Thank you for all the reviews, they were so inspiring! Here is the next chapter. Enjoy!

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber

Christine stood motionless, staring after Erik as he climbed the stairs, entered the bedroom and closed the door behind him. After a few moments Nadir walked back into the room, hands in his pockets, shoulders stiff in awkward consternation. Christine looked to him as he approached, mouth agape.

"He came back." Nadir stated after several uncomfortable moments under her scrutinizing gaze.

"He wouldn't even speak to me." Christine spoke as she walked over to the chair before the fire and sat, defeated. The past few hours had been torturous. He had left in a state such that she doubted whether or not he would return at all and each second had been agonizing. Was he safe? Was he alive? Who knew? She knew that anything could have befallen him while he was out in that storm but she could do nothing about it. She had to wait, powerless and helpless and hope that even if he did not return to her, that he was safe. That he had not starved to death, not frozen to death, not perished from his injuries and not been captured by the authorities or worse. Part of her hated him for putting her through that, for selfishly walking out because he either could not or did not want to deal with the reality of the situation. There had been many instances when she had found herself out of her mind with worry for this man, but this time had been the worst, because she knew that even if he could return to her, he might not want to.

Now he was back, he had safely returned and while she was incredibly relieved and beside herself with happiness, she could not embrace it at all. He was back but he did not wish to be because of what was said and he would not give her the chance to explain any of it.

She did not need to explain all of that to Nadir, he had witnessed each passing minute of her torment.

"I know." The man before her nodded and approached her.

"He looked terrible." Christine continued, somehow assuming that Nadir was following her internal monologue. "He was in no condition to leave as it was. What if he is unwell? He was no doubt wandering around in the wind all that time. God only knows where he went."

Nadir stared into the hearth before looking back at Christine. He knew then that he would have to tell her the truth.

"Christine… Erik wasn't wandering around." He began. Christine looked up at him. "He- he was in the stable."

"What are you saying?" She asked, her eyes narrowed. Nadir rubbed his neck awkwardly.

"I… found him. Before you even went into town, I found him there."

Christine looked down in disbelief before meeting his gaze once more, tears in her eyes.

"You mean to tell me that… all the time you knew where he was? You knew where he was, that he was out of danger and you did not tell me?"

"Not all the time. And please, Christine before you get upset, know that Erik made me promise! I could not betray him and break my word, surely you understand, caring for him like you do!"

"It is hardly betrayal, Monsieur. He is my fiancé!"

"I swore to him that I would not tell you because he wasn't sure what he wanted to do! He made me promise not to tell you that he was there but he was going to leave as soon as the storm eased! I had to convince him to stay or at least show his face! I am lying and I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I have always been on your side in this. I told him that he could not simply disappear! I told him! If it weren't for my words he may well have left there and then!"

Christine thought for a moment. Yes, what Nadir had done was terrible. She had been out of her mind with concern for Erik and the one person who had the ability to ease that, did not. But what if she chose to believe his words? Would Erik really be gone if Nadir had not found him first?

"Why should I believe you?"

"You have no grounds on which to disbelieve me. Everything I have done, I have done for the happiness of the two of you. I gain nothing from your trust or your forgiveness, but you needed to know the truth. I don't care what Erik thinks, you deserve that."

"So, he was the one who didn't want me to know." Christine began with a sigh. "Why?"

"Do not be hard on him, Mademoiselle. He is misguided in his decision-making and perhaps the way he deals with conflict… he always has been, but he loves you. Although he may deny it, I know it and so do you. He does not want to leave. He never did. I told him that he owes it to himself and to you to discuss what happened, and I still believe that. But… he is… very different, he is complex…"

"I know. Maybe I should just go to him."

"Christine, I cannot tell you what to do. Your relationship with Erik is just that, but from experience, if he has walked away and closed that door, he doesn't want you to open it, not yet."

"Maybe he doesn't have a choice."

Just as Christine rose to stand up, the bedroom door opened and Erik stepped out. Christine looked up at him. He looked awful; exhausted, pained, eyes heavy with emotion. He met her gaze briefly before setting his jaw and looking at Nadir.

"Daroga." He called over the weathered bannister. "Would you… heat some water for me? I wish to bathe." His tone was uneasy, awkward. His voice was coarse. Yes, ordinarily he would order his friend around but only in jest. Nadir knew that he would usually undertake such a task by himself if he was able, and if doing so did not involve speaking with Christine; addressing what he was avoiding.

Nadir looked to Christine.

"Erik…" She said softly. "Allow me?"

Again he met her gaze briefly before looking down.

"No thank you, Christine. I would not trouble you."

Nadir cringed as he watched Christine's face fall. He wanted to curse Erik for acting such a clod, but he understood his friend's actions, and after nodding reluctantly in compliance, allowed Erik to return to his room without speaking.

"I should go to him." Christine began after watching Nadir take the hot water to Erik and return downstairs. "Hey may need help…"

Nadir looked at Christine quizzically.

"With his wound." She continued.

"If it is your prerogative to help him, then be my guest, go and see him." He said with a smirk. "But I cannot be held responsible for what he says or does when he is like this… or at any time."

"It's just that… this is normally something I would help him with…" Erik would complain but eventually he would accede.

"Perhaps Christine, but he is easily insulted, and easily aggravated."

"I know." She rolled her eyes. "I am sure that he will be angry but… I'm going to do it anyway. I have to try to help, try to make him listen."

"Be my guest." Nadir smiled, a hint of sarcasm in his voice as he gestured toward the bedrooms. He sat down before the fire and prodded the coals absentmindedly. "You have more courage than I." He muttered.

Christine climbed the stairs and after taking a deep breath and collecting her thoughts, she knocked on Erik's door.

No response.

She knocked again.

"What is it?" Came his voice from within.

"It's me…" She said softly.

A moment of silence then he spoke, his voice; softened.

"Christine I am indisposed. I do not wish to talk."

"…But, Erik. I was just wondering if…"

"Please." He replied softly. His tone slightly irritated. Christine took another deep breath before turning the knob and opening the door.

He was indeed indisposed…

"Christine! What are you doing?" Erik asked indignantly, hastily turning away from her, spinning around to button his pants. She was faced with the scars on his back, some from wounds she had been present for. She wanted nothing more than to embrace him but she knew that the only thing he hated more than talking about his scars was pity, and that was when they were on speaking terms… He turned back around to face her.

Christine opened her mouth to speak but was quite distracted by what she saw. He was standing before her shirtless, stray droplets of water easing down his front…

"You- you should dress that." She said, finally meeting his gaze and pointing to the gunshot wound in his chest. "It is starting to bleed."

"You should not enter a room when someone is bathing!" He seethed, clearly more embarrassed than actually angry.

"Yes, well we are supposedly engaged, are we not? It should not matter."

"It matters. Have I no privacy in my own house?!"

"You have whatever you wish. I just thought you might need help!"

"I don't."

"Why are you being like this!"

"I am being like this because you walked in on me dressing."

"And so what? You know very well what I mean."

Erik took a deep breath before sitting down on the bed and running a towel over his sparse hair, attempting to dry what he could without aggravating his wound.

"I don't need help." He repeated.

"Clearly." She said with a sarcastic smirk. "Are you going to dress that?" She asked, pointing to his wound once more.

"Perhaps." He replied with half a shrug. "Perhaps not." Christine rolled her eyes.

"I was worried about you."

"And for that, I apologise." He said, standing up and throwing the towel on the bed. "But I don't wish to discuss anything else."

"Well it is not all about you!"

"Is my bag still downstairs?" He asked without looking at her. "I'd like to fetch a clean shirt."

"Yes, it is. Why are you being so cold with me?"

Erik walked toward her and stood towering over her. She was certain that he was standing closer than he needed to and his proximity was intoxicating. More so given his state of undress…

"Excuse me." He said. She was certain that if he had wanted to get past, he could have.

"Maybe you don't want to discuss anything just yet but you don't have to treat me like I am nothing to you."

At this, he looked down at her and stepped closer.

"Christine, you are everything to me. Please, let me pass."

Christine sighed and obliged, stepping aside before following him down the stairs.

"If that is true then how could you just leave me?" She asked, watching him as he rummaged through his bag and with great difficulty slipped a white shirt on from within. She couldn't help but find herself slightly disappointed as he did so, in spite of her frustration with him.

"Have you any food?" He asked, ignoring her.

"In the kitchen, you infuriating man! Can you not answer me?! I want to help you! Why are you treating me like a stranger?"

"I cannot do this now." He said as he walked into the kitchen. "I am exhausted and…"

"So you will do it later?"

"I… don't know." He said uneasily, taking a hearty bite out of a bread roll he had found on the countertop. "No."

"Why can't you just face your problems?"

"What did you say to me?"

"I-I only meant… our problems"

"Face my problems." He repeated with a sad smile. "That is hurtful."

"Erik, you know I did not mean it like that! I would never say something like that about… what you have been through."

He stared at the piece of bread in his hand while speaking.

"If you see Nadir, would you be so kind as to tell him that he can have his room back soon? I need to rest for a few hours, but by nightfall he shall have it back."

"Why don't you sleep in your room, with me?"

"I don't think that appropriate, Christine." With an awkward glance, he left the kitchen and walked back upstairs. Christine stood in the kitchen for a moment longer, tears welling up in her eyes. Then, after picking at some of the fruit she had just bought, she did the same and closed the door.

"Daroga." Erik spoke as he walked down the stairs later that night. He searched the room with his eyes briefly only to find that his friend was the only one to be seen. "Where is Christine?"

"In her room as you were." His friend replied. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Erik snapped. "I came to tell you that you could have the bedroom back. I will be satisfied with the living room for the night. I just couldn't be out here with…"

"I know." Nadir replied. "But you should talk to her."

"Well, the day I begin taking advice from you is…"

"Yes, because you are of sound mind and I am not?" He smirked.

Erik frowned at his friend as he sat down beside him on the sofa.

"Lighten up." Nadir began, standing up. "I am for bed, then. If you are quite done sulking in there?"

"Yes, quite done." Erik sneered.

"If you need a blanket there is still one in my bag…" He offered.

"No. The fire will suffice." He replied as he stared into it.

"Erik." Nadir called from the bottom of the stairs. Erik looked at him. "Talk to her."

"Mind your own business Daroga."

"Oh, that is a nice way to speak to someone who has saved your life on more than one occasion?"

"Oh, and you think that gives you the right to irritate me whenever you wish? Do enjoy angering me?"

"You were born angry." Nadir smirked as he climbed the stairs. "Good night."

Erik didn't reply, simply stared into the fire as he lay down and closed his eyes.

It had been an hour and Erik couldn't find sleep. The couch was unbearably lumpy and he was beginning to feel severely overheated. Irritated, he slipped his shirt off and sat up. He hardly ever slept in a shirt as he had the tendency to overheat during the night. Perhaps that was why he had been able to survive the cellars of the Opera for so long.

The Opera… It seemed like another world away.

Christine…

He needed to see her, needed to look upon her, indulge in her beauty and purity one final time. He had wanted to embrace her then more than ever before, wanted to forget what had transpired and simply immerse himself in her, lose himself in her. But he could not. All he could do was simply look, watch as he had always done.

Look but not touch.

He wrung his hands before standing and beginning to pace before the fire. He needed an excuse, a reason in case he had to speak to her. The mask. He had left one of his masks up there hadn't he? Even if he hadn't, he could lie. What was he doing? This was wrong, wasn't it? If it was then why did the prospect of drawing nearer to her fill him with such joy?

He padded up the stairs, staring at the bedroom door as he went. Upon approaching the door he could see that it was in fact slightly open. He stood to the side of it and peered through the small crack. He could indeed see a mask on the floor near the bed. Perfect. He was about to place his hand on the doorknob when it swung open. Immediately he stepped backward. Christine had emerged, rubbing her eyes and yawning. She looked so beautiful. Erik's stomach lurched at the thought of leaving her, the thought of a life without her.

He took several quiet steps backward, in the direction of his mother's room where Nadir slept. Perhaps if he could slink into the shadows he would remain unseen, and he would not have to speak with her. He took a step, then another, then another, but on the fourth, the old floorboards beneath him betrayed him and creaked under his weight. Some Phantom he was. He cursed himself. How could he have forgotten? This was the one floorboard that had always gotten him into trouble in this house.

Christine's eyes darted to where the sound had come from and at once she saw him.

He had removed his bandages, apparently of his own accord and stood before her, naked from the waist up. She had seen his body before, of course she had, only today she had seen it but tonight the sight before her filled her with a strong sense of yearning and she could not help but stare. In the darkness she could still make out his injuries; his shoulder wound, still not dressed, and his bruised side looking worse than she had remembered. When she had last looked upon him his body had been littered with various other bruises, various other scars, but tonight she could not see them. In spite of the grief she felt at looking upon her fiancé's battered form, there was a burning deep down inside of her that she could not deny. The planes of his body seemed to be complimented perfectly, both by the small amount of moonlight that had entered the house and the warm fire-light streaming up through the bannisters of the railing beside him.

He studied her as she stared at him.

"Christine." He said softly, more a statement than a question. Someone had to speak first.

"I-I was thirsty." Christine stammered.

Erik gave a slight nod, glancing down at his body briefly to see what Christine was so fascinated by and suddenly feeling slightly self-conscious.

"Why are you here?" She asked, looking up to meet his gaze.

Why indeed?

"Excuse me?"

"I mean to say…" She began. "Upstairs. Why are you upstairs?"

Erik scratched his chest absentmindedly.

"I too was thirsty."

"The kitchen is downstairs." She stated.

"Yes." How foolish of him. "Perhaps I sleep walked." He added with the ghost of a smirk. He looked down awkwardly, making to fold his arms across his chest but deciding against it at the last minute due to the pain.

"Are you in pain?" She asked.

"I came up here to retrieve my other mask. I believe I left it in my- in your room." He answered, changing the subject, saying the line as if it had been rehearsed.

Christine raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, you did. Why do you need it at this hour?"

I have no idea.

You look so beautiful.

This was a mistake.

"I… I like to keep them with me." He swallowed hard. Surely she would see through him. "May I have it?" He made to push past her.

"Wait, Erik."

"No, Christine. I don't wish to discuss anything. I just came for…"

"Why?"

"Why what?" He asked, looking down at her confusedly.

"Why wont you discuss anything?"

He sighed. This was the last thing he wanted.

"Because it is for the best."

"The best for whom?" She argued. "We need to sort things out!"

"The best for you!" He spat. It came out as a shouted whisper.

"Don't you want me?" She asked, on the verge of tears.

"It isn't that simple, my love."

Christine's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Why do you call me that? Why do you call me that if I mean nothing to you?"

"You mean everything to me! God, can't you see that?!"

"Then why did you leave? Why did you say those things?!"

Erik sighed and frowned.

"Do you wish for me to go?" He argued childishly.

"Don't threaten me. Answer me."

"Oh yes, like I am so accustomed to doing. Isn't that right? I threaten people, isn't that right?"

"Erik."

"It's what you said!"

"You said some things too!" She shot, blinking back tears.

"Christine." He sighed again. "I don't wish to argue."

"Then why are you turning this into an argument?"

"I simply cannot deal with this! I cannot stand here and tell you that I wish to leave, that I do not love you! I cannot voice such lies! But I must leave you! Why can't you understand that?"

"You cannot deal with this!? You cannot deal with me? Explain! Please!"

"That is not what I said."

"That is not fair, Erik. Not fair at all."

Erik stared past her, his gaze wandered downstairs briefly before resting on the floor.

"Chris…"

"Do you not love me?" She asked, stepping closer to him.

"Christine… I…"

"Answer me."

He pursed his lips and refused to meet her gaze. His eyes were welling with tears. Tears he wished she couldn't see. Again, his stomach lurched with the agonising thought of losing her.

"Erik."

He was doing everything he could not to let the tears fall but when one did, he did not wipe it. At last he met her gaze.

"I just came to get my mask." He offered weakly, one last attempt at escape from her question.

"Do you love me? Tell me that you don't love me, Erik."

He looked down once more. Two more tears fell but he would not cry. His jaw was set as he looked at her again.

"Do you love me?"

"Yes." He said, his voice faltering. "Of course I do. I've told you that I do. More than you could ever comprehend. I always have and I always will. How could you not know that, Christine?" He breathed, exhaling finally, not realising he had been holding his breath.

"Say it to me, then!

"That is why I must leave. Say what?"

"You don't have to leave!" She reasoned, taking hold of his arm. He shook her off. "Say that you love me!"

"I can't discuss this now." He said, making to push past her again.

"Wait!" She commanded, standing in front of him with her hand on his chest. How she had missed touching him. His skin was so warm and inviting. She stared at her hand where it lay and began caressing his skin with her thumb.

"Christine, don't do this." He began softly.

At first she hadn't known what he meant. She wasn't doing anything? The realisation hit her as she saw that she was now using no force at all to keep him in place. He was simply standing there of his own volition, eyes closed. She was aware of the power she had over him, perhaps she had simply forgotten.

"Don't leave, Erik." She said.

Slowly, she ran an index finger down his front, beginning at the centre of his chest. Erik shivered in pained delight as her finger ran down the sensitive flesh of his stomach and over his navel, down the light trail of hair that led her to where she aimed to be… only stopping at the waistband of his trousers. There, it lingered. Erik shivered once more.

"Christine… please…" He breathed. He was frozen to the spot, arms at his sides. He couldn't let her control him like this. Not when he had become so decided on his course of action to take with her.

Without her.

"Please what?" She asked, feigning innocence.

Please what? Please stop this torment. Do not make it harder for me. Please release me from your spell and allow me to escape your maddening caresses.

"Please, don't- "

His words were cut short and he inhaled sharply as her finger trailed across his stomach, just along the waistband of his trousers. It moved back and forth as she stared at him.

"Christine…" He breathed, an attempt at protestation.

She was teasing him. Teasing him in a way that was both the cruellest, and the most delicious he had ever endured. He was all too aware of his arousal, becoming more and more visible the longer she held him there. He hated that she would have to look upon such a thing when they had spent such little time exploring their feelings and discussing their future. He was ashamed and yet he wanted her to see. After all this time he wanted her to touch. He needed it.

It would have been only too easy to have slipped a shirt on beforehand but he had neglected to do so, and now he had found himself in quite a mess. What was she doing? Why was she tormenting him like this? Didn't she understand that what she wanted could not happen?

Or could it?

Finger following the same course, Christine lazily drew it to his hip before pulling it back around to his front in a swift movement. He let out a breathy laugh before shivering and almost falling as his hands came to rest against the wall of the corridor, arms stretched out before him, unintentionally cornering Christine. He closed his eyes again but did nothing to stop Christine's actions.

"Sorry." She smiled, momentarily forgetting herself and the game she was playing with him. Forgetting about the rift between them.

He smiled in response, eyes still closed.

"Does this feel good?" She probed.

He nodded with a frown.

"Yes."

That is why I am trapped here at the mercy of your fingers.

He was speaking to her, actually answering her and he wasn't being curt or distant. She brought her hands to his sides; slowly trailing her nails up the smooth skin he had offered her.

"No, don't-" He began, laughter bubbling up in his throat. "That's too much." Apparently shaken out of his reverie, Erik opened his eyes and took hold of Christine's wrists in order to prevent her from causing him any further torment. "What are you doing?" He asked, opening his eyes, the smile leaving his voice.

"Just touching you." She offered.

"But why…?" He asked, still holding her wrists, his eyes just as pained as they were that night below the Opera.

"Because I wish to." She said softly, wriggling free of his grasp and placing her hands on the small of his back. Her fingers began working the same magic there.

"I can't, Christine I can't. Please let me leave."

"I am not holding you here."

"You are. You know that you are. You know exactly what you are doing to me."

Christine pulled him closer.

"If you wished to leave, you would have."

"Yes." He answered softly.

"So, is this so wrong?" She asked, gently pulling him into an embrace. He turned away, peering into the darkness so that he would not have to look upon her.

"I can't be here." He answered, placing his hands upon the wall again for fear of forgetting himself and embracing her.

"Do you wish to be anywhere else?" She asked, bringing a hand up to trace his jaw and run down his neck. She smiled when she saw his skin break out in gooseflesh as a result.

"No." He answered, distracted. Of course he didn't. Not really.

"And do you really wish to leave?"

"No."

"Erik."

"Yes, Christine."

"Kiss me."

He turned to her, a sad smile forming across his lips.

"No Christine. No, I-I can't." With that he stepped backward and looked down once more. Christine sighed, frustrated.

"Why did you come up? Don't tell me that it was for the mask, because it wasn't!"

"I don't know." He answered. "I- I had to see you."

"You wanted to see me." She corrected.

"Yes..."

"Erik." She repeated, gently reaching up and turning his face toward hers. He met her gaze, and what she saw was the same innocent longing she had seen those many nights ago…

"Yes, Christine." He breathed.

"Kiss me…"

Please let me know what you think as always