Christine's POV

Erik had trouble getting back to sleep that night, but I stayed with him until he was able to do so. It was nearly morning by then, and after tucking him back in, I walked back to my own room. The poor man had not slept well or long enough to be rested, which was why I decided not to wake him the following morning. After showering, I popped my head back into his room, finding him still sound asleep beneath his blankets. Usually by now, he was already making his way into the bathroom to prepare himself for work. Knowing that he needed the rest, I didn't disturb him and instead prepared myself for the day. When I was fully dressed, I headed into the kitchen to start breakfast, finding Gustave racing up the stairs with his shovel and pail.

"Gustave," I caught him when he was nearly on the final stair. "What are you doing?"

"Going to see Mister Mulheim. I want him to take me to the beach today."

"Mister Mulheim isn't feeling well, pumpkin," I said. "It's best to let him sleep."

"When will he get up?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "It's hard to say. He doesn't sleep well, sweetheart. We should let him sleep as long as he needs to. Come down here and keep quiet. I'll make you something to eat."

When breakfast was eaten and the mess was cleaned up, I decided to finish the wash I had started a few days ago. While my child was upstairs playing in the family room, I made my way down into the dark basement to fold Erik's clothes that were hanging across the line. It was so quiet and damp in the basement that it reminded me of his old lair back in Paris. Usually, I cringed at the thought of him living there, but there were times like these when I missed it. With the clean shirts and trousers folded neatly, I began to unload the basket of dirty ones, finding them soaked with sweat and the backs of the shirts covered in dried blood stains. I was about to inspect them further, when I heard someone coming down the stairs.

"Ah, Christine," It was Nadir. I wasn't sure how he had gotten into the house, but I didn't ask. When he was off the final stair, he came walking over to me, a stack of forms in his hand. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

I shook my head. "I wasn't frightened, just surprised. This house is a bit big and with only the three of us living here, it tends to become eerie at times."

"I can imagine. Washing are you? At least he has someone to wash his clothes. When we first arrived in New York, I kept asking him when he was going to introduce himself to soap."

I shook my head, for it was so like Erik to let himself go. He was like a child sometimes, one that needed to be told what to do.

"Did his shirts look and smell worse than these?" I asked, holding up the sweat and blood soaked shirt.

Nadir nodded. "I'm afraid so. With stains like those, you must think that he fights bulls on the side of being the manager of Phantasma."

"I know he doesn't…I guess I just feel horrible about it."

"The winter is much kinder to him, Christine. In the winter, he doesn't sweat, in the winter, his scars don't get dried out and bleed. In the summer, he has no choice but to layer himself with thick clothing. The summer heat beats down upon his back and causes his scars to crack and bleed. They sometimes blister and cause him pain, which is why he sleeps on his stomach."

Not being able to look at the shirts any longer, I tossed them into the bucket of soapy water to soak.

"I'm afraid Erik is asleep, Nadir. He didn't sleep well last night…He's starting to remember things about the past."

"Well, that's a good thing."

"No, it's not," I cried. "Last night he asked me if he was the Phantom of the Opera. I…I couldn't tell him the truth. How could I tell him that he murdered people?"

Nadir shook his head and patted me on the back. "Oh, Christine, what have you done?"

"I only want to protect him, Nadir. He can't find out about that…Not now, not ever. It will destroy him. What he's remembered so far is good and enough for him. He doesn't need to know about that…He doesn't need to have nightmares about the people he's murdered."

"Perhaps you should take it easy with trying to jog his memory, Christine. If he's starting to remember things at a quicker pace, you should stop for the time being and enjoy what he has remembered so far. Anyway, I just stopped by to drop off some forms for him to fill out. I'll leave them with you. If you can remember, let Erik know that he has an important meeting tomorrow with his employees at the Opera House. He tends to forget about meetings because he doesn't want to attend them."

When Nadir was gone, I finished up in the basement, knowing that he had been right. Erik had remembered enough things for now. Perhaps it would be better to stop jogging his memory for the time being and to enjoy the relationship we had built with one another.

Erik's POV

If there was anything worse than a nightmare, it was not being able to sleep. I tossed and turned that night, finally falling asleep by morning. Not wanting to budge, I slept until I felt strong enough to pull myself from my bed. There were things that needed to be done and I was the only one that could do it. I pulled off my night shirt and headed to my wardrobe to find something else to wear for the day. Usually, Christine left a pair of clothes out for me when she did my wash, but today, she hadn't. I was just pulling open my wardrobe, when I noticed that there were no shirts hanging in there for me to wear. With the summer heat getting worse, I had to change my clothes at least twice a day, that probably being the reason why I didn't have anything to wear now. After adjusting my mask, I opened my bedroom door, only to trip over Gustave. I went flying towards the stairs, catching myself on the banister just in the nick of time. When I dared to turn around, the child was sitting there in my doorway with his toys spread out. What was he even doing up here?

"Mister Mulheim, I was waiting for you to get up," he said. "I wanted to play with you."

My anger was brewing, but I didn't yell at the boy. He was just like me when I was his age. All I ever wanted was for someone to play with me, and when I asked my mother to do so, she always yelled and screamed at me. Doing so now wouldn't make anything better…

"I have things to do," I said, heading down the stairs. "The first thing I must do is find a clean shirt."

When I was down the stairs, I looked for any sight of Christine, finding the basement door wide open. Oh, another pair of stairs! Stairs were my worst enemy, especially when I had just struggled down the ones outside my bedroom.

"Christine!" I called her name, gaining a response from her within seconds.

"Yes?"

"There are no clean shirts in my wardrobe."

There was no response, only the sound of her coming up the stairs. When she emerged, she had a stack of folded clothes in her arms. She placed them down on the counter and turned to face me.

"Sorry," she said. "I…I must have fallen behind in the laundry. Which color would you like to wear? I have three black and four white. The rest of them are soaking downstairs now."

"How is the humidity outside?" I asked.

"Terrible…"

"Then white, please…"

Christine handed me a white shirt and I thanked her before heading back towards the stairs.

"Erik?"

I stopped when I heard her voice again. "Yes?"

"Erik, I think you should let me tend to your back. It's…It's horrible."

I looked towards the top of the stairs where the child was standing. Oh, nothing felt more embarrassing than this. The boy probably thought I was a freak, for his eyes were locked on the thousands of lumpy scars scattered all over my chest.

"Scram, boy," I growled, motioning him to get downstairs. "The upstairs is not your playground."

When the boy was gone, I headed back upstairs with Christine following me. Once we were in my bathroom, she went rummaging through the medicine cabinets.

"I was going to shower before work," I said. "The water will wash away any bloodstains."

"Perhaps, but not the infection." She came back out of the cabinet with a bottle in hand. After grabbing a washcloth, she poured the substance over it and had me lean against the sink. The pain I felt as she dabbed the soaked cloth over each scar was excruciating. The substance sizzled over each scar, causing me to groan and clench the sink with my fists.

"You need to have someone do this for you, Erik," she said. "At least twice a week to keep any infection away. Your shirts are stained with blood…You shouldn't wear so many layers in the summer heat."

I peeled off my mask and spun around to face her.

"And what? Have them see this? Oh, Christine, if you only knew how I felt… I am a respected businessman. I can't let them see the weak monster behind this mask. My employees see me as a handsome and mysterious man, and that is the way it must remain."

"For them, yes," she said. "But not for me. With your mask and wig, you are a respected businessman, and you still are, even when they're off."

And then, she leaned in and brushed her lips against my own. A kiss! A kiss for me! I sighed and felt something shoot through me, something that I had never felt before. When the girl broke away, she smiled and began to button up my shirt for me.

"You don't have to kiss me, Christine. That's not part of your salary…"

"I don't kiss you because I need to, Erik, I do it because I want to."

Before either of us could say another word, a knock occurred, followed by Gustave's voice.

"Mama? Mister Mulheim? Are you in there?"

I came walking out wearing my mask and ruffled his brown locks.

"What have I told you about coming up here? The upstairs is no playground, boy."

"Are you going to Phantasma today, Mister Mulheim?"

"Yes, I'm nearly ready to head there now."

"Oh, take me with you…Pwease! Pwease! Pwease!"

The boy was jumping up and down in front of me like an excited deer. It was driving me mad…But what was I to say? I wasn't his father and had no right to say yes or no.

"It's up to your mother, not me."

He turned to Christine now and began begging her to let him go to Phantasma with me.

"Erik, I don't want to inconvenience you."

"I wouldn't mind, Christine, really…"

Christine thought a few moments before nodding. "All right…"

"YES!" Gustave cried.

"But you must listen to Mister Mulheim and do as he says, all right?"

Gustave nodded and hugged his mother goodbye.

"If he's any trouble at all, Erik, just bring him home."

I smiled. "I think I can manage, Christine. He isn't like other boys his age…He reminds me of myself."

Christine made a weary smile, but didn't say another word as Gustave and I headed out into the hot Coney Island afternoon.


Awww... Erik said Gustave reminds him of himself... Well, let's see what happens during this wonderful outing. Speaking of wonderful outing, this will be my last update for the week due to my boyfriend's surprise trip that he's taking me on. He won't tell me where we're going so I guess I just have to wait and see...Hmmmm... Waiting is sooooo annoying. But anyway, enjoy your weekend wherever you go, and please review! I will be back with another chapter on Sunday evening!