A/N: This idea has been turning around in my head for a while now, and I hope you enjoy it. This is what I think could have happened should Christine have stayed with Erik at the end of POTO. Mostly ALW based.
There were times the unfortunate events of my youth would randomly catch up with me, oh those blasted memories!
I couldn't remember much about my mother. And why should I want to? The woman hardly considered me even credible, much less her own flesh and blood! But still, at one time in my sham of a childhood she was the closest thing I had to a female figure.
Oh but now I had so much more…
For now it seems like I have finally been blessed, as equal as any other man. No... better than any other man, for I finally had what I have been desiring for many years - a wife. And not just any wife, but my seraphic angel, my Christine. These past few months with her had been started off problematic, but surprisingly have ended up in a state a pure bliss, would together by only the sweetest clasping of love. The simple pleasure of holding her in my arms was reward enough for all the separation that has plagued us. But now those days were gone - and now only peace remained.
And there my angel sat, her back to me and her nose buried in a book. I smiled and walked over to her, my hands dropping to her muslin clad shoulders.
The little jolt she gave made me smile, she placed the book down on the end table and leaned back into my touch, she placed her small hand over mine.
The action made my insides swell up with happiness. To think that this was the same frightened woman who started living here only 6 months ago… the transformation was just astounding!
"How is the concerto coming along?" She asked in that sweet, warm timbre she knew I loved.
"Oh it's coming along quite nicely, I just have to reevaluate those fast runs for the violin and then fix up the dynamics for fourth measure and…"
My voice faded into nothingness, I couldn't even comprehend words anymore. What I saw as I pushed her thick curls from her neck made my veins feel as though they were filled with ice.
Lumps… Red and angry, marred her once flawless neck. The skin around the marks wasn't even pale anymore, It was an ugly yellow. My hands shook as I searched the area. These marks… Their textures… They reminded me of something I knew all too well.
No! This cannot be happening! But Dear God this horrifying conclusion is so possible… My face… The infection… Christine… God no!
"Erik is something wrong?" Christine asked, her voice unsure. She stood and faced me.
I couldn't look her in the eye. Not now, maybe not ever again. I should never have the luxury of her touch ever again. I took a tentative step backwards.
"Erik, what…" She said, then stopped dead in her pursuit. I saw her do a double take as she caught her reflection in the small mirror above the fireplace. Her hair was still pushed to one side, giving her a clear view of her neck.
A scream tore from her lips as I sunk down into my chair.
Dear God, What have I done?
Thoughts?