Work Text:
YEARS LATER
Diana hardly ever came Above anymore. She had lost her police edge, and so she didn't enjoy walking around in a city that now seemed somehow treacherous. But she still did feel the vibe of the city, and on days like today it called to her, until she gave in and decided to take a walk in the New York sunshine.
Diana was six months pregnant with her third baby. She didn't know how it had happened. Her oldest child was almost twelve, and young Cathy was seven. She herself was one of what doctors euphemistically called "older mothers", and if it had been another person's baby, she'd have gone for an amniocentesis to make sure that, at her age, everything was all right. But because it wasn't an ordinary baby, because it was Vincent's baby, she didn't dare go near a doctor except Peter Alcott, and he was getting on in years.
The hair which had been flame-red was now streaked with grey, giving her a strange, exotic look. She had no obvious wrinkles as yet, and was as beautiful as she had been the day Vincent first saw her, fifteen years ago. He had told her as much, but Diana had told him he was incurably romantic, and that she FELT older. Vincent, ever-gallant, had replied shyly, "But you don't look it."
A shiver went through Diana as she wondered if THAT and been the occasion on which they'd messed up, and gotten landed with Baby Number Three. She smiled to herself now, thinking of Babies One and Two. Joseph was eleven years old, and was a perfect blend of her and Vincent. He had strawberry-blonde hair, large navy blue eyes, Diana's nose and mouth, and Vincent's build. Cathy (Diana had chosen the name) looked far more like Vincent - high cheekbones, blonde hair, china blue eyes, though she was slight in build like her mother.
And of course, Jacob. He was fifteen now, and Diana was never sure if he looked like Vincent, or like his mother. Sometimes he would look sideways at her, and Diana would see Catherine Chandler's eyes. Sometimes she would see Vincent's eyes. Jacob's eyes were aquamarine and very expressive. Though he, too, had Vincent's high cheekbones and exotic bearings, he was built more like Catherine than Vincent.
Both Diana and Vincent cherished Jacob with a passion that sometimes made him uncomfortable, but Jacob never remarked on it. Years before, he had overheard them talking about him, and so he knew why. Vincent had told Diana that he would never be able to look at his son without being reminded of Jacob's mother, the love they had shared and the pain they had gone through to get him. Diana understood, for she, too, could see Catherine in the boy.
Now Diana stood outside the window of a diner near Central Park West, and was sure she could see Catherine inside! She peered in again, wondering if her imagination had overextended itself. The woman inside had Catherine's face, and though short, her hair was Catherine's hair. In response to Diana's sudden emotion, the baby began to kick furiously, and this, more than anything, propelled her (Vincent already knew it was a girl) mother into the diner, to sit at the booth with the Catherine lookalike.
"Sorry," smiled Diana as she squeezed into the booth on the opposite side, "this booth was the closest, and I desperately needed to sit down."
"It's all right," smiled the woman back. She had green eyes. Diana's gaze went from the eyes to the woman's left cheek, where a tiny white scar still showed. The baby began to kick even more vigorously, and Diana was hard put to calm her down. She must have looked pretty shocked, too, because Catherine (it WAS Catherine) asked, "Are you okay? Do you want me to get a doctor?"
Diana shook her head as the thoughts flashed through her mind. Catherine wasn't dead! The body they'd autopsied, the coffin, the gravestone, it had all been a lie! And now she, Diana Bennett, was sitting here with the woman Vincent loved (she didn't kid herself that Vincent had ever stopped loving Catherine), and actually considering saying something to her! What she finally did say was, "The baby's very active, that's all." She tried to smile, but she could feel tears forming. What was she going to do?
Think, Bennett! Think like the cop you used to be. If you tell Vincent, he might turn back to her. But he's tied to you now, and we have three children. She night think her child is dead. It's up to you to tell her the truth, the truth you've always believed in. As these thoughts ran through Diana's mind she was looking at Catherine - Catherine who was older, but who also had not changed in fifteen years. Diana still had the case photographs of Catherine lying dead - supposedly dead - on her bed, of all the Helpers, of Catherine with her face cut, on the front page of a newspaper. And Diana remembered then well. This was Catherine Chandler.
The woman was about to get up and leave, but the mother of three of Vincent's children stopped her. "Wait!" The woman sat down again, looking concerned. Diana went on. "Are you Catherine Chandler?"
At this the woman grew terrified. "Where did you hear that name?"
"I know a friend of yours," persisted Diana. "His name is Vincent."
Catherine looked so scared Diana felt she night bolt at any second. "No, it can't be true!" she whispered. "Am I going crazy again? I have to be if I’m thinking about Vincent." As if to herself, Catherine softly said, "Vincent's not real, he never was."
Diana leaned forward, took Catherine's hands. "Catherine. What happened to you?" She knew that she wasn't using the voice she'd used years ago to interrogate people, she hoped that the care in her voice showed, that she'd be able to convince Catherine of her concern.
As if speaking a monologue, Catherine suddenly began talking. It sounded as if she'd said this many, many times before, as if she knew it by heart. There was no expression in her voice, only tired acceptance.
"They revived me after I'd had the baby, put me in witness protection. They asked me about him, about Vincent. I told them, I couldn't help it, they told me he wasn't real, the tunnels didn't exist, they took me there and showed me, there's nothing there, my baby died, they kept me under wraps and then just let me go, I took a new name, another job, and tried to live." Her eyes focused on Diana. "I thought I'd put it all behind me! But I’m getting sick again, I must be sick..." her voice trailed off.
Diana had put it all together in less time than it had taken Catherine to voice it all. Gabriel had gotten the doctors to tell Catherine these lies while he used the information she gave him to try and hunt Vincent down. They had obviously drugged her and showed her unused underground tunnels of some sort in order to support their idea that Vincent existed only in Catherine's mind. And in her weakened state, Catherine had not thought to question them.
"Cathy," asked Diana, slowly, "didn't you try the basement entrance at your apartment building?"
"What? Oh, yes, but they were right, it was all bricked up, they were right... Elliot was the baby's father, it had to be Elliot, I don't remember very well..." Catherine's strong look had vanished, and she now looked vulnerable and very frazzled.
The ex-detective in Diana knew what Gabriel had done. The job he'd done on Catherine had succeeded, so well that when she had shot him, his employees had simply let Catherine go, knowing she couldn't hurt them. And to protect the tunnel world, Vincent's tunnel family had bricked up the entrance below Catherine's building, reinforcing what Gabriel's people had said. Diana realised, too, that Catherine must have told them that Elliot had the ledger. Poor Elliot.
Gabriel had just about destroyed Catherine's life. Even in death he had kept a hold over the woman he'd seen only as a baby factory. Diana had to restore Catnerine's life - she couldn't let her go on believing that Vincent - the most magnificent of men - was a product of her imagination. Diana also knew that without Catherine, her life with Vincent would never have been. She owed her. So she grasped Catherine's hands tightly and said, "Cathy, think. Do you know me? Have you ever seen me before?"
Catherine looked hard at her. "No."
"Then, how could you imagine me?"
"I’m sick again, that must be it—"
"But why would someone you've never seen or imagined talk to you about things that don't exist?" Without waiting for an answer, Diana rushed on. "The tunnels are real, Cathy. Vincent is real. The love you had was real. And your child is real, too."
At this Catherine's eyes opened wider. "No, no, the baby died, they told me, the baby died!"
Gently, Diana said, "No, Cathy, the baby was Vincent's. And he's not dead."
Catherine's eyes seemed to clear slightly. "What are you saying? I was never crazy? That Gabriel's people did this to me? Why?"
Diana explained the plot which Gabriel had used in order to vanquish Vincent, whom he perceived as equally strong, but opposite: his enemy. She explained who she was. But she said nothing about what she and Vincent now were to each other. That could wait. She ended off with, "Would you like to see your son? His name is Jacob."
It wasn't a name Catherine would have chosen, or even imagined. Only Vincent would have named the child after Father. And after fifteen years of half-life, Catherine felt whole again. She had never been crazy. It was Gabriel who was crazy. But Gabriel was dead... she'd been free for so long, if only she'd known. They had done such a good job that not even Catherine had been able to consider that Vincent was a real person. But he was! This woman was the proof. Catherine began to be scared to close her eyes. If she did, this red-headed woman would vanish, and she would find that she was crazy after all. "Who are you?" Catherine finally managed to ask.
"I’m Diana Bennett. I investigated your, er, death. Everyone thinks you're dead."
"I know." Catherine smiled wanly. "Can we go now? I'm scared that if we don't I'll wake up tomorrow to find it's all been a dream."
Knowing that Vincent was working on some lower chambers today, Diana agreed. Perhaps if Catherine saw Father...
It seemed like a long way down. Catherine had exclaimed about everything that looked familiar, stopping to look, to listen to the pipes, to touch the rock walls, to make sure. At length they arrived in the outer tunnels. As Diana led Catherine towards Father's chamber, many tunnel people recognised her. "Catherine! It's Catherine!" The whisper went around the tunnels like wildfire, and everyone began following the two women towards Father's chamber.
Father thought he was getting senile. That looked like Catherine. But it couldn't be... "Hello, Father, I’m back." Father stared, first at Catherine, then at Diana. She nodded to him and then was forced to sit down as the baby began to kick furiously.
Father left off staring at Catherine for a minute to tend to Diana. "Diana, are you all right?"
Diana recognised the way the baby was kicking. She nodded. "Vincent's coming." Vincent must have heard the news and wanted to see who was saying that Catherine was back. There was a sudden commotion as he appeared at the door. Everyone turned to look, and the path they formed led right to Catherine where she stood in her long overcoat, hair closely cropped and slightly curly, looking at him as if she couldn't believe he was real.
She didn't think, or even know what was happening, but the next thing she was in his arms, saying, "Vincent, Vincent," and he was holding her tightly and saying nothing, staring at Diana, who lifted herself carefully from the chair and walked towards them.
Catherine lifted her face to look at him, but Vincent didn't once take his eyes off of Diana. Diana smiled sadly and said, "It was Gabriel's doing." Then only did Vincent look at Catherine. "Catherine?" he said, tentatively, "is that really you?"
Catherine stepped back and nodded, looking sad and happy at the same time. "Yes," she said, sounding elated and tired. "You rescued our son, didn't you? Where is he?"
In the meantime, Jacob had cone and was standing next to Diana, who had told him what was going on. But Vincent said, "It was Diana; she helped me."
As Catherine turned to look at Diana, two more children rushed up on either side of Jacob, holding one hand each. Looking at the oldest one, Catherine could see her own eyes. But when she looked at the other two, she saw shades of Vincent in them. And Diana. And everything was suddenly crystal clear. She swallowed. "Jacob?"
"Mother?" He FELT, inside, that it was her. Jacob called Diana 'Mom'. "Are you really my mother?"
"Yes," answered Catherine, and Jacob rushed into her arms as she extricated herself from Vincent's embrace.
It all got quite confusing after that. Helpers and tunnel members who had not met Catherine suddenly crowded around, wanting to meet her. Diana explained to everyone what had happened, and they all hugged Catherine and generally made a big fuss. Fifteen years had not dampened anyone's love for Catherine, and there was a lot of excitement when people actually got to touch her and see that she was real.
Catherine was very tired. It had been a very long day, and she had told everyone what had happened, and been hugged until she thought she'd faint, so now all she wanted to do was lie down and rest. Diana recognised this, but she also knew that she and Vincent had a lot to explain to Catherine before they all retired. "Catherine, before we put you to bed, come and have some coffee."
Tactfully, Father said goodnight, and Vincent and Diana guided Catherine into their chamber and sat her at the table. Catherine smiled suddenly, the first humorous smile in ages, and asked, "Since when did you start having coffee in the tunnels?"
Vincent was already busy with the mugs and water. "Diana..." he began, then stopped. What could he say? He had truly believed that Catherine was dead, and he had grown to love Diana as his life's mate, which she was. They had three children, and Jacob. They were happy. Suddenly, now that the elation had died down to a calm joy, Vincent was gripped by panic. So many nights he had lain awake wishing for Catherine's return, wanting to feel her lying next to him, knowing that she'd never leave him. Now she was here, and everything was different.
Vincent knew that his life had been extremely good, for someone in his position. Two of the most wonderful people in the world had loved him and given him children. Now both were here, and he was frightened. But before he could say anything else, Diana interrupted. "I never did like tea," she smiled, "so I set up all the coffee paraphernalia. And I think I've even taught Vincent to like coffee now!" She winked at Vincent, who smiled back.
Catherine had realised in Father's chamber that Diana and Vincent were the parents of the other two children, who had melted away at bedtime. And it was painfully obvious that Vincent was the father of the baby Diana now carried. It hurt Catherine, and yet she was happy, too, to know that Vincent had gone on living, the way she had always wanted him to if she wasn't there. Get with it, Chandler, she thought, forgetting her other name as if it had never been, you wouldn't have wanted him living like a monk.
So she forced a light tone, which wasn't REALLY difficult, as she was so happy to see her man and her child were alive. And she was grateful, too, to Diana, for making Vincent's life happy. "So," she began, "how many children does this make?"
"Three," answered Vincent as he handed her the coffee. "Four, including Jacob." In that second Vincent promised himself that he would NEVER think of what it would be like to freely make love to Catherine, NEVER wonder what night have happened if Gabriel hadn't come into their lives, NEVER, ever wonder what night have been.
Catherine, looking into the drowning blue of his eyes, knew she couldn't afford to think of those things either. They would go on from here, remembering but not dwelling on, the past, and never think of what might have been.
Diana, sitting sipping water (Peter had made her promise she wouldn't drink coffee), felt the atmosphere change. The light tone was gone. Vincent was looking into Catherine's eyes very seriously, as she was looking into his. Then it was over and Vincent said, "Jacob loves you very much. I don't think he believes yet that you are here."
The love would always be there, they knew. Thinking Catherine dead for fifteen years had been hard, but Vincent had never stopped loving her, and he knew their son loved her too. Diana, too, loved Catherine. She'd really had no choice. Catherine was whispering, "I don't yet believe that I’m here. Vincent, they made me think I was crazy, that you didn't exist."
"And the way we closed up the tunnels for a long time after Gabriel didn't help," concluded Vincent. "But the nightmare is over now."
Tears glistened in Catherine's eyes as she softly asked, "And the dream?"
It was Diana who answered. "The dream will never be over."
Later, she lay on their bed, thinking. Vincent had escorted Catherine to the guest chamber, where no doubt they would say the things they had waited fifteen years to say. Diana knew what they were, and she hoped Catherine would cherish then. Had she been right to bring Catherine down here? Yes. There had been no other possible choice to make. Diana knew she should feel jealous, or threatened, but she didn't. All she felt was a sense of rightness and peace, and great love. "Though lovers be lost love shall not..." she murmured to herself, as Vincent came through the door. He finished it off, "And death shall have no dominion."
***
Vincent had indeed told Catherine all he had ever wanted to tell her. And she sat there on the bed in the guest chamber, Vincent remembered another occasion when she had sat there, grieving. But this time it was not in grief, but in triumph and celebration. Vincent finished off by saying, "That was the greatest truth I've ever known, and I kept it from you. Catherine, I’m sorry."
"Oh, Vincent," breathed Catherine, "I know. I always knew."
At Vincent's look of adoration, she went on, "All those months when he held me prisoner, before he got his friends to arrange my death and disappearance, I wanted to tell you one thing - that when I went into that tunnel and brought you back, I was doing it because I loved you... and it was so beautiful."
"I don't remember," he said.
"Yes. I know," answered Catherine with a soft, soft, smile. "But I wanted you to know. I will cherish the memory for both of us."
As Vincent lay in bed next to Diana (the baby had calmed down now, letting Diana - and Vincent, for that matter - sleep peacefully), he thought that, truly, love would never be lost, and death would have no dominion. When I die someday, he thought, I'd like the tunnel community to remember me with words like those. "Vincent slept, remembering love.
The tunnel community, once they were over the shock of seeing Catherine alive, welcomed her back as if she'd only been on a brief holiday. When Catherine announced that she wasn't ever going back Above, everyone sighed with relief and treated her like one of them, giving her work to do, sending her on errands, and generally letting her know that, in their hearts, she'd always been around.
Catherine knew this, and cherished her many friends for it. She revelled in getting to know her son. He truly was beautiful, and in so many ways he resembled Vincent. Yet, sometimes the way he would do or say something reminded Catherine of Diana. She was glad that someone else had been there for her child, all those years when she'd been away.
And Jacob never tired of hearing about Catherine's life Above, how she had net his father, and everything else that had happened. Vincent had long ago given Jacob the crystal necklace which he had given to Catherine on their first anniversary. Jacob, in turn, returned it to his mother, with love. Catherine wore it proudly, as a symbol of all the love they had shared and still did share.
One day, when it was nearly time for the baby's birth, Diana had finished her task for the day and returned to her chamber to freshen up. She still did some work every day in order to feel useful; she liked to work. Father had allowed her to do many of the administrative tasks which had once bogged him down, and Diana found that keeping a record of activities and assigning duties was a full-time job, and, surprisingly, one which she enjoyed. Because of her uncanny intuition, she would often cone up with solutions to problems which no one else had thought of, and always pick the right person to implement it. The tunnel people sometines jokingly referred to her as a kind of "Father-in-training".
Pausing outside the entrance to the chamber, Diana heard voices. Listening closer, she realised that Catherine was reading to Cathy, softly, the story of the Velveteen Rabbit. Neither Diana nor Vincent had ever read this story to the children, perhaps because Catherine had told Vincent about its connections. But the fact that it was Catherine herself reading it now signalled to Diana that she was finally whole again, well again, CATHERINE again, not the pale shade which had first arrived that day with her.
"I've never heard that one," remarked Diana as she walked in. Catherine was sitting on their bed, Cathy was nestled in the crook of her arm, and they looked for all purposes like a perfect family portrait. Catherine began to apologise and tried to get up, but Diana motioned her to lie back down and then climbed on the bed herself, lying on her side.
Finally the story was over. Both Cathy and Diana were fast asleep when Vincent came in, having put in a long day supervising the restocking of the kitchen. Because of her odd position, Catherine was stuck in the middle and couldn't move. When Vincent saw this, his eyes - only his eyes - smiled. Then he looked mistily at the scene, wondering how many other men could have two women who loved them and were happy together, sharing love and no envy or spite.
Vincent had long ago accepted that he could not go back, that he had to go forward, but he was happy that the women in his life had made it so easy for him. A choice, Vincent knew, would be impossible. He remembered the first time Diana had spent the night with him in the tunnels; she had asked, "If... if you had to choose, Vincent, would I lose?" Eminently practical, as Diana had always been - and still was. And he had said that he loved her differently to the way he loved Catherine, but no more or less. He had made a commitnent to Diana, one which was different to his commitment to Catherine, and now they all lived with it.
Seeing Vincent's look, Catherine said softly, "I don't know what happened, Vincent! One moment Cathy was requesting a story, and the next..." She trailed off. Vincent leaned over and picked up the book, smiled, said nothing, and put it on the table. Then he lifted Cathy and went out to put her in the chamber with the other children. Catherine quietly got off the bed, meaning to sneak away, when Diana woke up.
"Vincent?"
"No, it's me, Cathy, I mean, Catherine. Are you all right?"
"Actually, no," answered Diana, "I think the baby's coming." Just as she said it, Vincent skidded into the entrance, his eyes wide. Catherine took one look at Vincent's worried face and said, "Yes, I think the baby is coming."
Peter made it down in time for the birth, while Father and Mary stood by instructing Diana on what to do, not that she didn't already know. Catherine paced outside, trying not to remember Jacob's birth. Oh, he was beautiful, but his birth had been one of the most traumatic episodes in Catherine's life. When she gave him life, all she had been able to think about was somehow telling Vincent about the baby so that he could look after it if she wasn't around. She remembered how Gabriel had uttered, "Enough," before taking her baby away. At least no one would do that to Diana.
Just then, Father came out and announced to everyone standing around, "It's another girl." Catherine wept, and she could FEEL, inside, that Vincent was weeping with joy, too. Then Father called Catherine, "She wants to see you."
Catherine ventured into Vincent's chamber, to see Vincent sitting on the bed next to Diana, who held a tiny white bundle. She smiled up at Catherine and softly said, "You may have the honour of naming her."
Without thinking, Catherine said, "Margaret."
Then the children were allowed in. Jacob came first, peering too-cautiously at the baby. "Name?" he asked.
Diana smiled, and Catherine answered, "Margaret."
The other two weren't as excited about the baby, though Cathy seemed more interested than she let on. Diana gave Margaret to Catherine, who held her so that her brothers and sisters could see.
Vincent held Diana's hand as they watched Catherine carefully bending down so that the others could get a better view. Diana, remembering Vincent's favourite sonnet, softly said, "For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings..."
Catherine stood up again, holding the baby, knowing that all this was meant to be. Through her tragedy one more person had found enduring love, and through all their children, love would live on. It hadn't all been for nothing. They were meant to have this, and be happy. As she placed Margaret into Vincent's arms she looked down at Diana and, meaning every word, whispered, "That then I scorn to change my state with Kings."
THE END