Chapter 4-Dreams
Christine felt bad that Erik had to sleep on the hard, dirty floor, but she knew that he wanted to make her comfortable. Turning from Erik, she wrapped the quilt around her body and fell asleep quickly.
The Opera House was being consumed by flame in front of Christine's eyes. Somehow, she knew that both Erik and Raoul were in there and she had to help them.
Christine dashed up the steps and into the inferno. Smoke burned her lungs as she made her way through the flames. Suddenly the smoke thinned and she could see Erik and Raoul on the floor, Erik covered in blood and Raoul passed out cold.
"Oh my God!" Christine gasped. There was no way that she could carry both of them out. She had a decision to make. She continued to walk towards the two when the floor gave out underneath her. Falling into darkness, Christine screamed. No one could help her now.
Christine woke up with a start. She was out of breath and drenched in sweat. She looked at Erik who was sitting up looking at the fire.
Erik was staring the flames of the candles and the oil lamps, alternating glances to Christine, who had curled up in the blankets on the bed and was fast asleep. He sighed, trying to warm up in the blanket as he stared at the warm flames. His mind kept running the events of the evening over and over - and of events of the last few months. An hour passed by - as a sleepless exhausted Erik nearly drowned in the thought flooding his mind.
He didn't quite understand why Christine returned to him - and wondered if it was just a set up for another stab to the heart. He was deeply happy that he was with her - but since he was only accustomed to a life filled with unhappiness - he expected an axe to fall any time he felt happiness. He didn't know what the future would bring - and now that he had been forced from his underground home - he had to admit deep down he was very apprehensive to what he was going to do now. He couldn't just walk about like a normal man in broad daylight. Would Christine be happy with him - seeking refuge in the night?
Then there was Raoul. Erik knew that the Vicomte wouldn't let Christine go so easily. He imagined the man was looking for them with vengeance on his mind at that very moment. Well....Erik would be ready for him. He did have his sword with him...and mark his words - he wouldn't let himself fall in their next duel! The loss in the graveyard
His thoughts were interrupted by a whimper and a soft cry from the bed. Erik's head snapped up with alarm as he spotted Christine bolt upright in bed in a sudden fright.
"Christine?" He asked quickly, his rich melodious voice filled with concern. He quickly got to his feet, dropping the blanket as he approached the bed. He didn't want to scare her more in her frightened state - so he turned his head in such a way so that she wouldn't see the mangled part of his face and head in the revealing glow of the candlelight. As a second thought - he reached to the dresser where there was a pitcher of cool water and a basin, as well as a couple of ceramic cups. He poured a glass of water for her and offered it carefully.
"What is wrong?" He implored softly.
Christine turned to Erik, accepting the cup of water he had handed her. "I had a nightmare; I went back into the building for you and Raoul and you were both near death. I couldn't help both of you like I wanted to, but when I started walking, I fell through the floor. I just kept falling..." she said, tears forming.
Christine wrapped her arms around her Phantom, letting the tears fall. "I wanted to help you both...I couldn't let you die..."
Erik listened quietly as Christine described the nightmare - not knowing what to do other than being there for her to listen and just...be with her. His heart ached to see her in distress - and he wished that he could erase the memory of the nightmare from her...and wipe every tear from her lovely face. His hand rose to almost do that - but faltered just before he could reach her hair. He lowered his hand - but then Christine suddenly threw her arms around him, holding herself tightly to his chest.
Erik stiffened with a gasp at the sudden contact...and started to shake as he raised his arms to hold Christine close. He could hear her crying and he could feel her warm soft body shaking in his arms.
"Christine…" He whispered barely audible, bowing his head and feeling the softness of her hair caress his face. "We are safe now. I will never let harm come to you."
Christine looked up at Erik. "Can you stay here with me? Please? Besides, the floor is dirty and hard and cold..."
Erik froze and stared at Christine as she shifted away from him to leave him room with her on the bed. She....wanted to share the bed! He never imagined....!!
She let go of Erik and moved over, making room for him.
"Please?"
"I...you....what...really?" He got out - actually speechless in this new predicament. He sighed, and looked away from her - not really sure how to react.
"If that is what you wish..." He said finally in a soft voice, before bending to remove his boots and stockings - leaving him in just his white baggy sleeved shirt and his slim pants. Glancing at her and nearly quivering at the onset of this new experience, Erik slipped under the covers, finding the blankets still warm from her body. The spot he was laying in - was where she was sleeping minutes before, and his eyes closed briefly when he smelled the sweet smell of her hair in the pillow.
He didn't make any moves to touch her - but his close proximity to her was first and foremost on his mind.
Christine couldn't help but notice that Erik was tense. She leaned over and gave a quick peck on the cheek.
"It's okay; I won't bite, I swear!" she told him, giggling. She snuggled up to him and gave another kiss.
Erik gasped audibly and shuddered as she sidled next to him and kissed him on the cheek. On the deformed side of his face! He jerked as if touched by electricity at her second kiss and instinctively shied his marred cheek away from her. He felt suddenly ashamed that she was touching a part of him that he severely loathed.
He felt her arms around him...and slowly reached his arms around her shoulders - feeling the warmth of her fill him and ease the chills from sleeping on the floor.
"Forgive me my dear....I'm not used to....this." Erik said, not making eye contact and looking at the ceiling. It sure felt nice though....the delicious physical contact was more than he could ever dream of....
"Darling, it's okay. I love you regardless of what you look like. I think you're extremely handsome and that's what counts," she stroked his face. "Now try to get some sleep..."
Erik slowly turned his head to look at her, his dark eyes roiling with suppressed emotion. She had said that she loved him....called him by an endearment AND said that he was extremely handsome in nearly one sentence. He couldn't speak - for he wasn't sure if he could trust his voice at the moment. He felt her touch his face and stroke it....and trembling, starving for contact, he instinctively leaned into her touch like a content but shy cat.
Was this a dream...or was it real? How could he follow her suggestion and sleep when the object of his love and desire lay in his arms? He could feel every curve of her laying against his body - and the deliciousness of the moment was so perfect - he nearly wanted to die from happiness from it. He wished he could freeze this moment in time so that he could remain like this forever.
"Je t'aime mon ange..." He whispered tremulously - unable to express the fullness of the emotion that nearly glowed from his dark eyes. Daringly, he raised a trembling hand to her cheek and touched it reverently sweeping his fingers into her soft hair, caressing the sensuous curve of her neck.
Christine closed her eyes and smiled. The touch of Erik's fingertips on her neck felt delicious.
Erik began to sing Christine a lullaby. She could feel herself slip into sleep quickly.
Erik saw Christine close her eyes at his touch - and he found his mouth quirking into a very small smile. He wasn't used to smiling....and he found that while holding his angel in his arms and entwining his fingers in her soft curls - it felt good.
Humming softly an old lullaby he remembered from sometime long ago, Erik held her close and rested his chin on her head. He stroked her hair - finding the action soothing and sang the old romany lullaby softly in his angelic voice...and indeed it seemed that a voice from heaven was surrounding the two on the bed during the quiet of the night. Even the rain seemed to have stilled as if to listen.
The song finished, and Erik felt warm and languid under the blankets. Sleep would come easy now. He softly touched Christine's cheek with a gentle tenderness - adoration in his gaze.
"Sweet dreams..." He whispered softly as he slowly drifted to sleep.
The small bedroom was mostly quiet and peaceful as the Phantom and Christine slept on. The rain had settled to a mist and the neighborhood around them was mostly silent - the silence broken briefly by the bark of a dog...or the sound of a horse neighing in the stables below.
Erik shifted restlessly in his sleep with a low sigh. Sleep had fallen on him quickly shortly after he had sung to Christine - the action had quieted his mind enough to allow him to drift off. Now - his mind roiled once more, except this time it didn't leave his dreams in peace. Perhaps it was from the stress that had built up over the paste months...or the emotional turmoil and adrenaline that had transpired over the past 24 hours...but the result was a series of memories dredged up from the recesses of his subconscious that he most dearly wanted to forget.
In his mind - he was back in the filthy cage of the gypsies again as a child...without a hope of freedom, and putting up with one of the many beatings he had to endure. It was right before a show - and his master was whipping the fight out of him before hand.
In reality while he was sleeping - he had rolled facing away from the slumbering Christine, gripping the blankets tightly in his fists. He was curled tightly in on himself and his face tucked in his arms.
In the dream - images of leering faces clouded his vision. All laughing and jeering - women fainting and screaming, men and children throwing garbage into his cage. Suddenly to his horror, Erik realized that he wasn't a small child - but himself as a man...wearing nothing but ripped rags for clothing and ropes binding his wrists and chafing them.
He heard a familiar voice in his despair, and a light shone on one of the people outside of his cage. Christine! Oh, it was his angel!! Perhaps she was here to set him free....He reached out his bleeding hands to her in pleading supplication - filled with a deep shame for having her see him in this state but being unbelievably happy to see her at the same time.
Suddenly - Raoul appeared from behind her, and the light disappeared.
The two of them stared at him without reaction from the outside of the cage - as screaming and hollering people surged all around them. Erik tried to speak - but nothing would come out of his mouth. He couldn't utter a sound as he saw Raoul take Christine by the arm and start to lead her away. Raoul would point and hurl insults just like the rest of the crowd...and to Erik's complete horror - Christine joined him! No longer his angel of salvation - she had turned into someone no better than the people in the mob around his cage! Erik screamed silently then - a sound like an animal in anguish - a feral sound laced with pain and self hatred....
Not knowing that in reality - his voice was far from silent
Christine woke up for the second time that night by the movement of Erik next to her. He seemed to be sleeping, but was shouting incoherent things and tossing back and forth.
"Darling, darling, wake up!" Christine whispered softly. She shook his arm. "Wake up. Dear, you're dreaming. Wake up!"
The moment that Christine grasped his arm to give it a shake - it was if the blankets exploded around them as Erik burst into motion, suddenly pinning Christine beneath him with a painful cry of rage and fear. In the dream he was being grabbed and roughly handled by his gypsy master - and the built adrenaline manifested itself in a burst of self preservation.
Erik grasped Christine tightly and shook her roughly with incoherent snarls - fingers sliding to grasp around her neck but not squeezing tight enough to choke her air. His eyes were glazed and unseeing - face shining with perspiration in the light of the dimmed oil lamp on the bedside table. His contorted expression combined with the light playing across his distorted features really made him look like a demon of hell. He had the desperate look of a man betrayed - laced with paralyzing fear.
Christine screamed as her Phantom closed his hands around her throat.
"Wake up!" she screamed "Wake up before you kill me!" It didn't work. Christine resorted to fighting back as Erik continued to dream. She slapped his face and beat on his chest, anything she could do to get him to stop.