I don't really have much to say now but that I would dearly like more reviews...Am I losing you just because she admitted her love...? Ha ha... That sucks. Well, I hope you're still there for I just concocted several ways of continuing this story and everything seems to be perfectly able to fit in. Maybe it's just a popular time for vacation, I dunno. I don't want to have a reference for every chapter and how many times you people review, for I know it kind of gets dry everytime for I don't review that much myself... I still love you all and I hope you enjoy this sort of bridge that I put together until the next chapter when more events come up.

~The Phantom's Flutist~


Chapter 29:
Rolling Time

I left the next day to the house that I recently spent my days at, baring Erik's ring that I lost and he retrieved. I made the promise, of course, I didn't want to leave him for it seemed it was almost impossible now. Even if I did make it far enough that he would be convinced I didn't love him anymore, I would hurt enough that I would draw myself back to him, and convince him once more. Something would bring me back by a driving force no matter what the status is. He seemed to already know that. I didn't have complete free reign, of course, but he didn't come with me when I was driven to the house I recently spent a few days at before being dragged away again.

It wasn't welcoming this time. It was like it was mocking me, the weather becoming the cold bitter temperature that this place endures when the middle of fall sweeps over like a reminder that summer was through with. Rain was pouring down and through the tinted window, the bright and free house was like a glare in my vision.

I had to do this. I just couldn't bring myself to concoct enough words to tell him that I'd rather spend my days with the man who just recently tried to kill him and now crippled him so that he's restricted to a bed.

I was greeted by his brother with a solemn and rather confused look on his face. He didn't say hello or give me any sort of friendly welcome or gesture, he stared with a dull and blank look on his face.

"You're here for Raoul," He said slowly. I nodded and he gestured up the stairs. I crossed my arms to hide the chill and discomfort, looking back to the driver in the black car. I took in a deep breath and walked up the stairs to his room where there was his sister stood. His sister was very handsome to begin with, but not the most kindred of souls, she glared at me, staying a good foot taller than I.

"Your sweetheart is here," She spat, looking back to the bed, where I couldn't see him just yet for the nurse was standing over him.

"Christine!" I heard a voice that was a very pained cry, tearing my heart out of my chest.

"Yes, I'm here, Raoul," I whispered walking to the seat being offered to me spitefully.

"I thought he would not let you go... to see me... unless I'm dead. Am I dead?" He asked, sounding like a little boy with a drastically weakened sweet voice. I felt tears prick my eyes.

"No, Raoul, he let me come..." I whispered, my hand coming to his head and through his hair, brushing it back. "This was all my fault, Raoul..."

"No!" He began, reaching up and took my arm that brushed back his hair. "No... this is not your fault, nothing is your fault. This is a nightmare... a nightmare! When I'm better, we must leave...we must... go to New York or somewhere, we'll live in Maine for the rest of our lives, and escape this and live together... and Christine, I want to be with you... he can't do this to me... he can't..." He coughed, "take you away..." He was crying now, reaching out to me blindly and I came closer to him.

I was crying very much so right now, feeling tears freely fall at my childhood friend crying for me now, and I felt so small, as small as he. I wanted to help him... When I looked out the window to the waiting driver outside in the black car. It wouldn't be very easy. My heart was breaking in half, one going one way and the second in another, also shattering into pieces along the way.

"He needs me, Raoul," I sighed, through the tears.

"You wear his ring!" He spat through another chasm of coughs, "He has you in some sort of... trance... this isn't right! You're not his!" He was like a young boy compared to Erik and rebelling.

"Raoul, no..." I sniffled, "You wouldn't understand... I don't know if I can see you again, Raoul, this is what I came to tell you. He is very ill, and I fear he may not pull through if he doesn't have someone to help."

"He deserves to go to Hell!" He exclaimed beside himself, very cruelly. "He's a monster! I was dying because of him... he tried to kill me! I could have fought him-" I cut him off as he went through the painstaking details and then his attempt to be the hero.

I shook my head and wiped the tears away. "No, Raoul... I'm sorry to say but even in his weakest state, you won't be able to fight him, and don't try again to kill yourself trying, I daresay you fought making your wounds worse." I noted, looking at the nasty red scars on the base of his neck. I furrowed my brow and looked even closer, seeing even more damage on his perfect skin, purple marks that were even higher on his throat. I choked a gasp at his wounds, feeling more tears come to my eyes. My God... what else could Erik have done to him?

He lost control... or he was planning this for a very long time which was most likely the case. How could he be so cruel? He was jealous... and I could see why. Raoul was remarkably handsome and my best friend, and someone who I freely went to and reminisced for hours, kissing him, and giving him caresses that I would never have dared to give Erik... I knew the facts and I wasn't afraid to know them, either.

Erik was handsome in his own way, honestly... he was very much so a respectable gentleman despite his terrible disfigurement. I dare to admit that he is attractive in his own, less physical way. Not because he's rich, not because he has power... but he treats a lady kindly, almost like Raoul... and I respect him just as much for that. What made me terrified of even being near him? Looking down to Raoul, I knew why I couldn't fall for someone who murders... Part of me will always remain loyal to Raoul for this reason and for a few more.

I breathed in deeply after a few moments of thinking. "I can't leave him," was all I said and all I could think of saying.

"You can't go back to him..."

"That's exactly what he will say if I don't come back. Raoul, he's much stronger than you currently."

"You just said he was ill!"

"And you're very much so injured!" I sighed, and bent down to kiss his forehead lovingly, "I love you, Raoul-to the moon and back. You know that. I can't stand this arguing... Erik needs me right now, and I came here because you called for me... not to debate. I must go, you see..."

"Stay here!" He cried, reaching out for something to hold onto as I stood up. I shook my head, trying hard not to cry. He finally saw that I was meaning this, that I was sincere and he sighed. "When he's dead, come back to me... as soon as he's done something wrong to you, if he hurts you in any way-"

"Erik would never hurt me," I replied earnestly, "If anything, he never wants to hurt me."

"But he has so much... I hate seeing you broken... He's tearing to to shreds. More so than you already were. You're not in your right mind! He must be tricking you..."

"I don't think so," I glared. I'm not being proved wrong here... Anything but being proven wrong. Erik's a brilliant actor, but not that brilliant that he would put himself through all this agony for a little game of obsession. It's not like he woke up one day and told himself "hey, I think I need a good obsession for the next few years or so." That would be... psycho. Gross.

"Maybe I'll see you again, Raoul," I kissed his head again, but he slipped in by pulling his lips to mine briefly before I pulled away.

"I love you, Christine," He said hopefully, holding onto my hand.

I looked at his hand, his warm, caring hand entwined with mine, a sensation that I've spent my whole life feeling, and felt a hole form in my heart. I tried to let go but he didn't he held on tightly as if holding on for his life, and I moved away, not wanting to feel the pain of leaving anymore, looking to the still-waiting driver outside.

"Please stay..." He begged as I went out the door. "Just one night..."

"I can't..." I said and walked out.

I was crying the rest of the ride back to Erik's mansion, and once we were on the long road just off the highway, I tried hard to wipe the tears away and recover so as to not have Erik question.

The driver unlocked the door for me and I stepped inside. "Erik!" I called out, seeing no signs of life anywhere in the foyer, and I heard no answer. I walked into the living room and still saw no signs of him. "Erik!" I called out even louder once more and received no movement whatsoever. I called out his name several more times before panic took over.

This was a big house but he never even used the rest of it besides where I normally am. I walked into the music room to find it darkened and just as useless as the rest of the places I checked. And finally, into the library to find him casually sitting there, looking at me listlessly, frightening the heck out of me.

"I called your name but you didn't answer!" I exclaimed through the excitement of finding him simply sitting there. "Why didn't you answer?" I asked angrily. "I thought you were gone or something..."

"A simple experiment, my dear, is all." He answered as if it was the most simple thing in the world. I furrowed my brow.

"A cruel experiment, don't you think?" I spat hotly.

"It does not matter," He said unemotionally, though he began to move like a stone awakening from a long lifeless sleep, for if you see a man sitting there, a mask covering his lips and not moving at all you would begin to think it strange and awkward, would you not? Talking to a statue... "What does matter is that you are back," He muttered, "And you look like you caught a cold..."

"No... it's nothing. I was just..." Crying... but I couldn't say that. What would he begin to think if I told him that much? If I told him I was sick, it would take forever to convince him I wasn't, though... I knew that already. "Upset a little, you see... I was, uh, kind of mad and upset over something you shouldn't worry about. Don't even begin to worry about.... I'm fine." I replied. It was one of the few times he didn't buy it.

"Your eyes are reddened, my dear." He noted. How could I even begin to think I'd get past this, anyway?

"I was crying... I'm going to my room." I said quickly and stalked off quickly without another moment's thought. I threw myself onto my bed and began another lonely time in this cage of mine that I once thought of as grand, as beautiful and astounding, but it was terrible. I wish to be with Erik, as I told him, but how would he take it if I told him I wouldn't like to live here? It's so dark and brooding and him but I do not like that side of him for it scares me like every other person.

He was at my door, I knew, I heard him breathing through the perturbing silence, debating with himself whether to knock or not.

"Christine-" I heard him start and exhale sharply, "Don't hide away from me... I want to be near you as much as I can... let me in?" He asked sadly.

"You said you hated to see me cry..." I sniffed.

"I want to help as much as I can...please?" He asked imploringly.

"You can't help." I muttered coldly. "I'll get over it... just..." I sniffed again. He came in anyway. I ponder on why he even bothers to ask He sat, as graceful as ever, at the foot of my bed and looked to me, and I looked away, not wanting to see his hurt eyes. "Why do you even ask to come in when you just go ahead and come in anyway...? Honestly..."

"I apologize," He softly replied, and grabbed hold of my left hand and looked down to the ring, and brought brushed his thumb over it. I looked as he did so, expecting to see the usual ring on his long finger as well, but did not.

"Why do you have a torture chamber, Erik?" I asked all of a sudden. It was just another thought I had... "You said you wanted to be normal and normal people... don't have that... Or even know about one."

"The world is cruel," He began acidly, "I don't enjoy killing people, but it's in my own self defense, dear... surely you must understand why..."

"That wouldn't be first on my mind for self defense, but okay," I muttered dryly, and looked to him, "Will you not kill again, then? For me?"

"I'll try."

"Promise me, then!" I said more intensely.

"Christine-"

"Promise," I pressed further, furrowing my brow, gripping his hand tightly.

"For you... I promise," He sighed, his shoulders rising than falling, and I watched every crucial movement he made, for I found it interesting that he portrayed what he was even thinking through his motives and gestures.

"Good," I breathed out, looking back down to his hand and played it between my fingers.

"I love you, Christine," He whispered in my ear... almost seductive.

"I love you, Erik," I muttered, still looking down to our hands.

"Will you sing for me?" He asked sounding very childlike still, almost convincing me with his voice.

"Not right now," I replied, "I'm kind of tired."

"It is getting late, isn't it?" He asked, and got up, but I was still holding his hand, looking at it as if it was the one speaking. I didn't let go, and he looked questioningly to me. It was positively the most oddest look I think he ever pulled off around me and I had to restrain a laugh.

"Will you sing to me?" I asked, pulling him closer. "I want to forget if not for a moment." I explained, and he sat at the edge of my bed as I leaned back into the pillow, he brought the sheets up to my chin, and looked down to me, and began to sing for me a lullaby, almost similar to the piece I played for him earlier. My hand was still holding his, and I pulled him closer as long as I remained conscious with his voice like a drug, so that he was practically laying next to me on the bed. He seemed uncomfortable but at the same time utterly content, his hand making its way through my hair once more. It was pleasant, not comfortable, but I fell asleep despite, for he was happy and it was all I could ever ask for is to see him happy for once.

The next few days were uneventful, both of us enjoying the other's company. He didn't show any signs of becoming ill once again, so there was a sense of beautiful contentment around the entire house which was a first. Not once did I forget about Raoul, though, he never escaped my mind. I longed to find out if he was recovering any better than he was three days ago, but I didn't dare to bring it up.

I asked if I would ever be able to perform again, and Erik said that I would be called if it was necessary, but only gave a hopeful wish for me to sing for him, for he was the one to grant me perfection. I didn't take it so harshly, for it was true and I owed him a few things still. I also asked if he thought he was recovering and he only shrugged simply.

The topic of cars even came up during one of our lengthy conversations, and it was excitable, but I didn't want him to get me something that big for I never was so thoroughly excited by large gifts. I knew Erik could afford it, but it just made me uncomfortable for some reason.

"I would like one," I shrugged, "But you don't have to get me one... I could work for it or... something like normal teenagers."

He gave an exasperated gesture, surprised, I suppose, "If you do not wish it, then never mind. It would just be something small... nothing too 'not normal' as you think it." He shrugged. It was another big step for him, to grant me even more freedom than ever, but I guess it was more of an understanding thing. It was odd, for he was technically the kidnapper here giving permission for his hostage to go about free but how dare I even think of it like this, when I want his company. Never mind... I should decide to not think in detail about these things anymore.

"It's a pride thing," I noted simply, bringing him out of his confusion.

"I suppose," He replied quietly. He should know...

We went out for walks at night, as we used to, but this time more intimate, sharing anecdotes, him actually giving me details on his past, the most interesting sort, of when he traveled the world and more unimaginable sorts of things, some funny, others not so much.

I told him what I could tell him about middle school and high school, and being in classes and such.

"Whoever doesn't have to suffer through those years are rather lucky... especially middle school. The worst three years of my life so far." I scoffed, wrapping my jacket closer around me, and shivered from the next breeze that overcame. Winter was quickly approaching, I knew, as leaves swirled around us, taken up by the wind. "Just beginning to know... things, and I was possibly the most awkward girl in most of the periods except for band and chorus, subjects I could have gone on and on about while making other people almost become green with envy. I was the only one in the music theory class to have a tutor at home... middle school was odd." I laughed to myself. I knew he was listening, for he asked me the question, so he simply nodded along with it, not able to compare. He probably never even knew stumbling over feet in gym class. "I also hated gym," I noted once more, rolling my eyes, "I was hit in the head with a basketball about three times in one class because I hated basketball and refused to do it..."

He coughed a hidden laugh, as if visualizing me falling over as well.

"I never had a boyfriend, though... my friend once clarified that no one was good enough for me for that's what I always made it seem... therefore, I was spitefully alone at the wretched eighth grade dance."

"That must have been terrible," He mused melodramatically.

"It was at the time!" I exclaimed. "If I ever met any of my friends again from back then they'd probably never have guessed where I am now," I mused myself.

"In Hell?" He asked, sounding more serious then I was intending for this matter to be. He must have taken all this all too much to heart.

"No, no..." I shook my head. "You know what? Forget it. I never brought it up. I don't enjoy remembering just as much as you. Let's change the topic."

I admit, looking back at all of our conversations, that none of them went smoothly and had their own quirky turns as one of us would take it too harshly and end the talk right then. It wasn't as nice as it was sharing things with Raoul... I swallowed that thought whole, trying to cover that thought with a blanket and pushed to the back of my mind though it never seemed to completely disappear as much as I wished it would.

Days turned into weeks.

I knew that Erik would ask for my hand soon... He never knew that he would be getting recovered so quickly, though he had a few small attacks that he only lost a little memory of the last few moments before losing consciousness. I believe, as days went by, he only became more and more anxious and moody and sure of losing me. Surely it must be a trait, being so unsure and insecure of himself that I might just go off in a poof of smoke. The poor man must have a heart attack every time I said goodnight to him and rolled over on the bed. He once told me that he thought he was in a dream, and I didn't have a reply to that, only shifted awkwardly.

One day, when Erik was entirely sure of himself, we went out to the city...

And in all the terrible things that I've been through these past months, nothing could have prepared me for what I faced in the most innocent of times.