Chapter 16! This one was tough to write as I had little of it prepared, apart from the plan in my head, but thankfully I already have a lot of the next few chapters written. I just hope I haven't rushed the escape too much in order to stop all the action from dragging!

Thank you again for the reviews and follows. I love to hear when you're enjoying the fic, and am incredibly thankful the constructive criticisms.

His malformed mouth was partially open and she could hear each breath clearer now. His eyes were still closed. His eyelids seemed to be one of the few places on his face untouched by his disfiguration. One side of his face was paper-like, the skin seemed to be stretched too taut over the bone, as if his brow or jaw might break through the tender flesh at any moment. The other side of his face was haggard and loose, as if it had greedily taken what should have been on the other side. There was no nose, just a dark hole.

She couldn't deny that looking at him took her breath away. She felt nausea crash upon her. She slammed her eyes shut and looked away, forcing herself to overcome those queasy feelings. It was almost as if she'd split in two; a disassociation from herself. One half of herself fought for sanity, the other wanted to scream in horror. She ignored the latter, silencing her with memories of his kindness. And, when she had calmed herself, she felt him, still helpless in her arms; for the first time in his life he needed her, not the other way around. And she knew it was her turn to be the strong one. She opened her eyes again and the feelings of revulsion dissipated.

Then she wept.

She wept for Erik, she wept for herself, but mostly she wept in relief. Relief that they had made it out of the city, that he was still there with her and that she had managed to look upon him without going mad.

That was what she had been told would happen. The stories he had demanded she tell him were just that; stories. Lies made up, perhaps even encouraged by him, in order strike fear. She couldn't blame him for not wanting to talk about it or for wanting to protect her from seeing it. Stratera had used Erik's self-hatred to twist him into the monster he required. It was one of his greatest weapons and at the same time his utmost weakness.

"Christine? Christine?"

She was drawn from her thoughts by someone calling to her. She looked up and saw Nadir's worried eyes staring at her in the mirror.

"What have you done?" he asked in a horrified whisper.

It was too late now; she had thrown the black mask out of the window, never to be seen again, safe in the knowledge that they didn't need to hide from each other anymore.

"It doesn't matter to me what he looks like," she told him coolly, to prove her point, she stroked his mangled forehead lovingly.

Nadir didn't doubt her words. He was more preoccupied with what the man would do once he was awake and found his mask gone.

They drove for several hours, the dark roads kept stretching out before them.

When they neared the Swiss border, Nadir took a turn onto a country road and stopped to review the map. He pressed on a little further, finally stopping outside a stone cottage. The sun was beginning to rise and the countryside slept on in the hazy light. Nadir squinted into the distance to where he knew the Swiss border loomed. So close and yet so far.

He turned back to the couple behind him. Christine was gently dozing. He called gently to her and she started.

Her first action was to look to Erik and check his breathing. He was still with them, but unconscious. Her eyes fluttered closed in relief and then returned to Nadir.

"We're here," he whispered.

'Here' was a small farmhouse cottage, removed back from the country road and well shrouded by trees. If Christine wasn't so sleepy, she would have noticed that outside the cottage was a similar looking garage with one of the same digital locks as the one in Paris.

"Where are we?"

"One of Erik's safehouses. He marked them all on the map. We can rest here until it is dark again. Then we will try to make it over the border. Stay here a moment. I will check everything is safe."

She watched as Nadir circled the house carefully, and then disappeared behind it. He reappeared after a few minutes.

"The coast is clear."

With Nadir's help, she carefully pulled Erik from the car and they carried him towards the door of the cottage. The keys to the car had one other key on the chain. It opened the door.

"Skeleton key," Nadir explained.

Inside was a complicated alarm system. Nadir punched in a code but it didn't allay the beeping. He rubbed his head in frustrated panic as it continued. He tried another and the beeping thankfully stopped.

Nadir gave a long-relieved sigh. "Erik likes to booby trap his hideouts. I would not like to imagine what would have happened if I'd got it wrong a third time. Try not to touch too much – it's best we leave as few indications we've been here as possible."

The cottage had only the essential furniture. Rather than carry him up the stairs they placed Erik on the floor of the front room. Christine found some cushions and bedding to make it more comfortable.

Nadir ducked out of the room to hide the car in the garage and grab the medical kit. Once he was back, he assessed Erik's condition as Christine hovered nervously beside him.

Nadir checked the wound which although not bleeding as much, was still partially open and angry. He washed it clean again and reached for the medical kit. He pulled out some sutures and a needle and thread.

"Nadir, are you sure you are not too tired to do this?" Christine asked with concern. "Perhaps you should rest for a while?"

"If I don't do it now, he will keep on bleeding. I should have done this before we left Paris but we weren't safe to do so."

Christine bit her lip as Nadir injected Erik with a clear fluid. He could tell that Christine was desperate to know what was going on so he explained as he went. Christine noticed he was trying hard not to look at Erik's face.

"I am injecting him with a painkiller. It will make sure he remains asleep while I do this. Then I am going to stitch up the wound."

Christine nodded.

"As much as I might like an audience for this, perhaps you ought to make yourself useful and go get that other mask?"

Christine balked. "What?"

"Christine," he said with a sigh, "He will be furious when he wakes up and finds he is without one. He hates anyone seeing his face. Besides…I need to concentrate…"

Christine suppressed the angry thoughts that rose up as he said this. Right now Erik's health was all that mattered to her and even though the idea of masking him seemed like a step backwards, she could see the strain Nadir was already under and knew Erik's face was making things harder for him. Silently she fetched the other mask for him and replaced it on Erik.

"You should go and rest," Nadir told her, "I'll let you know once it is done."

She nodded and turned to leave, but not before she heard him say "he is lucky to have you, shireen."

Christine lumbered upstairs, exhausted as the adrenaline wore off. She found a bedroom and lay down on the unmade bed, too tired to contemplate undressing. She didn't remember falling asleep but the next thing she remembered was being awoken by Nadir. It must have been some time afterwards because the dark drawn curtains were straining to hold back the bright daylight.

Nadir was calmer now, but looked exhausted.

"It's done," he said softly, "You've been asleep for a few hours. Go and watch him and I shall rest."

"How is he?"

"I'm not sure…" the uncertainty in Nadir's voice made her stomach drop, "I would have thought he would have woken up by now. The sedative I gave him should have knocked him out for half an hour at the most. This worries me…I'm telling you the truth because I want you to be prepared. We have no way of keeping him properly monitored like we would do if he was in a hospital. I can't see if there is any internal bleeding, and it is hard to tell this when he is unresponsive. But at least the wound is closed now. The human body is a miraculous thing. It can come through great trauma. But it is also weak in many ways..."

Christine swallowed, unable to accept what he was saying to her. Unable to give up hope.

"He's going to be fine," she told him with determination.

"I hope you are right, Christine."

She left Nadir alone in the bedroom so he could sleep and walked downstairs. She hardly felt refreshed but knew this would be the way of things for the foreseeable future. She almost missed the security of the Paris house, but the more she thought about it, the more she realised it wasn't the Paris house that made her feel safe; it was the man inside it.

She stood on the threshold of the sitting room where Erik lay. His breathing was silent but steady. She saw his chest rise and fall with certainty. She moved to sit by him and then reclined, lying on her side and facing him. His arms were limp by his sides and carefully, she reached out a hand and took his in her own.

"I'm here, Erik," she said softly, hoping that wherever he was, he could hear her. "I'm not going anywhere."

She watched him breathing for a long time. She wanted Erik to turn and face her so badly. Occasionally she would whisper to him; things she remembered from their time together, memories of her past, hopes for their future. All of them were distractions from the worry that Nadir has instilled in her.

Her mind drifted to outside the house, back to Paris. She wondered what was happening. The area they were in was so quiet and remote that it seemed impossible that a war was being waged nearby. She prayed again and again for a peaceful resolution. She hoped Marie was alright too, and that she had been saved the bloodshed she seemed to crave.

Eventually, when the sky began to darken again, Nadir appeared looking a lot more restored.

"We should get ready."

Inside the cottage's garage were cans of fuel and a change of number plate. Nadir replaced the number plate and refuelled the car, while Christine checked they hadn't left anything behind in the house.

She raided the kitchen, which was filled with cans and preserved foods, for anything they wanted to take with them. They took the bedding that they had used for Erik's bed with them so they could dispose of it, leaving no trace behind that they had ever been there. This time, instead of the comfort of the backseat, Erik was carefully bundled up into the boot, wrapped in a dark blanket and obscured by their bags.

"It will only be for an hour or so," Nadir told her as he saw the conflict on her face, "Just until we are over the border."

There was a tension in the car as Nadir approached the invisible line between countries. He whispered to himself in a language that she didn't understand and Christine wondered if he might be praying. She sat beside him in the passenger seat, fiddling with her new identity document.

As they came closer to their destination, they saw the signs of disarray caused by the night before. The military stations that were posted all along the border were empty. No doubt all soldiers had either abandoned their stations or fled back north to help with the fighting. The towers gaped thoughtlessly at them as they sailed by and they breathed a sigh of relief. Through the darkness they saw civilians scampering over the fields with bags of their possessions. All had the same idea; get out of this place.

It was almost anti-climatic the second they passed over the border; it happened so quickly. And then they were in Switzerland.

A hundred metres or so after the border there were a collection of Swiss police officers awaiting them. They motioned for the car to stop and Nadir did so.

A police officer approached the car. He was heavy set and carried his torch with eagerness. In the other hand was a set of papers with different faces on them. Christine caught a glimpse of one face that looked a lot like Charteris; the man she had severely disliked at Stratera's party.

"French?" the man asked gruffly.

"No, Iranian – and Swedish," Nadir said, keeping his voice from quivering, "That is where we are headed."

"To Sweden?" The police officer asked with surprise flashing the torch at Christine. She dutifully handed over her passport. The officer looked at it for a moment and then flashed the torch over the rest of the car, but found nothing peculiar.

"You have been in France long?" he asked.

Nadir nodded, "Not willingly," he replied, and then added with more sympathy, "I just want to get her home safe to her family."

The officer looked at Christine once again, her frazzled appearance and worried eyes told him everything. He, because of his position, knew the tragedies that had befallen women in France better than most. He'd seen a lot of escapees over the years. He knew one when he saw her now.

The officer sighed.

"There have been a lot of women fleeing in the last few hours. What with the news about Stratera… They are all expect refugee status in Switzerland. But you two are Sweden's problem now. On you go," he told them, almost with disappointment that he hadn't found anything or anyone exciting.

Nadir didn't say anything further, just drove on, relieved that they made it past the cordon.

As soon as the police cars were in the rear-view mirror, Nadir and Christine simultaneously jumped to the radio dial; their intrigue piqued by the officer's comment about Stratera.

The station was still on the old broadcast, the one that had been chanting the same staid sentences since they left Paris:

Curfew is in order.

Remain in your homes.

Give thanks to Le Dirigeant.

Instead now there was a different announcer, who spoke with a German accent.

"The wanted criminal known as Charles Stratera has been captured near Bordeaux. The former leader of the Republic of France was found hidden in a system of underground caves near the coast. He has been reprimanded and will be transported to The Hague where he will face trial for the huge number of crimes against human rights he has overseen after the last twenty-five years of brutal dictatorship…Sources close to the operation disclosed that the location would probably have never been found had it not been for an informant who held a senior position within the government. At least twenty other members of Stratera's party have also been arrested and we will update you with those names later...One not among them is Stratera's adopted son, who sources believe has been killed in the incursion…"

Nadir and Christine could barely believe what they were hearing. They stared at each other flabbergasted and Nadir had to keep reminding himself to look at the road.

"A State of Emergency is currently in place and UN diplomatic forces are scrambling to create a coalition government until a democratically elected one can be put in place. The former Chief Minister for Domestic Affairs, Raoul de Chagny has allegedly been crucial in these operations and has been working with external foreign powers for multiple years. The aim now is to bring the military action to a peaceful conclusion, we now go live to our War Correspondent outside the Invalides Palace in Paris…"

Christine balked at the sound of Raoul's name, surprised he had been helping with the invasion all along. She was strangely proud of him, and of her, that she had noticed some good within him that brief evening they'd met. Her thoughts then turned to Erik; knowing how furious he would be that Raoul had somehow ended up in charge of things.

Nadir meanwhile took a turning off the main road, down a quieter country lane, and stopped the car. They listened on. She wasn't sure when he started crying, or when she joined him, but suddenly they were holding each other, sobbing with relief and liberation. Stratera was gone, as was most of his government. And what's more, they thought Erik was no longer alive.

"If they think Erik's dead, they won't be looking for him, will they?" she asked.

"It's likely," Nadir agreed. "We've been very lucky. Someone is looking out for you, shireen."

"Thank God," she breathed with joy. Nadir wiped his eyes and nodded.

"I think it's safe to get him out the boot now," he said with sparkling eyes.

They did so, Christine whispered all they knew to him in the back seat, holding his unconscious form close. And they drove on. They could. They were free.

They were still careful. Nadir would occasionally stop and give them both a chance to move about or rest, and have a drink or some food. Occasionally, they also needed to refuel the car. Nadir did this, making sure his face was covered with a cap when he entered the stations and only paying with cash.

Sometimes, when he stopped in a remote place, he would take white tape that he'd found in the garage and alter the registration plates to make new numbers or letters. It was just another way to make sure they couldn't be tracked. He also made sure to pay attention to any speed limits, not taking a chance of garnering any attention in law enforcement.

As they travelled more details of what had happened in France were revealed; When the foreign invaders had arrived at the Invalides they had been met with a small resistance of soldiers, who had been overcome fairly easily. But when the Invalides had been searched, Stratera could not be found. As soon as the defensive forces found their leader was missing, most had abandoned their posts or given themselves up.

MI5 had intelligence that lead them to Stratera; they'd found him cowering in a cave awaiting news of a potential transport out of the county. He'd been ready to abandon everything and flee with his life. He had thousands of Euros with him, ready to buy himself protection. It was useless though as secret service forces easily made their way inside the highly defended refuge. Stratera had sworn vengeance on the man who had given him up – he knew exactly who it must have been – only to find out that the man was already thought dead and therefore he was unable to exact punishment. Once again, Erik was a disappointment to him.

There were still those who remained loyal to Stratera, those who wanted to fight; they were incarcerated, in a far more humane way than Stratera's government had formerly employed, so they couldn't do any further harm. People hoped that with the proper care and psychological help these men could be free once Stratera's rhetoric and brainwashing was no longer so prevalent. It would take time. But France, for the first time in twenty-five years, looked to the future with hope. Christine and Nadir did the same.

It took a day and a half to reach Sweden. Erik remained unconscious the whole way and Christine's heart started to ache with worry. When they passed Stockholm, the heavens opened and it rained hard. Even though it was the summer, the further north they went the harder it poured.

Christine wondered just how far they'd go. She asked Nadir the same question.

"Let's see how far we can travel before it gets dark," he looked up at the already gloomy sky, "well, darker."

"He needs somewhere safe to rest and recover," Christine said sadly, "We all do."

Eventually they reached the north of the country. It was very rural and there were few towns and cities. Christine had been here once before, when she was very young. A relative had lived in Gammelstad. It had been a very beautiful part of the country. She doubted there would be very many people to wonder about their arrival, as it was a very quiet, idyllic area.

They found a small town which was no more than a single road with a shop, bar and café. They stopped the car and Nadir looked out at the deserted surroundings with hesitation.

"We should see if we can find somewhere to stay nearby," Nadir bit his lip, "It may be better if you go and ask?…You speak the language, and a woman is more trustworthy…"

Christine nodded and gently relinquished Erik. She checked her appearance in the mirror. She looked awful but perhaps that would help sell the story she was intending to spin.

"Be careful," Nadir urged her.

She stepped out of the car, making sure Erik was well hidden behind the tinted glass and approached the bar. It was frequented by a few patrons, but her entrance didn't draw much attention.

She approached the bartender, an old, surly looking man, and greeted him in her mother tongue.

"Hello," she said politely. "Dreadful weather, isn't it?"

"What can I get you, Miss?" he responded; clearly not one for conversation.

"I'm actually looking for somewhere to stay a few nights – is there anywhere nearby to rent?"

"What sort of person doesn't plan a thing like that?" he asked suspiciously, looking her up and down with interest.

Christine gave him a tense smile, "It's a spur of the moment type thing…"

The man said nothing for a long time and looked at her shrewdly. Finally, he answered; "Go see Una in the shop down the road. She has a holiday cabin she'll rent you."

Christine beamed in relief, she took out a crisp 100 krona note and offered it to him. He shook his head and refused it.

"Thank you," she said gently and went in search of the woman he had suggested.

She found her easily enough, just as she was shutting up the shop for the night.

"Excuse me," Christine called to her, "I'm sorry, but I was told by the gentleman at the pub that you might have a place to rent. I'm looking for somewhere to stay for a few weeks."

Una turned in her direction as the young woman addressed her. The old woman watched her guardedly, but with a little less suspicion than the bartender.

"I have a cabin about 10kms from here," she replied with a half frown, "Did you email about it?"

Christine wavered, "I didn't, no. Is it available now?"

"Yes," said the old woman with curiosity, and then with some concern, "Are you by yourself?"

"I'm here with my step-father – he's parked a little way up the road," she lied easily, "I have money to pay you a few weeks in advance. Here is my identification."

She produced her Swedish passport and the old woman scrutinised it.

"You are Swedish?" Una asked with confusion, "Your accent is strange…"

"I have been living with him abroad for a long time...I married a man, who, well, he didn't turn out to be very nice. I'm trying to disappear for a little while, if you understand me. It's a difficult situation, but I'd appreciate your discretion about my being here..."

The old lady's eyes widened as she spoke, and she began to notice Christine's worn appearance. Eventually she swallowed the story.

"The rate is 7000 for the week," the old woman said with a little more empathy. "Make it 8000 and I won't say a word."

Christine handed over 12,000 krona. "Thank you. I'd like to stay for three weeks. I'll give you the other half when you show us to the cabin."

Una smiled, more at ease now she'd seen the money. "Give me a moment to finish shutting up this old place and I'll show you the way there in my car."

Nadir and Christine followed Una's car to the small cabin. It was nestled further away from the coastline, but still near the river. It looked like something from a fairy-tale; the outside was red painted wood, with a white roof and small square windows. All that was missing was the gingerbread.

She followed Una in and the old woman showed her around. Nadir hovered by the car pretending to unpack the contents, conscious that the old woman should not come too close and see inside.

There were two bedrooms, a small living room and a kitchen with dining table. There was some food already in the cupboards and the beds had to be made, but otherwise it was perfect.

Christine handed over the rest of the money and Una graciously accepted it.

"I'm sorry to be a bit guarded at first," she said, her frostiness wearing off, "We don't get too many visitors in the town. If you like I can bring you some supplies up from the shop tomorrow?"

Christine thought for a moment, remaining as pleasant as possible. She didn't think the old woman visiting the cabin too much was a good idea. "That's alright, Una. That is very kind of you, but don't worry about the supplies. My step-father can come and collect them tomorrow."

The old woman nodded, leaving shortly afterwards.

Christine sighed in relief once she was gone completely and they could fetch Erik into the house. The living room had a sofa bed, they made it up for him and placed him carefully in the room, pulling the curtains and making sure he was comfortable as he could be. She noticed he seemed to be breathing a little quicker and occasionally he would twitch or move slightly. She and Nadir took comfort in this, but she still couldn't stop fretting. Neither would Christine entertain the idea of sleeping in a different room to her husband.

She did insist however that Nadir go to bed almost immediately, once he'd had a chance to eat something. Now that they were relatively safe hidden in the darkest north of Sweden, she allowed herself to relax. She knew she shouldn't get too complacent in the current situation, but she had been tense for so long, it was difficult to continue being so. The only thing she needed now was for Erik to wake up.

She dozed in the chair beside him as the light finally faded and night rolled in. Occasionally she would wake up in the middle of the night and check on him. His eyelids would flicker and each time she'd hope they would open but they never did.

The dawn broke on the cabin and eventually the darkness was brushed away. Christine stirred, not feeling fully rested, but better than she had done in the last few fraught days. She got up from the chair and stretched, peeking behind the curtains she looked out onto nothing by trees and fields and the river dancing with light. She felt warm, and yet the sun was still too low in the sky to take the chill of the morning away. She realised, with a flip of her stomach, what it was burning her so. She turned around anxious to face him. His golden eyes were staring straight at her.

"Shireen" is Persian for sweet (at least that's what google told me!)

Sorry you're going to have to wait another week for Erik and Christine to have THAT talk but I promise you, it will be happening next week and it will be SO GOOD.