A/N: OK so chapter 10…
Surprised I got this far to be perfectly honest. I never stick to anything for long usually.
Good news is I've got the rest of the story planned, so I have no excuse not to update often.
There will be approximately 20 chapters altogether, so we are about half way already, although I might extend bits so it could be longer.
So anyway, we're staying with Erik and Christine for this chapter.
And be warned…there are adult themes *wink wink* towards the end, but nothing too graphic because I'm so immature that I can't physically write anything graphic without giggling inanely :D
So yeah, enjoy :P
Chapter Ten: I Cannot Lose Him
A week had passed since Erik had awoken from his coma, and his condition had improved endlessly. The burns on his arms were fast becoming old scars, and the gash across his head was almost completely closed. The infection that had plagued his shoulder had disappeared, and it was healing fast, although his left arm, currently held in a sling, was still significantly weaker than his right, and even slight movements still caused pain to shoot through his chest. He was now allowed out of bed to eat and wash, although Christine insisted that he spent the rest of the time either in bed or sitting in his chair.
He could not deny that he enjoyed the attention; Christine refused to leave his side unless absolutely necessary and she waited on him hand and foot. After ten years of separation, her constant presence was unfamiliar, but incredibly comforting. He loved the time they had to spend alone together, although he was more than aware of the seemingly perpetual absence of his son.
Christine had assured him that the Vicomte would not hurt the boy, and as much as Erik trusted Christine, he couldn't help but wonder if she was speaking out of naivety. Of course she would want to believe that the man she had spent ten years of marriage with would not hurt her son, but the man was clearly no longer in his right mind. He was definitely not the boy he was ten years ago, who even Erik had to agree, Christine was better off with. How he regretted leaving her with that man. If only he had stayed that night, who knows where they would be now? Happy and all together somewhere, with their son beside them.
Whilst he dreamt about the life that might have been, he was sat in his chair in the aerie. Christine was bustling around in the kitchen cooking some dinner. His chair was situated so that he could look out at Phantasma. At least, what was left of it. Only the side closest to the aerie had been left undamaged. Beyond that, all that could be seen were the black, charred remains of the vast city of wonders that had once stood there. All the lights that used to shine so brightly that they stood out against the midday sun, gone. The world Erik had spent the past year building, and the nine years before that earning the money to build it, burned to the ground in minutes.
He was only relieved that he had made even more money since it had opened than it had cost to build. Although, most of that money was now owed to the banks who had loaned him the extra funds in the first place. He calculated that he had enough money left to live comfortably for the next five or so years. But what about beyond that? He would have to find a job, to provide for his new family, once they had Gustave back. Gustave. Why was he worrying about money when he hadn't even found his son yet? Why was he wasting time sitting here, when he could be out looking for him?
He was decided. They had to leave now; he had spent far too long recovering from the injuries inflicted by the same madman who now had his son. They could wait no longer. He stood from his chair and headed for the kitchen.
Christine was startled by his entrance, and she put on her angry face.
"Erik what on Earth are you doing? You know you aren't supposed to be walking around," she lectured him.
"Hush, Christine, I am not an invalid," he shook his head, "I am perfectly capable of standing."
Christine shook her head at him, before sighing and turning back to the stove, where various pots and pans were simmering and bubbling away.
"We must leave tonight, Christine. We have left it far too long already. We cannot wait any longer."
Christine dropped the spoon she held in her hand and turned to face him.
"Erik, you are still not well," she began.
"I am well enough," he interrupted, "and the ship to France will take another week. I will have plenty of time to recover."
Christine looked uncertainly into his eyes. It was true that the ship would take almost a week, and in that time Erik was sure to have recovered unendingly. And the sooner they left, the sooner they could find Gustave. They looked into each other's eyes, Erik's asking for her trust, and Christine's telling him that she wanted to give him that trust, but was too afraid. Eventually Erik spoke the words that his eyes were saying.
"Christine, trust me."
She looked into his eyes for a second longer, and then nodded, flashing him an uncertain smile. He smiled back confidently, and held his right arm open to her. She shuffled forward into his one-armed embrace, and rested her head upon his shoulder. He held her tightly against his chest, and buried his face in her hair.
"Have I told you I love you yet?" Christine mumbled into his shoulder.
Erik chuckled softly, "a few times. But I never get tired of hearing it."
"I love you," she told him as she kissed his shoulder softly.
"I love you, too," he replied quietly, burying his face further into Christine's hair.
"Well, well, well, Erik," came a voice from the door, "You are looking better."
Erik and Christine broke apart, turning to face to doorway, where Madame Giry stood, smiling in amusement at the pair. Christine smiled, while Erik blushed furiously. He was unused to intimacy as it was, never mind being watched during an intimate moment, and especially whilst he was unmasked.
"Good evening, Madame," Christine greeted, smiling sweetly, "I'm just making supper if you would like to join us?"
"Thank you, Christine, but I must get back to Meg. I have just stopped by to see how our Phantom is getting on," Madame Giry replied, looking pointedly at Erik.
"Very well thank you, Madame. Well enough to leave for France tonight," Erik stated.
Madame Giry looked suddenly shocked.
"Erik, you have only been out of your coma for a week. You cannot possibly travel to France."
"It has been decided, Madame," Erik declared unwaveringly.
"But Erik, you are famous in France. The Phantom of the Opera, you are a wanted man," she whispered urgently.
"It has been ten years since I left France. No doubt they will think me dead and will have called off the search long ago," he told her confidently.
"But Erik, people do not forget that easily. If you walk into France with a mask on your face and with Christine at your side, people will notice you."
"Then we will hide ourselves. I have a friend back in Paris who will gladly let us stay," Erik assured. Madame Giry made to argue, but was interrupted by Erik's stern, but passionate words, "Madame, my son is in France in the care of a madman; a man who tried to kill me. Every day we remain here is another day that Gustave is alone, and possibly in danger. He is a part of me that I never dreamed I could have, and I cannot lose him." Erik's eyes welled up as he spoke, and Giry was silenced.
Christine gently took hold of Erik's free hand and stood beside him.
"He's right," was all she said.
Madame Giry looked at the pair, and saw the love flowing between them, and the love they held for their son. They were right, they had to find him.
"At least wait until the morning. No doubt one more night will make a great difference, especially with your rate of improvement."
Erik looked ready to argue, but he was stopped as Christine moved around in front of him to face him. She looked up into his eyes, and he down into hers.
"Perhaps waiting until tomorrow morning wouldn't be such a terrible idea. We need to make plans after all."
He melted under her gaze, and nodded. He could deny her nothing.
"Tomorrow morning," he confirmed with a sigh.
She smiled at him and moved forward into his embrace.
"I shall return in the morning to see you off," Madame Giry announced as she smiled at the couple.
"Thank you, Madame. You have been most helpful over the last few days," Christine thanked, turning around to face her whilst still in Erik's protective one-armed hold.
"It was all my pleasure, Christine," she smiled, and then turned on her heel and let herself out.
Christine once again turned to face Erik. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, whilst he encircled her waist with his one free arm.
"Just think, in little over a week we will have our son back," Christine sighed contentedly, gazing into his eyes.
"Christine," Erik began, his face showing the dark shadow of doubt he felt at her words, "it will not be easy to get him back. It may be a long process; the Vicomte is unlikely to give the boy up so easily."
"I know," she told him, dropping her gaze, "but I can always hope."
When she didn't lift her eyes, Erik whispered, "Christine, look at me."
She looked up, her eyes shining with the build-up of unshed tears.
"We will find him," he told her confidently, but gently, "I promise you, we'll get him back."
She looked into his eyes for a long while, searching for any sign of wavering conviction. When she found none, she nodded, and gave him an affectionate smile.
He grinned back at her, before bending down and capturing her lips in a soft kiss.
For a long time they just held each other, raining each other in chaste kisses, enjoying the feel of one another's lips. As time went on their kisses became hungrier, and more explorative. Lips moulded against lips, tongue against tongue. At length, Christine pulled away, her eyes darkening. Erik gazed at her with hungry eyes, licking his lips softly. She took his hand in hers, and began walking backwards, leading him into the main room where the bed was situated. She paused beside it, and stood on her tiptoes, reaching up to meet his lips with her own again. As she kissed him passionately, her hands wandered down to his shirt buttons, and she began to release them slowly.
When she had undone the bottom button, she broke away from his lips and reached up to untie the fabric sling that held his left arm up across his chest. She supported his arm, lowering it slowly to his side, and he winced slightly at the movement. Once it was hanging comfortably down beside him, she slid her hands under his open shirt, and ran her fingers up his scarred chest. She slid her hands up and over his neckline, pulling the material down backwards over his shoulders. His shirt fell away easily down his back, exposing his top half. She ran her hands up and down the skin on his chest and stomach, causing him to shiver.
He reached forward, and began to untie her dress. He pulled at the lacing but with only one hand, it was an impossible task. He sighed in exasperation at his incapability, but Christine reached her own hands up to take over. He dropped his arm, and watched her in awe as she slowly, and seductively, began to remove her dress.
He sucked in a deep breath as the dress fell from her shoulders to the floor, and he was pleasantly surprised to find that she hadn't bothered to wear a corset. He gazed down at her form, completely uncovered except for the thin, lacy white underwear that sat at her hips. He licked his lips hungrily as she bent down to remove the last offending garment, leaving her standing completely naked before him.
She took a step towards him, and pressed herself against him, reaching up to kiss him passionately on the lips. He returned the kiss fervently, his good arm sliding up and down the skin on her back. At length, she drew back, and turned Erik's body around so that he stood directly beside the bed, with his back to it. She gently pushed him backwards towards it, and as his calves made contact with the metal frame, he was forced to sit down upon it. He gazed up at her, astounded by her beauty. She pushed his chest back, forcing him to lie down, with his legs still hanging over the side of the bed.
His breathing quickened as her fingers danced down his body, all the way from his chest and stopping just below his belly button. She released the clasp on the last remaining item separating them painfully slowly. She could see he was already straining against it, but still she teased. At last she slid the garment from his legs, and threw it aside.
She helped him shuffle fully onto the bed, before climbing above him and straddling him. She bent her head down and kissed him with tormenting passion, enticing him further under her glorious and tempting spell. The only sound to be heard was their heavy breathing and furious heartbeats.
A/N: I'll let your imagination fill in from here xD