A/N: I have struggled through the quarantine-induced existential dread and I am back! (Yes, I am in the US for anyone who hasn't figured that out from my writing style/spelling standards. It suuuuuuucks.) I'll still keep trying to chug along on this, but I thank you greatly for your patience.

I also wanted to respond to a few comments in reviews - honestly, I knew that introducing Christine would probably split the audience somewhat - which is understandable, the fandom in general is pretty split on her, not to mention those of us who prefer OC fics. However, I decided pretty early on that I did want her in this story - Erik's life at the time of the original novel more or less revolves around Christine, and no amount of future tech coolness or presence of new girl is going to temper his desire for her (in my opinion, anyway). That doesn't mean that he can't grow as a character - buuuut we're not there yet.

What I didn't expect was anyone to take exception with the portrayal of Christine's abduction as... an abduction. Now, yes, it varies from version to version on how willingly she goes with Erik, but this is Leroux... and Leroux Christine straight up passes out after being hypnotized through her mirror. Yes, taking an unconscious woman to your underground lair is kidnapping. Does this mean I don't like Erik and don't want him to have a happy ending? Well... I wouldn't be still writing this if that were the case.

BUT. Before I get ahead of myself, I also understand that this fic is not for everyone. I also really do appreciate critiques as we go, as I absolutely take the time to read through those and consider whether my story is in danger of going off the rails (hence the long delay, existential dread aside). I will always welcome any criticism, even if it's to say that my story just isn't for you!

(Oh, last note, to fEmAleNoMad - No, Claire isn't actually a reference to anything... I just really like the name Claire and variations on it)

Chapter 10

Christine re-emerged from Erik's bedroom a short while later, looking mildly haggard but not really any worse the wear from the time she had spent alone with him. Not wanting to press her for any further details, Claire left the subject alone and no further words were said of it that evening.

That night, at Christine's insistence, they both curled up in the bed in the Louis-Phillipe room, despite Claire's protestations that she could take the couch. Christine wouldn't hear of putting someone out of a bed that, after all, had far more than enough room for the both of them - and, as it was in fact much warmer with two people instead of one, they both slept very soundly and comfortably that night.

Claire awoke groggily the next morning to a deep sigh next to her and a muttered, "Oh, poor unhappy Erik…" She rolled over sleepily to see Christine sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing in particular and looking just as miserable as Erik had the night before.

"You know," Claire slurred, her voice still thick with sleep, "You really need to work on setting better boundaries, Christine." Christine looked at her curiously.

"What do you mean by 'boundaries,' Claire?" she asked, her eyes wide and inquisitive behind a delicate pair of glasses that Claire had not yet seen.

Right - that use of the term was probably something that wouldn't come about until psychology really took off in another few decades. Claire pushed herself up against the pillow, letting the heavy down cover slide off of her. After a moment of consideration, she decided to tackle the subject from a different angle.

"Forget it - my point is that you're focusing too much on Erik, and not enough on yourself. Your first thought on waking up shouldn't be, 'oh, poor Erik,' but 'how am I feeling today?' Worrying about Erik can wait until you actually see him in person again - hell, worrying about Erik can wait until the end of time itself." Claire was still not feeling particularly charitable toward him.

Christine sighed again. "But Claire, he's so miserable and alone! He said that I'm the only one who makes him truly happy - how can I ignore that?"

"Christine, women will be ignoring men who don't make them happy for the rest of eternity," Claire responded. "So truthfully, how do you feel about Erik?"

Christine looked down at her hands as she twisted her dainty fingers into little white knots. "Oh, I don't know… I am grateful to him for how he has helped my voice grow into what it is now, but I must admit, he fills me with… with horror. Oh Claire, I must be a terrible person to think such things!"

Claire shook her head vehemently and pulled Christine into a gentle hug. "No. No, you stop that. Erik kidnapped you and hurt you. Taking away his mask was… not your best moment, but it doesn't make you a bad person, and neither does being horrified by Erik - he's been, well, less than the gracious host I made him out to be."

Christine laughed unexpectedly at this, and the delicate sound brought a cheerier atmosphere to the dim underground room immediately. "Thank you Claire," she replied. "You've been very kind to me since I came here. I do hope that Erik will change his mind and let me leave - but if I must remain here I'm glad to have someone else to talk to."

Claire smiled at her in return. "Don't worry about that - I said I'd make sure to get you out of here somehow, and I will. Right now, just worry about taking care of yourself - I'll make us some breakfast."

The two women left the Louis-Phillipe room and made their way to the small kitchen. They found the main area of the house empty, as Erik had presumably either locked himself away in his room to wallow, or had left to stalk around "his" opera house in a huff. As Claire readied a few dishes to prep their meal, she noticed a handful of wet and scattered ashes in the sink basin and more caught around the drain, too big to easily wash away.

"Hey Christine?" she called over her shoulder. "Did you or Erik burn something"

Christine joined her by the sink and nodded solemnly. "I burned his mask, to convince him he could believe I was not afraid. I… I feel that may have been a mistake."

Claire shrugged. "What's done is done. Anyway, I think I prefer him without the mask."

Christine looked at her in shock. "C'est vrai?!" she exclaimed. "I mean - Really? I thought I did well to hide my horror, but you actually want to see his.. His face?"

Claire shrugged again and nodded. "I could never quite tell what the man was thinking when he was wearing that black silk mask. I mean, he could still end up having a great poker face, who knows? But I mean, still."

Christine shrugged in apparent disbelief and wandered off to find Erik's cat while Claire pulled together a basic breakfast for the two of them. Normally she would attempt something more interesting than scrambled eggs and toast, but as it turned out the ice box was rather bare - she assumed Erik hadn't been out shopping for fresh foods in a few days, what with the absolute whirlwind life had become.

No matter - they had enough sustenance for now, and she could bother Erik for a trip to the market later. She finished dishing up the eggs and carried their breakfast to the table, to be joined shortly after by Christine.

The morning thus passed by amicably, with Christine and Claire chatting lightly about their normal lives (edited heavily by Claire so as not to reveal anything about having come from the future), their predicament, and what they planned to do as soon as Erik stopped being such a drama queen and let them out of the underground lair. Claire, of course, didn't too much mind being cooped up here - it certainly felt safer than wandering around 1880s Paris - but having made a friend she did quite fancy the idea of going for a walk in the sun together when the weather warmed up.

Christine, still exhausted, finally announced that she was going to take a mid-afternoon nap and retired to the Louis-Phillipe room, leaving Claire alone with her thoughts. Finally able to do so, she fetched her phone from deep in her dress pocket and skipped forward in her e-book copy of Phantom to see how this was supposedly going to turn out.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem she had had much of an effect on history as of yet.

Aside from being there to provide comfort, nothing had changed - true to form, Erik had promised at first only to keep Christine for 5 days, Christine had torn off his mask (and later burned it) and Erik had changed his mind about allowing Christine to return home. Unless she could find a way to change things, it seemed that history was going to play out more or less exactly how Gaston Leroux had recorded it - clearly she would have to try even harder.

"Why am I doing this?" she wondered to herself. Even she couldn't figure out why she so desperately felt called to change history. "Isn't there a whole 'butterfly effect' that I need to be worried about?"

But she still found herself crossing the room to Erik's door, determined to strongarm him into letting Christine go - if not immediately, then at least after the 5 days he had originally promised. She hesitated as she reached the door, then knocked three times as confidently as she could.

Several tense seconds went by. Just as she began to think that Erik might not be in after all, however, the door swung open ever so slightly, and a hushed, slurred voice wafted out.

"Come in…"

Claire pushed the door open fully and found herself face to face with a clearly very tipsy Erik. A bottle of some kind of liquor sat nearby on a table, and as she attempted to make eye contact with him she could see him swaying on the spot ever so slightly.

"Erik, you're drunk," she stated simply, a smile playing at the edges of her mouth. "It's barely past noon, and you're drunk."

Erik narrowed his eyes at her, his brow furrowing. "And if I am?"

Claire shrugged and swept past him to the table with the liquor bottle. "Salud," she toasted him, raising the bottle in the air before downing a proper shot of what turned out to be cognac.

"What are you doing?!" Erik cried, nearly tripping over himself as he followed her to the table.

Claire set the bottle back down and sat on the floor next to the table, leaving the only chair to Erik, who clearly needed it more. "Hey," she responded, "if you're gonna daydrink, you might as well not be drinking alone." Erik eyed her suspiciously for a minute as he lowered himself into the black velvet armchair, then finally shrugged and took a swig from the bottle before handing it back to Claire.

"I suppose," he muttered darkly. "I wouldn't know - I always drink alone."

"Always time to try something new," Claire suggested after downing another shot from the bottle. "At least this way you have someone to talk to."

Erik was still studying her carefully, clearly unsure what to make of her intentions. "Are you sure you're not just here to berate me some more?"

Claire fought the urge to roll her eyes with some difficulty and handed the bottle back to Erik, who took one last swallow and set it on the table. "Look - I'm sorry I blew up at you last night," she said. "To be fair, you were being a jerk - but you did have good reason to be a jerk. I'm just here to see how you're doing and make sure you're taking care of yourself - which," she gestured vaguely at the half-empty bottle, "I don't know if that counts toward taking care of oneself - but I'll allow it."

Erik gave a short and unexpected laugh at this, then moaned quietly and let his head sink into his hands. "Oh, Christine…" he muttered. "What am I going to do? She must hate me."

Claire leaned back and looked up at him. "Are you actually looking for advice?"

Erik peered at her through his spindly fingers at her. "Why do I feel like you're going to give me some whether I want it or not?"

Claire smiled disarmingly at him. "Clearly you've gotten to know me, at least a little. But for real - right now Christine's trust in you is pretty shaken, right? So far she's been… hesitant about sharing her full emotions, but I can tell she feels unsure about anything right now - her image of the Angel of Music has been shattered, the person she once trusted with her voice turns out to be a recluse who lives under the opera house, and the same man frightened and even hurt her - you're going to need to rebuild that trust, and as much as I know you don't want to hear it, the best way to do that right now is to keep your promise and let her go, at least after the 5 days you initially claimed."

Erik groaned. "If I do, she will surely flee with that insolent young man who hangs around her. Who would choose to spend their time with a… with a monster when they can live their life surrounded by light and beauty?"

"Dude- Christine deserves more credit than that. Not just from you, from everyone." Claire retorted, perhaps a bit snappier than she intended. "She's stronger than you think, Erik."

Erik's hands slowly dropped from his face as he peered at Claire curiously. "Who do you mean by, 'everyone?'"

Shit.

Claire thought fast. "Uh, no one in particular- it was just something Christine said, about, well - about not being taken seriously." She had been talking about Leroux and his somewhat flat portrayal of a brilliant young lady, her own memories of Phantom fans bashing Christine based purely on misplaced anger, and admittedly her own almost forgotten dislike of how she had once interpreted the character - so different from the sweet but sometimes feisty woman with whom she had made fast friends. "My point is that she's a capable, intelligent young woman, and that by assuming her to be naive and fearful by default, you demean her character."

Erik seemed to accept this explanation, and Claire felt her shoulders untense - she might have felt the need to "fix" the timeline, but she also felt certain that revealing to Erik that his life would later be catalogued in a "fictional" novel would be a very bad idea indeed.

After a moment of pensive silence, Erik sighed and leaned back in his armchair, clearly overcome by the combination of emotional turmoil and liquor. "But what if she does run away?" he mumbled. "I can't stand the solitude any longer. I'm so weary of being alone."

It was a shocking moment of openness from the usually closed book that was Erik, and Claire didn't doubt that it was at least in part the alcohol talking. "Well," she began slowly, "I may not be Christine, but I'm not going anywhere."

Erik looked at her with sleepy incredulity. "Even after everything that's happened these last few days? You would prefer to remain living underground with a… with a man such as myself, than to take your freedom and flee?"

"You make it sound so dramatic, Erik. I mean, I'd love to get out and get some fresh air again soon, but I don't dislike it here. In fact - I actually quite enjoy your company."

Erik laughed bitterly at this. "Now that is truly hard to believe. Even were it not for… this," he gestured wildly at his face to punctuate his point, "I am under no delusions that I am an easy man to get along with. I daresay that you'll eventually find a way back to your own time, and leave poor Erik behind as well."

Claire considered her words carefully. "It's true that I would like to return to my world - but my offer to take you with me still stands. Which - Hey!" The rest of her thought came tumbling out unbidden. "What's up with wanting to go check out the future when the one thing you want more than anything is here in your own time? Were you *really* planning on leaving Christine behind in the past? Or… I don't get it, why?"

Erik looked at her, suddenly stricken. "I thought that… maybe… perhaps medicine in the 21st century…" he trailed off, apparently unable to continue.

"Oh," replied Claire, still confused. Then suddenly, eyes widening in understanding, "OH! I see. And then you'd come back and…"

Erik nodded miserably.

"So when that didn't work, you - I'm just guessing here - went back to a previous plan to 'invite' Christine to your home?" Erik nodded again, and in the dim candlelight Claire just barely made out the sparkle of tears that threatened to splash down his face. "Oh, Erik."

Erik waved dismissively at Claire and her sympathy and covered his face with his other hand. "I would like to be alone now," he mumbled, "but I will… consider what you have said and come to a decision after I have rested." Claire nodded and quietly slipped from the room, leaving him alone to his thoughts.

Whether or not he did consider Claire's words would not be immediately apparent. Even so, the next few days fell into a comfortable rhythm, without further incident. To Christine's credit, despite her obvious discomfort with her older suitor's visage and mannerisms, she played the part of gracious guest well - and for his part, Erik acted the perfect gentleman.

After recovering from the emotional upheaval of Christine's arrival and his subsequent unmasking, Erik seemed to slip into a new role - that of host and caretaker. Each day, the two young women would arise to the smell of some new delicious meal, and would spend the day entertained by their host. Though his attentions were mainly focused on Christine, Claire noticed with gratitude that he did his best to include her in his shows of magic tricks, puppetry, and general storytelling.

In the afternoons and evenings, Erik would practice with Christine, and finally wrap up the day by performing for the two of them on the piano or harp at great length - on more than one occasion, Claire realized he had cheekily snuck an arrangement of one of the modern pieces she had shared with him.

And so four days went by like this in relative peace. Erik and Christine both kept a calm facade - Christine hiding her anxiety to leave as quickly as possible, Erik barely veiling his simultaneous aversion to being so exposed and desperation to keep the object of his affection within his reach. For her part, Claire did her best to keep her nose out of it aside from when one of them - usually Christine - would find a moment alone to vent their frustration to her.

On the evening of the fifth day, as usual, Claire found Christine warming up by the little piano in the drawing room, preparing for another lesson. Erik emerged a minute later, but to both their surprise he entered from the Louis Phillipe room rather than his own, and he carried a carefully bundled stack of what looked like Christine's clothing. Christine caught Claire's eye and raised one delicate eyebrow - neither had seen him enter the Louis Phillipe room, let alone with enough time to pack anything up.

"Ah, Christine!" Erik exclaimed as he caught sight of her. "I appreciate your enthusiasm for our nightly lessons, but I'm afraid we must postpone for now - it will take some time to make the trip back to the surface, and we don't want to delay your return home any later than possible."

Claire watched Christine's face as she was hit first with confusion, then understanding, followed finally by a wave of relieved gratitude. "Oh, Erik!" she gasped. "Am I really going home?"

Erik hesitated for an infinitesimal moment, then nodded curtly, his features tightly controlled to hide his despair and regret. "I did make you a promise, Christine. I'm certain you would find me quite disagreeable were I not to keep it - but I would like to… invite you to return, from time to time, to… continue our lessons in person." Every word was carefully chosen and measured, and Claire had no doubt that he had practiced this speech to himself at length.

In her joy, Christine seemed to forget herself and rushed forward, grasping Erik's free hand in gratitude. "Oh, thank you, thank you!" she bubbled. "Mama Valerius must have been so worried! And…" she hesitated and dropped Erik's hand, staring at her own in apparent disbelief at what she had just done and what she was about to say. "I believe I shall visit you again, Erik. Both of you," she emphasized, shooting Claire a glance over her shoulder.

A rush of tension seemed to dissipate from Erik, and, further, from the entire room. Erik awkwardly held out the bundle of Christine's belongings, and she hugged it tight against her chest, nearly beaming at the prospect of returning to the world above. "Well," Erik said after a moment, "we should be going. I will return in an hour or so, Claire."

Christine placed one small hand on the sleeve of his jacket, stunning him into silence. "Erik, would it be possible for Claire to come with us? I would be grateful for the company, and I know she hasn't had a trip out of the house in several days."

Erik hesitated, then nodded uncertainly. "I… suppose that would be acceptable," he muttered somewhat darkly. Claire suspected he feared that he may become a third wheel as the two girls chatted, but that denying Christine would be worse. "Claire, do you need to get ready?"

Claire grinned and shook her head rapidly, barely able to keep her excitement down. "Nope!" she chirped. "Just need to get my shoes!"

At last, some fresh air!