Disclaimer: We don't need to tell you this, but you know, it's just here. We don't own 'Phantom of the Opera', though we would like to. That belongs to Gaston Leroux and the rest of the wonderful (or not so wonderful… * coughcoughFORSYTHEcoughcough*…) geniuses who have brought this story to life. Don't bother suing us; we don't make a penny off this.
Summary: A phic exploring the possibility of another person sharing Erik's face.
A Story of Love By Lady Death & L'Ange de Folie
(A/N: Sorry, the formatting is being insane…)
* * *
The next morning, Christine waited
for Erik to emerge from his room.
She waited patiently in one of the
front rooms, half-heartedly skimming over a dull novel she selected at random
from a bookcase. She didn't actually read, but was focusing all her
concentration toward listening for any sounds of movement or life upstairs. No
such luck. She waited, but heard nothing at all. One hour crawled slowly by in
uncomfortable silence.
Two hours.
Then three hours.
Christine frowned, feeling a little
concerned. She stood up, placing the book on a nearby table. Shaking her head,
she assumed he'd overslept. Unsure what to do, she took a gamble and decided to
go up and fetch him herself.
Does Erik really sleep, though? Christine asked herself. Well, oversleep I mean. He's a rather light sleeper and… doesn't really sleep all that much…
She continued to frown and she climbed the stairs. Lost
in her odd musings, she rounded a corner and literally crashed into someone.
Shouting in surprise, she scrambled
away from the wreck, instantly wondering if she had hit Erik. It was very
possible, Erik made little or no sound when he walked and moved and she
definitely could have hit him. She glanced up in panic and sighed in relief
when she saw a mess of ruffled blond hair.
She exhaled sharply. "Raoul? What
are you doing up here?"
Raoul blinked, looking rather dazed.
"I was just leaving the attic."
It was Christine's turn to blink in
surprise. "The attic? But why?"
Raoul quietly looked at Christine
and shook his head. "It's of little concern." He sounded a little unsure, but
Christine let it slide. He yawned. "I'm going downstairs to get dressed. I'll
see you in a little bit, dear. Then we can… get to work." His brow furrowed and
he got up from the floor. He yawned again and stumbled down the stairs.
Christine shook her head feeling a
little confused over Raoul's behavior. She attributed it to her husband's late
night. She did feel him tossing and turning in bed last night and she concluded
that he hadn't slept well. But why had he been up in the attic? She sighed and
continued on her way to Erik's room.
As she neared the door, she couldn't
help but bite her lip. This hall was in a more remote part of the house, away
from the servant's quarters and away from her own room. She thought that Erik
wouldn't mind being so secluded. This wing of the manor didn't scare her at
all, but knowing that Erik was in there almost tempted her to stay away.
Wouldn't he come out in his own due time? He wouldn't really want her to come
barging in…
She felt a strange feeling of
impending doom as she continued to move closer. The door, seeming so ordinary
before now seemed to be the gateway that led to hell. Christine tried to quiet
her mind of such thoughts. She shook her head and attempted to untwist her
stomach, which was now threatening to tie itself into knots.
You're just being silly. Christine thought. Bother, what's the worst he could do?
It's not like he would… hurt me.
Christine took a deep breath and before her mind could scream out another
warning, she rapped lightly, almost hesitantly on the door.
"Erik?" she called gently.
No answer.
Christine knocked again, a little
louder and called once more, thinking that perhaps he hadn't heard.
That's absurd, Christine. You know very well his hearing is better than most. He would hear that…
Again, there was no response. She bit her lip. What now? Was he sleeping? Was
he hurt? The thought jumped out from her melee of ideas and her heart pounded.
What if he had had another attack? She continued to chew on her lip. Images of
Erik lying motionless on the floor bombarded her mind and made her stomach want
to turn. She laid her ear against the door.
Well, there wasn't any harm in
trying… her mind returned to an earlier thought.
What is the worst he'd do?
Taking a deep breath, she quickly turned the doorknob and was surprised to find
it unlocked. Feeling bewildered, she stepped inside and found the room
completely empty. Her eyes glanced over the bed and she saw that it had been
immaculately made.
What if he left? Christine thought frantically. Where could he have gone? I would have seen him if he had left!
Another part of her mind answered back. Silly girl! You know very well that
no one sees Erik unless he wants them to.
But… why would he leave?
Christine turned to run back into
the hall and call for Raoul. She didn't know what he would do, she knew that
Raoul would care minimally, but…
…She almost screamed as she ran
headlong into Erik, who had evidentially been standing right behind her. She
stumbled backwards, unused to being in such close proximity with him. Had Erik
not been wearing the mask, Christine would have see a small, amused smile
playing across his face.
"You nearly scared me to death!" she
exclaimed in shock, collapsing into a chair. "Why were you standing there?"
"I might ask you the same question,"
Erik asked coolly, folding his arms underneath his cloak.
"Oh!" Christine replied, taking a breath to regain her composure. "I came
looking for you. I started to wonder when you never came out."
Erik nodded his head.
"I am sorry," he murmured. He looked
as if he would say something more, but sounded as if he had overridden whatever
he was going to say with something else. "We had best be getting downstairs…
I'm sure your husband will be wondering what is taking so long." Christine
heard suppressed bitterness in her voice and suddenly felt a pang of guilt.
Christine bobbed her head and led
the way back to the sitting room. Erik followed silently behind as usual, but
she could tell that something was weighing on his mind and for some reason; she
knew that she'd never be able to understand.
Christine frowned at Erik's demeanor. Is he as anxious about
this as I am? Or perhaps… it's something else… Have I upset him?
They continued to walk in silence, Christine feeling as if she was unable to say a word to the man following behind her. She dearly wished to, but it seemed as if her vocal chords did not want to work. She sensed an almost imperceptible uneasiness about Erik and it felt very disconcerting in her opinion. She also noticed as they moved further on, she could feel his quiet distress diffusing into her own being.
They finally reached ground floor sitting room, to Christine's relief. She sat
gingerly down into the nearest chair. Erik chose to stand and stare outside one
of the large windows and into the garden. She felt him relax a little and in
turn, she felt a little more comfortable.
To be truthful, Christine hadn't even planned beyond getting Erik to Chagny
Manor. She had decided that just getting this far would be an ordeal in itself
and had chosen to take the whole project in steps. Well, now she had come to
the end of her plan and had nowhere to go. With this part accomplished,
Christine suddenly felt uncertain. Perhaps she had just assumed that Erik would
know what to do and take over from here. However, seeing how Erik had been so
quiet and withdrawn as of late, it seemed very unlikely. It looked as if she'd
have to keep going at this, then.
As Christine tried to spark an idea on how to proceed with the rescue, but
nothing would come. Planning was never her strongest suit… She shook her head.
I'm sure Erik will definitely want to see the boy himself… Christine
thought to herself. …But that would mean going to the fair… She gnawed
delicately on her lip. He told me himself that he despises them…
She wasn't sure if that was wise, taking Erik to the fair. He was known for his
temper and she didn't want any sort of scene… any public spectacle would drawn
unwanted attention and that was something they didn't need happening… But, Erik
would have more common sense than that, wouldn't he?
And yet, Christine thought. If he wants to go, you can't very well
stop him.
"Erik?" she inquired softly and tried to keep her voice from jumping as Erik turned to her, his masked face regarding her calmly. "Do you mean to attend the fair today?"
Erik was silent for a long time before he responded, sounding resigned.
"Of course. It seems I haven't a choice."
Christine nodded, trying not to betray her tumultuous emotions.
Raoul chose this moment to enter the room. He held a steaming cup of hot tea in
both hands and had opened his mouth to greet Christine.
He suddenly snapped it shut as he caught sight Erik. Raoul immediately crossed
the room towards Christine and stood beside his wife. As she watched Raoul with
his tea, she suddenly remembered that she hadn't had anything to eat all
morning. She lifted her eyes to glance at Erik and to see if he wanted
something to eat, but quickly closed her mouth.
Raoul had put himself between Erik
and herself. Raoul glared at Erik in an open display of distrust, and Christine
saw Erik's eyes glitter in what looked like amusement. The three stood there,
(or sat in Christine's case) for an unbearably painful amount of time. Time
continued to pass and finally the tension was so thick and oppressive that
Christine wanted to scream. At length, she cleared her throat to break the silence.
"Erik and I are going to the fair,
dear," she said, almost laughing at the suddenly look of shock registering on
Raoul's face. "Would you like to come with us?" She pleaded silently, hoping
that Raoul would come. Should Erik loose control, she didn't relish the idea of
trying to retrain him all by herself. Raoul was rather strong, despite the way
he looked. He was a sailor, after all… He'd be of good use…
…She almost smiled. If she and Erik
were going, Raoul wouldn't let them go by themselves as long as he had breath. Of
course he'll come… My adorably overprotective husband, she giggled inwardly
at the title, is not going to leave his pregnant wife alone in the company
of an admitted murderer. For all Raoul's flaws, she still loved him dearly.
Raoul scrutinized Erik for half a
second before he looked Christine in the eyes.
"Certainly, Christine. Let me finish
this," he indicated his cup of tea, "and I'll call the coachman."
* * *
Raoul had finished his tea very quickly and called the coachman just as fast, true to his word. Erik had taken that time to disappear and Christine hadn't even noticed he was gone until he walked through the sitting room doors again. It was a surprise when she saw him, not only because she didn't see him leave, but because his clothes had changed. He no longer wore the perfectly tailored dress clothes she had always seen him wear, but a casual, yet still strangely formal outfit. Enthralled by this odd sight, Christine forgot her manners and stared openly.
However, when she realized that Erik was staring right back, she quickly threw
her gaze off of him and blushed. She had forgotten how self conscious Erik
could be at times and now that he was doubly out of his comfort zone, she could
tell he was not at ease.
After a few moments of halting, brief, almost curt conversation, Raoul walked back into the room, announced that everything was in order and they were off.
* * *
(A/N: Well, here you are…! Like it? Hate it? Leave a review! Many, many thanks to all who have reviewed so far! We love your feedback! Also, formatting insanity strikes again, so apologies…)