A/N: Yay! Update!

This chapter is not as fluffy as past chapters. Fair warning. We vaguely find out what Erik was doing the night earlier. I had to do some research for this chapter. I also introduce a new character who will be involved for most of the Persia time. Erik doesn't know why he's sweaty.

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Here is the latest installment!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera

Raoul had not slept at all that night. He had been waiting up for Erik, who had not returned after his performance. The child was pacing like a madman.

Christine, on the other hand, was wrapped in a cocoon of blankets and sound asleep. Raoul did not understand how his friend could just be sleeping at a time like this.

Where could Erik be? It had been hours. Raoul's heart was racing. He slumped down to the floor and dug his fingernails into the carpet. He felt hot tears on his cheeks. He held his breath and counted to ten in his head, but that did not seem to help.

He was violently sweating. He looked up to the ceiling and took in a deep breath. He needed Erik. He needed Erik to hold him and tell him that everything was going to be alright. To tell him that he was not mad. To tell him that he was perfectly normal, as he always did.

Raoul buried his face in his knees, wiping his tears on the silky Persian pajama pants. He tried to cry silently, he did not want to wake Christine, but that did not work. Christine slowly sat up in bed and stretched up her arms. She noticed Raoul.

"Raoul?" her voice was delicate, as it always is, "Raoul?" She got off of the bed and rushed over to the boy, "What is the matter?"

Raoul lifted his head. His face was red and puffy. Snot dripped from his nose. He was hyperventilating.

"Raoul," Christine poked his shoulder with her index finger, "Please speak."

"Erik s-still h-hasn't re-returned," he was shaking, "He s-said he w-would, b-but he isn't. I-I am v-very frightened, Christine."

Christine stroked Raoul's back with her gentle hands, "There is no need to be frightened."

"Yes there is," Raoul dug his fingernails into his own arm, breaking the skin, "What if the Shah didn't like him? What if he hurt Erik?"

"He didn't hurt Erik-"

"How do you know!?" Raoul snapped at her, "He could be dead for all we know!"

"Raoul," Christine started to back away, "You're scaring me."

"Am I?" he cried, "Well I'm sorry, Christine! I am so very sorry! But as you can see, you're not the only one who is scared of me!" he ran his nails down his arms, scarring them. He was howling, he couldn't even bare to have Christine see him in this state. Lovely Christine, perfectly stable Christine.

"Who else could be scared of you?" Christine asked Raoul, "There is no one else here."

He looked into Christine's beautiful eyes, "I am."

"How-"

"I can't control this, Christine, you know that," he breathed heavily, "I'm destroying myself! I feel like my heart is going to leap out of me chest. It hurts to breathe, Christine. It hurts to speak! And I can't stop this, not on my own."

"You can!" Christine drew closer to the unstable boy, "You just need to breathe."

"I can't breathe, Christine," he cried, "I can't!"

"You can!"

"I can't!" there was anger in his eyes, as well as sadness.

"Raoul," Christine brushed the sandy brown strands out of the boy's face, "You are my best friend and I love you so much. You are strong, so very strong. You can overcome this.

"I can't, Christine. I can't!"

"Do you remember the beginning of the summer at the beach?" Christine spoke soothingly, "I dropped my scarf and it blew away, straight into the sea?" she ran her fingers through his hair, "I thought it was gone forever. I loved that scarf, my father had gotten it for me and I wore it everywhere. Then," Christine began to smile, "I saw some crazy boy, dressed in some very nice clothes, run into the sea to fetch my scarf. He was absolutely soaked to the skin and out of breath when he came up to me. And if that isn't brave, then I don't know what is."

"Y-You really think so?"

"Of course," she kissed the top of his head, "You were like a knight in those fairy tales that we read."

That made Raoul smile a bit, "But you are no damsel in distress, Christine. You always manage to save yourself."

The door slowly opened. The children could hear laughter. It was Erik. His robe was open and hung off of his shoulders. His hair was an absolute disaster. He had this odd odor, which smelled sickeningly sweet. He stumbled as he walked and crashed onto the bed. He gripped the blankets tightly and sighed, "Lord above, I want to take these blankets as my wife."

Raoul stood up and yelled, "Erik! Where were you? You had us worried sick!"

Erik didn't respond, all he did was rub his face against the blankets.

"Answer me!" Raoul cried. He approached the bed and yanked the blanket out from under the teenager.

Erik was now on the ground, lying on his back. He slipped his mask off of his face and started to cackle.

"What's wrong with him?" Christine asked Raoul.

"I-I d-don't know," Raoul stuttered.

Erik lifted his head and asked, "I can smell things so much better now! I want to sniff the world! Oh, it must smell amazing!"

Christine approached the teenager and asked, "Who are you and what have you done with our Erik?"

"Your Erik?" he cackled, "Erik belongs to himself…no!" he gripped the blankets tightly, "Erik belongs to these blankets! Oh, you would like a wedding invitation, wouldn't you?" he then whispered, "It will be a private occasion."

Raoul sighed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. He took in a deep breath, "Do you think this is a joke?"

Erik grinned, "No joke! We are deeply in love!"

"He's finally lost it," Christine muttered to herself.

"Where were you!?" Raoul demanded, "Why won't you answer my questions!?"

"Oh, you are so pushy, de Chagny," Erik sighed, "And I was going to make you the godfather," he rubbed the blanket against his face.

Raoul stomped his foot, "Where were you!?"

"Oh, stop acting like such a loon!" Erik rolled his eyes, "Just stop for a moment and smell this beautiful room!"

Raoul felt his face grow hot again. He bit his lip and tried to hold back his tears.

Christine looked concerned, "Raoul?"

"Just let Erik marry those blankets," Raoul growled, "He'll probably make you his bridesmaid!" his fists were clenched. He could not believe what Erik just called him. That word, that one little word tore Raoul apart. He swallowed hard, "If you need me, I will be in the washroom. I have to wash my arms, if you hadn't noticed!"

"Ugh," Erik moaned as he slowly opened his eyes. He slowly sat up, "Christine? Raoul?"

He then heard Christine's voice, "Raoul, please come out! You're worrying me!"

Erik stood up and saw Christine sitting against the door of the washroom.

"Christine?" Erik approached the girl, "Why is Raoul in there?"

She had a bitter tone, "You should know!"

"What should I know?"

"Oh, don't you remember what you said to him last night?"

Erik sighed, "Christine, I can barely remember last night."

"Well," Christine crossed her arms, "Raoul was in one of his panic fits and you made everything a whole lot worse!"

"I did?" Erik could not remember anything about last night, except the servant man and those pipes…

"You called him a loon!" Christine snapped at him, "And I am furious with you!"

"I-I would never call him-"

"Well, you did," Christine cut him off, "And now he's locked himself in the washroom and will not come out and it has been hours and I am very scared!"

"Christine-"

"Don't talk to me! I am very mad at you!" she huffed, "You hurt Raoul and I am very mad and I do not think I have ever been this mad, but I am!"

"I should talk to him," Erik sighed.

"Yes you should," Christine nodded her head, "And maybe I will be less mad at you."

Erik knocked on the door, "Raoul, please let me in."

No answer.

"Raoul, I'm sorry. I did something last night, something very bad, it messed with my brain," but it felt absolutely amazing, "Please let me in."

No answer.

"Raoul," Erik knocked again, "If you do not let me in…I will…I will break down this door!"

No answer.

"Raoul, I swear to God…"

The door opened slightly. A weak voice spoke, "What is it that you want? Don't you have your stupid wedding to attend?"

"What are you even-never mind. Will you let me talk to you? Please?"

"Fine," the boy grumbled, letting Erik into the washroom.

Erik got a good look at Raoul. His skin was red and scratched absolutely raw. It made Erik let out a small gasp.

"Raoul, oh my god, Raoul," he kneeled down, "Your arms, you face. What have you done to yourself?"

"You weren't there," his voice was cold, "I needed you!"

"Raoul-"

"And then you came back!" Raoul snapped, "Acting like a man who has lost his marbles! Barely even acknowledging me or Christine!"

"I-"

"Is that what you really think of me?" there were tears in Raoul's eyes, "I'm just a spastic little loon, aren't I?"

"No, no, no," Erik shook his head, "Don't you ever say that."

"But I am," he sat down on the ground, "I am."

Erik crawled over to Raoul and rubbed his back, "No. You are not, Raoul," he kissed the boy's head, "You are a perfectly normal boy. Perfectly normal. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. I promise."

"I'm scared, Erik," Raoul whispered, "I am so scared of myself."

"Raoul-"

"Look at my arms! Look at my face!" Raoul rolled up his sleeves, "I did this to myself! Me! And it…it felt so good, Erik! So very good! And I couldn't stop! I couldn't stop!"

"You're absolutely chafed," Erik touched the boy's arm, "You even broke the skin."

"I couldn't help it."

"Raoul," Erik looked into the boy's eyes, "I love you so so much. You believe that, don't you?"

Raoul slowly nodded.

Erik held Raoul close and kissed his tender hands.

"I love you too, Erik."

"Stay with me, children," said Nadir, "It is very easy to get lost in this city."

The Shah, so pleased with Erik's performance the night before that he wished for Nadir to show him his magnificent city.

Christine and Raoul were both wide-eyed and open mouthed. The city was absolutely glorious. The streets were lined with fantastic buildings. Various shops lined the streets, ranging from selling beautiful clothing to useless knick-knacks.

People would stare at Erik, Christine, and Raoul as they walked along. They stuck out like sore thumbs. Though, no one bothered them.

Nadir stopped in front of a store. It was very small, but the architecture was very distinct. It looked very different compared to the buildings next to it, very foreign in comparison, and a bit familiar.

Nadir then told them, "Mind if I stop in here for a moment? You three could come along, if you would like."

The three followed the daroga into the shop. From what Erik could tell, it was definitely a bookstore of sorts.

Nadir approached a lovely young woman, she was shelving books. She had sleek raven hair, which was tied into a loose braid. Her eyes were a warm honey color and she had a single freckle on her chin. She said something to Nadir in a tongue that neither Erik nor the children could understand. It made Nadir laugh.

Christine was curious, "What did she say?"

"I was just telling him about this very odd customer we had yesterday," the woman spoke perfect French. She turned to Nadir, "Are you going to introduce us, Monsieur Khan?"

"Forgive me," Nadir smiled, "This is the Shah's new entertainer," he gestured to Erik, "and his lovely sister and brother," he turned to the three, "This is Thana Henri, her father owns this store."

"Henri?" Erik questioned, "That surname does not seem to fit you."

"Much like you, my father is a Frenchman," said Thana.

"I'm Christine!" Christine tried to catch Thana's attention, "That's Raoul and that's Erik! It is very nice to meet you."

Thana smiled sweetly, "It is very nice to meet you, Christine."

"You are very lovely," the girl told Thana, "I wish my hair was like yours."

"Well," Thana kneeled down to Christine, "I have always wanted blonde curls."

Raoul, still not over the subjects prior to the day trip, tried to smile, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle."

"And it is a pleasure to meet you, young Monsieur," she looked to Erik, "And you are the mysterious Masked Magician?"

"That I am."

"Children," nadir looked to the two youngest, "Would you mind helping me look for a good book for my son?"

Christine grinned and took Nadir's hand, as well as Raoul's. The three walked to a shelf on the opposite side of the room.

Erik could not help but stare at Thana. She was very beautiful. He let out a sigh as she wiped the sweat off of her brow.

"Why are you looking at me like I have three heads?" Thana snapped her fingers in front of his face, "Hello?"

Erik came back to Earth, "I'm sorry," he quickly tried to think of something to say. His palms were sweaty. Why were his palms sweaty? What was going on with him, "Your French is very good, Mademoiselle Henri."

"Call me Thana," she said, "And my father is a Frenchman, as I mentioned."

"Forgive me if I pry," Erik said, "But you look like…well…"

Thana finished his sentence, "Persian?"

'Well, yes."

"My mother is."

"I am not too familiar with the customs here, but it sounds like-"

Thana finished his sentence again, "It would be a bit taboo? A Christian man and a Muslim woman? My father converted in order to marry my mother. He designed this building, you know. He's an architect, actually. Designed this store for my grandfather."

That's why it looked so out of place, "It is very impressive."

"It is, isn't it?" she smiled proudly. She blew a strand of hair out of her face and looked at Erik, "Forgive me if I pry, but what is with the mask? Well, I understand that you are the Masked Magician, but do you always wear it?"

"It's…uh…it's sort of my trademark?" his stomach was doing somersaults. Erik hadn't a clue what was going on inside him? Why did he feel this way? He didn't know if he liked it.

"So what do you do?" asked Thana, "Pull rabbits out of hats? Saw beautiful women in half?"

"I'm more of a musician, actually," Erik told her. God, he could not take her eyes off of her. Why couldn't he take her eyes off of her?

"So your music is your magic?"

"Basically," he said, "I play a variety of instruments, as well as sing. I have been told my voice is absolutely haunting."

Thana raised her eyebrows, "Is it now?"

Erik wondered, "Do you sing?"

Thana busted into laughter, "Oh, you are funny!"

Erik was very confused, "What?"

"I cannot carry a tune in a bucket," Thana told him, "Believe me."

"Have you ever thought about training your voice? Anyone can learn to sing."

"Oh, you are a very funny man, Erik," Thana chuckled, "Very funny."

"You don't believe me, do you?" Erik huffed.

"No, I do not," Thana answered, "But I give you props for positive thinking."

"I am teaching Christine, you know," Erik told her, "Just one lesson we have had and she already is improving."

"Erik, you are very sweet," Thana shelved another book, "But I am more interested in other things. I adore music, but singing and myself, we do not mix. Trust me," she giggled, "I enjoy the arts, but a different aspect."

"And what might that be?"

"I blame my father for this, but I design. Simple little doodles, actually," she looked into Erik's eyes and sighed, "Nothing big. Nothing to fuss over."

"I too dabble in design," Erik told her, "But nothing extravagant. Architecture intrigues me." Thana intrigued him.

"Really?"

"I'd love to see your sketches, if it's alright with you," Erik was blushing under his mask.

"Maybe another time, Masked Magician," Thana smiled with her tongue between her teeth. She reached onto the shelf and pulled down a book. She handed it to Erik.

"What's this?"

"A book."

"Well, I can see that."

"It's on Greek architecture, and it is in French, do not fret," she stated, "It's a fascinating read and I find it amazing how the ancients were able to build such complex structures without modern technology."

"I haven't any money on-"

Thana cut him off, "Consider it a loan. I would like it if you told me your opinions on it after you finish. You seem like an intellectual."

"I-I," Erik stuttered, "Of course! I'd love to!" He was drowning in his own nervous sweat.

"Great," Thana shelved another book, "You can drop by any time."

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