Chapter IX

The night was silent. The wind did not stir, and whatever breath there might have been in the air went unheard. That is of course if you were not Christine Daae who was running like a zebra for its life.

The young girl was speeding through the streets with more fervor than she knew she could have ever possessed. And her heart was pounding so hard that she was certain it would give out at any moment, and her legs were hurting her so badly that the man chasing her was momentarily forgotten as she continued being teased by her tired legs. Stop running, stop running – she kept hearing in her head but she could not. Her lungs, exhausted as they were, could manage to carry her a little further. Or so she hoped.

The man behind her had fallen some steps behind and Christine took this opportunity to quickly dart left and through another street. She looked behind her and saw the man bent over and grabbing his knees, out of breath and huffing angrily.

She didn't waste more time and continued running, she looked back and often saw that the man was still in his same place and was struggling to catch his breath. She turned into a dark alleyway, determined to hide there until Erik came and found her. She went in as deeply as she could and shivered in the darkness of it before collapsing against the wall and hugging her knees to herself and keeping an eye on the entrance of the alley, ensuring that if anyone were to come in she would see them before they saw her.

Erik got to his knees with a huff. The man beneath him had gone limp so time ago. And to Erik's great amusement the man had died right in front of the church. How ironic that this man should die in such an unholy manner before a church.

But the humor died down quicker than it had come. He did not hear Christine, he did not even see the other man that had been with the one dead at his feet. And then dread washed through Erik's system. Where was Christine?

He let his eyes roam the darkness of the night all around him and found no trace of her.

Instantly Erik started running through the street. He didn't know where to go, but knew that if Christine had run she would not be clever about it. She would run straight, so that was what he did. He thought in the mind of one who is panicked. And the more he ran the more panicked he became. What if he has taken her? What if he has harmed her? That would be my fault, your guardian would have failed you Christine.

Erik spied a man hunched over in the distance and slowed his run to a lithe walk; he pressed himself to the shadows of the buildings. He fixed his eyes upon the man straighten up and gasping for breath. He immediately recognized the male.

The masked figure moved forward and unleashed the Punjab lasso from his sleeve. The man lunged forward and wrapped the rope tightly around the neck of the other. In the dark no one would have seen anything, and no one would have heard it either. The figure that was masked tugged hard and pulled. He almost didn't feel the man flailing in his grasp as the life was choked out of him. He didn't care for it – he wanted only to find Christine. But he made sure to look into his victims eyes.

As the man's last breath was going out of his body, and his eyes bulged forth from his head like they were ill fitted to their sockets, Erik stared at him; the man's eyes searched wildly in the dark for the face of his killer, but found only a mask before this too was enveloped in darkness.

Christine couldn't feel her fingertips. She couldn't feel her feet, or her cheeks, she opened and closed her mouth, childishly afraid that perhaps her cheeks had fallen off. And her fingers were getting more unfeeling as the seconds passed. Christine didn't know how long she was there, but guessed that at least thirty minutes had passed.

From the front of the alley she caught sight of a black figure passing. She noticed a flash of white material with no eyeballs and stood to her feet. Was that Erik? Christine didn't know, but she was sure, she felt it in her very soul. Christine darted out of the alleyway and looked to the dark figure moving swiftly down the street. She wanted to call out to it… it was just as tall as Erik, and it wore the same cloak.

She ran towards it swiftly on her small feet and tried to be sneaky, but the figure stopped walking and suddenly spun around.

She gasped under the intense amber gaze from a few feet away. Erik's eyes burned brilliantly and she for a moment took it as anger, but as he quickly came her way she could not bring herself to care as to if it was or it wasn't. Her legs carried her swiftly to her dark guardian and she bounded into his frame with a fierce embrace.

Christine wanted to say something to him as he pulled her away to an arm's length and came down to meet her at eye level, but her lips were too numb and try as she might she couldn't think of anything to say. It seemed that Erik didn't know what to say either as he frowned at her deeply and ran his eyes over her carefully.

He was examining her for any injuries. His stony face was never as comforting as now. His voice would have made her feel better, but just the fact that he was here made her feel safe. Erik released a soft breath that fogged the air before her and he then took her hand in his and wordlessly led her back to their Opera House.

When they got to their lair Erik pulled her to the kitchen.

"Sit down," he ordered her. She took a seat and watched him as he grabbed candles and set them beside her on the mahogany table in the center of the room. The warmth caused Christine to give a sharp shiver.

"Are you hurt?" He asked her as he searched for something in the cabinets. She shook her head but remembering that he could not see her she answered, no. "Take that off," he motioned and she quickly removed her cloak from her shoulders. He turned to her and she saw some things in a bowl. She frowned as he kneeled before her. He noticed her dress had a bloody stain and he frowned up at her. "You told me you were not hurt-

"I'm not. I did not see that." She protested gently.

"May I look?" He asked her, she nodded and he lifted the dress just above her ankles, he noticed a slight abrasion on her leg and shook his head. "How did you get that?"

"Perhaps when I fell." She guessed. He took some water and washed it carefully, she stifled whatever sounds of pain she might have felt as he held a piece of cloth to it and carefully cleaned the wound. When that was finished he covered it with a sticky cloth that held in place.

Erik then took the bowl and dipped his hands in them, carefully he then took hers and resumed to rub them carefully, and she frowned in confusion. "What is that?" She asked, she noticed that the substance was oily and shiny.

"It is oil that will warm your hands." He responded.

She frowned at him now, "have I done something wrong?"

"Why do you ask that?" His question came out just as seriously as he intended. And for a long time Christine stared at him as if he were the biggest idiot on the face of the earth.

"You are acting… not like Erik." Her voice took a sad tone that he loathed. He knew what she was talking about but had hoped that she hadn't noticed his more-than-usual- despondent attitude.

Erik felt afraid of her for a small moment. He wanted to hide away from her intense gaze and her very curious and knowing eyes. He was ashamed that perhaps she was afraid of him, or worse that she did not trust him anymore. That the one good title cast on him was thrown away because of his disposal of the two assailants.

Surely she knew that he had killed them both? Or was she so naive…?

"I am acting completely like myself. The night has been very trying." He responded finally and continued rubbing her tiny hands carefully, the skin contact made him feel more uncomfortable than he liked to admit. But he had to do it didn't he. "If I come off as rude than you must ignore me, for I have a lot of things on my mind that you are far too young to understand."

She watched him, "Thank you. For finding me and taking care of me, twice now." She smiled cheekily at him. Erik stared, his eyes adverted themselves from hers for a few moments. He had never been so close to a smile, and especially not one directed at him… or even in his direction.

Erik eventually stood and turned from her as she stared at her warming hands in wonder and then sighed heavily. "Christine, you should go to bed, I think it best."

"Erik-

"Tomorrow you have school early… your performance is coming soon and you must rest. Perhaps you will not be able to go with that abrasion at your ankle-

"Erik!" She gasped at him. He turned around and stared at her, her gaze was on his side. He looked down to what it was that she looked at and simultaneously became aware of a cool feeling at his side.

He realized that blood was soaking through his shirt. With a grunt he escaped to his own room and tore at his shirt. He stood analyzing the gash at his waist and gritted his teeth, reaching for his needle and string. He would stitch this up immediately and be done with it.

"Erik!" He heard Christine at his door. He sighed with frustration. "Erik are you alright?"

"Everything is fine Christine, go to bed."

"Please let me in, I am afraid." Her small voice grew even smaller and he found himself unwilling to say no to her. Sharply he threw on his shirt and buttoned it carefully. He opened the door and found Christine fidgeting with her hands awkwardly, clearly enjoying the oil that softened her skin. "Erik, do you need a bandage?" Her eyes grew wary of the blood soaking the dark shirt.

"Do not concern yourself with it." He said sharply and turned to the bedroom. Christine entered a few moments later with a dazed gaze around the bedroom. She noticed that there was a bed in the center of the room but it seemed to be more like a black pool. The bed sheets were dark satin and the wood of the bed mahogany. There was a single rectangular rug in the center of the room with mahogany coloring. When Christine looked to Erik she noticed him staring at the wound at his side with a focused stare. The gash was not as bad as she initially thought but it made her cringe. She didn't liked the side of the red against his very pale skin.

"Do not get that look Christine. It is not as bad as it seems." Erik assured her. She looked up at him with a nod, swallowing back fearfully.

"You won't die right?" She murmured, "You're not-

"Christine." He interrupted her sharply. Her eyes widened. "I am not going to die; I will be here to protect you."

She nodded, feeling comforted. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He didn't know that there was anything she could really do but he sighed and took a seat on the bed. He noticed her moving to his side and hesitantly taking a seat beside him, she hardly moved the bed with her slight weight.

"Shall I sing?" She asked softly.

"If you wish," he replied, and sighed contentedly as she started singing gently. Her voice did not soar, but it wrapped around him and squeezed out whatever tensions he had previously felt. He blinked slowly and listened to her silvery tone, trying to allow it to envelope him fully.

As Christine sang Erik went to his needle and string. He turned his side away from Christine so that she would not see what he was about to do. The man he had been wrestling had probably pulled out a blade of some sort and sliced him there, in his fit of rage Erik had not felt it. Erik gritted his teeth as he pushed the needle through his skin, in and out, in and out, as Christine sang angelically behind him.

When he was done he put the needle into a tiny box and turned to face Christine who was drifting to sleep.

"You should sleep now," he murmured gently, coming to her side with exhausted eyes and slumping down onto the bed. It shifted with his weight and Christine shook her head stubbornly with half lidded eyes. "Christine," his tone was warning.

"I do want to be there alone," her tone was slurred and he sighed as he put his head down to the pillow and stretched out on the mattress. Erik threw an arm over his eyes to block out the dim light, "may I rest here tonight Erik? I cannot sleep alone tonight."

"Fine. But please stop talking." He said with defeat. He missed the satisfied lazy smile that drifted across Christine's face as she crawled to his side hesitantly. He hardly noticed the mattress shifting as she curled up beside his tall body and watched the unmasked side of his face.

She wanted to ask him why it was that he wore the mask. The question would be rude, she knew that but she couldn't help but want to know the answer to it. It was simple curiosity.

"Erik?" She whispered into the darkness. The man beside her gave a sigh. She bit her lip.

"Yes, Christine." His melodic voice answered back, she smiled softly, Erik had the nicest voice.

She bit her lip and moved closer to his side. Erik stiffened and almost jerked away from her but relented. She was not touching him at least. That was good, "You are still my Ange? Right? Even though I ran away tonight… you are not upset with me?" Erik turned to see that Christine was staring at him with a frightened expression. "I ran because when I stayed with Papa he had become distracted by me being there. And I was afraid that if I stayed this time that the same would happen, and then you'd get hurt."

He stilled further, his eyes unblinking and his hands unmoving, "You did not wish me to be hurt."

"Of course not Ange, I could never want that!" Christine's voice grew outraged and she sat up, staring down at him with shock, "I wish to protect you."

Erik's breath left him in a shudder. How ridiculous, that her, a puny child should wish to protect him, the devil's son! "Oh, Christine." His whisper left him in a tremble and Christine lay back down beside him. She lies beside a monster, and thinks me an angel. She wishes to protect this diabolical beast she so naively thinks angelic, and of all things she chooses me to be an angel! How perfectly absurd! But despite the absurdity Erik watched Christine drift.

"You're still my Ange?" She repeated her question dreamily with her back turned to him.

Erik turned on his back and stared at the ceiling, a ghost smile graced its way to his lips. "I am still your Ange."

The next few days passed as smoothly as usual. Christine prepared for the show with intensity and her music lessons went as good as always. Erik was proud of her progress, her voice was perfect. Her voice gave him hope for the future of this Opera house. It made Christine happy to see that he was happy with her singing; it made her proud to make him proud.

It was on the final day of rehearsal, as Christine and the rest of the girls were packing up their bags, having been let out of rehearsal three hours early, that she saw Raoul sitting with his father in the audience, speaking to the managers. Christine was shocked at first, but dismissed his presence as she made her way towards the stairs.

Naturally, she had no such luck. Before she could fully make it to the stairs Raoul was on her and he turned her around gently with a hand on her shoulder. She sighed and smiled at him pleasantly.

"Christine," he grinned at her, "how are you?"

"I am well Raoul," her blush crept up to her face as she caught sight of Meg Giry behind Raoul grinning widely from ear to ear and wiggling her eye brows at Christine. "How are you?"

"I am well," he smiled gently, "I saw you rehearsing; you and Meg Giry are the best dancers of the entire ensemble."

"Well I doubt that," she laughed gently, "I sing, I do not dance. I do believe you when you say Meg is the best however." She paused, remembering to be polite, "But thank you, you're very kind."

He smiled and blushed at her compliment, he stared at his feet for a long time and then looked up at her, her gaze was wandering, she looked just as nervous. "I was wondering if you would like to come play with me and my friends sometime… perhaps-

"Raoul you know I cannot."

"But why not Christine," he took her hands in his now, she frowned, finding this very dramatic but staring at him speechless and impressed with his tenacity, "you and I should be friends. You and I are very similar you know."

"You know nothing about me."

"I know that you have an insufferable guardian just as I have an insufferable father." He grinned boyishly, "and I know that you are brave, I can see that in your face, and I am brave too you know," he said proudly, standing up a little too straightly, "I am here despite the fact that the Opera Ghost would rather I did not see you at all."

She stared at him and then burst into a giggle, "Oh Raoul, a ghost? Have you absolutely lost your wits?"

"No Christine! I do not jest!" He admonished quickly, "It is true! He spoke to me about you! He does not wish me to be near you… but I do not care! You are my friend. How can you not want to have a bit of freedom Christine?"

She stared at him sadly; Raoul was a very kind boy. But Erik's eyes seemed to hover over her head anytime she even thought of the boy or of anything that might have any type of relation to Raoul de Chagny. "Oh Raoul," her tone became sad, "I do not know what to say."

"Say yes," he begged her gently, "look, tomorrow, before the show come with me. We shall quickly escape around the city, how does that sound? And I will have you back here before you know it."

"He will not be pleased," she shook her head at him.

"Fine, what about now?" He asked her softly, pressing her hands a bit more firmly.

"What do you mean?" She asked with a confused stare.

"Let's go now. You and I will go to play at my home; my father will not even notice my absence. I can get us there quickly by foot, my father only demands a carriage because he is far too lazy to walk." His blue eyes sparkled gently.

"But what will I say to Him?" Her eyes widened as she looked around and saw that most of the girls were headed out of the Opera House, "I must return at some point, and He waits for me. How will I explain myself when I return?"

"We will figure that out as we go, that's part of the fun." Raoul grinned at her coyly and took her arm in his own. "We can sneak around these people and into my house; we will play until our fingers protest."She blushed at the look he gave her, Raoul found her to be so pretty that he could only remove his gaze from her for a few moments. And he knew that she was indeed not especially pretty, her height was nothing extravagant and her eyes were a bit too large, her hair was very messy and too curly, and almost too long. It was as if nature had given Christine all the best features a lady might have and exaggerated them all to an almost unpleasant degree, but yet, she was captivating. "What do you think Christine?" He asked her.

She stared ahead of them with a tremble. The thought of Erik made her heart constrict. She had vowed to never disobey him again, "I cannot Raoul. I must be back before rehearsal's officially end… in three hours."

"Then we will have you back before that time." Raoul said to the young girl and smiled brightly down at her, she struggled to look away, he held both her hands gently as if they were made of glass, and tried to capture her eyes.

She bit her lip nervously, looking around to see if anyone had eyes on them, "alright… alright. Let's go."


Ah-oh... Seems like Raoul is convincing Christine to be a bit of a rule breaker.

So what did you think? Did you enjoy the building relationship between Erik and Christine? And did you enjoy SMART Christine? (hiding in the alley). I'm always so annoyed by these dumb Christine's I see in stories, I mean yes it does make things more interesting but lets give the character some common sense sometimes shall we?

So, do you want Erik to catch Christine hanging out with Raoul? What do you think? I have an idea of how it should play out... and oh boy will it be interesting :)

So tell me what you think! Did you find that Erik and Christine moment to be appropriate, and more importantly, do you feel a connection to the characters? I hope you do, I am trying to keep it at a pace that makes sense for where I have this story headed.

Warning: Chapter 10 will be the last of Christine's youth. From Chapter 10 on it will be Christine as a mature young lady, so things will most certainly be getting a bit more dramatic and much more touchy. The Rating will probably go from T to M because more mature themes that I find a lot of writers on here avoid, so I think it will be interesting to see all of your reactions for all of the awesome, gross, and horrific things I have planned for our wonderful characters :)

And oh boy is it going to be good, I can hardly wait.