SHE PERSISTED

by ChicagoTunnelKid

The young couple looked “dewy-eyed” at each other’s smiling face. At least, Vincent thought they qualified as fitting that description. Both Darrin and Amelia had pledged their troth in the joining ceremony. The fourth one this year, Vincent thought, but who’s counting?

He stared at the couple until their faces blurred and he went inside himself. It was easier to make it through the ceremony that way. A ceremony he was never to have. No smiling face looking back at him; no hearty congratulations from fellow residents; no jocular quips from the men about the wedding night or honeymoon; no fussing by Mary to make sure he looked his best while getting motherly advice on how a woman likes to be treated. Not for him.

He thought he had made peace with his life long ago. Father had done his best, but he emphasized to Vincent that some things others got to do would not be for him. He had a rough patch during his adolescence. Lisa was the exclamation point Father used to drive home his meaning. Not for him.

As he got older, he resigned himself to a life alone, without love. In recompense, he was driven Above during the nights to walk off his frustration and the claustrophobic feeling of aloneness that Below represented. Sure, it was his only place of safety. But safety wasn’t everything.

Then he found Catherine, and he was changed. His heart no longer listened to any logical entreaties. He loved without measure, without thought. And she loved him. She loved him. But Father still cautioned him that this path would only bring him unhappiness. At first, he could not understand what Father meant, for happiness infused his being. Their time together was short, but the happiness he felt with her, and after, kept him sane while he waited until the next time.

But as time went on, and their love deepened, Vincent came to know too well the unhappiness Father spoke about. Catherine felt it too, he knew from the Bond, but she rarely said anything about it. She respected that he had told her from their start that theirs was a love that could never be. So she tried not to press, but she was hurting, too. She had asked him only once if there would ever be a time they could be truly together. He gave an answer that sounded hopeful while noncommittal. He knew it couldn’t be. And it was becoming unbearable to be together.

Weddings held Below mocked him. He was supposed to be happy for the couple, and join in the festivities of celebration. But he didn’t feel like celebrating. He was envious of their happiness in each other and their future lives together. Then he was ashamed at his pettiness that he could not rejoice fully at his friends’ happiness. He would get angry at the unfairness of it all until, finally, feeling despair.

He stood off to the side in the Great Hall, the reception in full swing. He’d had enough. He turned and left to go back to his chamber. He flung himself on his bed and lay there in abject pity for himself.

Father saw Vincent leave and knew he was unhappy. He followed as quickly as his old bones would allow. Whatever was bothering Vincent, he didn’t want it to fester and get worse. Father knew it was better to get it out.

He stood in the entry. “Vincent? You left rather early. Darren and Amelia haven’t even left for the honeymoon yet.”

Vincent saw no need to respond as Father stated the obvious.

“You’ve been awfully quiet of late. What’s troubling you?” Father tried the direct approach. He went to a chair by the table and pulled it out to have a seat. And he waited. With both hands on the top of his walking stick, he leaned his chin on his hands and prepared to wait as long as needed. He would find out what was troubling his son.

Vincent laid his right arm across his forehead. Somehow, it was better not looking at Father right now. He sighed. Father was in one of his wait-it-out modes.

“I’m fine, Father. You needn’t worry.” Vincent learned from years of practice that less is better when it came to one of these discussions.

“’Fine,’ you say! Well, ‘fine’ would have you enjoying the party. ‘Fine’ would have you talking to friends. You are not fine, Vincent. If you were twelve, I’d say you were moping.” Father paused for effect. “Is it Catherine? Has something happened between you that is upsetting you?”

Without warning, Vincent sat up and spun around to face Father. “Nothing has happened. Nothing will ever happen. And I am trying to decide whether I can live with that, or not.”

Father visibly blanched. “Vincent, you aren’t thinking … I mean … you wouldn’t do anything rash?”

Vincent looked at the man who raised him, who loved him, and at the moment, he couldn’t muster up the energy to reassure him. He didn’t know the answer to Father’s question.

“Why would destiny be so unkind as to have Catherine and me meet when nothing may come of it?”

“What do you mean, nothing has come of it? Your love for each other gladdens us all. That is something.” Father was trying to cheer-lead for a losing team, and he knew it. Vincent wanted a full relationship with Catherine. Marriage, children, growing old together. He should have realized that joining ceremonies Below would begin to wear on Vincent.

“Words are empty, Father.  You were right, if not for the right reasons. But our relationship brings us unhappiness. Not because Catherine left me, or I left her. Because when we are together, there is a growing gulf between us. Being together is more of a reminder of what we don’t have – can’t have. I should never have gone to see her that day on her balcony.”

He grabbed his cape and strode off without so much as a “Farewell.” Father called after him, “Vincent! Wait. Vincent!” But he was gone.

* * *

His agitation had him striding at a pace that was almost a slow jog. He desperately needed some means of dispelling his pent-up frustration and anger. He gave up and began running. He fleetingly noticed the park bench by the bridge where he and Catherine sat one Halloween night. They had never been back. Why? Why had they not gone out again on a Halloween when it was safe for him?

He listened to the slap-slap-slap sound his soft-soled boots made on the ground. He ran to escape his thoughts. No, he ran to escape his feelings. Only, those feelings followed him wherever he went. It was early morning when he found himself on Catherine’s balcony. He had no recollection of deciding to go there, or the climb up.

His breathing slowed as he caught his breath from his run. Why was he here? Catherine was sleeping and needed her sleep. She had work in the morning. But to be this close caused his Bond to sing. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of her, her mind totally quiet in sleep. This feeling, his Bond with her, meant everything to him. For once in his life, he had someone who truly loved him. The joy he felt in that knowledge was no small thing. Lisa never made him feel like this, never was tethered to him through a Bond. That’s why he knew Catherine was the one for him.

But how could something that caused him so much joy cause an equal, if not greater, pain? They spent so little time together. She had her life Above, and he had his many demands Below. It was all they could manage. They talked of measuring their time together in another way, to downplay the little time it actually was. But they hadn’t come up with anything that lessened the desire to be together.

“You are not meant for love, Vincent.” Father’s admonition stung him to the quick. He had heard it often enough over the years. He had accepted it, as if pronounced from a higher court. Now, it chafed.

Why wasn’t he made for love? Catherine helped him understand that what happened with Lisa was less his Beast than it was an ill happenstance from having his nails too long. Yes, he felt a pull towards Lisa, and he had an initial resistance to letting her go, but she had given him no time to let go before she pulled away. And he would have let go because he was in control, not the Beast. It was just all so new to him. And Lisa had smelled so good, her skin so soft to the touch. He was infatuated. But he would never harm her. He understood that now, and even knew it then but his shame overpowered his rational thought.

Over the years, as he grew older, he would ask Father, “Why aren’t I meant for love?” Father for the longest time told him they would discuss it when he was older. He began to believe he would never be old enough. But came the day when Father sighed deeply, and motioned for him to sit down next to him at his table. Be careful what you wish for. Vincent finally understood that maxim.

“Vincent, no matter how I say this, it will hurt. I would do anything to prevent hurting you, but you will not let this be.” He grasped Vincent’s hand that was lying on the table. “My son, I truly wish you could be like all the rest of the boys, the men, here Below. But you are not.

“We celebrate your differences down here, Vincent. Most of us barely see you as different anymore. You are loved by many. Yet you want the one part of love that is for you alone, and that cannot be.”

Vincent started to speak, but Father raised his hand to halt him. “Let me finish, please.” He gathered his thoughts.

“There is more than one reason I say this. One reason is from my own experience. And before you say that my experience need not dictate yours, I know. But I have been more disappointed by love than happy from it. I don’t want that for you. Where I could, if I chose, have any number of women from Above to choose from to form a love match, you have only the women here Below, and they are more sisters to you than anything else.

“What if you found a woman from Above? But think about this a moment. This woman would have a life, a purpose Above. What can you give her here Below? What woman from Above would be satisfied to live in a hole in the ground, as Devin puts it? Living a simple life, a hard life, as we try the best we can to exist in safety down here. Even if you get a woman from Above to come down here, do you really think she would stay?

“Last, while we all love you, you are different, Vincent. You have something inside you that the rest of us do not. I have told you that part of you is a man, but part of you is not. How do we know if it is wise for you to be with a human woman? We don’t even know if you could have children with a woman. These are questions a woman would want to know the answers to. Does the woman want children? Could she give that up for you? Not resent you for it later?

“Look at what happened to you after Lisa. You had a spell that I thought you’d never get over, that nearly took you from us. Your Beast feels things strongly, Vincent. Maybe that includes love. That could be a double-edged sword – not only would you feel very strongly while in love, but perhaps you would be, ahem, more strenuous in your physical pursuits with a woman than she is used to. And if the relationship ends, you would feel that as strongly, and it could crush you.”

By this time, Vincent’s head hung low, his shoulders slumped. Father was right. Love was not for him. He pulled his hand out from Father’s as he stood. “Thank you for you honesty, Father.” He walked out a dejected man.

Father’s words echoed in his head as he stared at Catherine’s balcony doors. Funny how his finding her, befriending her, had almost driven out Father’s words. But as optimistic as she was, the dreamer, he knew in the cold light of day that the truth would not change. He would always be a Beast. He would always be different. The question he now faced was what to do about it. Being with her was sweet torture, for them both. Even seeing the love all around him Below in the happy couples as they found one another was now tortuous. How much longer could he tolerate it before – well, before something happened that he couldn’t control.

He was turning to leave when he ran into a chair next to the small outdoor table. It scraped against the concrete floor of the balcony, and Vincent knew it would wake Catherine. Sure enough, he heard the snick of the door clearing the latch.

“Vincent!” she said as she happily flew into his arms. “You are out very late.” It was then that she noticed the tracks of tears down his face. “Vincent, what is it? What is wrong? Is it Father?”

He clasped her upper arms and stood her away from him.

“Catherine, you must forget you ever met me.” With that, he withdrew over the balcony wall and left her, astonished at his words.

* * *

She recovered quickly and dashed back into her bedroom. She pulled on her jeans even as she stepped out of her nightgown; next she pulled on a sweatshirt, and slipped into her running shoes. She left her apartment, barely remembering to lock her door.

She figured that if she ran after reaching the tunnels below her building, she just might beat Vincent to his chamber, if he was going back to his chamber. That was the one unknown in the situation she was in.

Out of breath, she slowed as she reached his chamber. She walked in, hoping to find him there. It was dark, with no Vincent. She waited a few minutes, lighting a candle to ease back the darkness. Still no Vincent. At this point, she decided Father must be told.

Since the hour was very early morning, or very late night, depending on your point of view, she called out before entering, expecting him to be asleep.  “Father? Father, it’s Catherine. May I come in?”

She heard some stirring, and a garbled “Mhmph.” Before long, she heard him shuffling to his entry. “Catherine? What brings you here so early?”

“It’s Vincent, Father. Something is wrong. He came to see me. All he would say to me was that I should forget I ever met him. And he left. But Father, there were tears on his face. He had been crying. Something is wrong, deeply wrong. I feel it. Now I don’t know where he’s gone. He’s not in his chamber.” By this point, she was pacing back and forth as she relayed her story. Vincent did the same when he was upset.

“Do you have any idea what this is about?” She turned to look at him squarely. He noted her unshed tears forming. How brave she is, trying not to show her fear, he thought.

“There was a joining today. Darrin and Amelia,” he explained as if that mattered. He paused and fingered the fringe on his robe. “I think Vincent found it difficult.”

“He’s been to joinings before. Why would this one be difficult?” A thought jabbed at Catherine. “Did he have feelings for her?” She closed her eyes, steeling herself for his answer.

“No, nothing like that.” He saw her relax a bit. “No, there have been a number of joinings this year.” He bowed his head. “It weighs on him, Catherine, that he can’t be joined with you.”

She stared at him. She counted to ten. Added five more for good measure. “And why can’t he, if he so chose?”

Father recognized that “oh-so-polite” voice of Catherine’s and knew he was in for it. Feeling a bit cowardly, he chose to punt this discussion to Vincent. After all, it was his relationship. “That is for Vincent to share.”

“Fine,” she said sharply. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps by the waterfall. That’s a favorite thinking place of his.”

She spun on her foot and strode out.

Father sighed. He did not envy his son having the conversation he was about to have. Catherine scared him. He wondered if she scared Vincent when she was like this.

* * *

Her anger gave her momentum. More of this drivel! Well, she had enough of it, and it would end here and now. And where does he come off thinking he can just drop that little gem of forgetting him and then leave without so much as a “Goodbye?” She had a thing or two in rebuttal and the least he could do was hear her out. But he had run. All too familiar a pattern. Well, if she ever found him, he would listen if she had to tie him up to get him to do it!

Her anger was finally vented, and just as well, as she approached the waterfalls. There he sat, a dejected heap of cape and hair. His thoughts were so much his own that he didn’t hear her approach.

“Don’t you ever do that again!” she chastised.

His head snapped up. “Catherine, what are you doing here?”

“You don’t get to tell me to forget you and not talk about it, Vincent. It is not only your decision to make.”

“But it is, Catherine.” He managed to look at her. “This can’t go on. It isn’t working. Not for me and, I think, not so much for you either. It’s time to let go.”

She just stared at him. Uncomfortable with the stare and the silence, he shifted on the rock he was sitting on. Why wasn’t she yelling?

“Catherine, you need more from a relationship than I can give you. It’s time we both admit that. We’ve been living in a dream world, thinking our love was all that mattered. And it was – for a while. But no more.”

“Have I said it wasn’t enough, Vincent?”

He shook his head.

“So, it’s you who says it isn’t enough.” He looked away. “Tell me, how isn’t my love enough for you?”

His head ached from so much emotion, and the crying had made him dehydrated.  He stood up abruptly, taking a few steps away.

“It just isn’t.” His shoulders slumped. “Leave it alone, Catherine. No good can come from this.”

“I’m not looking for good, Vincent. I want to know how I’ve failed you. Because up until now, you’ve apparently led me on a fine little dance letting me think we were both in love, and working on something real.”

He had the grace to cringe at that. He sighed. “It isn’t you, it’s me.”

“Oh, that’s priceless, Vincent. The old chestnut ‘It isn’t you, it’s me.’

 Well, just how is it you, then?”

He spun around in full fury, fangs bared and accompanied by a growl that left no doubt at his displeasure.

She never flinched.

He stood there, tilted his head in wonder. Not even a flinch. How could she do that?

“Is that the best you’ve got?” she dared.

He deflated. He held his hands out from his sides in a gesture that said, “That’s it.”

“Let me give this a whirl for you, Vincent. You think because you are different, a Beast, that you can’t be with me. You are afraid that you could hurt me somehow.” She looked at him. “How am I doing?”

“That’s part of it.”

A thought occurred to her. “Just to be clear. We are talking about sex, right?”

His breath caught. He couldn’t scare her, but she certainly scared him with her directness.

“Yes.”

“Okay. If that’s not all, let’s hear the rest.”

“Look around you, Catherine.” She did as he asked.

“Okay. Now what?”

“We come from two different worlds. You wouldn’t be happy living Below and I can’t live Above safely. And even if you tried, when you left, and you would leave, it would kill me.”

She suddenly knew he was not embellishing for dramatic effect. His heart clutched at his own words, and she felt that through the Bond. She wasn’t certain that a separation wouldn’t have the same effect. She knew how strongly it would impact her.

“So you are, in principle, eschewing relationships with women, or at least women Above, and, in particular, with me.” She paused to watch his reaction. His gaze flittered everywhere but at her. “Tell me, Vincent, does this include all women, even those Below?”

“Yes.”

She barely heard his answer, it was so lightly said.

“And this is fine with you? No more love for Vincent, just live your life Below, working and protecting.”

He turned and faced the falls, staring at the falling water. “I haven’t decided that yet.”

Her eyes opened wide at his admittance, for that was what it was. If it wasn’t fine with him, it would be his end. Suddenly, she was afraid, afraid that she would lose him for good, that her words would not reach him.

“It isn’t your fault.” It was almost like he could read her thoughts. Or felt her fear.

She marched up to him, and pulled him around to face her. “You listen to me, Vincent. I am tired of hearing Father’s words come out of your mouth. If you don’t love me any more, I will do my best to accept that. But I think you do love me. I think you love me so much it hurts. It hurts, Vincent, because we both want more. We both need more. We love each other so deeply that it is only natural to want to share that love with each other. Yes, I want that. I have wanted that for a long time. But I respected your wishes, thinking that time would have you coming to the same conclusion I have. We belong together, Vincent. Destiny set out a path for us, but it was up to us to choose it. Our decisions are our own. We picked each other. Why would you even think we couldn’t make it work?”

“Because I’m not human, Catherine!” His eyes flashed as he said it. “You and I may both like to think I am, but I am not. You deserve to fall in love with a real man. Someone you can form a family with, have children with.”

“Bullshit!”

He took a slight step back at her profanity.

“You heard me; bullshit!” She straightened up to her full diminutive height, put her hands on her hips and let him have it. “You are human enough for me, and that should be all that matters. You are more human than most of the humans I know. And if we can’t have children, well, we can adopt. Look at the children Below. They would love to have you as a father, and I think I would pass as a mother.” He was about to insist she would be a great mother, but she forestalled his speech. “Bottom line, Vincent, I … don’t … care. And I love you, whatever you are.”

He stood there, his mind reeling at her words. Could it be as simple as that? Her choice? Lord knows, she knew all about him. From reclaiming him from his last “spell,” to his killing, and everything in between.

He cut her a sideways glance as he thought. “You aren’t afraid of me, that I’ll hurt you when we …”

“Make love?” she supplied. “Vincent, what do you think the Bond is for? You’ve used it to protect me all along. Why would it be different when we make love? You are incapable of physically hurting me; emotionally is a different issue. If you stop loving me, I’ll be the one to waste away.”

“I could never stop loving you, Catherine.” He said it quietly, but pointedly, his head dipping down in supplication.

They were both silent, digesting the words between them.

“What about Below not being enough for you? You tried once before …” he tried another argument in what he feared was becoming a losing battle.

The statement hung between them.

“Daddy’s death threw me for a loop. You helped me find my center again, Vincent. It just wasn’t the right time. It was running away, not making a choice.”

He gave a little shrug. “Still, you haven’t answered the question.”

She sighed. “I honestly don’t know. But do we have to define the issue as 100% Above or 100% Below?”

“What else is there?” he looked genuinely saddened. “I can’t live Above, that’s a 0%. So we continue as we are? Snatching moments together? Even if we were to join,” he shifted uncomfortably at the thought, “it would be no different than now.”

“There would be a big difference, Vincent. We would be lovers. And lovers are very good at finding time to be together.”

She had the good grace to blush a little, even as he squirmed.

“There could be other solutions, if we only looked for them. Honestly, is my apartment building the only one with a tunnel entrance? Could there not be a building we could make a home with an entrance Below? Safe and secure for you, together for me?”

“Areas close to the tunnels are usually slow to turn over because the locations are so good for businesses.” She noticed he hadn’t turned down the idea.

“So, maybe in time …” she prompted.

“… something could open up. But then, I have no money.”

“Lucky for us, I have plenty.” She smiled. She could see him winding up for an argument. “So help me, Vincent, if you tell me it’s the man’s job to provide the housing, I’m going to have to hurt you.” She looked up into his eyes. “And Isaac has taught me interesting ways to do it!”

“It just points once again to the differences between us, is all. What do I have to offer you?”

She knew the question was serious. She treated it so. “I suspect any property we find will need a lot of work, and that you do well. But, besides your labor, you give me everything, Vincent. I have never known a man who gave his love so unselfishly, who supported me in every way, who knew me better than I know myself, and helped me grow in ways that made me feel more empowered in my life.

“Besides, love is not a score-card, Vincent. You rarely let me spend money on you or the community. So what have I to give you?”

She asked the question so that he might think about how unequal they each felt to the other, yet each knew the other loved them unreservedly.

“Catherine, you give the world to me! You’ve opened doors for me I never expected to go through. You have changed me. I think more in possibilities than dreams. You give your love freely when I had never thought anyone could love me. You accept me as I am. You are my heart, Catherine.”

“And you are mine.” She closed the gap between them and hugged him. “I think we are stuck with each other, Vincent.” She spoke into his ear, as her head burrowed into his hair, a spot she loved.

“So where are we?” Vincent asked, because he wasn’t altogether sure he hadn’t proposed to her.

“Where do you want to be?” she asked, her voice muffled in his hair.

“With you, Catherine. For the rest of our lives.”

“Mmmm.” The muffled response sounded wonderful to Vincent. “Do you think the rest of our lives could start now?” She pulled back with a smile and a definite twinkle in her eyes.

One more door just opened, he thought. Oh, how I love this woman!  He hugged her closer and spun her around. Life with Catherine would never be dull!

* * *

Father tried not to worry, and failed miserably. He had not seen either his son or Catherine nearly all day. With Vincent so upset, he feared for what Vincent might do. Still, a very determined woman went after him. Finally, a pipe message was sent: “Father – you were wrong – Vincent.”

Thank God! The old man smiled. Well done, Catherine! Well done!