Hi guys!
Okay, so this was a really difficult chapter to write: there's a lot of stuff going on, and it took me ages to try and get it right. So…tell me what you think. Also, I've been really desperate to get this posted up as soon as possible, so apologies for typos and whatnot.
Read and review!
Jegsy Scarr
xxx
It was early evening by the time Christine arrived back at the hospital with Erik's things. Erik had just woken from a nap to find yet another few people peering in the window to his room. Normally, if he was in good health, he would have said something to them, threatened them, maybe. Erik was never one to just simply ignore staring or abuse: somehow he felt that by ignoring it, it was as if on some level he was agreeing with the cruelty, accepting there was nothing he could do about it.
But in his current state, lying exhausted and shivering in his hospital bed, there really was nothing he could do except stare back at them. This time, staring was all it took: they were just curious people, not meaning any harm. They quickly moved on, although one of them had the audacity to look down at the floor pretending to have dropped something, rather than admit she had been caught. Do they not realise that I'm a human being? Erik sighed. He wished more than ever that Christine was there at his side just to defend him…no, he couldn't risk causing a scene. He wished she was there just to hold his hand and tell him that everything would be all right.
His stomach grumbled. A few hours before, a nurse had come round the wards with a trolley and trays of food, but Erik had refused: he didn't think he would ever be hungry enough for hospital food. But he knew he would have to eat something eventually. He was going to need his strength.
He decided to pull the curtain across to the window of his room. Carefully, he got to his feet, grasping the IV stand with a trembling hand. If I just move this… Erik tried to push the stand along in front of him, but it didn't seem to want to move. Pull it, maybe? The wheels squeaked a little on the floor as it went along. He had walked three feet at the most when he realised that the drip had become tangled around the stand. Oh, for the love of… It took him several seconds to untangle it, and he managed to tug on the cord a little as he did, sending a thin rivulet of blood down the back of his hand. Frustrated, he sat back down on the edge of his bed. It occurred to him that he no longer needed the drip now that the last dose of Naloxone had been administered. Now it was just fluids. Fluids which he would soon be losing once the next stage of withdrawal set in…
Erik tried not to think too much about that. It frightened him. It's my fault, though. For taking the morphine. He sighed. I just wanted to control something in my life. I suppose that's what it's always been about. Control. That had been the reason for a lot of things. He had been searching for so long to find some way to control his life. The morphine, the absinthe: all attempts at…at forgetting his past. The murders he had committed: for his career (which, of course, had led to him seeking a way to forget). Even Christine's kidnapping had been his way of making sure he had even a chance of gaining her love.
And where has it got you? Erik sighed, looking down at his left arm: his hand still trembling, still connected to that awful IV. And it would seem impossible, but he had actually succeeded in making himself look even worse than he had before. Track marks all around the crook of his elbow, hideously twisted veins turning his forearm into a landscape of azure mountains and valleys. And these. He lightly traced a few of the straight white scars that crisscrossed along his arm, like furrows ploughed into a field. Hmm…it's been a long time since then. I don't think she saw them earlier…how on earth would I explain them to her?
Erik tugged the sleeve of his shirt back down over his arm as he heard a knock at the door: it could only be Christine. "Come in."
The door opened, and Erik's eyes widened in disbelief. "Christine?" She nodded, and came into the room, setting a black leather suitcase and a smaller pink rucksack on the edge of the hospital bed before taking her place at Erik's side.
Erik was astounded by Christine's new appearance. The long blonde curls which he had always found so angelic were gone, replaced with straight brown hair which no longer fell even past her chin. Her eyes, once as blue as the sea, or the sky, or the rain: now a dull brown, which, Erik supposed, reminded him more of mud. Even her pale Scandinavian skin was now several shades darker from what he decided was fake tan of some kind. Christine looked positively…ordinary. It would be far more difficult to identify Christine now, and although Erik was reassured by this, he couldn't help but feel a little saddened, as well as extremely grateful. She looks so…different…still beautiful, of course, but…I can't believe she did this for me.
She also looked decidedly sad. She listened to the messages. What must she think of me now? "Christine," he whispered, as he took her in his arms and began acquainting his fingers with her new hair. "You understand? You understand why I had to keep the truth from you?"
Christine nodded again, still not sure what to say to Erik.
He tried to explain to her anyway. "If you had known, if you had found out, I was so sure you would have hated me. And that you wouldn't have understood why Erik did this, why he had to protect you." He paused for a moment, kissing her forehead. "But now I know that you love me, and that you do understand."
Christine said nothing. Erik changed the subject quickly. "Did you bring Erik's things?"
She fetched the suitcase from the end of the bed, and Erik put it on the chair beside him. He fumbled with the catch a little as he opened it, and Christine reached out to help him, but he dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "Books." He smiled. "You brought me 'Under the Dome'?"
"I…I wasn't sure if you'd finished it or not." Her voice cracked a little as she spoke.
"Not quite. How far did you get?"
"Only a few dozen pages or so. I got grossed out when this lady got her hand sliced off."
Erik chuckled, and Christine smiled at him, glad that they'd forgotten about the phone messages – she wanted to forget. "So you didn't get as far as the town selectman trying to get over her OxyContin addiction?"
"Oh." Christine found herself feeling very awkward. "How does she do?"
"Quite well. Not that she gets to enjoy it. They never do in these books." He chuckled again, putting the books to one side and looking back into the case. "Enough clothes for a week?"
"For two. I packed extra, just in case."
"Such a good girl," Erik said, patting her head, and Christine felt strangely thrilled that she had pleased him. "And…" He took out the little brown package, looking at it for a moment in an odd way, as if unsure of what to do with it next.
"It's the right one, isn't it?" Christine asked worriedly.
"Mm-hm. It's the right one."
Christine looked at it hesitantly. Am I supposed to see it, or is it secret? She almost asked him if he wanted her to leave the room whilst he opened it, but Erik had already begun to remove the outer packaging, and take out a small box wrapped in pink tissue paper. A present for me? That's really sweet of him. But why is the box so small? "What is Cartier, Paris?" she asked him.
"Cartier? It's a jewellers."
"A jewellers?"
"Mm-hm. They design rings."
Rings? Christine stared at Erik, certain that she must have misheard him. He can't…he doesn't mean… But it soon became clear that her ears hadn't deceived her, as Erik slowly unwrapped the little black ring box and gave it to her, looking deep into her eyes as he did.
She met Erik's eyes, searching for a sign that she was mistaken, that there was something else, something completely innocent in the box. But all Christine saw in Erik's eyes was an intense longing, hopefulness. Cautiously, she opened the box, holding her breath.
Inside, nestled in red velvet, was an engagement ring.
Still unable to breathe, Christine took the ring from its box, examining it in the light. It was gold with a white diamond, as Christine supposed most engagement rings were. But this ring was most definitely unique. Next to the diamond was a white pearl, and beside that, a tiny golden bird, a nightingale, with its minute wings outstretched, and its beak open in song. Two small chips of ruby served as its eyes, with three rubies set into the band on either side of the bird, pearl and diamond. The pearl, however, was even more remarkable. It had been intricately carved into the shape of a rose.
Christine tilted the ring away from her as she checked for an inscription inside the band; unsurprisingly, Erik had included one: To my Christine – the nightingale's rose.
She looked back to Erik, who still watched her unblinkingly. "Erik, I…I…" Her voice faltered. What was she supposed to say to him?
Erik's brow furrowed slightly. "You…you do like it, don't you?"
"It's…it's beautiful, Erik. I love it." And that was the truth. She didn't think any ring could be more perfect for her. If anyone else had given her a ring like that one, then Christine wouldn't have still been sitting there, staring at the ring in disbelief: she would have already slipped it onto her finger, would have already been kissing him, crying out over and over again that she would marry him, no question about it. And…she loved Erik. She had been so relieved that he was okay, after fearing that she had lost him. Sometimes in the past she had been afraid of him, but that was only because she didn't know him then. Now, when Erik held her in his arms, she felt safe, and happy, and loved. She wanted to be held.
But…but how could I marry him now? After what he did to my dad…Erik's hurt him so much: it'd be like I was betraying him if I married Erik. And it's not just that. How could I marry someone so…callous about other people's feelings? Who can hurt people so easily…and not even care…and…and I still love him. What does that say about me?
"Christine?"
What do I say to him? He just proposed to me. I have to say something. Anything.
"I…I don't know what to say." Well, I suppose that's better than saying nothing.
"Say 'yes'. Say you'll be my wife." Erik spoke as if it would be the easiest thing in the world. "Just think of it, Christine. It would be perfect: just you and me, together for the rest of our lives." Erik pulled Christine to him, putting his lips to her ear. "Think of what we could do together," he breathed. "We could start a family together, grow old together, spend every day together." He said "together" as if it was one of the most beautiful words in the world. Which it was. To him.
He was very convincing. She was almost prepared to forget about what he had done: she so badly wanted the simple life of happiness he was offering. But I have to talk to him about it. I can't just pretend it didn't happen. "Erik?"
"Yes, my angel?" She could hear the expectation in his voice.
She didn't want to make him angry. She wanted to ask him matter-of-factly about it: "Erik, could you just explain to me exactly why you didn't tell me you were tapping my dad's phone?" She didn't want to sound upset or accusing until she knew everything. That was what the rational part of her brain wanted to say.
What she actually said was, "You…you hurt my daddy."
Erik sighed, clearly frustrated with her. He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "What do you not understand, Christine?"
"How could you just…not…care about him…"
"What, do you think I didn't care? Do you think I felt happy with what I had to do to him, what I had to put him through?"
"Then why did you do it? Why did you…"
"Because I wanted you! Because I knew that the only way you would ever be with me is if you had no choice!"
"Erik, please…" She tried to calm him down by putting her arms around him again, but realised quickly that it wasn't going to work: he was too upset.
"Listen to me, Christine," he hissed. "Do you think I'm perfect? Do you think I'm a faultless individual that never makes a mistake, and never does anything wrong?"
"Well, no, but…"
"I have news for you," he told her sharply. "I am not perfect. I can be selfish. I can be controlling. I realise that sometimes, I can even be cruel. I know I have faults…" He laughed bitterly. "Surely you realise that now? After this?" His laughter turned to tears, and he turned suddenly away from her, sobbing. "I need your help, Christine. You said you'd love me no matter what…please, help me…"
Christine nodded slowly, tears coming to her eyes. My poor Erik…
He took Christine's face in his hands and made her look him in the eyes. "I didn't want to hurt him. I didn't want to hurt anyone. But I did it, because I wanted you so much, that in the end I didn't care that I was hurting him: I only wanted you. That was all that mattered to me." He closed his eyes, pausing as he tried to control his tears. "Do you think you can help me, Christine?" he whispered, stroking her face gently as he did.
"I want to help you, Erik," Christine replied. "But I don't know how. I mean, I don't know anything about…about this."
"Oh, no, Christine, you don't need to…I just need you there with me." He embraced her lovingly, stroking her hair again. "By my side, at least for tonight. Tomorrow…tomorrow I have to face this alone. Withdrawal symptoms tend to get more and more extreme as the days go by."
She shook her head. "I'll be there, Erik. Even if it gets a little…"
Erik looked at her quizzically.
"A little messy," she finished. "And…about…marrying you: I'll think about it."
"That's right. Think about it." He picked up the ring from the bed where it lay. "I know it's know it's not…traditional, but, would you wear it for me, until you make up your mind? I just want to see you wearing it."
Christine thought about this, and then held out her left hand to Erik, watching as he slipped the ring onto her finger. It was a slightly strange sensation: it didn't seem so long ago, only eight or nine years ago, that she had played dress-up using her own mother's engagement ring. It felt odd to be doing it for real.
Of all times for his stomach to rumble, Erik supposed it would be then, during one of the most romantic moments of his life. "Sorry," he told her sheepishly.
Christine looked concerned. "Erik, when was the last time you ate? You didn't have any breakfast this morning."
"Maybe…last night? I had dinner last night…"
"You picked at it. Picking at food isn't eating."
"Hmm. I suppose not."
Christine thought about this. "You know, I saw some leaflets in the hallway downstairs for a pizza delivery place. Want some pizza?"
Erik smiled. "I'd like that."
Half an hour later, Erik and Christine were sitting at either end of the hospital bed, a large vegetable pizza in a box between them. Christine ate her half, the diamond on her finger catching the light every time she raised her hand, and tried to decide whether or not to agree to Erik's proposal. Erik ate his half, his hand steadily aching from the drip, and tried not to dwell on what would happen to him in the next few days.
Christine smiled as Erik yawned after finishing his final slice. "Tired?"
"Not particularly. Finished?" He put the empty pizza box to one side, and took her hands in his. Christine looked up at him, and Erik almost wept at the sight of her face. So beautiful…so trusting. I don't deserve her. "Come and sit next to me again. That's right." He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her closer to him. "I need to talk to you, Christine."
"Why? Is there something else you need to tell me?"
"No, Christine, nothing like that. It's just…You know that I love you very much, don't you?"
"Of course, Erik."
"And you know that I only want what's best for you?"
"Erik, where is this going?"
"I've changed my mind. Tonight, I want you with me. Tomorrow, I want you to go home. I don't want…"
"Erik, please…"
"I don't want you to be there when this gets worse. It's not something you should see."
"Erik, do you think I'm a child? Do you think I can't handle seeing you ill?"
"Christine…" A light sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead. "I just don't want…you don't understand how severe this is going to get."
"I can handle it, Erik."
"You say that, but you don't know…"
"I can handle it, Erik."
"Christine, listen to me…"
"No, you listen to me, Erik," Christine told him fiercely. "If you think that I am just going to stay at home while you're here at the hospital suffering, then you obviously don't know how much I care about you. I can't just wait back at the house not knowing if you're okay or not." Tears began falling from her eyes, and she was unsurprised when Erik brushed each one away for her almost immediately. "If…if something happened to you, and…and I wasn't there, I'd…"
"Christine, nothing is going to happen to me. You have to trust me on that." He was crying now, but not for the same reasons Christine was. He took a couple of tissues from the box at his bedside, giving Christine one and dabbing his eyes and around his nose with the other. "What's wrong? Did you think I was going to die, Christine?"
"Mm-hm."
"Oh, Christine." The tears were genuine now. "I'm not going to die! I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I know I must have scared you."
She laid her head on Erik's chest, the sound of his heartbeat reassuring her. "It's just, when I thought I'd lost you, I…I mean, you're one of my very best friends in the world, and…and I love you so much. I didn't want to lose you..." She smiled weakly, and planted a kiss firmly on Erik's hot forehead.
"Christine, you'll never lose me. I promise you: whatever happens, I'll never leave you. Never."
She nodded. "I know that. I…I was just so frightened, when you…when you couldn't breathe, and then…and then you fell asleep, and I couldn't get you to wake up, and…and I just thought it was going to be like my mother all over again, and…that you wouldn't – "
"Your mother?" Erik was stunned. "You remember that?"
Christine nodded again, more slowly. "When she was really sick, you know, when she…when she didn't have long left? Because we only had a nurse come to the house four or five times a week, and…only for a few hours, I think. And my dad had to work most days, and he couldn't cope anyway, so…so I had to go in, sit with her sometimes…" She trailed off.
Erik paused, taking in the new information. "And you were there? You were with her when she was ill?"
"Mm-hm. But she slept a lot then. She was on a lot of painkillers, and stuff."
Morphine. I bet it was morphine, and I've just had the audacity to put Christine through this all.
"And…and she didn't really recognise me when I spoke to her. She sort of…stared at me, as though…as though she thought she might know me, but wasn't sure where from." She paused, lost in thought, then shook her head as if clearing it of thoughts. "Anyway, the point is that I saw her when she was really sick." She laughed nervously. "I'm pretty sure whatever happens to you can't be any worse!"
Erik looked at her silently for a few moments. "I…I had no idea. I thought you hardly remembered your mother, Christine."
What little smile Christine had had faded. "I don't, really. I guess…I remember her a little, but mostly…I just remember when she was…dying."
"Christine…"
"So that doesn't really count, does it?"
"Christine…" Gently, he pulled her towards him to meet his eye level. "I…I'm sorry. Truly, I am…"
She shrugged. "It's okay, Erik…"
"No, no, listen to me…I'm sorry, Christine. If…if I had known…" He sighed. "I would never have put you through this if I had known. I would have…I would have given it up for you, I know I would have…"
"Erik." She leaned towards him, lightly kissing his lips. "It's okay. You're right: you're not perfect. But I love you all the same." She laid her head on his chest again, closing her eyes. "We'll get through this together, hmm?"
"Hmm…"
"I don't blame you, Erik. I know it's difficult for you…" She laughed. "Look, we've been through all this: blaming ourselves, apologising over and over again… How about we just concentrate on you getting better?"
Erik considered this. "All right. But I still want to make this up to you, Christine." Although I'm not sure how…
"Later, then. Once you're better."
He nodded wearily, stifling another yawn. "Christine…would you mind drawing the curtains for me?"
"Of course. Do you want to rest? I…I can leave if you like…"
"No…I mean, yes, I'll rest, maybe, but…please stay."
Christine smiled, getting up to close the curtains. "Sure. I brought my things with me just in case…oh…" The nurse she had seen earlier was approaching Erik's room. She pulled the curtains shut, then took a seat in the chair by Erik's bed.
A knock at the door, then the nurse was back in the room, staring at Erik. Not this again… Christine was tempted to yell at him, but she remembered what Erik had said: best not to cause a scene. But it felt awful not saying anything, and she found herself biting her lip, squirming in her seat.
She caught Erik's eye; he gave her a very slight nod, as if to tell her it was okay. "Excuse me?"
The nurse froze. He looks like he didn't think Erik could talk, Christine thought, very annoyed. "Yes, sir?"
"Do you think you could disconnect the intravenous infusion line, now that the last dose of Naloxone has been administered?" Christine grinned: Erik was obviously thinking the same thing as her. He's not going to let him think he's stupid. "You can just leave the cannula in place, if it's easier."
He blinked. "Uh-huh…" He did as he had been told. Clearly, he was too taken aback by what Erik had said to question him.
Erik smiled smugly at Christine, who was now biting her lip to stop herself from laughing.
"I'll…I'll have to reconnect it once - "
"Once we get to stage five of withdrawal, yes, I know."
Well, that shut him up, she thought, happily. Although…what's "stage five"? That sounds rather ominous…
The nurse unhooked the empty IV bag from the stand, and left the room. Erik noticed with a feeling of satisfaction that, whereas before he had been unable to stop staring at his face, he was now actually avoiding looking at him. Ah, so I've established the fact that I'm a human being…good. Either that or he's just bored of looking…hmm…
Christine turned to Erik, still grinning. "Give me a moment, Erik," she whispered, getting up from her chair. "I just need to sort some things out." She left the room, closing the door softly behind her, scanning the corridor for the nurse. There he is… She walked up to him, taking a few deep breaths.
He had stopped in the middle of the hallway as he perused a patient's chart. Christine cleared her throat. He stopped reading and turned to her. "Can I help you, Miss…"
"Jennifer."
"Jennifer…"
Christine gave him her best smile. "Could you please tell me who's in charge of this ward?"
"Oh. Well…" The nurse considered this, obviously unsure. "I…I suppose, right now, I'm in charge."
Christine noted the hint of pride in his voice. "Great! Then, I need to ask you about staying here tonight."
"Staying…here?" A puzzled look appeared on the nurse's face.
"That's right. I was hoping that I could stay overnight with…with Isaac - " God, I almost said 'Erik' " – just to look after him."
The puzzled look vanished. "Ah, I see…Hey, that's really sweet!
"Mm-hm."
So…you must really care about him, then?"
Christine nodded. "I do. I just want to make sure he's being taken care of."
The nurse smiled at her in a way that was almost cute. "That's…that's really nice of you! Yeah…I mean, you get girls who really don't care about anyone but themselves, and here you are…that's great. I really admire that, especially when he's…" He paused.
Christine smiled patiently, but hoped he would finish up his small talk. I need to find out what's happening with Erik…and I'm pretty sure that he's flirting with me. The nurse was probably in his early twenties, and now that Erik was out of his sight, he had barely taken his eyes off of Christine. Oh, well. As long as he lets me stay here with Erik…
"Yeah, that's…great. I…I'll need to fill in some forms for you…might take a little while…"
"Okay."
He gestured to Christine to follow him. "Lindy probably has them…I think she's still on front desk duty…"
"Sure." She followed him downstairs, looking around her carefully. The hospital was significantly busier than it had been earlier in the day, and she wasn't sure how well her disguise would work. It seems to be working fine so far, I suppose. It feels strange being without all my hair…
She arrived back at the hospital reception. Miss Linden was still engrossed in a magazine. "Hey, Lindy?"
"Mm?" She barely looked up at him.
"Yeah, I need an application form for an overnight visit?"
The receptionist yawned, turning the page of her magazine. "Bottom drawer on the right, Tom."
"Thanks," he told her, making his way behind the desk. "Don't strain yourself, now, Lindy." He winked at Christine, and she stifled a laugh.
"Here we are." He took a pen from his top pocket, and walked back around the desk. "Okay, I'll just fill this in for you. So…Jennifer…?"
Christine tried desperately to recall whether she had told anyone her name earlier. "Giry." I've borrowed one name already. I might as well borrow another. "G-I-R-Y."
"Uh-huh…It's 'Rasmussen', right?"
Christine nodded. She was a little surprised Tom had remembered Erik's name. Maybe he's not as bad as I thought…
"Do you know his address, date of birth…?"
She stared at him blankly. Oh, no…"I…I don't…"
"That's okay. I'll check his records later...How are you related to him?"
"I…I'm not related to him, exactly. We're…friends. That's okay, right?"
He shrugged slightly, obviously not bothered. "Sure…" He filled in a few more details. "So, is he like, a family friend, or something?"
Christine considered this. "He's…well, it's a little complicated…"
Tom froze, his pen hovering mid-word over the page. "Complicated? As in…?"
She didn't have to answer him. She could already tell that the nurse had worked out what was going on between her and Erik. There was a strange look in his eyes. He…he's worked out that I'm in love with Erik…and it freaks him out! He's probably…disgusted at the idea of us… The realisation hurt her, but she forced herself to accept it. If I'm with Erik, this will happen a lot. "As in…I care about him very much."
Tom bit his lip. "I…I'm sorry. I…thought you were a relative…I can't grant you permission to stay here if you're just his friend."
"Really?" she asked acerbically. "You were fine with it a moment ago."
"I…no, I…I thought…"
"You thought he was my friend, and said I could stay."
"No, I didn't say - "
"And now you've changed your mind, all of a sudden. Why?" She tried to keep herself from raising her voice in anger, but it wasn't easy.
He sighed. "Look, I can't let you stay with him. It's…against hospital regulations."
Christine paused. "Is it?" She tried to sound as confident as she could; after all, she had just witnessed Erik getting the nurse to do as he wanted just by acting confidently.
He nodded slowly. "It is. Sorry."
She had a sudden brainwave. She laughed, flashing him her prettiest smile. "That's funny! Hospital regulations. Like…the one that says you have to…I don't know…wash your hands before and after changing a patient's IV?"
Tom's face fell. It's working! Now, here's the tricky part. Was he watching Erik the whole time?
"That kind of regulation? It would be awful if someone found out about regulations being broken., Say…I don't know, if someone were to record evidence on their phone, perhaps?"
"I…I…"
His voice faltered, and Christine knew she had won. "Changed your mind? Great! So, I guess I'll be staying here till Isaac's better, I'll just share a room with him, and…I'll get my own breakfast tomorrow morning. 'Kay?"
She skipped back upstairs, triumphantly, listening to the faint sounds of Lindy's laughter as she got further away.
"Oh, Tommy, she totally owned you!"
"Shut up, Lindy…"
"Owned!"
"Shut up!"
Christine laughed. You shouldn't have…that was so mean! Erik's a bad influence on you! But she couldn't stop herself from smiling all the same.
Erik was reading when Christine arrived back at the room. "Hey, sweetie…"
"Christine. Everything sorted out?"
"Mm-hm. I'm staying here with you tonight." She sat down beside him, giving him a kiss. She noticed how warm he had become. "Have you finished your book yet?"
"Just a few more pages." He didn't mention the fact that he found himself concentrating more on stopping his hands from shaking than on the words themselves.
Christine smiled. "You really like Stephen King, right?"
"He has a certain…way with words."
"Mm-hm. Have you read all of his books?"
"Almost all of them," he told her. "I just have to read some of his newest; you understand, I haven't had much time for reading recently."
Christine nodded. "I…I can get you some more books from the house if you - "
"That's fine, Christine." Erik sighed. "I don't know why I bothered asking you to bring me books. A few more hours…I won't want to read anything."
She considered this. "So…what do you want to do? Do you…just want to sleep, maybe?"
"Hmm. I suppose I should, really."
"It…might help you get better."
Erik yawned. "I doubt it. But I need to rest. For tomorrow." His voice sounded steady enough, but Christine was sure she detected a hint of fear in Erik's hoped he would be better soon.
"That's fine. I'm a little tired, too." She gave Erik another kiss. "It's been a long day."
It certainly has been. And tomorrow will be even longer. "You said you were staying here tonight?"
Christine nodded. "I brought my pyjamas and things. I'll just…stay…here?" She hesitated. "I mean, here?"
Erik stared blankly at her for a few seconds, before he realise what she was asking. "Oh… If you want…if you don't mind…"
"I…I just want to be close to you, just in case you need anything during the night…"
In case I need anything…such a sweet girl… "That would be wonderful."
"Okay." She got the pink rucksack from the bottom of the bed. "I'll just…get changed?"
"All right. Remember your contact lenses."
"Oh!" She rubbed her eyes. "I forgot."
"Mm-hm. You'd better take them out. We don't want your eyes to dry out, do we?"
Christine shook her head, heading to the bathroom. "Just give me a minute; I'll take them out."
Erik yawned, putting his book to one side. "Come back soon."
She went into the hospital bathroom, feeling her face turning red, and shut the door quickly behind her. What am I doing? It's Erik, for goodness' sake! But she couldn't help feeling self-conscious. I just offered to sleep with him! She supposed she had spent the night with him before, falling asleep in his arms. But…it's just…different somehow. We're not just friends anymore. Now, he's asked me to marry him. It's…official now. She closed her eyes, trying to think. He wants me to marry him, spend the rest of my life with him…I do care about him. And he makes me feel so…safe, so loved. I'm sure I could be happy if I married Erik…
But that's the thing, isn't it? I don't think I'll ever be truly happy if I'm away from my dad. Christine burst into silent tears. Oh, Daddy…I love you so much…I miss you…and…I so want to see you again. She dabbed at her eyes with a piece of toilet paper, feeling completely lost. I love you. And I'll try my very best to see you again…but…Erik needs me. She sighed sadly. Marriage was such a big commitment; she hadn't expected to be faced with the prospect of it at eighteen years old. I wish I could talk to Daddy about it. He'd know what I should do.
As Christine changed into her pyjamas, she managed to catch her ring on the sleeve of her t-shirt, and it slipped off of her finger onto the floor. She slid it back on, checking it to make sure it was realised the ring was perhaps a size too big for her, which, she supposed, she shouldn't be surprised about. I never wear rings. It's not as if I have any he could measure it from, like he did with the rest of my things: my shoes, my dresses, my…bras… She blushed again, reminding herself that it was Erik, and that she could trust him.
Christine opened the bathroom door slowly. "Erik?"
He was already asleep, lying under the covers, his mouth slightly open. She smiled, turning the light out and locking the door to the room. She carefully got into bed beside him, noting that he had been kind enough to leave a space for her at his side. She kissed his face softly, taking a tissue from the bedside table to dab at his forehead for him. He's burning up. And…he's still trembling. She pulled him closer to her, laying his head on her breast. I just hope this will be over soon.
The knock on the door woke Christine up. She opened her eyes, stretching and groaning slightly. She looked up at the ceiling, vaguely aware that Erik was lying beside her, and whispered his name softly. "Erik?" She felt him twitch, and she stroked his hair.
There was another knock on the door, and Christine started to get herself out of bed. "Just a minute," she called, reaching for her dressing gown. As she walked to the door, she looked briefly over her shoulder to make sure Erik was all right. The sheet was pulled up around his shoulders, his face slightly buried in the pillow. I'll just let him sleep, then.
She unlocked the door. Outside the room stood another nurse, this one carrying a bundle of pillows and sheets in her arms. "Oh. You're…"
"I…I have to change the bed sheets…?" She had to be at least forty, but she looked as though she was terrified by the prospect.
She's scared of Erik too…but she seems nice enough. "Here, I'll get those for you," she told her, taking the bundle out of her arms. The woman nodded, smiling gratefully, and hurriedly moved along to the next room.
Christine locked the door behind her, setting the sheets down in the corner. She went back over to the bed and got back under the covers, snuggling up to Erik again. He trembled, and Christine suddenly realised that Erik was awake. "Erik?"
"Christine…" He spoke through gritted teeth, tears trickling down his cheeks. "Is she gone?"
"Yeah, she's gone…Erik, what's wrong?"
"Christine…"
She pulled the sheets back from his face, putting a hand to his forehead. "You're burning up…"
"Christine…it hurts…so much…"
"Oh, sweetie…" She hugged him close to her. "Where does it hurt?"
"Everywhere…everything's aching…"
"Erik…" Christine kissed him lovingly. "Is there anything I can do?"
"I just…want to sleep."
"Okay." She wrapped the covers back around the two of them, then paused. "Do…you want me to stay here?"
"It's…going to get worse…" He shuddered. "You won't be able to stay for long. But…will you stay with me…a few more hours?"
"Of course I will. As long as you want." Christine brushed the tears from Erik's face, holding him close to her. "I love you, Erik. If you want me to do anything…"
"Just hold me…"
Erik woke at noon in a cold sweat, panicking. Christine?
There she was, lying beside him. Of course…of course she's still here. She wouldn't leave me…Oh, God, this hurts so much… His whole body ached, the pain seeming to radiate outwards from the very centre of his bones. I wish the tremors go away soon…the shivering's only making the pain worse. Except…it wasn't just shaking anymore. His arms and legs were beginning to twitch. I can't stop moving…I don't want to wake Christine up… He moved slightly away from Christine, trying not to disturb her, but that in itself was torturous. She's so warm…why am I so cold? Well, I suppose I'm always cold…but why can I feel it? Erik groaned, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. I'm a mess…my shirt's sticking to me…ugh, everything's so sticky… His leg kicked out suddenly, catching Christine, who carried on sleeping unfazed. Oh, Christine…I'm so sorry…you shouldn't be here…
He shook Christine's shoulder gently. "Christine?"
"Mm?" She opened her eyes. "Erik? Are you all right?"
He gave her a weak smile. "I'm fine. You should go, I don't want to hurt - "
"You're freezing, Erik…"
"I know. But you have to - "
She stroked his face. "You're soaking…"
"I know that! Please, just go, before I hurt you."
Christine was puzzled. "Hurt me? What…what do you mean - "
"I just kicked you. And I'll most likely do it again, if you stay here." He sighed. "Could you just sit over there for me, out of my way?"
Christine opened her mouth to argue, but decided against it. He seems a little short with me…I don't want to make him any angrier than I have to. Reluctantly, she got out of bed, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Okay. Why don't you take a shower? I'll change your sheets. Get you something to eat, maybe, or…"
"I'm not hungry."
"Erik, you have to eat something…"
"I'm not hungry." He sighed again. "But I'll take a shower."
Christine smiled, glad that Erik was at least doing something she'd asked him, but a little worried that he didn't want to eat. Oh, well…I'm sure he'll eat something later.
Christine sat back in her chair, staring at the crumpled pile of sheets lying in the corner of the room, waiting for Erik to get dressed. A few snacks that she'd got from the hospital café – a sandwich, some pretzels, a few apples – lay on Erik's bedside table; she hoped she would be able to convince him to eat something. The diamond in her ring shimmered in the light. What will I do? How can I say 'no' to Erik? Tears started to form in her eyes, and she blinked them back quickly. No. I can't let him see me cry.
The bathroom door squeaked open, and Christine looked up with a smile, hoping Erik wouldn't notice she had been upset. But her smile quickly faded. "Erik?"
He was standing in the doorway, looking very much as if he was about to collapse. He held one hand to his forehead, trembling all over, seemingly dead on his feet. Christine rushed to his side, putting a supporting arm around him. "Oh, Erik…"
Weakly, he tried to shrug off her arm. "I'm fine…just leave me…"
"Please, Erik?" She led him back to bed; he didn't try to stop her. "Try eating something, maybe? For your strength?"
"I'm…not hungry…"
"Please? Please try."
"No! Christine, just leave me!"
She lowered her head. "I'm sorry. I just…I'm sorry…" She sat down slowly on the edge of the bed.
Christine…oh, don't do this to me… Erik gave a groan. She's just too hard to say 'no' to… "Fine, give me the apple."
Christine grinned, passing an apple to him. Thank goodness… "I just want you to try it…I know you're not feeling well…"
"Really, Christine? No, I'm not well…"
"Please don't yell."
"I'm not yelling." Erik grimaced, looking at the apple as if it was the most disgusting thing he had ever seen, then took a tiny bite. He shuddered as he swallowed it. This is awful. It was only the delighted look on Christine's face that convinced him to take another bite.
Christine stroked Erik's arm, waiting patiently until he eventually finished the apple. I hate having to pressure him, but… "Could you eat something else? It would make me feel better if you did…"
"Why do you care so much, Christine?"
"Because I want you to get better. So you have to eat." She reached for the sandwich, passing it over to him. "It's going to be okay, Erik. You just have to help me help you get better."
Erik clenched his fists, fighting back tremors. "Just leave me to eat, please…"
Christine sat back down in the chair, out of his way.
It took an eternity for him to eat the sandwich. He had to stop every few bites, occasionally looking to Christine, who would smile approvingly at him. Christine didn't completely understand why it was so difficult for him. I can hear his stomach rumbling. He can't be full…why is he having to force himself to eat? She realised she knew practically nothing about morphine withdrawal, other than it was making Erik miserable. And irritable. I wish I knew how to help him.
Erik finished eating, lying back in the bed with his eyes half closed. He looks exhausted… Christine moved the chair closer to his bedside, gently holding a hand to his head. His skin was hot and sticky, and she could feel the veins throbbing in his forehead. His hair was damp; at first she thought it was simply water from his shower, but she soon realised it was soaked with sweat. Poor Erik… She took his hands in hers, stroking them gently, trying to stop them from shaking.
He lay there for hours, until the sun began to set. His breathing was heavy, and apart from the twitching of his arms and legs, he was completely still, as if moving was simply too difficult for him. His eyes were closed a lot of the time, but Christine was almost certain that he was struggling to sleep properly. Is withdrawal always this severe? She couldn't tell. Perhaps it's just Erik. He looks as though he gets sick more easily…maybe it just affects him more than others.
Christine couldn't help but feel completely useless. She had no idea how she was supposed to help Erik. All I can do is sit with him…that's all he said he wanted me to do for him. So I guess…I just stay with him and hold his hand. She used her time sitting beside him to think. Could I really marry Erik? I mean, life with him now is great…most of the time, anyway. And it'll get a lot better once he's well again. He needs me with him, to look after him. I care about him: I want to stay with him, to help him. But…could I actually marry him? She looked over to Erik. Had he always looked so old? Had he always looked so…insane?
Something felt wrong about it all, the way Erik made her feel. It scared her to think about what he had done to her; on some level, she supposed she was even a little afraid of him, even though she knew in her heart Erik would never hurt what frightened her more was the thought of not being with him, of not being there to look after him. I don't want to leave him. If I stayed with him, does that mean I'd have to marry him someday? I mean, we couldn't just live together for the rest of our lives without being married…that wouldn't be right. And I don't suppose it would be fair to Erik.
For a moment, she considered what it would be like to be Erik's wife. Would it be so awful to be married to him? He's a good man. But it would mean…I'd have to… Christine paused, looking back to Erik, a strange knot forming in the pit of her stomach. I'd have to make love with him. I'd have to have his children…And, I do want children, but…do I want them with Erik? She couldn't help but think about her own father, and of how much he had done for her in her life. He's always been there for me, no matter what's happened. I remember when we used to go and fly kites in the park, or feed the ducks. When I was scared at night, he'd sing to me after I had a nightmare, and…and… Christine smiled, tears coming to her eyes. And he had that special song he'd play for me on the violin that kept the monsters out of my room. And I remember those stories he used to tell me, about Little Lotte, and the goblins, and the North…
Erik shuddered suddenly, and Christine began stroking his hands again, noting as she did that his hands had become as hot and sticky as his forehead. But something else also caught her eye. That ring…what it represents…That story Erik told me; it was so beautiful. And all the little things he does for me: letting me call Daddy, trusting me enough to show me his face, all the times he's held me and comforted me when I cried. He…he's a good man. Maybe…he could be a good father, a good husband…he's such a lovely man. He just…he just needs to be loved.
So…is that it? Have I made up my mind, then? Christine was still unsure. I'm going to have to think about it a little longer.
Erik shuddered again, his eyes opening abruptly. He wrenched his hands free from Christine's, covering his mouth with them, and before she could stop him, he got to his feet and hurried to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. "Erik?" Christine got up quickly and tried the door, but he had already locked it. "Erik!"
She heard him coughing, retching. "Erik, please…"
"Christine, for the love of God, leave me alone…" He tried yelling, but it came out as a croak.
"Erik, let me in…"
"Go home! Christine, just…" He broke off, and she heard him vomiting again. "Please, just go," he sobbed.
"Erik…" She was crying with him, trying the door-handle again in case she found a way to get inside. "I…let me help you…"
"Go home…please…"
"I…" She stopped. Erik sounded so broken. And Christine didn't have the heart to argue with him anymore. She settled back down in her chair. I guess I'll just wait here until he comes out. He might need me to get him something to drink, maybe.
Christine sighed. She could tell it was going to be a very long night.
The IV needle was back in Erik's hand the next morning. It stayed there for the next eight days, as Erik lay in the hospital room, Christine barely leaving his side.
Most of the time he spent curled up in bed, his legs tucked up against his chest. The tremors were present almost every hour, whilst every part of his body was in agony. What was worse, his clothes and the bed-sheets would often become completely soaked in his sweat, sticking to him all over. I must look absolutely disgusting…more so than usual.
The rest of the time he spent in the bathroom, several hours every day. He made Christine stay outside; he couldn't bear any more humiliation. Besides…it wasn't just vomiting.
Christine found plenty of time just to sit and think. She tried not to think too much about her father, or about her friends, or her old life in general. Instead, she tried to think about the future.
Eventually, after Erik had just about lost his will to live, he began to get better. He started eating again, albeit rather begrudgingly, doing it mostly because Christine wanted him to. He could hardly believe that she had stayed with him and supported him through almost two weeks of illness. She is the most incredible girl in the world. Which, I suppose, I knew already, but still…this proves it beyond a doubt. My dear Christine…I never want to let her go.
"It isn't going to be easy, you realise."
Christine looked up from packing her rucksack. "Hmm?"
"This isn't over yet," Erik said softly. "The…addiction. I…" He lowered his head, staring at his shoes. "I still need your help."
She paused for a moment in her packing, thinking. "I know that. But…I'll be there for you, for as long as it takes."
Erik folded up the last of his shirts, smiling sadly. "I…I imagine I'll never get over it completely. It's…difficult. It always has been."
Christine nodded, the knot in her stomach returning. Never? He'll need me to help him with this…for the rest of his life? Then how…how could I ever leave him, even if I wanted to? "Erik?"
"Mm-hm?" He secured the catch on his suitcase: his hands were now almost completely steady.
Christine took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I've been thinking about…marrying you."
Erik turned to her, his eyes wide. Has she…I mean, will she… He tried to say something, but words seemed to evade him. His eyes flickered to the ring on Christine's finger, then back to her face trying to read her expression. He could only stare at her, his hands hopelessly gesturing for her to continue.
Christine simply nodded in reply.
"Oh, Christine…" His voice was soft, barely audible. She…she said 'yes'? Christine…said 'yes'… "Christine!" He rushed towards her, holding her close to him. "Oh, my rose…" His voice was light, full of laughter. "My darling Christine!" She's mine! She wants to be mine! Somewhere inside him, Erik found new strength, and held her even more tightly, kissing her fiercely. Christine was weeping as she kissed him back, her arms wrapping around him in a caring embrace. The reality of her decision was still sinking in.
Bags packed, Erik and Christine left the hospital ward arm-in-arm. "It'll be good to get back home," Christine said, turning to Erik with a smile.
"It will. Is the Phantom parked outside?
"Mm-hm."
"You have the keys?"
"Of course." She fished around in her pocket. "Do you…want me to drive? I mean, do you feel up to driving again?"
"Definitely. I've missed that car. I only hope she hasn't forgotten me."
Christine raised an eyebrow. "'She'?"
Erik grinned. "Well, it's ma voiture, isn't it?"
"I suppose so."
They continued down the corridor for a few more moments, before Christine spoke, turning back to Erik with a grin. "So does she have a name, ta voiture?"
He smiled. "Of course."
"Which is…?"
Erik paused, as if seriously considering her question. "Ayesha."
Christine laughed, and Erik held her arm more firmly, unwilling to ever let her go. We've come so far together…
A few nurses were standing around the reception area downstairs. Christine noted that they seemed to become suddenly quiet when she and Erik were passing them. That's nice of them. Not even a 'goodbye' for Erik? I would've thought they'd be glad to get rid of him…and me too, I suppose. She managed to catch the eyes of them all, and saw each one of them quickly look away.
Christine felt anger building up inside her. Right, that's it… She walked Erik outside to the car, before rummaging in her jacket pocket, pretending to search for something. "Erik, do you want to wait here a second? I…I might have left my purse inside."
"Fine. I'll get Ayesha warmed up."
"Great. I'll be back in a minute."
Christine strode back through the doors of the hospital, a determined air about her. The little group of nurses was still gathered at the reception desk, still talking amongst themselves.
"…I don't know, I think it was just opiates."
"But that doesn't mean he's not tried anything else. 'Cause, you know, I heard of this guy once who lost the whole middle of his nose taking cocaine."
"Yeah, maybe. Did you see her?"
"I know. It's gross, isn't it?"
"I mean, why would she…"
"I know. I think that Rolls parked outside is his. You think he pays her to…you know?"
Christine cleared her throat. They turned to look at her, a few of them smiling nervously. "We…we were just…"
"I know what you were doing," Christine snapped. "You've been treating Isaac like a monster for two weeks. You've shown him absolutely no respect, and you've been nothing but judgemental towards the two of us."
One of the nurses averted her eyes, staring at a stain on the floor. Another looked nervously towards the door, as if desperate to leave. Miss Linden behind the desk sat up in her seat, her mouth wide open.
"Do you not understand that he's sick? And yet you still make fun of him? Even he's done absolutely nothing to hurt any of you?" Christine paused, watching each of them become more and more uncomfortable. I hope they get the message now. "Have you any idea what he has to go through every do of his life because of people like you? Just think about that."
She turned to leave again, making her way back outside, then stopped, turning to them again. "And, for the record, no, he doesn't pay me to love him."
The door slammed behind her. There was a hushed silence in the reception area, before one of the nurses broke the silence. "You are in so much trouble."
"Me? Why am I in trouble? It was you who called her a prostitute…"
"Yeah, well, I'm not getting fired if she files a complaint."
Miss Linden continued to stare open-mouthed into space. "Didn't you see her?"
The others turned to her, a confused look about them. "What are you talking about?"
"She's been here for a fortnight," she whispered, shaking her head slowly. "I can't believe I didn't…I didn't see it before."
Another girl approached the desk. "What is it? What didn't you see?"
She shook her head again, passing an open magazine across her desk to them. "I didn't see it until she…until she was right in front of me."
A news report complete with Christine's photograph stared up at them from Lindy's magazine.
So…what did you think? Good? Bad? Somewhere in the middle?
Tina95: Yes, Erik's okay! He's also extremely happy now!
KittyPimms: I did have a great holiday, thanks! Paris was so pretty…
Princess-of-Your-Doom95: I know, I couldn't be bothered with Raoul in this one. He's too…foppish.
Kali Rose: My gosh, that would make for a great episode! It's true, he doesn't have many friends…
Abby: Thank you! I've always loved Leroux's novel, even more so than the musical, in fact. Erik's much more of a tragic character in the novel.
TheBlackSister: Thanks! Paris was great, perhaps a little too hot on a few days. Then again, this is coming from someone from Scotland…
principia: I'm sorry. I hope you prefer this chapter. Hopefully, it's better than that one…
NellieTodd: Yeah…I promise, I'm not going to stop writing this once till it's finished, but it may take a while, what with school and all…
Enna17654: Stephen King is a seriously brilliant author! I just figured that he's Erik's type of writer, very dark…
emeraldphan: Thanks for all of your advice and support! See, I told you I'd update soon-ish! Hope you enjoyed the chapter after all that!
GracefulWolvesInTheNight: (Very pretty name, by the way…) Ah, chapter 3…I remember that was one of my favourite chapters to write! Glad you liked it!
ericksangelofmusic: Thanks!
StrawberryStoleYourCookie: Well, what did you think of Christine's new look? And, as for her dad…you'll just have to wait and see!
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