Disclaimer: Standard stuff. Leroux, Kay, Webber and Schumacher own all.

A/N: I am just SHOCKED by the amazing response I got for the previous chapter. After all that incredible feedback that I got, I'm rather hesitant to post this chapter because for some reason I just don't feel happy with it. The other chapter I worried that I overdid everything until it turned into a soap opera (although I didn't hear many complaints…), but with this chapter…

I think that I'm just terrible at plot. So bear with me while I ATTEMPT to force everything to make sense. And if it doesn't at the end, well, then just enjoy the EC stuff.

Update Notice: I got hit in the face with a tennis ball this morning, so I decided that it was a sign that I should get off my rear and finish this chapter. Seriously, the right side of my face rivals Butler!Erik's at the moment. All they should've done was hit Gerry with tennis balls repeatedly before filming. It would've saved them hours of makeup anyway…

I'm sorry I took so long with this chapter, but the next chapter may not come that much sooner. I have my SATs next Saturday, so I'm REALLY quite stressed at the moment with the work piling up in school as well…HOPEFULLY I'll update within a week, but at most it'll only be two weeks. Promise!

I love my caps lock key.

Good luck trudging through this one!

Chapter 7

I have said that Lady Barlow was always considered a bit unconventional; this quality was prevalent throughout the architecture of her house. Among many of the twists and turns of her mansion, one might often encounter a Renaissance façade or a Roman theme in the next room. One could spend hours simply wandering about the vast house, indulging in all the various styles. Lady Barlow's crowning achievement, however, was to be found upon the roof of her home. Here, she had spent an entire summer refining an elegant rock garden that required a great amount of upkeep throughout the changing seasons.

Now that it was winter, the garden was usually deserted, although servants kept the walks shoveled for their mistress. I had only taken several walks here before since I harbored an extreme fear of heights, however now I was glad for its existence. It was to here that I now ran, my steps racing ever faster and as far away as possible from that room in the base of the house. I needed to be somewhere right now where no one could find me, for I knew I was on the verge of breaking completely.

I passed several servants on my way and received many strange looks from them. I knew I was certainly a sight, for I carried my voluminous skirts up above my knees as I ran far too quickly in my heeled shoes. At any moment I expected myself to trip as I climbed stone stairwells, up to that desolate garden.

Erik's cry rang in my ears as I ran, but I could not and would not acknowledge it.

Finally I burst out upon the terrace, the frigid night air blasting me full in the face. It was not unlike that night that Raoul and I had first sung our duet of love, with the snowflakes falling gently about us as we danced with the sculpted cherubs as our witnesses.

No, I won't think of it. In that memory I no longer saw Raoul's joyful face, but the shadow of my phantom as he listened behind an unforgiving statue. I had not seen him there that night, but I always knew he had been there. How else could he have thrown my words back at me the night of Don Juan?

Here the snow fell lightly upon my bare shoulders, but there were no frightening statuettes to hide behind. Instead, elegant paths were sculpted by rocks sprinkled lightly in snow and fringed with tiny plants arranged in a pattern. The walks were freshly-shoveled, although I stumbled in my path, vision obscured by the darkness. At last I fell and crouched beside a stone pillar, winded from my frantic flight to the rooftop. For a moment I fought to catch my breath, grateful that I was finally alone.

The door behind me burst open.

"Christine!"

Oh God, he had followed me. I scooted against my pillar and shut my eyes, wishing I could just melt into the shadows. Why couldn't he just leave me alone? Why did he want to hurt me even more?

Erik easily traced my footsteps in the snow, his eyesight a great deal keener in the dark than my own. I barely heard him approach, but when he next spoke, the voice was right at my ear. "Christine?" Erik knelt in the snow beside me, reaching out to touch my cheek.

I hardly acknowledged the touch, refusing to look at him. Instead I twitched my face away from his gloved hand, wrapping my arms about my knees. "Why can't you leave me be?" I whispered, beginning to shudder as I belatedly realized that it was disagreeably cold upon the rooftop. Flakes dusted my bare skin as the snow continued to fall.

"Christine, won't you come inside?" Erik suggested quietly.

I coughed several times, "No! Let me alone!"

Undeterred, he grasped my shoulders. Erik peered into my face fixedly, eyes untamed and frantic, "Oh, Christine! My poor, foolish Christine!"

I clawed at his hands, trying to fight my way out of his hold. "Let me go!" I yelled, pushing him away.

Erik shook me, forcing me to look at him. "Do you hate me, Christine? Do you wish to see me dead with my abhorrent skull smashed against a stone?"

I opened and closed my mouth several times, beginning to cry yet again. I had thought I possessed no more tears to shed, but it appeared I had been wrong yet again.

The dim moonlight glanced dully off the white porcelain of his mask, white orbs reflected in both of his eyes. It gave him the increased appearance of a madman with only the ashen light of blind lunacy in his gaze. "Tell me, Christine! You do not have to forgive me, only let me know! Even if it is hate, at least you feel something!"

"You're insane," I gasped, taking his wrists.

Erik laughed cruelly, his eyes glinting. "I know, Christine. I've had to live with this madness for so long and I'm tired. I'm so tired of it all." He finally let go, allowing me to rest against the ground. There were twin red marks upon my shoulders, the tint a mockery of the shade of my gown.

I huddled in the cold and put my face in my lap. I shivered until I felt a light weight drop on to my shoulders: the silken fabric of his dinner jacket. My desire for warmth momentarily conquered my pride and I clutched the garment close to my body. When I chanced another look at Erik, I saw that he now sat dejectedly on the stone rim of the frozen fountain, face thrust into his hands.

"Why did you do it?" I asked quietly, tracing a design in the snow with a numb finger.

He did not move as he replied; "Why did you betray me?"

"What?"

"You see, my dear, it is all a matter of perspective, is it not?" Erik slowly raised his face until his eyes met mine, unblinking.

"I don't understand," I whispered, crowding as much of myself and my capacious sleeves into the jacket as possible.

"Neither do I, really," he commented thoughtfully. "Why do you suppose people hurt each other, Christine?"

I looked at him furiously, my vision still thick with tears. "You still haven't answered me! How could you sing those words to me before all those people? How could you even dare to?"

He stared at me, his expression absently contemplative. Then he looked away, tangling a hand in his hair as he spoke; "I did not know what else to do! It was the last thing – the worst thing I could think of! God knows, I tried everything else."

"Why do people hurt each other?" I mocked, tilting my head. "Perhaps because they take a perverse pleasure in seeing others suffer?"

Erik's eyes hardened; "You should know better than to speak to me of suffering."

I crossed my arms and shook my head, "You still take me for no more than a naïve chorus girl. I won't be spoken to like that anymore! Once, I submitted to your moods and your tempers because I feared you! Sometimes I even felt pity for you!" I stood up, brushing snow from the folds of my soaked gown. "But now I won't allow it! I am not a silly little ballet rat anymore!"

To my surprise, Erik laughed, still cradling his unmasked cheek in one long-fingered hand. "How charming! Little Christine has developed character at last!"

I shuddered at the ridicule, but pressed on. "You speak to me of your endless suffering, yet you see nothing wrong in inflicting pain upon others! Why do you mock me now after you have done everything else within your power to wound me?" I pushed the heels of my hands into my eyes, willing to stop the flow of tears. I could feel the kohl beginning to run down my cheeks and knew that I was indeed an abysmal picture.

Erik remained silent and dropped into thought once more. The mirth that had come to his features disappeared just as quickly as it had come, leaving his face a blank. He stared determinedly at the snow, swinging one leg against the base stonework of the fountain as he seemingly ignored me.

Still, I would not be quieted so. Instead, I stopped my pacing and knelt in the snow before him so that he was forced to look at me, although his expression was still unreadable.

"Why do you hate me so much?" I asked him quietly, resting my hands upon my lap. My gown was most likely ruined by now from the exposure to the snow, but I did not care anymore. "I…I never meant to…" I frowned, for I did not know exactly what I wished to say. I would have muttered on if Erik had not gently placed a hand upon my cheek, bidding me to look up at him.

"You know, I tried so hard to hate you, Christine." He traced the outline of my cheekbone with his thumb, studying my face intently, "Still, I could never find it in me to despise you. Even when you left with that boy, I still loved you. Even when you address me as no more than a thing and show me that all you see is a loathsome creature…all I can think about is how much I still cherish you… Forgive me."

I pushed his hand away from my cheek, shaking my head.

Erik sighed and stood, walking around my shaking frame. He circled around me slowly, his shadow dropping across my body as he walked through the snow. I continued to tremble, my hand lingering upon the place where he had touched my skin.

"Go back," his voice drifted back to me, suddenly formal again. "Go home, Comtesse."

I rose to my feet swiftly, turning to face him again. "Why do you insist on playing these games! Why do you dismiss me without a word of explanation? I think you owe me at least that!"

Erik turned back to me sharply, his figure oddly angular in a loose-fitting shirt. The rigid outline of his body could be dimly seen through the fabric permeated by the moon. Then he grabbed me once again, this time clutching my arms urgently. "Ungrateful child! You have to go back to where you are safe!"

I grew limp in his hold, allowing him to shake me again.

"Everything I have done… I did it all for you, Christine! But it is better that you not know – yes, it is safer that way. Go back, go back, go back!" With each word he shook me more and more until I stumbled once again. He held me, continuing to rave with his muddled speech.

I looked at him helplessly, "What are you talking about? I don't understand!"

"No! Of course you don't!" Erik slumped suddenly, although he retained his hold on me. "I would rather you hate me, if only you do not come to harm!"

"What?" I wrapped my chilled fingers about his large wrists, feeling the tension in his very bones. "Speak plainly!"

"I cannot," he shook his head, looking down at the snow. "I have already done too much, and if she finds us here, then we are already lost."

I could fathom none of his cryptic remarks! I only wished to understand what was going on: what mad impulse had seized this man now? His words were no better than gibberish to me!

A sickly creak ensued from behind as the door to the roof opened once again. Erik hissed a warning and thrust me behind himself, but not before I saw the shapely body of a woman clad in a light fur slip out into the garden. It only took me a moment to recognize the face of the lady so comfortably nestled within the folds of her coat.

Karine Renois stood regarding us impassively, her hands folded into her sleeves for warmth. A slight wind picked up, whipping wisps of her dark hair about her face, but still she did not move. I stepped around Erik once again, feeling thoroughly confused by this point. When I turned to look at him questioningly, I was disturbed to see a fleeting look of fear pass across his face.

"Well," Renois remarked, brushing back her hair with a gloved hand. "It seems you have broken our agreement, Erik." She flicked a cursory glance in my direction, but said nothing to me.

"I did nothing of the kind," Erik spat, the fear gone now to be replaced with what could plainly be described as loathing. "I told her nothing."

"Your actions speak for themselves." Renois' lips lazed into a deadly smile, "You are weak; soon you would have told her everything. Your last attempt to save her would have been the words that condemned her." She glanced away and heaved a sigh, stretching her neck gracefully, "I suppose I am tired of our game as well."

I stared. Who was this woman who seemed to have Erik wrapped completely around her finger? Never would he have listened to such words from anyone in the past! If I knew him at all, he should have noosed Karine Renois by now, all merciful thoughts forgotten in the heat of his fury.

I saw Erik close his eyes and inhale deeply before he spoke again. His voice was deadly, but calm and controlled; "Let her go, Renois. Just let her go and I swear to you I will give you whatever else you want."

Now I openly gaped, "What are you saying?" I exclaimed, stepping between them so that Erik faced me. "Let me go? To where? Give her what?"

Karine laughed prettily behind me and I turned to see her lift a hand to her lips with a thoughtful look for me. "You really told her nothing? Well, I suppose it is all too late now anyway. Now that I have you both here…"

Erik's tone was still steely, bordering on the edge of control. "She has nothing to do with any of this. It would be pointless to harm her; you would gain nothing."

The woman drew her eyebrows together quickly and furiously, crossing her arms tightly. "She has everything to do with this! It was for her that you killed him! It was all for this thoughtless girl who even now does not realize how selfish she has been!" Renois turned her full attention on me now, "I see nothing but a spoiled princess in you, Comtesse. In a way, the entire fault lies with you."

I opened my mouth to retort a reply, searching for proper words.

Erik placed a hand on my arm, dragging me backward and away from Renois. "Stay out of this," he told me harshly.

"Enough," I declared finally, looking between them. "Erik, let go and allow me to finally hear what I am being accused of!"

Karine Renois' face was set in a hard anger, although her words did not reveal an impassioned tone. "You truly wish to know, Comtesse? The reason for my hatred is really very simple." She included Erik in a dainty gesture with her hand, "You see, he took everything I ever loved from me just for you."

I glanced quickly at Erik, but the woman moved to where I stood with a livid utterance, "Look at me when I speak!"

I obeyed almost unthinkingly, startled by her sudden proximity. Truly, the woman moved nearly as subtly as Erik did. When I turned my confused gaze back in her direction, I was rewarded with the sting of a sudden slap from her bare hand. I hissed in my breath and shielded the cheek, which but a minute ago had been lovingly touched by another.

The moment Renois struck me, Erik moved smoothly forward and snatched her delicate wrist in a furious grip. I saw her knuckles turn white as all blood was prevented from flowing out to her fingertips. She was forced to her knees from the pain, but still she continued to smirk as if daring him, her luscious lips once again curved in that unfathomable smile.

"What will you do?" She inquired quietly, sprawled upon the ground. "You cannot kill me as you did my brother. Not unless you wish her to live."

Erik muttered a curse, but did not release her. I stayed back at a distance, massaging the cheek that still stung from where she had hit me. Despite the pain and my alarm, I allowed my curiosity to govern my actions.

"Who…who was your brother?" I asked softly.

She did not look at me, for her entire focus was on Erik. Her breath was halting when she spoke as she gritted her teeth from the pain. "Buquet was his name, Comtesse. Joseph Buquet."

At her words, Erik pushed the woman roughly against a statue. Karine Renois cried out, but he did not lessen his grip. I began to see the telltale signs of madness slowly overtake him once again, for he lightly wrapped his other hand about her delicate throat.

I stared quickly at Erik, but all I could see in his features was the insanity. Although she was held mercilessly by the throat, Karine Renois began to look pleased, "The first piece falls into place, does it not? You see, there is little that I do not know about your previous existence, Christine Daaé."

"Daaé? How…how could you know?" At the mention of my given name, I felt a deadly hand wrap its iced fingers about my heart.

"There is much I have learned," she choked out the words, bound in the rough grip. "I know everything about the Opera Ghost and his connection to you." She looked pointedly at Erik now, fairly gloating in her words.

His brows drawn together, Erik visibly tightened his hold on her. "I have listened to enough," he growled, treating her as no more than a lifeless rag doll.

At last I regained my senses and darted forward, clutching at his elbow to pry his hands away from the woman's throat. "For the love of God, Erik, let her speak! She has done nothing to hurt anyone!" My anger at the woman was momentarily forgotten; the images of her possessing Erik fled from my mind in the frightening reality of the present moment.

"Yes, Erik, I am innocent, am I not? Still, you have never had any qualms about murdering in cold blood before, have you?" Karine Renois' tone blatantly mocked my words.

Erik allowed a sneer to grace his lips. "Yes," he smiled horribly, "To kill you would bring immeasurable pleasure to my weary senses. It has been long since I last tasted the sweet scent of fresh blood in the air." Nevertheless, there was something defeated in his tone, and he released her and allowed the woman to slump back on the ground and regain her breath.

Although he had freed her for the moment, Erik continued to hover over the woman as if to prevent her from fleeing the rooftop. Karine Renois seemed suddenly so very tired and broken; a warped and deranged creature in the white snow. Her eyes became sad and her next words were whispered; "You wish to hear what I have to say, Comtesse?"

"Yes," I told her evenly, refusing to even look at Erik. Why had he attacked the woman so when there was no reason for it? I remembered how they had behaved earlier this evening. There could have been no mistake as to what I witnessed! Was this how Erik would have treated me had we ever become lovers? Now I fairly trembled with repulsion at the thought, more willing to sympathize with this woman who had left me completely baffled.

Renois glanced down at the snow, speaking to the ground; "Joseph Buquet was born Joseph Renois, my older brother. We grew up together, only two years apart and extremely close. We had four elder siblings and our parents never had enough time to devote to any one of us singly. Joseph and I found comfort in the company of each other, playing together for years until we began to grow up."

She paused, stretching her neck further to ease the hurt that had been caused. "We were not good children," Renois nearly smiled genuinely at some distant memory. "Joseph taught me how to pick pockets and survive out on the street among other things. We began to fall in with a certain crowd of miscreants, children well below the class that the two of us had been born into. But for us, you understand, these urchins held all the wonder in the world. They gave us opportunities to escape the endless succession of French and piano lessons that were our parents' only gift to us."

I frowned, rocking back and forth on my heels. I was almost unaware of the cold now, my curiosity completely overtaking any previous thought I had harbored for comfort. Sheltered by Erik's jacket, I was now warm enough, although I still felt my newfound hatred for its owner. I did not yet quite know whether or not I believed Renois' story, but her words still held a certain edge of truth in their sound and I knew that it would be best to continue to listen.

Renois, who had stopped for breath, now continued. "When I was ten, my mother finally took me in hand and began to properly teach me how to be a lady in society. At the same time, father attempted to rein in Joseph, but by then it was already too late. The crimes that he and his band committed had increased in daring and shamelessness, until one particular instance came back to Father. He heard that a group of scamps had attacked and stolen precious jewels from an elderly lady of high society who was at the time mourning her recently-deceased husband." Karine sneezed several times, "My, it is cold out here."

"Get on with it," Erik snapped, poised behind her as if he were her executioner waiting to take her to the block.

I did not even spare a glance for him and waited patiently for her to continue at her own pace.

Renois sneered, but nevertheless continued with her narrative. "This was the final straw, and on account of the shame of it all, Father promptly disowned Joseph." She sighed, "Joseph eventually ended up at the Opera Populaire, and despite his disgrace, we met frequently. He used to tell me the most interesting stories of a 'ghost' who haunted the Populaire." Renois keenly glanced up at Erik, "I must say, he exaggerated on some aspects of your appearance."

Erik's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

She went on, "At the time I only took his words for fairy tales that he made up to tease the ballet girls with. It was only after his…accidental death that I began to truly wonder. There had been so many odd occurrences at the Populaire that everything in his stories added up! Eventually I realized that I was not merely searching for a reason to justify his death. " Renois finally began to rise, teetering slightly on weakened feet, "Joseph always kept in contact with his friends from the old ring, and needless to say it was a simple to wheedle information out of them. They saw things like the midnight trips to the graveyard; the comings and goings of a strange Persian man on the Rue Scribe.

"From Joseph's words it was easy to explain the mysterious occurrence of the soprano's flight!" The woman tossed her dark hair, forcing it away from her eyes so that she could look at Erik once again. "Joseph always knew more about you than he let on, although he hid it because he wished to keep his life. It is little matter now, for you killed him in the end anyway."

Throughout her long narrative, I had kept silent. I knew her story was not over yet, but it was intriguing to watch as her neutral features morphed from sadness and into the very base lines of a hate so powerful that I had never before seen it in any living creature.

Renois now spoke to Erik as if she had all but forgotten about my presence. She squeezed her eyes shut and raised her voice slightly, for it had begun to shake anew. "Joseph was the only thing I ever loved about my monotonous existence! It was bad enough that Father pushed him away; but it was worse that you took him away forever. From the moment I learned of you, I swore I would seek revenge for his death. Whoever this mysterious O. G. was, I promised that I would ruin him."

Neither Erik nor I had moved while she spoke. We both stood every bit as insensible as the statues in the rock garden; the only animated figure in the entire scene was Karine Renois, who shifted between the two of us as a player upon a stage. I looked to Erik for his reaction to her story, knowing that he had heard it all before. As always, his face was more blank than the lifeless porcelain that adorned it.

"For a time I was at a loss after you two disappeared from the performance of Don Juan," Renois now addressed me. "I waited impatiently for any sign of him in Parisian society, fearing that he might already be dead before I had a chance to exact my own revenge."

"The mob destroyed everything," I put in. "That is what Raoul told me." Then I looked at Erik, "But you escaped."

"Yes, he escaped and was fool enough to resurface barely a year later," Renois interrupted, glaring at me. "Although I felt I had waited an entire lifetime, I knew who he was the moment his first new opera was staged. Each composer has a distinctive style, and he was no different." She regarded Erik again, "You put too much of yourself into your music, Monsieur. You betrayed yourself."

I shook my head, my mind reeling with all this new information. So much still did not make sense to me! "How is it that you -."

"That I found the reclusive D'Artois?" Renois smiled cryptically, "Many of Joseph's less than honorable friends were part of Paris' considerable underground. Even the most private information has a way of flitting about through their networks, and the moment anyone makes themselves known in high society all ears turn in that direction. He made another mistake the minute that he made the acquaintance of Lady Barlow from England. She is well-known, even in Parisian society. I knew of Madame Penous and her great friendship with Lady Barlow, and that is the only reason why I joined the arts circle."

"Just so you could travel to England?" I asked thoughtfully, reiterating the obvious.

"It was my best chance of finding him."

"You wanted to kill him," I murmured softly, although I met her eyes squarely.

"Of course."

We now both spoke as if Erik were not there. In truth, he had melted as a shadow into the background, ever watchful but as if he had been defeated by something. He hovered there, just on the edge of my awareness, for my attention had been captured entirely by Karine Renois' story. As she spoke, I could not decide what I felt for her. On one hand, I felt pity for her plight…but on the other, something in her manner unnerved me decidedly. It almost seemed as if she had been unhinged in some manner; as if she were closer to the breaking point than I myself had ever been.

The woman laughed prettily again, searching Erik out again. "But I soon found other, better ways to achieve my ends. And oh, how I wanted to hurt you," she began to walk back to Erik, who did not lift a finger even as she meandered toward him. "I wanted you to ache with every single pang of loss that I had felt, and I realized that death would not be enough for you."

Erik allowed her to flick a fingertip against his lips teasingly. She smirked as she did it, sighing with a satisfaction that seemed almost perverse in nature.

"How strange and mercurial a creature you are," she mused. "At my throat but a minute ago, your judgment clouded by your rage! It amuses me."

"What did you do?" I asked the question so calmly that I surprised myself. I had pinpointed that what so bothered me in the woman was her very predatory nature that I had glimpsed earlier that day in the hallway. It reasserted itself now, and it unnerved me once again that Erik did nothing to stop her from touching and addressing him in such a manner.

Renois allowed her hand to fall back to her side. "The usual," she leered. "Extortion…blackmail…I realized I could benefit from all this much more if I kept him alive. And how rich I have become, draining him of his wealth among other things!" She put her arm back about Erik's neck, "You do everything that I want, don't you? How you must long to kill me, knowing that you cannot!" She gave him a coy glance beneath lowered lashes, "Although I must admit that you came fairly close just now…"

I saw the rigid quality to Erik's bland manner, but was also disturbed by the fact that he continued to listen to the words of this woman as she clung to him.

"What are you saying?" I felt nervous now and looked to Erik for help; for explanation. Erik's unpredictability had always been something that I accepted as normal in my world; how unsettling it was to see him demure and submissive. My entire concept of normality had been overturned. "Erik, why do you listen to her?" I knew that Erik could make himself disappear from the world as easily as if he had never been there in the first place. It was inconceivable that he had become too attached to his life as D'Artois; despite appearances, it was apparent that he still hated the rest of humanity as much as he always had.

And for that matter, why had he not killed her yet? As hard as it was for me to admit, it would have been simple, and most likely his preferred solution to the problem.

Over the top of Karine Renois' dark head, Erik looked at me as honestly and as urgently as he ever had. The silent plea was in his eyes, as well as the look that told me that we had passed another point of no return yet again. His eyes glistened sadly even as he accepted Renois into his embrace.

"Do you still fail to see, Christine?" He asked me quietly, allowing Renois to hide her face against his chest. She acted as if she were tired after her long speech, leaning into him for a respite from her words. In every movement that she made, I saw how she indulged in something that I still could not find the proper words to describe.

While Renois spoke, I had listened with a sort of rapt attention. The rest of the world had briefly faded away until she brought Erik back into my awareness, and I realized that at some point I had begun to feel ill. Emotionally, I no longer felt hate, anger or sadness; instead, I felt simply sick from it all.

"No…" I breathed in answer to his question.

"It was for you, Christine. It was all because of you that I could not simply leave my life behind once again and start over in a new place."

Renois spoke up languidly, "I threatened the sinister Opera Ghost himself with your life, Comtesse.. At any time I could have easily killed you and blamed your death upon your own lowly origins as a chorus girl in a ruined Opera. Your death would have been easily accepted by society once they knew you for what you truly were – a fraud."

"I am no such thing!" I returned, automatically defending myself.

"Oh?" Renois twisted away from Erik, crossing her arms. "So everyone knows where you found your incredible talent for music, do they?"

My silence was all the reply she needed.

"No one would care if a nobody like you who had wormed her way into respectable society, died." The woman hurriedly added more and more details to her story, each bit like another drop of salt into a wound that had never properly healed. "I took great pleasure in torturing my brother's murderer by constantly threatening to end the life of one whom I knew he loved more than the rest of the world itself. In a way it was perverse that so disturbed a creature cared about you to the point that he would do anything to protect you." Renois unkindly emphasized, "Anything."

I shut my eyes, unwilling to hear and to realize what her words meant. Oh, I understood everything now all too clearly, but it did not hurt any less. It still bothered me that Erik had allowed himself to submit to her will in such a manner! Had it all really been for me…?

"I suppose you wonder why I am not dead yet?" Renois recaptured my attention, that damned smile still playing upon her lips. "I warn you now, Comtesse, if you try anything, know that I am still connected to Joseph's ring of friends who are no less eager to avenge his death. They know much and will act should they learn of my…untimely death. I have paid them well and it will infuriate them to lose their source of income."

"So you plan to kill me?" I asked quietly. "Here? Tonight? Upon this very rooftop?"

Renois rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Honestly, Comtesse. Sometimes I wonder at Erik's taste in women, for you do not have much of a brain. How stupid would I have to be to perform such an act myself? The people of the underground, however, would be more than obliging to perform a small murder for me… Imagine how elated I was when I learned that you, the Comtesse de Chagny, had fallen right into my grasp with your induction into Penous' ridiculous arts circle!"

Truly, the woman had cornered me, and as I stood here on this rooftop I suddenly felt as if I had nowhere to go but off the edge. What would I do now? How could I live a life in which I constantly looked over my shoulder, fearing that cutthroats would be trailing after me with knives and other murderous objects.

I knew I had to leave Paris, but how could I convince Raoul to go with me? Would he even go once I told him? Would he even believe me? What an utter mess my life had become!

Renois yawned luxuriously, at the last moment hiding her gaping mouth with a hand. "Keep your hand at the level of your eyes, Comtesse," she warned scornfully. "Perhaps one night you will find yourself with a knife at your throat if I grow displeased."

Almost automatically, my hand wandered to my throat where it lingered fearfully. Once again I tried to look to Erik for help, but he merely turned his face away from me and whispered, "I tried to send you away, Christine. I tried to send you back; to your home where you might be safe with the Comte." Even though he did not mention Raoul by name, the word Comte no longer held any derision in its inflection.

It was his way of offering an apology, I realized. At this last, hopeless moment all he wanted was for me to realize and not to despise him any longer.

Karine Renois interrupted us once again, her voice high with ridicule. "How charming," she remarked lightly. "You know, Comtesse, he tried to make me believe that he no longer loved you. He almost had me convinced as well – until tonight. Erik, you forget once again that I was there when you two performed Don Juan! How could I fail to recognize the last melody you sang to her before she so cruelly exposed your distasteful face to the audience?"

The old pain was back in his eyes, but I now realized that a new injury had been added to the old. All his life Erik had suffered for himself, but now he suffered for me as well. There was nothing I could do to ease his pain, yet I also could not go back to Raoul now that I had learned the truth of the matter.

"Karine," Erik said to her softly, "You have made your point -."

But the stubborn woman shook her head contemplatively. "You know, I never got a proper look back then."

My eyes widened, for there was no doubt what she was speaking of. It was hard for me to feel pity for the woman who had lost her dear brother; she now behaved no better than a conniving brute who wore the guise of a lovely woman. Erik's crimes were unforgivable…yet her's were equally as inexcusable. In many ways, Renois was worse, for she felt no remorse for what she did. Even when she hurt people, it seemed that she allowed others to do the actual deeds for her.

At Renois' request, Erik had gone utterly still. While I hovered a distance away from them, the two stood gazing at each other, unmoving. The woman's face was innocently inquisitive, while his expression had fallen as cold and dead as a leaf in winter.

"What did you say?" He asked evenly, his voice so soft it was nearly carried away by the force of the winds.

Renois, however, was in full confidence of her powers over him. "In all the times that we lay together, you never once took that accursed mask off," she stated, removing the glove for her hand. She reached for the right side of his face, remarking, "If the Comtesse saw, then surely you will allow me to do the same. After all, I have known more of you than she has or ever will."

This time, his rage was even uglier than before. He stopped Karine Renois' hand before it ever touched his face and threw her to the ground. "You push me too far!" He snarled, advancing toward her with only the look of utmost hatred and rage. "I already do every single thing you ask, but I am not some spectacle to be gawked at!"

Somehow, this clever woman had managed to hit all the wrong notes in this man's character. I watched in near-morbid fascination with the scene unfolding before me, as Erik lost his will to his temper completely. Before, although he had held the woman in the grip of insanity, he had also managed to control his actions. Now, I feared that no voice could curb whatever he had set his mind on doing.

Still, Renois did not realize the danger she was in. Even as she sprawled in the ground once again, that eternal smirk did not depart from her face. "You forget your place," she told him instead.

Erik seized her once again, dragging her up to her feet. She gave an amazed cough, but held her ground nonetheless even as he fairly dragged through the snow. "No matter what you do, you cannot save your precious Comtesse!" She yelled, beginning to kick as she realized where he was taking her. "I have you caged!"

He stopped right at the edge of the rooftop, holding her now only by the fringes of her rich coat. One thing that Lady Barlow had not taken into account while constructing the rooftop garden was the scant protection against falling off the edge. The elegant carvings etched around the sides of the roof were scarcely taller than my ankles, just large enough so that one could easily trip over them and stumble into death.

Even now, Renois continued to smile. "I ask a simple request of you, and you desire to throw me off the roof?"

"You deserve far worse for even trying to harm Christine, but right now it is all I can do." He held her further over the side, until she leaned dangerously over the emptiness.

I ran after them, taken aback at how high up we now were. Light from the rooms on the lowest level spilled out onto the stone yard before the house, illuminating the vast distance that one would travel in a fall. From that one look, I began to tremble coldly.

Once again, I decided to attempt to stop him with my voice. "Erik! Don't! Not for me!"

In his hatred he paid little heed to me, focused instead entirely upon the woman he now held between life and death.

Despite everything, she continued to smile dangerously. "Yes, do listen to her, Erik. Your foolish Christine seems to have more sense than I initially credited her with."

"You promised," I reminded him deliberately, ignoring the woman. "You promised you would never kill again."

"Those useless words were given to the daroga, not you," Erik snarled, not bothering to even look at me. "I regret that I ever spoke them now."

"What does it matter who you gave them to? Erik, don't!"

With a frustrated growl, he once again flung the woman away from himself and onto the safety of the snow beside him. He straightened and turned away from both of us, stoically looking out over the edge and toward the moonlit grounds of the estate.

Renois lay on the ground for a moment, retaining the look of one who was not unsettled in the least by his behavior. It was as if she were not afraid to die.

"Really, Erik," she commented, clambering to her feet again. "You must stop treating me in such a manner. I have almost had enough of your horrid temper."

When he did not bother to even offer her a reply, she raised her voice once again; "All I asked for was to see your face!"

"You, Madame, do not have me caged, nor will you ever," Erik spoke over his shoulder, his tone so constricted that it barely hid the torrent of frightful emotions that burned beneath. "In fact, you have no idea what it is like to even live in a cage for spectators of all kind to gape and jeer at you for their amusement. My gypsy friends made a great profit off of me, yes," he continued, lowering his voice even further. "People traveled for miles and paid well just to see me, the Devil's Child."

Renois impatiently stamped her foot, "If you will not oblige me, then at least let us get out of this cold. I tire of these sermons -."

"Here!" Erik turned around finally, taking her chin up in his hand so that she had no choice but to look at him. "Get a good look, Karine! Indulge your sick heart to its utter delight!" With one swift motion, he tore the white mask from his face, allowing it to lodge in the snow at his feet.

I must admit, I flinched as soon as I saw him expose that hated half of his face. The scarring so twisted and marred his face that it resembled the skull of a rotting corpse. It now lay bare for the entire moon to see and to cast her light upon it; in the illumination, the deformity was emphasized until it seemed to overshadow the part of his face that was not affected. The hair on that half of his face had all but receded, further giving him the look of a man who had lain dead for months with only the maggots for company in his open grave.

Still, I did not turn. I had flinched not from revulsion, but from the wild fury that I saw turn to pain in Erik's mismatched eyes as he realized yet again what he had done. Karine Renois' face had gone ashen and her unforgiving tongue fell slack. She began to shake uncontrollably, squeezing her eyes shut and turning her face away.

"Have you satisfied your curiosity?" Erik demanded, placing both his hands upon her cheeks. "Have you?" He held her so tightly that she was forced to open her eyes and look at him, his alarming face mere inches from her own perfect visage.

She could not even nod mutely.

Erik finally allowed her to stagger away, watching as the woman was unable to take her eyes off of the horror that she saw presented before her. "I…monster…believe…I…I…" she continued to mumble, trembling from more than just the cold.

At this moment, the door to the roof opened once again to admit two new figures.

The first was the Persian, Nadir. His gait was frantic and his alarm considerable. Behind him, I saw the round figure of Lady Barlow heaving itself impressively towards us through the snow. Then, both of them stopped in shock as they took into account the scene presented before them.

For Erik and Karine Renois, it was as if the rest of us did not exist. When he at last hid his face with his hand, Renois was released from the spell of the terror. She now felt free to turn around and run; to escape from this roof of nighttime frights and back down to the civilized world below where men looked human and corpses stayed beneath the ground where they belonged.

When I at last noticed her path, I gave a cry of dismay and started forward toward her. In her fear, Karine Renois had not bothered to look where she was going and now she unwittingly stumbled straight toward the edge.

"Stop!" I screamed, even as she turned in my direction.

At the moment I cried, Erik reached for her, his eyes widening in sudden fear. Doubly frightened now, Karine Renois screamed to the heavens, "No! Stay away!" She turned to run and met only the harsh unreality of nothingness beneath her slippered feet.

Just as she went over the edge, Erik let loose an undecipherable cry, "Luciana!" He skidded to a halt by the side of the roof, but it was already too late.

She did not even scream as she fell.

For a time we remained motionless, allowing the snow to fall about us lightly. Erik knelt at the edge, his eyes fixed on what lay below. I stood some distance away, my mouth frozen open with disbelief at what had just happened.

At last I ventured toward his motionless shape. I advanced to the edge slowly, fearing what I might see upon the cobblestones below. I half-expected Erik to force me away, but he seemed unable to tear himself from the horrific image.

It was Nadir who attempted to stop me, reaching for my shoulders; "Comtesse! Stay back!"

All I did was turn a glare on Nadir and push him firmly away. He relented easily, although he remained clearly nervous. Lady Barlow reached his side and looked between Erik and I, her mouth opening and closing several times as she attempted so say something.

I turned my back on both of them, peering over the side and only allowing myself a quick glance at what lay beneath us. I was more concerned for the man who quietly knelt beside the edge, no longer hiding his face in his misery.

I saw that he was shaking and fell to my knees beside him. Hesitantly, I reached out to touch his cheek, for it was the unmarred half that faced me now. When he felt my fingers against his skin, he was startled out of his stupor, and he threw my hand away with a warning glance.

"Get back, Christine!" He ordered in an unsteady voice. "Get back before I send you to your death as well!"

I shook my head and moved closer to him on the ground. "You are not to blame," I told him firmly. "She fell because - ."

"No, Christine. I am entirely at fault. First Luciana and now Karine; both met early deaths on account of the sight of me." Although I looked upon the half that was normally unmasked, he still turned and hid his entire face from me. "And now I have ruined your life, Christine. Do you not realize? How can you ever forgive me! How can…how can…oh, just like Luciana! Why!"

I did not have the slightest idea as to who Luciana was, but for the moment it did not matter. I did not care that Karine Renois' death had ensured my own. All I felt was that sudden rush of torrential sorrow, as I reached for him once again.

Gently but firmly, I placed both my arms around Erik's neck until I forced him to look at me. I left no room for argument as I once again ran my fingers over every contour of his face, scarred and unscarred, and touched my forehead to his. "Don't think of it now," I whispered urgently. "Turn your mind to other things; enter a pleasant dream that belongs only to us."

I spoke nonsense, but I felt our tears beginning to mingle. Erik accepted my embrace this time, tangling his hands in my hair as if grabbing for any comfort that he could find.

I allowed him to do so and continued babbling, wanting only to leave this place and enter a place of safety. "Do not look upon it," I cautioned him. "Just look at me, look at me, Erik."

He sighed and pulled me fully into his arms, while I allowed him to rest his face against my shoulder. We both held each other there on the lonely rooftop, and slowly our senses began to remind us of other unimportant things like the frigid night air and the pair of horrified faces that regarded us.

When the import of what had happened finally hit us, I allowed myself one final look at the remains of the woman who had plummeted to her death. What I saw sickened me, and abruptly I felt the bile rise in my throat. I began to cough violently, eliciting a look of fright from Erik who held me as I fell into the fit.

I turned my frightened eyes on him, whispering, "Please, take me inside. Please, Erik! Please!"

I tried to support my weight upon my own feet, but I only fell the moment I tried to walk. Erik easily caught and held me before I could reach the ground again. The last thing I could remember was looking up at his grotesque face and thinking how much I loved it, as I did every part of him.

And after that, I finally allowed myself to faint clear away for the first time in years.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next time that I opened my eyes, I was back in the safety and comfort of my bed. For a brief moment, I felt very safe and cozy beneath my heavy down coverlet, although I dimly sensed that there was something at the back of my mind I was forgetting.

Abruptly, I remembered Erik's face; a woman falling; screaming.

I sat up quickly, a hand pressed to my forehead to blot out the headache that threatened to conquer me. With a start, I realized I was now wearing a warm woolen nightgown instead of the impractical burgundy dress. I fingered the material, wondering if a nurse had been in to attend to me. I felt mortified at the thought, for I had displayed myself as no more than a weakling.

I opened and closed my eyes several times, blinking the sleep away. When my vision at last focused, I saw that a hearty fire burned at the foot of my bed, warming and illuminating the room. A man was slumped in a generous armchair set close to the fireplace, a book loosely spread across his lap. I blushed heavily when I saw that I was Erik, and tugged self-consciously at my nightgown.

Had he…? I shook my head, more embarrassed than ever and decided that he hadn't been the one to attend to me. With another humiliated blush, I realized that I almost felt disappointed at the thought that it hadn't been him.

Now was not the time to be thinking such thoughts either. I silently reprimanded myself and quietly swung my legs over the side of the bed. I brought my feet into toasty slippers and hesitantly tried a few steps on my feet. I was shaky at first, but it seemed that rest had done me some good. I wondered what time it was, but all that I could see through the cracks between the curtains was the black nighttime sky.

I treaded lightly toward the fireplace, lured by the warmth that it greeted me with. Smiling, I saw that Erik had fallen asleep while he kept his vigil, his head lolling against his shoulder. He had replaced the mask upon his face, but it was not difficult to miss the signs of exhaustion beneath his eyes. I almost reached out a hand to touch him, but fearing that I might wake him, I instead knelt before the fire and stretched out my hands to warm them.

Presently I set my slippers out to toast beside the flames and turned back to him. He still hadn't moved, although his book threatened to slip from his lap. I carefully extracted it from his loose grip, taking note of the cover and realizing that it was Greek. I shook my head, unsurprised. Erik had once tried to teach me, but I had proven miserable at the language, and so after a time we had given up.

I sat back on my heels, considering him. Then I lay the book aside and sidled closer to him, deciding to quietly rest my head on his knees. He shifted slightly as I did this, but did not wake up immediately. I sighed contentedly, warmed doubly by the heat of the fire and his presence so close to mine. I closed my eyes once again, but it was not long before I felt a tentative hand begin to tease my curls lightly.

"Christine," he whispered my name, continuing to play gently with my hair.

I turned from my position, smiling softly up at him. His eyes were still half-lidded from sleep, although there was a warmth in his gaze that was enhanced by the illumination that the flames cast. "Good morning," I whispered, covering my own yawn and made sleepy by the heat of the fire. "Or is it night?"

"You slept all day," he told me. "It can't be more than a few hours past sunset now."

I marveled at my own ability to sleep the hours away. "I'm sorry for waking you," I apologized quietly, knowing that he had not slept long.

"Don't trouble yourself about it," he replied, his hand stilling on top of my head. "You are a most pleasant thing to wake up to."

I blushed anew and hid my face from him. Erik laughed softly in response and pushed me away so that he could join me on the floor beside the fire. I mumbled a few words of surprise when he pulled me into his lap and rested against the foot of the armchair so that we both faced the fire. At the same time, I did not argue with him either and allowed myself to loosen contentedly in his hold. It was a thousand times better than the comfort of my down coverlet.

For a time, the two of us simply stared into the fire and said nothing. But I finally forced myself to ask the inevitable question, "What happens to us now?"

Erik exhaled haltingly, his breath tickling my ear. "You must leave Paris, Christine. Convince the Comte to move to his orchards in Italy; you may be safer there."

I frowned, "What if I am not?"

"I can think of nothing else," he admitted.

I took his hand that was resting on my middle and brought it up to my cheek, reveling in the closeness of him. "What if I left with you?" I asked him unflinchingly.

He chose not to answer my question. Instead, he told me, "Things would have been so much simpler if only you had listened to me, Christine. If only you had left when I told you to!"

"You tried to drive me away," I remarked sadly. "With all the cruelty and unkind words, you tried to convince me that you no longer cared."

"Yes."

I frowned, continuing to hold his hand against my cheek. "The song too?"

"One last desperate attempt to make you hate me forever. But you see, in the end I was far too weak to see you hurt like that. In that moment, she realized that I had lied to her, and I ruined us both." I felt him rest his face against the my mass of luxurious curls. "I even sent you a letter that urged you to return home."

I craned my neck to look at him, surprised. "The letter from Raoul?"

"Falsified," he stated flatly. "Madame Giry owed me a favor, and so she asked no questions and sent Meg to you for the purpose of delivering the letter."

"You sent for Meg?" I echoed dimly.

"The daroga came with her and was to escort the two of you home as soon as possible. I assure you, she knows very little – only that your life was in danger, and as a friend, she came unquestioningly."

I paused and then progressed to other recent events. "What happened today while I slept?"

Erik's hold about me tightened while he talked. "The chief inspector came to inquire about the death, but with Lady Barlow and the daroga as witnesses, there can be no question that it was an…accident." Clearly, he did not believe it himself.

"It was not your fault," I told him yet again. Although he was silent, I became thoughtful once more. "Who…who was Luciana?" I asked him quietly.

I felt him stiffen before he held me ever more closely. Because he did not speak, I feared that I had pried too far, and so I amended quickly, "You do not have to tell me."

Erik chose to reply, although his story was curt. "She was a girl I knew in Rome when I was a boy. She…she met her fate in much the same way that Karine did."

I had to ask. "Did you love her?"

"No – I don't know, really. I was far too young to understand anything I felt then," he broke off, his voice flat. He brushed the curls back from my forehead; "But she loved me terribly for no reason that I could see. When she fell, she was younger than you are now. That too was called an accident."

"And Karine?" I asked, because I could not help myself.

Erik's hand stilled, but he answered nonetheless. "There was nothing between us, Christine. If not for the danger to you, I would be glad that she is now dead."

"Can't I come with you?" I asked him suddenly.

"What?"

"I mean," I extracted myself from his grip and knelt so that we were facing each other on the carpet. "Why don't we both leave Paris behind? Together."

He was silent, and from this point on, I lost all capacity for clear thought and found my actions instead governed by the enigmatic lure of his eyes. I could not draw my gaze away from him, and instead began to lean forward until I captured his lips in a cautious kiss.

The warmth of what I felt was indescribable as I felt him accept and draw me further against himself. Impassioned, I forced my tongue into his mouth and discovered that he tasted lightly of brandy. The previous night had certainly taken its toll upon him and I now sought to ease his weariness in any way that I could. I would do anything to see him smile at me once again and to witness a sign of true happiness upon his face. He allowed me to settle fully into his hold once more and to force the fabric of his jacket off his shoulders. In turn, I felt him brush his fingertips against the back of my nightgown, undoing the laces easily until it began to slip.

"I take it you accept?" I asked him in between feverish kisses.

Just as suddenly as the passion had seized us, it withered and fled. Erik drew back and thrust me away at arm's length, a look of fear and complete helplessness conquering him. He stared at me with that disturbing look, eyes darting back and forth between my face and figure.

"What is it?" I asked softly, fighting to ward off panic.

He shook his head fervently several times and released me. Standing up, he stepped away and collected his jacket from the ground where I had disposed of it. "No," he said nearly inaudibly. Then he repeated more loudly, "No, Christine."

"What?" I asked, fighting for a semblance of modesty now. I recovered my shoulders with the gown and left the warm rug to follow him. When I stepped toward him, he backed away, holding up a hand.

"Tomorrow, Nadir and Meg will bring you home," he told me forcefully. "You must do your best to leave Paris before word of Karine Renois' death can reach the proper ears."

I gasped in a mixture of indignation and fear, "You're abandoning me?" I demanded this of him, unable to believe what he was saying.

"No!" He took another step away from me and bent to retrieve his book from where I had left it. "I will do my best to keep you safe, I promise, but I cannot go with you."

I ran toward him, catching his elbow in my frantic hands, "I said that I would go with you!"

He tried to free himself from my grasp, "Christine, you're married!"

"Then I'll get a divorce!" I yelled suddenly, "I'll leave!"

The anxiety in his manner was quickly fled; "Stop it, Christine. You run to me only because it is convenient!"

I took a confused step back, "That's not true."

"It is and you damn well know it! You use people, Christine!" Erik snatched up my hand where Raoul's ring rested, "How can you kiss and desire me when this gaudy monstrosity still glitters upon your finger? You are bound to another and don't you forget it!"

I pulled my hand away and forced the ring off. "Here! Take it!" I thrust the object toward him, but he only regarded me coldly.

"Put it back on, Christine," he ordered me. "No more of your theatrics."

Refusing, I held it out in my palm. "I do not run to you because it is convenient," I informed him curtly. "I run to you because I love you."

"You loved me so much that you ran off with another. Interesting," Erik tilted his head contemptuously. "You only kept me around for as long as you needed to. When you were a child, I returned your father to you. Later, you indulged yourself with your fantasies of the Angel of Music, until you realized one day that you had no need of him anymore. You let go of your father; you ceased to care about your music when you saw all that the Vicomte offered in his enticing world. The lure of fine horses and stylish clothes brought you into a new world after you grew tired of the old one."

"You understand nothing," I spat bitterly.

"And now, when you are no longer amused by your Comte and his horses, you return to me. On the contrary, I think I understand very well, Christine." He adjusted the last of his clothes and turned toward the door, "You believed that you would always have your poor, unfortunate Erik to run to! You thought I would never learn." He sighed deeply, collecting the last of his thoughts. "Mademoiselle Giry will help you pack your things for your trip tomorrow," he said at last. "Good night, Comtesse."

I lunged for the door and put myself between him and the knob. "You leave because you are afraid," I hissed at him. "You abandon me because you fear me."

Erik laughed, "You? I think not. But I fear what you may do to me. I have myself to think of as well, you know." He leaned over me and pried my hands away from the doorknob, "I fear being hurt by you again, Christine. I know that you will only use and injure me once more." He pushed me aside easily, "I almost feel pity for your Comte. Now he should know what it is like to be betrayed by the one he loves most."

I was desperate now, refusing to be brushed to the side. "Then you still love me!" I exclaimed, willing him to stay.

"I know my heart," Erik told me evenly. "But I will never know yours."

Why did he have to complicate matters so? A part of me understood his reasoning; to an outsider, it would have been simple to see how he had drawn his conclusions. But I had to make him believe me! I had to make him understand!

"Please, wait," I begged of him, slumping against the wall.

He opened the door despite my protest; "Think on what I said," he advised. "Go back to the boy and mend your marriage."

"No."

"At last you begin to learn what life really means, Christine."

I choked back the lump that was forming in my throat, "Pain and suffering?"

"And so much more."

When he was gone, the lump remained, but I could not cry anymore. I felt that I might never shed a tear again.

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A/N: Yeeehaaawwww! Okay, so that was random. My, that was a long chapter. Hope you got at least a little enjoyment out of it! Forgive any proofreading errors as well. I'm completely out of it at the moment.

Face Update: Swelling miserably above eye. Headache from hell. Ouch.