~*~Chapter Eleven : The Beginning of the Dream~*~

Catherine had gone to Los Angeles to interview a woman about a case. The entire time she was away, Vincent was concerned about her. He was worried, because with Catherine so far away, he knew he'd be unable to protect her and keep her safe. Then the day came that a small gift arrived to him Below. "From Catherine," Mouse said as he handed him the little box wrapped in brown paper. Tiny grains of sand were coming out of the crevices at the bottom of the box.

"Mouse didn't do it," he said as he handed the cardboard package to Vincent. "Came that way."

Very carefully, Vincent opened the box to find a several handfuls of sand from the beach along with a handwritten letter from Catherine.

Dearest Vincent,

As I walk along the beach you are here with me in spirit and with every step I take, I can feel you beside me. I am never alone, because I can feel you and I know you are thinking of me, too.

I love you so much. Please know that it won't be long until we are reunited. Until then, I am thinking of you.

All my love,

Catherine

*She misses me, too,* he thought to himself as he read the letter. With all of his heart, he longed to be with her. He missed her so much.

"Catherine," he said as he sifted through the sand, finding a gorgeous pink and white seashell tucked safely inside the box. It was a precious gift, one of the best he had ever been given. He held it in his hand as he stared at in in wonder.

Catherine was thinking of him and she missed him, too.

~*~o~*~

A couple of days passed and Vincent had gained a sense of peace after having received Catherine's letter. She longed for him beside her on a distant shore as she walked along the beach, just as he longed for her to come back to him in New York. They were worlds apart, but he could feel their connection, just like she was there with him, by his side. *I miss you, my love. Come back to me safely,* he was thinking as he sat in the great chamber, reading from a worn leather book. Even as he was absorbed in the book, Catherine was on his mind.

Suddenly then, it struck him - a sense of impending danger. Something wasn't right. He couldfeel it.

CATHERINE! Her name screamed through his mind. The woman he loved was in danger! He could feel it... as if she was here, in this very room, calling out to him and needing his assistance.

He spoke to her in his mind, giving her warning, telling her to get to safety. There was nothing he could do, being so far away, but he wanted to save her. He needed to protect her. If only he could...

Moments passed and the urgent sense of danger had faded. It dissipated slowly until was little more than an unsettling memory. She was safe again. He could feel it. His love was safe.

He let out a long heavy sigh as all the tension left his body. He settled back in his chair and resumed reading his book. All was well. His Catherine was safe.

~*~Seconds Earlier~*~

In California, Catherine was being pursued by a killer. She was in the parking garage below her hotel when a man approached, carrying a gun in his hand. She may have been shot, but all the sudden, she could hear a voice calling out to her.

It was Vincent! She heard his voice as though he were right there beside her, warning her. She turned around quickly, slamming the man to the ground as she swung the door of her rental car open quickly, hitting him. The man was out cold on the ground. He was the one she'd been looking for all along, the person of interest in the case.

Thanks to Vincent, she had solved the case. Once the authorities were notified, the man was arrested, and Catherine was ready to return to New York. She was coming home!

~*~o~*~

Upon her return, Vincent showed up on her balcony. He just knew she was back. He could feel her coming back to him, drawing nearer with every mile of her trip back to New York City. "Vincent!" she cried, going into his arms.

She snuggled in tight, against the steady thumping of his heart. "I missed you so much, Catherine," he stated. "Every minute apart seemed like forever."

"It seemed like forever to me, too," she said. "But you were with me in spirit."

When they went inside and sat down next to the fireplace, Catherine said, "Vincent, when I was in California, something amazing happened. I was in danger; a man nearly shot me, but I heard your voice at the crucial moment. I was able to stop him, and because of that, I solved the case and I got to come home. Because of you, I am alive."

She smiled at him, tears aglow in her eyes. "I could feel it," he responded. "The danger you were in. I wanted to go to you. I wanted to help you, but I couldn't..."

"But you did. It was you, Vincent... It was your voice that saved me. Even from a distant shore; that's how strong our bond has become. You saved my life."

"I love you, Catherine," he said as he crushed her against him, planting several kisses in her hair.

"I love you, too. I am so glad I am back; here with you."

In their joy of being reunited, their passion burned hot. It sizzled brighter than the flames in the fireplace as it's embers blazed next to them. They sunk to the floor, caressing feverishly. All thoughts of California fled from their heads. There was just that moment and that desperate, aching need.

"I want you," Catherine said as she kissed his neck. "Don't deny me this time. Make love to me, Vincent. I NEED you."

"No, Catherine. NO," he growled. "I can't."

"Why?" she asked in a whisper.

"It isn't the right time," Vincent breathed. He caressed her hair, calming and soothing her as the passion cooled. She fell asleep against his chest, deeply disappointed, yet resting in the contentment that she had been reunited with her love.

Eventually his erratic heartbeat lessened, but even so, he was plagued by such a fierce sense of longing. He needed Catherine. He needed to become One with her. The wanting and the waiting were killing him. It was so fierce, he struggled to breathe. The desire was sucking the very breath from his soul. He felt himself standing at the edge of a cliff; he knew he was so close to succumbing. He was so close to falling off the jagged edge into a great abyss. He knew that once he did; there would be no return.

*Save me!* he wanted to cry out to the woman he loved, but she was sleeping serenely against him. She looked so soft and peaceful, just like an angel.

His precious angel had fallen fast asleep. He could not disturb her quiet slumber. He said nothing, just held her as the night passed. When the sun started to rise in the morning, he quietly carried her to bed. He lingered a moment, then he left her.

"Sleep well," he murmured as he walked away.

~*~o~*~

Not long after Catherine's return to New York, Vincent became violently ill. He was exhibiting a strange illness he had not had since the time of his adolescence. Father became increasingly worried about Vincent's health. It was as if Vincent were going into a deep, primal state and losing his awareness. He was teetering on the edge of violence. He became very sick and delirious. All who loved him tried to help him, but he pushed everyone aside, even Father. He feared he would hurt someone in his odd, agitated state. He worried he would lash out at them and cause them great harm. All attempts to get him help failed as Vincent sunk even deeper inside himself.

Catherine was out one night when he crashed into her apartment, breaking through the glass of the French doors. He collapsed in the living room as he knocked a shelf down on top of him, spilling all of it's contents haphazardly onto the floor. He lay in a tangled heap of books and splintered glass. The wooden shelf was completely obliterated. He was just barely breathing as he lay under the debris. *I need Catherine,* was his last thought as a troubled sleep took him away.

It was about an hour later when Catherine entered her apartment. She had no knowledge that Vincent was there or even that he had been ill. He had been trying to spare her. He had refused to let Father or the others get word to Catherine about his state, but in the depths of his agony, he had come to her, for he knew it was her that could ease his suffering. He knew it was her that had the balm to soothe his festering wounds.

"Vincent!" she cried when she saw the broken doors and him lying on the floor, covered in broken glass and what was left of her shelf. She ran to his side and enfolded him in her arms. Very gently, she picked away the bits of glass and splintered wood, examining him lovingly for injuries.

"What happened?" she asked when he opened his eyes. It was obvious that Vincent had been involved in some sort of accident, but Catherine couldn't fathom what had caused him to collapse.

He said nothing, just stared at her, trying to focus. No words could come to his in his greatly agitated state. He was beyond speech... all he could do was growl. He snarled at her and hissed as though he was ready to attack her.

"Vincent," she said in a voice just barely above a whisper. She caressed his face, soothing his fur as she did everything in her power to calm him. He wasn't himself and she knew something was terribly wrong. As she touched him, she felt it. He had a fever.

"Ohhh Vincent... you're burning up!" she cried. "I need to get you a doctor. I know... I will call Peter."

Peter was the only physician she knew who may be able to help. He was a good friend of Father's and a helper to the ones Below. Surely he could help now that Vincent was so ill.

Catherine gently moved Vincent's head to a pillow. She rushed to get a cold compress for his forehead and hurried toward the phone. "Peter, it's Cathy," she said as she held the phone and knelt over Vincent, pressing the cold washcloth against his overly warm skin.

"I need you to come over. It's Vincent. He's very ill," she spoke into the phone.

Peter promised he'd be over right away. "Just hold on, Vincent. Peter will be here soon," Catherine said as she fussed over him.

~*~o~*~

When Peter arrived, he helped Catherine get Vincent into bed, then he took a blood sample. "Catherine, I will have this blood taken to the lab and get a rush order on it. If Vincent has some sort of virus, maybe we can help, but as you know, having Vincent's blood sent to the lab is a great risk. They will start asking questions once they realize that the sample isn't... well, isn't quite human."

"That's a chance we'll have to take," said Catherine as she stood over her bed where Vincent lie resting. "We have to do what we can to help him."

"I will let Father know that Vincent is here with you and that you're taking care of him. Just make sure he has plenty of fluids and try to keep his fever down."

"I will," Catherine stated as she hugged him. "Thank you, Peter. You're a good friend."

~*~o~*~

After Peter left, Catherine prepared a nourishing soup. She placed the steaming bowl on a tray and took it into her bedroom. She set the tray at Vincent's bedside. "Vincent," she whispered softly. "You must try to eat."

He opened one eye, looking at her warily. He was looking at her as if she was some sort of vile beast. Once again, he started snarling.

"Vincent, it's me. It's Catherine," she spoke gently.

She reached out to caress his cheek, but he recoiled from her- as if she was coming at him with a deadly weapon. His fangs came forth as if to snap at her flesh. He looked as though he wanted to rip it and tear it apart.

"Vincent!" she cried out, trying to reach him.

"Although lovers be lost, love shall not, and death shall have no dominion," he uttered brokenly.

"Ohhh Vincent," she said as she slipped her arms around him, holding him close. Immediately all of the fight and violence had went out of him. Vincent was calm. The fever had broken.

"What can I do to help you?" she asked as she snuggled next to him. She held him close, hoping her touch would help him feel better. All she could do was softly caress his fur, and hope to make him well again.

As the moments passed, Vincent was showing signs of improvement. He was gradually getting better due to Catherine's love and all of her tender care. He was regaining his strength from her gentle touch, but he wasn't entirely well.

When morning came, she awoke to find that Vincent was returning her embrace. "I must go," he said as he looked into her eyes.

"Don't leave, Vincent. Stay with me," she begged. She only wanted to hold him; to take away his pain, but he shook his head. Once again, Vincent said he must be going.

"It's not safe," he said. He crushed her so close, pressing her ever so tight against his chest.

He stood up to leave and Catherine cried.

"Farewell," he said before he walked away.

The End

Author's Note - Stay tuned for more of this tale in the sequel, Although Lovers Be Lost 2.