Author's Note: Does the first fanfic dance Anyway, the idea for this fanfic came about after I read a Bizenghast character summary that called Vincent an "enabler" for Dinah, implying that he's allowing her to continue destructive behavior (like a drug addiction or something). I wanted to address why he would cover for her, so here you go. Please enjoy!
You had another of your "fits" the other day. I'd only just walked in when you started screaming and tearing at the canopy above your head, wide, frightened eyes set on some terror that I couldn't see. I was by your side before the thought crossed my mind.
"Dinah, what's wrong?" I asked through the trembling of my voice. "Are you alright?" I tried to pull you into my embrace, but you jerked away.
"Get away!" you shrieked at the intruder, unseen by my eyes. "Leave me! Get out! Get out!"
I changed my approach, moving to the other side of the bed. Climbing up behind you, I placed my hands firmly on your shoulders. I expected an elbow to the ribs and braced myself for it, but instead you laid your head in my lap, your hands held to the side of your face as you screamed endlessly at whatever horror danced before your terrified eyes. All I could do was hold you and call out to you over your screams. "Dinah, it's alright! I'm here, now! I won't let anything hurt you, I promise!"
After several more moments, you fell silent – whether because the horrific apparition had vanished or because you had gone hoarse, I wasn't sure. You buried your face in my lap, sobbing uncontrollably, and I stroked you dark curls tenderly. I always loved your curls – angel hair the color of coffee. "It's alright, Dinah," I whispered in your ear as I kissed the top of your head. "You'll always be safe with me."
You raised your head, gazing at me with tear-stained orbs of indigo – the deepest, purest sea must be that shade of blue. "Oh, Vincent!" you sobbed as you threw your arms around me and buried your face in my shoulder. "Make them leave me alone. Make them go away forever!"
You can't possibly know what I'd give to fulfill that wish for you. But all I could do was rock my wounded angel and hope that someday I'd find a way.
And when you called me the next day to deal with the doctor and your aunt, of course I denied that anything had happened. I would do anything to keep you out of the asylum. In their eyes, they call me a liar – a delinquent they only allow near you to stop you from hurting yourself. But they call you "mad" every day, and such labels are a part of our lives.
Sometimes ask myself if I'm being selfish, if, though I know your demons are real, you might be better protected if you were hospitalized. But I don't believe the spirits would leave you alone. They'd probably be even worse in a sanitarium. And how would you deal with the mausoleum then? You don't know it, Dinah, but I worry over these things every day, and I've thought about it a lot. Every man makes his mistakes; I'll certainly make mine.
So, then, I've decided. I may be wrong to lie to the doctor, but I'm erring because I'm trying to defend my wounded angel. If I must lose to my human fallibility, I'd rather err in loving you too much, than in failing to love you enough.