Have I kept you waiting long enough? Or do you think you can handle a little more suspense? If the former, the wait is over! If the latter, too bad, 'cause here's the next chapter!

Erik

My ears rang with the silence in the house. I looked down at her still form in her bed, her face so pale it made her fiery hair look darker than ever. I myself was still so numb I could barely think.

I had heard it faint as the scurrying of a mouse—a noise like glass shattering. I'd gone to her room and knocked on the door, calling her name and receiving no answer. There was a horrible sense of dread in my mind, though I didn't know why. I finally opened the door and went into the room. The light was on in the bathroom. Not wanting to intrude on her privacy, I called her again, but again there was no answer. I took a few steps forward and saw her. She was lifeless on the floor, lying limp as a rag doll in a pool of blood.

I'd flung myself down on my knees beside her, drawing her to me and noting her slashed wrists with a thrill of horror. I pressed my fingers to her throat, searching for a pulse. It shocked me how ashen she was; even her lips were white. Finally, I found it, the tiny little throb that proved there was still even the faintest spark of life in her.

I hurried to stop the blood that continued to flow from her wrists. How much had she already lost? How long had she been unconscious? Surely not that long. I'd heard that crash; she must have broken the mirror to get something sharp enough to cut herself with.

That's bad luck, I found myself thinking wildly, then But since when do you believe in luck?

I tore some towels into strips to bind the cuts and tried to revive her. I shook her, splashed her face with cold water, and tapped her cheek urgently. "Vivienne!" I said, my voice rising to a shout. "Vivienne! Wake up!" I slapped her, trying to provoke a response. "Please wake up," I begged, shaking her again. She couldn't do this to me; she couldn't leave me alone. I couldn't be alone again. "Vivienne!"

Her eyes stirred beneath the lids and there was the smallest whisper of breath from her lips. I froze, hardly daring to hope. She sighed and went still again, and I checked to be sure. Yes, she was still alive.

I couldn't just leave her on the floor. Nervously, I unhooked the clasps of her bloodstained gown and slipped her arms out of the sleeves. I dampened another towel and sponged the blood from her skin. It stood out most sharply on her face, drying into a rust-colored crust on her cheek and forehead. It was matted in her hair, but I couldn't do anything about that at the moment.

I gathered her into my arms and lifted her. Her legs slid from the ruined skirt with a soft rustle of silk, and the white of her undergarments was only a shade lighter than she was. I carried her to her bed, tucking her in as carefully as if she were a sleeping infant. If she lived through the night, she might have a chance.

She shifted slightly in discomfort, and I realized she was still wearing her corset. Small wonder she wouldn't settle; it had to come off.

She'll be livid when she finds out, I said to myself, a hint of a smile tugging at my mouth. If she woke up to be livid, it would be fine with me, and she was so funny when she was angry. I gently raised her into a sitting position, then began to work at the laces. Damn, foolish, idiotic things. I had no idea how a woman managed to breathe, let alone get herself into one of these death traps to start with. I cursed softly, and she gave a tiny whimper. I paused, waiting for her to do something else, but she was still unconscious. I finally managed to unlace the corset, taking it from her and tossing it aside. Her body felt so soft beneath my fingers as I rested her against the pillows once more, and I couldn't keep myself from raking my eyes up and down along her form, freed from its many layers of clothing. I absorbed every curve, every shape, every detail…she really was a beautiful little creature…

I gave myself a little shake and drew the blankets over her again. What's wrong with you? I chided myself. You don't need to be looking at her like that, especially when she can't even say a word in protest! But still, I couldn't resist the temptation to reach out and tenderly stroke her cheek. "Get well," I whispered. "Get strong, and come back to me."

She didn't stir.

I dragged the sofa across the room to the side of the bed and sat down. I would watch over her as she slept, and hopefully try to make sense of what had happened—and what was still happening in my head.

"Why did you do that?" I asked. "Was everything really so bad? You could have talked to me, trusted me. I know I've done some terrible things, and that you must hate me for keeping you here, but I would have understood. Why did you want to leave me?"

Her silence was my inspiration; I began to speak and found that I couldn't stop.

"I've lost count of how many times I've thought of doing what you just tried to do. Knives, poison, bullets, my own lasso…I haven't lacked the means. What I lacked was the nerve to carry it out. Isn't that strange? A man who has taken as many lives as I have, and I've taken quite a few, can't find it in himself to take his own. Is it fear? Am I afraid to learn what waits beyond this life? A black void of silence? Purgatory? Hell? It can't be that I still think there's something here worth living for.

"But that's it, isn't it? I have you. I'm not alone now, after so long…Twisted as it is, you being a captive, I have you to live for and care for. Where would you be if I weren't here?

"Where would I be if you weren't here?"

She sighed and slept on, leaving me to ponder things I didn't want to face.

Vivienne

Was this what death felt like? This leaden heaviness? I'd imagined it would be some sort of release; I'd been praying it would be a release from all the pain. Instead, I felt trapped within this…shell? Stone? Was I bound for the tomb, or merely locked inside one?

I could hear a voice outside the shell that was my existence. It was so familiar, so hypnotic, so seductive…It seemed to lure me back to wherever it was I'd come from, what I'd wanted to leave behind. I didn't want to go back, but I didn't want to be parted from that voice. I was sure I knew it from somewhere…

I sighed as it came to me. Erik.

Erik

She spoke! She said my name! Did she know I was here, waiting for her to wake up? I stood and went to her, taking her hand in my own. "Vivienne?" I said. "Can you hear me?"

Her hand was cold. Was she dying? I examined the bandages on her wrists; they were too tight. I cautiously loosened them, taking care not to disturb them too much in case she started bleeding again. I continued to cradle her fingers long after I'd finished with the bandages, running my thumb over the knuckles and marveling at how much smaller her hands were in mine. Her skin was soft and smooth, and usually held such heat. Now, however, it was nearly as chilled as mine.

"Fire, remember?" I asked. "Life. Vitality. Not this. Not this, ma petite." I raised my other hand to her face again, tracing her pale lips and touching her eyes. They flicked back and forth beneath my fingers, racing under closed lids. Was it another nightmare? I was afraid to leave her, and afraid to wake her. I began to hum again, watching her closely. Eventually, she grew still once more, the slight trace of fear in her expression softening into peace.

I felt so protective of her…If she had a bad dream, I sought to chase it away. If she were unhappy, I did what I could to cheer her. If something threatened her well-being, I removed the threat. I may have done it grudgingly at first, but now…She wasn't just my prisoner anymore; she was more than that.

But how much more?

I thought of how close I came to losing her, and it terrified me. She couldn't leave this place, I wouldn't let her. But she could still leave me—she nearly did leave me. What would I have done if she'd succeeded in killing herself? What would I have done if she'd snuffed out the flame within her forever, and stranded me in the dark once more? Where would that leave me? I didn't want to lose her, not now, not ever. I couldn't lose her. I depended too much on her—

My hand closed even tighter over hers and she winced slightly in her sleep. When had I come to depend on her so much? I barely knew her. She should be nothing to me. I'd sworn to myself long ago that I wouldn't let myself rely on another ever again. So why did the idea of the loss of my companion fill me with such fear? If I'd guarded myself as vigilantly as I should have, it shouldn't affect me so badly. But the truth remained that she had a way of making me feel alive in her presence, not the walking corpse I'd been since Christine left me. The light in her seemed to touch me until I felt as though I too might shine brighter. I actually felt…human, when I was around her.

Too human…Humans could feel hope and joy, and it could also be taken away from them and leave them broken and withered with nothing but shattered memories and impossible dreams. I had learned that lesson with Christine, or at least I thought I had. Now here I was, ready to be schooled again in loss and heartache.

I took my hands away from her and clenched them in my lap. "This can't be happening," I murmured to myself. "Not again. Please, God, not again."

I couldn't let myself do this. I couldn't let myself…

I couldn't even bring myself to say the word "love."

Vivienne

Why couldn't I just slip away? I felt as though I was hovering between two planes of being—being alive, with all the suffering it brought, and being…not alive, with whatever came with that. What exactly did come with death? Was there a Paradise beyond earthly existence, as I'd been taught? Was there Perdition? Was there anything at all? And I'd tried to go there, wherever "there" was, of my own volition…wasn't that supposed to be the greatest sin of all? Did that mean I would be sent to Hell? Was there even a Hell to be sent to?

I didn't want to find out. I wanted more than anything to wake up, to return to myself and the rest of the world. I would gladly take whatever it would offer me, but I just couldn't face this. I didn't know what I was most afraid of: the questions in my mind, or what the answers might be.

But damn it, I was so tired! So weak!

Wait a minute…did I just curse? I hadn't picked up that habit until recently, until…what was his name, again?

Ah, yes. Erik.

That was Erik's voice in my ears, wasn't it? Speaking so softly, humming so sweetly. Why was he humming? He usually did something else…Didn't he usually play the violin? Yes, that sounded right. He played for me, to help me sleep with no nightmares. It was so kind of him, and not at all the sort of thing I would have expected from the Opera Ghost. But then, Erik really wasn't anything like the Opera Ghost at all, was he? He was difficult, to be sure, and temperamental, and so moody, but he wasn't so bad.

I could have laughed at myself. My thoughts were all aflutter, dancing from one thing to the next. It was the only kind of dancing I'd done in two years…I should dance a little when I woke up. It was disgraceful for a member of the ballet to neglect her art for so long.

But I was a violinist, now. Erik was teaching me. He was a good teacher, despite being so rude about my uncle. What was it Uncle played? That's right, a viola. He was so skilled at it, but not a patch on Erik with his violin. I hoped Uncle was paying more attention to his playing than I was to my dancing.

No, wait…Uncle didn't have a viola anymore. It had been stolen by the man who'd…And even if it hadn't been, Uncle could no longer play it, because he was…

I felt the sorrow at the edge of my thoughts, but I could still hear Erik humming to me. I focused on the sound, shutting out everything else, and it wasn't long until I could feel myself relaxing again. So long as I had that voice to anchor me, I was safe.

Erik

I stayed by her side all through the night, not wanting to even blink lest something go wrong in even that split second my eyes were closed. If I slept, I knew I would dream, and the only question was whether Christine would return to haunt me, or if it would be Vivienne I searched for, but never managed to find. There was nothing for me to do but wait, and time seemed to crawl. How long had I been sitting there with her? Hours? Days? Years? All I wanted was for her to wake up, but I had no idea what I would do with myself once she did—if she did. The prospect of her never opening her eyes again was like a waking nightmare, but the notion of her returning to me now that I knew what I knew of my own feelings was…alarming? Disturbing?

Wondrous?

Ah, so our dear Erik is aware that he's attached to our dear Vivienne... I wonder what happens next? Stay tuned to find out!

P.S. I'm officially a Beta! If anyone is looking for someone to read their work, I'm all ears. Or eyes, whatever. :)