Chapter Seven

Ayesha sat passively on the bed while Erik paced up and down the length of the tiny attic room. His temper was blazing and his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, resisting the frantic urge to wreck the entire room. The cat stiffened as the door was pushed open gently and Christine slipped through it. Two golden, cat-slit eyes remained on her as she closed the door with a soft click. Erik whirled on her.

His face softened and his eyes came to rest on his wife. She reached a hand to him and he grasped it instantly, pulling her close to him and she rested her head on his chest. "I'm sorry," she murmured into his shirt, arms wrapped around his middle and holding on with such intensity that he felt as if he could not breathe. "I'm so sorry, Erik." Her voice was broken with tears that ran down her face and choked her. "I never meant… this isn't how…"

"Shh, my love," he whispered into her ear, moving a curl back behind it. "How could you have known? How could anyone have?"

"You've been through so much. Madeleine doesn't deserve you as a son." She looked up at him with tears streaming down her face and it made him long to reach out and kiss them dry. "And you… you deserve much better than life has ever dealt you."

"I have you, my angel, and that is all I could ask for." He leaned down and kissed her, feeling her fall into him.

"Erik?" she murmured breathlessly.

"Hmm?"

"What… what did he do to you, Erik?" Her voice was no more than a whisper. She did not fear his wrath. No, she was long past that. What she feared was the tortured expression that overcame him at times when he spoke of certain elements of his past.

The expression came, though in a much milder dose than usual. He sighed kissed her forehead. "He wanted… He wanted me gone, I know. If I were there, he could never marry Mother. He said… that…"

"It's alright, Erik," Christine assured him. "If it pains you…"

"No," he answered with a shake of his head, his perfectly combed hair falling into his face. "He wanted to send me away. To an asylum."

"Asylum?" his wife echoed. "For the insane?"

"Yes."

"But, Erik! You're not! You've never been…"

He gave a mirthless chuckle as he murmured, "Down we plunge to the prison of my mind. Down this path into darkness deep as hell…"

Christine gave a pretty pout. "That doesn't count, Erik."

"Does it not?"

She smiled up at him and kissed his lips. "No," she whispered softly.

They both stiffened at the sound of the knock at the small door. Christine smiled up at her husband and moved toward it, motioning for him to stay where he was, if he'd please. She twisted the knob and poked her head out, meeting the – seemingly – gentle eyes of Etienne Barye.

"Mademoiselle," he began, but was quickly cut off by Christine's lips turning downward in a frown and her eyes becoming icy with a coolness that she rarely had.

"I am not 'mademoiselle,' monsieur! I can assure you of that."

A blush crept to the aging man's shaven cheeks and he bowed his head in a quick apology for the mistake. "I'm terribly sorry, Madame. I didn't… I thought-"

"Whatever you thought best stay in your head," replied Erik's wife with a huff. She wondered very briefly when her tongue had become so sharp or when she had developed enough of a backbone to stand up to someone who was nearly a foot taller than she. Perhaps when she had learned what true monsters were.

Those thoughts left as the man nodded quietly. "I'm quite sorry, Madame," he murmured, seeming to try to catch a glimpse through the small crack in which Christine was peeking through. "I meant no harm by my coming here. I thought your… husband dead, as did his mother, and even if I had known he was not, what were the chances?"

"Slim enough for it to be an odd coincidence," the diva answered shortly.

"You think I meant to come here the day he did?"

Christine heard herself let loose a gust of a sigh, regretting it as she did. She did not want this man to see her falter and she would not. She straightened her shoulders – could he see that behind the door? – and continued her best scowl. "And if I did?" she demanded.

A smile spread across the doctor's face and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "You're quite the little actress, Madame, as you should be with the roles you play on stage."

"Excuse me?" the young woman sputtered, unable to keep her composure with the man laughing at her.

The smile continued. "I fear that you are too sweet of a girl to have such a foul disposition, in any case of the matter. While you think you are doing well by Erik, I can assure you I have come to do him no harm. Please, Madame, if you'd let me pass?" He pushed on the door and Christine found herself falling backwards.

Erik caught her up before she had time to stumble and spun her away from Etienne, eye blazing with fury. "But you will break into the room and run over my wife, is that so?"

"I misjudged her size," the doctor mumbled, looking perfectly ashamed of his action. "I hope I did not-"

"Do shut up and leave," Erik growled, turning his back to the elder man.

Etienne frown and – not wishing to loose so easily – reached a hand out for the Phantom's shoulder. He was not prepared for the other to turn on him with such a fury as soon as his fingers touched the material of the jacket. Erik had him against the nearest wall with no warning at all, thrown up against it, eyes all but glowing with the fire that dwelt there. "What is it you come to do then, sir?" he hissed sarcastically. "Does it have something to do with one of your asylums? Or perhaps taking a child's only happiness, do you know you tried? Answer, sir! Man to man now is a bit more intimidating!"

"Erik… Please!" the doctor gasped, struggling with all of his might to break free.

"Erik!" Madeleine's frantic voice filled the room, but she did not have time to do anything but yell as her son released Etienne.

Christine hurried forward, alarmed by the sudden change in temperament. "Erik?" she whispered, half afraid to speak loudly as her husband seemed to stumble to the bed and sink down upon it. She felt panic rise within her as her hand grasped his own which was placed over his heart. His breath came in gulps and his face was as white as the sheets on which he sat.

"Of all… times…" he gasped, his teeth clenched together and his entire body shaking.

"What's going on?" Madeleine asked, her voice trembling as she approached.

Christine's eyes were wide with fright as she knelt next to him. "Erik? Is it another attack? Erik? Please look at me!"

He turned his mismatched eyes toward her and gave her a half smile. "I'll be alright, my love."

"Madame, let me take a look at him," Etienne said from behind.

"You will not touch me!" Erik growled with all the intensity of the Phantom of the Opera in premium health.

The doctor moved away, eyes wide as he watched the younger man loose any strength he'd mustered for the outburst and fall forward into his wife's arms, the small woman doing as best as she could to ease him back to the bed and not allow him to go tumbling to the floor. His mouth twitched into a frown and then back into a straight line as he moved slowly forward. "Madame… you must let me see to him. I swear upon anything you wish that I will not harm him."

"Stay away from him!" Christine sobbed. "If you hadn't come, this wouldn't have happened!"

"Child, you don't understand," Etienne tried to reason. "He is very ill. He must be seen by a physician!"

"I know he is very ill! He's been very ill!" A sob escaped her lips and she put her hands to her face, only to let them drop to her sides and then to her husband's pale face. "He took morphine for years, are you happy now, Doctor? Is it more the reason to call him mad? To try to take away anything he loves? I won't let you touch him. I won't… I'm not strong, but maybe… this once… I can protect Erik after all the times he's been willing to protect me." Her small frame shook with sobs as she fell to the bed next to him, her long, dark curls cascading across his still body. "Please leave."

The doctor watched her reaction and nodded slowly, moving towards the door and taking Madeleine's hand as he went.

"Etienne!" she gasped.

"There's nothing we can do here. Let her be with him." At the door Ayesha hissed and spat at them, ready to defend her masters if these two decided to return. She nipped at the doctor's ankles, growling something fierce even after the door had shut.

"Christine?" Erik's weakened voice reached her ears.

"Yes, my love?"

"Dry your eyes, my dear," he whispered with a smile. "And please get Ayesha. I'm afraid she'll claw down that door."

Christine smiled as she scooped the angry cat up and held her gently. "Shh, Ayesha. See? Erik's going to be just fine and that horrible man is gone." The cat seemed to understand her and relaxed in her arms.

Erik reached a hand out. "Stay with me?"

"Of course."

Migrating Coconuts 06: I'm glad mine isn't either! Stories like these make me more thankful than ever for my parents! (not that I'm not anyway lol)

Lost S: Yay! You caught it! I was hoping someone would! Christine didn't take too well to the misunderstanding, did she? Lol

AliciaRoseM: Thanks muchly.

Jo: Thanks! I'm actually writing out lyrics as they come to me along with the novel b/c I could see it on a stage… maybe. I hope. Most of my novels I work on I can at least see on the big screen, but this one would need to be on stage. Anyway, yes, so I hear about migrating coconuts… Must find some….. :goes off in search: