A/N: Thanks for the review, Amber. I'm still not sure how it will turn out but I do have several ideas. I'm still looking for a decent title, that's a bigger work in progress than the actual story.

Hope you like this chapter.

Chapter 16 – Decisions.

Erik grimaced at the tone of her voice, so different from thirty minutes earlier, when she was so weak and vulnerable. Sometimes he forgot that she was older now, with more years came more experiences and often more confidence. He looked at her, waiting for the accusations to start flying, of him 'stalking' her and of following her around, of course she had questions. So had he. But he wasn't sure if this was the time or place to address either. What have you done?

'Where is Raoul?' She screamed, face turning a deep pink. 'Where is he? What have you done to him?'

The room was silent with the question and the wind whistled outside the window. The temperature in the room had dropped with the mood and Erik found himself almost shivering as he looked at her. He hadn't expected that question and it shook him.

'Nothing.' He replied and looked at her face, still reddened, still furious. He wondered where the anger had come from as in Paris even in the most awful of situations her temperament had been soft and he didn't remember her ever really losing it.

'Liar.' She said, simply and stared right back at him, eyes burning him with their intensity. 'Where is he?'

'I don't have him, I am here with you.'

'And how is it that you are here with me?' She said, stepping closer to him. She glared and moved forward, arms by her side, emotions high and flaming. Erik stood perfectly still and watched her gain ground, what the hell was she going to do?

'Don't you think that if I wanted him gone I could have done it years ago?' His voice growled but somehow he remained cool.

'I don't believe you,'

'Listen to me Christine. I do not have Raoul, I do not know where he is. Do you understand? I am here visiting Antoinette Giry' He explained, still calm. 'She invited me over.'

Christine considered it for a moment and suddenly her hands flew to her face, tears escaping her eyes and sobs forcing their way from her hoarse throat. Erik watched in anguish as her body crumpled to the seat and she sat, weeping, almost forgetting he was there. Her back shuddered and her shoulders rocked as the sobs contorted her shape, hunching her in to the seat like a chastised child. He fought the yearning to grab her and hold her tight so she could cry to his chest and he could comfort her and make everything alright.

But he stood, frozen to the spot, staring at her.

'Christine…' He said, softly and she slowly lifted her face from her hands. Her eyes were damp and red, they looked sore but as quickly as it had begun the crying stopped. Something in his voice, something she had always been drawn towards had made her stop. She wanted to hear what he had to say and she wanted to hear it that second. She nodded for him to continue and with a sharp nod back he sat on the edge of the bed.

'I received word from Madame Giry that she wished to see me. Here. In London.' He said, clearing his throat with a dry cough. 'I knew you were here, it's true, but I didn't plan to see you. Only her, she is my friend.'

Christine nodded again acknowledging a truth she had never been told but had always suspected.

'She wanted me here to tell me in person that she is dying. It was her way of tying up loose ends, I happened to be one of them. I think rather of fondly of her and I'm glad that I saw her one last time before she leaves us.'

She watched his face for signs of emotion and as usual, she found none but she knew from experience that it was there, deep beneath the surface struggling to stay down.

'I was walking last night, as I couldn't sleep.' He lied. 'I saw you running. I saw that man and I knew you were in danger. Instinct told me to help you and then you passed out in my arms so I carried you here.' He said, sweeping his arm around to illustrate the room they were sitting in, it's stale yellow walls which looked dirty and old, the damp creeping in from above.

'Where are we?' She asked, still looking at him. He smiled.

'My palace' He quipped. 'Quirky, don't you think?'

Despite her attempt not to she returned his smile and wiped her face with her fingertips.

'It's certainly something' She replied but the smile faded and her mood became serious once more. 'So, if it wasn't you. Who was it?'

'I…' He stalled, thinking of the truth. 'I don't know.'

'Oh God, Raoul,' She cried. 'We must find him.'

'WE?' Erik exclaimed and stared at her.

'Yes, please Erik we have to rescue him.'

'What makes you think he's still alive?' He asked, slightly amused though hiding it well.

'He must be,' She said. 'He has to be.'

'Why? Just because you want him alive doesn't mean that he will be, Christine. Not everything revolves around your whims.'

With this insult she leapt to her feet, enraged, and bolted for the door and pulled it open but as quick as lightening Erik was in front of her, slamming the door back shut and standing in front of it. He glared down at her and she met his glare with matching force.

'Where are you going?' He snarled.

'If you won't help me, Erik, I will go alone.' She stated simply and he couldn't help but release a bemused laugh.

'Madame, how will you find him and if you do, how will you rescue him?' He asked.

She looked up at him, tears welling in her beautiful eyes making them seem larger and more forlorn.

'I must.' She said and wiped away a tear with the back of her hand. Erik quickly looked her up and down then grabbed her wrists pushing her back into the chair. He wandered over to the wardrobe and reached in for his jacket before turning to look at Christine, who was watching him carefully.

He walked back over to her and the air between them grew cold as the tension built in the atmosphere. He longed for a knife to cut it so that he could slip through the hole and away from the situation. She waited for him to say something and when he did not she sighed and told him that he could not keep her prisoner.

'Prisoner my lady?' He said, patronising her to her soul. 'No, you are not my prisoner, Christine. You never really were, you always chose to be with me and when you did not you were free to leave.' He looked at her and regretted her sorrow. 'But I won't let you go looking for him'

'Then I AM your prisoner, Erik.' She said and he scowled at her before reaching into the brown bag and pulling out a dress and shoes and handing them to her. His eyes drifted back over her sitting in front of him, helpless in a way he found strangely endearing.

'You are not my prisoner.' He said, plainly.

'I need to find him.' She said, pleading and he nodded towards the dress in her hands.

'Yes, but we can't have you catching a cold running around in the dead of winter to God knows where in your night wear can we? You'll slow us down.'