run13

On Monday Catherine spent her noon hour shopping. Vincent had asked for her understanding, and she decided to give him all the support she could. Under her arm she carried a lightweight book bag she had found in the bottom of her closet. Into it she had stuffed her copy of the Owl Woman fable to go with the O'Donnell book she had given Vincent. She also enclosed a snapshot of herself taken in front of the fountain at the summer house. Now she was at the counter of a camping supply store asking about non-perishable foods. She bought a unique mixture of dried fruits, nuts, and grains, and the clerk talked her into several other strange parcels of dehydrated food with the assurance all the astronauts used them. She smiled to herself at the irony of the new definition of Above and Below.

Returning to her office, Catherine approached her desk and put her purchases in her chair as she picked up an envelope which lay next to her phone. She asked a secretary if anyone had been at her desk during the noon hour, and she was told a new boy from the mail room had asked about her. Catherine took off her coat and opened the letter. It was from Father. She frowned. In precise lettering which disproved the theory of physicians' handwriting, she read the brief note asking her to come to Father's study in the early afternoon. For an instant, she feared for Vincent, but the note held no hint of urgency. Still, Father was asking her to leave her work to come Below. With an uneasy feeling, she went to Joe's office and told him she had an important interview and would not be in the office for the rest of the afternoon. With her packages under her arm she returned to her apartment and dressed to go Below.

***
Vincent was working on a final project in the lower regions when he became aware of Catherine's presence in the Tunnels. It was far too early for her to be finished at her office. Excusing himself from the other workers, he picked up his shirt and cloak and pulled the shirt over his head as he strode upwards. His cloak flowed behind him as he entered the home Tunnels. Catherine was in Father's chamber. Their bond told him she was slightly anxious, but her primary emotion was concern over the separation which lay before them.

Although his face and clothes were streaked with grime from below, Vincent decided not to take the time to wash. Catherine's need was not critical, but he had the distinct impression she was summoning him. Going straight to Father's study, he paused at the top of the steps and looked down to see Catherine sitting across the large octagonal table from Father. She was pale, and the atmosphere in the chamber was tense.

"Ah, Vincent. I was just about to send for you." Father indicated a third chair at the table. "Come in. Sit down."

Frowning slightly, Vincent came down the stairs and studied Catherine's face. "You are early. Is something wrong?"

Catherine held out a hand to him, and he came to her side. She answered as he clasped her fingers, "Father asked me to come."

"Sit down, Vincent. I was just about to pour Catherine some tea. Would you like a cup?" Without waiting for a response, Father pulled the teapot nearer, filled three cups, and pushed one in front of each of his guests. Vincent began to pull the third chair closer to Catherine's, and Father stopped him. "No. Leave the chair where it is, son."

Vincent and Catherine shared a surprised glance, and Vincent responded defensively, "Father, what is this?"

"Sit down." The authoritative tone left little room for hesitation. Vincent released Catherine's hand and lowered his body into the chair. Cocking his head strangely at Father, he reached for the cup and put it to his lips as his eyes met Father's. Father sighed inwardly as memories of a very young Vincent in that same chair came to his mind. Those same cerulean eyes had stared at him in innocence... and in challenge...countless times over the years. But the relationship between him and his son no longer involved just the two of them. There was now a third person to consider, and her influence upon his son was not to be
underestimated.

A sound at the entrance drew their attention, and Father looked up. "Kipper."

"Yes. I was going to send you for Vincent. But now that he is already here, I would appreciate it if you would settle yourself down the tunnel a ways and insure our privacy for a while. The three of us have talking to do, and I would rather not be interrupted by unexpected visitors."

Kipper nodded in mild surprise. Father's study was almost never closed to visitors. "What about the other entrances?"

Kipper glanced at Vincent once and left, grateful he was not involved in whatever had put Father in this mood.

Vincent set down his cup and pushed his chair back from the table. "Father, I have no idea what this is all about, but I think it is quite likely you are over-reacting."

Catherine spoke softly, "No, Vincent." She met Father's look coolly. He had said nothing to her yet, but she had no doubt why they had been called here together. Vincent was well, and the "truce" was over. "I know why we are here." She held the older man's gaze with the calculated confidence she usually reserved for her appearances in court. Father was about to present a case, and she was to be her own defense counsel.

Vincent looked from one to the other, astonished at the tensions which surged between his father and the woman he loved. Two months had passed since Father had warned his son away from Catherine, and Vincent had begun to believe Father had grown to accept her presence in his life.

Father broke the silence. "Catherine, I do not want to appear ungrateful. Your contribution to Vincent's recovery has been invaluable..." His voice stopped, leaving the next comment unsaid.

Catherine knew the rest of the thought. Her mind flooded with the memory of Father's reaction in this same room the night Vincent was hurt. When she had told Father why Vincent was on the lower East Side, the older man had blamed her for Vincent's disappearance. I have warned him, pleaded with him, and now this...if he's caught above...your relationship with my son is a tragic mistake, for both of you. And then again in Vincent's chamber, Catherine had overheard Father tell Mary, This is what her caring has done to him. Catherine almost whispered, "But you believe the healing would not have been necessary if it were not for me."

Vincent sat astonished that the two of them would talk this way about him as if he were not even here.

Father continued, "This relationship is no less a mistake now than it was two months ago. I am sorry, Catherine. Understand this is nothing personal...I have a great deal of respect for you and the life you have chosen to live Above. But Vincent's life is here Below. There can be no place..."

"Stop it, Father!" There was a crash of teacups as Vincent's fist came down hard upon the table and the massive figure came to his feet. "How can you sit there and say these things to Catherine! After all she has done! How can you use her...allow her to spend weeks of her time, nursing me...helping both of us...giving of herself to us and to our people.....and then you turn on her like this! With no compassion, no warning!" Anger and hurt flashed in his eyes as his fingers curled into trembling fists.

"Vincent." Catherine remained seated, surprisingly calm. "I knew." He stared at her as she continued, "Father and I came to an agreement...almost immediately after you were hurt. I agreed to let Father use me, to use our bond, for as long as necessary."

She nodded. "You were hurt so badly...you were so sick...both of us would have done anything to have you well again."

Father took a napkin and wiped up the tea that had sloshed out of his cup. "Vincent, I am sorry I did not warn you about this meeting." He wadded the napkin and left it in a ball on the tea tray. Refilling his cup, he looked up calmly. "But if you had known my purpose, I do not think either you or Catherine would be here now." He leaned back in his chair. "And I felt this meeting was essential before you leave. I have spoken to each of you individually on this subject to no avail, so I think it is time for an understanding between the three of us. Now would you please sit down again?"

"Now," Father resumed, "If I may, I would like to make a proposal." He waited, and at last his son sank back into the chair.

"Vincent, it was your decision to leave on this journey. I believe you said you needed to be alone, to think. Am I correct?"

She nodded and locked eyes with Vincent. She wished she could touch him, but Father had carefully adjusted the chairs at a distance which did not allow for physical contact between them. She spoke to Father, but her eyes never left Vincent's. "He said he has decisions to make."

"Very well. Then what I have to say will only give another dimension to that purpose." He cleared his throat. "I assume, Vincent, your primary decision concerns your going Above on a regular basis."

Father continued, "Both Catherine and I have been aware for some time that you have discontinued your customary forays Above. I understand you and Catherine recently had a discussion which culminated in a walk in the rain Above...so I presume that decision will now be a logical one, and not one made under the influence of irrational fears and inhibitions."

The cup in front of Vincent had become an object of fascination for him. A long claw outlined the dainty pattern on its side as the tea inside grew cold. Catherine almost had to smile at him in spite of the seriousness of this conversation. He looked so like a little boy being lectured on an uncomfortable subject.

"I would like to request that you apply that same reasonable approach to the consideration of another decision." When Vincent still would not look at him, Father turned to the young woman. "Catherine, you are an attorney. Although my field is medicine, not law, I have endeavored to develop a logical and reasonable case supporting my belief that you and Vincent must discontinue this dangerous relationship."

A gasp and an audible release of air came from Vincent's direction, and the maned head lay back against his chair as he breathed through open lips.

Father went on in spite of the interruption, "And I am prepared to strengthen my case with a proposition."

Vincent looked so miserable, Catherine could no longer find humor in this situation. "What are you suggesting, Father?" She desperately wished she could touch Vincent. Father had planned his strategy well. By putting this distance between them, he was attempting to divide and conquer. And he was directing his presentation primarily toward her, knowing she was accustomed to legal briefs and testimony.

"I am suggesting you both listen to me...truly listen." He aimed the last words at Vincent. "For the three weeks Vincent is gone, I want you both to think about my words. To weigh them carefully and reasonably...and if, at the end of that time, you both still are committed to this relationship, I will no longer stand in your way."

"But there is one more thing." Father looked from one to the other. "This is a decision I want you both to reach independently, without influence or even unconscious coercion from the other. For that reason, I must require that you suppress your bond for this time."

Vincent's fingers tightened around the teacup visibly, and Father reached across the table to take the china cup from him, fearing that Vincent's hand was about to be filled with shards of shattered porcelain.

When the cup was safely out of reach, Catherine found her voice. "Vincent," she frowned, "can you do that? Can you suppress our bond? Could you break it?" She knew she had no control over the tie between them, and she had assumed Vincent did not either.

After a long moment, Vincent finally answered softly, "I can't break it." He paused, "But there were times...during the eight months after you returned to your world...when I found I could close it and refuse to acknowledge it."

Father nodded. "Catherine, you must realize. The bond can be a great burden to Vincent, even to the point of endangering the people he loves here Below."

"It distracts him from his obligations here, it inhibits his concentration, and more than once it has caused him to endanger the men he works with." Father paused, "But the greatest danger to us all is the threat it presents to Vincent himself. Catherine, how many times can he come to protect you before..." His voice thickened, and he ran his fingers through his hair. In a moment he continued, "We almost lost him this last time."

"Father," Vincent's voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. "It was my decision to follow her. She did not even want me there."

"Oh, come now, Vincent. I know you. Catherine knows you. Do you think either of us believes you can be aware of her danger and ignore it? As long as the bond exists, you will respond to protect her...to kill for her...and as she begins to depend upon your aid she is bound to take it for granted. The danger to you...and to her...cannot help but escalate."

Catherine recoiled. Could that be true? Could she eventually grow careless enough to put Vincent into danger unnecessarily?

Father asked his son, "Have you considered the hardships the bond places upon Catherine?" Vincent frowned back at him. "Her life is Above. She is a young woman...she has a right to a future, a home, a husband, children...all the things you cannot offer her." Father saw Vincent flinch, but the older man did not pause. "When she was falling in love with Elliot Burch your bond had to have been a barrier to her."

"Perhaps not. But the longer this goes on, the more painful your inevitable separation will become. During the time you were seeing Burch Vincent's pain was almost unbearable. I don't want to watch him g through that again." He paused, "And there will be other men...Catherine, you deserve other men." He looked again at his son. "Vincent, do you deny that?"

"It is not my intention to be cruel. I am trying very hard to make you both look at this situation realistically, objectively...rather than blindly following your hearts like a couple of love-sick schoolchildren."

Father sipped his tea, letting his point hang above them. Finally he continued softly, "Then there is the matter of the secrets Vincent has been sworn to keep. Son, since you were a child you have known our most important rule was to keep ourselves separate and secret from the world Above. Yet you brought Catherine here in spite of the Council and the law."

Vincent could sit still no longer. He pushed his chair further back and came to his feet. "Father, we have been through that over and over."

Vincent turned his back. Father sighed and looked at Catherine. Her eyes were following Vincent's every move. The older voice spoke to them both. "But that is in the past. Our interest here is the future. Both of you must know every time Vincent goes Above our secret is placed in jeopardy. Our world is very fragile. Every stranger who suspects Vincent's existence is a threat to us. Every unexplained incident, every hint of something out of the ordinary, brings us closer to exposure." He hesitated, "I cannot even guess at the number of people who have seen Vincent on the lower East Side alone." Father turned to the young woman. "Catherine, think of the police records. How many bodies can Vincent leave behind before someone in the department suspects the pattern? I have little love for your legal system, but surely they are not stupid." He added quietly, "And what of your own ethics? Catherine, you are an attorney...associated with the office of the District Attorney, and you know the secret behind multiple unexplained killings. How do you rationalize your own breach of ethics?"

Vincent was pacing now. He had not removed his cloak, and it flared behind him, giving emphasis to his distress and growing frustration.

Catherine had no answer for Father's question. She had struggled with this impasse before. It was becoming increasingly difficult to face Joe as the various accounts came across his desk. There were pictures, of men with their chests and stomachs laid open and looks of terror in their lifeless eyes. She had even wondered once in a weakened moment if there was truly a difference between Vincent and Jason. Jason had killed to save the defenseless masses; Vincent killed to protect only her. Neither of them had legal justification. She looked up and watched Vincent. There was no answer for her, except that she was bound to this massive pacing figure. Bound in a way which gave her no choice, but to protect his secret and to be willing to die to protect him.

Father rubbed his forehead between his thumb and forefinger. He was developing a serious headache, and Vincent's pacing was not helping it. "I believe you have both chosen an impossible path. It can lead nowhere, except to grief and destruction. Other couples can progress from friendship into love and a permanent relationship...marriage. But, Vincent, you have moved into a situation which was never meant for you...one that can never be. You and I both know why."

Vincent's head jerked up, and he shot a warning look at Father. Father grasped the alarm in that look and immediately changed his direction. He sighed heavily. "Well, that is my case. I want no decisions from you now. What I do want is for you both to think carefully about what I have said. I want you to spend three weeks apart, functioning outside your bond...and to weigh all of the truths and facts against the emotions you feel."

Vincent came back to the table directly across from his father. "And at the end of that time...?"

Father sighed. "At the end of that time, if you have kept your part of the bargain, I shall keep mine."

Vincent lowered his chin to one side and looked at Father through narrowed eyes. "If we still choose to follow our hearts..."

The headache was building up behind Father's eyes and moving down the back of his neck. He sighed again. "I will not stand in your way." He saw Vincent's shoulders relax. "But, Vincent. No bond...for three weeks."

Vincent's eyes rested upon Catherine. She was very pale, and the emotions he was receiving from her were blurred. "Catherine?"

She forced a smile. When she tried to speak her mouth was dry, and she cleared her throat. "You were going anyway."

She pushed her chair back and came to Vincent. Embracing him, she looked up into his eyes. "Does it truly affect you to the point that you cannot concentrate?"

With her hand on Vincent's arm she turned to Father. "This place where Vincent is going...is it dangerous?"

She turned back to meet Vincent's eyes again. "You already told me I would have to let my fear keep me safe because you could not come to me. If I have to take care of myself, you have to take care of yourself, too. I don't want anything making your trip more dangerous than it already is. If suppressing the bond will help..." She hesitated. "Will I be able to tell the difference?"

Father's chair slid back against the carpet, and he reached for his cane. "Very well." He stood. "Now if you two will excuse me, I am in serious need of an aspirin. Would you go tell Kipper to run along?" He moved toward the medicine box behind the stairs. With a backward glance he asked Vincent, "When are you leaving?"

"I see. I have some things for you. Stop by here while you are packing. May I invite the children and the others here to say goodbye?"

"Bring Catherine with you." Father looked at her with regret in his eyes. "I am sorry, Catherine. I wish things could be different. You are a good woman."

She returned his look, and he was not surprised to see a tear slip down her cheek. Vincent caressed her once more, then the two of them left the chamber together.