called me Catherine. Why?"

"Icall you Catherine, for that is who you are. Caitland is only thename you've given yourself for this place where you now exist. Butyour life was as Catherine Chandler, the woman who I loved...who I'venever stopped loving."

Itnever occurred to her to doubt his words, for her heart told her thathe spoke the truth. The emotion in his voice was unmistakable, andshe found herself falling into a well of forgotten feelings. Her eyestook in all of him as she slowly reached out her hand toward hisface. It was a simple gesture that spoke of her loneliness and evenmore, a rising force within her that had begun to remember their loveand longed for his touch. What she didn't remember, however, was thather reaching out was also an act of affection that she would havebeen hesitant to make in the life she lived before. But in this timeand place, it was the most natural thing for her to do...as naturalas when he took her outstretched hand in his own, brought it to hisface, and gently kissed her palm. It took only this light exchange oftouches, lovingly given and received by both, for her heart to open,paving the way for the memories to follow.

"Catherine,"he said warmly, "I've waited so long for this time to come."

Shethought on that for a moment.

"Waitedfor this time?...but why?"

"Toguide you back through the memories of our life together. It was alife I once thought could never be for one such as myself. But it wasyour love, Catherine - your fortitude and courage - that proved mewrong. You gave up much for our love: your friends and family, yourdreams of a happy life Above. You sacrificed everything,Catherine....everything! Your love for me almostcost you your life."

Ashe spoke, his expression was troubled, and she could see intensesadness in his eyes. Yet, even as she looked on, he shook his thickmane of hair. As it settled in shimmering waves around his broadshoulders, it was as if the specter of nightmares known only to himslipped away. It was only then that she realized the extent to whichhe suffered. Had their past been that terrible? Still, when his eyesfinally rose to meet hers, they were calm, and he simply said,"Come".

Perhapsit was the brief glimpse of his pain that made her stop, but suddenlyshe found herself hesitant. Until now, her memories had been briefand filled with the beauty of the life she had once lived. She didn'tneed him to explain that tonight she would remember something verydifferent; and reluctantly she faced a truth that had been burieddeep within: the fact that she wanted to remain ignorant - that hermemory loss was a mixed blessing in which the veil of amnesiaprotected her from a cruel reality that had brought her perilouslyclose to death. With brutal honesty, she admitted to herself that shewas a coward - hiding from that part of her past that held the key toher future, and all because she was afraid of what she might find.And now, this being from her past had risen up to insist that sheface those very same memories. Standing on the threshold ofdiscovery, she feared what awaited her on the other side andhesitantly, she told him, "I'm afraid."

Fora long while there was only silence between them, but when at last hespoke, his voice conveyed such understanding that she could actuallyfeel his strength supporting her. No matter what was disclosed, sheknew that with him she would be safe. Intently, she listened to hiswords and drew strength from his courage.

"Yourfear does not deceive you, Catherine. Our past was filled withtrials, and we have endured much. But the strength our love . .."

Sheheard the sharp intake of his breath and knew then that he wasstruggling as hard to keep his emotions in check as he was to protecthers. Despite his effort, his hands that could easily engulf her ownseveral times over, began to tremble under the strain. By sheer will,he regained his control and continued.

"Ourlove, Catherine, was worth everything... In this you must believe mewhen I tell you that the power of our love has proven greater thanthe evil that tried to destroy us. Although some of what is requiredof you tonight will be difficult to face, it is why I am here for you. . "

Beforeshe could stop herself, the bitterness that had become a constantpart of her life rose up and cut him off. "But will you be here forme in the morning?...when they poke and prod me and psychoanalyze meto distraction?...or will the light of day find me still alone andconfined to that horrid place, wondering if I need a reality check?Tell me, Vincent. Am I condemned to only hear your voice in my mindand see you in my dreams? Because if all of this was to let me knowthat you are real but forever beyond my reach, then I would have beenbetter off not ever remembering you or this love you say we onceshared!"

Shecouldn't keep the resentment from her voice, and immediatelyregretted her words when she looked into his eyes. With completeclarity she saw the war that raged within him, and what was more, sheknew that it was definitely not his choice to leave her alone.

"Catherine,it is true that you walk now within a dream, but it is a dream ofself-healing forged by our love. For this part of your journey andwithin your dream, I may be with you. But no, I cannot be here whenyou awaken!"

Thislast, he actually growled out at her between clenched teeth. To hercredit, she didn't flinch, but her mind reached out and grabbed holdof the simmering anger beneath the words. She knew the anger was bornof his frustration, but it brought forth memories of a rage that notonly had the potential to kill, but had killed...for her. Again shefound herself regretting what she'd said and would have told him,except that he was no longer looking at her. He stared past her,hands clenched so tightly that she feared his claws might draw blood.And then, as if the outburst had never occurred, he began again in avoice once more controlled.

"Catherine,even as you sleep, so does the Vincent who you loved. I am as much apart of his dream as I am yours. As your heart has traveled throughthe darkness seeking the life stolen from you, so has his heart ledhim to dreams of this place - this darkness - where you exist but areoutside his ability to reach you."

Hehesitated for a moment as he sought the words - words which he knewwould give her little comfort as she faced the morning sun alone.Then, as if not to frighten her, he reached out, taking both of herhands in his, and slowly raised them to lips. Reverently, he kissedthe back of each hand with such gentleness that she felt theprickling of tears in her eyes at the beauty of the homage he nowpaid to her. Wordlessly, she closed her eyes, knowing that herquestions had led him to a truth that was difficult for him, but shealso knew that no matter how painful, it was a truth he would speak.She was now content to listen with an open heart, and the bitternessthat had consumed her only moments before was gone.

Finally,he began again. "It has been difficult for both of us to accept thatwe could not care for you in all things as we once promised yourfather - for to protect you was our solemn oath to him before hedied. For that I shall always be sorry, as I am now - knowing that Imust leave you at this night's end. You see, Catherine, there is asmuch good in the darkness as there is danger. In my life, thedarkness has hidden and protected me....it has been my friend. In ourlife together, it was only the darkness that gave us the freedom tobe together in the world Above. And now, Catherine, the darkness hasgiven me this bridge, allowing me to come to you. But the bridge doesnot exist outside of this time we have now...I am here, because I amone with the darkness. I am that part of Vincent that can cross theboundaries of his world and yours...and in so doing, I could reachacross the barriers of time, space, and distance to be with you."

Asif to reassure them both of the truth of his words, he held her handstighter within his own, and only then continued. "In the light ofday, all that we share now is only a specter to Vincent, a distant,recurring dream that makes him grieve even more for the loss of you.But for him it must be this way. If he were toever consciously come to the reality of your existence, to understandthat you are alive and in this place, nothing would stop him. I couldnot stop him. He would move heaven and hell to come to you,Catherine, without thought for his safety or whether such a rescuewould be possible. Most assuredly he would get himself-or I suppose Ishould say, the both of us killed in the process, or even worse, hecould be caught and imprisoned. I do not fear death or the danger,but I do fear being caged. This place in which they have placed youis isolated. The terrain is all above ground, and there would be noprotection during the journey or once we arrived so far away from thetunnels and our home. After finding you again, Catherine, I have nowish to lose you to the reckless abandon of that part of me thatwould senselessly kill or be killed."

Fora moment he paused, and once again she had the feeling that he waswrestling with saying the words. A slow shudder passed through himand he looked down at her with concern. Having already surmised wherehis words were leading, she silently nodded for him to continue. Hedid. "Catherine, if we are to ever be reunited in this life, it isyou who must travel the difficult road to be by my side again...andyou will have to travel it alone. Do you understand what I'm tryingto explain?"

Stillsilent, she nodded as she felt the strong stirring ofmemories-memories that assured her of the lengths he would go to saveher. In that moment she realized that regardless of how much shelonged to leave Pinewillow, she could never jeopardize his life insuch an attempt. Some of the old Catherine shone through as theanswer crystalized in her mind and a mischievous gleam came to hereyes. With a self-deprecating smile she answered him. "If I'veunderstood you correctly, it would seem that this time I will need tosave myself."

Hardlyfooled by her bravado, Vincent merely nodded his head and waited. Heknew she had listened to his words carefully, so it came as nosurprise when confusion clouded her features, and she took a stepback, looking up at him for the first time with trepidation.

"You'vespoken of Vincent as though he were two separate people. You said,the both of you,but if the Vincent of my memories now sleeps and dreams as I do, thenexactly who are you?" she demanded.

Hepaused and looked away, and she wondered why it seemed thateverything she asked required him to pause, filtering her wordsthrough and carefully choosing his reply before revealing the truth.Had their relationship been that strange? And as he turned back toher, she knew the answer. It had been standing before her all alongin his wondrous, yet undoubtedly leonine features - features which,until that moment, had not appeared strange or alien to her, onlyfamiliar and comforting.

Liftingher eyes to his, she found herself mesmerized as she sensed, morethan saw, the transformation of his persona, bringing a wildness tohim - an intensity that had not been present before. Catherine stoodabsolutely motionless, effectively paralyzed under his gaze that wassuddenly more predatory than comforting. Perhaps it was because whilehis eyes still told her plainly of his love, they now also spoke toher of something more primal. Under his unwavering appraisal, theheat of his body radiated an aura of masculinity that surrounded her;and desires, long suppressed, rose up from the very depth of herbeing. She had a sudden urge to touch his face-to trace the uniquefeatures of his lips and run her hands along the width of hisshoulders. Longing, almost painful in its sudden intensity, filledher, as the blue of his eyes glittered like shards of glass in thedarkness. Her awareness of him intensified, and she was certain thathe could sense every emotion, feel every desire of her heart. Yet,with a courage she hadn't realized she possessed, she met his gazeopenly, refusing to hide, allowing him to feel how his presence wasaffecting her, allowing him to know that she desired him. And then itburst through: all the memories that had been gradually pushingagainst her consciousness. Her breath caught in her throat, and sheclosed her eyes against the onslaught of images. Perhaps she swayed,for she felt his hands gripping her arms, supporting her.

"Youask who I am, but you already know me," he said in a low voice thatstripped away the veneer of civility and left her all too aware ofhis maleness. Warmed by the timbre of his voice, she realized thatshe did know him-she had always known him on an elemental level thatdefied logic and relied only on instinct and feeling. On that plane,she suddenly recognized, he was not a stranger, but the other half ofher heart and soul. Deep within, where hope had barely survived, thememories began to come forth, telling her of a love, limitless in itscommitment but complicated by constraint and fear.

Thefaint frown that suddenly marred her expression alarmed Vincent, buthe also sensed that she had finally opened herself to the memories oftheir existence together. In the face of his fear that she might notcomprehend the complexity of his nature and their relationship, hefound himself unable to hold back the truth any longer. If they wereto ever be reunited, he needed her to not only accept him, but toacknowledge his rightful place in her life. Yet, with the same calmtone that belied his uncertainty and inner turmoil, he told her.

"Iam Vincent, Catherine - that part of Vincent who knows what it is totruly love you - but whereas his world is of light, mine is ofdarkness. I am one and the same with him and he is me...no matter howmuch he has rejected that fact in the past. I am the part of hispsyche that he learned to fear and hate, but I am also what hashelped him to endure this time apart from you. I am the courage heneeded to rescue his son, and the strength and rage he called upon toprotect you and his family from those who sought to do you harm. I amthe essence of his passion; the primal need of a male for his matethat he tried so hard to ignore and even harder to subdue."

"Fearled him to believe that should he permit himself even the slightestexpression of his love for you, he would somehow harm you. For allthat he has become a remarkable leader and protector of the worldBelow, when it came to loving you and trusting himself, he was afool. And it may have continued that way if circumstances had nottaken the decision out of his hands - and placed it into yours.Catherine, it was me you were with in the cave...that night. Youcame to me, prepared to face death at my hands, to sacrifice yourlife to bring me back from a vortex of self-hate. And so you broughtyour courage and your love, like a beacon cutting through the fog ofmy insanity. You defied death, Catherine, for my sake; and for thesake of your love, I refused to let him die. I wouldn't die!"

Hisvoice had not risen, but its intensity reached out to her, easing theshock of his revelations. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and droppinghis hands from her shoulders he stood silently before her for untoldmoments, submitting himself to her piercing gaze and allowing her tocome to terms with the truth of his words. He had no idea if thepresent Catherine could embrace what he was without reservation, asshe once had. Indeed, if she could not bear to accept him, he knewall was lost. The truth could no longer be put off. Simply, withCatherine now awake, he was unsure for how long he could continue toshield her presence from his own consciousness. Yet, he had seen thedawning recognition in her eyes and knew her memories were bearing atruer witness to their past than he could ever hope to convince her.It was all up to her now - and he silently prayed that the lovethey'd shared could endure this final test. Taking a deep breath tosteel himself against the very real possibility of her rejection, heplunged on.

"Searchthe depths of your heart, Catherine. You saw the worst in me andstill you came to me that night. It was in your arms that I foundabsolution, and surrounded by your love, I discovered my humanity. Inmaking love with you, I experienced the ultimate passion and thegreatest joy in being a man. And even more than that, by giving youeverything that I am, you in turn gave me a gift I treasure above allothers: a son. Catherine, we created life that night. We have ason."

"No,"she whispered. "I would remember. . ."

"Butyou doremember, Catherine. Don't be afraid to open yourself to our past -for while there was pain, there was also much love - for each other,for the entire community Below and your friends Above. I know you,Catherine Chandler, and you do remember love - our love."

Stilltrying to grasp all that she'd been told, she stammered helplessly,"How is this possible?"

"Catherine,no being - even one such as myself - can forever exist at war withinitself. Your acceptance of all that I am brought together the warringhalves of my soul as no other force could, healing the rift that wasliterally tearing me apart. Perhaps that is why our memory was lostwhen we first awoke in the cave. At that time it was as if we'd trulybeen reborn. Still, what you began with the gift of your lovecontinued. It brought about in me a transformation, Catherine - afusing together of my disparate personalities. We were finally atpeace. Over the months that followed, my physical body recoveredcompletely, and more slowly the personalities began to merge. On mypart, the shock of joining with my other half gave way to myunderstanding of what had happened to me; of all that had occurredduring the weeks I stayed with you in your apartment; of everythingthat we shared in the cave. By the time I was fully aware, though, itwas too late. You had been abducted, and my connection to you wasgone, interrupted by our child that you were carrying."

"Istill can't explain why I was the one to first regain completecontrol. Yet with those memories as my guide, I have waged a newbattle within: the battle to keep your presence hidden from myconscious persona. What you should understand, Catherine, is thatdespite my coming to you tonight as the dark personality of Vincent,we are one now. We are whole. Deep within I found the strength toscreen your presence and tonight, with your memories on the brink ofrecall, our bond finally opened enough to guide me to you. I suspectthat this division - where I am still able to separate from theVincent you know - has only occurred because of my desperation tolocate you for the sake of my survival."

Atthis she stopped him and asked, "Vincent, what has happened toendanger your survival?"

Althoughhis hair now concealed his face from her, she still heard his answerclearly:

"Why,you, Catherine."

Nowit was her turn to lower her head, and her hair that had grown pasther shoulders fell like a curtain around her, shielding her features.Barely above a whisper, she said, "Tell me."

"Catherine,you are believed to be dead by all who love you. Without the bond,Vincent watched you slip away in his arms, not sensing that you hadnot crossed over into death. Now after more than a year, his griefstill overwhelms him. He has continued this long only for the sake ofour son, Jacob. Yet, his guilt in not saving you-his regret over thetime wasted in fear of the love he so wanted to share with you - hisanger at himself for not being there for you when you needed hisunderstanding. This, and so much more, consumes him with the dawningof each new day."

Blinkingback the tears that threatened to spill upon hearing of Vincent'spain, she whispered "Didn't he believe that death had no dominion after all?" And to herastonishment, she heard Vincent laugh for the first time.

"Isee you are remembering more and more with each second that passes.But to answer your question, yes, he did believe. That I amwith you now is testimony to his faith that death had no dominionover love. But in the physical world of his existence, he saw youdie. Thatis a hard reality for anyone to reject. And yet, within his heart, hehas never stopped loving you; and in his dreams, you live. For now,he remains unaware of my part in keeping your life force hidden fromhis perception, but even I can't control his dreams, Catherine. Thosedreams tell him that you live outside his ability to reach you, andit is inevitable that eventually he will reason it all out - as Idid. Then he will know as a certainty what now he only believes ishis imagination. If he comes to that understanding before you cancome to him on your own, I fear there is nothing I will be able to doto stop him from leaving the safety of Below, other than to lend mystrength to his search for you."

Shebelieved his words, and along with her newly regained memories, itwas as though a veil had been lifted from her view. She remembered ahundred nights with Vincent - and one night in particular - rolled upinto a single image of love. She also now comprehended the magnitudeof the risk he had taken in coming to her tonight: not only the riskof awakening in Vincent the truth of her existence, but holding outhis love to her without any assurance that she would accept him.Looking up at him, she smiled. "Vincent, thank you for loving me sovery deeply. Thank you for your faith in our love against all theevidence to the contrary, and thank you for always being there forme. You were right, I do remember the dream we shared, and inremembering, I know that you never failed me. You've always been mysavior, my hero. And more than anything, I want to leave this placeto be with you and our son. Vincent, I want our dream."

Reachingout, she touched his brow and gently smoothed away the worry linesthat revealed his uncertainty. "Don't look so troubled, my love. Myheart is still yours, bonded to you - to all of you - for all time."

Asshe spoke, she saw that he understood her decision - that withoutreservation she had once again embraced him, their love, and thedream of a life together. Her smile grew wide with pure joy as shewatched the look of amazement cross his features. He then shook hishead slightly, as if testing his grasp of a reality where the womanbefore him, his Catherine, now remembered him and still chose to lovehim. Holding out his arms, he gasped with pleasure as she flungherself into his embrace. Vincent felt the power of their love like atangible force, enfolding them in its protection and bracing themagainst the remaining truth which Vincent knew he must nowimpart.

"Catherine,our love has brought us together tonight, and it will again. And eventhough I must leave you soon, it need be only for a short space oftime. You have within you my spirit and the strength of our love tosustain you in this ordeal. Only one thing remains. You must have thecourage to face the truth of what happened to you which failed to endyour life but nearly crushed your spirit. Catherine, you must let goof that fear. Then you'll be prepared to meet any obstacle that mayface you in coming back to me and our son."

"Whatis there left for me to face?"

"That,Catherine, is also why I am here." He paused and looked away. Sheknew that he was thinking of the time that was against them,calculating what was left of the night before the first rays of thesun would force him to leave her alone once more. Bringing hisattention back to her, he said quickly, "My time with you growsshort. Will you let me lead you through the darkness?"

Immediately,those familiar words took her back to a windy passageway, echoing theexcitement of many excited voices and filled with the image of himmore beautiful that she had ever imagined. The love that shoneplainly in his eyes anchored her, and she returned it in fullmeasure. "Vincent, with you, there is no darkness. Lead me whereveryou will."

Thebarest hint of a smile flickered across his face, and wordlessly, helowered his head to hers. The warmth of his breath feathered acrossher face, just before he gently kissed her. The chaste pressingtogether of their lips started out as the most beautiful sensationCatherine had ever known. However, it failed to fill the need ineither one of them, and at the tentative touch of Vincent's tongue,begging for entrance, it rapidly changed to a hunger that neithercould turn away. Eagerly, she opened her mouth to his, and wasrewarded by a low growl of satisfaction that broke the silence as histongue slipped between her lips. With a boldness that she foundexhilarating, he began to explore the moist warmth of her with arhythmic abandon that left her moaning deep in her throat. Her handsclung to him for dear life, for she no longer trusted her legs tosupport her; and within the all encompassing pleasure of his kiss,Catherine felt herself lifted from time and space, floating on thestrength of a love so complete that the last vestiges of despair andhopelessness faded away.

Gradually,Vincent pulled back, breaking the kiss. And even as his body trembledwith the force of his need to possess her, he felt the heightenedintensity of their bond and knew that in pulling away he was leavingher both aroused and bereft in the whirlwind of their passion. Yet itcouldn't be helped. Vincent watched the flush of desire inCatherine's expression and knew the same was mirrored on his ownface. Still he did not resume the kiss, and instead just waited. Inwhat were mere seconds in real time, Catherine's eyes widened insurprise as she saw her past laid out before her. The images in hermind brought forth memories of the man who now held her arms in hisarms. She saw Vincent as a friend, confidant, and protector amidst apast life of injustice, crime, and danger. Instinctively she knewthat in the not so distant past, it had been his arms holding her;protecting her with his body; and using his unique gifts in herdefense. It had been the fire of his faith in mankind that had warmedher when the world was cold. It was his strength that had kept hersafe, time and time again. It was his compassion and love that hadsustained her during the darkest times in her life; and it was hisvoice, with its deep timbre of understanding, that had spokenencouragement to her anguished heart during the months since she hadawakened from her illness. He was her life and her reality. Then,abruptly, the visions ceased.

Throughthe heavy cloak that Vincent wore, she felt the ragged rise and fallof his breathing. With the same insight that had led her tounderstand so many truths that night, she realized that their kisshad been the catalyst through which Vincent had shared those memorieswith her. A fierce protectiveness was in his eyes, and she felt hishold tighten around her. For some reason that she couldn't place, shefelt an answering need to calm and reassure him. Softly shewhispered, "I'm alright, Vincent. You told me these were the memoriesof our past...so they can no longer hurt us. Right?"

Hishold lessened then, and time seemed suspended as again he lowered hishead to her. Gently, he told her, "Yes, Catherine. The memories canno longer hurt us, and as always, your courage humbles me. Hold metightly now, and know that I love you."

Thistime, as his lips touched hers, the attraction was immediate. Shefelt the power of his love like a live wire that set her body aflamewith desire. The very maleness of him resonated in the depths of herbeing, and she could feel the incredible energy that throbbed throughhis body. Willingly, she drowned in the feel and taste of him untilnothing else existed except the desire to completely immerse her souland body with his. The tighter he held her, the wider the floodgatesof their bond opened, allowing her access to his heart, his thoughts,his memories. He crushed her hungrily against him, so close that shefelt the rhythm of her life force link with his until they became onebreath, one heartbeat, one soul. The world had fallen away under anavalanche of buried feelings, and her love for him, so secretlyguarded for so long beneath the layers of her subconscious, openedunder his passionate caress. Then ever so slowly, his hold on hereased and once again he gently pulled away.

Eyeswide in amazement, she swallowed hard and whispered, "My God, whatwas that?"

"It'sour love, Catherine. I told you of its power."

"Andis it 'always' like that?"

Vincentsmiled ever so slightly, but answered her. "Catherine, there were sofew times in our past that my other half allowed himself the freedomof kissing you that I wouldn't profess to know what 'always' is like.But based on kissing you now and what you're making me feel - yes, Isuspect that for us it will 'always' be like this."

"That'sincredible," she said, grinning. "You're incredible!"

Still,he knew no words could ever describe what they had experienced ineach other, and so he simply nodded in understanding and held out hishand. "Come, Catherine. Time grows short."

Thus,hand in hand and with him by her side, she faced the memories. As shewatched, a mist-shrouded picture unfolded in which she saw herselfpull Vincent's inert body onto her lap. The apartment she knew hadbeen hers, and the time was of another shared memory of days gone bywhen she had struggled to keep Vincent from passing away from her. Hehad always been her strength, caring and protecting her in allthings. But in this, his mortal struggle for survival, it had beenher arms that comforted him; her words that had calmed hisnightmares; and her hands that had bathed his fevered brow. Evendeadly with feral rage, he could not bear to harm her. And yet,despite all she had done, it had not been enough to stop the madnessor to keep him from fleeing to the farthest depths Below, determinedto die apart from her.

Now,reliving that time, she remembered the heaviness of his weight andhow he had stared at her with eyes glazed over in fever and fear.More than that, she remembered the hopelessness she'd felt as he'dfought, weakened and delirious, against the dark force that wasinside him. If only he'd known then what he knew now: that hissalvation was in embracing his other side, rather than fighting it.If only he'd been able to heal the wounds of self-hate, she thoughtsadly.

Sheclosed her eyes, and her despair reached Vincent. For the first timesince the sharing of their memories had begun, he felt her couragefalter. Releasing her hand, he pulled her closer to him, holding herfirmly within his embrace and insulating her as best he could againstthe images. Catherine understood now that these were the events thathad led to her losing everything. That was why he had wanted to bewith her. She looked up into his eyes, and his emotions that hadalways been so guarded in her remembrance of him, were naked to hernow. His love was like a physical force supporting her, and sheburied herself deeper within his embrace.

Kissingher hair, he whispered, "Truly these images are only of our past,Catherine. I survived because of you... because in the darkest hourof my life, you never doubted my humanity and embraced even that inme which we both know is not human...and you shared it all with me.Let the memories flow. They cannot harm us now."

Sheaccepted his encouragement without a word and rested her head on hisshoulder. She was determined not to turn away from her past, nomatter how difficult. Still within his arms, she turned away from himto face outward and saw within the thinning mist the faint outline ofa cave. She could no more control a sudden shudder at the sight anymore than the gasp that escaped her lips; and even as his armstightened around her, she knew his words had not prepared her forwhat she suspected was to come.

Withinthe cave, Catherine saw his form pacing furiously like a trappedanimal. With a jerk, he paused and released a horrifying howl ofincomprehensible rage. Spent for the moment, he fell to hisknees.

"Oh,Vincent," she whispered, and as if the apparition of the mist hadheard her, he raised his head. She looked into wild savage eyes thatheld no glint of his humanity. There was only the Other - -thewounded animal who now roared as clawed hands tore ruthlessly at hisclothes. Within seconds the hooded cape was flung to the ground andhis white tunic hung in shreds. Angry red welts marred his body wherehis claws had heedlessly ripped into flesh. The power of death thatVincent's dark side wielded with exacting judgement had turned onhim, and with a final heart-wrenching cry of frustration and pain, heshrank against the far corner of the cave.

Sheshuddered again at the sight of his desolation, remembering the cavethat had been so remote and devoid of all human warmth. Silently sheprayed that the vision would soon be over, and as if in answer to hersilent prayer, a dangerous stillness descended. Out of the darkness,the form of a woman appeared. Vincent had sensed her presence fromthe moment she entered, and even Catherine could now hear the softlanding of her footsteps. From where he crouched, Vincent was quiet -too quiet. The woman's next steps placed her easily within his reach,and he raised himself to his full height, his countenance touched byinsanity and his roar a great cry of pain and anger that froze thewoman in her tracks. Though it was no surprise, Catherine stillgasped as she recognized the mirror image of herself. She rememberedbeing so afraid - not only for herself, but for Vincent.

Hemoved in on her with claws extended, and his arm swung upward with apredator's precision, poised to deliver the death blow against thisperson who had dared to approach his lair unbidden. Truly terrifiednow, she screamed out his name, and in the end, it was her voicealone that stopped him. The moments seemed to tick by in slow motionas latent recognition came to his tortured eyes. She watched in aweas rage was replaced by awareness. He knew her. He knew her smell andthe warmth of her body, and something stronger than his state ofdementia held him back from the kill. What stood before him was nophantom of the darkness, but the woman he loved. That one lucidunderstanding amidst an ocean of delirium stopped him. He paused,confused.

Then,Vincent simply collapsed before her.

Andas he staggered and fell, so did her world. She tried to support hisweight as he descended, and was dragged down to the cave's floor.With frantic movements, she clambered over his prone form, laying herhead upon his chest and listening for a heartbeat: but there was nobeat, no breath to him. She checked him over, looking for a pulse, asign - anything - that would tell her that he still lived, and shefound nothing. She cried out his name, but he didn't answer...didn'tmove. Panic seized her heart, and all that was left was the echo ofher anguished cries reverberating off the now silent walls of thecave.

Itwasn't only against his death that she cried, but against her lifecontinuing without him. She had always believed that his death wouldalso be her own: for if they were not destined to be together inlife, their love was such that surely their souls would join indeath. Now, as she skimmed her fingers over his still body, itappeared even a love beyond death was to be denied to them. And asthese thoughts formed to become her reality in the passing secondsafter Vincent collapsed, rage at so cruel a fate filled her. Lifeapart from Vincent was not an option; and even as she gently cradledhis head between her hands, everything within her rejected this harshsevering of their bond. It heralded the end of their dream, and itwas only now that she realized the true importance of the dream toher very existence. Without Vincent, without the hope of a futuretogether, everything was stripped from her life. Then remembering howVincent had breached the very walls of Death to reclaim her after shehad drowned, she knew she could do no less. Vincent was the otherpart of her soul, and if he could not find his way to her on thisside of life, she was determined to join him wherever he had gone,even if it meant her death.

Itwas as simple and as complex as that, and all because she lovedhim - more than any life -Above or Below. Thus, with fiercedetermination, she clung to her faith in their love, filling her mindand heart with every moment of their life together: every touch hehad given, every declaration of devotion and love he had ever uttered- everything. Then she summoned from within all the love andpassion she had held at bay for so long. Trembling, she covered hismouth with her own. With only the power of love as her guide, sheallowed herself this one final joining of their lives in the world ofman. She was ready to die to stay at his side and reaching out withher heart, she demanded that either he answer her summons and embracelife again or that he make room and share his death with her.

Ona plane that transcended the world of man, Catherine stood andchallenged Death for the right to keepVincent by her side. Deathhesitated, temporarily suspending his hold on the male who had justarrived unexpectedly, giving up without a fight. Upon closerinspection of this latest arrival, Deathfrowned. This soul had sacrificed life for the sake of another. Itwas obvious-the power of love surrounded the male like a tangibleforce. Then there was the woman. Deathknew trouble when he saw it, and he had no intention of admitting herinto the realm of the dead - a woman whose love blazed like fire andwho was, even now, storming the very gates of the Afterworld insearch of her lover. The bond of love that these two shared presenteda unified force that even the finality of the grave would be hardpressed to contain. Death had no intention ofspending all eternity battling, for he knew they would never concede.In their case, Death would have no dominion.Death reviewed his scheduledarrivals and noted that he had not called these two lovers. Heneither needed nor desired them in his domain. Their all-encompassinglove would only upset the balance in the halls of the dead; and in aquick decision, he loosened his hold completely over the spirit ofthe male. Death felt no sense of failure or defeat in hisactions. Eventually he would welcome them again, but at theirpreordained time. As for whatever had engineered the male's suddenarrival and the female's quest to join him, Deathrefused to give it a second thought. It was enough for now to set themale's spirit free to choose life over death. And with that,Death turned his back on the twolovers to greet the next scheduled arrival.

Onthe plane of reality, Catherine slowly felt the change in Vincent.She kissed him now with a new desperation, feeling hope rise out ofthe ashes of tragedy. And when she felt the first response of hismouth beneath her own, she knew she had him back. Nothing of thisworld or the next could have forced her to leave his side at thatmoment, and amidst her tears, she whispered his name again and again,leading him with her love into full consciousness. Slowly, his eyesopened and he slid his hand to the back of her head, anchoring her tohim. No longer passive, he now fully participated in the kiss,breathing in her essence.

Fora while having Catherine by his side, stretched out along his bodyand kissing her with a love that emanated from his very soul, wasenough. Inevitably, though, desire filled him, compelling him to seekthe ultimate confirmation of his life with the woman he loved. Hedidn't question why he felt no reticence, he only knew that the needto make this woman completely his was essential to his continuedexistence. It was life, rather than death; and the boundaries andlimitations that had so often prevented him from expressing hisburning need, no longer held him hostage. Lying within the deeprecesses of the cave, he felt his body come alive. Catherine's scentassaulted his senses, the warmth of her mouth clinging to hisinflamed his already aroused state, and her love called forth aninstinctive compulsion to mate with her - to insure through theirjoining that death would never have a chance to triumph overlife.

Raisinghimself on one arm, he pulled her to him, partially pinning her bodybeneath his own. Catherine realized then that the lifeless, torturedcreature of minutes earlier was truly gone. In its place was the manshe loved. For her, time was suspended as she looked up at him,waiting to see if this time he would give in to their love. Shereleased a sigh of relief, as she felt him tug at her clothing andpushed upward to help him remove the barriers that separated theirbodies. And all along her eyes never left him, mesmerized by theburning hunger of the completely aroused male who displayed no signof hesitation or inhibition. Now both unclothed, he stopped andstared down at her. The need for him was more intense than she hadever experienced, and it was then that she realized that she couldsense the fullness of their bond. Through it she felt his desperatelonging for her. Even more urgently, she felt his need for heracceptance of him - from the splendor and primal sensuality of hiswarrior's body to the fragile heart that had only begun to beatagain. He needed her; and even as every cell within him cried out forcompletion, he remained still - his desire held in check by an ironwill - waiting for her to yield body and soul to his safekeeping. Andwith more joy than she thought she could experience, she opened herheart to him. In his heightened state of awareness, he felt heracceptance and her joy. He heard the soft panting of her breath, feltthe rapid beating of her heart. But it was the full force of herpassion, urgent with the desire to join with him, which staggeredhim.

Catherinecould, likewise, sense in Vincent the primal compulsion to mate thatthrummed along the Bond, and she reveled in the knowledge that shewas the focal point of his desire. What she had not expected,however, was to feel the very same urgency and desperation. The needto give herself over to him, to immerse all that she was into theelemental act of physically joining with Vincent was nearlyoverwhelming. She had never been so aware of his masculinity, and ashe bent and began to gently lave her neck, moving downward to lightlynip and suck at her breast, she felt the beginning contractions ofher release. Sensing her needs, he pulled her closer, alternating hisattention from one breast to the other, as a furred hand sliddownward to the juncture of her thighs. Catherine needed no furtherurging other than the gentle pressure of his hand to open herself tohim. Raising himself on one elbow, he looked down at her and withmale possessiveness, spread his hand to span her from hip to hip,covering her sex completely. Without a word, he laid down his claimto what would, from that time forth, be his. Joined to him as she waswithin their bond, Vincent sensed her understanding, her acceptance,and her complete submission to him.

Fromthat point on there was only one focus for either of them.Catherine's senses were flooded with pleasure as Vincent began toexplore her, watching her intently and rubbing in rhythmic circularmotions with the pad of his thumb and forefinger. As increasing moansof pleasure escaped Catherine, Vincent bent his head to again captureher breast, this time suckling greedily as he gave over to desireslong hidden. The onslaught of feelings were simply too much, andCatherine fell off the edge of reality into the arms of release. Shehad no idea when he ceased to touch her. All she could sense now washis need held barely in check as he gently shifted her to her stomachand, guiding her by the hips, pulled her up to her knees to restagainst his straining erection. Though desire had been satisfied,Catherine still felt the longing for fulfillment that only Vincentcould bring her, and impatiently she now leaned back into him. Shewanted him within her more than her next breath, but Vincent's lowgrowl halted her frantic motions as he held her hips still. Throughthe Bond, she felt his iron-clad determination not to harm her, andwith slow deliberation, he entered her - opening himself wide totheir bond in search of any discomfort. To Catherine, his caution wasas wonderful as it was maddening, as he took his time to fill hercompletely. But once he had, it became her turn to savor the franticedge of Vincent's lust as she arched her back and said softly, "It'stime. Let yourself go, Vincent. You won't hurt me."

Asthough a cord had snapped, another growl escaped Vincent, and hepulled himself almost completely out, and then surged forward again.This movement he achieved once, twice; and then he wrapped his armsecurely around Catherine's mid-section, holding her tight againsthim as instinct drove him to a different, more demanding rhythm: hedriving deeper and she welcoming him as all the limits fell away.Catherine knew the whimpers of desire were emanating from her, butthere were no words she could utter to express the sheer joy of beingjoined to him. And then there were no thoughts at all as she wasoverwhelmed by Vincent's rising passion that drew her deeper with himinto the whirling vortex of their bond, even as he drove himselfdeeper into her body. Merged as one, their sensations grew moreacute. She could sense the strain and coiled readiness of his body astheir passion spiraled ever higher and at its apex, they found thebrilliance of their love radiating in a cascade of colors,sensations, and emotions. Helpless to hold back the tidal wave thatdrove him relentlessly to release, Vincent roared out his dominationin one final thrust, pouring all that he was - all that he would everbe - into her keeping.

Longminutes passed before Vincent could sense anything outside of hisconnection to Catherine. Then shaken by the magnitude of theirloving, he slowly eased down to lie with her amidst the clothes thathad created their bed on the cave floor. Catherine rested across hisbody, her head pillowed on his chest, his arms holding her close. Fora long while, they simply rested, bodies and souls, in the warmcocoon of love that was the aftermath of their union. Then asCatherine looked up at Vincent, she rejoiced in his expression ofutter calm. Now fully spent and released from anguish, secure inCatherine's love and finally at peace within, the strain of the pastweek caught him unawares. Pulling Catherine more securely within hisembrace, he closed his eyes. Grateful for his life, his love, hisvery being, Catherine lay quietly, thinking of all that they hadshared and how close she had come to losing him. It was then that shebegan to cry.

Thoughthey stood well apart from the scene that unfolded before them, shefelt Vincent shudder. Turning back to face him, she laid her headupon his chest, trying as much to soothe him as to calm the wildbeating of her own heart. She could no more deny the truth of whatshe'd just witnessed than she could stop herself from responding tohis closeness. She could feel his muscles, tense and hard beneath thelayers of his clothes; his long legs that stood braced apart tosupport himself, or the both of them, if needed.

Atthat moment, their desire for each other was nearly overwhelming.Neither felt shame, for the sight of their coupling had made suchfeelings no longer necessary. Yet, despite what they felt for eachother, despite how much Vincent longed that very minute to make loveto Catherine, now was not the time. This they both knew and accepted.Thus, unable to trust the strength of his will to contain his desire,Vincent silently held Catherine, not daring to move a muscle lest hiscontrol collapse completely. Catherine could feel the rapid rise andfall of his chest, the ragged sound of his uneven breathing, and thesmall tremors that coursed through him. The length of his arousal,strained against her stomach, revealing that he had not yet regainedcontrol over his passion. And even as Catherine ached for him to domore than hold her in his arms, she knew his control now was tenuous,at best, and so she turned her thoughts away from Vincent andconcentrated on willing her own aroused state to ease. When she couldhear and feel that his breathing had returned to normal, she finallywhispered, "It isn't finished, is it?"

"No,"he answered her solemnly. A barely audible sigh was all that betrayedher weariness. Leaning down, he gently kissed her cheek, whisperinginto her ear, "Have courage, my dearest Catherine. The end is verynear."

Shefound the sadness in his voice oddly disquieting, but she was longpast questioning anything that happened. In any event, they'd cometoo far to stop now. Linking her fingers into his, she turned back toface the mist beyond them and once again opened herself to thememories of their past.

Thescene had totally changed. She saw herself standing alone in a barrenroom, facing a single window and absently stroking her protrudingabdomen with one hand while she supported the center of her lowerback with the other. Startled, Catherine realized then that she waspregnant....carrying his child...their child. And as the mist rolledpast the six months of her pregnancy, the scene changed to an austerewhite room where she was in labor. Catherine remembered the terror ofher delivery - not fear for herself, but fear for her unborn child.The people around her desired her death, as soon as she delivered herbaby. They wanted him, too. She had prayed for the labor to stop,knowing that the only safety for her child was in not being born.Yet, nature had taken the choice out of her hands, and she inhaledsharply as a particularly gripping pain lanced through her lowerback. From somewhere beyond she heard the order for a Caesarean, andher eyes went wide with comprehension and terror; and now instead ofpraying for the labor to stop, she strained with all her strength todeliver her child before they could butcher her to take it.

Apiercing cry of anguish completed the delivery, and once more she wasaware of the mortal danger surrounding her. In horror she watched asher son was grabbed up by the doctor she had come to hate. Withouthesitation, he handed her baby over to another. As this man's handsclosed around the tiny body, the child let out a desperate wail thatpierced her straight to her heart. Torn from his mother's arms, thebaby's weak wail became more frantic. It was sheer agony, andCatherine wondered if she had any reserve of energy to fight back.But that slim hope was lost as the doctor rammed a needle into herarm. Catherine felt the burning fluid enter her system, and fearedher death was imminent. The doctor's assurance that it would act fastdid nothing to soothe the pain of knowing that with her death, therewould be no one to protect her child.

Despairoverwhelmed her. She could feel the drug coursing through her body,strangling her strength. She tried to resist it, but in the end, herbody betrayed her. It simply would not obey, and she no longer hadthe will to fight. In one last effort, she pleaded with theman...still standing there with her child in his arms. The man, whowas the very embodiment of evil, held the baby up for her to see, andsmiled in triumph. He then turned his back on her and walked out ofthe room, taking her son with him.

Bynow she was so tired, and the drug seemed to grow stronger even asshe grew weaker. If she could just rest enough to regain herstrength. Wearily, she closed her eyes and thought to never open themagain, but her will proved stronger than even she had expected. Withthe last of her reserves, she got to her feet. Then, with a mother'slove as her only guide, she listened for the whimpering cries of herchild and began to follow those who had stolen him away. A shorthallway led to stairs, and she began the arduous task of climbing tothe roof of the building. It was then - bleeding, bruised, andstruggling to pull herself ever upward - that she felt his presence.Vincent.

Pushingagainst the door that opened onto the roof, she called out his name.Vincent. She needed him...their child needed him. She wanted to tellhim of how they had loved the night he had come back to life; sheneeded to tell him of the child they'd created. Remorse tugged at herremaining strength as she remembered a time before her abduction whenshe could have told him, but hadn't. Now she had so little time, andshe was so tired. She felt the blackness calling out to her, waitingto claim her. And still she fought against the lethargy, aware onlythat her baby was lost to her and Vincent was near.

Thattheir beautiful baby lived - that their love would still live in him- was all she could give Vincent now. She knew she was slipping away,perhaps even into delirium, for she thought she felt his arms enfoldher in the protection of his love, as he had so many times before.God, how she wanted it to be so, but amidst the spinning images ofher drug-induced hallucination, she couldn't be certain. If truly hewas with her, she prayed she'd had the presence of mind to tell himabout the baby so he would understand that it wasn't the end: not forher, not for their son, not for them. This time death would have nodominion. She knew it in her heart. She believed it, and she wasn't afraid,even as the darkness rose to obliterate all light. Somehow she wouldsurvive; she had to - for the sake of their child, for the sake oftheir love, for the sake of Vincent And as his image rose in hermind, she felt peace replace her earlier despair. There was nothingmore she could do, and so she stopped fighting and slipped into anunconsciousness as still as death.

Inher sleep, she heard a child crying, and the sound broke her heartinto a thousand pieces. Savagely, she wrenched herself awake, and infreeing herself from the pain, she broke into the dawn of a new day.She was alone. In the early morning light of her room, she sat up andonly then noticed that she was shivering. She pushed her dampenedhair from her eyes and looked around. Her face glistened where realtears had streaked down. Her clothes were soaked in sweat, and herarms ached, as though she had strained the muscles. Reaching formy baby...she thought.

Onimpulse, she closed her eyes and slipped her hand under the thinnightshirt. Gingerly she touched her abdomen, trying to imagine - toforce her mind to validate that a life had grown within her. Itdidn't take much persuasion, and the truth of it shocked her. Shejammed her balled fist into her mouth to stop the scream thatthreatened to erupt. It was only when she tasted blood where herteeth had broken the skin of her knuckles that she pulled her handaway. Heaving great gulps of air, she tried to slow her hammeringheart. The dream that was so much more than a dream and more realthan any reality she'd ever faced...had it really happened?

She'dgiven birth...there had been a child...a baby...and there wasVincent...his father. And then it all came back to her. The dream hadended so abruptly, but it was enough to point her to what she neededto do...what she had to do. It was morning, he was gone, and it wasall up to her now. She longed to feel his strong arms around heragain, and her arms yearned to cradle their child. If ever she was tofeel either in this world, she had to get better. It was alreadyJune, she recalled. She would have to move soon to avoid having tosearch for them in the dead of winter. August. By August she wasgoing to be out of Pinewillow, she vowed to herself.

Unconsciously,she had drawn her legs up in the bed, and now wearily she rested herforehead on her knees. She felt herself outwardly calming in theearly morning quiet of her room, but her inner self remained numb,caught still in the aftermath of the dream. Shaking herself from thememories, she eased out of the bed and shuffled over to the shower.The physical therapy was helping, but she still lacked completecontrol over her body. That, too, would have to change.

Steppinginto the shower, she selected cold water, and as it shocked hersystem fully awake, she felt the emotional grip on her heart ease.For a long while she stood beneath the torrential downpour. Under theroar of the water, she began repeating her name, "Catherine," and asif in a trance, details continued to pour in of a time when her lifewas as a district attorney Above and a helper to Vincent and thehidden community Below. What was she now? Was there anyplace shecould ever fit in after all that had happened? She thought ofVincent's words, and knew she could never go back to her old life.She needed him as her husband, and her child needed a mother.Whatever else there was to consider, she knew her life had to be withhim and her family - and that would mean a life Below. Suddenly, shefound herself smiling and then laughing so hard that her side beganto ache. She finally had an answer to Nurse Carlisle's persistentquestioning about her obsession with the darkness: it was herhome! Winded,she hugged her sides. It felt good to laugh again.

Whenshe finally stepped out, nothing appeared different, but everythinghad changed. To those around her she would remain Caitland, but inher heart she knew herself to be Catherine Chandler. And she finallyremembered the danger that had caused her illness. Even more, she wasno longer paralyzed by her fear of the past or content to sit atPinewillow...not when she had a life to reclaim: a life, a love, anda family. Standing damp and naked, she shivered ever so slightly, butshe was far from cold. She was trembling in outrage at all that shehad lost, all that had been taken from her. She wasn't scared now -not even of death. With a hefty dose of pent-up resentment, shediscovered she was mad as hell. And after so many months of passivelyaccepting whatever happened to her, that felt good, too.

"I'mcoming, Vincent, and heaven help anyone who gets in my way," shewhispered to no one and everyone as she walked back into her room andbegan to dress. It was much too early for her physical therapyappointment, and she didn't have permission to change her treatmentschedule - but the exercise room was open. She needed her body back,healed and ready for whatever awaited outside - that meant a morningworkout. Wrapping a clean towel around her shoulders, she slipped outof the room.

Shewas ready to live again.