Telling Vincent
a Ron Pearlman's Beauty and the Beast story
by Niki
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 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. "Yes, come in. Please, sit down." He pulled out the chair next to him.
Vincent sat and looked at his friend and father. His skin was mottled with cold and large black circles appeared under his eyes. "Father, are you feeling all right?" Vincent asked tenderly. He had just come from evening mean, which Father had not attended. His absence was unusual and noticed. Several people especially the children, had asked Vincent where he was.
Jacob shuddered as the icy fingers of a chill ran up his spin. He forced a smile wider. "Yes, of course."
Vincent saw right through it. "You were missed at evening meal. What kept you?" He could tell just by looking at him that the man was ill. However, he knew from years of experience that rest would come to Father until he admitted it.
"Just," Jacob sniffed, as a tickle ran through his nose. "Just reading over the book you 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. "Father, are you sure you're all right?"
Jacob sniffed congestedly, and nodded his head. "Just dust; I'm sure." He brought his handkerchief back 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 restated, unable to keep the congestion out of his voice. When the concerned look did not leave Vincent's face he tried another tactic. "Where's Catherine?"
"She'll be here later."
Jacob 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."
"Are you sure, Father? I'll tell her to go if you need me."
Jacob shook his head. "No. I'll be all right. Go to her." 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 Jacob erupted into a violent sneezing fit.
Vincent paused just outside the doorway, but continued on and pretended not to hear him.
2
"If he's sick, Vincent, you should go to him," Catherine urged.
"No, he doesn't want me there," Vincent responded sadly.
"Or maybe he thinks you don't want to be there."
Vincent looked at her as if she had struck him. "Why would he think that?"
Catherine looked around the room, hoping something would help her answer his questions. "I don't know," she said slowly. "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."
"Vincent, no wonder he pushed you away!" Catherine exclaimed.
His eyebrows raised. "What do you mean?"
"He probably feels replaced. Like he's not as important to you anymore."
"That's ridiculous. No one could ever replace him. Not even you."
"Does he know that?" she asked tenderly.
"I thought he did."
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."
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."
Understanding that the conversation was over, she placed the tea on his table and left the room.
4
Jacob felt a cool hand on his forehead then heard, "Father's really hot." It was Mouse, and he was worried. Jacob tried to rouse himself, but felt as if his thought were moving through current jelly.
"We should tell Vincent." Pascal? What was he doing away from the main hub of the pipes? Mouse must have gotten him.
"No. Catherine is here. Vincent is busy," Mouse argued.
"We should still tell Vincent."
"But, he doesn't want to be disturbed. `Go away, Mouse,' he says. `Not right now, Mouse,' he says. `Catherine is here,' he says. No. Mouse should not tell him. Not yet."
"Catherine would want to know," Pascal said, adamantly. "We should tell Vincent."
5
Jacob awoke with a harsh cough. He felt a cool cloth be put on his forehead, and a strong tender hand be placed on his shoulder.
His eyes fluttered open and his pitched forward with a violent sneeze.
"Bless you, Father." It was Vincent.
Jacob cleared his throat. "Vincent." He couldn't keep his smile off his lips.
"Father, why didn't you tell me that you were ill?"
"Not as ill as all that. Just a bit of a cold."
"This is a bit more than just a cold."
Jacob digested that. "Is Catherine here?"
"She was."
"I apologize for the inconvenience."
Vincent leaned forward in confusion. "Why?" He couldn't imagine why the elder man would have to apologize for.
"I have taken time away from the two of you. You need not worry about me.
Vincent felt as though he was going to cry. "How could I not worry?"
"You have moved behind me, Vincent. To a place where you do not want me to 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."
"I don't understand. I haven't gone anywhere."
"No time for me anymore. Talking and chess don't capture your interest they way they used to." He 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 Jacob was asleep again. He sighed heavily, and rewet the wash cloth, and placed it back on Jacobs forehead.
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."
"But, that doesn't mean I've stopped loving him or you or anyone else."
"I know that, Vincent. But," she remembered going into the study countless nights to see Jacob 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."
"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 went back to caring for Jacob.
7
Vincent watched over Jacob as he slept. "Father, I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I need you still. So many need you still."
Jacob didn't move.
Vincent sighed sadly to himself and combed his fingers through Jacob's hair.
Jacob twitched slightly.
Resting his hand on him, he whispered, "Father?"
A weak hand covered Jacobs nose as he sneezed weakly. His eyes fluttered open. 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."
Jacob nodded.
"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 Jacob's eyes. "Chess when I'm feeling better?" he asked, as an offering of love.
"Whenever you like," Vincent accepted.