Part 1 

"You can't tell him, Jacob."

Not wanting to intrude on an obviously private discussion, Vincent stopped just outside the entrance to Father's chamber.

"I am well aware of that, Peter."

"She made me promise that I would not tell him, but I felt that you, at least, should know."

Vincent turned to leave when he heard Father continue.

"With Diana and the baby . . . my god, Peter, how did she take the news?"

"All the life seemed to drain out of her and she fell back into a chair. Then she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and said that he must never know that she was back."

Vincent wondered who Peter and Father could be talking about. He didn't know of anyone that would be troubled by Diana and the baby. Curiosity kept him rooted to the spot.

"Four years, Peter, Catherine's been gone for four years, and Vincent finally has the life she always wanted for him. Her return could shatter that life."

"Don't you think she knows that? Why else the promise?"

Catherine alive! Vincent couldn't believe what he had heard. His heart leapt in his breast with the possibility that she might actually be alive. He fell to his knees; his legs giving away. Was it possible; could it be? His hand grasped his chest over the heart that burst with possibilities. I've got to get away and think. Jumping to his feet, he bolted down the tunnel. Rushing into his chamber, he grabbed his cloak then dashed out the door, not even seeing Diana as she was changing the baby, .

"Vincent! Where . . .?" In all the years she had know him, she had never seen him so wild looking and distraught. He was always so cool and distant, even with Father, and try as she might she could not scale nor break down the wall he had built around his heart. It seemed that the loss of Catherine had been so traumatic that he had decided never to be put in the position where he could be hurt again by the loss of love. Only Jacob could scale that wall and was the center of Vincent's life.

In his agitation Vincent paid no heed to the greetings or the comments that were made as he fled down the tunnels to be alone with his jumbled emotions. Flying through the rocky corridors, he tried to outrace the voices that were in his head. Finally, he came to what he had always called Catherine's Cave. Shortly after he had met her, he had taken her to this small grotto-like cave. At the far end of the cave, a small stream of crystal clear water flowed into a small pool. To one side of the pool there was a small stone bench, and he and Catherine had spent many wonderful evenings sitting there, talking of the day's happenings and reading to each other.

Gasping and out of breath, he slid down the wall to sit on the stone floor with his knees drawn up. He took a deep breath as his head fell back. Father and Peter's words whirled around in his brain. Catherine alive; it was a miracle. As he accepted the truth that she was really alive, the wall of ice he had built around his heart cracked, and with the warm flow of emotion entering his heart, their bond blossomed in all its glory. He could feel her; the joy he felt was almost past bearing. She was back in his world, but the pain and sorrow she felt nearly undid him. Slowly, his head fell forward onto his knees and the tears started. Tears of joy, tears of gratitude, and--yes--tears of fear, for he was afraid.

Afraid that she would not want him in her life after his betrayal of her and their dream. He was the source of all that pain, and it shamed him that he had not kept faith in their dream. How could she believe that he loved her when he had another woman living in his chamber? Oh, Catherine, please love me still. I don't think I could stand it if you turned away from me. He threw his head back and howled his anguish. What a mess I have made of things. I have ruined three lives because my faith in our dream was not strong enough. What was he to do? He had to see her and explain, to make things right between them. Knowing she was alive, he could not and would not stay away from her. Once again she was trying to protect him and sacrificing her joy and peace for him. This could not continue. Nothing would keep him from her; he could bear the loss of Jacob, even though he loved him dearly, but to spend the rest of his life without Catherine, knowing she was somewhere Above, would be intolerable.

Narcissa! I'll see Narcissa. She has helped me before, maybe she can help me now.

"Come in, child. And what is it that brings you to see this crazy old woman?" For some reason she gazed at him reprovingly. The old witch woman was standing at a large table that held various herbs, roots, powders, a carafe of water, and a large wooden bowl.

"I need your advice, Narcissa. Catherine is alive," he said, breathlessly, moving to stand before her.

She looked at him with her sightless eyes and nodded her head. "I have known this for some time."

Incensed, he shouted at her, "Why didn't you tell me?"

She spoke to him as if he was an unruly child. "Come, child, would you have believed me? Or would you have lost faith in me?" Calmly, she proceeded to drop some hearbs into a bowl of water.

Her question choked off his anger as if he had been caught in a cold shower. "I . . . I don't know. I probably wouldn't have believed you." He stalked up and down the room agitated at what he knew was true--he would not have believed her.

"So, you have answered your own question. But you should have come to me before you asked the other woman to come below. Why did you?" She stirred the herbs and water and set them aside to steep.

Vincent looked deeply into his heart. He had known that Diana cared deeply for him and he cared for her. She was a true and trusted friend and he feared for her life. He couldn't bear to lose another friend so soon after losing Catherine. So, he had asked her to come below, and she had assumed that she was to live with him an assumption that Catherine would never have made. He hadn't had the heart to tell her otherwise, or maybe he just didn't care enough about anything at the time to do so.

"Loss is part of life, Vincent. To base a decision on a fear of loss is always a bad choice."

"I've really made a mess of this, haven't I?" he asked as he saw how his grief had caused him to act without thinking.

"There is still a chance that everything will work out, but you must face Catherine. She is at the heart of the problem."

"I want to race to her side right now, but I am afraid."

Narcissa asked, shrewdly, "Afraid that she will reject you for your lack of faith?"

"Yes." He slumped against the wall, bowing his head, his hair falling forward to hide his fear.

"Have you opened the bond fully?" she asked.

"How did you know?" With a shrug of her shoulder, the nodded for him to go on. "No, I only opened it enough to know that she was really alive," he continued.

"Before you see the woman open it fully. It might surprise you. But after you see Catherine, you must see Diana."

"I know. I dread that more than anything. I don't want to hurt her, but I will."

"Yes, someone will be hurt. Whether it is you, Catherine, or Diana I cannot tell. The spritis will not reveal that to me. Go now. Your Catherine is waiting for you."

"Even if she doesn't know it?"

"Even if she doesn't know it."

"Diana, have you seen Vincent, lately?" Father asked as he entered Vincent's chamber. Odd, he thought, how I have never thought of it as their chamber. He walked over to the cradle to peer down at the newest resident of his world.

"It's the strangest thing. He ran in here wild-eyed and distraught, grabbed his cloak, and left without saying a word. I've never seen him like that before."

Dear god, I hope he didn't hear Peter and me. "Well, when he returns tell him I need to speak with him." Softly. he ran his hand over the baby's smooth head. "How is the baby adjusting to her new surroundings?"

"She's a sweet little thing, and she's fallen in love with Vincent. She coos and laughs whenever he holds her." Diana picked the child up and offered her to Father. He cradled her to his heart, wondering out loud, "How could anyone abandon such a lovely child?"

"I don't know, Father. Sometimes I wonder about my world."

Giving the child back to Diana, he turned to leave, "Be sure to tell Vincent that I need to talk with him."

"Don't worry, I will."

A worried and apprehensive but eager Vincent had returned to Catherine's cave and replayed in his mind what he was going to say to her. Everything he thought of seemed so trite and inadequate. He decided that he could only tell her the truth and trust her to know his heart. The day crawled by on snail's feet. He dozed several times but each time woke violently from a dream of Catherine rejecting him. Would this day never end? The urge to see her was building and becoming stronger as the hours crept by, until he was afraid that when he saw her, he would not be able to control himself. The beast within him constantly taunted him with his failure, saying that he would not have betrayed her, he would have been true to her and her memory, he didn't even like Diana. The beast would take care of Catherine and always see to her safety. In his agony over his perceived betrayal, he had no answer for the darkness.

At last, his internal clock told him that it was midnight. He decided to take a seldom used tunnel that was unsafe but would bypass the sentries, certain that Father would be looking for him. He didn't want to answer the questions that Father would ask. Skirting the central tunnels, he ducked into a small narrow tunnel that was just large enough for him to walk through hunched over. The floor of the tunnel was wet from a sudden heavy downpour and water ran down the walls in rivulets. Vincent stepped up his pace, trying to get out of there as fast as he could, . Suddenly, there was a slight noise, something like a sigh, and the wall on his right began to cave in. Running as fast as he could, he could not outrace the mudslide that caught him as he rounded a corner and flung him against the far wall, smashing his head against the unforgiving stone. As he fell into a well of inky blackness, he called out to Catherine through their bond. Catherine, hear me. I need you.

Sitting in the dark, nursing a cold cup of coffee, Catherine was wishing with all her heart that she had not come back. She had awakened from a three year coma and had worked very hard for a year to be able to walk into Vincent's arms when she returned to New York. Anticipating her reunion with Vincent and her son--how happy it would make them--she had learned that a woman named Diana lived with him and that they had a baby. Her world had crashed around her feet when Peter had told her this. She couldn't get away fast enough from the poor man to be alone in her misery.

Did her love mean so little Vincent? If it had been her, she would never have found another to replace him. She wanted him to be happy, only not so soon, but how selfish of her to begrudge him what happiness he could find. But, oh god, how it hurt to think of him in another woman's arms.

All at once, her fingers went limp. The cup slipped to the floor, spattering the coffee over the rug. Vincent had called out to her. He was in terrible danger. He needed her. Leaving the fallen cup on the floor, she dashed into her bedroom, grabbed her leather jacket, and was out the door in a matter of a few seconds.

Somehow she made it to Father's chamber without being challenged by a sentry. She burst into the chamber to find a very worried looking Father and a strange, auburn-haired woman holding a tiny baby.

"Father," she gasped, "Vincent is in terrible trouble."

They turned startled eyes to her, and the woman's blue eyes widened in surprise. She stepped back as if to distance herself from Catherine.

"What do you mean Vincent is in trouble?" Father asked as he stepped toward Catherine. It was only later that she wondered at Father's lack of surprise at her presence in his chamber.

Shaking her head, she replied, "I don't know. I was sitting in my apartment when he called out to me through our bond."

"What did he say?"

"He said, 'Catherine, hear me, I need you.' That's all."

"He's been missing all day. We've been looking for him."

It dawned on Catherine that that was why she was not stopped by a sentry. They were all busy looking for Vincent. "I Think I can take you to him but he must not know I was here."

"Yes, yes, I know that. Where is he?" he asked brusquely.

"Follow me." Catherine left on a run with Father hobbling after her, calling out for her to wait for him. She ran into Mouse coming back to report to Father that there was no sign of Vincent.

"Catherine!" he yelped. "Where been? Vincent misses you."

"I know, Mouse, but I know where Vincent is. Please follow me."

Mouse fell in step behind her, and they raced to the small tunnel that Vincent was trapped in.

"Mouse, before I go, you must promise me that you will not tell Vincent that I am here. You must tell no one, all right?"

"Why? Vincent loves Catherine," he stated adamantly.

"I'm not sure that he does. But anyway, promise me, please. Father will explain."

Scuffing his toe in the dirt, Mouse looked up at her through ragged bangs, uncertainty in his eyes.

"Please," Catherine begged. "It is for Vincent's own good."

"Ok good, ok fine, but if Vincent asks, Mouse will tell. Deal?"

"Deal."

Father arrived as the deal was struck, and the look he gave Mouse let the young man know that Father would talk to him later.

Breathing heavily, Father asked, "Is this the tunnel that Vincent is in?"

"Yes, I'm sure of it." Catherine peered into the darkness, hoping to see something, but Vincent's lantern had been snuffed out by the mudslide.

"Catherine, return to my chamber and wait for me. I don't want any more of my people to see you. It will be difficult enough with just Mouse knowing. If you hear me with anyone else go into my bed chamber."

Catherine nodded and hurried away. She desperately wanted to help with the rescue but that was impossible if she meant to keep her return from Vincent.

Soft candle light emanated from Vincent's chamber. It had been four long years since she had set foot in it. Decisively, she entered the chamber, and found the strange woman from Father's chamber trying to feed a very fussy baby. She could see that the woman was becoming very frustrated. Without thinking she offered, "Can I help?"

Startled, the woman seemed to retreat into herself when she met Catherine's eyes. Shaking her head, she stated, "You're Catherine Chandler."

"Yes, and you are Diana," she answered softly.

"Uh huh. Diana Bennett. I solved your murder and helped Vincent find Jacob." Once again the baby spit the nipple out of her mouth. "Darn, she just won't eat."

"Maybe she can feel your frustration. Let me try." Catherine took the baby and, crooning to her, soon had her nursing happily. "Babies pick up emotions almost effortlessly," she explained.

Catherine took the chair that Diana had vacated and finished the feeding. Why can't I do that? Diana thought. She's a natural born mother. Babies instinctively trust her.

Settling the fed and burped baby into her crib, Catherine asked, "Is Jacob near?"

"Yeah, just behind the drapes. He's taking his nap."

"May I see him?" Catherine's heart jumped at the chance to see her son.

"He's your child, as I've been reminded of time and time again," Diana answered with an it's-immaterial-to-me shrug.

Quietly, Catherine pulled the drapes to one side and entered the small alcove. Jacob was sleeping on his side, sucking on his middle two fingers with the forefinger and pinkie bracketing his nose.

Oh god, he is so beautiful. How she wanted to take him into her arms and never let him go but that was impossible. He didn't know her. She would only frighten him. Gently, she brushed his bangs to the side tears brightening her eyes. If his eyes were open, she knew she would see Vincent's azure blue eyes gazing back at her. In some ways he resembled both of them. She brushed his forehead with a light kiss. "Sleep well, my son. I hope to see you again someday. I love you."

Returning to the larger chamber, Catherine walked over to the crib. "Vincent's child?" she asked, afraid of the answer.

"Yes," Diana replied. Well, it was the truth, Vincent had found her and claimed her.

In a small voice she asked the question that would destroy her. "Vincent loves you?"

"Yes, very much. We're very happy, and at least, he is safer being here Below with me." There that ought to get her. Keep her away from Vincent.

The truth of her words was like a knife twisting in Catherine's heart. He was safer Below. She had only brought him death and danger.

"I hope you'll both be very happy," Catherine managed to choke out as she disappeared through the doorway. Her voice strengthening, she called back, "Tell Father that I have gone back where I belong."

Smugly hugging herself, Diana danced around the chamber. Catherine Chandler had left the battlefield to her.

The subject of Diana's gleeful thoughts blindly stumbled through the tunnels, barely able to contain the tears that threatened to burst forth. After an interminable elevator ride to her floor, she flung open her apartment door, then slammed it shut, and collapsed on the nearest love seat, overcome with more pain and grief than she had ever experienced. Even the death of her mother had not hit her thiss hard. The tears broke through at last and rolled down her cheeks. She folded into a ball of pure misery as great wrenching sobs shook her fragile frame. She cried until there were no more tears then fell into a troubled sleep, dreaming of losing Vincent to Diana. She awoke when she cried out, "No, don't leave me."

She laid on the couch, staring at the ceiling, thinking. What was she to do? There was only one solution that she could see. She had to put as much distance as possible between Vincent and her. As much as she hated the thought, she must leave New York. By distancing herself she could weaken the bond enough to be able to shut it down. His call to her meant that the bond had returned--stronger and deeper. She knew now that it was only a bond of friendship, but she had long ago gone from friendship to unconditional love. Somehow she would find the strength to start over without him. She would never love again, but there were other kinds of love, and she would fill her life with them. With a heavy heart she set about making a list of all that she had to do to start her new life.

Part 2