Chapter 18: Confessions

Erik stood frozen, his face rigid and unmoving, his brow scrunching in confusion, in panic, and in anger. His eyes burned with heated angst as they glanced dumbstruck at Christine's hand, reaching out. He didn't dare meet her own burning green eyes. The knot of nausea in his stomach began morphing into an entity with snarling teeth and sharp claws, scratching and scraping and digging upwards to his throat where it shredded and slashed at his voice, causing a choked gasp for air. The monster within begging to unleash its fury upon everyone within reach. His eyes quickly jumped from Raoul to Meg then back to Raoul, then to Meg again. Raoul and Meg suddenly sensed extreme danger, shoulders and bodies cowering and sinking away from Erik, as the threat of violence loomed dangerously upon an unstable threshold, eyes wide with panic.

"Miss Daae, what an absolutely pleasant surprise to see you!" Dr. Marrenesco's jovial voice broke through the dangerously thick tension with a palpable calmness. "How is it that you know our Erik?"

Erik immediately closed his eyes while breathing and swallowing down the vicious monster threatening to erupt. His body jerked suddenly, as if forcing it back behind the barriers of memories and remembering the woman before him. "Dr. Marrenesco, it's very nice to see you again," he heard Christine's oddly calm voice greet his mentor. Erik's mind worked fitfully trying to piece these past seconds together, trying to make sense of the utter chaos swirling inside.

"Nikolai, if you please. I trust the pianos you procured have found a lovely home with you?" Nikolai reached to shake Christine's hand in greeting. The pianos? She's the one who took them?

"Yes, sir, they have. I thank you again for your advocacy with Dean Piangi…" she couldn't finish her sentence as the overly boisterous and thick Italian-accented Piangi and the shrill voice of Carlotta rang forth from the outer boundary of the backyard.

"Nikolai! Erik! Hello guests! May I introduce my lovely wife, Carlotta Giudicelli," Piagni broadcasted overly grandiose so as everyone could hear.

"Hello, hello, yes I am here. Grazi!" Carlotta chimed in at a stereotypical prima donna entrance. For once, Erik welcomed the arrival of this pair, as he shot a hardened stare at Meg and Raoul.

"You two, a word. Now," Erik growled as he balled his fist around the short sleeve of Raoul's shirt and dragged him inside with Meg in toe, through the dining room, through the sitting room, up the stairs, and threw him into the guest room. The door slammed and rattled the panes of the bedroom windows. Meg and Raoul stood completely still, heads hung like two children about to get punished. Erik's back remained taut and rigid, his ragged, uneven breaths coursing the fury through his veins. "What do you have to say for yourselves?" A heavy silence. Not an uttered word to pierce it. "What have you meddling, vindictive fools done?" Erik's voice grew increasingly louder with each word.

Raoul grabbed Meg's hand in reassurance and opened the bedroom door and uttered a simple sentence, "Bringing you back to life." The pair turned and left, gently closing the door behind them and went back outside to the party, leaving Erik dumbstruck and speechless. After what seemed like an eternity, Erik collapsed to his knees, his long arms hanging lifelessly upon his thighs, sweat beading on his brow, his breathing coming out in staggered, quiet sobs as his tears freely fell. Bringing you back to life. Raoul's words echoed in his ears. Bringing you back to life. At what cost? Did it mean he would have to die all over again in bonds of tragedy only to be reborn today into more heartache?

God only knows the amount of time that had passed since the confrontation. Minutes, or hours, or only mere seconds, when a quiet knock broke Erik from the memories and thoughts spiralling out of control in his brain. "Erik, it's Meg," she said as she cautiously opened the door. "I'm sorry to intrude, but…"

"A little late for that, isn't it?" he toned littered with sarcasm.

Meg swallowed hard, "I understand. However, your absence grows increasingly noticed. Come back outside." Meg backed away but kept the door ajar. The longest evening of Erik's life was about to begin.

Reappearing outside, the warm sun was blinding. It was hot and a warm breeze blew as Erik felt the waves of heat upon his face, his eyes closed as he took a deep, steadying breath; he inhaled a familiar, beautiful scent, of lavender and rose water. He glanced in the direction upon hearing a beautiful laugh, only to find Christine chatting with Dr. Marrenesco, and My God she is stunning. Almost as if she could actually hear his thoughts, her eyes locked onto his. Christine was immediately transported back to the first time she ever saw his face, the night she gaped and gasped in shock and surprise at not just the white half mask upon his face but the hypnotizing crystal blue waters of his eyes. She could drown forever in his eyes. "Excuse me for a minute, Nikolai," she said politely and made to stand up but much too quickly. And as happened so many times before, the sudden full weight placed on her leg sent pain shooting through her leg and caused her knee to buckle under her. Her hand shot out to regain her balance. Erik's eyes never left their locked gaze as he watched in horror. She usually seemed so much more graceful.

"Good heavens, Miss Daae, are you quite alright?" Nikolai asked rather concerned.

Christine flushed in embarrassment as her eyes inventoried the other concerned looks upon her. She closed her eyes to almost will them to stop staring, "Yes, I'm fine, sir. Thank you. Excuse me." She looked up to see Erik's eyes boring into her, heated and concerned and glossed over in a tinge of sadness. She hobbled slightly and brushed past Erik, suddenly not wanting to acknowledge his existence. God only knows what he thought of her in this moment. Christine sped through the kitchen towards the bathroom and quickly closed the door.

She wanted the tears to stop pooling in her eyes. She tried to will her lips and chin from quivering. Her resolve from just three hours earlier, the gumption she had conjured deep within upon getting out of the truck and walking up to the house was quickly dissolving. He was here. He was here in the flesh. And he couldn't have cared less. Doesn't he remember? He doesn't remember. You only imagined him wanting you. He's moved on. You're too damaged. Damaged. Scarred. Ruined. Damaged. Done. She heaved out stifled sobs with each word. Her anxiety began coursing uncomfortable heat through her body. Sweat beading on her brow, perspiration matting her heavy curls to her neck. She slipped the hair tie from her wrist and pulled her hair into a bun and turned on the water. The coldness shocked her hot skin as she splashed water on her face and neck. She glanced up hesitantly and looked back at her reflection. The sun had already started giving her skin a summer's kiss of color, causing the white scars to pop out even more exaggerated. Her went fingers began tracing one scar from the hairline of her brow down to her temple. She raised her other hand, water droplets lingering cold kisses upon her fingertips as they traced the smaller glass-cut scars on her jaw, down her neck, along the lines of her shoulder. Damaged and scarred. Battered. Bruised. She closed her eyes as she let out a final sigh, "I cried for you." Drying her face, Christine pulled down her hair and tactfully placed strands of hair in front of her scars to serve as her own mask to hide behind.

"There you are!" Meg said as she jogged up to Christine. "I wanted to introduce you to my parents and also Raoul's parents." She took Christine's hand and led her to the de Chagnys and then to her parents. "Christine, this is my mom, Anna, and my dad, Jacques. Mom, Dad? This is my best friend Christine."

Mrs. Giry positively beamed and hugged Christine hard, "It is wonderful to finally meet you, sweet girl. My Meg absolutely raves about you. You are a vision, sweetie, but you need some meat on your bones."

Meg rolled her eyes and laughed, "I should have warned you: mom wants nothing more than to feed EVERYONE. Don't be surprised if she tries to cook you dinners and overtake your refrigerator with leftovers. It's amazing Raoul and I don't weigh a combined 700 pounds."

Christine smiled into Anna's embrace, it was warm and comforting. It was the embrace of a mother, and Christine felt at home in this woman's arms. "It's nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Giry," Christine breathed in the motherly warmth.

"You have two options: you either call me Anna or Mama Giry. Sweet Erik calls me that and I find it endearing. Just don't ask what Raoul calls me after all these years," Mrs. Giry said with a wink at Raoul. Now she could see where Meg got her warmness from, but as with how the entire afternoon had been, Christine felt Erik's burning eyes starting at her with every movement she made.

After everyone had eaten themselves to their content and the wine and spirits began to mellow the mood, the musicians came to life. Romantic stories of lives of traveling orchestras, composers, and personal exploits rang through the night air. The sun quickly set and the fire pit was ablaze as one by one everyone pulled up a chair to roast marshmallows for s'mores. The flow of rich red wine warmed hearts and heated passion within the underbellies of the couples in attendance.

A large, firm hand landed gently on Erik's shoulder. Raoul Sr. had motioned to Erik to join him a little ways from the growing company at the fire pit. Erik followed closely behind with piqued curiosity. "I've observed your behavior this afternoon, Erik. I can only speculate your tension is from the attendance of one young woman."

Erik felt very exposed. The last heart to heart he and Raoul Sr. had was Christmas evening, while Erik hesitantly shared his sketches of Christine. "I , uh, I apologize, sir. I'm not sure of what you speak:"

"Oh come now, Erik! I recognized that woman immediately from your sketches. And I've observed you the entire afternoon." Erik felt his face glow red with embarrassment. "Dear lad, you've been a ball of nerves ever since you've laid eyes on her. Go to her, talk to her."

"I don't know how to, Mr. de Chagny. I don't know what to say," Erik said heavy with regret. This wasn't how this day was supposed to go.

"Yes you do. Speak to her the best you know how: with your music. Give her your music, son." Erik looked surprised. This always formal man who very rarely showed a human moment was actually giving him loving advice to win a woman's heart. Soon the sound of strumming guitar strings broke these men from their conversation as Dr. Marrenesco began singing an old Romanian folk song from his childhood. Raoul Sr and Erik walked over towards the group around the fire pit. Each couple paired up together with their respective spouses or significant others as the music cast its magical spell. Through the dancing yellow flames of the fire, a cool night breeze swirled and cooled their faces. Erik sat directly across from Christine. He felt a sense of peace emitting from her and she was immersed in a beautiful glow. The flames catching glistening sparkles of the green of her eyes turning them a rich emerald. Eyes of jewels. He never really noticed them before, how deep and intense they were. Christine felt Erik's eyes and glanced up at him and attempted a shy grin. Her grin, however, must have come off sad and nervous as Erik quickly looked away. The way he stared at her made her heart race and her blood boil with some unknown feeling. It was nothing she had ever felt before. And it was a look that she had never seen. Kevin's glances were of possession, of obsession, of vile lust. Erik's was different. It was as if he were on a maiden voyage to discover everything about her: every thought, every feeling, everything about music she breathed to life.

"Erik, would you sing for us?" Nikolai asked as he passed the guitar to Erik, breaking him of his inner thoughts. "We've all been two years without that voice of yours. And I'm sure Ms. Daae would like to hear you sing for the first time." Christine almost let an audible chuckle escape her throat, but she quickly stifled it. If only they knew what I have heard before. What we had made together. "Oh, uh, I don't think I could tonight," Erik stammered through an excuse.

"Sing, Erk," Raoul said. Erik shook his head in almost disbelief. After all that had unfolded this afternoon with this party and the an the unbelievable arrival of Christine, this guy had the audacity to voice a command. The affirmation of other voices resounded within the group as they all gave a unified consensus. Erik nestled the guitar in his lap, feeling Christine's eyes staring at him intently. He felt exposed under her gaze. Something inside him shifted as his body craved the familiar feeling of making music for her, with her.

You're beautiful so silently

It lies beneath a shade of blue

It struck me so violently

When I looked at you

But others pass, they never pause,

To feel that magic in your hand

To me you're like a wild rose

They never understand why

I cried for you

When the sky cried for you

And when you went

I became a hopeless drifter

But this life was not for you

Though I learned from you,

That beauty need only be a whisper

Everyone sat spellbound and breathless. Finally Erik looked at Christine and shyly smiled. How he missed giving her the gift of his music and voice.

I'll cross the sea for a different world,

With your treasure, a secret for me to hold

In many years they may forget

This love of ours or that we met,

They may not know

how much you meant to me.

Christine felt something shift in her as well. The all too familiar feeling infiltrated her senses. She was transported to the many late evenings in the music building, listening to Erik serenade her, singing along with him. Without even realizing, she ever so steadily stood and walked cautiously toward the vacant chair next to Erik. Tears threatening to escape. Her voice joined with Erik's in a beautiful harmony and there was an audible intake of breath when their voices joined together.

I cried for you

And the sky cried for you,

And when you went

I became a hopeless drifter.

But this life was not for you,

Though I learned from you,

That beauty need only be a whisper

Without you now I see,

How fragile the world can be

And I know you've gone away

But in my heart you'll always stay.

I cried for you

And the sky cried for you,

And when you went

I became a hopeless drifter.

But this life was not for you,

Though I learned from you,

That beauty need only be a whisper,

That beauty need only be a whisper.

There was utter silence as Erik and Christine finished their song, staring intensely at each other as the familiar feeling of making music together overcame them. It wasn't until the hiss and pop from the firewood drew the others from the magic they had just witnessed into a thunderous applause. "My dear Miss Daae, how on earth are you NOT in the music program?! The two of you are a force to be reckoned with!" exclaimed Nikolai excitedly. Could Christine be his next music protege, or better yet: could she be Erik's?

"Her voice is just ok," chimed in Carlotta rather annoyed and under her breath. She was only jealous and envious of the raw talent, perhaps a threat to be dealt with. "Her voice was masked by the guitar, very easy to get drowned out with such a meager voice."

Christine immediately blushed with embarrassment and began cowering away back into the shadows. "Madam, I can assure you just as the sun rises, Christine has the voice of an angel," Erik snapped back and shot a look at Christine, words wanting to tumble out shouting his love and wanting to fall at her feet to beg for forgiveness. Carlotta scoffed and quickly grabbed Dean Piangi with an excuse it was getting late and they had to prepare for greater things for the holiday. Shortly thereafter a few others began to say their goodbyes and well wishes for a pleasant holiday weekend before the first summer session was to begin in another week.

Meg, Raoul, Erik and Christine stayed around the fire pit with Dr. Marrenesco and his wife. Thes rest of the company had departed. It was inching ever so closer to 11:30PM before Nikolai bid a good evening. Erik got up to escort his mentor to their car. "Well Erik, I am most happy to have you back for good. Let's get started first thing next week. I'd love to hear how your symphony has taken shape," Nikolai said with a firm handshake and taking his guitar from Erik, and a quick hug before adding, "That young woman up there… she's something special, isn't she?" And Nikolai winked. "Go get her, lad… she hasn't been able to keep her eyes off you all evening." Erik again felt heat rising to his face and his heart beat wildly in his chest. As he and Nikolai bid goodnight, Erik remained in the dark driveway, wrestling internally with what to do. All the guests had departed, and now it was just the four of them. And suddenly the questione hit him hard: did Christine actually know who she was really with? Did she know about Meg and Raoul, or were they being just as deceitful with her as they were with him? The whole situation was damnable, but what to do? Suddenly a bright flash of lightning lit the sky and a loud crack of thunder echoed on the horizon. A few drops began falling to the earth, opening the sounds and smells of a summer's night storm. The storm looming within Erik, however, had been raging all afternoon.

Upon arriving in the backyard, Erik found that most of the party items were back inside. By the time he grabbed the remaining items from the picnic table, the rain was falling more steady and the thunder was getting louder with the approaching storm. Erik came inside to the sounds of Raoul and Meg tying up trash bags and Christine rinsing dishes and loading up the dishwasher. She was humming quietly to herself. Erik walked over to the sink and stood awkwardly with a few plates and cups in his hands. Christine turned from the dishwasher and let out an audible gasp to find Erik so close. She watched his mouth open as if to say something, anything, but he quickly clamored the dishes onto the countertop next to the sink. Christine watched him carefully as Erik was immediately by Raoul's side. She couldn't hear much with clarity except one clipped phrase, "We need to talk. Upstairs. Now." And she watched as Erik and Raoul disappeared upstairs to the guest rooms. Her eyes moved over to Meg, who gave an awkward smile, trying to mask how nervous she truly was. This whole was completely out of sorts, and the only ones to blame were her and Raoul. Meg turned her attention back to cleaning up as Christine tried to wrap her mind around the events of the afternoon and evening. What could she even say? How was she going to say it? How could she possibly confront all of them? Did Erik know this whole time? Why hadn't he said anything to her? Why would he go to such great lengths to avoid her? Was it that he was simply as dumbfounded as she was, or was it that she had simply imagined all this time that he felt anything at all towards her? Her attention turned back to the dishwasher.

Upstairs, Erik and Raoul stood facing each other, the tension palpable. Erik didn't even know where to begin or what to say; whether to completely lash out or to crumble under the weight of the most surreal events of the day? Raoul stood patiently, calmly, waiting. Finally Erik spoke. "Why have you brought her here? I don't understand how any of this could possibly be real. What on earth possessed you two to take my life into your hands and attempt to manage it? Haven't I been through enough? I thought you were different."

With a heavy, steadying sigh, Raoul assumed the defense, "Erik, I love you. Meg loves you. Our parents love you. In just the few years I've known you, you've become more of a brother to me than Phillip ever has been, or ever could be for that matter. I've watched and witnessed the pain of your past stagnate you, forever haunting you, forever keeping you from truly living life. The first time you ever heard Christine, I noticed an immediate change in you - for the better. For the first time, you breathed and exuded life and happiness. And for the first time, I saw you truly smile. Something changed in you that night; Meg and I both saw it. My parents saw it; and for my dad to even talk to me about it, or anything at all for that matter, is truly something magnificent. I know you don't want to hear it, but Erik, this is all part of God's plan for you and your life, and I…"

"Again, you incessantly bring up some omnipotent being that doesn't exist! Why are you doing this? WHY?!"

The bonds of brotherhood and love rocked and moved in Raoul's soul, and for the first time since asking Meg to marry him, he actually felt tears pooling in his eyes. "Have you not heard a word I just said?" Frustration mounting. "I swear, Erik, I love you but you're too stubborn for your own good. When that girl… young woman gracefully appeared into your life, you changed. I saw you change. Meg saw you change. You were different, and for once you seemed hopeful for the future instead of terrorizing yourself internally with this war. I know what you've done in the past, I know what you did. God knows what you did. You know what you did. But that's all it is: it's in the past. And right now, in this house, your future is HERE, NOW. And she's downstairs washing dishes, masking behind God only knows what her own turmoil has been; but she's here, right now… she's an arm's length away. You've found her, Erik. And she's found you! And I swear if you screw this up, you will never forgive yourself. You let this moment pass without as much as acknowledging her, you are never going to live with yourself. She won't care what you've done. You saved her life, Erik. And as God as my witness, I know this much is true…" Raoul took a steadying breath and stamped out three poignant words, "SHE. SAVED. YOURS." Movement in the hallway immediately caused both men to go completely still and quiet as they watched Christine pick up her bag from her room, a bath towel in hand as she made her way back down the steps for a shower.

"Well I think we're all cleaned up. Thank you, Chrissie, for all your help!"

"No problem. Listen, is it ok if I grab a quick shower?"

"Of course, top of the steps to the left is the other guest room. I put a towel and washcloth up there for you. Do you need any shampoo or anything?"

"No, I'm fine. I have stuff in my bag, but thanks." Christine exited the kitchen and made her way up the steps. The sound of Raoul's low but urgent voice struck her as she quietly and slowly moved up towards the top landing outside the guest rooms. And that's when she heard it "she saved yours." So he didn't know, did he? Erik didn't know she'd be here. Otherwise, things would have been so completely different, wouldn't it? The thoughts and questions swirled in Christine's head and she was swimming and almost drowning in the question of what happens now? Will he say something to me? What will he say? What will he do? What am I going to say? What should I be saying to him? The creak of the wood floor drew unwanted attention, and Raoul's voice became immediately quiet. She had to pretend she didn't hear anything. Everything within its own time. She quickly rummaged through her bag for her pajamas and toiletries, grabbed her bath towel and washcloth and scurried down the stairs as quick as possible.

Christine closed the door behind her and turned on the water. Her hands shaking uncontrollably. They were talking about her. She was the object of their conversation. What did Raoul mean by "she saved you"? She carefully undressed as steam began building from behind the shower curtain. Pulling down her skirt, she felt a familiar sharp pain cascade down her leg and around her knee. She had spent way too much time on her feet and the tension building in her body wasn't helping. She stood in front of the bathroom mirror and again stared back at her reflection. She glanced down at her leg to see the long white scar from the surgery, the inserting of rods and pins and plates to reset the bone. Her eyes made their way down the length of her torso, she was too thin. Her ribs too protruding. Her breasts and skin were not as supple as years ago. She simply felt like a skeleton, a shell of her former self. She looked sickly, almost like the undead. She closed her eyes and somehow was transported back to that horrific night. The disappointment and hurt she felt when Erik didn't show for their anticipated meeting. The feeling of Kevin's vice grip upon her arms, his hot, angry breath upon her skin as he pushed her into the car. She couldn't stop the tears as she climbed into the shower. The smell of her lavender soap filled her senses as she wanted to wash and scrub away the memories.

A few moments later, Christine emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of linen shorts and a tank top. She moved around the corner to head towards the stairs when she almost bumped into an unsuspecting Erik coming around the opposite corner. Their eyes briefly met but in the glow of a tableside lamp, Erik's eyes roved to the very pronounced scars on the side of Christine's face, her jaw, her neck, down to her shoulders. And finally, he caught side of the puckered, white scars on her leg, so pronounced and rigid, raised ridges upon her perfectly fragrant skin. Christine felt her eyes slide close in what she couldn't clearly identify. It was a feeling of shame combined with a strange sense of vulnerability and angst under his gaze. Erik's eyes slid close as well, but only in a failing effort to will his tears from falling. He felt nothing but crushing guilt laced with bouts of desire at seeing her so exposed before him. But Christine felt his was more of disgust and embarrassment, and with disgust in herself, quickly wrapped her towel around her shoulders to shield herself and slipped around him and went up the stairs.

Erik made his way into the bathroom and was overtaken by the smells of earthly lavender and rose water, fragrances of his beloved. He stood and breathed in the scents of this beautiful creature who had forever haunted every waking thoughts, every restless night, every dream for nearly three years. The steam from the shower clung to his soft, pale skin, making the scents of Christine even more unmistakable. He pulled off his clothes and neatly folded them into a pile on the sink. He stared at himself in horror - the scars so very visible over his torso, the light gray circles from the multiple cigar burns, the scars from the lashings from the melt-end of the belt. He was too thin, his rib protruding prominently under his skin. His legs long and lanky, knobbly knees barely holding up his tall form. His broad shoulders and his expansive wingspan gave him an odd, disproportionate shape. He sighed heavily, feeling like he would never have anything to offer her. In his last movements, Erik delicately removed the half mask from the right side of his face, and finally, removed the dark brown wig. The straggly strands of silver hair sticking up in a disheveled mess, and there in the steamed over mirror, his deformity stared back at him. The right side of his swollen, misshapen lips turned downwards. His long, lithe fingers began tracing the pattern of puckered skin along his cheeks, the hollowness of the valleys of his face, and finally, they reached the malformed, gaping crevice of his skull, the transparent skin pulled over in shallow layers, exposing the smooth surface of his skull, bulging blue veins throbbing to the beat of his pulse. The balls of his palms reaching his eyes as he massaged them tenderly, thoughts racing of what all this day and night had entailed. One final glance at his form, Erik climbed into the shower to wash and scrub away his own memories. Erik toweled himself off and began applying medicated cream to his face and a moisturizing lotion to the numerous scars littering his torso.

He emerged from the bathroom to see Meg and Raoul already showered and in their pajamas. The electric kettle was boiling away. A bright flash of lightning illuminated the dimly lit house followed immediately with a booming crack of thunder which shook the house. "Well that one hit close," Meg sighed uneasily in the kitchen as she poured four mugs of hot tea. "I didn't think it was supposed to storm tonight, it's rather unexpected."

Erik was next to her drinking a glass of water and quipped menacingly in her ear, "A lot of things about this day were unexpected, Meg. You of all people should know that."

"Cool it, ok?! Erik that's enough!" Meg whispered harshly, her blue eyes afire. "Crap happened today and it's not like we PLANNED on any of this ever happening. When I first met Christine last month…" and she stopped herself and brought her hand immediately over her mouth, her eyes full of panic.

Erik pursed his lips tightly, a menacing, low growl bubbling in the back of his throat. "Meg, let me help you with the tea," Christine said quietly as she walked over. She donned a cardigan which now covered the scars on her neck and shoulder and had changed into a pair of long linen pants to hide the markings on her leg.

"Thanks, but I think I'm gonna go to bed. Good night you guys." Raoul was quickly following Meg to their bedroom as Christine heard Meg's quiet voice say sadly, "He's so mad at me…" and she watched as Meg wiped her eyes.

Another loud crack of thunder made Christine jump and spilled her hot tea on her fingers. She never enjoyed thunderstorms in the dark of night. During the day, sure, it was fine, you could actually see the danger looming on the horizon if needed. But at night… at night nothing good lingered in the darkness. "I think I'm heading to bed as well. Good night," she said quietly as Raoul re-entered the kitchen.

"Good night, Christine," Raoul said and shot Erik pointed eyes. After Christine disappeared up the stairs, Raoul shook his head in disappointment. "It's one thing to be pissed at me, Erik. It's something totally different when you threaten Meg. Don't ever disrespect my fiancee again."

"I wouldn't be this way, if it hadn't…"

"Erik, just shut up! Seriously, just shut up. Ok, I'm sorry, I really am. I'm sorry that we didn't tell you, ok? I can apologize for the rest of my life, but you do NOT threaten Meg. Take your anger and frustration out on me, but don't you ever speak to her like that again. Like… after all this time, you really seriously think we're both vindictive and meddling? That girl is upstairs RIGHT NOW, sleeping across the hall from you, and you haven't said two words to her. Read her body language, Erik - she's shutting down on us. She's shutting down on you. And she's shutting down on herself. I hurt for that poor girl, and you're not helping." Erik attempted to cut in but Raoul held up a firm hand. "I can't talk about this anymore with you. I'm going to bed. Good night." And Raoul quietly departed and closed the bedroom door behind him, leaving Erik standing completely alone as the storm raged on. It was a little after 12:30AM when Erik finally walked up the stairs towards his room. He paused momentarily outside Christine's door, wanting to knock and go to her. Instead, he went to his room, closed the door, and laid on the bed staring at the dark ceiling, his mind racing. Raoul's words weighing heavy on him as he listened to the steady, pelting rhythm of the rain against the windows.

# # #

Christine's sleep was restless, fitful. Her dreams were nothing but a constant repeat of the events of the afternoon, memories from two years ago raging in her head. By the time she had finally fallen still, a very familiar dream reappeared. But this time, on this very night, it was so much more detailed. She could feel and smell, and hear everything. She felt Erik's heated kisses kisses mapping every line and every detail from her lips down to her neck, seductively skating across her collar bone, his hands working frantically to peel off her clothing. The so familiar warm scent of ivory soap and of earl grey tea filling her senses as her fingers lightly ghosted up Erik's bare back. She could feel the wetness of his tongue penetrating with desire as he invaded her ever-welcoming mouth. His moans and pleading whispers of her name upon his lips sent thrilling chills down her spine. His mouth worked frantically to consume every inch of her skin. She gasped as his lips feasted hungrily upon her breasts as she cried out his name. But suddenly her breath hitched at the bite of teeth at the base of her throat. Strong hands and fingers began ripping the flesh at her hairline, gorging and digging into the nape of her neck. Earnest panting quickly giving way to blood curdling shrieks of pain and horror. "No! Stop it… please STOP IT! NO!" The words scorching her throat as she was pleading with helpless abandon. The gnashing of teeth and fingers continued ripping through her skin as her eyes shot open to find that Erik's soft and pure face with Kevin's angry and hard expressions. "I told you, Christine… no one will love you like me. NO ONE!" Oh God, stop, NO! Her fighting wasn't enough and the painful, gut wrenching gnashing of Kevin's teeth never ceased as his hands wrapped tightly around her throat. Choking, she couldn't breathe. God please, no. Erik, help me! "NO ONE CHRISTINE! NO ONE!"

With a strangled gasp, Christine jolted up from her deep slumber, her brown curls completely matted to her sweat-soaked face, neck, and back, tears streaming down her face. Just a dream, just a nightmare. She attempted to remind herself as she tried to adjust to this new setting while piling up her hair into a messy bun to find some kind of relief. She peaked at the nightstand and the dull green clock numbers peaked back at her, 2:36AM. Forcing her memory into the present, she remembered where she was: Meg and Raoul's house, spending the night. That's right, the party. As Christine sat up in the bed, her head throbbed with a pulsing migraine. Gently yet unstably plucking herself from the bed, her head pounded into a steady beat. Meds, water… water. Remembering there was no bathroom on the second floor, Christine stumbled as quietly and as mouselike as possible down the stairs to the kitchen.

Erik still laid in bed staring at the ceiling when he heard the sound of a door opening and the creak of the wooden floor by the staircase. He glanced over at the clock on his nightstand, and cautiously moved to his bedroom door and quietly peered out to see Christine quietly heading downstairs. Something didn't seem right, but he lingered near his door, waiting for her to come back.

Clutching the railing to keep her bad knee from giving out, Christine finally made it to the main level and shakily teetered her way into the kitchen. It was so dark and so quiet except for the heavy rain pelting the windows, but the stillness was unnerving. Meg and Raoul slept in their master bedroom on the main level, adjacent to the short hallway off the kitchen. "I hope I don't wake them," Christine quietly mumbled to herself while snooping the squeaky cabinets for a glass. Finally discovering their hiding place rather high up, Christine levitated to the balls of her feet to grab a glass but her aching knee shouted in agonizing protest and buckled underneath her, sending both body and glass crumbling to the hard floor.

The glass shattered as soon as it hit the floor and Christine let out an injured yelp. Suddenly Meg appeared around the corner, eyes wide. "Oh God, Chrissie… don't move or you'll cut yourself. Stay right there. Raoul?!"

Raoul emerged around the corner bleary-eyed and hair disheveled; but seeing Christine crumpled on the floor in pain and shattered glass everywhere, "Are you ok? What can we do?" Meg went to the closet for the dustpan and vacuum. Both feeling helpless. Of course they had seen a migraine overtake Christine just a week ago at dinner, but this, this was something completely different. The pain from migraine and aching limbs combined was excruciating, and Christine winced in pain.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I needed water, and I need my meds." Christine voiced in humiliation. Her embarrassment painting her face red while her migraine-filled head pounded like a drum corps and her knee screamed in fury. I'm nothing but a disaster.

"Chrissie, don't worry about it. Where are your medications?" Meg pleaded. "I'll get them… are they upstairs in your bag?" Christine nodded as Meg stood and turned to head upstairs. "Erik, can you help Christine to the living room? She needs to get off the floor and her knee up."

In the chaos of shattered glass, Christine never noticed Erik peering around the corner, observing the unfolding events. He had kept such a cautious distance between himself and Christine all day and evening. He barely spoke two words to her, but his gaze was never floundering. Christine's eyes met Erik's as he kneeled down to wrap his arms around her for support. "Hold on to me, Christine," he said in just a whisper that sent goosebumps up her spine. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing more than a feather, his arms holding her with such a protective force it took her breath away. And his scent, oh his scent, was intoxicating… such a unique and familiar combination of ivory soap and earl grey tea. She couldn't help but inhale and feel just a mild degree of relief and an odd sense of nostalgia. Just as easily as Erik has picked up Christine, he just as gently placed her on the couch. As Erik maneuvered the arm that was under Christine's back, she noticed how incredibly close his face was to hers. Slowly turning her head, Christine tilted her eyes upward to meet his once more and their lips were incredibly close. "Thank you, Erik…"

Closing his eyes, he whispered a barely audible "you're welcome" and went to grab a pillow to prop up her bad knee. "May I?" he gestured to her knee and Christine nodded. Looking down the length of her leg, Erik extended a hesitant hand to maneuver a pillow under Christine's knee. Letting his fingers just barely brush one of the more angrier scars on her leg, he slowly sat on the edge of the coffee table, letting his eyes hesitantly follow the scars from her leg, to her arm, to her bare shoulder, and finally to the long, deep scar that contoured the shape of Christine's hairline and face. An unnameable emotion flashed across his face as Christine realized how bare she was and how visible her battle wounds had become under Erik's gaze.

"Chrissie, I couldn't find your medications and didn't want to rifle through your bag, so I brought it down. Erik, can you grab this? I'll get some water." Meg handed the bag to Erik, who placed it in his lap. "Allow me, Christine." His voice was so soft, comforting. Immediately he found her medications, and almost as if he already knew what they were for and how much, he placed the pills into her hand one by one. "One for anxiety, two for inflammation and pain, and one for migraine?" Erik asked very quietly. "No anxiety. Only for emergencies," Christine motioned as Erik placed three of the four pills into her hand. Meg came over with a glass of water while Raoul tucked the vacuum away. The pair sat next to each other on the opposite couch, watching carefully.

A heavy silence between the four of them as Christine swallowed the pills and took a steadying breath. With a very calculated sigh, she reached for her bag still resting in Erik's lap. His eyes watching very carefully as she pulled from the bag a thick folder, filled with dozens and dozens of paper. Her breathing harsh and fast, nausea threatening to spill the contents of her rolling stomach. Anxiety and anger and sadness wrapped themselves around Christine as she opened the folder and leafed through the pages to the one listing three distinctive names. Her eyes stared intensely at Meg and Raoul. "I know who you are. I know what you did. But what I don't know is why the hell you didn't tell me," her voice hoarse as she tried to speak through the incessant throbbing in her head.

Meg released an airy whimper as her tears spilled. Raoul audibly cursed. And Erik glanced at the pair. "A question I myself have been demanding an answer to all day."

"Right now, no one is to say a word, even you," Christine said quietly as she looked at Erik. He nodded in careful affirmation as Meg and Raoul sat breathlessly still. "After my dad died, I had a hard time coming back to life. So when I made the decision to go back to school, I felt like Western Cypress was a good chance to refresh and restart," Christine began. "I heard and read things here and there about abusive relationships, but I never thought it would happen to me. Kevin was everything: charismatic, confident and extremely seductive by nature. I guess with hindsight being 50/50, I can now see all the tremendously dangerous red flags during the weeks leading up to that Fall 2003 semester starting."

Another steadying breath as a second round of thunderstorms boomed in the distance, lightning again filling the dimly lit living room, rain pelting hard, the wind beginning to howl.

"I had arrived on campus a few weeks before the semester was to start to meet up with my roommate,

to explore the campus, and to buy my books. When I arrived on campus, my roommate was running

late because of traffic and I realized I didn't have my class schedule with me to get my books. I ventured

into the library in hopes of logging into my account to download my course codes but for some reason

my password wasn't working. After a few attempts, I started to walk out of the library when I heard Kevin's voice for the first time." Christine drew a deep breath as if she was being transported back to the library on that very day. She could smell the books, she could hear the clacking of typing fingers on keyboards, the murmurs of copier machines and printers. She spoke about this first encounter with Kevin with such detail, the feel of his lips when he kissed her, the thrill of him holding her close, the party, the confession of devoted love and affection.

"We kissed so passionately and so intensely, I felt an out-of-body experience, floating above observing how this was unfolding. We went back to the party and enjoyed the rest of the evening. He never left my side, watching over me, protective… claiming. After the party was over, I decided to stay the night, and as the quietness of the night serenaded our senses, I gave in to what my body was craving, and we slept together that night - my first time, and it wasn't how I had pictured it to be, but I was young and stupid, inexperienced and, most obviously, completely naive."

At this, Erik felt completely defeated and almost sick to his stomach. He took her innocence, that son of a bitch didn't deserve that gift. But he quickly shut off his train of thought - no sense in trying to think that he would have, or could ever, deserve her. If only I wasn't such a coward… none of this would have happened. It's my fault. It's all your damn fault, you are despicable. She painted such a horrific picture of what her life was like with Kevin, how violent and volatile he had become, how possessive and abusive he was. And finally, the climax to that terrible night when each individual path of these four collided.

"He sped off so fast out of the parking lot and like a bullet he started speeding towards campus and downtown. He was screaming at me with such viciousness that I thought my heart would explode in agony. How could anyone be so cruel, so abusive, so manipulative, so angry… he called me broken; he said I was NOTHING without him. That no one would ever love me. Next thing I knew he hit me so hard I felt like my eyes would explode. And I felt an impact and heard the most horrific crunching and scraping of metal before things went black…" She didn't hold back her tears any longer; she had to let go; she had to tell someone. All those months of agonizingly painful physical therapy, staring at her scars from her ripped open flesh on her legs, her knee swollen with remnants of scar tissue, the gashed scars on her thigh, the white-patterned scars laying out an artwork from the pins and metal rods used to reset her leg, the angry, long scars marring her face… and the white, solid streaks of hair that appeared the day after the accident… EVERYTHING was visible, and for the first time, she didn't hide them, she showed them, openly. And for what honestly felt like the first time since Gustav's funeral, Christine sobbed and wept.

Erik was overwrought with guilt. He could have prevented this whole thing if he wasn't such a coward, if he didn't screw up in the first place. If only he could have gotten over his fear and met her that night, none of this would have happened. "Why didn't you come?" Christine sobbed as she stared at Erik. "Why didn't you come that night? I'm so sorry I hurt you when I saw you that night and just stared. I'm so sorry, Erik, I'm so sorry. Forgive me; please forgive me." A loud clap of thunder shook the house and all Christine could hear was the sound of smashing metal and breaking glass and the feel of the impact of the car crashing into the building. She flinched with fright as another crack of thunder shook the house, letting out a sobbing yelp as her mind raced to bring her back to the present.

Erik couldn't bear witness to her falling apart. "Christine," he said as her wet eyes opened to meet his, "Christine, forgive me. Forgive me. I beg you to forgive me." He gently cupped her small face in his hands, he almost wanted to chuckle at how petite she was as his hands practically swallowed her face, and brushed away the tears upon her cheeks with his thumbs. Christine leaned into his touch, it was everything she had ever dreamed it would feel like to have hands softly upon her skin.

She opened her eyes, tears blurring her vision and asked gently, "Let me see you." Erik's eyes went wide with panic. "Please, let me see you the way I remember you that night, when you held me, when you sang to me, when I saw you without this," she whispered pleadingly as her fingers lightly touched the edge of his mask.

"You don't know what you ask of me," Erik cried, "Please don't do this."

Christine sighed heavily. "I'm tired of everyone telling me what I do and do not want; what I can and cannot handle. Erik, I need to see you, the way you appeared as my angel of music. The night you saved my life." She paused, suddenly remembering Raoul's poignant words, "And I saved yours."

"Meg, Raoul, please leave us," Erik said quietly over his shoulder. Even they had never seen his face exposed before. He turned back to Christine and simply said, "As you wish, and only for you." Erik and Christine watched Meg and Raoul depart, and Meg's parting words hung in the air, "We're so sorry, and… we love you both." And they went back into their bedroom, leaving Christine and Erik alone in the living room.

The thunder rolled again and the rain fell, the storm raged on. Christine shifted on the couch so she was sitting face to face with Erik. Their hands and fingers entwined together, holding fast, afraid of letting go should this dream come to an end. They were here, they were together, they were touching each other, and everything in this moment was so real, so alive, so raw. Erik brought Christine's hands to his face, guided her fingers to the edges of his mask, and her small hands carefully and ever so gently slid the mask away from his face. Erik's hands trembled in hers, his eyes glued shut as tears ran freely down his face. He heard Christine gasp and steadied herself with a long sigh. "Open your eyes and look at me," she whispered and felt Erik nod emphatically with a no. "Erik, look at me, see me… feel me." Her cold fingers began tracing every contour of his misshappend face. His swollen lips, the peaks and valleys, and suddenly he felt her fingers hesitate as they traced the line of his wig and began pulling it gently away from his head. Another yet less audible gasp, but suddenly felt her fingers fixing the straggly strands of grey patchy hair. His eyes remained glued shut as he sobbed, feeling her fingers continuing their gentle journey, mapping every feature. Her whispered voice again met his ears, "Look at me, see me, feel me. Erik, please, open your eyes and see me." His eyes fluttered open, bloodshot red from crying. "Sing for me," she requested. His eyes furrowed briefly then alit with realization of her request.

I'll keep you safe
Try hard to concentrate
Hold out your hand
Can you feel the weight of it
The whole world at your fingertips
Don't be, don't be afraid
Our mistakes they were bound to be made
But I promise you I'll keep you safe

"There you are," Christine breathed as the words Erik had sung to her the night he pulled her broken body from the wreckage, "my angel of music."

The vulnerability and intimacy of this moment invade their senses. With Christine's hands upon his face, Erik reached up, frantically searching her eyes for any hesitation about his movements, and when she didn't look away, kissed her. He kissed her so tenderly, her lips so incredibly soft and forgiving and beautiful and warm. He drank in the feeling of her kissing him back, her heated breath upon his skin. They hesitantly broke away as the chiming of the clock in the living room chimed that it was quarter to four in the morning. The residual effects of the migraine medicine was entrancing Christine in a foggy cloud of exhaustion and heaviness. "May I assist you back to bed?" Erik asked and Christine nodded groggily. She made to stand up on her own but Erik quickly still her and instead, picked her up and cradled her in his steadying arms, and carried up the stairs and back to her room.

He gently laid her on the bed and watched as she made herself comfortable. And now the question remained: what do we do now? Erik turned to leave when he felt Christine's hand grab his wrist and pulled him to her. "Lay with me for a little bit?" It was more than Erik could've asked for, even just minutes earlier he actually kissed a woman, and not just any woman, he kissed Christine.

Erik walked to the other side of the bed as he heard Christine shift again to face him as he laid down. They laid completely still for a few moments, their eyes adjusting to the dark and stared at each other, eyes hungry for what the future would hold. Erik reached up and gently moved a few strands of hair that had fallen in her face and noticed a shy smile wrinkling upon her face. Christine reached for Erik's hands and entwined her fingers with his and placed a gentle kiss upon his hands and closed her eyes. Erik laid completely still, listening to her breathing become heavier and deeper as she sank into sleep and a whisper moved over his lips. "Christine, I love you."