Tiochfaidh ár Lá

Disclaimer: Don't own POTO… This story is rated M for subject matter not because it's really explicit.

A/N: Welcome back, me, I suppose. For a while there I actually thought I'd lost all of the writing I'd ever done because of this stupid computer… and it took me a while to get it all back and update the backups. Anyway, for those whom it may concern, I'll reply to all the emails tomorrow and I wish you all the best for all the messages I found in my inbox this morning… you all made my day. Anyway, I thought I'd fit in this update while I got the chance. And to Ripper, Mimi, and Heather… I missed talking to you all and I'm glad to be back. I know… I should update more. Happy reading…

And please leave a review…

Chapter 13: A New Perspective…

She'd been going to his house everyday for the past two weeks, since he'd suggested it. She hadn't said a word of it to anyone – she hadn't even told Raoul that she wouldn't be at school, and while she knew he would miss her, she didn't think he would do anything to try to see her after the way she'd treated him.

So, out of their new arrangement, Christine had gotten into the habit of leaving her aunt's house earlier than usual until she was finding herself being picked up by Mr. Wilkes at the very early time of a quarter to seven each morning. He had insisted she eat breakfast with him, and she had been glad of that – though he'd said it was only to make sure that she was eating properly, he actually just wanted her there for as long as he could get away with each day. And so far, no one had even come close to threatening the sanctuary she found with him. There had been no questions, no phone calls to her guardians, no letters, no enquiries at all… everyone just took it as fact that she had decided to take some time away from everything – and rightly so too.

Erik, meanwhile, had never dreamed that teaching could be like this… that it could feel so wonderful to have just one conscientious, sweet-hearted and bright young student to teach in his own home on a schedule that they were both comfortable with. He also could never have dreamed of the joy having lunch with her brought – or watching her read in his study while she was having a break away from the work… or even putting her to bed for a short time in the afternoon before she went home, where she could rest in peace. She was completely free from the distraction of others… and he felt good in himself that he alone had been able to provide that for her.

This particular Friday morning, as he stopped at the kerb towards the end of her street – the place they'd agreed he would pick her up each morning so that her guardians would not see her getting into his car, he found her acting even more unusually than normal. Looking in his rear-view mirror briefly to locate her there on the pavement, walking along absentmindedly, he got out of the car to help her in and was surprised to find that she jumped when she saw him and dropped her things all over the ground. Frowning slightly, he dropped to a crouched position before her and started collecting the papers and other things up, surprised to find that she suddenly snatched them away from him and placed them in her bag herself.

"Is everything alright this morning, Christine?" he asked, backing off so that she could finish it herself. She seemed embarrassed to have been so clumsy in front of him and he didn't want to make her feel worse, so he would give her space.

She nodded stiffly and stood up, awkwardly letting him help her into her side, even turning her head from him slightly as he helped her with her seatbelt, though he'd been doing that everyday. For some reason, today it seemed too intimate.

"Has someone said something to upset you?" he tried again as he got into the driver's seat and started towards his house.

She shook her head and slumped ungracefully in the seat, hugging her bag to her chest defensively. "I haven't spoken to anyone since yesterday evening… I'm just tired – I did not sleep well last night," she admitted, twisting her hands in the material of the bag.

He nodded sadly and took his hand off of the gear stick momentarily to squeeze her shoulder. "Perhaps you should sleep a while when we get home, then… your lessons can wait a couple of hours."

"If you're sure," she murmured distractedly.

And he was. Never would he put anything – even studying – before her health and happiness. Truly, she looked haggard, he thought, as though she really had been having a time of it trying to do something as simple as rest herself, which he found strange as she always seemed able to do so in the afternoons at his house. Now he wondered if she slept then because she was not managing to do so at her aunt's house – he'd never thought of that before… he didn't realise that it was because she was so tired from lack of sleep that he often found her dozing in his lounge and had to put her to bed for a couple of hours. He was more worried than ever now… if all she was getting for a night's sleep was a couple of hours at his house then she was going to make herself sick.

Bringing the car to a stop in his driveway, he helped Christine out as she yawned and, in her fatigue, relinquished her bag over to him for him to carry. He pointed to the front door as he closed the car door behind her and gestured that she go in ahead of him as he made to go to the boot of the car for something. "Go straight to bed," he commanded sternly. "I'll be in shortly and I want to be able to come up those stairs to the bedroom in darkness and find Christine Daaé asleep in the bed. Will you do that for me?"

"But I don't have a key…" she said, gesturing helplessly to the door she imagined was locked several metres ahead of her.

"Oh…" He hadn't thought of that… but now that it came to it, it brought up something else that he thought might be a good idea to do. "Here," he said as he handed her his house keys.

"Thank you." Going ahead of him, slightly hesitant to just go into his house on her own though she didn't know why, she opened the door and took her first step inside. It was strange… usually, when he went in before her, she felt nothing out of the ordinary… But this time, she looked around the dark entrance of his home, standing still, staring up the stairs… and everything seemed different to her. Perhaps it was the way she had been feeling this last little while… she felt kind of out of sorts what with the stress of her situation and knowing she still had to pass exams when it came to it. She felt pressured to go back to the school before she was ready so that there was no chance of Mr. Wilkes getting in trouble over her – not that he would even allow her to think for a second that it was her responsibility, providing he knew. But she was keeping a lot of things to herself at the minute, it would seem…

Regardless, looking up the stairs, Christine felt like the place seemed more… homey, than usual. Yes, it was dark, and while the antique banister leading steeply up to more darkness would not seem inviting to most, she was starting to see it in more of a welcoming light. While this place had been her substitute school for just two weeks and her saviour's home alone before that – the place where he'd brought her for just one night when she'd been inconsolable… and the place where he now brought her to both learn and to escape… While it was all of these things… it was also home, she found. And though he'd been telling her that for ages, it had only just now suddenly clicked in her own mind. She did not know why.

"I thought I told you to go to bed," Erik murmured, placing a hand upon her shoulder as he came in the door behind her and put all of the bags on the floor to his side.

"I was just thinking…"

"Is something on your mind, Christine?" he asked, wishing she would tell him. "Because I want you to know that you can tell me anything… even if it's just something small that is in the back of your mind and you want to talk to someone, or if it's something bigger that you're worried about and don't know what to do. I am here to listen to anything you'd care to tell me, my dear… you can come to me anytime – for anything."

It was more than kind of him to open himself to her like that, but she couldn't deal with that just yet and she gave a vague nod that he couldn't really see from behind her, merely watching as she started her way up the stairs to his bedroom.

Making a snap decision, he followed her and pushed open the door that she'd shut over, unconsciously glad that she'd just gone up by herself instead of having to be led and assured continuously that it was alright for her to take advantage of his hospitality. But at the same time, there was a niggling little feeling in the back of his mind that there was something big bothering her that she was either not willing or unable to tell him – and that worried him immensely.

Kicking off her shoes, she stared at him curiously as he sat down on the bed beside her, and was just about to say something when he pursed his lips thoughtfully and turned to look at her, taking her hand in his. "When I was your age," he started, stroking his thumb across the back of her hand, "there were these girls in my class… I forget their names – for the sake of the story, we shall call them Witless and Oats-for-Brains." He paused a moment, smiling as he had made his Christine laugh, and tried to get over how sweet she was just to have the concentration to continue.

"Well, neither liked me very much – nobody in actual fact liked me very much – but these two had it in for me for some reason, though I'd never done anything to them. One day, Oats-for-Brains was rather annoyed at me for having garnered more attention from our Chemistry teacher because I had gotten full marks in a test, or something trivial like that. She liked him, you see – obviously, it was a fleeting fancy, but she decided to get back at me for it, regardless. Looking back, it's funny that I didn't see it coming…" he laughed, though not whole-heartedly, in a sadly reminiscent way. "Witless was used to distract me – she eventually convinced me that she wanted to learn how to sing, gullible fool that I was. I would have listened to anyone, Christine, who showed me a bit of compassion," he said sadly, seeing that she understood him from the clarity with which she was looking into his eyes. "Unlike you, she showed it falsely to get something in return and I was mortified one day to find that as I got lost in my music, showing Witless what it was like to freely express myself in my song, Oats-for-Brains had gathered a group around me. And right as I opened my eyes and became aware of them, she snatched my mask away. I felt such shame…"

She looked at him sympathetically, unable to say that she really understood what he was trying to tell her, and tried not to sound too harsh as she asked him. "Why are you telling me this?"

Smiling sorrowfully, he turned to face her fully, bringing her other hand together with the one he already held. "Because I want to confide in you and I know I can trust you. I want you to feel the same way about me…"

"I'm sorry…" she murmured, trying to stop her bottom lip from quivering. "Trust is not a concept I'm good with at the minute."

"All I'm saying, my dear girl, is that – when Oats-for-Brains did that to me… when I cried that night, nobody was there to listen. But, with you – with you it is so much different – when you cry, I listen. I hear it here," he said sincerely, placing their collective hands over his heart.

"Do you hear it now?" she asked tentatively, moved beyond saying by what he'd told her willingly. He looked at her as though he didn't understand and she smiled softly. "I guess not… but I feel as though I'm crying on the inside."

As she started to sob in actuality, he pulled her against himself and hugged her, letting her cry. "I heard it, Christine… I heard it though I didn't know what it was. I knew you were in pain. I want you to talk to me about these things."

She could not find it within herself to have the courage to tell him of the shame she felt as he had told her – the wound was simply too fresh – and instead he found her slowly drifting off in his arms, exhausted further from her grief.

He didn't wake her until early evening that day, preferring she catch up on her sleep and be refreshed for the next day than have done the work but have taken none of it in because of her fatigue. It wouldn't be long before she had to go back home again and he wanted her to eat first, so he roused her gently from her slumber, marvelling at the precious blue eyes that stared up at him.

"Is it time for our morning lessons now?" she asked innocently, and he wanted to be able to tell her that it was, if only to spend more time with her… but he could not.

"No… no, sweetheart, it's time for you to eat before I take you back."

"But…"

"Shh… don't be upset. I did what was best for you… you were exhausted and I thought sleep would do you more good than work."

"But I have exams," she said helplessly, though that was not what was bothering her at all… in actual fact, she was disappointed that the only time she'd been able to spend with him had been in the car on the way over.

"And we'll get through them together," he reassured. "Your health is more important…"

Nodding, she lowered her head and closed her eyes. "I just thought I'd have more time before I'd have to go back there… alone."

When she had worked up enough energy, she let him help her sit up and then, as she slid off the bed, something pointed jabbed her in the leg and she yelped slightly, more out of surprise than actual physical pain. Standing up, she realised she'd sat on his keys, obviously having forgotten to give them back to him. Her little squeal, needless to say, had somewhat startled him and, having assured him she was alright, she tried to hand him back the keys, finding instead that he pushed them back towards her.

"I want you to have those. I have others… I want you to have a way to get in here if you ever need it, regardless of where I am."

"I wouldn't feel right just walking in like I owned the place… I can't do that," she said, overwhelmed that he would offer her such a thing. It meant a lot to her that he trusted her enough to want her to be able to enter his house even when he was not there. And though she knew that she didn't exactly seem the type to steal, she was happy anyway that he hadn't for a moment thought that of her.

"Take them. Should the need ever arise, they will always be there. Should it never arise," he said gently, "at least you will have given me peace of mind."

She nodded gratefully and looked down at them, finally placing them inside her pocket. "I suppose I'd better hurry up… it won't be long until I have to go," she said disappointedly.

Equally disappointed, Erik nodded solemnly and squeezed her shoulder to try to comfort them both. "I'm sorry, Christine – I would far rather you were able to stay longer so we could spend some time together… but I have to get you home so that your guardians will not suspect."

"They rarely check on me," Christine offered, looking up at him nervously, though she had no idea why she was telling him that. "Sometimes, what with eating in my room and leaving before they get up, I don't see any of them for days at a time…"

"Really?" he asked, and while he was upset that she spent so much time isolated, he couldn't help but think that she was probably benefiting from their absence. Still, he knew he would have to do something about the absence of other people's influences from her life… "Would you like to spend the night, Christine?" My God, what am I even asking her?

"Stay?" she questioned, surprised, though, somewhere in her mind she wondered if she had been hoping he would say that all along. After all, hadn't she been the one to supply the information that she would unlikely be missed. "You'd allow me to stay here overnight?"

He nodded and smiled at the awe with which she seemed to observe all of his kindness towards her. She was an amusing little enigma, he found – he would never have even suggested she stay overnight if she hadn't told him what she just had and here she was, surprised about it. He found her delightful. "Why do you find that so incredible?"

"Won't I be intruding?"

"Intruding upon what?" he asked, looking around the otherwise empty room for emphasis. "Upon my night alone… having a sparse meal for one… preparing some things for your impending arrival on Monday morning, which is so long away, might I add… looking forward to the moment I can teach you again? If you think you would be intruding upon all that then I am quite willing to correct you…"

"I'd like to stay, Erik," she said softly, surprising him. How he liked it when she called him that, though usually only ever of her own choice and not when he'd asked her to, he noticed. She was defiant in her own way, his darling girl. It intrigued him. "But tomorrow's Saturday…" she said after a while, seemingly having forgotten.

"Don't worry… I'll have you back before they're up."

"Thank you," she said. And while she didn't feel particularly comfortable with it, she still felt she had to show her gratitude, and she leaned into him, giving him a stiff and awkward sort of hug. But considering that the only hugs he had ever received were from Christine, Erik wasn't too worried – he was too busy savouring her conscious decision to hug him – to touch him.

Later that night, Erik again stood in his bedroom with Christine, having lain out a nightdress and dressing gown for her to use overnight. And yet, as she looked at them, she hesitated a moment and wrung her hands in front of her, seeming not to notice, and he became confused.

"Do you require something I have not provided you with?" he asked, unsure of himself as she stared back at him. Was there perhaps something embarrassing, but necessary, that he did not know of and had not given her? Was she too mortified to tell him of his failure? How could he have ever have thought that he could provide for her?

"It's just that… I'm not sleepy since I slept the day away."

"Oh." He felt himself take in a breath that he'd been delaying, just knowing that he'd forgotten something, and he relaxed a bit momentarily because she simply was not tired. Having expected her to still need to catch up on her sleep, though, he was a bit surprised to find that she didn't quite need to yet, and he felt at a loss for how to entertain her until she did. "Well, in that case, you are welcome to stay up… what would you like to do?"

"No, I couldn't… you go to bed – you must be tired."

"Not in the slightest…" There was no way in the world that he'd ever pass up on a chance to spend time with her, certainly not for sleep. "Tell me what you do at night when you can't sleep," he suggested and then tried to take it back as he saw the look on her face turn to one of sorrow. "No, forget that. Tell me what we could do this night – just us… anything that you want."

"You're going to think I sound childish…"

He looked at her, standing there, wringing the front of her clothes nervously, and looking at him with such eagerness that he could not imagine a second in her life when she did not seem childlike. "Not at all… I will do my best to make what you want happen."

"When Daddy was alive, we used to watch scary films late at night, with no lights on, the curtains shut, huddled together on the sofa under a pile of blankets…"

"Then that's what we'll do," he said, smiling at the thought of her under his arm, clinging to him when she got a fright. That only strengthened his resolve and he got excited about spending this time with her, without having the pretence of work or something else lingering over them both. "I'll be waiting for you downstairs when you are ready," he said eagerly and left her to get changed.

When Christine joined him, sitting on the sofa next to him as she curled her feet up under herself and wrapped the blanket over her shoulders, Erik at last felt as though he was getting somewhere with her. Slowly, yes, but at least they had gotten past the point where she was disgusted even seeing him. And while he did not like her denying to herself that he had expressed his love for her, he was willing to let it go for her sake, if just for the moment.

It took a while for her to relax, but he found that, halfway into the film they had decided to watch, she repositioned herself closer to him and leaned against him, not objecting to him placing his blanket over both of them. He watched her more than the film and he very much liked as she gathered herself under his arm and leaned on his chest. He wished every night could be like this one.

"When would you like me to take you back in the morning?" he asked softly when the film was finished, afraid of destroying the atmosphere.

"They don't usually get up till late on a Saturday…" Christine murmured against his chest. And then sat up abruptly and he felt a great loss inside himself. She looked at him shyly and stumbled over her own words as she tried to ask him to do something for her. "Could you… do you think you could…"

"What is it, Christine? Please tell me."

She took a deep breath and said it as fast as she could in the hopes that he would just agree and not make a big deal out of it. "Do you think you could take me somewhere first?"

He smiled at her shyness fondly and nodded. "Of course," he answered, relieved that that was all it was – she was just hesitant to ask him to do something further for her. "Where would you like to go, my dear?" he asked as he helped her up off the sofa, smiling as she yawned, and led her to the bottom of the stairs.

She turned back around to face him, standing on the step above him. "Just down town… I'd like to go to a shop before I go home and I have no other way of getting there except walking, which would take me too long…"

"I'd be glad to take you."

There was no doubting his sincerity and she was ever glad that he was so willing to do these little things for her. "You're a very good man," she said at last, the sentence carrying perhaps too much weight for the context it was in. "If Witless could see you as I do… she would have distracted you not with the intention of hurting you – but with the intention of winning your favour honestly and perpetually." And she left him there on the bottom stair, staring helplessly up at her as she disappeared into his bedroom, the door swinging over behind her.

© Copyright of CrawfordsBiscuits, November 2006

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