AN: Update! Who's happy? For those of you that miss the action, yes, I know you want it back. It'll be a while though, since I'm focusing on relationships and such for the time being. Relax- Moreau hasn't given up yet; it's just taking time. Also, thanks to xXxMusexXx for beta-ing, as usual.

Disclaimer: The only thing I own is a copy of the movie.

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"I can't," she realized. "I can't tell you yet. I can't tell you that I love you while Raoul and I are still engaged."

He struggled against laughter. "Rightly so. It would be most unfair." His heart was more light than he imagined it had ever been before. The Vicomte had been correct. She loved him. The joy of it was overwhelming.

He couldn't help the convulsions that shook his chest, however, and after about a minute it occurred to her what she had said. "I… oh, no!"

The laugh caught in his throat let loose, and his chuckles filled the room. It occurred to them both at the same moment just how rarely he laughed. "Perhaps the boy has more sense than I had thought. Tell me again, Christine. Please."

Christine stared hard at the bandages around his torso, blushing profusely. "I should not have said anything."

"But you did," Erik said gently. "Do not deny me the small joys I might have, Angel. Say it again."

She sighed. "I love you. Perhaps I always loved you. I am merely sorry for how long it took me to realize, and how I hurt you."

His embrace tightened around her. "You do not know how long I have wished to hear those words. You cannot begin to understand how lonely I have been without you. I love you as well, Christine, though I believe you know this."

"What do I do?" she moaned. "I said I would marry Raoul."

Erik's eyes flashed darkly at the thought, but he wisely suppressed a reaction. "You need only break the engagement."

"Is it that easy?" she asked. "Can I destroy him as I destroyed you?"

A knock sounded, and Erik forced himself to sit up. "What is it?"

"May I come in?" Raoul asked, voice muffled by the door.

Erik shifted to the chair, glancing at Christine. She nodded, so he answered. "You may."

The heavy door swung open and the Vicomte stood framed in it. "I hope I am not disturbing you."

"Come in," Christine said with a faint smile.

Raoul threw a wad of fabric at Erik, who easily caught it. "A fresh shirt. I thought a maid might have created some difficulty, if you had removed your mask. How are you, Christine?"

She considered her breakdown previously. "…Weary. Very weary."

"Yes, I imagine you have had a very difficult time," the young man said as he rested his hip against a nearby table. "Did you sleep well?"

"Thank you, I did."

Erik pulled the shirt over his head, noticing it to be too large on his frame but not caring. He didn't bother to lace it. "Is Madame available? I would like her to check my wounds again."

"She is in the lounge at the end of the hall," the Vicomte informed him. "She suspected you might wish for her aid."

Erik strode out without another word, leaving the other two to stare at each other uneasily. Eventually, Christine broke the silence.

"You must have been very worried."

"Indeed," Raoul replied slowly. "I am most grateful to Erik for rescuing you."

They had not really spoken since she had been kidnapped, save a brief moment's conversation in Erik's home while she had barely said a word. So much had changed.

Finally, Raoul met her eyes. "You love him."

"How did you know that?" Christine whispered, though she had already suspected as much.

A faint smile creased his boyish features. "Everyone knew, save for you. I had merely hoped you would come to love me."

"I do love you, Raoul…"

"But as a brother," he finished. "Or an old friend. Not a lover. Not a husband. You needn't worry over our engagement. I understand where your heart truly lies."

He went to the door once more, but her voice stopped him. "I am very sorry."

He faced her once more. "Do not be sorry. In the end, you were always meant to love him."

"I should not have allowed you to think otherwise."

"I merely wished, Christine. I had wished that you would be able to forget him. It is clear now that you never could. He needs you," Raoul finished. "He needs your love more than I."

"Thank you," Christine said in a low tone as he opened the door. "For understanding, thank you so much."

"Be happy," he told her.

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Erik winced as Madame Giry loosened the bandages once more. "You should have taken more care while sleeping," she scolded. "Remaining upright did not aid your recovery."

"I was with Christine," he explained through gritted teeth as the tender scabs tore.

"Of course," his sister sighed. "As you always are. Surely there was a bed available for your use, but no, you had to remain with her. While I applaud your dedication, you might wish to consider your own health now and again."

Erik's eyes leveled with hers. "Was I to leave her alone when she woke, knowing how upset she would be?"

Antoinette frowned. "You are not the only one that might have seen to Christine's needs. Meg would have remained with her if you had but asked."

"She needed me," he replied simply.

Madame paused and considered his expression. "You certainly seem in higher spirits than usual this afternoon. Would you care to explain?"

He only shook his head with a smile. Madame Giry continued with the task.

"It appears," she said quietly, "that the Vicomte's parents shall be arriving this evening."

"Will they?" Erik asked. "He must be pleased. I cannot imagine the joys of having one's parents actually come to call."

She glanced at him. "Your parents were never there, were they? You speak of your past so rarely. You've never even given your true name."

"The family's name means nothing to me. The child that carried it, even less. Erik Destler is my true name now. I do not wish to be connected to a past that contained only pain."

"And now? What does your life contain?"

He shook his head again. "Merely attempting a different tactic will not sway me. I will not answer."

She sighed. "You are a very stubborn man. Very well. Keep your secrets. You always have. However, I wonder at your uneasiness at Monsieur le Vicomte's parents visiting."

"On the contrary, I have no interest in the matter."

Madame merely arched one brow as she began caring for his hands. "Perhaps most might believe you, but I do not. I have known you for a long time, Erik, and I saw worry in your eyes when I spoke of them. What, I wonder, would be the cause of that?"

"There is no worry," he argued. "I merely question the reception I might receive at their hands, as we cannot yet leave the estate safely."

She still seemed not to believe him, but held her tongue. "If you say so. How is Christine?"

"Coping," he answered after several seconds' pause. "She is coping, though initially she was most distraught. She wept for some time."

"Christine has been very sheltered through our combined efforts," Antoinette observed. "By your hand and mine, she has been more protected than any other in the opera. No doubt her mind is having a difficult time accepting that man's death."

He nodded. "She is indeed. In the end, I told her the truth of my own life, even things I have never shared with you. After, she seemed to understand."

She eyed him critically. "If there are things you thought needed to be kept from me, I am surprised you had decided to share at all. Tell me."

"I have no wish to do so again so soon. I do not like to speak of it."

"Doubtless. No details, then. Just tell me where you were while I was away from the Populaire."

"You knew?" he questioned with a faint smile.

"Of course," she replied. "Did you think Monsieur Lefevre would not speak of your absence all those years? He was very surprised by your reappearance."

"Very well," he consented. "I travelled after you had left. Primarily, my time was passed in Persia. I suffered misfortune and returned to Paris in time for the Populaire's renovation."

"I shall assume that something terrible occurred there, but that is enough. You told Christine the complete story?"

"I did. She seemed to take it quite well. I had promised her, while we were still trapped with Moreau, that I would tell her the truth."

"I am surprised," she said quietly. "You so rarely speak of the past. I have never heard your true name cross your lips. You also never told me the truth of your past."

His eyes closed. "What do you want? Apologies? I can hardly bear to think of my past. Telling Christine was a monumental task. If you want me to tell you… I may in time. I would prefer not to. It is simpler to consider my life as beginning the day you saved me. The Populaire has been the only place in which I have known any sort of peace. Can I not keep that? You have done a great deal for me, Antoinette, and if you asked it of me, I would give you the truth, however painful it may be."

Madame Giry just smiled. "That admission is enough. I simply feared perhaps your trust in me had faded, my dear, yet just since we found you, already you have said some things I am sure you would not typically have spoken of. I have suspected for some years that you were of noble birth, and the things you have said confirm it. Is it true?"

"It is," he admitted reluctantly. "Though it hardly matters. I doubt that family realizes I still live."

The Vicomte stepped in. "How are your wounds?" he queried.

"They are healing well," Madame Giry told both men. "You needn't fret, Erik; they will be gone soon enough. How is the pain?"

"Tolerable."

Her lips quirked slightly. "I assume quite high, then. You would never admit to its existence otherwise. Have you considered taking one of your concoctions to ease it?"

Erik glared at her. "I said it was tolerable."

"Erik, I have known you for many years. You are in far more pain than you say. Take something to help it."

He continued to glare at her before sighing. "Very well. I shall shortly. I believe the Vicomte has some matters he wishes to discuss with me."

Raoul started slightly. "How did you…?"

"You are not the most subtle of men. If you had nothing to discuss, you would not be lingering here. Is there anything else, Antoinette?"

Madame Giry shook her head. "No, I've done what I can. I will see to it again when next we both are awake." She exited the room quietly, pulling her daughter away from the door as she did.

Erik watched until their footsteps had faded. "What is it now?"

"I spoke with Christine."

"I am aware," he drawled. "What of it?"

"We broke our engagement," Raoul said finally. "I am no longer standing between you."

"I imagined such would be the case, given what I learned from her and the things you have stated before. Is there something else you wish to say, or will I be permitted further rest? As Madame says, I am in some pain."

The Vicomte began to say something, but stopped himself. "It's unimportant. Christine is awaiting your return. Rest. I will send Meg to awaken you come supper, though if you would care for a small bit to eat now, I might have a servant gather some light foods for you both."

"I cannot speak for Christine, but I am not hungry. However," and the words tore at him, but he wanted to be polite, for her sake, "thank you for the offer."

"Send word if either of you require anything," Raoul told him as Erik began to move to the door.

"I shall." He felt he needed to accept that, at least, in consideration of his injuries.

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AN: So that's that. My beta has already gotten on my case for the "real name" thing- it should be revealed next chapter-ish. Does anyone have any guesses? I think there's enough groundwork now that people might be able to start figuring it out. As usual, reviews are good and make authors happy and want to write more, so whatever you have to say, I take. Till next time!