And that face, the face of a man with cold eyes looked at him with no fear.

Vincent looked back at him in bewilderment. As the helicopter flew out of sight, Vincent turned back toward the smell of blood.

He prayed if it were indeed Catherine that she’d be alive.

She replayed the doctor’s words. “Morphine… If it doesn’t kill you, get out of here and hide. Never show your face again.” He didn’t say the words but as he injected it straight into her vein, his eyes seemed to almost hold an apology. Almost doesn’t count.

It was like someone had walked across her grave. It shook her. She had to get out. How?

Catherine was laying there feeling tired, hopeless, miserable and alone when Vincent burst through the closed door.

She turned her head as swiftly as she could and heard Vincent call “Catherine!” In surprise and then whispered brokenly “Cathe…rine.”

Tears filled his vision as he rushed to her side, but stopped for a brief second as the smell of morphine assailed his nostrils.

“No! NO! Catherine, we must hurry. We must…” Then he smelled the blood…her life sustenance leaving her…

“Vincent…” She touched his face, his tears. Felt her own as he brushed his hand across her cheek, his thumb brushed under her eye.

“You’re hurt. Catherine, where are you hurt?” He smelled the antiseptics, felt the hospital like surroundings. He turned around facing away from her, took in the stirrups, the blood on the floor, between her legs. Frightened to hear what happened, but knew he had to know, fear crawling up his spine like an icy spider he asked “What happened?”

“There’s a child.” Her words slow; her body sluggish. The morphine was taking effect. Although his mind was going numb with fear and his body started shaking with rage, his chest tightening in worry; un-clenching his jaw, he spoke.

“A child?” He cocked his head to the side, confused.

She smiled a small tight smile and told him- “We loved, Vincent. He’s beautiful.” Vincent picked up her shoulders, slid his arm underneath them. He could feel her get heavier, saw her getting more sluggish. “They took him. Vincent…below; get Below.”

His mind suddenly caught up with his body and he gently lowered her back down. She was struggling to stay awake to help him get her ready to leave. He wasted no time now.

He found a towel, turned the warm water on and quickly cleaned her up as best as he could. Later he might realize what he had had to do but now he was worried about her bleeding and his biggest fear that she would die. He would NOT lose her again.

Grabbing another towel, he put it between her legs and quickly wrapped the sheet around her. Dropping his cloak, he then proceeded to untie his vest. Slipping the vest off his shoulders, he pulled his thicker sweater over his head and roused Catherine.

“You must put this on Catherine. It’ll keep you warm.”

She helped him slip the sweater over her head and she struggled to put her arms through the sleeves, grateful for his help.

Vincent had seen the needle marks and it made him cringe with fear even more. Anger once again rushed through him and yet again he pushed it away. Now was not the time. He had to get her Below. He didn’t know how much morphine was given to her but he was sure it was meant to kill her.

After adjusting his vest and cloak, Vincent gently picked her up in his arms.

She whispered, a breathy sound to his ears; “Forgive me.” Her head on his shoulder felt instantly heavy. His heart skipped a beat and he let loose a few tears and his heart responded ‘There is nothing to forgive.’

He wasted no more time. With fear, anger, and love driving him on, he quickened his pace out of the building. Through alleyways he strode purposely to an old tunnel passage way where he knew the pipes were seldom used but always on patrol. He tapped out a quick urgent message for Father. “Meet in hospital chamber. V” He adjusted Catherine’s weight and continued on.

~*~

Mary had been walking back from retrieving some blankets for a new mother when she heard the urgent tapping on the pipes. She listened and deciphered the code quickly. She quickened her pace, her heartbeat racing faster now than it had been.

As luck would have it, the older daughter of the new mother was looking for Mary and called out to her as Amanda saw her.

“Mary! There you are- Mother thought you may have needed some help…” She saw an expression on Mary’s face that spoke of urgency. “Is…everything alright?”

Mary smiled kindly and told Amanda that she was needed elsewhere and asked if her mother was alright?

“Yes Mary, I will take the blankets to her.” Mary sighed with relief and handed over the much needed blankets for the newest baby.

She made her apologies and quickly turned down the next passage to lead her down the hospital chambers.

~*~

“FATHER!”

Father looked up sharply from his text book, and glared slightly at the young man before him. “Yes Geoffrey, what is so urgent?” He knew he was gruff and impatient. His thoughts were not on the text before him, but on Vincent and the loss of Catherine.

“It’s Vincent! He needs you in the hospital chambers, quickly, Father, quickly!” Geoffrey rushed over to the desk to help Father more quickly.

Father moved as fast as he possibly could, while realizing he was so lost in thought that he had actually not heard the tapping. Geoffrey caught him as he stumbled slightly, bringing himself out of his reverie once more. They reached the passage way to the hospital when Mary brought them up short.

“Geoffrey, run along and have William put on some tea, and some stew, please.” Mary waited for Geoffrey to let go of Father and turn before she grabbed him.

“Come Mary; Let us pray he is not wounded again.”

They entered one right after the other and stopped still, neither believing their own eyes.

~*~

After he had tapped out his message, he looked down at Catherine and noticed her wan complexion and realized she had passed out. He ran the last of the way through the tunnels to the Hospital Chamber. He did not stop until he could put her down. He projected out all the love he had for her.

Vincent sat on the other side of the bed facing the entrance; they easily saw who lie on the bed.

“Vin…” Mary gasped and came up quietly to the bed.

Father joined her side and spoke quietly and urgently. “Tell us, Vincent. Please what has happened?”

Vincent lifted her hand against his cheek. As he looked up at them, he knew tears were racing down his face, gently warming Catherine’s cool fingertips.”She… has been drugged…” He took a breath and let it out in big sigh, a mournful sound.”She has had a…child. She needs our help. Catherine has lost a lot of blood. Please, there’s not much time. Please?”

As they moved her bed to the other side of the room, he felt his strength leave him. Just as he was trying to stand tall, Mary noticed the slight wilt of his shoulders and she commanded that he rest.

“No. I must stay. I…please…” His voice broke and he whispered.”If she wakes, she will need me close by. I need to be close.”

She understood what his heart spoke louder than his words. “Rest in here; on one of the beds.” She led him to one nearer the exam chamber and watched him as he sat first then lay back on the cot. She prayed that now when hope was so near, hope would help them fight, would help them live, would give them the courage and strength to face what they would inevitably have to face.

In his sleep, Vincent’s soul knew Catherine was not well. As he was waking up from a world where all things “shimmer and float” he heard Father and Mary murmuring to one another. All was not lost; it was just another battle to keep what was his.

The post Death Shall Have No Dominion: Chapter 1 appeared first on Beauty and The Beast Fanfiction.

The very fact that Vincent had cleaned Catherine, wrapped her in towels and a sheet-amazed Father to no end. His father’s heart was proud and his doctor’s eye held pride for what his son had learned.

Mary brought warm water over first with the necessary rags and towels. He stepped back for Mary to tend to her cleaning and went to remove the sweater from Catherine.

Mary, too, was proud of the way Vincent had known to clean and wrap Catherine for the journey home. She knew it must not have been easy.

She worked quickly; easily becoming a nurse. She gently washed away the blood and knew that if she could cleanse Catherine’s and Vincent’s souls’ as easily, she would have liked to try. She moved on. She washed away the residual blood that tracked down her legs and cleaned her feet thoroughly, knowing she needed to be completely cleaned. Her mother’s heart swelled for the pain Catherine must have went through. Her mother’s heart ached for Vincent; she knew he had to do things that he never had to do. Her nurse’s heart swelled with pride though. He had done a good job with his resources and time.

Father removed the sweater and cut her gown. He was appalled at the bruising on her arms and the needle marks along the inside of her elbows and down to the top of her hands. The treatments she must have endured; he mentally shook his head at the pain she must have been in.

As she realized they would have to remove the dirty sheets under her, Father spoke up.

“I will hold her, Mary, if you would remove and replace the sheets.” They worked quickly. Father held her upper body as Mary moved the old sheet down toward her waist and added a clean one. He laid Catherine’s body down and together they gently removed the old sheet simultaneously replacing it with the new one.

Catherine was as clean as they could manage. They prepped themselves for surgery and began to work.

Mary passed Father the suture needle and thread, their eyes meeting and speaking words that which they were afraid to even speak. The pregnancy had been slightly early. They had to remove the placenta knowing as they did that that would be cause for infection. Signs of morphine overdose were also evident. They seemed to be mild, though her respiration was slow, her skin slightly cool and clammy.

Intravenous antibiotics along with fluid that contained vital nutrients that would also help flush the morphine out in her urine.

They hadn’t given anything to her for pain. They waited to see if the discomfort would wake her up. However, Father did not count on it waking Vincent.

~*~

He hurt everywhere. At first he attributed it to the fact that he hadn’t been sleeping well and was sleeping somewhere other than his bed. Then his stomach pained him more than ever, his legs and arms ached more than they ever had after a hard day’s work, and his jaw…oh it hurt as if he had been clenching his teeth forever and his throat was unbelievably dry…He jolted up and quickly went to the curtain separating the beds from the surgery.

He swallowed first to try to wet his throat, and then cleared his throat quietly. He hadn’t meant to, but it came out just the same; he growled. ”She is in severe pain. What can you do for her?”

He whispered achingly, eyes fixed on her pain ridden body. “What will you do for her?”

His eyes flicked over Father, Mary back to Catherine, unnerved by the pain.

“Vincent, my dear boy…” Vincent’s eyes bore into Father and although it unsettled him, Father stared back, stood straighter, voice stronger and became not only father but physician as well. He cleared his throat and came back strong. “Vincent. We must wait for her to wake up. I didn’t realize, forgive me, I forgot to ask if your bond had returned. “Vincent?”

Vincent’s face was one of shock. He stepped forward to Catherine’s side and knelt beside her. He took one of her hands and held it near his face. The Bond has returned? What did it mean? That he felt her pain so strongly…

“I was not aware of it myself.” He stood and though he stayed near her side, he spoke to Father and Mary. “She is suffering a great deal. What must I do? Tell me? I want to help, I have to help. I certainly cannot sit by and do nothing!”

He was entirely aware that he had raised his voice. He was frightened, tired and in pain as well.

And he began to grow impatient as he waited and watched them debating on how to answer.

He sighed deeply and let it out, the sound a defeated one. “Please?”

“Vincent, Catherine has a mild overdose to the morphine. We wait to see if she wakes up on her own, which may be difficult with the morphine in her body. We will try to flush it out and pray she will not succumb to a coma.”

“How long before we know?”

“A week, possibly two, Vincent, this will be…” Father realized this would be no more trying on them than this whole ordeal had already been. Father did only what he could do. “Vincent, I’d like to keep her here, and then perhaps soon, when she wakes, we could move her. Tonight however, we all need to sleep.” He held up his hand to motion Vincent not speak yet. “We will have someone bring food to you. Goodnight my boy.” Father hugged him close, kissed his forehead and murmured “Thank God you found her when you did.”

Mary watched this all in silence, her motherly heart breaking for the man she had come to love as her son. The struggle she knew he would face, that he had been facing, would not be easy. She adjusted Catherine’s blankets then hugged Vincent next. “She’s safe here Vincent, take comfort that you can be near her, bringing her comfort. She knew if you found her, she would be safe again.” She kissed his cheek but did not bid him good night.

~*~

‘Too close to death have you and I come, Beloved. Thy death-thou shall not near death’s door no longer, Catherine.’ His last sleeping thought made him wake abruptly.

He had only slept thirty minutes. Catherine was moving slightly- he picked up her hand to merely rest it in his own- waiting to see if she would wake on her own or if he would have to awaken her.

His heart sped up quickly as if he had run a great distance, his throat ached again and he knew he was feeling Catherine.

~*~

She dreamed of the color red. Not just any color of red though-she recognized it as the color of someone’s hair perhaps a woman? Why? Who?

The sky was the color of Vincent’s eyes, the tall grass the color of his hair, the smell of candle smoke and something unique were heavily laden in the air, she called Vincent’s name.

“Vincent?” Catherine murmured sleepily.

“I’m here. Can you open your eyes, Catherine?” Vincent leaned forward from his perch near the bed so that when she did open her eyes, she would see his face. He brought her hand against his face, holding her palm against his cheek.

“I…I’m not sure…Vincent? Where are you? Where am I?”

He smiled, knowing she would feel it and gently spoke to her, slowly trying to pull her from her sleep.

“You’re dreaming, Catherine. I’m here by your side. We are Below- in the tunnels- inside the hospital chamber. You’re safe. You’re safe now. Do you… try to tell me what you remember?”

~*~

She remembered everything. She wanted to push it away-tried to force her mind from all of it. What she started with was this-”You found me.” Her voice startled her. It was so quiet and slightly raspy. Vincent’s eyes seemed so blue. She remembered the last time she saw them; they were beginning to be clear of illness and they were gaining their luster once again. She noticed his eyes were tired. “You’ve been searching for me.”

Something-indistinctive to her- flashed in his eyes and then he sat up straighter, not once letting go of her hand. “I never stopped. I could never stop searching for you.” He shook his head fiercely. “I never stopped searching until I found you. Never doubt that Catherine. I will always search for you.”

He paused, uncertain for a brief second and then he told her softly, but strongly so she would not doubt his words. “I love you. I would have found you because I love you.” He watched her turn her face away and her eyes squeeze shut. He felt her tug her hand and he held on for one last second then let her go.

“Please leave. Vincent, please go, please send Mary in.”

“Cather…”

“PLEASE.”

He sighed heavily and nodded. “I will send Mary.”

~*~

She felt…unworthy… of his love. She was…unworthy of his love. She had lost his child. HIS CHILD! It was all her fault. She didn’t know, couldn’t imagine how he must feel. Betrayed? How could he look at her for what she had done? She felt so ugly. Their baby…she turned to her side, holding her still slightly swollen belly and started sobbing. Hot tears full of shame, anger, sadness and…pain.

~*~

Vincent did not leave. He stood outside the curtained room, weakened by her tears. It was like standing outside a burning room. The intensity of the heat from her shame was that hot. He could almost see the silver blue of the hottest part of a flame, he didn’t understand this shame. Where did it come from? He heard her cries louder than the pipes coming alive in the dawn of the day.

Too many times of running away, of backing down or being asked to leave-too many from either of them.. He would not do it. He would stay and be her strength, forever. Even now, especially now; there was no reason for her to feel this way and he hoped to make her see that, in time.

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