The first thing Father did was cut the sweater off of her. He regretted that it was one of Vincent’s but he did try to cut it so that it could be repaired. He didn’t pull the sweater off her immediately; as soon as Mary came back he asked her to get some of the blankets out of the warming bin. He started to un-wrap the sheet as quickly and gently as possible, a task not new to Father, therefore he was efficient at his job. He was stunned to see the work Vincent had had to do to bring her home.

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.