Summary: There are moments in Phantom where things could have gone very differently. This is one of them...

Setting: Susan Kay's Phantom, after the wedding dress scene, when Erik leaves and encounters Raoul.

Disclaimer: I disclaim. Please R/R this series. I have many more of these tidbits in my head.

A/N: This is a revision of a fic I have previously published on FF. For those of you who have read the earlier version, I beg your indulgence. I did not think the ending very realistic and decided to change it.

Moments of Transition: Submersion

I sat on the divan and stared at the clock. It had been some time since I had heard Erik go out. I had thrown on a nightgown and ventured out of my room, stifled and strangely dissatisfied. He had stroked such feelings out of the organ that night and his music had awakened things in me, desires that I had never felt before. The ballet girls sometimes talked and with their knowing looks and their banter I knew they shared some knowledge that I did not. Sometimes, when they spoke of their amours I sat outside the circle, listening and aching, wretched in my innocence. My father had always taught me to prize my virginity, but no amount of virtue could shield me from the sexuality of Erik's music.

I had not known.

Foolish girl! I chided myself. How could I have not? His need was there in his eyes when we sang together and in the way he had offered his hand to me this very evening. The truth was that I had not wanted to see. While I believe myself to be nothing more than a pupil to him I could ignore the feelings he provoked in me. I could pretend that I did not think about the grace of his hands moving over the keyboard, that I did not see his smoldering glances, that my heart did not race when I thought of him. But tonight he had stripped me of that illusion.

Erik desired me.

The idea of it frightened and excited me. What would it be like to give myself to Erik, to surrender to him completely? My hands trembled at the very thought. I could not ignore what had happened but my own innocence made it impossible for me to do anything else. So, I sat, watching the clock, not knowing if I could face him and not being able to not face him...

It seemed an eternity before he came back and I knew immediately that something was wrong.

I heard the doorknob turn and I stood up, pulling my robe around me. His eyes widened as he saw me standing there.

"Christine, child..." Oh, how I hated that word just then," You should be in bed." He made to move past me and I noticed the stiffness in his gait, the unnatural way that he held his right shoulder.

"Erik, what is wrong?"

"Nothing." He said and turned his back on me to go into his room. I gasped, for even on the black of his cloak I could clearly see blood.

"My God!" I rushed over to him. "Erik, what has happened?" He turned, shrugging off the cloak in one graceful movement.

"I assure you that I will be quite alright."

I motioned him to a chair, pulling at his black dress coat until he took it off.

"An accident only, my dear." He seemed amused at my fussing but I was reminded of the other time he had been ill, the time when I had first seen his face. My heart constricted in my throat.

"Really?" I answered caustically. "So, you accidentally hurt yourself?"

I could see in his eyes that he wanted to make a sarcastic retort but he bit it back and submitted to my ministrations. His shirt was completely ruined, soaking with blood and torn. I eased it off of him. He winced as my hand brushed the wound on his shoulder and I could have cursed my own clumsiness.

"Wait right here." I instructed, getting some hot water and a cloth.

The bleeding had already stopped on its own and the wound did not look serious. Still I was worried that something terrible had happened.

"Erik, what happened?"

"Nothing Christine. I am fine, as I told you."

Suddenly I was angry at his lying.

"You are not fine! And don't tell me this was an accident because I know it was not!"

"No." He said quietly. "I was shot."

I felt the floor spinning beneath me. "Shot?" I echoed stupidly. "Someone tried to-to kill you?"

He sighed. "Perhaps it would have been better that he had."

A cold chill ran through me as I realized whom he was talking about. The washcloth dropped from my nerveless fingers.

"Is he..." I could not say the word.

Erik lowered his head. "No." He said flatly. "Your boy was in perfect health when I left him."

Thank God, I thought, closing my eyes for a moment. I did not like to think that Erik could kill Raoul without a second thought. It was enough to know that for my sake he had not. I took up the washcloth again.

"Thank you." I said softly.

He nodded, not lifting his head. I ran the damp towel across angry red line on his back. There were other lines there, thin white scars crisscrossing the length of his pale skin. I put out one finger and tentatively touched one of them. I could feel Erik's muscles bunch under his skin as I brushed first one, then another with my fingertips. How had he gotten such scars? He had told me some of his past, about how he was forced to display his face to public ridicule. Did his keepers do this to him? I closed my eyes, letting my fingers slide over the broken skin of his back, drinking in the pain that must have come from those scars, the pain of a boy beaten and broken.

Erik was trembling like a wild animal and yet he somehow submitted to my touch. I could feel tears running down my face and my heart went out to the boy he had been.

"My poor Erik." I said and leaned forward, pressing my forehead to his shoulder and winding my arms around him. He sat still and unmoving in my embrace.

"I do not require your pity Christine." He said. But his voice was not angry. It sounded sad and just a little frightened.

No one has ever touched him like this. I realized. No one has ever touched him with love.

The thought filled me and my heart expanded with the idea of it.

I released him and stood up, crossing to kneel in front of him. Erik's eyes were tightly closed and I could see his hands trembling.

"Erik." I pleaded. "Please, show me what to do." He opened his eyes and looked deeply into mine. Yes. His arms snaked out and pulled me towards him.

"Do you wish to make love to me, Christine?" He asked and his voice was dangerously low.

"Yes." I said breathlessly.

"With or without the mask?"

I drew in a breath. He saw my hesitation and threw me from him.

"Get out." He growled, standing.

"Erik…please…"

"GET OUT!" He screamed at me and I ran.