This tale takes place right after "The Rest Is Silence" and is 'classic' romance. No Season 3 or angst here. Please read and review. Enjoy.

To Begin Again

Chapter 1

'Where's Catherine?"

Father, also known as Jacob Wells, turned around to look at his son, Vincent who was sitting up in his bed. It didn't surprise him that those were the first words Vincent spoke upon awakening. Father firmly believed that if it hadn't been for Catherine, Vincent wouldn't even be alive.

Frankly, it now frightened Father to no end to remember how strongly he had objected and tried to discourage the strange but wonderful connection his son and Catherine Chandler shared. The events of the past five days had effectively cured him of that forever.

When Vincent had fallen into a terrible madness and retreated to the remote chamber far below, it had been Catherine who had gone to him. When Father had finally insisted on going in, he'd found Catherine there with Vincent sleeping peacefully, his head on her lap. Somehow, by the sheer force of her will and the strength of their bond, she had drawn Vincent back from the brink of madness and probably death itself. The overwhelming and quite undeniable power of their love had humbled him deeply. Gathering his thoughts, Father answered his son.

"I sent Catherine to off to the guest chamber just down the hall, Vincent." Father informed him. "She's been by your side day and night for five days and she needs her rest. She'll be back after she's had a few hours sleep. I told her I would stay with you until then."

Fortunately, Father's answer seemed to satisfy Vincent. After a moment, his shoulders relaxed and he nodded in understanding. With a heavy sigh, he lowered himself back under the covers of his bed and was soon asleep again. Father couldn't hold back his own sigh as well. It had been a long few days.

After a short time asleep on Catherine's lap, Vincent had awakened, though obviously disoriented and weak. With the help of Cullen and several other strong members of the community, they had managed to get Vincent back to his chamber and into bed. Of course, Catherine had stayed, maintaining a vigil at Vincent's bedside, simply unwilling to leave.

For the next three days, he had drifted in and out of consciousness. Several times he had become quite agitated, thrashing wildly and mumbling incoherently, though still unconscious. Catherine had gone to Vincent then, talking softly and stroking his hair and hands. Each time, Vincent had quieted instantly, drifting back into deep slumber, soothed by Catherine's very presence.

It was then that Father had finally begun to understand the true power and strength of their bond. Unlike so many things in this world, their love was steadfast, an undeniable rock like force of nature etched in stone that could not be moved nor denied. It could also no longer be ignored; even he had seen that in the end.

On the morning of the forth day, Vincent had awakened as Father kept watch. Almost immediately, his eyes had begun to scan his surroundings, almost as if searching for something. Within seconds, his face had darkened; shifting into an intense frown and he had sat up suddenly. Then, his gaze had fallen on Catherine, asleep in his chair next to the bed. Father watched in astonishment as the tension had quickly eased from Vincent's face and body. Somehow, the very sight of Catherine had placated him and he had quickly fallen asleep again.

Over the next few hours, Vincent had awakened several more times. Each time, his eyes had quickly searched around the room, seeking Catherine's familiar face. She had never left him. With Catherine's help, Father had managed to convince Vincent to eat and drink a bit of the food William kept sending. Ever the worrier, William had helped the best way he knew how; by supplying a steady stream of nourishing food and endless pots of tea to Vincent's chamber. They had all been quite grateful.

At last, Vincent had begun to talk. At once, it became quite apparent to everyone that he had suffered some form of amnesia. Father knew he would never forget as long as he lived the stark pain on Catherine's face when Vincent admitted he couldn't remember her name. Mercifully, he had followed up that admission by referring to Catherine as the woman he loved. No one could mistake the way that simple but profound assertion had lifted Catherine's spirits.

By the next day, the worst seemed to have passed, much to everyone's relief. With Cullen and Father's help, Vincent had even managed to make it to the small bathing alcove between his chamber and Father's to get a bath, though it left him quite weak. Exhausted, he had fallen back asleep at once. After it became apparent that Vincent wasn't likely to awaken any time soon, Father had sent Catherine off to get some rest.

Though Father had maintained his own vigil, it had been Catherine who hadn't left Vincent except for the barest of necessities. She had fed him, soothed his forehead with a damp cloth and even brushed his hair as he slept. Unfortunately, it also showed. Catherine now looked terrible, having barely slept or eaten in five days. At Father's insistence, she had agreed at last to rest; but only after extracting a promise to summon her if Vincent awoke.

Out in the hall, Catherine emerged from Vincent's bathing alcove and wearily made her way to the guest chamber. Luckily, Mary had found the clothes Vincent kept for her and Catherine had gratefully put them on after cleaning up. Not bothering with the light, she found her way to the bed by sheer memory and fell across it, immediately asleep.

Lamentably, her sleep was short lived. Within a few hours, she found herself wide awake, restless, a bit anxious, and totally unable to sleep. No manner of mental exercise or deliberate relaxation could soothe her agitated mind and convince her bone-tired body to resume its slumber. Sighing in frustration, she dragged herself out of the bed and headed back to Vincent's chamber.

Father had dozed off, only to be wakened by Catherine's gentle touch on his shoulder.

"Catherine." Father said, looking up in surprise. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going to the guest chamber to rest."

"I know." Catherine replied quietly. "I was, but I just can't seem to sleep."

"But you need to!" Father protested. "I can send to the dispensary for something if it would help."

"Don't bother." Catherine countered, shaking her head. "I'd rather just stay here. Why don't you go get some rest yourself?" Catherine offered as she squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

'But..." Father started to protest; but Catherine quickly interrupted.

"Please, Father." she said, her eyes pleading for understanding. "It's no use. I can't leave him yet. Besides, I saw how you were limping earlier. You need your rest as well."

Father gazed at this remarkable young woman and reluctantly relented. If nothing else, he had learned why Catherine was one of the few people who could make Vincent change his mind. In her own way, her will was as indomitable as Vincent's; she was also as stubborn.

"All right." he conceded. "But if you need anything..."

"You'll be the first to know." Catherine finished for him. Catherine didn't miss the painfully slow way Father raised himself up from the chair. In many ways, this ordeal had been as hard on him as it had on Vincent.

As she watched him slowly make his way through the chamber, Catherine couldn't remember a time Father had ever looked more tired or worried. Hopefully, he could now get some sleep; Heaven knew she hadn't been able to.

Wearily, Catherine sank down into the chair that had been her post for the past five days. It was the very same one Vincent usually sat in. For some reason, Catherine had found its stout firmness a comfort during Vincent's crisis since it reminded her so strongly of him.

Her eyes quickly strayed to Vincent, sleeping peacefully as he had for several hours. This crisis had taken its toll on all those who loved him, her perhaps most of all. The stress of the past few days combined with the secret she was now keeping weighed heavily on her. Suddenly, she couldn't hold back her tears anymore.

It had nearly killed her to see him suffering and the fear she felt at the thought of losing him had almost been her undoing. There in the quiet dark, she finally felt able to release those terrible feelings, silently sobbing and covering her mouth to muffle the sounds. At last emotionally spent, she fell into an exhausted sleep.

Vincent awoke once more and his eyes instantly settled on Catherine sitting in his chair sound to sleep a short distance away. Almost without thought, he carefully maneuvered himself out from under the covers and perched on the edge of his bed. Though he'd been quite weak earlier, he found his strength had returned somewhat and he easily lifted Catherine from her uncomfortable looking position. She didn't even stir as he cast aside her slippers.

Eagerly, he slid himself and Catherine back onto the mattress, tugging the heavy covers over the two of them to ward off the night chill of the tunnels. Gingerly, so as not to wake her, Vincent pulled Catherine very close, wrapping her securely in his arms and nestling her head under his chin.

Under the covers, he even tucked her feet between his own, wanting to keep her completely warm. Vincent smiled as he inhaled the sweet aroma of the olive oil tunnel soap still clinging to her skin. Like him, she had obviously bathed recently. Nuzzling her hair, Vincent gave a wordless murmur of contentment as he rapidly drifted off himself.

Catherine came awake slowly, savoring the gentle sensation of someone stroking her hair as a delicious warmth surrounded her. For a few precious moments, she allowed herself to drift, just barely awake as the movement soothed her immensely. She couldn't hold back a murmur of pleasure as a name involuntarily slipped out. "Vincent." she exhaled quietly, reveling in what was obviously the last trace of an exceptionally pleasant dream. At her soft sound, the warmth around her tightened and she snuggled closer, wishing this dream could go on forever. Just then, a pair of wonderfully familiar lips came to rest ever so lightly against her forehead.

Catherine inhaled sharply in shock and the tickle of something incredibly soft against her nose made her eyes instantly fly open.

"Vincent!" she gasped as she became aware that she was now firmly snuggled against him in his bed.

Against her forehead, the gentle lips now curled into a wide smile before moving away after pausing to brush softly back and forth for a moment. Hesitantly, Catherine pulled back to look up at Vincent. Belatedly, she discovered the warmth she'd enjoyed so was actually Vincent's arms locked securely around her. Her head had been tucked quite close to him and the tickle had in fact been the soft down of his chest that poked out of the opening of his own night shirt.

Taken aback, she raised her gaze and her eyes met a warm pair of blue eyes looking back at her with loving regard. Vincent's face was highlighted by a bright smile that actually showed off the canines he usually took such care to hide. Frankly, it left Catherine speechless.

"Good morning, Catherine." Vincent murmured gently as he tenderly cradled her head. "Did you sleep well?"

'Umm, Just fine." she answered, still a bit foggy. "I thought I was in the chair."

"You were." Vincent replied. "But you looked so uncomfortable and you didn't even have a blanket. I didn't want you to catch cold."

"Oh." answered Catherine, not sure what else to say.

"Besides," Vincent added. "There was plenty of room in my bed for both of us."

Whatever reply Catherine was going to make was interrupted by the light clearing of a throat in the doorway. Looking up, Catherine froze as she saw Mary standing there with a heavily laden tray. If she found their position a bit unusual, her face betrayed no trace of it. Instead, she merely paused for a moment before offering a bright smile of her own as she breezed in.

"Good Morning, Vincent, Catherine." She greeted; her face a perfect mask of serenity as she moved to the table in the center of the room and set down the tray. "I hope you both slept well. William sent you a tray. There's enough food here to feed a small army."

Heartily embarrassed at being caught so off guard and guessing Vincent probably was as well, Catherine started to slide subtly away from him. To her surprise, she was prevented from doing so as Vincent stubbornly maintained his firm but gentle grip on her.

"Hello Mary." he greeted genially as if there was nothing amiss. "Thank you for bringing this. I for one am definitely hungry. How about you, Catherine?" He asked as if everything were perfectly normal.

"Yes." she whispered, bewildered beyond measure.

"Well, good. I'm glad to see you're feeling better, Vincent. I'm sure Father will be pleased." Mary replied. "Don't bother with the tray. Just leave it outside in the tunnel. I'll just send one of the children back for it later. Enjoy your breakfast." She whisked out as quickly as she had come in.