Standing at the threshold in the basement of Catherine’s apartment building and waiting for her to come Below filled Vincent with a deep, tranquil joy. Catherine had just returned home, and he knew that it would take her some time yet to get ready to meet him. It always did.

He reveled in the clear sense he had of her anticipation and eagerness to be with him, and his heartstrings hummed with the emotions her thoughts of him evoked within her. Resting his head against the rough brick wall, Vincent closed his eyes. With the practice of many years of dealing with his empathic abilities, he cleared his mind from superficial thoughts and perceptions and merely listened to the warm and living presence in his heart that was Catherine. Soft images and sensations emerged from the background of his consciousness and drifted by his inner eye; of Catherine running towards him and throwing herself into his waiting embrace; of Catherine’s gaze locked to his, her cool palm touching his fevered cheek; of Catherine’s warm breath on his face as he bowed his head to lean his forehead against hers. And of Catherine’s tears…
 
His eyes flew open and he started pacing restlessly the small space in front of the opening that led to her world. The image of Catherine’s tears had stirred something within him, a distant memory that surged against his awareness, a flood of emotions that threatened to engulf him. He was well aware of what Catherine’s tears stood for. They symbolized her sadness at his reluctance to open up to her love, his hesitation to allow her into his soul as he was always in hers. He knew that she accepted his withdrawals because she believed they came from his fear of hurting her physically, should he ever allow himself to give in to his passion and desire for her. She knew, though, that he wasn’t capable of hurting her, and he knew it too, yet he let her believe it and hated himself for doing so.

What he feared, what he was truly terrified of, was something that eluded his attempts to put it into words. How should he explain to her the unfathomable depths and hidden facets of his being, the intricacies of his alien personality? At least that was how it appeared to him -- alien -- for he had never met anyone who had been like him, or who could even begin to understand what he had been through in becoming the person he was. Of course, he had help and support from those who loved him, and he knew how fortunate he was that they were part of his life, but none of them could know who the person they loved and protected from the cold eyes of the world above, really was. Yes, they knew that he was capable of rage and violence in defending his home and his family and they accepted it, a fact that never ceased to amaze him. But that savage and ferocious side of himself was not what he so desperately struggled to hide from others in the first place.

They must not know, they must never know, had always been his first thought when he felt it come. - It. - He dreaded it and craved it all at once, and there had been dark times when he hadn’t known how to handle it other than leaving the hub of his world and seeking the solitude of its deepest levels.

To maintain his sanity, he had to let it come from time to time, had to make it live within him and through him, but he dared not let it touch other people, because he had no idea what kind of effect it would have on them. Actually, he knew little about it, aside from the fact that it seemed to be an essential part of who he was. The attempt alone to fend it off and hold it at bay had almost driven him into madness many times. But apparently it was not a part of the world he lived in, and that was why he thought of it - and of himself - as alien.

Sweet stirrings within the bond brought his thoughts back to Catherine. Now she was preparing to leave her apartment to come below. Her love encompassed him, soothed and caressed his troubled mind. Yes, she loved him, if only the side of him that she knew, that he let her know. He must lock away the part that had no place in this world, for fear of losing her should she ever get a glimpse of what lay beyond the fragile balance he struggled so bravely to maintain. He had to do it, had to close himself off, for only when he was alone would he let down the walls of protection, would he dare to be himself and dive deep into the realm of his real self.

Being alone had been easier before Catherine. He simply didn’t like being parted from her, that was why he had been neglecting his visits to the deepest levels of the underground world for quite some time now.

Catherine! Being with her was unlike anything he had ever experienced in his life. Being with her combined the freedom of being alone with a feeling of utter completeness. And yet there was his reluctance to let her share in the bond to the same extent he did.

Unlike any other person he had ever known, Catherine carried within her the possibility of merging with him in a way that would enable her to know him down to the very core of his being. He could sense this in her, and strongly so. Oh, how he longed for that closeness, yearned for it with all his heart, and yet he knew he had to prevent it from happening because he had no idea what it would do to Catherine.

Holding her, touching her, feeling her tender caresses was such a sweet torment to him. How often had he dreamed of giving in to her desire, her love, of letting it seize him and invade him by meeting and melting with his. But those sensations came too close to that other invasion that had taken hold of him from time to time. It always would start with a wave of excitement that washed over him and left him breathless in its wake. But after that -- nothing.

At times, he felt a deep peace within the blankness he found himself in after it was gone. But the fact that he couldn’t remember anything, that his awareness of what was happening seemed to be swept away afterwards, scared him and left him bewildered and shaken.

What if ... ? These words had become an insurmountable obstacle between Catherine and himself, preventing them from the last step they were meant to take. Deep within himself he knew that they could only find completness and fulfillment in loving each other undividedly, spiritually as well as physically.

He could hear her now, her footsteps clearly discernible by his acute hearing as her heartbeat always was through the bond. There was the scraping sound as the crates that concealed the secret entrance were shoved aside, and then she pushed open the door and descended directly into his waiting arms.

She hugged him enthusiastically, her small body pressed enticingly close. Oh, she knew very well how this affected him, that it sometimes excited him almost beyond endurance. He sighed softly and smiled at her impish grin as she assessed her effect on him.

“I’ve missed you so much, Vincent,” she whispered hoarsely.

“So I see,” he teased lightly, breathing the softest of kisses against her forehead.

She closed her eyes, savoring the moment. As she opened them again, she caught his solemn gaze still lingering on her face.

“What is it, Vincent? You look so pensive. Has something happened?”

He shook his head. “I was just remembering...”

“Share it with me? Please?”

He considered his thoughts briefly before he began to speak. “It’s about something that happened almost twenty years ago. There was someone living with us who was very important to me. His name was Manolo. It’s strange, but I haven’t thought of him in a long time. When he came to us, he appeared to be very old and rather fragile, but once we came to know him better he turned out to be considerably strong and agile. The moment when I first saw him will be forever on my mind and in my heart. I remember that it was very late, and I heard voices coming from Father’s study when I was on my way to our nightly talk or game of chess or time to read together. That piqued my curiosity for usually those hours were saved for me. When I entered the study, I saw Manolo sitting there, facing away from the entrance and speaking to Father with soft words and gestures. I wanted to retreat unnoticed in order not to disturb their talk, when I suddenly felt that the old man was aware of me, knowing me instantly without even seeing me.”

Vincent paused, needing to see Catherine’s eyes while he said what he was about to say now. “What I’m trying to tell you, Catherine, is that he was aware of me the way I am aware of people.” He fell silent again, gauging her reaction to his words.

“No, Catherine, not like that. My sense of you is something special. It can’t be compared to anything I’ve ever shared with anyone. Instead it was like seeing me with his inner eye and knowing me before he had even turned towards me or exchanged any words with me. I froze when I felt his mind reaching out to mine, touching it, but stopping respectfully before it reached my heart, not wanting to enter it without my permission. I could sense all of it clearly, it’s what I sometimes do with someone who comes to me with their sadness or pain or a problem that needs to be solved, seeking my counsel or merely the comfort of my sharing in their feelings. That day, Manolo recognized and accepted me for all I was, and for a moment I thought that I had finally found someone who was a bit like me, a kindred spirit who would not be repulsed by my ... differences.”

His voice trailed off and in an instant he felt how much his words had saddened Catherine. From the intensity of her gaze as she looked up at him, he could tell that she knew how much he longed to be known and understood, and that she would sacrifice anything to be able to give that to him. His heart ached with the knowledge that she was the one person who could fulfill his existence in a way that went beyond friendship or even love, at least as most people knew and used the term.

“Don’t be sad, Catherine,” he whispered. “As long as you are with me, I’m not going to miss anything.”

She took his hands in hers, fleetingly rubbing her cheek against their furred backs.

“Vincent, why do you think you remembered Manolo tonight, after all those years?”

He pondered her question carefully, gathering his thoughts before putting them into words to express the truth without revealing anything that might possibly hurt or offend.

“Tonight, when I was waiting for you to come below, Catherine, I contemplated the reasons that keep us from being really close, from becoming one as we seem to be destined to be, and yet
Catherine, there is so much in me that I don’t understand and therefore withhold from you. You know that I do, and yet you trust me.”

He swallowed as he felt tears sting his eyes, but he continued.

“Manolo knew me like no one else, and once he said something that I didn’t understand, not then, yet I remember that it gave me hope and self-confidence, something I had always been lacking because of my differences. He said that I was someone whose roots would reach down deep into the bowels of the earth while my branches would touch the boundless skies.”

Catherine’s eyes glistened with impending tears as her feelings passed through him like a gentle breeze, telling him that she had always seen him in exactly this way.

He drew her into his arms and held her tightly, cradling her head in his large hand. Her arms came up and encircled his waist and he could hear the familiar intake of breath with which she inhaled the scent of his world, leather and candlewax, relishing the closeness and warmth of his body.

He nuzzled the top of her head, brushing his lips gently across her brows and temples. The feelings these caresses stirred in her surged through him and he reveled in them, grateful that she had gradually led him into sharing those subtle, yet intimate, touches with her. As he felt her lips on the sensitive skin of his neck, he knew that this was going to be one of the rare, but treasured, moments when they would kiss. Each kiss they had ever shared was a sparkling gem in his memory, and he loved remembering every single one of them and bathing in their soft shine.

Her lips were trailing the strong line of his jaw now, and he wove his fingers through her hair, suddenly eager to touch her, taste her, make her his. She smelled of spring flowers and she tasted of dew as he captured her mouth with his, gently entering her with his tongue. She moaned softly, and he wanted to take her into his body, to permeate her with all that he was, to make their spirits and bodies blend and become one. He caught himself moving against her, his hips undulating in the steady rhythm of lovemaking, and her eager response drew a groan from him. Oh, how he dreaded the moment when he would have to pull away, to break the kiss and the spell, lest they get swept away and lost in the vortex of an unknown power hovering beyond the light of their love and their shared passion.

One last kiss, one more. He drank from her lips, feasted on them, the rapid beating of their hearts pounding in his ears. She was so willing, so ready to be his, her body and soul trustingly open for him to enter. Her hands were everywhere as she stoked his back and down to his hips and aching groin. His groan, muffled by her demanding mouth, filled the small chamber, and it was then that he felt ‘It’ seeping into his consciousness and taking command of his thoughts and actions. It ripped all thoughts away from him, leaving him only with the unwavering determination to protect Catherine.

No, it was not the fear of the beast, the one who mauled and killed with razor-sharp claws, that caused him to recoil, as she might have thought. It was something entirely different, so incredible that there was no way of grasping it. It started with a vibrating blackness that blinded him and forced him down onto his knees. Catherine’s worried voice calling his name was the last thing he heard before his senses were absorbed by a silence so deep and all-encompassing that it would have crushed a lesser spirit. Unlike his sense of time and space, Vincent’s sense of self was undiminished, and he knew with absolute clarity that he must not fight it, else he might turn into the raging beast that he could not control.

So he gave in to the familiar tugging that would coax his spirit to make room for a strange presence within him that would have its silent conversation with his heart. And it frightened him because it made the world as he knew it cease to be. Everything his reason might have tried to hold onto, fell apart and there was nothing left to anchor him. He knew he would remember none of this. The only thing he could do was open up and listen to a soundless voice that spoke to him, filling him with its secret message. As long as he was there, somewhere beyond space and time and reason, he knew that this was nothing threatening. He understood the message and even had a sense of where it came from and what it was meant for. This time, part of the message was for himself and he accepted it with gratitude and joy. Yet as soon as he returned, he would forget all of it instantly, and that would turn this experience into something unknown and therefore terrifying. It always happened that way.

She bowed her head and kissed his nose. “I take it you have no awareness of what you just said?”

He struggled to sit up. “What I said? Catherine, I spoke?”

She drew his head against her breast and stroked his hair, trying to soothe his suddenly agitated mind.

“Shhh, it’s all right, Vincent. Yes, you spoke and I will heed every single word of what you said to me. I promised to. No, please don’t ask for the words, for you made me promise not to tell you yet.”

“I made you promise not to tell me what I ... Catherine, that makes no sense!”

“Yes, I know, but that doesn’t matter. There is just one thing that I’m to tell you right now.”

“You asked me to tell you the words under the open sky, so that you would be able to understand.”

His head bowed, he struggled for words, hesitating to voice his question.

“Catherine, what have you seen? Why is it that you don’t ask about what happened with me?”

 
He raised his eyes to meet her intent gaze as she answered, “I promised not to.”

Smiling, he shook his head. “I suppose that must be quite hard on you.”

She poked his side and grinned up at him. “Let’s go to my balcony and look at the sky,” was all she said.

                                                                           *

His eyes traveled from the illuminated skyline up to the night sky and then back to her radiant face. “Yes, I can feel it, too.”

Moments of silence passed between them before Vincent spoke again. “Catherine, what happened earlier, down there at the threshold ...“

But she stopped him by seizing his arm. “No, Vincent, please! There is no need to explain anything.”

He let go of her hand and looked up to the stars. The sky above the city never grew completely dark, so only the brightest of them were visible. “I don’t know whether it is calm and quiet, for I remember nothing,” he said at last.

“Then that’s what you’re afraid of?”

He braced his hands against the balustrade and drooped his head. “It takes complete command of everything. The world as I know it vanishes, and I can’t control anything.”

Straightening abruptly, he recoiled from her touch. His voice sounded harsher than he would have meant it to. “How can you say that? Look at me! All my life I have been different, apart from the others, never able to really be one of them. I learned to live with that fact long ago, but now ... now there is you and me, Catherine, and I need so desperately to be a part of you, to share my life and myself with you. But how can I when I don’t even know who I am and what the stranger that I am could possibly do to you? No, please don’t say anything. When you say you love me, whom do you love? You don’t know me and I can’t tell you who I am because I don’t even know myself.” The sound of his voice was swallowed by a silent sob. This time, he didn’t reject her when her arms stole around him and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Would one who loves a tree only love the trunk because they can’t see the roots or reach the branches?”

 
He leaned back and lifted her face by a gentle touch of his finger to her chin. “Why do you say that, Catherine?”

“Because of what Manolo once said about you and because of what you said to me down there at the threshold.”

Vincent placed one arm around her shoulder and drew her close. Together they looked up to the stars, gazing silently at their peaceful twinkling.

“I asked you to remind me of something, didn’t I?” he said.

She nodded. “Never to be afraid of touching the skies, because to them the touch of the human spirit is a caress. The boundless skies love your caress, Vincent.” Lifting herself onto her toes in order to get near his ear she added, whispering, “As do I.”

He couldn’t resist her as she leaned against him. Encircling her waist with his hands, he pulled her even closer. She offered her mouth to him and he took it with passionate abandon.

“I love you, Catherine,” he breathed against her parted lips, “I love you so.”

No, he would no longer be afraid of reaching for the highest point. He would have it all and gladly give himself to it, to her, to Love.

At that instant, the gap in his memory closed and he knew. Being touched by the unknown had indeed been a form of being loved. Something wonderful had taken place each time he had been drawn into the silence beyond the world of reason. The messages of the soundless voice that spoke to his heart were meant to sustain himself and those whose lives came in touch with his. Thus he was able to give strength and warmth and light, like a beacon to those that were still on their cumbersome journey through the dark.

He recognized his destiny in letting his branches reach for the skies and bringing a bit of their boundlessness to all that was firmly rooted in the earth.

Catherine stirred in her sleep, and he turned to bend over her just in time to see the slightest of smiles playing across her face. He loved her so. Would he ever be able to live up to what he had been given when she came into his life? He knew what she would have answered to that and it made him smile.

Careful not to wake her, he drew the blanket up protectively to cover her bare shoulders. He could feel her reaching out to him in her dream. A wave of warmth and light engulfed his soul as he nestled closer to join her there.