Disclaimer: I do not own POTO.

A/N: Okay, hopefully no one fell asleep during the first chapter. I think that the second one's better. There's a small twist in the end of this chapter that I know a lot of phans will be pleased about.

Chapter Two: An Odd Occurrence

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Christine opened her eyes to find herself in bed again. Beside her Raoul turned over harshly, shaking the bed and causing the headboard to bang against Christine's head. Well, that accounts for the pain… she thought, sitting up. The grandfather clock in the hall chimed four times.

"Raoul," she called, "you should get up now. The boat will be leaving soon."

Her husband groaned loudly but nevertheless sat up and swung his feet over the side of the bed. Christine slunk back down into bed, ready to return to her dream now that her headache had been taken care of. But Raoul saw this and made a disapproving face.

"Now, Christine, none of that. You know the agreement we made when we first got married: when I go to work, so do you." Raoul pointed sternly to her sewing machine in the corner.

"Very well," she sighed, knowing that she would rather not have an argument this early in the morning. If she had to get up, she did not want to fight.

For a few hours, Christine sewed steadily until her thoughts drifted back to Erik. She wondered what he was doing now, or whether or not he was alive, for that matter. When she left he was so distraught…

Christine turned her head. The bed against the opposing wall looked quite appealing. She could just go to sleep for a little while… Raoul wouldn't be home for hours and she had already finished the sewing for the day. There was nothing more for her to do until Raoul could come home and take the garments to the shop in the center of town. And perhaps sleep would bring her back to Erik, so that she may talk with him again. She missed their conversations greatly; talking with Raoul was nothing like talking with Erik. But perhaps that was unfair… After all, Christine mused, Raoul was brought up not knowing anything and Erik knew…well, everything!

Yes, a little rest couldn't hurt. And besides, didn't she owe that much to Erik…to his memory? If he couldn't have her, he could at least have her dreams. She didn't mind in the least…

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The next thing she knew, she was lying in the center of a large, soft bed, as familiar to her as her own thumb. The room was as it ever was; the small writing table still stood beside the bed; the marble walls of the bathroom poked out of the open door. Everything was precisely as she remembered it. Well, with the exception of that wardrobe. Her old one was neither so tall nor so broad.

Christine got out of bed and opened its doors out of curiosity. She was both surprised and confused to find not only clothes for her inside but also Erik's clothes. With wrinkled brow she shut the door to the wardrobe. It was then, for the first time, she noticed the plain gold wedding band on her finger.

Of course, that makes sense! Christine thought, remembering her initial dream, when she called Erik her husband. That is why they shared a closet. How odd that she didn't remember…

"Christine?"

Christine's heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She hadn't heard Erik enter the room. But he had, carrying a tray with a tea set. He laughed outright at her surprise, his voice forming a string of pitches, which almost seemed to be a song.

"Did I startle you, my dear?" he sang through his laughter. Christine could feel her face turn scarlet. "Oh, now I've both startled and embarrassed you! What kind of husband am I?" Erik took her gently by the elbow and walked her back to the bed. "Now get back into bed before you catch a cold as well."

Christine lifted up the sheet and sat against the headboard as Erik placed the tray on her lap and poured her some tea.

"Careful," he warned, pulling a chair beside the bed. "It's hot." She slowly brought the cup to her lips and took a small sip, although she wasn't thirsty, just to be polite to Erik. She had other things on her mind.

She placed the cup on the tray and looked him squarely in the eyes. His lips were turned slightly upwards on the good side of his face. "So," she said, "you and I, we're married, right?"

The room echoed with the roars of his laughter. He tossed his head back in a howl, and when he brought it back straight, said, "Yes, I believe so."

He seems different, she thought, happier. "When?"

His eyes sparkled in amusement and he bit his lip to stop another outburst. When he had controlled himself, he replied, "Three days ago it was a year and seven months."

"How was the ceremony?"

"Beautiful. Well…no… It rained for nearly a week before and all the way up to when we walked in the church. But by the time the ceremony was over the sun was shinning again."

It was Christine's turn to laugh. "You're lying!"

"I would never!" She frowned at him. "Well, maybe once or twice." He grinned at her and she returned it. "My dear, you seem better."

"Yes, Erik."

"But don't think that just because you convinced me you're better I'm going to let you sing tonight. You need your rest." He took one of her ringlets and began curling the long blonde piece of hair around his index finger. "You can't have another fainting spell. I don't know if your head can withstand another fall. I don't know if my heart can withstand it either."

No, she thought, he hasn't changed. He's still the same man he was three years ago. I just never gave him the confidence he needed to talk to me like this. Suddenly she had the greatest urge to take off his mask. She was hesitant to though; she remembered all too clearly what happened the last time she did. And yet, things were different now. They were married. She had surely seen…more of him than just his face.

So with a steady hand she unveiled her husband and looked upon his naked face for the first time in three years. Yet the horror of his face was nothing in comparison to the pain in his eyes at the thought of losing her. And Christine felt pain at the thought of hurting him, both now and so long ago. With a sob, she pressed her cheek against his scarred one. They remained like that for a few minutes until her sobbing had ceased and after that he held her against his chest until her crying had stopped also.

Erik was the first to break the embrace; Christine followed suit and sat back up.

"You should sleep, my love," he whispered, and with trembling lips kissed her forehead. Christine's skin tingled at the place of contact, but it wasn't an unpleasant feeling. No, not at all.

She nodded in response to him, her husband, Erik, and slid down under the covers. Erik tucked the blanket around her and squeezed her hand, turning to leave with the tea.

"Erik," she called, "I have one more question."

"I hope this one's as entertaining as the others," he said softly while replacing the mask.

"Where's Raoul?" Christine asked boldly, though flinching at the thought of what Erik would do when she said the name of his enemy.

"Raoul?" he asked, confused. Christine nodded. "My dear, I've never known anyone named Raoul." He gave her a puzzled look but, having nothing else to say, gave her a small smile and left the room.

What? Christine thought, completely stupefied. He doesn't know Raoul! He wouldn't lie to me now… And I can tell from his face (or half of it) that he truly had no idea who I was talking about. How odd. But then if Raoul and Erik never met…

Christine could not even finish her thought before a deep sleep came over her and her eyes, almost unwillingly, closed.