Thank you all so much! *hugs you all*

You are all so precious, a thousand Erik roses to you all! You know what here all of you have an Erik or a Raoul, I don't know, just have something! You're all so wonderful!

I hope you can still enjoy it, and stick with this story. This chapter is very very ummm hmmm how to describe, action packed, and we do have mentions of self harm!

Thanks again!

*no ownership to meee*

Chapter 25-Nadir's POV

I stood and watched Christine canter away on the mare the Shah had given to her, I watched refusing to remove my eyes of her back until the Shah turned to walk away, and I in turn followed him as he beckoned me. I sighed, I was amazed at how well Christine had acted, I could tell she was uncomfortable around the Shah, but by Christ she had stayed rooted to the spot when he embraced her, and although she shook did not flinch when he had all but devoured her cheek, I had, had to look away when that had occurred, I found it nothing other than repulsive, we were taught through Persian religion to keep physical contact between only two people, to keep it private, but the Shah disregarded this and took no shame in expressing his desires very clearly. I closed my eyes at the thought, no really regarding where we were going, simply following without caring. I glared into the Shah's ridiculously over dressed back, it shone white, I wondered how on earth the slaves got it so clean. The politicians wittered in his ears, though he groaned with waved them away with hasty hands.

I realised without knowing we alone in the court room, it was silent, which was strange to be standing in such a large room with only the Shah. The hairs on the back off my neck stood up. I did not like how it was just us, the young man turned to me.

'Do you have any leads?' he grinned, looking excited.

My mind was blank, what did he mean? Leads? I looked at his smirking face confused, trying desperately to think.

'On who it is that is trying to steal my girl?' he said angrily, my mind kicked into action, I had completely forgotten about his little task for me, so much had been on my mind. But it all came back now, what was I to do, I knew who loved Christine. But of course I could not hand him in! No, never. My stomach dropped at the thought of Erik for some reason, the necklace had worried me, why had he been there and not shown himself? I knew he was not the sort of man to simply drop things personal to him, no he was much too careful for that. Something wasn't right.

'No, I have not Sir. But doesn't the girl seem more happy in your presence, your gift must have worked.' I lied through my teeth but didn't care, the Shah's moment of frowning turned into a giant grin.

'Yes, she seemed rather taken, didn't she?' The smirk on his face was enough to make me look down, I couldn't bear to gaze upon that face any longer, his happiness at a girl's obvious suffering made me feel sick.

'I want him found though. I want him dead, she must only have eyes for me. My mother says she has an idea of who it is; I suggest you speak to her.' He told me with a nod then turned away, the slaves rushing to his side carrying food, drinks, cloth, all manner of ridiculous gifts. I did not pay much attention as I staggered my way out of the palace, the Khanum thought she knew who loved Christine, did that mean she really knew? Did she know it was Erik? She was a clever woman; it would not surprise me if she did know, I felt sick fill my stomach, if she did know what would this mean? I knew only trouble would come. I knew that Erik would be in danger, but something told me trouble had already found Erik. Since meeting the strange young man I had developed this sense of when he was in trouble, or when he was hurt, it was a strange sensation deep within my stomach, and at this particular moment the feeling was in overdrive. By the time I was seated on my horse I was in a cold sweat, no something was definitely not right. I prayed my son was okay, I prayed that they were all safe, that none of them had been hurt, yes I even prayed for Erik's safety.

I galloped through the streets as fast as the slow moving crowds would allow, the people were all wearing the same fearful look, they would all turn to gaze upon me terrified praying I was not one of the precious Gestapo, the I was not the Khanum herself, on seeing me they would continue, heads down muttering, clutching at their young ones, and get inside as quick as possible, all knew that when afternoon began to turn to dusk it was not only that darkness which danced through the streets, but the reputation of the Khanum's nightly boredom tangoed with it, making a situation of horror, of despair. I thundered faster, nearing my home, the children throwing themselves to the walls as I pushed ever harder, gulping and praying as I looked into their eyes that my beautiful damaged son would be okay, that no harm had been given to him, he did not deserve pain. On the thought of my sons cries, flashbacks of his gooey eyes and struggling movements, my heels kicked into my mares side, never have I felt her move so fast, some sort of desperation and dread filled me making me lean up her neck and ride almost i the hooligan fashion Erik did. How I managed to get home without a fall was a mystery, but not one I intended on lingering on. I tethered my mare next to Christine's magical one, and I froze. My heart beat filled my ears, yes, something was definantly wrong, I stood frozen, regarding my home, though now it did not feel like a home, no it had the ore of something terrible, as I looked at my home my stomach fell to my feet, I approached the doors my hands out like a zombies, but nothing prepared me for what was inside.

The sobs were the first thing to consume me, the cries, sobs and begs, they were in a high pitched voice, which automatically I knew was my sons. My knees shook, dear god, I ran feeling as though I was falling to the source of the noise, round the corridor and then slammed to a stop. As I looked at the scene before me, had I been a catholic I suppose I might have crossed myself. I saw straight away that my son was not hurt, however he was still the one who was howling, the one letting out the violent sobs. His hand clutching desperately to the long thin white one that was limp. Christine was desperately trying to control the situation; silk ribbons in her hands, her dress stained in blood, sweat on her brow, and a determination in her tear filled eyes. Between my son and Christine lay Erik. He was half through the door to his 'domain,' his body long and limp, sprawled between the two of them. I noticed the problem straight away, from his wrist up to his elbow, his stark white shirt had been removed, some of it was wrapped in the silk Christine held, but some was not and I was able to see the thick, deep gashes into his white skin. It made my mind spin as I looked at the blood that trickled from them, down his arm. It took me back to the night I had first seen him, when I had realised with cold brutality the cruelty this boy had faced, when he had been thrown from the cage, and I had seen the blood trickle from the seat of his trousers and down his leg staining the sand. It was as if it was all happening in slow motion, I looked at my son who sobbed into Erik's hand, whilst Christine was now begging me, at first I did not hear her voice, but then it came.

'Nadir, Nadir, please help!' she was crying, clutching to my arm. I nodded, not taking my eyes of my son.

'Amir, can you go and make a bed for Erik in the living room, on the sofa?' I said quietly to my distressed son, now kneeling in front of him, he seemed not to hear me, I repeated in my own language.

'Baba will he live?' he sobbed, never had I seen the boy so upset, never had I seen him like this, it scared me.

'I don't know Amir, can you do what I asked that will help.' I said quietly again, in a soft voice that didn't belong to me. Amir looked up and nodded, I embraced him tightly, kissing his head as he limped off. Now he was gone, I let my face drop, and I looked at Christine.

'I've done everything I can, but he won't stop bleeding, there's blood coming from everywhere!' she cried, wrapping his arm further and further in silk, his arm now in all the colours of the rainbow, I could see Christine was on the verge of breaking down, her tiny chest was raising and falling rapidly, her eyes wide and fearful, she had done well, but was it enough? She was right a lot of blood did seem to be coming from Erik, which considering the fact she had covered his arm told me something else was not right. I looked down at him, his masked face moving and twitching ever so slightly; I couldn't help but wonder what the hell was going through the boys mind. I knew these slashes were his handy work. I knew where else he might of attacked, I took a deep breath, praying to Allah, and un buttoned his shirt. I heard Christine's little breaths.

'What happened?' I asked her gently, dreading what I would see.

'I found him, oh Nadir, he-he-he had a mirror piece in his hand, it was covered in blood. I don't understand why he would do this!' she snivelled; I noticed she was holding her hand in his long one, running her thumb around his bandaged palm. She had found him, I took in a sharp breath, she had seen this, poor girl. She knew it was his own hand that had done this too now. I undid the last button on his black waist jacket, and pushed the material back, and what I saw made me gasp in horror. His chest was so heavily scarred there was barely any skin, like his hands he was the strange white colour, his chest was slightly muscular, though all his ribs could be seen, but it was the scarring, the long pink lines which covered every inch, with a gulp I realised what they were from. They were whip scarring. I had to force down my vomit, and focus on the long jaggered cut that ran across his stomach. This was where the bleeding must have been coming from. Christine looked down upon her 'angels' body and as she knelt beside him, looking at the savage scars I watched her face go from slightly pink to ghostly green, her eyes looking as if they may pop.

'Who-who?' she stammered in no more than a whisper, pointing at the scars.

'That is not for me to say.' I dropped Christine's gaze, taking the silk from her hand, I was impressed at her improvisation of bandages. She had done well.

'Now, I'm going to need you to bandage him whilst I hold him up.' I shifted so I was at Erik's head, I lifted his shoulder, his body like a dead weight, as I sat him up, his body threatening to fall, but I held him. Christine nodded, and used the make shift bandages to wrap around his middle. I watched her eyes which were focused entirely on the scars, she bandaged quickly, her hands covered in blood, my arms were now dead, the bandaging was done, but before I could lay Erik down again, I watched as Christine ran her fingers along one of the whipping scars, her tears rolling down her cheeks. My heart went out to her, she obviously cared for him terribly, her whole face showed that!

'Christine, he should be okay. We must get him more comfortable, we need to bathe his arms, and I have ointment. You did very well Christine, very well.' I said gravely, standing now, wondering how the hell I was to get this six foot four skeleton into the living room. I looked at Christine, who obviously knew what I was thinking, she leant down, taking up gently Erik's shoulder, I managed to get the other side, and pull him to his feet, his breathing had turned into small pants, I struggled with his weight and soon Christine was holding up his other side, she was being very helpful, and we somehow managed to get him to the warm living room, the curtains were drawn and on the sofa was the houses supply of quilts, duvets, pillows and throws, I couldn't help but smile at my son.

'Thank you Amir.' He nodded at me, his eyes though crossed only looked for Erik, who we laid down gently, a groan escaped his lips as his body took up the whole sofa. I sighed, watching him twitch slightly. But my eyes turned to Christine, who was staring transfixed at Erik's scars. I looked at her, the poor dove, her arms were covered in blood, as was her brow, she was sweating slightly, and her silk dress had tears in it as it was obviously now wrapped around Erik. I was very impressed, she had dealt with the situation well. I looked back at Erik, and found myself cursing him, why had he done this? Why had he slashed and maimed his own body? I did not know. But I knew it took a lot for a man to do so.

Amir was now back at Erik's side, who was twitching slightly now, his hand looped into the long skeletal one.

'Wake up now Erik.' He called in a little voice. I felt my heart burst.

'Will he live?' Christine asked from her knelt position by Erik's head, her voice was so grown up as she asked.

'He should do.' I replied, I knew he had lost blood, but had managed to miss anything vital. Christine smiled, shuffling closer to Erik, her face still immensely sad and very scared.

'My poor angel.' she whispered, more to him than anyone else I figured. I cocked my head as she said this, there was something in her voice, something sweet and pure, not that she wasn't these things anyway, but something so sweet it was boarding on love! No, it couldn't be...could it?

My mind spun again. Too much was happening and much too fast. I needed to get away from the room, where my son clung desperately to a man he barely knew, and where a girl so innocent and sweet was potentially falling in love with a lie. I left the room, to find the ointment, taking big deep breaths. I needed air, I needed something. I cursed as I found the ointment Erik had given me empty and soon found my feet taking me down those winding stairs through seemed to be an everlasting darkness. Perhaps I would find a clue down here to why Erik had potentially tried to take his life. The darkness was suffocating, however I found refuge in that cool black, to let my mind be consumed by the blackness, it smothered all other thoughts, ones of my son's undying love for a masked man, and for the fact I had said masked man with gashes all up his wrists and stomach on my sofa. I tripped down the last steps, still it was hellishly dark, but a few tiny yellow lights burnt through the darkness. Illuminating Erik's 'domain' I automatically saw the pot of lime green ointment, and snatched it quickly not regarding the other jars. Surpassing my urges to run back up the stairs, I walked further into the room, and then saw the mirror on the floor, I picked up one of the lonely candles, and walked towards the mirror, I stopped abruptly when I saw the scatterings of blood that surrounded the shattered mirror, the ruby droplets stained upon its cracked face. It made me feel sick. Was that it, was that why he had damaged himself so greatly, because of his face? No, I didn't think so. Then, I saw it, the note on the piano; it was crumpled and looked rather old. I flinched back noticing the white keys were stained red, large finger prints of blood upon them, nonetheless I snatched the letter and began to read the French, which luckily I understood.

Erik.

I know you would not expect this from me, but I felt you needed an explanation. Firstly don't blame your mother, as sending you away was my idea. I did this because Erik you got too much, your temper, your music, your face it all frightened your mother. She wanted the perfect son, and Erik she got you. You're a smart boy Erik, you may be young, but very smart and I know you will understand that you cannot be part of your mother's life anymore. She can't live with you Erik. You scare her, make her sick. I love her, and will love her always. Perhaps I and your mother could have a child, then you will have a half sister or brother, wouldn't that be nice?

You're mother will finally be happy once you have gone Erik. The place you are going to is an asylum, I guarantee you will know what that means, despite your only being eight, but you're as smart as any of my colleges. This place is for people like you Erik, you will have your own room, and will have your music. You can just be yourself, without having to worry about your mother, and I doubt you'll ever have to wear your mask! Won't that be nice?

I know you love your mother Erik, but she does not return it. I promise to love her from now til the end of time, and she returns my love already, I know she never did this to you Erik, so doesn't that show, she is ready to move on. You're not a cruel boy Erik; you want your Mama happy. So forget her, forget me. Forget everything and now you can start afresh, so can your mother, I plan on marrying her, and making her my wife from now until the end of time. The man who will be taking you away is called Monsieur Hansen, he will take you to the asylum, and I'm sure he will take good care of you.

Good bye Erik, let me give your mother the love and happiness you never could.

Sincerely Julian de Portley

I let myself read it again, squinting as the candle burnt low. My mind was numb, Erik had been sent to an asylum at the age of eight? I nearly fell backwards, my jaw slack. Never had he mentioned it before. Never! But as I read the letter again, I realised there was so much I didn't know about Erik, so much. From this I had learnt that his mother's lover had sent him away, that he had given him up. But then it hit me, Monsieur Hansen was a name strangely familiar to me, but why would I know the man who took Erik to his asylum. That's because I didn't, I knew Monsieur Hansen, as in Hansen's gypsy fair. I knew that this man was the gypsy who I found Erik from. That meant only one thing that Julian de Portley had given Erik to the gypsies, that he was the man responsible for Erik slipping into the dark shadow that would start from the age of eight. I felt physically repulsed when I thought of this, Erik would have been the same as my son when first dealing with the gypsies, the scars on his chest came back to my mind, I didn't even want to try and think of the torments this young man had faced.

But I knew then that from people Erik expected nothing but pain. I walked up the stairs, where Christine sat holding his hand, and bathing his bloody arm. It was heart warming to see the young girl showing him kindness. But I knew with a heavy heart that he was like a dark storm, and she a small rose.

XXX

Christine POV

I put the ointment onto my fingers, it smelt like mint and salt, I looked at Erik's slashed arm, and I winced. My poor angel, they were so sore, and deep. I gently put the ointment into his wounds, I flinched away slightly at the feel of his ice cold skin, and the wounds which felt like little trenches in his perfect white skin. I sighed winding the bandages up his arm again. I didn't understand how this had happened. Why and it been Erik who was holding the blood blade? I didn't understand, he had told me it was the Living Corpse who had hurt him last time. But then how come he was holding the blade, how come he was in his room, and how come he was all alone. It made my mind spin. I didn't understand. I wiped my face, never had I been so scared. I had thought I was going to lose my angel that he was going to disappear, that he would be taken from my life. I wouldn't have coped! I knew without my angel now I would be lost. I held my breath, as I peeled back the bandage on his chest, it brought tears to my eyes all those scars! They were so horrible, so disgusting. Who had done this? The scars looked old; someone awful must have done this.

'Oh angel, what did they do?' I whispered I was alone with Erik now; Nadir had taken Amir away for a walk and to get some more bandages, as the silk I had bound him in were soaked black with blood. Erik moved slightly, he looked so helpless as he lay onto of the mountain of covers Amir had put down for him. Poor little Amir, he had been so upset. We both had been, but I had never realised he was so attached to my angel! His little sobs had melted my heart. I finished bandaging and cleaning my angel, then knelt beside him, taking his beautiful thin hand in mine drawing patterns into his palm, I smiled as he seemed to feel my tickles from somewhere in his sleep. His head turned to me, his eyes still clamped shut. My heart twitched as I looked at his sleeping form. He was so beautiful.

'My beautiful angel.' I whispered to him, I felt a lot calmer now, knowing my angel was going to be okay. But still there was a lump of ice in my tummy, I still didn't understand why Erik had been holding the blade. The blood had been everywhere, I knew it would give me nightmares for many nights. Erik had told me all about the Living Corpse I had pitied this man, but I still couldn't understand, there was no way the living corpse had been in Erik's room. Erik had told me that the Living Corpse had been abused as a young boy. My stomach went cold at this thought, my eyes darting straight to Erik's scarred chest. I dropped his hand that I had been holding. Had my angel been abused? But then...no...surely not. Erik had told me the Living corpse had been terribly deformed, that his face was a horror. My angel's face wasn't. But then I looked at his face and realised that I never seen beneath the mask, that the white mask had always been there since I had seen him. Erik was deformed...surely.

I stared at him for what felt like an eternity. When Erik had told me the Living Corpse had slashed his wrists the first time, had he meant the Living Corpse was himself? He would have told me, surely. I could only know one way. I went to my angel's face, my heart pounding against my chest. I had never seen my Erik's face, I had always imagined it to be unbelievably beautiful like the rest of him, I was captivated by Erik, every part of him, sure his face would be the same. But then, why the mask? I had never worried about it before, but now. Now I needed to know. I reached down, praying my angel wouldn't hear my pounding heart. I put my fingers to his mask, the cold leather, made my fingers jump, then taking a breath I put them back to it. I felt like a cheat, like a brat for doing this, but I had to know! I felt Erik's head lean into my hand, I gave a weak smile and was about to give up and wait for him to tell me, but almost involuntary my fingers went to pull off the mask, they latched onto it.

I was about to pull up, but two big eyes, one of electric blue and one of the deepest brown opened looking up at me. There was a loud gasp, my angel rose, I fell to my behind and the leather mask fell between us.

Thank you for reading!

I hope you enjoyed it, and found the unmasking realistic.

Christine was meant to be a little more grown up.

Thank you so much for all your support! Means so much to me!

*reviewers get to cuddle Erik!*