I finally got this one out. Thank you for your patience. The good news is that the next chapter is half written. The bad news - Well, that'd be a spoiler, wouldn't it? But I'm pretty excited about the third and final part to this story. It has all the good kinds of angst ;)

A big thanks to Kelly for looking the chapter over and helping me get unstuck.

Read and Review!

"My wedding gift is a song?" she asked. She should have expected that.

"I did write a song, and you will sing it. But that is not all. I do not want you to know the entirety of it yet."

"Why?"

"I simply…Not now. I want you to focus on your voice."

She reluctantly let the issue go and warmed up. To some extent, music did put everything in its proper place. The rich echo of the piano created a little cave of song. Christine relaxed her shoulders back, raised her head, and concentrated on her voice. The horrors of the previous days floated to the back of her mind, a nightmare from which she had partially awoken. The back of her subconscious still wanted to resist him, as it always had, but she tried to ignore it. What good would it do to make herself be miserable, to make herself hate him? That was a way to ensure that her future held nothing but unhappiness.

He allowed her to sing through her favorite golden oldies, as well as some classical pieces that they had practiced at the cottage. "Your voice has not suffered from disuse," he stated. "That is good. That I did not ruin it."

She looked up in surprise. "Ruin it?"

"Never mind," he murmured. Erik reached into a leather case that he had brought. "Here." He pulled out several pages of music. "It is a song I created for you weeks ago. My handwriting is rather unreadable, at least that is what the idiot Khan says. So I created a printout. Review it. Hum it. Then I will accompany you."

"And this is my gift?"

"A portion of it." Erik stood. "I do not have anywhere for you to sleep here. No beds, I mean. The couch is comfortable. But I can take you to a hotel, if you wish."

"The couch is fine." She didn't want to go running off to another hotel. Somehow, she felt safe down there. As though the rest of the world mattered less, and she could deal with her current situation without other people interfering and panicking. Erik disappeared for a second and then returned with a felt black blanket and a pillow. "Where will you sleep?" she asked.

"I am not tired. I may step out for a bit of air." Erik's voice was weary.

Her eyes widened. "What? You're leaving me down here?"

"You are safer here than out there."

"What if something happened to you? Would I die down here with no way to get out?"

Erik tilted his head and didn't answer. She sighed and sat down on the couch, not in the mood to argue. Nothing would happen to him. Erik suddenly dropped a phone on the cushion beside her. She started. "If I am not back in twenty-four hours, you may call," he said.

"Call who?"

"I think it is 9-1-1. I have never tried it myself, so they could be lying."

She laughed. "Thanks." She waited for a warning about calling too soon, about trying to escape. None came. Christine slowly lay down and stared at the ceiling. She heard Erik leave when the door clicked closed.

Was he still monitoring her somehow? Was this a trust test?

She fingered the edge of the phone for a second and then tossed it aside. What did it matter? She was done trying to escape. Christine closed her eyes and uneasily slept.

He had another phone that would ring if she used the one he had given her. It never rang that night. She did not try to flee from him. She kept her promise. She was a sweet and lovely girl.

He didn't know where he was going. He walked around the same blocks, down the same streets, past the same businesses and homeless people. The same hell it had always been. Now that he had Christine, the world seemed a little less wretched.

His own voice sounded in his head, and he could not be rid of it. He had threatened her, threatened to murder dozens of people in front of her, because of her. He had screamed at her, and now she was compliant.

He wanted more than that. He needed more than obedience. Recreating SCI had not helped. Music had to fix it. Music always fixed everything. He would give Christine this perfect wedding gift. Then she would love him. Then they would go away together and leave this city behind them.

She would forget what he had done to her…

A chill came over him.

Music had to fix everything. Music would make her love him.

He glanced up and saw weeds and an empty lot. A memorial plaque with gold engravings. The abandoned stadium. This was where Christine had wished to put the new parking garage so that their theater remained standing. Her request had been denied. Yet why? The building sat rotting, an eyesore and a reminder of mankind's atrocities. Usually, human beings preferred to quickly demolish all evidence of their massacres. Why leave this one up?

While the matter was on his mind, he broke into an office, found a desktop computer, and did some investigating. The ownership records were not very private or protected. While he was rarely one to be surprised, with the exception of Christine's beautiful proposal, he was startled to see that SCI owned the abandoned stadium. Why would SCI own this property? Expansion hopes? Very odd.

He left it alone for now. He and Christine were leaving this city. What did it matter if the theater were destroyed? They would find a new theater. A better theater with life and hope still flourishing within it.

Where she loved him.

He started to leave the computer and then hesitated. There was one more thing he wanted to investigate before he left. One last curiosity. Perhaps if he tracked the Giry woman...

A desire for someone to not see him as a freak.

Not tonight. It was too late.

But later. Just for a second. A moment.

Then he could return to Christine. And be her freak forever and ever.

After all, Christine had promised.

To let him be her freak forever.

Erik didn't wake her up when he returned. Early in the morning, Christine opened her eyes and saw him sitting on the sofa across from her. One hand was curled and gripping the armrest, and he was staring forward with a strange glint in his eyes. She started to sit up and saying something but then thought better of it. Maybe he needed time to himself.

She went back to sleep. When she awoke, he was no longer there. It was a little cold. Christine slowly stood and walked around the room with the blanket over her shoulders, looking over Erik's former home. She had the feeling that this place represented him better than the cottage. There was electronic equipment, computers, wires, speakers, keyboards, and devices she didn't recognize. There were stacks of compositions. Manuals to various devices. She could sense whom he had been before her, immersed in music, technology, and things that she probably didn't want to know about. "It's so quiet here," she murmured when he finally appeared. "Maybe the quietest place I've ever been."

"Perfect, isn't it?" he asked. He didn't seem angry now. "No one to bother us."

"What is all that stuff?" she asked, gesturing toward the electronics.

"Various hobbies," he replied. She eyed him. "Programming is an art in itself. As is hacking."

He had brought her a sesame seed bagel and a cup of coffee for breakfast. She thanked him and ate most of it. Then they were back to singing. "We are going to focus on three pieces," he stated. "Your favorite. A classical piece. And the one that I have written for you."

"Why will we focus on those?"

"So that you excel in them."

"I don't understand."

"You will very soon. I want you to focus on your singing and nothing else for several days. Not why we are doing this. Not the wedding. Not the rest of the vile world. Only your voice. If you do so, I think you will be very pleased with the results."

She continued to find her voice, along with the exhilaration that came with singing. Her head felt clearer when she finished. She felt hopeful. This is what she would always have with Erik. She remembered why, before the near disaster, she'd considered leaving with him in the first place. To experience this with him, the love of music, the need to continuously achieve more, to hear herself get better.

"That was successful," he stated when they were finished. "Now we simply need to find you something to wear."

"To wear? What are you going to do? Make me a YouTube sensation?" She was mostly joking.

"Something like that," he replied.

She swallowed nervously. "So you…other people are going to see me sing?" She fidgeted. "Is that safe?"

"I will make certain that it is. I want everyone to hear you and see you. You are now known as the kidnapped girl. People pity you. And that is my fault. You deserve to be known as much, much more. So I am fixing it."

"Then that's my gift? People hearing me sing?"

"Yes. But it will be more elaborate than that. You will shine, and everyone will appreciate you."

Christine didn't know what she thought of that. Overwhelmed, maybe. But she wouldn't stop it from happening. Wasn't it what she had always wanted? To sing for others?

They rehearsed the rest of the day, taking breaks occasionally so that she could eat or get some exercise. Erik showed her the rest of the theater, the crevices where he had hidden. She could see the stage from high up, near the lighting. The offices where management had worked. The basements filled with old props and costumes, some of which looked decades old. She sneezed often from the dust, and her hands felt dirty. Still – "I really missed this place. I'm glad we got to see it one last time. Before it's destroyed."

"It is a pity that we could not rescue it," said Erik. "But we are leaving, so what does it matter?"

"Yes," she sadly agreed.

Erik was kind to her all throughout that day. Outside of her voice lessons, he was fairly undemanding. He was…nearly nice. "I suppose you can sleep now," he said after the last lesson of the day. He stared slightly to the side of her, as though he were avoiding looking at her. "You will be ready soon, so we will not be here for too much longer. Then you can have a bed again."

"I'll be okay. Your couch is comfy." She started to lie down, watching him as he stacked some music together. His eyes looked troubled and distant, and she wondered what was on his mind now. Would he never be happy? "Erik, come sit beside me," she said, pushing herself upright again. She made room on the sofa.

He looked over his shoulder at her. "Why?"

"Let's…hang out and talk a little. I want to know more about you."

"You don't want to know more about me, I assure you."

She shook her head. "If we're going to be married, I want to know about you. Sit beside me." She gently bribed him, "We can hold hands."

He hesitated, sighed, and then stiffly did so. As soon as he was beside her, Christine took his hand. He shuddered. She gently stroked her thumb over his cold skin. Erik looked paralyzed.

"You said that you raised yourself," she began. "Did you mean that literally?"

"Yes."

"You didn't have a foster family or anything like that?"

"I wisely ran from any sign of social services."

"How did you survive? How did you eat?"

"Every day was a new adventure. Where to hide? How to feed myself? There were garbage bins, of course. And people would pay me for strange little favors. Eventually, I learned to steal wallets and break into cars. Soon, I was hired to do so. I had skinny hands, and I was quite fast. I could break into anything. Homes. Businesses." He paused. "I only had one close call. I made a bit too much noise while in someone's basement, stealing their television. An elderly man came down with a shotgun raised."

"Oh my God," Christine murmured. "What happened?"

"Isn't it obvious? He shot me in the face." Before Christine could freak out, Erik continued, "I am kidding. Just kidding, darling. The man lowered the gun and asked, 'What are you? Ten?' I ran away and was much more careful after that."

She listened without judgment, knowing that most of Erik's past was clouded with darkness. There was no normal when it came to Erik. "What about school?"

"I broke into libraries, too. And universities. There is nothing in school that cannot be learned by simply reading. I taught myself everything. And I think I was successful. Years ago, I used a falsified identification to take a college entrance exam. For the fun of it. To see how I would do."

"What'd you get?"

"A perfect score. But I knew university was no place for me. Dorms and fraternities and football games? I would sooner gouge at an eye."

"But you had such-"

"What? Potential?" he asked with bitterness. "I despise that word. Khan uses it all the time." Erik mocked Nadir. "'Ah, Erik. Why can't you have a normal career? You have such potential!' As though I could simply walk into some stuffy office building with a resume. As though that is even a possibility."

"But you wouldn't want to work in an office, would you?" she asked. "Even if…if everything were normal?"

"If everything were normal, I would not exist."

"Maybe not," she murmured. Now probably wasn't the right time for an existential conversation. "How'd you learn music?"

"When I was nine, I hid in a church, living in the back rooms and basement. Ironic, yes? For me to be in a church? It had an organ and a piano. I amused myself for hours and hours. Then, when I had more money, I purchased my own."

"Wow. You taught yourself everything." Next came the harder questions. "What did you do for money when you were older?"

"I became even more useful to many people."

"By doing what?"

He subtly leaned away from her. "What do you think, Christine? What could I do in this sort of world?"

She shifted on the cushions. "Illegal things." He didn't reply. "But you quit before meeting me, before coming down here?"

"I quit the worst of my activities, the ones that would chill your blood."

"Why'd you quit?" She tried to get him to meet her gaze, but he kept his eyes lowered.

Erik shrugged. "I was very tired. Of constantly running and being shot at. I wanted to rest for once in my life. I had enough skills to not need to do that any longer. And I…"

She squeezed his hand. "You what?"

"My employer introduced me to the pills. They made it much easier to work. They made me faster. They destroyed all fear. But I was also losing my mind."

"And so you just quit the pills and your…job?"

"Eventually…" There was an eeriness to his answer.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that it is not a simple thing to tell your employer you are finished doing what no one else can do for him."

Christine shifted. "What did he do?" she nearly whispered.

"I will not break your mind with that story. I won't. But, after it was over, I did not leave for another year."

Christine inwardly shuddered. Maybe Erik had been less intimidating back then. Or more easily intimidated by other people. Still, whatever his employer had done must have been horrible. To scare Erik, of all people, that much. "But at least you eventually got away," she said, her voice gaining strength. "You did it somehow. You got away."

"Yes. But what did it matter? I was nothing more than a theater-dwelling freak. A spider. Who caught you in his web."

She took a shaky breath and rested her cheek against his shoulder. "Erik…"

"Why are you doing this?" he asked. "I don't require you to know about me."

"That's what people tend to do when they're marrying. Get to know each other."

"So you feel obligated to know me? Because of your promise."

"Don't make everything seem so dark and ulterior. I want to know you. You're very interesting. Probably the most interesting person I've ever met. Definitely the most interesting person I've ever met."

"Only because everyone else is very dull," he replied. She laughed. "Except for you."

"I don't know about that." Before all of this had happened, she'd felt pretty boring.

"You are the loveliest, most interesting human being on earth. And we must find you a dress."

"For the wedding?" she softly asked.

"No. Your performance."

"Will it be live?"

"Not quite. Too risky."

"I thought you liked taking risks," she teased.

"Not if it means that a SWAT team interrupts your performance."

"I could sing I Fought the Law to make it all come together."

Erik turned his head so that his masked face was nearer to her hair. "I have been a terrible influence," he murmured. He might have meant to be joking. Considering the conversation, he should have been joking. But he sounded sincere and sad.

Hearing the pain in his voice, she didn't know what to say. The reassurance that he hadn't done any psychological harm to her was too much of a lie. She was still very upset about all he had put her through. She didn't want him to believe that everything was quite okay. She still wanted her apology.

Yet, in the coming months, when the pain really set in, she would wish that she had said something, offered a little comfort, anything. Anything but the silence that followed. Silence that confirmed to him – Yes, you have been a terrible influence. You've ruined my life. I hate you.

He stood up, and she released his hand. He disappeared for a while. She slept.

Alice knew that it was time to go home. She had done what she could, which wasn't much. She was tired, sad, and ready to leave.

At least Raoul was alive and no one else had died. There was initially panic when the government building and surrounding structures had all been evacuated, but no one had been hurt. It certainly hadn't helped Erik's case, but maybe nothing would at this point. Disgusted by most of what she had heard at the legislative meeting, Alice knew that none of the officials could be convinced. If Erik were ever to go back to SCI, it would have to be in secret. But how would that happen?

Maybe it didn't matter. Erik had taken Christine and was probably never coming back.

At the hotel, Corey and Gabby helped her pack. They were all quiet, discouraged, and exhausted. Nadir came by once. She could tell that he was distracted by something. "What will you do now?" she asked him.

"I don't know," Nadir replied, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Corey and Gabby had stepped out to put things in the car. Nadir paused and looked at her. "You…don't know anything about Hope Ivey, do you?"

Alice thought back. "No. Only that she was Erik's mentor. Then she disappeared and hasn't been much help. Why?"

"Nothing," said Nadir. "Just trying to put everything together."

"Where do you think they went?" Alice asked.

"Hope?"

"No," said Alice, still wondering why he was on edge. "Erik. And Christine."

"Oh. I don't know. There was a clue indicating that they might have gone to Atlanta. But it's probably one of Erik's tricks. It most definitely is." Alice shook her head. "There's little that can be done now. Thank you for trying to help."

"I wish I could have been more help."

"You did your best. All of us have."

"You're going to keep working on it?" Alice hopefully asked.

"If I can. I don't think I'll get a good night's sleep until I find them. Which means I'll probably never sleep again."

Nadir left soon after. Alice sensed that more was going on than he was telling her. She didn't pry, though. This was likely the end of her adventure.

Gabby asked her if there was anything else she'd like to do during her last night in the real world. Alice hesitated and then picked a last meal of fettuccine alfredo and tiramisu at a nearby Italian restaurant. After all, SCI had never mastered food. She enjoyed dinner, and they talked about everything but Erik.

"What should we tell Ken and Leigh? About why we were gone." Corey asked at one point. "That you had family issues?"

"That sounds good," Alice replied. "I'll say I had a death in the family. They don't need to know about all this. What good would it do? They've all been through enough." Even as she said it, though, there was something about the statement that bothered her. Was SCI supposed to shelter people from the harsher realities of life?

When they got back to the hotel, it was fairly late. Gabby parked. Once they were out of the vehicle, Corey wheeled Alice toward the sliding front doors. Cooler air swept against her face. The seasons were more pronounced here than in SCI, which had a climate closer to that of Southern California.

Alice looked up. She blinked and stared at the sidewalk corner near the entrance to the parking lot. At first, she thought that she was seeing a mechanical device that had two yellow lights on it. A tall device. The lights blinked every so often. Maybe an electrical structure? Her brain couldn't make sense of it.

But then…then she didn't think it was a mechanical device. Her heart beat a little faster in her chest. She swallowed and felt her throat tighten as the silhouette began to make more sense. Yet her first instinct wasn't to scream or panic. She said, "Could you give me a couple of minutes alone out here?"

Corey and Gabby abruptly glanced at her. "Are you okay?" asked Gabby.

"Yeah. I need a moment with my thoughts and some fresh air. It's all been a lot to take in, you know?" She hoped they couldn't hear the tremor in her voice.

"Sure," said Corey. "I get it. Uh, I guess I'll come back in twenty minutes?" He wheeled her toward a bench that was surrounded by some shrubs and yellow flowers, a hasty attempt at landscaping.

"That's good. Thank you." Gabby was still looking at her with some concern. "I'll be fine. Just need a moment."

They both left, only glancing back one time before going through the doors.

Alice didn't move. Somehow, she knew that it was him. She could only stare - curious and afraid. What the heck was he doing here? He didn't budge either. If she didn't take advantage of this eerie moment, she would regret it. Finally, with a deep breath, Alice called out, "You can come back! We'll help you. I promise we'll help you." She didn't want to say his name and risk his life. Yet if she could only make him listen…

The shadow heightened and stiffened. "You do not know anything," he stated, his voice sounding as though it were right next to her ear. Alice blinked in surprise. No words could describe it. If God himself had suddenly broken through the clouds and spoken down to her, Alice imagined that He might have a voice like that. "I belong here now. Not in that ridiculous false world. I belong with Christine."

Alice glanced down. "What...what exactly are you doing with her?"

"Doing with her? What exactly are you implying? I am making her happy! She is perfectly fine! We belong here together. We are marrying. She asked me to marry her."

Alice didn't know what to say about that. She didn't understand, but she suspected that Erik wasn't quite telling the truth. She could sense his instability, that all wasn't well with his mind. She gently offered again, "We'll help you. We'll find a way to get you back into SCI. Erik, you kidnapped a woman. Don't you understand how wrong that is? How messed up that is? But I can-"

"She is fine! And you are just like the rest of them, aren't you?!" Erik rasped. "You think of me as a freak. Out here, I am nothing but a freak to everyone."

Alice kept trying. "We can help you if you come back. SCI can make you feel okay again. Remember the fun we had? The hikes? We can finish watching Jurassic Park and eating lasagna. We can-"

"I will not go back there!" Erik hissed. Alice recoiled. "You belong there! I do not. Erik does not! So go back home, little Alice. You are too weak for this world. Look at you. I am not too weak. I can survive here. With her. So go home, Alice. Go home. Look at you! I could snap you in half with one hand. You do not know me. You know nothing!"

She took a breath, shaken by his cruelty. "You're right," she finally said. "I don't know you. Men like you are the reason I used to carry pepper spray. Maybe I don't want to know you."

"If you think pepper spray will have any sort of effect, then you do not know me. You are just like the rest of them. You think I am a freak. You don't want me to exist here."

"I've been here this whole time trying to help you," she replied. "Even after all you've done, I'm trying to help you."

"You cannot help me," snapped Erik, taking a step backward. His hands clenched and unclenched. His shadow nearly seemed to vibrate. "Go home, Alice. Go home now. This was a mistake. I...This was a grave mistake. And you had better not say anything to anyone about this conversation. Or there will be severe consequences! Do you understand me? You will regret it!" He disappeared in an instant, blending in with the shadows of the night. As though he'd never been there at all.

Against her better judgement, Alice never told anyone. She cried for about a minute and then quickly wiped the tears away. When Corey returned, she only said that she was ready for bed. She didn't say much to anyone the rest of the night.

Maybe she felt that it was all hopeless anyway. Even if she said something, the police would never find Erik. He was too cunning for them.

Or was she still holding onto some terribly misplaced loyalty to Erik, the Erik that Alice had once known? The nice Erik. The repaired Erik. She probably was.

Erik corrupted everything that he touched.

Was there any good in the real Erik?

I don't care. I'm done. I am so done.

In the morning, Alice went home, back to SCI, without a word.