Chapter Two

Dinner was on the table an hour later and Erik found himself with less appetite than usual as his mother was sitting across the table. His mismatched eyes were focused on the food that was spread across the china plate, messing it around with the fork loosely held in his left hand.

"Erik?"

The dark haired man looked up, startled. Christine was watching him closely. What had she said? Oh blast! "Excuse me?"

A smile perked his wife's lips. "I asked you how you liked it."

He blinked twice, focusing his mind on her words and bringing her small smile wider across beautiful face. He sighed, shaking his head slowly. "I'm sorry my dear. It is wonderful…" He perked suddenly as an idea struck him. "Christine said earlier that you had something to discuss with us tonight."

Madeleine startled as she realized the words were directed at her. After a split moment she turned a half-accusing eye towards her daughter-in-law, receiving only an innocent look in response. "Well," she began as she set her fork down, dabbing the napkin to her lips, "I've been thinking." She watched her son's movements. He'd stopped his fiddling with the food at the sound of Christine's voice, and now with those words he lay the fork down. His eyes told her to go on, she had his attention. "If you don't wish to, I understand, of course."

Erik raised an eyebrow. "Wish to do what, prey tell?"

Madeleine drew in a breath. "I would like to invite you and Christine to Boscherville."

The room was deadly silent and it had suddenly turned icy cold. Or was it unbearably warm? She couldn't tell as her son's duel-coloured gaze bore into her. She couldn't read his expression behind his half mask and she wasn't all together sure that she would have liked to.

"To… Boscherville?" he echoed, voice slightly raspy.

"Well we didn't make arrangements to stay in Paris long this time," Madeleine began to stumble over an explanation. "We simply can't stay… But to have you there with us…" She turned away, unable to take her son's cold eyes any longer. "I understand if you'd rather not, but it would be lovely to have you."

Erik stood stiffly, his chair scooting back with a horrible sound against the floor. He gathered his plate –still with nearly as much food as he had begun with – and his wine glass. Christine followed him hurriedly into the kitchen and watched him pouring more wine into the tall crystal glass. What he wouldn't have given at that moment to restart his morphine addiction...

She frowned and placed a quiet hand against his arm.

"You could have warned me," he murmured, sipping at his wine. It was one of the very few times he wished that he did not have such a blasted high tolerance for alcohol…

"I'm sorry, Erik. She wanted me to keep it a secret." Christine clung to his arm, burring her face in the sleeve of his shirt. He felt warm tears soaking through. "I didn't think, Erik."

He sighed and pulled her against him, his arms wrapped around her tightly. "Would you like to go?"

Christine turned a set of tear filled blue eyes up to him. "Don't ask me that, Erik… It's not me that it might hurt."

"So caring," whispered and kissed the tip of her nose. "Ghosts must be put to rest at sometime."

A fearful expression crossed her features and she clung harder. "You said that about the circus and look where it got us!" she sobbed and felt his arms tighten around her slim frame. He was always protective of her, even if it were from her fears for him.

"That was different. She was after blood."

"And our sanity, I'm sure," Christine sniffled. "I can't… You shouldn't have to live through it twice."

Erik took a deep breath, calming his raging emotions. "Unless you should say that you simply have no time or no desire," he said slowly, watching her every reaction to his words, "I think that we should make a holiday of it. You'll find I take few."

His wife giggled at this. "I've hardly been back three months to the theater! What should I tell them? 'My husband decided to whisk me away once more'?"

He smiled at her. "Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin may just receive a note on their desk tops in the morning."

"Oh, Erik!"

He held up a finger to her lips, silencing her with the playful gesture. "Saying that their favorite diva will be out just a bit more time. How shall they complain? The current opera came to a close tonight and the next auditions won't be for another week to so. Perhaps more, if asked nicely." A smirk appeared from behind his mask.

Christine laughed at this, reaching up to kiss his unmasked cheek. "I love you."

"I fear I've made a mess of things," Madeleine murmured.

"Nonsense! Christine will help him work it out," Marie argued gently. She glanced back towards the kitchen. "That girl… She's just what he's always needed, don't you think?"

"I wish she'd been there all along," his mother sighed.

"Everything happens for a purpose, Madeline."

The two women looked back as they heard the sound of the couple exiting the kitchen. Erik had one arm draped over his wife's shoulders, pulling her close to his body and she held onto the tips of his long fingers with one hand, her other arm snaking around his back and clutching onto his other arm as best as she could. She smiled widely at their guests."When would you have us?"

"Boscherville?" Meg echoed, watching Christine fold a simple dress into a bag.

"It's where Erik was born," the elder woman said as if it were all the explanation needed.

"Yes, well, that's nice and all," Meg mumbled, "but what does that have to do with you picking up and going for… How long did you say?"

"A week, more than likely. Give or take a few days. It's a chance for Madeleine to try and mend her relationship with Erik."

"I wouldn't have seen him as one to throw himself head long into his past," the blond mused.

"He's not." Christine sighed heavily and took a seat on the bed she shared with Erik, her eyes distant and pained. "Erik's been through so much in his life and it seems that it's been tossed into his face so recently. The shah, the Gypsies…" She shuddered and wrapped her small arms around herself. "He doesn't deserve that. Anything he owed for the… for what he's done, he's long since paid in the suffering."

Meg reached a comforting hand to her best friend. "Maybe this really is a way to lay what's hurt him for so long to rest, hmm? If nothing else, he knows you will be right there with him."

"What good will that do against raging nightmares?"

The ballerina smiled sadly. "More than you know."

AliciaRoseM: Thanks so much!

LostSchizophrenic: I'm glad I could give you a pick-me-up! I hope your siblings don't cause you too much trouble. Be thankful for them, even if they do run amuck. It gets lonely when no one else is around :p

All Apologies: Your update is here!

Lizzie Black: I know! I got jealous writing it! (how sad does that make my life, eh?) I dated a guy once that the first flower he gave me was a single red rose and I fell head over heels (other reasons too, but that was a tradition he kept up until we broke up) It was lovely. I hope my husband does this someday for me… I have a tendency to like my most hated characters. I make them too likable b/c I just have to go and redeem them. Lol! Oh well… Good 'ol Madeleine. Without her there would be no Erik.

Clever Lass: Yes yes! It's my new story that I'm working on! I try to post a note if I put out oneshots.

FreakinIdiot06: Haha:p Don't we all?

Erik's Musical Angel: Yes, I know. That's why I like having Madeleine in here. She could be such a good character if people would give her a chance and let their muses run. Such lovely angst between her and Erik! Yes, the roses! I'm so glad everyone loved that as much as I did! A bunch of helpless, hopeless romantics the lot of us, right? Hehe…

TS