A/N: Well, thanks for the reviews, I have just started back at Uni for my last semester and so I am updating slower than I would like. Please forgive the short chapter but I have put in two… and this one contains Erik AND Christine… RR

Chapter 15- Pour Toujours

The room was eerily quiet as Christine sat staring at the mirror, resisting the urge to sift through the contents of the wardrobe. The sigh she let out was low and pained, the aching hadn't eased but the nausea had, much to her relief. She was propped up against the headboard, legs stretched out straight in front of her, when she heard the clicking of a key in the door.

She struggled to lie down on her front so that her face couldn't be seen properly because she still wasn't sure if she was right to assume the identity of her captor and didn't want to be caught off guard. She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing as best she could and feigned sleep, just as the door opened.

Erik walked in carrying a bag and closed the door softly behind him. He lay the bag on the first seat and quietly sat in the other, angling it to face the bed. She had rolled over, he thought, as he noted her hair spread softly across the pillow and covering part of her face. Her presence made the room a much more welcoming space, it somehow seemed lighter than when he had left, and he couldn't help but let his eyes explore the curve of her back and thighs.

He ran his fingers through his hair nervously and listened to the delicate sound of her breathing and allowed it to briefly soothe his mind. As he listened, his conscience drifted to places he thought only God could take him and it was a moment before he realised, or acknowledged, that her sleep was false.

He eased himself to his feet and slowly walked to the bed, sitting on its edge next to Christine, he sighed gently. At first he could barely look at her in the knowledge that by now she would know it was him, if she hadn't last night when she heard him. He glanced down at his hands and closed his eyes, his mind begging someone to allow this to be okay. Slowly he turned and faced her, her eyes were still closed and even with the blood on her face she was a statue, sculpted by the angels.

'Christine…' He whispered, softly. 'Christine, I know you're awake.'

Her eyes opened slowly and focused on his chest, he took in her beauty, even shattered as she was her eyes were soft and tender. She blinked and looked at his chest, his hands, his leg but not his face. He watched her discomfort with sorrow, he could not make the situation easier on her and he couldn't make it so that he was someone else rescuing her.

She couldn't look at him because she didn't know how she would react to seeing him again. It had been such a long time and in her mind she thought that if she didn't look at him then maybe he wouldn't be there and this wouldn't be so difficult.

'Christine, are you okay?' He asked, immediately recognising the stupidity of the question but what else could he say? What was there to say to her now?

'I'm okay.' She said with a small nod, her eyes still diverted to anywhere but his face. He stood, giving her some room and walked over to the bag. When he did she sat up and found the courage to look at him, he had changed, she thought. The mask was still brilliant white but his face was not so pale and he was not so thin.

He dug into the bag, pulling out a fresh towel and some sort of lotion he walked back over to her, this time his eyes avoiding her face. He held the small towel in one hand and poured some of the lotion onto it with his other anxiously he reached out and touched her face with the towel. He trembled as he wiped the blood from her cheek and gently pushed her hair back, cleaning her forehead. He washed her cheeks and chin and touched her throat before she reached up and took the towel away, finishing herself. He was surprised she had allowed him that much.

'Are you hurt?' He asked, hardening his tone. She looked up at him and her eyes locked to his for the first time. For a moment they stood the in what seemed like perpetual silence, a never ending second, a lifetime staring into each others souls. It was she whop broke it, with a blink.

'I think I am.' She replied, groggily and wiped her face over with the dry section of the towel.

'Where?' He asked and watched her carefully. She dropped the towel in her lap and touched her stomach softly.

'I was kicked…' She said and forced herself to swallow back tears of pain and anguish. He looked at her and the anger bubbled in his blood at the thought of someone kicking her delicate body.

'Have you been sick?' He asked.

'No and there's no blood, just a bruise from what I could see, I find it difficult to bend down to look. I'm not hurt anywhere else, not physically.'

Erik nodded and knelt on the edge of the bed, looking at Christine's face.

'Lie down.' He ordered and she did without question, she had no energy to ask questions. He leaned over and gently undid three buttons of her night dress, opening them up slightly to reveal the skin of her stomach.

She fought a gasp and the urge to grab him and tell him to stop. She knew from experience that he was not doing anything that would hurt her but her nerves jangled none the less.

He forced his hands to stop shaking and looked at the bruise. With a nod he stood and filtered through the bedside cupboard. He stood up and wandered back to the bed with another lotion.

He rubbed his hands together quickly, warming them, before pouring some lotion into one and then rubbing it into both hands. He then softly applied it to Christine's bruise before re fastening her night dress and standing beside the bed.

'There.' He said fighting the emotion from his voice. 'That will help, apply it a couple of times a day. It will bring the bruise up quickly and therefore it will heal quickly'

'Okay…' She said and he noticed how uncomfortable she looked. He knew that he shouldn't have touched her at all but her vulnerability had crushed him and he needed to help her.

It was a few minutes before Christine's mind began to work over and she got up from the bed, anger flooding her veins as she glared at Erik watching her. Why was he here? There was no such thing as coincidence and the realisation shook her to the core. Had he…?

'What have you done?' She yelled and glowered at him.