I was working on chapter 10 of my other story, 'Keeping him safe', but the preview for 1x15 got me so worked up I needed to get the following off my chest. So please bear with me while I imagine how Cat and JT can help Vincent get over his fears …. and review : )

Vincent's words rang in Catherine's ears: "I keep pulling back because I don't want to hurt you…. Two years ago I was with a woman and we were getting close and my adrenaline kicked in. I tried to fight it, I did, but I couldn't stop from changing…"

Cat was relieved when he told her he had not killed that woman. Although he also said it was only because she got away. From the look in his eyes, Cat could tell that Vincent was scared to death at the thought that he might hurt or kill her if they got too close. She tried to soothe him by telling him that she felt that he had always been able to control himself around her. And while it was difficult to hear the first part of his c onfession, she had not been prepared for the second part:

"Then I've been putting up a good front. You know, the truth is: I have never felt so out of control than when I do when I'm with you…"

Out of control? For months she had been thinking the exact opposite: that she was doing him good, having a soothing effect on him. And now he was telling her that she actually made it more difficult for him to stay in control? That being with her actually meant torture for him, because he was fighting his adrenaline all the time?

She knew that Vincent could hear her erratic heartbeat and that he must have noticed, too, that the last thing he said to her upset her far more than his confession that he felt he had been close to killing an innocent woman. Struggling to recompose herself after what felt like a punch in the stomach and feverishly trying to come up with something to say to him that would not be hurtful, Cat was relieved when her cell phone rang.

It was Joe, wanting her back at the precinct for yet another meeting with the new ADA.

"Vincent, I have to go," Cat said, tears in her eyes. She was about to lean into him for a kiss before changing her mind and quickly stroking his left arm instead. He gave her a confused look but she couldn't worry about that now. She needed to get out of the warehouse before she broke down completely. "And don't you dare leave this place… I'll be back when I can… to update you on the hunt," she added, while walking away. The last thing she could hear as she walked through the door was Vincent letting out a prolonged sigh.

()

Joe was going to be furious. But when Catherine got to the precinct, she decided to sit in her car for another fifteen minutes until her eyes looked less red and swollen. She had broken down in tears as soon as she had been a good three or four miles from the warehouse, out of Vincent's earshot. Only the night before she had told him, with such conviction, that they could overcome anything as long as they were together. She could only shake her own head at her naivety now.

It had never entered her mind that being with her would actually be physically and emotionally painful for Vincent. He had pulled back repeatedly over the first few months they had known each other but she had always thought that he just was so unaccustomed to being around people other than JT and that trust issues were natural. And it had seemed to her that he had started to trust her more and more, even through the whole Alex debacle. The idea that he did not trust himself had occurred to her of course, but she had also lulled herself into believing that she was actually helping him to slowly regain trust in himself, and that by accepting both his human and non-human side she was actually helping him to accept himself.

And now he told her that she actually made it more difficult for him to be in control? Why had he never told her before? Why did he not stay away from her if it was too painful? Why would he put himself through torture practically on a daily basis? Why not just pack and leave for his safe haven where he was away from her and more in control of his adrenaline, of himself?

Cat winced at the realization that Vincent may just have stuck around because, as Alex had said, he was always trying to do the right thing. When he had tried to pull away on the rooftop after saving Heather, she had told him that all she wanted was to share things with him, to figure things out with him. She had basically begged him to stay at her side, not realizing what strain that request would put on him, on his self-control.

He had said that he was in love with her, and she did not doubt his feelings, but being close to the person you love should not be as difficult as it apparently was for Vincent. It was well and good that her normal was being with him. But perhaps his normal should not be with her. All this time, she had lived with the illusion that she could bring him happiness when she actually brought him torture and self-doubt. Vincent was right: this was a nightmare he could not wake up from. Unless she helped him wake up from it.

After a meeting that seemed to go on for far too long and during which Cat only paid marginal attention to the latest version of the plans put in place to catch the vigilante, she quickly left the precinct before anyone could talk to her. It was coming up to 5pm. Without thinking twice, she dialled JT's number.

()

It was after 9pm. Vincent was nervously pacing around the warehouse. JT usually came home straight after class, and he was not picking up his phone. Vincent had also texted Catherine twice since she had left the warehouse in the early afternoon. He had wanted to tell her about his fears so many times before, and he was not sure he had explained himself really well. And then she had disappeared so quickly, and all he was left with was guessing why she had seemed to struggle more with his admission that he felt vulnerable and anxious to lose control around her than with his confession that he had nearly killed a woman when trying to have sex.

Vincent grabbed his phone and dialled Catherine's number. It rang six times before going to voicemail. He then rang JT. No answer, either. He texted Catherine: Worried sick. Please call or text. Muirfield, Joe, ADA or not: going out to find you if I don't hear from you in the next ten minutes. And then he texted JT: Where the hell are you? Worried about Catherine. Call me now!

As he was about to leave the loft ten minutes later, Vincent's phone rang. It was JT. "Stay where you are, big guy, Catherine is safe and sound. Just dropped her off at her apartment. I'll be there in about twenty-five." Before Vincent could ask what JT and Cat had been doing together all evening, or why Catherine had not replied to this texts, JT had hung up the phone. He had sounded distant and – angry?

Fighting the urge to call Catherine just to hear her voice for what seemed ages (it was only about fifteen minutes since he'd spoken to JT but it felt like an eternity), Vincent went to the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. His phone rang again. Drawing a sigh of relief when he saw the name on the display, he picked up: "Hey!" His voice was laden with emotion.

"Hi, sorry I didn't reply earlier. JT and I went to this really noisy bar… My phone was in my bag and I didn't check it until just now."

"Yeah, what were you guys doing at a bar? And why was I not invited along?" Vincent tried to joke but neither Catherine nor he were really in the mood for jokes.

"Well, I just informed him about the newest developments in the hunt for the vigilante. He'll tell you all about it when he comes in." She sounded drained.

Vincent swallowed. "I thought you said you'd come over to tell me yourself?"

"Yeah, that was the original plan. But then I thought that there really was no need for me to…" Catherine hesitated long enough for Vincent's heart to sink, "to make things more difficult for you…"

Vincent let himself drop onto the sofa. "What are you saying, Catherine?"

"I don't know what I'm saying, Vincent. I'm still trying to digest what you told me today… You know, all this time, I was thinking that being around me actually brought you some comfort and stability, that it made you happy – and now you tell me that it's the opposite, that it's been a constant struggle to stay in control… Why did you not tell me before? Why inflict this on yourself?"

Vincent could hear from Catherine's voice that she was fighting back tears. He needed to see her, to tell her that she was his happiness, that he gladly accepted the struggle with his adrenaline levels for her. "I'm coming over, Catherine, OK?" he whispered, feeling himself becoming undone by the tone of her voice.

He could feel Catherine vehemently shaking her head at the other end. "I don't think that's a good idea, Vincent. It's not safe – Evan thinks the vigilante and I are linked, that he is circling me…" she swallowed hard, "that the vigilante is circling me like prey, closing in on me. I wouldn't put it past him to actually have my apartment watched. Looks like he and Gabriel are getting on like a house on fire which doesn't help us."

"OK," was all Vincent managed to say, mentally cursing himself for his monosyllabic answer. He had never been Mr. Eloquence but this was ridiculous. There were so many things he wanted to get off his chest and all he could come up with was OK. He realized that Catherine was waiting for him to speak. He managed to say: "So what happens now?" Great, Keller, just great! Way to go!

Catherine laughed a short, bitter laugh. "You wait for JT; he fills you in. I sit up all night thinking things through and when I come up with something that looks like a solution to this nightmare I come over, OK?"

"Catherine, I'm sorry…" Vincent started to say, head in hands and close to tears, but she interrupted him, her voice suddenly soft and soothing.

"Don't be. I'm glad you told me. I'm also glad that woman is OK, that you didn't harm her. For her and for your own sake. And I'm sorry, so sorry, Vincent. I was blind to the fact that you are struggling to be in control around me. It's just that it feels so natural for me to be around you that I never stopped to consider whether it was the same for you…"

"Catherine…"

"I just want what's best for you, Vincent, you know that, right? I believe – no, I actually know—that you would never ever hurt me. I feel completely safe when I'm with you. But I can't be selfish. I don't want you to go torture yourself every day just because I want to have you around…" Her voice trailed off.

Vincent sighed. Where had this all gone so wrong?

"We'll talk about it tomorrow, Vincent, OK? Or soon, at any rate. Please promise me you won't leave the loft. JT will explain about the hunt. And try and get some sleep… " Catherine hesitated briefly before whispering "I love you."

Before Vincent could reply, she had hung up. He stared at his phone for a few seconds before dialling her number. She had already turned the phone off – his call went straight to voicemail.

He was about to leave the loft and go to her apartment, against Cat's express wish, when he heard JT arrive. He was in a taxi about a mile away and Vincent could hear the taxi driver asking JT if he really wanted to go to this particular area. JT mumbled something about an underground club that had just opened in the area, told the guy to stop around the corner and paid him.

Vincent could smell the alcohol on JT as soon as he entered the warehouse. And it was strong stuff, not just beer that he had been drinking.

"Hello, my dear friend," said JT as he stumbled through the door. He dumped his bag on the floor and staggered to the fridge to get a beer. Vincent was at his side in a second and grabbed the bottle out of his hand.

"I think you've had enough, JT," he said, looking at his best friend in dismay. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I could ask you the same question," said JT, fiddling with his glasses. "Except I already know the answer…"

Vincent knew that this was not going to be an easy conversation. He shoved a bottle of water in JT's hand and dragged him to the sofa, forcing him to sit down.

"What did you guys talk about? What did Catherine tell you? How much did you guys drink? She didn't sound drunk on the phone..."

"Oh, so she did call you after all. I told her to let you stew in your own juices for a little while. And yes, we had a few drinks. But I had more than her and then I got a bottle of scotch on the way back – just felt like the right thing to do, celebrate your stupidity, you know! Oh, and we talked about ways to keep your undeserving ass out of prison, out of a science lab, out of jail… You know, the usual…" said JT, avoiding Vincent's stare.

"My undeserving ass?"

"Well, Cat didn't really elaborate on what exactly happened between the two of you but it was pretty clear that you did or said something that really upset her today. My guess is, you pushed her away again because you're afraid again… which makes you an undeserving ass, again."

"You know what happened two years ago, JT, I can't risk that – not ever, but especially not with Catherine. I don't think I could live with myself if I as much as gave her a bruise…" Vincent pleaded.

JT laughed in his face. "So you were going to live like a eunuch with Alex if you'd actually left with her? I mean, we didn't have this conversation then, did we?"

"Well, no, I don't know. It just felt different; my feelings were never as intense as they are for Catherine. I feel like I am not in control of myself when I'm around her."

JT shook his head and then put a heavy hand on his friend's shoulder. "I am far too drunk to explain all the ways you are being stupid right now, my friend, but let me tell you one thing before I go to bed: that evening when you broke out of the cage, you were not in control of yourself. I have seen you, you know, when you transform, plenty of times before. And before that night, I was never once scared for my life. But that night, there seemed nothing left of you. Whoever was attacking me was not you. Talk about out of control! I honestly thought I was a goner. With flashbacks of my miserable life, and all. Until Catherine showed up. You wanna know how long it took her to get you back to yourself? I'm going to say this reall so that even you can understand: s. s, d u d e."

Vincent stared at JT in utter disbelief as he got up and made his way to his bedroom. Before slamming his door shut, JT turned around and said: "If there is one person who you are actually able to have sex with, Vincent, without you losing control, it is Catherine. She will always keep you safe, even in that department."