Christine flew to Erik's side and tried to shake him, hoping he would wake up. She forced her vocal cords to say his name but the pain caused her hand to grasp her throat as a means of comfort.
Dear God, what am I going to do? She mentally cursed her condition and her uselessness. Think, Christine Think!
She decided to knock on their neighbors' doors to see if anyone could help her. Yet she paused when she reached the doorknob.
How will I get them to understand? I can't speak. I have nothing to write with. They'll think I'm crazy…. What if Erik doesn't wake up? She turned around frantically and collapsed by Erik's side, sobbing into his chest. Even crying seemed to cause her pain but it was nothing compared to what her heart was feeling at the possibility of losing her angel.
After a few moments, she felt her head move, only it wasn't by choice. She jumped when she saw Erik shaking his head and lifting himself up. She quickly wiped her eyes and then placed both hands on his shoulders to try and steady his movement.
"Chris…. Christine? What am I doing on the floor? What happened?" He then saw the pain in her eyes and he cursed under his breath. "I'm sorry, angel. I…. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable and feel as if you had to answer me. I must have lost control for a moment. I'm fine now. Come…."
Erik tried to get up again, only this time Christine stopped him with more force than before. She gave him a stern look and then shook her head frantically.
"What is it? You can't expect me to stay on the floor. I'm fine. Look, we need to find some writing paper for you."
No sooner did Erik get up on his feet, than Christine took his arm and placed it behind her back as she started to lead him towards the staircase. However when Erik saw where she was leading him, his body froze. Christine glanced up when she felt him stiffen.
"No…. No! You can't make me go up there. I can't…. I can't go!" He then tore himself away from Christine and kneeled down in the middle of the room. "I'm not ready… I thought…. I thought….." He then looked at her with pleading eyes. "I beg you, do not make me do it!"
Christine hadn't seen Erik beg or look so lost and frightened since she unmasked him for the first time. All she knew was that she didn't want to be the cause of his pain. She wanted to try and heal him. The scars of his past obviously still affected him deeply.
She cautiously came towards him while he shook his head with fright, afraid she would force him to go up the stairs and have to see the place where he was banished to all those years ago. Christine kneeled down next to him and opened her arms widely. How she wished she could just say his name and hope that would allow him to feel some comfort. Instead, she shook her head and held her arms opened, as her eyes implored him to seek comfort in her embrace.
Erik's breathing changed as he started to calm down and inched closer to Christine, practically falling into her arms.
"Oh Christine, forgive me. I am so sorry. I should be strong for you. I thought that I was past all this. I…."
She brought her index finger to his lips. She then asked with her eyes to remove his flesh mask. He hesitated but grabbed her waist tightly as he nodded. She took off his mask and began to apply tender kisses to each side of his face. When she heard him gasp, she smiled at him and then rocked him gently back and forth.
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A few hours had gone by and their belongings had arrived from the station. It was just the distraction that they both needed and fortunately nothing was so urgent that needed to be put away. Thus the need to go upstairs diminished. When they found the tea that Dr. Ronzert had recommended, Christine gestured to Erik that she was going to make them some in the kitchen.
"But that is for you. I don't need to….."
She placed her hands on her hips and looked very sternly at him. She then walked over to her bag and smirked as she began to pull out her notebook and write. He relented when he read her words.
It's mine and I choose to share with you. Enough said.
As she walked into the kitchen, Erik's head tilted to the stairway and the top floor.
How could her presence still affect me so? This is an ideal place for Christine to heal. Now I've gone and ruined the whole thing!
He aimlessly wandered to where the piano was and couldn't believe it was still there. Of course he didn't think any of the renters would touch it but a small part of him wished that Nadir had done something with the instrument. What changes did the man even do? Everything still looked the same.
He fought the temptation to go over and sit down by the piano but its power was too much for him. It called to him like a haunting melody, pure and unearthly. He took a deep breath and couldn't help but smile.
"This was mine. It always was. Even though she loathed anything as gruesome as me to touch it, I still worked and worked to make it sound beautiful. More beautiful than Charles ever could, Marie told me so herself." He stopped at the mention of her name. "Marie…."
He put his head down when he recalled the letter she had written him. She tried to reach him after Madeline fell ill and her time was short. However when Erik finally received the letter, it had been too late. His mother had already died. The postmark was over a few years old. In fact, the only way he had even know she tried to contact him was when Nadir made inquiries about the house. He could have sought her out but in the end, he chose to remain secluded in the Opera House. By that time, he was finished with all human contact or so he thought.
His fingers began to touch the keys and no sooner did he start, than he found he could not stop himself from playing a song those halls had heard dozens of times. He played the Requiem just as Marie had encouraged him to do ever since he first learned to play.
When he finished, he found Christine sitting beside him, smiling as she handed him a cup of tea. She mouthed the word, beautiful.
"You are beautiful, my Christine. What you heard was just…." He shrugged. "I am sorry for my behavior before. I suppose, time does not heal all wounds. Yet I am much better and I want to be able to show you this house and why I still believe it will be perfect for us while you heal."
She started to tear up.
"Christine? Oh angel, please do not be sad. I am fine. I swear it. I…."
She began to frantically write down all she was feeling and then tore the page from the notebook as she made him take it and read it. When he started to eye the words, she stopped and gestured for him to read it out loud.
"But…."
She did the gesture again looking adamant.
He nodded and granted her request.
"When I saw you on the floor, I was petrified. I thought, my God, he needs help. He needs help and I am completely helpless. How am I going to be here for him like this? I can't speak, I can't explain what happened. I am useless."
Erik huffed. "You are not useless. You are the one… The only one that could calm me down and bring him out of that state."
She got up and wrapped her arms around herself. Erik continue to read out loud.
"I thought, what if I had learned to sign, would that have made a difference?" Erik tried to look at her but her back was still towards him. He sighed as he continued. "I felt so selfish."
That made him get up and walk towards her, making her look at him. "Selfish? Angel, that is absurd."
She pointed to the letter. He nodded but did not let go of her hand.
"I didn't answer yes to your teaching me to sign because I thought if I did it, I would be accepting my fate to no longer talk or sing. It would be as if you and I had given up." He was about to protest when she shook her head and grabbed the notebook again.
I know it sounds foolish but as I told you, I was selfish. And I know that I couldn't master enough in such a short time to get help and maybe no one would understand me anyhow but the point is, I had no choice in the matter because I was only thinking of myself and my vanity and…
"And what?"
Thinking it would cause me to lose you.
Erik took the notebook from her hand and threw it across the room.
"You stubborn girl, how many time do I have to tell you? I know you will regain your voice. That's why I brought you here. I only wished for you to not feel so confined to a pad of paper or have your hands suffer unnecessarily. You know, maybe telling you is not enough." He took her into his arms and pressed his lips passionately to hers. After a moment, they broke apart for air only neither could stand to be apart for any more than they had to. Erik claimed Christine's lips once more and then he carried her to the couch. The next time they broke for air, he cupped her chin.
"Have I convinced you yet? If not, I have hours and hours of persuasion techniques to get you to see reason, my dear."
She grinned as she traced his real face. She mouthed the words I'm sorry and then she pointed to herself and then made a heart shape with her hands, followed by her finger pointing back at him.
"I love you too, Christine. Yet there is an easier way to sign that. Would you like me to show you?
She nodded yes.
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Erik had shown Christine half of the alphabet in sign language, stopping at the letter N.
"Once you've mastered the alphabet, my dear I will show you how we can use gestures to make actual words."
She arched her brow.
He smiled. "I'll show you." He took his hand and circled his face with an opened palm and then he moved his hand away and then right back to his face. "That is the sign for beautiful. You will see me doing this often when I speak about you."
She blushed.
"Maybe I should just show you the sign for Christine? It means the same thing." He grinned.
She then brought her hands to his face and caressed him while she kissed his deformed cheek.
"Now what say you to that tour? We can unpack later." He got up and extended his arm up to her. "Are you ready, my lady?"
She wanted to pull him back down on the couch and discuss what happened before. What kind of a life had her angel known? She then remembered that night in his lair when he told her that his face earned him a mother's fear and loathing. A mask, was his first, unfeeling scrap of clothing. How she wished she could express herself to him. Yet she knew she needed to be patient. Erik would have to tell her when he was ready and on his terms.
Trust me, my angel. Please give me one more chance to hear your story and know that no matter what you say, I will still be here.
"Christine? Have you changed your mind? Well, I think we need to communicate our yes and no responses. How about for every time you wish to say yes, you kiss me and for every time you wish to say no, you kiss me twice? Sound good?"
She eyed him coyly.
"What? I was only thinking of a simple communication tactic. I didn't want to tire you out with all this learning. Besides we still have voice exercises to do before bed. Now, let's try it. Do you wish to see the house?" He bent down and puckered his lips.
She had to look away as she laughed. She wanted to sign the word adorable but she didn't know all the letters yet. She fought the urge to write the word down and chose to play along and kiss him once for yes.
"See how easy my way of communicating is, Christine?" He took her hand and escorted her back into the kitchen. "I didn't particularly care to highlight this room. It is the garden behind the kitchen that I wanted to show off." He opened the door and led Christen out into a full bloom rose garden.
Christine couldn't believe how beautiful it was. She instantly went to a blooming bud and smelled its sweet scent.
"Careful of the thorns." He warned. He then paused as he eyed the beauty of the garden. He seemed lost in thought until Christine touched his shoulder.
She began to spell out the name Nadir but had to stop after the letter I.
"No. He didn't make this change. The garden was always here. It was hers….."
She touched his cheek and as Erik allowed himself to enjoy the sensation of her fingers on his face, he remembered that he was without his mask. He quickly covered up the right side of his face and looked about. When he saw no one in sight, he exhaled a deep breath.
"You have spoiled me. A few hours without my mask and I think I can roam about anywhere. Come…." He extended his free hand to her waist and guided her back inside.
Once they were back in the kitchen, Christine made the sign for beautiful.
"The garden? Yes, it was always the pride of the house."
She went up to him and pressed her lips to his, not once but twice. She then shook her head and pointed to the garden and then back to him.
He blushed. "Me?"
She kissed him once.
He spoke to her softly as he kept their heads close to one another. "I see you have taken to our new form of communication quite well, angel."
She nodded as she smiled.
"Are you tired?"
She shook her head.
"Good, because we have much more to see. You saw the music room but there is a very cozy library, with a fireplace and books to the ceiling. My father was a bit of a scholar. Come let's make sure the previous tenants haven't ruined anything."
As he grasped her hand, they went past the staircase, causing Erik to stop. "Wait. I think it's time we see the upstairs, no?"
She stopped him by placing her hand on his heart.
He kissed her hand and then placed it right back where it was. "With you beside me, I can face anything. Besides, I need to see what that pesky Persian did to this place."
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As they went up the staircase arm in arm, Erik mentally prepared himself for what he would see. When they reached the top, his eyes automatically went to the door in the corner that led to the attic but when he didn't see the infamous entrance, he let go of Christine and went straight in that direction, only to find a wall.
His hand traced the wall, wondering if he could still feel what the concrete tried to conceal. "It's gone…. He made it disappear." Erik was at a loss. Should he be grateful or was the thought of the room no longer existing more to protect the guilty, as opposed to the innocent? He found himself letting out a small laugh. Since when did he refer to himself as innocent?
Christine carefully approached him and touched his arm. He spoke but couldn't avert his eyes. "This was once a doorway that lead to the attic. It was my bedroom for all the years I can remember. I didn't even know why I was sent to such a place until my fifth birthday…" He shut his eyes. That was the day that changed everything for him. Before that, he just thought he had been disobedient to his mother. Yet when Marie had made such a fuss over the day, he realized it was his birthday and he dared to utter his birthday wish.
"I asked for….. I hoped to receive….." He then shook his head, afraid he was frightening Christine. He looked at her, expecting to see fear but instead, all he saw was patience and love. She nodded for him to continue.
"I asked my mother for two kisses." He sighed. "One for now and one for later. She had never kissed me before that day…..And she never did afterwards, for that matter."
Christine visibly shook. She looked as if she was about to explode. She desperately wanted to remember the letters she knew to sign but she was flustered and began searching for paper. She stormed into one of the rooms, not knowing what she would find but she was on a mission. Erik hurried after her, afraid she might hurt herself but he paused at the doorway when he realized she entered his mother's room. She had stopped her search long enough to stare at the framed oil painting of a couple on their wedding day. Although she had no idea who they were, she seem to recognize them. She turned to Erik, who slowly walked towards her.
"I suppose the tenants assumed it to be art work for the décor of the room. The reality is that the painting was a wedding present bestowed upon Charles and Madeline Dexter, my parents."
She looked at him and then back at the couple. Yes, of course. The man is the spitting image of Erik, minus the disfigurement on the right side of his face. She then noticed some note paper by the desk.
Erik looked at the painting a few minutes more. "I'm sorry this day is tuning into such a disaster. We had to escape and I didn't want to leave France just yet as I knew you wouldn't want to either. I thought if we came here, we could both think and heal." He went to sit on the bed. "Notice, I said both of us, Christine? I should have known better. How can I help you when I am constantly being tormented by my past? You don't deserve this." He place his head in his hands.
Christine wrote down her thoughts and then sat next to him on the bed and started to massage the back of his neck.
"Your touch is blissful, angel. I only wish I…"
She placed the note in his hand.
It's frustrating to not be able to say or express all I am feeling to you. Yet you should know by now how to hear my heart. That woman in the panting is not what she seemed. How could someone who looked so happy be so heartless? How could a man turn his back on his own flesh and blood? How could a mother reject her own child, especially one as gifted and as precious as you?
Erik was about to argue but she forced him to continue reading.
She was beautiful but stupid and weak. My God, to think I was almost like her. My rejection of you…. Probably another reasons to why you lived the way you lived. Another reason to blame me for…..
Erik shook his head and put down the piece of paper. "Never blame yourself for my actions! We have been through all that and you are not to blame. I was out of my wit, I was forcing you to make impossible choices. I…"
She silenced him again. "Me…." She forced the word out of her throat and although it hurt like hell, she didn't regret it.
Erik wrapped his arms around her. "My Christine. We both may share the blame but I do not want you to bring up the past. We are supposed to be moving on, remember?" He loosened his embrace, so he could see her face.
Christine began to write again and showed him her words.
Erik read them and then brought his eyes to hers. "Christine, you don't know what you are asking. My past is not a happy one. I consider the day I was truly born and began living, the day I met you and we both know what happened from that day on. Can't we be satisfied with that?"
She signed the word no with her hands.
"You could have kissed me your reply." He tried to make a joke but when she did not react, he sighed instead. "I have come so far from being that man….I have you and I don't want to put us in jeopardy, angel."
Not possible.
"And if you run away? What if once you learn the whole story of Erik Dexter, you realize that this is too much and you can't see past the horror? I am not just talking about my wicked face. I am talking about the humiliation, the scars, the beatings, the blood and murder. Not just from the Opera Ghost but of the wicked boy, the devil's child, the careless drifter, the executioner…. My God, anyone in their right mind would run and never look back."
Erik, we can't build a future, unless we are both free from the past. You know all about me. I only wish to know the man I love. I want to know you. All of you.
"How much more must you have to take and accept? Why must God constantly challenge any form of happiness that comes my way? No one can accept all this, not even you, angel! I told you once before that no one is that brave."
Neither one of us are angels, remember? We are human, flesh and blood. You are a man and I am a woman. A woman who desperately wants to know all about the man behind the mask.
"It seems as if every challenge we meet, is greeted with another. I am supposed to be protecting you not tormenting you."
No, you are supposed to love me. Love comes with trust and honestly. I don't care how many challenges we face, as long as we face them together. How much do you love me, Erik?
"Are you serious? I love you more than anything in this world. I love you enough to let you go and find happiness without me. I love you…."
Do not say you love me and let me go. Say you love me and fight for me. Be my Phantom and fight for us.
"You want me to be the Phantom?"
Only the good parts. He is a masterful storyteller, after all.
She blushed when he finished reading her response. He laughed out loud and it made him feel better and hearing his laughter, brought a smile to her face.
"Alright Christine, I will tell you a story, just as the Phantom did all those years ago when he would sing songs in your head and whisper words of comfort and love in the dark. Yet the tale I tell you is not for the faint of heart. I will tell you all you wish to know but if you ever wish me to stop, you must tell me so."
She nodded.
"And if you wish to….. To leave me…I will never stop you. You are not my prisoner and you are not without options. I don't want you here with me out of obligation, pity or fear."
Only love. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed him down onto the bed.
"Christine?"
She sat up but kept him in his place, as she wrote once more.
Honesty, you better teach me the rest of this alphabet! Anyway, I read a story once where the couple would always hold one another whenever they had something distressing to say. It allowed them to find the strength within each other to say what needed to be said and to listen. I want us to be like that.
"But this is not fiction, my dear. It is the cold, hard truth."
It's your life and I can only be a part of your life, if I know it just as you know mine.
She took the paper out of his hand and then reached for him again. Once they were securely wrapped in each other's arms, Erik began with the story of his birth.
A/N: I felt bad about how I left the last chapter, so I thought having an entire chapter of Erik and Christine would make up for it. Yet was there some foreshadowing? Time will tell. Until next week.
