Chapter X

He had not resisted. As their lips met and Christine's mantle of restraint fell away, there was an instant change in the usually mild manners of the doctor. He possessed her; pressed her closer with an insistent hand at the small of her back, and seemed to hold her in place by the firm, but gentle way he caressed her neck, and brushed away the renegade tresses to do so. There was no apology in the kiss. Neither wished to stop to draw breath, and Christine began to hunger for more than answers as he returned her frantic show with fevered kisses of his own. When sense came to him at last, he only reluctantly pulled away, breathless from the exchange.

Christine was dizzy and her mind was a flurry of conflicting thoughts all rushing about, like the frenzied actions of the nurses in a panic. She nearly swooned and was surprised to find strength in his arms that supported her.

"Christine," he rasped, emotion overtaking his voice, "Look at me."

She shook her head and moaned. What had she done? Surely, this was a betrayal of the worst kind. The ghost would be so angry! The ghost... she realised the music had stopped. When had the music stopped?

Christine began to thrash and toss her head like a terrorised mare in the de Chagny stables. "You tricked me!" she wailed, "You tricked me with the music, making me think he called me here! But it's just you! It's only you!"

"Christine!" he said with more force, shaking her a little by the shoulders. "I said, 'look at me!'"

She could not. Her head hurt. Her heart hurt, as well. It was so heavy, and the music had stopped, and she could not hear the voice, but she had no strength left to call him. She let her forehead fall against his chest, and wept bitterly.

At length, he put his arms around her, and let her have her cry until too exhausted to do otherwise, she allowed him to pick her up and carry her to her room. He set her on the bed with the greatest tenderness, and prepared to softly make a retreat while she slept.

"Wait..." she murmured, and he was at her side again in an instant. Her eyes were puffy and red from her weeping, and she looked altogether distraught. "Might you turn my covers for me?"

"Whatever you wish," he said, and by the hitch in his breath, it was as if he was on the verge of tears as well.

Christine thought how nice it would be if she could believe it. But she did not even know what she wished for, so how could any of her wishes be granted?

He folded the covers back with a precision Christine had only ever seen before in Mme de Chagny ordering the placement of linens. She burrowed within, wondering at the immense delight she felt in having such a simple thing done for her.

Perhaps... perhaps she could be happy with her doctor, after all.

And then, as she pondered it, without prompt or reason, he left a kiss on her furrowed brow before slipping out into the dark corridor.

It was some time she waited in silence before she could manage to call the voice with a feeble whisper.

"Are you here?"

"As I said I would be, whenever you have need." She could not read the emotion in his tone when he said, "You have made your choice, then."

"No!" she cried in sudden distress, the tearful pleas begun anew, "No, Angel! I need you!"

"For what, elskan? You have your doctor, now. You will be well! Go to him!"

"I need you, as well! Angel, don't leave me!"

His voice filled her senses as it used to so frequently, before the doctor had pressed his advances and she kissed him willingly in the room with the lamp. She thought at first her ghost meant to sing, to soothe her troubled spirits, but then the word, "Go..." invaded her mind; his whispered voice surrounding her, even as it faded. Christine's door was ajar. It slowly creaked open to reveal Dr. Derek standing in the doorway with a lantern.

He had returned. And the voice still spoke. Could it be that it was possible to have them both? The voice and her doctor? Surely, if one was only spectre, and the other flesh, they could reconcile their jealousies in both staying by her side.

The voice urged her on. Suddenly, it was no longer with her, but hovering over the doctor; coming from the doctor. Christine sat upright, and wide-eyed with disbelief, slowly let her feet slide to the floor.

He held his hand out to her, the one that did not hold the lantern, and said, "Elskan?"

"No..." she whispered. No. This was not... where did the voice go? Why was the voice inside the doctor? Something was devastatingly wrong.

"Come, Christine," the ghost's voice in the doctor's body said. "Come to me."

She obeyed with a feeble step forward, and just as her trembling hand was caught up in his, she let the sweet comfort of unconsciousness take her to the void.

Author's Notes: I'm so sorry this is abysmally short! I know, one of you was just mentioning how my chapters are too short, and I apologise for giving you one that's short even for my standards! But the thing is, I'm going to be on a cruise for eight days with no internet whatsoever unless I want to pay an inordinate amount of money per minute to use the WiFi. I am not swimming in cash, so rather than leave you all without a word I thought maybe you would like to have one last (early) update before I'm cut off from civilisation for over a week! And since I'm returning home around 11PM on an update day and the next chapter is nowhere near finished, the next one may be a week late. (Posted on the 21st rather than the 14th.) Consider this an attempt to bribe my way into your good graces until then!

Oh, and I've ended this one on the worst possible cliffhanger, haven't I? :P Goodness, that's bad timing! I'm dreadfully sorry! Honest!