(A/N) I would like to let everyone know--and also thank whoever nominated me--for the phanfiction awards. Voting opens in two weeks so...vote for me! I'll give more details later on when I have them.

I'm pretty much assured that I won't win because I'm up against a story with a much greater fan following but if you wouldn't mind voting for me I would really really appreciate it! The nomination totally made my week and I must say that Erik is also quite pleased that I can type fast enough to keep up with his story. Thank you for considering this story worthy of a nomination. I cannot thank you all enough for reading not only this but for having the faith in me to look at Goddess Noir. I swear that this won't become second fiddle. This will continue with regular updates as long as Erik continues to tell his story. Without further ado, my lovely "ghost" writer.

E/N (Erik Notes)Julia began to cry at the end of the last chapter. Women are such difficult creatures to figure out.

Ch 48

Tears spilled down Julia's cheeks as she stared up at me. Her bottom lip quivered; her nose running. She had clearly been on the verge of crying for quite some time for her face to be so puffy and her eyes so terribly red.

More than anything I didn't want her to cry. Anger I could tolerate. Her irritation I could understand, but not her tears. Never this, never, ever this display of sorrow. Weeping reminded me of execution, of women lined up with babes in arms and shot one after the other. If I had known that there was to be women and children executed I never would have suggested that they be shot one at a time; one dying the rest listening. Their husbands I didn't care about one way or another but the rest of the family exterminated bothered me deeply.

Goosebumps rose along my arms as I thought that I had put her up against the wall. In some way I had executed her. The only thing I could think to tell her made her cry harder.

"Please, please don't cry." I had to wipe my own eyes. Every time I blinked I saw her in the line of fire. I had never really regretted my days in the Orient until I realized my affection for Julia. She pleased me. She pleased me because she accepted me and made me want to try harder at….something. Change, I suppose.

I wanted to comfort her but didn't know what to do. Julia sank to the floor and dropped the cloth and the little bottle onto the rug. A high-pitched sob escaped her lips just before she covered her face with both hands. It was the most shrill, most terrible sound I had ever heard.

"Julia, please don't cry."

She was inconsolable. Her body trembled and I had no idea what had brought on her sudden outburst of emotion. I collapsed on my knees beside her and put my hands on her shoulders. She pushed me away and buried her face in the coverlet.

I had upset her and I had no idea what I had done or how to remedy the situation. Slowly I sat back from her and looked around the room. The door was still open and the thought crossed my mind that I should leave her alone. Maybe all this would pass if I just let her gather her composure.

Another sob escaped and I knew I couldn't leave her alone. That would have been cowardly and unforgivable. Already I had tested the boundaries.

"Julia, please tell me what to do."

"You don't understand, do you?" she squeaked.

Nothing I said would have been the right answer. Somehow I knew that. I sat with my back against the bed and closed my eyes. If I had a blueprint of her mind that would have done me better than attempting to guess.

"I haven't any idea. Please don't cry."

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "How many days have you been here now?"

I had lost count. "Six."

"Four. But it honestly feels like six."

From the way she bit off her words I knew that was deserved. I opened my eyes and frowned at her. "If you wanted me to leave you should have said something."

She started to cry again for another unknown reason. Just when I thought we could actually talk she broke down again.

"Julie—" I have no idea why I called her that but it seemed appropriate. Maybe an endearing pet name would cauterize the wound I had unknowingly opened.

"Why don't you ever apologize? Are you that ungrateful? Are you that inconsiderate?" Julia yelled at me. She balled her hand into fists and pounded it on the floor.

My head lowered involuntarily. So that was why she was upset. "May I tell you now or have I lost my opportunity to do so?"

She hiccupped. That seemed like enough of an invitation to continue. I lay down beside her on the floor and rested my head on my arm. As soon as I was facing her, she closed her eyes and sniffled again. Though she didn't move any farther away she did fold her arms over her chest to shut me out. Regret knifed through me. I stared at her swollen face, at the tears my own foolishness had created.

"I've never had to apologize to anyone," I whispered. The urge to just touch Julia, to hold her, to be nearer to her made my fingertips sting with longing. I tightly closed my hand and kept it over my chest. "I don't know what to do."

She turned over and faced away from me. Her gesture left me teetering on the edge of anger and remorse. I was trying, damn it, I was trying to apologize.

"The list is fairly long. Would you be so kind as to narrow down exactly what I'm apologizing for?"

Julia released another sob. Her emotions were beyond my ability to tolerate. I moved toward her and placed my hand around her soft belly. Like a rat I attempted to navigate my way through her labyrinthine mind.

"I would not try to hurt you. Not ever. As much as I would rather not see you cry for my own selfishness if you…" feel you must? No, that would not work. "Julia, my God, please look at me. I would rather have you rip out my stitches than keep your back to me."

Her body continued to jolt with hiccups for a while after that, and though she didn't turn to face me, her hand reached down and touched my wrist. I thought for certain that she would lift my hand from her and moved it away but she didn't. She let me hold onto her.

"You cannot bring yourself to say it, can you?" she whispered.

She was right. More difficult than saying that I loved her was saying that I was sorry I had hurt her feelings. The longer I contemplated the more I realized that they were phrases that went hand in hand. With a deep breath I forced the words into my mind and prepared myself to tell her.

"I'm sorry."

She said nothing for a moment and I almost sighed in relief. No reply at all was better than her rejecting my words.

"For what?" she asked.

Well how the hell would I know if she wouldn't tell me? Why was I the only one putting out effort? I sat upright and turned my back on her in frustration.

"For everything. Does that cover it all? Birth, I'm sorry for surviving birth. I apologize for being a healthy child, for…for making it out of Persia alive…the opera house…"

Julia groaned. "You make it about yourself. Don't you dare try to twist this around you deceptive, ignorant, selfish fool."

"I'm sorry I don't know how to do anything at all!" I shouted at her. I scrambled to my feet and stormed out of the room and slammed the door. I was about to head down the stairs but I didn't want to leave her alone in the bedroom. I spun around and headed back inside finding she had not moved at all. "What in the hell do you want me to tell you? I told you I was sorry and I don't know what else to even say because I don't know what I did. Specifically, I mean, because as I said I know, at least, that the list is longer than St. Peter's list of souls. You have a thousand reasons to hate me. Tell me where to start and I will apologize to you. Just…" Slowly my anger faded and I regretted raising my voice at her. She had buried her head in her arms the moment I started yelling at her. "Just tell me what I need to do for you to speak to me still. Please."

She lifted her head and showed me her tear-streaked face. "My journal."

"I'm sorry I looked." I crossed my arms and turned away. "I didn't even read very much of it before you found me." Without her saying anything I continued. "I apologize for being difficult. But you know how I am."

She sighed in disgust. "Forget it, Erik. Go downstairs and go to bed."

"No. I'm going to apologize to you," I said. I turned back towards her and knelt down on one knee. "What else? Let's have it right now."

It sounded a bit threatening but I didn't realize it until I had finished yelling at her and demanding that I be allowed to apologize.

"This isn't how it works. Just go, Erik. Just leave me alone and I'll see you in the morning."

"No, no I'm not going to leave you crying on the floor." Without thinking about it in my irritation with myself, I grabbed her under the arms and hefted her into bed. She bounced when she landed and stared at me as I sat down beside her. "Don't be angry with me. Tell me what I have to do so that you aren't angry with me."

"I'm not angry I'm upset."

My mouth twitched. "What's the difference?"

She laid her head back and closed her eyes. Her voice had turned gravely from crying. "Do you even realize how many times you've hurt my feelings over the last four days? For God's sake the first night you were here you told me that you hated me when I was trying to help you. Did I say anything to you? No, not at all because you were in so much pain I couldn't bear to put you in more."

"I would never say that to you. Not ever."

"Then who were you talking to?"

"I don't know; to God, to myself, to anyone at all but not to you, Julia."

"You'll be struck down dead for saying something like that," Julia said under her breath. "For one man you say so many hurtful things."

Julia turned her face toward me. She was still crying but not nearly as hard as she had been earlier.

"You being here last night and this morning was like being married again."

"Is that slander or a compliment?" This time I was ready to apologize.

She shifted to her side and curled up like a cat. "You reminded me of the pleasant parts of being married. Falling asleep beside you was…comforting. And it had nothing to do with sex. Then you have to go and do something I should really come to expect from you. How can you be so inconsiderate?"

"I really don't know."

"Well what do you know?"

"I know that when you cry it's the most horrific sound in the world. I never want to hear it ever again."

Julia looked at me strangely but shook her head. She sat up in bed and I did the same, crossing my legs like a tailor. She turned away and dried her eyes. "You're so uncouth. For such an intelligent man you certainly haven't a clue about anything a book cannot teach you."

"No, I suppose I don't."

"Oh, you in the last four days have been more exhausting than four years with both Lisette and Louis to take care of. You're slowly sucking the life out of me, Erik, you're simply draining me."

When she turned to face me I knew that there was something more that was on her mind. Her face was still taut, her eyes still filled with sorrow. I took her hand and squeezed her fingers.

"When you told me about the gendarmes I thought my heart would stop. I don't want anything to happen to you or to Alex."

"Nothing will happen to Alex," I assured her. "He'll be well cared for no matter what."

"And you?"

My face darkened. I tried desperately to hold onto her hand but I couldn't. "I don't yet know. But you needn't worry about me. I'll have Madeline give you part of my funds—"

She started to cry again. "I don't want your money. I've never wanted your money."

"You've been good to me. You deserve something."

"We deserve something after all of these years. I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you."

She threw her arms around my neck and at last I knew why she wept. She shed the tears I still could not force to fall from my eyes, the tears for my own dismal fate.

I almost missed someone knocking on the front door because she was crying so loud. As much as I wanted whoever it was to just go away I knew that I should answer it.

After all, not many people call at a quarter till midnight.

Julia apparently heard it as well. She rolled off the side of the bed and wandered out of the bedroom. She told me to stay put but of course I followed her. In the back of my mind I feared it was the vicomte paying an early visit. With a silver candlestick in hand I stood behind Julia when she opened the door.

Madeline stood wringing her hands. Her bonnet was soaked as was her dress.

"Where is your umbrella?" I asked. The woman was trembling and soaked to the bone.

She pushed past Julia and stood in the foyer, her eyes searching the halls. "Alex returned here."

"What?" Julia and I asked together.

"He had to come here," Madeline murmured. "He's not at home. He must be here."

Without making a reply Julia ran up the stairs and I went down the hall to the guest room. All three of us began shouting his name at once.

I turned up the lamp and immediately knew we would not find him. There was a note on the bed. A note where my son should have been.