Telling Vincent (Ron Perelman's Beauty & the Beast)

[frolicking periwinkle]

I'm an oddball - this time because I love the character of Jacob (Father) more than anyone else. He's so dynamic.  That doesn't mean there won't be any of Vincent, but I'm rewriting this one, and posting it here.  

Summary: When Father comes down with a cold, those Below debate on if they should tell Vincent or not. 

Part 1

Jacob sat in his library, skimming his old medical books and looking at his old research – the information that had gotten him blacklisted from the medical community and forced him into the tunnels. 

He shivered and pulled his cloak around him tighter.  He always hated when fall turned to winter – even when he lived Above.  But, down in the tunnels, the draft turned frigid: especially as he aged. He could hardly remember a time when his joints didn’t feel stiff, or his muscles didn’t seem to hold fast to the cold winds, chilling him to the bone. He heard footsteps descend the stairs behind him, and quickly covered up his old work with the book of poems that Mouse had gotten him the previous Christmas. 

“Father?” a low hushed voice asked.

He smiled when he heard Vincent’s voice.  He wished for no one else’s company as much as Vincent’s. He turned to Vincent, the smile too big to hide.  “Yes, come in.  Please, sit down.”  He pulled out the chair next to him.  He cleared his throat, trying hard to portray the picture of wellness. That his health turned poorly at the cusp of the colder seasons was nothing new, and he appreciated that people did not dwell on it.  There were far too many people Below for people to worry about things that were as inconsequential as his annual cold.

Vincent sat and looked at his friend and father.  His skin was mottled with cold and large black circles were starting to appear under his eyes.  “Father, are you feeling all right?” Vincent asked tenderly.  He had just come from evening meal, which Father had not attended.  His absence was unusual and noticed.  Several people especially the children, had asked Vincent where he was, to which Vincent had replied that he would find out.  Of course, he had assumed that Father was coming down ill; that time of year had come.  Even still, that did not mean he wouldn’t check on the man who was so dear to his heart.

Jacob shuddered as the icy fingers of a chill ran up his spin.  He forced a smile wider.  “Yes, of course.  This is nothing new.  I simply have no wish to spread my cold to the others.”

“Just,” Jacob sniffed, as a tickle ran through his nose.  “Just reading over the book Mouse gave me,” he said, pushing the open book to Vincent.

 

“I will not go gentle into that good night,” Vincent read, looking up just in time to see him sneeze heavily into his handkerchief.  “Bless you, Father,” he offered.

But, Jacob’s eyes remained tightly shut and his breath hitched he geared up for another sneeze.  “eh-hah-Schump!”

“Bless you again.”  Vincent waited until he had finished blowing his nose.

But, the tickle still had a firm hold on the older man.  Not removing the handkerchief, he kept his handkerchief raised to his face.  “Hah-ke-schump!”  He looked over and felt a tug at his heart strings as he noticed the concerned expression on Vincent’s face.

“I’m sure id’s dothig,” he stated, although they both knew he was lying as the congestion made its presence known. When the concerned look did not leave Vincent’s face he tried another tactic.  “Where’s Catherine?”

“She’ll be here later,” Vincent responded, head tilted to the side as he observed Father.  He wished something could be done besides a kind word and a cup of tea.  But, years of experience had taught them all that Father would simply muddle through his colds, and the less attention they paid to it the better.

Father nodded.  He hadn’t been an advocate for their relationship in the beginning.  However, there could be no denying that their love was mutual and strong.  He remembered having a love like that himself once, and wished only the best for the young couple.  His ears perked up as he heard the code for her name being tapped along the pipes.  “She’s here, Vincent.  You should go to her,” he forced himself to say.  He didn’t want Vincent to leave.  Malaise was setting over him, and he was starting to feel disoriented.  In times such as these, he felt safest with Vincent at his side.  But, he reasoned, Vincent has more important things.  Once upon a time, Vincent’s life had revolved around Fathers.  Now, he had a life of his own.  It was a good thing; but in times like these, Father wished nothing more than to know that Vincent was keeping vigil over him.  He knew that no harm would come to him as long as Vincent was there.

“Are you sure, Father?  I’ll tell her to go if you need me,” Vincent offered kindly, as though he were reading Father’s thoughts.

 “No,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’ll be all right.  Go to her.  Enjoy your time together.”  He sniffled, causing his nose started to itch uncontrollably, though he forced himself to remain calm – at least until Vincent left.

With another look of concern, Vincent reluctantly got up and left.  No sooner had he walked through the door than was Father overtaken with a fit, his body desperate to dispel the irritant. “Eh-Shump!  EHeh-Huh-Shumpah!  Esttcchhah!  HUH… Eh-huah-HAH-AschUMP!”  The fit ended in a long gurgling blow, as the feeling of malaise replaced the coldness in his weary body.  He nearly called for Vincent to come back, but didn’t.  He huffed out a wet cough and groaned as he closed his eyes and hoped that he would be able to find solace in sleep.   

[frolicking periwinkle]

Part 2:
 

Catherine fretted as Vincent told her how quickly Father’s illness had settled over him. “If he’s sick, Vincent, you should go to him,” Catherine urged.  The bond between the two could not be doubted, and she fairly certain that even if he wouldn’t say it, Father wanted Vincent at his side.  The two of them were a formidable pair, and when one was weakened the other was stronger to make up for it.  But, they needed to be together. 

“No, he doesn’t want me there,” Vincent responded sadly. 

 

The statement didn’t sit properly with Catherine, and she couldn’t understand why Vincent would think such a thing. At other times, he would have pushed her away – told her to stay above – so that he could provide the care they both knew that Father needed.   Suddenly, she figured out what about the story was out of place.  “Or maybe he thinks you don’t want to be there.”

 

Vincent looked at her as if she had struck him, hurt evident in his expressive eyes. “Why would he think that?”

 

Catherine looked around the room, making sure that no one was lurking nearby.  She didn’t want rumors going around the community.  And, goodness knew, with Paracelsus in the caves, she didn’t want them leaving the community either.  “I don’t know,” she said slowly, buying her time as she tried to figure out how to explain herself to him.   “Have you been spending less time with him since I came into your life?”

 

“Of course.  Father used to be my constant companion.  Now I have you, and when you aren’t around, I have him,” he answered honestly.

“Vincent, no wonder he pushed you away!” Catherine exclaimed, her concerns proving to be well founded.  The poor man had come to rely on Vincent’s company over the years.  She knew that Father had not been in support of their relationship in the beginning.  He claimed that he was trying to protect Vincent, but Catherine finally realized that it was because he was trying to protect himself.  She didn’t begrudge him this – quite the contrary.  She understood how calming, intelligent, and comfortable time spent with Vincent was.  And, although their bonds with Vincent were different, the fact that they both loved him in their own way was the same.

His eyebrows raised.  “What do you mean?”  It was apparent that he had never considered this.

“He probably feels replaced.  Like he’s not as important to you anymore.”  She put her hand on his arm in order to comfort him while she gave him a bit of a harsh reality.

“That’s ridiculous.  No one could ever replace him.  Not even you,” Vincent retorted, turning away a bit – his back turned slightly towards her, shutting out the painful words that she spoke.

“Does he know that?” she asked tenderly.

“I thought he did,” he admitted softly.  “But… perhaps he has forgotten.”

She smiled, turning him back towards her.  Her face was serious, eyes intense as she made eye contact with him.  “Then it’s time that you remind him.”

[frolicking periwinkle]

I am trying to rewrite this as I do it.  I realize it's not one of my best.  I promise I'll make a sneezy Vincent soon. 

Part 3

“Come now, Jacob.  You know that tea makes you feel better,” Mary urged, trying to hand him a cup of hot tea. 

Jacob coughed into a fist.   “I don’t know how you found out, Mary, but I’m telling you… Asschump!”

“Bless you.  You’re not fine.  You’ve caught a cold, and if you don’t take care of it, it’s only going to get worse,” she admonished, her tone becoming more nagging as she became more frustrated with the situation. 

 

He knew that she was right, of course.  In fact, it was wisdom that he’d often imparted on others.  But, it seemed so trivial now.  Besides, what if someone needed him?

 

His head snapped forward with a forceful wet sneeze that clogged his sinus’s.  “Yes, Mary,” he responded gruffly.  “Thang you for the tea.”  He breathed through his mouth as he took the tea from her hands.  Intense brown eyes stared at this companion and he gave her a curt nod.  He wished her to leave so that he could blow his nose in peace.  She would understand.  They’d had this argument before.

 

Understanding that the conversation was over, she clucked in dismay.  “Well, you come and tell me if you need anything.  You’re no more alone than you wish you be,” she said, squeezing his shoulder as she left the room.

[frolicking periwinkle]

Part 4

 

Jacob felt a cool hand on his forehead.  His consciousness tried to wake him up… but it was lost in a haze of darkness.  Something was wrong… but he was warm and comfortable.  The hand… someone was worried.  He had to tell them he was all right… but … there was something wrong… he couldn’t…. his conscious drifted back into the dark as he heard someone start to speak…

A small gathering had come into the study when Mary had fretted about Father’s worsening condition.  They had tried to rouse him, but could not.  No one wanted to go back to Mary with that news, so they discussed their options.

“Father is really hot,” Mouse stated, worried.   

“We should tell Vincent.”  Pascal rarely came out from the pipe hub, but when Mouse had tapped for him,  he came.  Mouse trusted everyone – over trusted.  If he was coming to Pascal personally, then there was a reason.  Pascal knew better than to take that trust for granted. 

 

“No.  Catherine is here.  Vincent is busy,” Mouse stated.  He had interrupted them several times while Catherine was visiting.  While they were always gracious to him, Mouse could tell that he was bothering them.  Mouse could have Vincent’s attention whenever he wanted, and even though he liked Catherine, she and Vincent needed their time together.  While his vocabulary was that of a child, his mind was not.  He knew when he wasn’t wanted.

 

“We should still tell Vincent,” Pascal said.  Truth be known, he was getting anxious being away from the pipes.  There had been illness epidemics over the years, and if this was going to turn into another one, he needed to be at his post.  It was imperative.  Vincent could handle this better than they could.

 

“But, he doesn’t want to be disturbed when Catherine is here.  ‘Not right now, Mouse,’ he says.  ‘Catherine is here,’ he says.  No.  Mouse should not tell him.  Not yet.”  Granted those things were said out of context.  But, Catherine was here.  He needed his time with her. It was so important to him; everyone had seen how sad he was when she wasn’t around, and how she brought him to life and made him happy.  

 

“Catherine would want to know,” Pascal said, adamantly.  “We should tell Vincent.”

[frolicking periwinkle]

Part 5:

Jacob awoke with a harsh cough.  He felt as though he was drowning and his body coughed roughly to push out the moisture.  Head pounding with each jolt, he felt worse than he usually did.  His extremities felt weighed down and his face throbbed with an impending sneeze.  “Heh…eh…. Ehhhh… Hur-Choefff!” he sneezed freely. 

 

Eyes blinking he realized that he was in his room, in his bed.  How did he get here?

 

He felt a cool cloth be put on his forehead, and a strong tender hand be placed on his shoulder.  “Bless you father,” said a low soothing voice in the darkness. 

 

Vincent.

 

Forcing through the malaise His eyes fluttered open and his pitched forward with a violent sneeze. “HURCHUFF!!”  Rough congested coughs followed making him feel as though he were being beaten with a blunt object.  He didn’t recall his colds being so intense.  But, it was hard to put things in perspective at the moment.

 

“Bless you, Father.”  Vincent rubbed a gentle hand over his guardian and friend’s face, and cheek.  The man’s fever had risen to an alarming number by the time he was told that he was ill.  As skiddish as Mouse had seemed, he was happy for Pascal’s assistance, and came to Father as soon as he’d been told.  He was most alarmed, however, when he had moved the man and he didn’t awaken.  Were the man any more ill, he would have called for a stretcher.  But, he didn’t want everyone to know, and he knew Father wouldn’t want everyone to know either.  

 

The older man cleared his throat.  “Vincent,” he whispered gruffly, a small smile appearing on his dry lips. . 

 

“Father, why didn’t you tell me that you were so ill?”  Vincent asked gently. 

 

“Not as ill as all that.  Just a bit of a cold.”  Jacob leaned up on one arm as wet coughs overtook his body.  He felt Vincent press a handkerchief into his hand, and used it to cover his mouth.  “Excuse me,” he huffed out, laying himself back down.

 

“This is a bit more than just a cold,” Vincent suggested, rewetting the cloth that had fallen from Father’s forehead. He placed it on his forehead and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as the older man shivered.

 

“Is Catherine here?” Father asked as the shivering subsided.

 

“She was,” he answered honestly.  It had been quite a trick to get her to leave, but the acknowledgement of over the counter medicines that could be gotten.  He knew she wanted to help, but he wanted to know why Father hadn’t requested his assistance.  And – according to the anxious body language by Mouse and Pasqual – had likely asked for him to not be told at all.

 

“I apologize for the inconvenience,” Father responded far too politely. 

 

Vincent leaned forward in confusion.  “Why?” He couldn’t imagine why Father would have to apologize for.  In fact, Vincent felt guilty that he hadn’t stayed with him and had left when Father insisted that he did.

 

“I have taken time away from you and Catherine.  You need not worry about me. Mary will provide any care I might need.”

 

Vincent felt as though his heart was breaking.  As crazy as he had felt Catherine’s suggestion had been, it appeared that her hypothesis about how Father was thinking was closer to the truth that he had ever imagined.  “How could I not worry?”

 

“You have moved behind me, Vincent. To a place where I cannot follow.” He coughed harshly.  “Do not worry.  I have been in love myself. And, I will always be here if you ever decide to return.”

 

Vincent felt his blood run cold.  “Father… I haven’t left you.  My love is great enough for both of you.”

 

Malaise mixed with exhaustion and Father felt it harder to hold on to the topic of the conversation. “No time for me anymore.  Talking and chess don’t capture your interest they way they used to.”  His breath was getting short and his eyes started fluttering closed again. 

 

“That’s not true.  I look forward to our talks…and to chess.  The bond we have can never be broken, nor could it ever be replaced.”  He looked down, but Father was asleep again.  He sighed heavily, and rewet the wash cloth, and placed it back on Jacobs forehead.

[frolicking periwinkle]

Part 6:

“I don’t understand it,” Vincent vented as he paced in front of Mary.  “Why would he think I’ve moved beyond him?”

 

“You’re in love, Vincent,” she answered matter-of-factly.  She had been touched when Vincent, had sought her counsel when he was so distraught. 

 

“But, that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped loving him or you or anyone else.”  He felt that he had to pace or else he would explode. The very idea that Father thought that he had been replaced by Catherine broke his heart and – to some extent – angered him greatly. 

 

“I know that, Vincent.  But,” she remembered going into the study countless nights to see Father sitting alone at the chess board, moving figures around, lost in his own memories.  She remembered watching him hurriedly brushing away tears when others would walk in to keep him company.  This hurt had been inside him for a long while.  “But, he misses you.”

 

Vincent paused in his pacing.  How could Vincent be missed?  He lived Below with them and saw Catherine for precious few hours out of the day – and it wasn’t even every day.  “But, Mary, I’m right here.”

 

She nodded slowly.  “When he needs you, yes, you are always there for him.  But, where are you when he doesn’t need you?  Think about it.”  Crushed by the hurt look in Vincent’s eyes, she left the room to check on Father.

[frolicking periwinkle]

Finally the last chapter.  Not my best work - and I kinda got bored as I updated it .  I'll have more soon.

Part 7:

The next day Father’s fever continued to climb and he slipped into a deep sleep.  Catherine had come with medicine, but they could not rouse him to administer it.  One of the helpers who had left to practice medicine came below and explained that if Father’s temperature didn’t break soon, they would have to bring him above and admit him to a hospital.  Without intravenous care, he was likely to become much more ill from dehydration.

 

Vincent watched over Father as he slept.  “Father, I’m so sorry,” he whispered.  “I need you still.  So many need you still.” He was worried about bringing the older man above.  While the bill would be covered by the kindness of the helpers, he didn’t like the idea of the man being in the care of someone else.

 

Father didn’t move.

 

Vincent sighed sadly to himself and combed his fingers through Father’s hair, his nails raking the mans’ scalp gently.

 

Father twitched slightly at the touch.

 

Resting his hand on the older mans’ hair, he whispered, “Father?”

 

With a weak hand Father covered his nose as he sneezed weakly, eyes fluttering open in from the stimulation.  He focused on Vincent and a slow smile spread over his face.  “Vincent?” he asked, as if he were hallucinating.

 

“Yes, Father, I am here.”  He put another cool washcloth on his head and continued stroke his hair back. 

 

“And Catherine?”

 

“She’s Above.”

 

Father nodded.  His head was pounding.  He felt as though his body was filled with lead.  But, he knew he was safe, and that was a load off his mind.

 

“Father, I apologize for being absent as of late.  I always took it for granted that you knew that I loved you unconditionally.  I’m so sorry that my actions haven’t proven that to you,” Vincent blurted out.

 

Tears glistened in Father’s eyes.  “Chess when I’m feeling better?” he asked, as an offering of love.

 

“Whenever you like,” Vincent accepted, continuing to watch over him as he slept.