Chapter 9

Our passions may fuse and merge…

Author's note: I love this chapter…I think that it's my favorite. It's long too! I don't foresee more than two more chapters, everyone. I hope that you have enjoyed the story, and will hang in to see the ending…and thanks again to all who read and review!

Disclaimer: If I married Erik, would I own the Phantom of the Opera? Oh wait, I don't think it works that way…

And now, on with the story…

Erik was use to silence. When he wasn't composing music, the lair was naturally quiet. Erik, who understood that silence was a part of living alone, found it comforting, especially when he was trying to sleep. Occasionally, the splish and splash of the lake pushing against the lair bank would interrupt his sleep and awaken him, but when Erik found the time to sleep, he normally slept undisturbed. This day, however, Erik was awakened by an odd sound. He opened his eyes slightly to peer about. His vision was partly obscured by what appeared to be a brown, curly wall. He reached up and touched the mass of curls, and felt the silkiness against his bare hand. Erik heard again the sound that had awakened him, and discovered that it was the soft, rhythmic breathing of the young lady sleeping beside him. He closed his eyes again, and just enjoyed the simple nearness of Christine. She was small and delicate, and she still held onto him tightly in sleep. Erik looked at her as she slept. He had watched her sleep countless times, but this time things were different. This time, he wasn't simply an Angel watching a sleeping child. Erik was here with her, not as an Angel but as a man, and it was by Christine's own choice. Lost in his thoughts, Erik was a bit surprised when he noticed that he was staring into her brown eyes. Christine smiled.

"Good morning, Erik," she said rising up a little, and ending their embrace. She shook her head slightly, trying to gather her tendrils of hair, and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

Erik just looked at her. Was it possible for someone to look so beautiful in the morning? Erik pushed himself up from the bed, and twisted his body so his legs hung off the edge of the bed.

"I feel…," Erik looked as his body and did a mental assessment. Was everything working? Could he breathe correctly, and without pain?

"I feel surprisingly well. There is very little pain in my chest. My knees are still a bit sore…" Erik answered truthfully. Christine eyed him a moment, and positioned herself beside him.

"Perhaps you would like some different clothes? You're not wearing much." Christine observed, with a faint blush to her cheeks.

Erik glanced down at himself. He wasn't wearing a shirt, but there was a wide strip of ripped fabric tied in the back across his lower chest. He was glad to see no blood on the bandage; he was no longer bleeding from his serious wound. His pants had been cut just above the knee, and he knew that he must be covered in dirt, blood, and sweat. He looked at Christine. Christine's hair wasn't tied back, and she was fighting a losing battle trying to keep it out of her eyes. She wore a dress that was absolutely filthy; it had several rips in places that barely preserved her decency. That dress…it looked familiar…

Erik's eyes widened suddenly in recognition. It was his wedding dress! He had forced her to put it on! Horror and regret were prominent among the feelings flooding his mind, and Christine noticed his silence.

"Erik, what's wrong? Do you feel sick?" Christine asked with concern.

"I…your dress, Christine…I…had no right to force you into that dress…I can't believe that I-"

"Erik…we can't keep doing this. If we did, then we would never move on with our lives! This wedding dress doesn't matter anymore…I will simply need another one…"

Christine looked up at Erik coyly, to see if he had understood what she had said. The look of shock and disbelief in his face told her that he had indeed.

"After all that has happened…you want to…marry me?" Erik said with difficulty, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Erik, I love you! What more could I want than to be your wife?" Christine reached up and caressed his scarred cheek. Erik flinched, and tried to pull away. Christine held his face between her hands firmly.

"I love all of you. And that's all that we need."

"But it will be so hard! I'm not exactly in a position to where I can go in public. I can't take a walk with you in Paris, or take you to operas. You deserve much more than that, my dear. I won't condemn you to live here with me in my darkness." Erik said the words passionately and with a sense of finality. Christine knew that arguing would help nothing, but she tried anyway.

"We can make it work! We would have each other. As long as we have our love, then the rest doesn't matter to me. Do you think me so shallow?"

"Christine, you don't know what you give up so easily! I would give anything to be able to be normal; to do the things that most take for granted. I will never be normal." Erik said, looking listlessly at the floor.

Christine looked at him sharply. "That's fine, my dear, because I didn't fall in love with you because were normal!"

Erik sighed. He pushed off the bed gently, and was surprised to find himself standing upright without assistance. Erik reached his arm toward a nearby wall, and supported his weight. He grinned at Christine, who mirrored his smile. She rose from the bed as well, and came forward to hug Erik.

"I love you for the way that you make me feel. I love you for your music, I love you for your voice, I love you for your devotion. You are the only one for me, Angel. My soul-mate." Christine felt him gasp, and when she looked up in concern, she found his lips' meeting her's in a breathtaking way. The attraction was obvious, and it was like kissing lightning.

They broke apart reluctantly, but lingered in their embrace. Erik was smiling as he stroked her cheek.

"Thank you Christine. You have saved me in more ways than you can imagine."

Christine grinned. "It's too bad that I couldn't save your clothes…"

Erik looked at himself and shook his head. "Do you think that I would get embarrassed over something like clothes?"

"Or lack there of…" Christine said slowly.

Erik lunged forward and grabbed Christine by the waist, tickling her. She started gasping for air, begging him to stop. They were caught in the moment, just the two of them…

"Ahem!"

Erik and Christine stopped moving. They looked up in shock to find Madam Giry and Meg standing a few feet away. Erik moved away from Christine abruptly, but Madam Giry raised her hand to stop him.

"I always seem to interrupt, don't I?" She said with a smile.

Erik sat at his organ bench. His hands began to hover over the keys, as if his fingers had a mind of their own. No, now is not the time, Erik thought firmly. Erik felt much more comfortable in a clean change of clothes. He had washed himself up, and he felt that he looked presentable enough. Erik also had his mask back on. Christine had protested at first, but she came to understand his need to hide his deformity. Concentrate, his mind hissed at him. Erik tried to turn his attention back to Madam Giry, who seemed to be very agitated.

"Erik, have you listened to anything that I have said? There going to come after you! You have to abandon this lair, and in only a matter of weeks!" Madam Giry was slowly turning red, and she had planted her hands on her hips.

"I have understood everything that you have said thus far, Marie. I just don't understand why you are so upset about everything. If we have time, then it should be no problem to figure something out. You worry too much…"

"And you worry too little! Or have you forgotten that we're not just talking about your safety here!" The moment she said these words, Madam Giry knew she had crossed a line. Erik's eyes turned hard, and he rose uneasily from the bench to take a step toward her.

"Madam, you go too far. I care for Christine's life more than my own! Do not presume to tell me that I care nothing for her safety!" Eric loomed over her now. Madam Giry could not remember the last time he had been this angry, and she did the only thing that she knew would calm him down.

"Erik, of course I know that you care for Christine. I never meant to imply otherwise. It's just that this situation is much more than you realize," Madam Giry apologized quickly. She bowed her head. "Forgive me, I just worry so for your wellbeing…"

Eric touched her arm, feeling his sudden anger ebb away. "I know Marie, I know. But it helps nothing to panic. And I don't want to worry anyone unnecessarily," he said meaningfully, glancing at Christine, who was talking cheerfully with Meg.

"But Erik, where will you go? I have no relatives that could take you in; and I don't suppose that you have a house hidden in your back pocket!" Madam Giry retorted.

Erik gave her an odd look. "I think that I have something better…follow me a moment, Marie." Erik turned and started walking slowly toward the very back of his lair. There, located in a small alcove, was another desk. It was far plainer and simpler than the elaborate one in the center of his lair, but it seemed this one had a different purpose. Erik leaned forward and opened the two drawers on the left side of the desk. They were full of envelopes.

"Do you know what this is, Marie?" Erik asked, picking up one of the envelopes to show her.

"Those…those are all the envelopes that have contained your salary, are they not? Have you kept all this money all this time?

"Marie, when one lives alone, in an underground lair, one usually has to find excuses to spend money. I simply lived parsimoniously, for I envisioned that one day I would need a use for this money. And now, it seems I have found a worthy cause," Erik said, with a touch of dry humor. He showed Madam Giry the other drawers; they were full of envelopes as well.

"Well…I…that's so much money! Surely you won't trust me with this…" Madam Giry said, fanning herself with her hand. Erik looked at her seriously.

"Madam, I would trust you with not just my life, but Christine's. Please, take this and procure a house for us, preferably one just outside of Paris. Furnish it sparingly, for I know not how long these funds may have to last us," Erik said solemnly. Madam Giry nodded.

"Of course, dear. I will find something most suitable for you and Christine." Madam Giry turned to walk toward Christine and her daughter when Erik grabbed her arm. She spun around to find him grinning.

"There is one more thing I must ask…can you locate a suitable piano? That is the one thing that I need most of all…" Erik looked a little sheepish. Madam Giry merely laughed.

"That will be my easiest task!"

"Did he really go to see your mother, Meg?" Christine asked quietly, so that only her friend could hear the question. They were stationed near the lake, their backs to the gondola.

"Yes, I know, it's so strange…but Mother said that nothing bizarre happened or anything. She's going to talk to you about it, of course," Meg answered. She looked at her friend. "You need a bath!" Meg said, wrinkling her nose. Christine laughed out loud, and made an effort to push Meg into the lake.

"You'll have to do better than that!" Meg called, easily dodging Christine. Unfortunately, she did not see the stone lying on the ground, and she tripped, falling head first into the lake with a loud SPLASH.

"Oh Meg! Meg!" Christine exclaimed in surprise, and leaned forward toward the lake, trying to find her friend. Suddenly, hands shot up to the surface of the lake, and the next thing Christine knew was the shock of cold water on her face. She surfaced, and, gasping for air, managed to get a hold on her friend.

"What…did you do that for!" Christine spurted, spitting water out of her mouth in a most unladylike fashion.

"Oh come off it, it was fun!" Meg grinned at her, and dunked her under the water.

"That's it!" Christine yelled. She started toward Meg when she realized that there was two rather out-of-breath people in front of her. She grinned guiltily at Erik and Madam Giry.

"Um…hi?" Meg said, noticing the angry look on her mother's face. She saw this look at least twice a day.

"Meg Giry! Have you lost what little mind you had? What is the meaning of all this noise and commotion? Are you a little girl-child of eleven again? Get out of that water this instance! And you Christine, you are no better! A woman of seventeen, playing about as if she was child! You two should be ashamed of yourselves! Right, Erik?" Madam Giry glanced at Erik, who had his head in one of his hands. His shoulders were shaking.

"Your laughing, aren't you? You are?" Madam Giry said incredulously. "I can't believe this! Girls, get out of that water right this second! You will catch your death in a cold, mark my wor-"Madam Giry didn't get to finish her sentence. She felt strong hands against her back, and found herself pushed into the lake. Madam Giry poked her head above the water, and looked directly at Erik with a look of fury on her face. Erik let out the laugh that had been building for quite a while.

"I always get my revenge, Marie…always."

The girls emerged from the water, and quickly dried themselves off. Erik took up his place at his organ and began to play as the girls moved toward the bedroom area to change clothes. Madam Giry had to make do with her wet clothes, for she didn't have anything to change into. She was wrapped in a blanket, and snapped at anyone who spoke to her. Meg borrowed a dress from Christine, and helped Christine comb her damp hair. The whole time Erik played beautifully. Christine, dry and satisfied with her appearance, approached Madam Giry, who still had an angry look on her face.

"Madam Giry, Raoul came to see you, didn't he?" Christine asked timidly. Madam Giry glanced at Erik's back against the organ, and nodded at Christine.

"Yes, my dear, I did speak with him. He knows your decision. All of your decision."

"He knows that I have chosen to stay with Erik?" Christine gasped and covered her mouth quickly.

"There's more, I'm afraid. He knows that Erik is still under the Opera House."

"Oh no! What if he goes to the managers! What if he tells them about us? What if we are discovered?" Christine asked the questions in quick succession. She glanced at Madam Giry, and was surprised to find her smiling.

"My dear, that is an awful lot of 'what ifs'. Raoul just wants to see you happy, Christine. He will do nothing to jeopardize your safety."

"You are so sure Madam? Not even to get a chance at me?" Madam Giry whirled around to face Erik, whose face was flushed with anger.

"Erik, what could I have done? He knew everything before he even entered my bedroom. We have but one option: we must get you and Christine out of this lair, permanently, and as soon as possible." Madam Giry said carefully. Erik stood sharply, and lowered his gaze to Christine's.

"Please, Erik, nothing can help it now. It changes nothing if Raoul knows about us. If all that Madam Giry has said is true, then he will not come looking for us at all…"

Erik looked away from Christine. She saw the pain there, and knew that he had merely wanted her reassurance. She rose from her seat, and reached for Erik.

"Angel, everything will work out. We've already been through the worst. We just have to keep going, together…" Erik nodded slightly, and went back to his organ. This time, the tune was furious and fast. Christine winced at the dissonance in the piece.

"Perhaps Meg and I should go," Madam Giry said at last, motioning for her daughter, who was setting out food for her friend.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea…thanks for the supplies, my friends. I will actually be able to bandage Erik properly tonight." Christine kissed Madam Giry and hugged Meg.

"I left you a surprise, Christine! It's still in the basket!" Meg called out, earning another angry look from her mother.

"We might not be back for a few days…we're going to look for a house for you and Erik that will be suitable. All hope depends on us finding one soon…" Madam Giry called as the boat left the lair.

Christine approached Erik at his organ. He was still playing wrathfully, and she was afraid that he might hurt himself playing so soon after his injuries. She touched his shoulders, and his hands stopped dancing over the keys. Christine took the place beside him on the bench and they sat in silence for a moment.

Erik reached up and removed his mask. Christine glanced at him with a curious look on her face. Erik then rose from the bench, to promptly fall on one knee.

At first, Christine thought that perhaps he had hurt himself. She leaned forward to help him when he reached up and cupped her chin in his delicate hands.

"Christine, I know that I can be a difficult man. But hear me out. You have taught me so many things in the years that I have known you. Patience, kindness, compassion, and…love. I have never asked for anything in my life; I have always merely taken what I have wanted. But this time…I will ask…"

Erik reached into the pocket of his shirt and revealed the ring that Christine had returned to him. Christine looked up into his eyes, knowingly and lovingly. Erik reached for her hand.

"Will you marry me, Christine? Will you lead me from my solitude and loneliness? Will you save me from myself…" Erik slipped the ring onto her finger. Christine looked at the beauty against her hand, and then leapt into Erik's arms.

"Of course I will!" Christine gasped out her answer as Erik kissed her passionately.

Christine escaped from him and grabbed him by the hand to help him from his position. "Come, my Angel. There is a meal prepared for us. We can celebrate!"

Erik graciously accepted Christine's hand. "My knee is killing me," he admitted, rubbing it with his hand. Christine grinned at his teasing. "Well, it isn't my fault!"

"No, I suppose it isn't," Erik said, as Christine led him to where the food was.

It was then that they discovered Meg's little present…

This chapter is dedicated to my friend Grant: Thanks for understanding and for being all crazy and stuff.