Nadir was a wreck when he finally pushed open the door of the house by the lake that evening, while carrying a packet of steaming food Darius had forced him to take to Erik. His servant was not particularly fond of the masked man, yet seeing his master so distraught caused him literal anxiety, so he figured, the faster he became healthy, the faster Nadir would be well again.

"Mademoiselle Daae?" he inquired, seeing the house empty and looked around the front rooms, hoping to see her there. He had forgotten how heavy loneliness could feel and that day he had gotten plenty of it.

Progressing deeper into the house, his ears started picking up a faint, slithering sound and he followed it, coming to stand at the threshold of the Louis-Philippe room.

"...Sancta Maria, mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostrae. Amen. Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum. Benedicta tu in..."

Christine was kneeling by the bed, her hands clutched in front of her in fervent prayer, as tears streamed from her closed eyes. He could only see her from the side, from where he was standing by the door, yet he could tell her beautiful features were twisted in a grimace of agony and pain. Her mouth prattled on uncontrollably, like a posessed woman's, and her beautiful voice, in that desperate whisper now sounded almost sinister, like the long hiss of a snake.

He cleared his throat, wishing the terrifying image to cease and she turned abruptly, instantly lowering her eyes in shame and wiping her tears away.

"Forgive me, Monsieur Khan, I did not hear you come in..."she started, still choking on tears and embarassement, for having been caught in such a vulnerable position. Her prayers were disturbing when they became too desperate, or that was what Maman had said whenever she would pray after Gustave's death.

"Do not apologise for tears or prayers, my child," he aproached her in a fatherly tone. "I hoped to see you better, that is all."

Once she felt her face had cleared from crying, she dared lift her beautiful eyes to Nadir who was now sitting next to her on the floor, wile maintaining a proper distance, so as not to make her more uncomfortable.

"Sometimes I feel so lost..." She started, awkwardly twisting a thread of her dress between her fingers, "And no one seems to listen, even when I try to pray." Her eyes looked up, indicating to him she was referring to the upper force she believed in. "Erik..."she choked on the name, as new tears flooded her eyes, "Erik was accepting of my faith, even though he mocked the divine with every chance. I think the notion was a little bit silly to him, I suppose."

He stretched a hand to her, which she willingly accepted. Nadir had finished with his God for the day and had his mind in order, so he was in a good place to comfort her.

"The notion terrified him, because he can't accept that someone, in heaven or earth, had done all this to him willingly. Injustice bubbles up inside him, and not unrightly so. After all, it was a question I always had, but never could find the answer to.

"I guess...perhaps that's why I fell for the illusion of the Angel of Music so easily," she admitted. "I felt everything collapsing around me and, when all my questions, all my hope was met with complete silence, I started to despair. Of course, I never expected a straightforward answer to come to me, like someone speaking to me directly I mean, but then it did happen, and it felt like finally I had someone."

They weren't exactly having a proper conversation, only took turns in voicing all their troubles and thoughts. Christine was overcome with a feeling of ease, finally being able to talk to somewhat of a father figure, who listened and advised, without plaguing her with more questions. Nadir, on the other hand, wanting to help the girl and explain his trail of thought, hoping for some kind of confirmation.

They sat in silence for a while, until their spirits were calm and they could finally resume to pretending that everything would be alright. He was the first to stand up and walked to the kitchen to fetch the food he had brought them. She remained next to the bed, stroking Erik's hair as he slept on, for what seemed to be like centuries.

"I don't think he'd woken up at all while we were gone," she noted, numbly holding her mirror over his mouth to check his breath. "His breathing is very shallow, should we be worried?"

Nadir sat across of her and handed her the plate. "I do not think so. As long as he's breathing and doesn't have a fever, he should be alright. His body needs time to heal."

She took a bite of the spicy meat and enjoyed the sensation of having something in her stomach to ease her nausea. "You're right. Maybe I should have called in a doctor, or gone to ask one. We're not doing enough, since we don't know of any medications he would have to take to get better."

Nadir could hint at her panic, even though she concealed well under her easy tone. "There's nothing more to be done, Christine. he shows signs of improvement, so we have to allow him the time to rest."

She didn't like his answer and was not willing to pretend to be calmed by it. So she set her plate on the nightstand and left, hiding away in the library, where the fire burned and she could rest.

He shook his head dismissively, understanding why she was upset and not wishing to make the situation ny harder for both of them.

"You'd better wake up old man," he shot a sideglance towards his sleeping friend and retired to the living room, in an attempt to get some much needed sleep.