Nature or Nurture Ch. 34-36

Chapter 34

Adison goes back to bed as well, slightly sad to find her beloved injured once more. All Vincent wants is to lead a normal life, but time and time again he ends up on the wrong side of a knife, a claw or this time, a gun.

She is not worried for his life this time, all the former occasions have shown he is not likely to infect, and he heals very fast. He'll probably make it to his audition the day after tomorrow, and most likely even to the show tomorrow. But why does he have to suffer so much?

All is well, Vincent is sleeping quietly, no fever, no sign of pain, he snores a little bit, and Adison really has to control herself not to kiss him tenderly, she loves him so much. But that might wake him up to feel the pain again, so she just watches him for a while in the soft light of the moon.

Catherine is sleeping, too, she enjoyed the bustle of the theatre so much, that poor child was just bored on Nelly Dean's farm. She was born for city life, and excitement, exactly what she'll get here. Maybe she will want to come on a few house calls, minor cases in very wealthy homes, it'll give her something to do when her dad has to rehearse his new role in a theatre much farther away from home, he'll spend a lot of time travelling.

For Adison doesn't doubt he will get the role at St James', he is so good, he can play anything. She undresses and crawls into bed herself, snuggling against her beloved with relish. He turns in his sleep and takes her in his arms, and she quickly falls asleep as well.

Did Vincent ever think himself violent and passionate? Well, he knows better now, for he is feeling a rage he has never experienced before, overruling his very being, making clear thought virtually impossible.

A breathing exercise calms him down, and he takes a good look around him. It is dark, the dark of a moonless night in the enclosure of the city, and it is raining, not hard, but a cold and miserable drizzle.

He is not alone, there is a crew of five men with him, and he is clearly the one in charge. His men have sooty faces, the rain causing white tracks to form over their cheeks, and they look positively frightened, not of what they have done or are going to do, but of him!

So this is not real, this is one of those flashes, and he is Heathcliff in a towering rage, over...yes, over what? Vincent cannot find a reason for his all-consuming anger. Suppose Heathcliff just felt this rage all the time, ever since Cathy died?

One of the men, a small, emaciated redhead answering Neil's description of Irish Tom, is clearly a tiny bit braver than the others, for he faces him and asks as unobtrusively as possible, 'All right Heathcliff, we're here, what do you want us to do next?'

Vincent feels the rage flare up, apparently this innocuous question from one of his men is enough to push Heathcliff over the edge, but Vincent knows he is in control in these dreams and he quells any thought of harming the little fellow.

But he has no clue what they are doing here, and if he rummages in Heathcliff's mind that may give the brute a hold on Vincent's own mind. Better ask Tom.

'You've heard why we're here, how do you propose we proceed?'

The men are clearly stunned that Heathcliff asks anyone for his opinion, but Tom does not hesitate.

'You said the Master ordered the old textile mill burned down. The building is made of wood and filled with cloth and cotton fuzz, and there is no-one out there this time of night. Seems easy enough to me, we go in, spread the oil around a little, light a few fires and out again.'

Why would the enemy be burning a textile mill? Vincent will ask his friends tomorrow, but first he will ask Tom, though circumspectly.

'Is there a watch?'

One of the men shakes his head, Tom's daring question has not been punished so they dare react now.

'No Heathcliff, there isn't. It's the oldest factory in London, I don't know why the master wants it destroyed, for it is useless, there are no modern machines there, children do all the work, they say it's a living hell.'

'It must be politics, for if it burns down, the owner will be accused of burning it down himself, to cash insurance money,' one man says.

'Maybe he hired the Master to burn it down,' that is another.

'Maybe the Master wants to offer for the ground, it's worth more than the property with the city growing.'

His men are certainly not stupid, this is all reasonable.

'And you're sure no-one's there?' he asks.

They all agree.

Vincent of course doesn't feel much like burning down anything, but he knows Heathcliff will have to obey his master. He can change the past a little, but not too much. So he'll burn the building down, deliver a few children from a living hell, and make sure no other buildings will go up, and all his men will get out safely.

'All right, here is what we'll do.'

And he explains the way they will start the fire deep inside the building, where it will damage the building and the goods most, then work outwards, giving themselves time to escape, and the fire-brigade time to save the houses on the other side of the road. The rain will help, too.

They break into the building quickly, and find it deserted. It looks like hell, and it feels like it, as if the voices of hundreds of children cry out their suffering and misery in this dank hole.

It is not clear what task the children have here, they don't have time to think of that anyhow, there are huge bales, and piles of fluff, and even some heaps of cloth. The guys with the oil douse all the bales and heaps thoroughly.

In a dark room that Vincent doesn't want to think of what it is used for, one of the men strikes fire, and they light four torches. Four men walk from the centre of the building to the exit, lighting all the piles in their way, and when the piles are starting to roar and the flames are licking the wooden beams, they make their escape quickly and quietly towards the river-bank, where they wash their hands and their faces on Vincent's order.

Vincent realizes that if he disperses the crew now, they will go straight back and watch the fire, and for some reason he doesn't want them to do that. Feeling his pockets, he finds quite a bit of change, and he says merrily, 'Let's celebrate a job well-done, who will lead us to a pub not too far, and not too close?'

One of the guys seems vaguely familiar with his face cleaned, is he one of the guys Vincent killed with his blade yesterday? Or was he in the crew that eventually murdered Heathcliff? Whichever he is, maybe even both, he leads them to a bar, where Vincent gives a few rounds of beers, after which he orders all of them, in a very pleasant mood from the drinking, to go straight home and not go back to the fire.

A strange feeling comes over him, very distracting from what he is doing, unpleasant, too. It takes him a while to realize the feeling is pain, and it's not this body suffering, but his own, almost two years in the future.

He loses contact with the past, and wakes up tossing and turning.

At first light Adison wakes up because Vincent is starting to get restless. She fetches a glass of water and some painkillers, he is probably in pain, and when he opens his eyes she can see that is true, they are wild and glazed.

Stroking his hair, and kissing his face gently, she calms him down and when he wakes, she gives him the painkiller. His temperature is still fine, no infections, but he is in a lot of pain, and is struggling to keep from making a sound.

'Don't fight the pain, love,' Adison says, 'let it out, or it will get worse and keep the painkiller from doing its work.'

'Catherine,' he gasps, 'she'll be scared.'

'I'll explain to her then, she'll understand, now let it out,' is Adison's command, and he gives in and clings to her, moaning, this hurts a lot. She continues to stroke him, holding him tightly, and in her arms his body relaxes, as it has done many times before, a little bit, just enough for the painkillers to start working, and soon his grip on Adison loosens and his eyes clear.

'My body is primed from my very birth to let you relieve its pain, beloved.' Vincent's beautiful baritone voice is back to normal.

'It just cannot keep suffering with you holding it.'

Adison's feelings rush her, she loves this man so much, nothing about him even suggests that he is not yet two years old, nothing in their relationship reminds her that she raised him from the time of his difficult birth. She trusts him with everything, he is so strong and stable. Adison is certainly not weak or dependent, but whenever Vincent is around, everything just seems to be all right.

His yellow eyes look at her with intense love, and he smiles a little at her infatuated musings, they must be visible in her features. Then he says, 'Adison, I've had one of those flashes again, there are things we need to find out.'

She looks at him with a certain shock, so far his flashbacks have always meant upheaval. But now they find out what it is like to have a child, for they cannot discuss the subject, yet.

Vincent's stressed sounds have indeed woken Catherine, and far from being frightened, she steps straight from her little bed onto the big bed, sits on his other side and strokes his hair, too. Looking up at Adison she asks with concern, 'What happened? Is daddy hurt again?'

Again.

'He is, love. When you were asleep yesterday evening, daddy had to talk to Neil and when he came back, someone shot him. It hurts a lot, but he is not in danger.

Will you stay with him while I make a cup of tea and something to eat? Does it scare you to see him like this?'

Catherine kisses her father and strokes his face with her small hand.

'No, I'm not scared, I feel sorry. He has so many hurts already. I'll be nice to him, you make breakfast. Leave the door open? I'll call if something happens.'

It seems Vincent was right that first day, Catherine is like Adison, bent on taking care of people, not the kind to make a show. Adison leaves the two together without any hesitation, the girl is up to it, and Adison can prepare breakfast but also the Chinese mixture. Back to curing Vincent of nasty, painful wounds, flashbacks during the night, nothing has changed, really.

She also plans to stoke up the boiler, getting shot supposedly makes one very stiff, and Vincent will want to play tonight if it is at all possible. A nice hot bath will loosen his muscles and clear his head, his wounds will probably have closed overnight.

When Adison has left, Vincent watches his caring daughter with love in his eyes. They have known one another for no more than a week, and yet he has such strong feelings for her, and it seems those feelings are mutual.

'Can I snuggle against you, or does that hurt?' the little girl asks.

'Just be careful,' is the reply, 'I love to cuddle with you.'

Very slowly the little girl wraps her arms around him, and lays her head on his shoulder. She is so small and so very careful that it doesn't even hurt.

'Daddy, I want to talk to you about something,' Catherine says, in a different tone than usual. This sounds almost adult, though her voice is still cute and high, the clumsy articulation of a toddler's mouth and tongue has vanished.

Vincent shows his surprise at her remark, but he asks, 'What is it, love, you can tell me anything, you know that, don't you?'

'I do, which is why I have a confession to make to you. Even though we met just a week ago, I feel a connection to you, to your friends as well, I know I'm going to be very happy here, which is why I want you to know the full truth.'

That is a mouthful for a toddler, but Vincent merely waits for the rest.

'I don't know how and why, but I suppose I'm not a normal child. For nearly a year now I have been able to talk like an adult, I know the words, I understand what everyone says, and I guess that is unusual, for Nelly and especially her family didn't understand. So I acted like a toddler, but sometimes I felt so lonely and misunderstood that I became really angry. Only I had to throw a tantrum to let it out, or I'd give myself away.

But you treat me like an adult, and you're my dad, so I guess you will understand. Can we please talk sometimes, about the things I hear and think, as one person to another? About the people we meet at the play, and the things I see in the streets?'

Vincent tries to close his arms around his little daughter, not so little as it now appears, and though it does hurt, he manages.

'We can, love, you can tell me anything, ask me anything. I don't want you to be lonely and certainly not angry at people not listening. You know you can tell the others, too, and play toddler outside the house.'

'I'd rather is was just you for now,' the little girl replies, 'I'm so glad I decided to tell you. Oh, you hurt again, I can see it in your eyes, I'm so sorry for you, where are the wounds? I can't see them for all the bandages.'

'I got shot in both arms first, my attackers probably thought that would render me helpless. I guess they wanted to beat me to death nice and slowly, for all four came at me with clubs. I shot one and got two with my blade.

The fourth got scared and shot me point blank, stunning me for some time. Mina saved me.'

'Your arm? So I've been lying on a shot-wound all this time? Why didn't you say so? That must've hurt. Did you lose the saber? Won't that bring the watch?'

Vincent thinks for a moment then answers.

'You're so light, it didn't hurt, and I like to have you close. I love you a lot, Catherine, and I'm glad you trust me enough to show me your real self. You are right about the saber, we were both rather bad, Mina and I, we forgot to take it. But it is not marked, there is no way to tie it to me.

The gun is, but I put that in my pocket after using it. Do you mind my telling you what happened? Does it scare you?'

'I was scared living at Nelly's, I understood someone wanted me, but I couldn't warn anyone, and I couldn't defend myself. There was nothing I could do but hide and hope for the best. I was so relieved you came for me, I watched you fight and knew I'd be safe with you.

Maybe we should tell Adison, I love her, daddy, I hope you will get a brother or sister together.'

Catherine is so happy to have spilled her secret, to finally have someone to talk to, that she wants to discuss everything she has heard at once, but she can also see that her father is still in some pain, and rather tired.

'I'm sorry dad, I suppose I have been silent for so long everything wanted to come out all at once. I'll just hold you and stroke you to forget the pain a little. So many scars!'

That last remark gets Vincent's attention.

'So that cute conversation our first morning was all acting?'

Assuming a guilty look, his pretty daughter admits, 'It was. I wanted to ask how you got them, and why you shuddered as I touched them, but I couldn't.

So I tried to get a few cuddles instead. Sorry.'

'Well, I'm only sorry that you didn't feel free to tell me this before, that you were plagued by fears and questions you couldn't share, but not that you are a born actress.

Come here, give me a hug.'

And Vincent holds his arms open to his very special daughter, and she lays her head on his chest, carefully avoiding the spot where he pointed out the shot-wound, and he holds her in his strong arms until Adison comes back.

She finds her beloved sleeping, and his daughter in his arms, awake but enjoying the closeness to her father intensely.

'He fell asleep again,' Catherine says, 'we talked a bit but he was very tired. Can I call you mum, Adison?'

Adison is flattered and pleased of course.

'I'd love that, Catherine. You know he always heals quickly, no need to be afraid for him.'

'Thanks for telling me, I did worry a bit. I'm glad to live with you, you are all so nice. I never thought dad would be so sweet. I'm sorry he has pain, though.'

Their talking wakes Vincent, and he releases Catherine from his arms, then lets Adison remove the bandages and take care of the wounds.

'If you can stand the sight of these wounds, you may come on my rounds with me next week, Catherine,' Adison says, and Catherine proves she can by watching her newly found mother work.

Vincent can see a new collection of questions gather in her mind.

'Why not just ask them, Catherine love, what harm would it do if Adison knows?'

The little girl nods and says, 'I suppose you're right, it feels like lying, I don't want to lie to my new mum.'

At Vincent's questioning look she states, 'I asked her whether I might call her mum, and she said she'd love that.'

And at Adison, 'Why do you use that smelly stuff to clean it, and why do you clean so thoroughly that it hurts dad, and where did you learn how to sew up people, and doesn't that hurt a lot? And those wounds don't look that bad, when I fell off the fence and scraped myself it looked worse.

And dad, where did you get that scar?'

The last she says touching the scar on his temple, and Vincent doesn't even try to suppress the shudder it causes him, he will tell her, but first they have to enlighten Adison, who seems a bit dazed by a little girl asking so many relevant questions in such rapid order and with such adult articulation.

'Catherine just told me she has been able to speak like an adult and understand adult speech since she was a year old, Adison. She was so full of unasked questions and so lonely she decided to come clear with me, and I just asked her to do the same with you. You can answer some questions much better than I can.'

Adison nods and observes, 'I cannot say I'm surprised, there was always something about you. You must be the best actress ever, though, and where did you find a real toddler to imitate?'

'Nelly often had neighbours visiting, some had little children as well. I studied them carefully, and tried their mannerisms on my own family. I was often lonely, though, and once I realized someone was after me I got scared as well.

I feel so much safer now.'

'I can imagine, though all is not safe, as you can see by the state your father is in. But we have a lot of friends, and we're not exactly helpless ourselves.'

Adison seems to take Catherine's revelation as much in stride as her father does.

'As to your questions: The smelly stuff is a mixture of Chinese herbs that prevents infection, which makes wounds go bad. That can kill a person. The cleaning is also to prevent infection, and it needs to be done well, even though that hurts.

I learned to sew up wounds in nurse's school, and I got to practise a lot on your father, for he keeps getting hurt. Suturing, that's what sewing up wounds is called, does hurt a lot, and since we had to take out the bullet first, which Victor did with a surgical knife, cleaned very well to prevent infection again, I put dad out with certain stuff. If you smell the stuff, you faint.

Cutting in flesh hurts even more, and if a person is asleep they lie still, which makes it easier to cut precisely. Victor cut in, removed the bullet, I mopped up the blood and cleaned the wound, then sutured it.

Then dad woke up again, and we gave him painkillers and put him to bed.

And you see, he is much better now, your dad heals very quickly, he always has. That is why your scrape looked worse, you didn't heal as fast. This wound looked really bad yesterday.

Dad'll tell you himself where he got the scar, that story is too personal for me to tell.'

By now, the wounds are clean, and Adison puts a clean bandage on them. Vincent sits up and holds out his hands again, inviting Catherine in his lap.

'It is a weird story, love, but it explains why people tried to kill me, so I'll tell you.

I once was a very bad man named Heathcliff, who was married to Catherine, or Cathy, your real mother. She died right after your birth, and Heathcliff loved her so much he went mad.