Chapter Two

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Christine looked at Erik, then gasped as they were once again bathed in darkness. Crying out, she lunged forward, trying to find him, and succeeded only in tripping and hitting the ground yet again. Refusing to move, she trembled and squeaked out Erik's name.

Erik placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm here, Christine," he murmured, then decided to take advantage of the darkness. "Can you see anything?"

Shaking her head, she swallowed hard. "No, nothing..." she said softly, rolling off of her stomach and moving to stand. Swaying slightly, she cried out and reached for Erik blindly.

Stay there, then.." he replied, moving back from her. "I'm going to change." He did so, folding up his costume and bundling it under his cloak, very glad it was dark. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Come, I'm ready to go."

Christine whimpered and clutched at his arm. "I..." sighing softly, she nodded and took his hand tightly in her own. "Okay, lead on." she whispered biting hard at her lip.

Christine whimpered and clutched at his arm. "I..." sighing softly, she nodded and took his hand tightly in her own. "Okay, lead on." she whispered biting hard at her lip.

Erik nodded, pulling her close and covering them both with his cloak. "Where do you want to go?" he murmured, kissing her neck softly. "I will go anywhere with you, Christine."

Christine shrugged, leaning against him. "Wherever you like." she murmured, closing her eyes against a wave of dizziness. Tell him! "Erik..." she began, trembling. "I... looking up at him with tears in her eyes, she whimpered. "I lied to you."

Erik drew away from her abruptly, glowering down at her. "You WHAT!?" he hissed, eyes flashing.

Blinking, she quickly reached out to grasp his arm. " Oh NO! Nothing like that!" she insisted, almost laughing at the confusion. "I didn't mean-- it's nothing important." She sighed heavily, feeling horrible now that she'd upset him. "It's nothing, honestly. Forget I said a thing." Leaning up, she kissed his unmasked cheek sweetly.

"Tell me, Christine," he insisted, brushing a finger over her cheek. He paused suddenly, remembering something, and pulled a small object out of his pocket, keeping it clenched in his hand. "Please?"

"When I jumped.." she faltered and looked down, although it made no difference, she couldn't see a thing. "My leg.. I... it just hurts a little, is all." she said, shrugging. "It's nothing."

Erik nodded, opening his hand. "I'll see to it once we get into the light," he murmured, kissing her cheek, and pulled away. "There is something I've been wanting to ask you."

Christine looked up at him with wide eyes. "Yes?"

Erik smiled shakily at her, dropping to one knee suddenly. He gazed up at her, and started to sing quietly, so only she could hear. "Say you'll share with me, one love, one lifetime...." He slid the ring on her finger, looking down at his feet. "Christine, will you marry me?"

Christine dropped to the ground and lunged against Erik, pushing her face into her chest. "Yes!" she cried, clinging tightly to Erik and snuggling close. "Oh Erik... yes!"

Erik grinned down at her, kissing her forehead sweetly. "I realize this is not the appropriate place for a proposal, but..." He pulled her face up to kiss her again, more passionately this time. "Come, let's get out of here."

Christine trembled and nodded, moving to her feet and gritting her teeth. Refusing to let on how badly she was hurting, she took Erik's hand in her own. "Well have to go somewhere for the night..." she murmured, looking to where she figured he was. "But where?"

Erik shrugged. "We could rent a room in a hotel, I suppose," he replied, kissing her cheek. "It would be too much of a risk to go back to your flat."

She nodded and leaned against him. "That sounds good." she murmured, clinging to his arm. "Shall we?"

"We shall," he answered, leading her to a gate behind the opera house. He looked around for a moment, then kissed her cheek again. "I'm sorry," he murmured, moving to the stables and harnessing the black horse to a carriage, then smirked wryly. "One last mark of esteem from the Opera Ghost."

Christine smiled broadly, moving to the carriage. Now bathed in the street lamps, she forced herself not to limp as much as possible, not wanting Erik to have to worry for her when she knew she'd be fine soon. Climbing into the carriage, she sat down with a sigh of relief and closed her eyes.

Erik watched her carefully, nodding to himself. He clucked to the horse and drove off to a nice hotel, pulling the horse up to the stables behind it. He got out and offered Christine a hand, passing her some of the gold from the bag he had taken earlier. "I think it would be easier if you got our room. Don't use your name, though. Use mine. Erik Destler."

Christine nodded, kissing his cheek, then hopping down and making her way inside. Reaching the counter, she looked at the man behind it, who was reading a paper. He looked up and smiled. "Can I help you, Mademoiselle?" he asked, and Christine nodded. "Yes, I need a room, just for the night." she said, and he nodded. "Name?" She bit her lip. "Destler." writing it down, he nodded, then handed her a key. "Do you need help carrying anything in, mademoiselle?" Christine shook her head, then rushed outside and waved to Erik from the doorway.

Erik nodded, moving out of the shadows, and came up to take her arm. He shot a glance at the man at the desk, then turned and made his way up the stairs.

Christine moved at his side, and smiled at the fellow behind the desk, who suddenly stood and rushed after her. "Mademoiselle! Wait, you look so very familiar he murmured, and Christine's eyes went wide. "Ah yes, I saw you sing at the Opera Populaire! I'd know you anywhere!" Christine shook her head wildly. "No, you must have me mistaken, monsieur!" she insisted, grasping Erik's arm tightly.

Erik raised an eyebrow, keeping the masked part of his face heavily cloaked. "You are mistaken, monsieur," he repeated, his voice soft and enticing. "My wife and I have recently arrived here from out of town. We have never been to the Opera Populaire. Tell me, what is playing there right now?"

The man shrugged, convinced by Erik's voice. "I'm not too sure, some new Opera I suppose. My wife went tonight to see it, so I'm sure I'll hear all about it. In fact, she should have been home an hour ago.." he frowned, then smiled to them. "Well, have a good night!"

"Thank you, monsieur," Erik replied faintly, pulling Christine up the stairs to their room and unlocking the door hurriedly. "Oh, God...." he shuddered, slumping down on the bed. "Christine...the chandelier..."

Christine quickly locked the door and moved to his side. "Oh, Erik.." she breathed, sitting next to him and putting a hand to his arm. "Do you feel remorse for it now?" she asked softly, looking into his eyes.

Erik gazed back at her, his eyes bright. "Christine...I..." He pulled her close, shaking. "I was not myself...." He trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut. "I can hear them....I can still hear them screaming."

Christine held him tightly against her chest, rubbing his back and resting her cheek on top of his head. "Oh Erik... I forgive you... and I'm sure God does too, I'm sure He understands that you weren't yourself." she breathed, rubbing his back. "I don't know what to say.." she breathed, kissing his forehead. "But the man who did that is dead now, right? All that is left is my angel?"

Erik nodded, still shaking. "God will not forgive me, Christine..." he replied softly. "God hates me. I am His mistake." He sighed bitterly, holding her tightly. "Perhaps it's just as well. I am a murderer, a beast."

Shaking her head, she drew back and cupped his face, feeling his mask against her hand. "No, Erik. He does not hate you... he could not. You have such a capacity for love... He does not abandon those who let love into their heart!" she insisted, leaning forward and kissing him sweetly as she stroked his hair.

"He has.." he replied stubbornly. "If He does not hate me, then why has my life been as it has? Tell me that, Christine. Why was I chained up and beaten as a child, put on display? Is that your God showing His love?!"

Tearing away from him, Christine crossed her arms over her chest. "But at least you're alive. Perhaps that's all he could do for you then. Maybe now he can give you more!" She stood, turning to look at him icily. "Maybe he sent me to you to make your life better, maybe that's why my father died!" Tears filled her eyes, and she turned from him. "But maybe you don't think I'm an improvement." she murmured sadly, walking toward the window. "All I know is that God has done something beautiful for me. He sent my Angel of music. What's so say he didn't send you an angel too?" She looked at him for a moment sadly, before looking out the window again.

Erik sighed, remaining on the bed for a moment. "You are an improvement," he replied softly. "And I will not deny that God sent you to me. You are my angel, you always have been." He moved to her side, looking down at the streets of Paris. "But I cannot believe in Him just yet."

Christine nodded, lowering her gaze and sighing. "I l love you, Erik." she breathed, keeping her eyes on her hands.

Erik gazed at her, trembling, and pulled her into a passionate kiss. "Oh, Christine, I love you too," he purred, running a strong hand through her hair.

Christine leaned gently against Erik, resting her head against his chest for a moment, then drawing back and walking to the bed. Sitting on the edge, she glanced at Erik, then subtly shifted her skirts, bringing them up a bit and looking at her right let. Her eyes went wide and she quickly pushed her skirts back down, then stood and forced herself to walk normally into the bathroom. "I... I'll be right out." she insisted, stepping in and closing the door tightly behind herself. Quickly she pulled off her dress and chemise, standing in just her corset as she examined her swollen knee and ankle. Her skin was already a dark purple, and the two joints were at least twice their normal size. Biting her lip, Christine found a towel and soaked it in cold water, then sat down on the floor and wrapped the towel around her leg, holding it tight and crying out in pain.

Erik jumped, hearing Christine cry out, and ran to the bathroom, fearing that somehow, Raoul had found them. "Christine?! Christine, are you all right?"

Biting her lip, she closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. "I'm fine." she called weakly, trembling and trying not to cry.

"May I come in?" he persisted, still worried. "Please, what's wrong?"

Christine looked down at herself with a worried expression. She was nearly naked and now her fiancee wanted to come into the room with her. she knew that this was highly inappropriate, but she also knew that Erik would be able to help her... right now she didn't think she'd ever be able to stand again. "Yes, come in." she called, keeping her eyes shut and swallowing thickly.

Erik opened the door shyly, blinking at the sight that met his eyes. He swallowed hard, but grit his teeth and walked in. "Is it your ankle?" he inquired, fighting to keep his eyes on her face.

Christine opened her eyes and nodded, lifting the towel and sighing. "And my knee." she murmured, reaching for his hand and pulling him to the floor. Immediately she laid down, putting her head in his lap and closing her eyes. A tear slipped down her cheek and she wrapped her arms around his waist. "It hurts so badly.."

Erik held her close, kissing her forehead sweetly. "I...would you like me to get something? I could have the innkeeper make a poultice."

Christine sniffled and squeezed Erik tightly. "Don't leave me." she whispered, pushing her face into his stomach. "Just hold me, please?"

Raoul sighed softly as he helped an older woman into his carriage. She was far from the woman he had been hoping to help step into the fancy horse cart, but they'd been completely unable to find Christine at all, or even the masked fiend who'd taken her. Finally, Raoul had been sent home, and a woman standing outside of the Opera House had called to him when he left, begging him to help her get home. Her arm had been poorly bandaged, and Raoul figured that she'd been in the part of the audience that had been hit by the chandelier. Agreeing, he asked where she lived, once having the directions, he told his driver. Now he was climbing into the seat next to her, and they were off. About ten minutes passed in silence, before they reached her home, a cozy inn just on the edge of the city. Helping her out, he then helped her to the door.

Walking inside with her, the man behind the counter jumped up. "Lily!" he cried, running toward her and pulling her into his arms. "What's happened to you?"

She rested her good hand against his chest and smiled up at him reassuringly. "Oh, there was a little accident at the Opera House... seems the chandelier fell down. Oh , don't look at me like that, it didn't hit me, I was just knocked down by the people all trying to leave, and I got stepped on. It's nothing too serious."

The man looked to Raoul then, and smiled. "Thank you, monsieur, for helping my wife home."
Raoul smiled kindly. "It was nothing, honestly."

The man turned to his wife then and touched her cheek. "Was the opera good, at least?"

She smiled. "It was quite.. odd, but I must say I was enjoying it immensely, until the soprano and tenor disappeared! That was when the chandelier fell, and everyone left... so I don't even know how it ends! That girl, the new soprano that you liked so much when we went to see Hannibal, she was there, as the lead again. Pity the show didn't get to be finished. And I heard a bunch of people shouting about trying to find her... I wonder what on Earth happened...

The man's eyes brightened. Why, not even an hour ago a young woman came in here with a strange man, she looked just like that soprano! But when I asked her, her husband said that they'd just come from out of town... he shrugged. Strange things have been happening today!

Raoul's eyes went wide. You say she looked just like Christine Daae? he asked, and the man grinned.

That's her name! I couldn't for the life of me remember it! Yes, she does, but she came in here under a different name. Destler, I think... he said, frowning.

Raoul forced himself to think quickly, and grinned at the man. Aha! It is here, I know a young woman who looks just like Christine Daae, and she was recently married to a man by the name of Destler. I've been searching for her! Could you give me her room number?

The man smiled, looking over his papers. Well, you helped my wife, so feel that I owe you, e even though I'm not supposed to do this... he smiled. But you're a good man. She's in room 19, monsieur.