Demons of the Past

Ch. 2 Escape

Author's note: Well, I hope that everyone enjoyed the last chapter. I hate it when Christine and Erik fight…but then they get to make up! Lol. Please review! Thanks!

Disclaimer: I love the Phantom of the Opera (although not particularly Raoul) but it doesn't mean I own it. (insert sad face)

P.S. Erik sings a bit from Evanescence "Imaginary", and Christine sings the lyrics to Coldplay's new song "Fix You". If you haven't heard it, it's really good…

And now, on with the story…

Erik was burning with rage as he made his way through the forest. He was walking as fast as he could away from the house. Somehow, his mind told him that if he could get away from his home and wife for a moment, then the problems would fix themselves. There were too many problems, and he couldn't fix them. He couldn't solve his own damn problems! It was infuriating! Erik lifted his head to the sky, watching as the purples of the sky slowly faded to black as twilight faded into night. He welcomed the cold darkness; it matched the cold feeling in his soul. He felt a chill, and he pulled his cloak closer to him, even though he knew the chill had nothing to do with the elements. He started to pull the hood of his cloak up over his head when his hand brushed the bare side of his right cheek…he realized that he was maskless! Why was he maskless? Christine…Christine always insisted that when it was just the two of them that he not wear his mask to cover the horrible deformity that ruined his life. Curse her! Why did she have to care so much? Erik started to run through the trees, desperate to get to his spot.

Erik's spot was a large solitary rock that protruded out over a river flowing gently through his property. He reached it swiftly, and moved to the edge of the rock, dangling his feet over the surface of the river. The river was calm tonight; it began to make Erik feel better. Erik bent low over the water, and sang into its clear depths:

Don't say I'm out of touch
With this rampant chaos, your reality
I know well what lies behind my sleeping refugee…
The nightmare I built my own world to escape!

Erik sighed. "Christine…" He thought about his life up until the point that he had met her. His only escape from the world was to build his own world, where he was master. Just because he lived a fantasy didn't mean that he did not know what lied just beyond his lair…Erik had lived in the Kingdom of Music, where music could be his escape. Even when he had been a small child in the gypsy camp he had kept a small monkey with cymbals on his hands; he would tap them together to hear the simple music that soothed him. He would sing made up songs to himself when he hurt too much to sleep; and that was most every night. Music was the one thing in his life that had been constant; even when he hadn't had music making means he had his voice. Music kept him sane in all his years of solitude, only to be undone by love. No, not love…obsession. He obsessed over everything: his music, his art, his lyrics; therefore it certainly wasn't a big leap for him to become obsessed with his love for Christine. Obsession had cost him everything: his home, his safety. What he wouldn't give to go back! What he wouldn't give to know the things that he knew now back in his past…

As soon as Erik thought this, he immediately felt a wave of crushing guilt course through his body. Christine. That is what he had now, and no matter how he might wish to go back to a past and home where he felt completely in control, he would never trade what he had with Christine. She was the weight that kept his soul sane; she was the sole reason for his existence. And how do you repay her? You deny her…you run from her…you make her weep…Erik swallowed the sob that threatened to spill from his mouth. What had he done in his rage? What had he said? Erik didn't know, and all he could do was sit on his rock and look at the river. Every ounce of his being wanted to rush back to her, drop on bended knee, and beg her forgiveness a thousand times. But his pride wouldn't let him. He was poisoning their love…not by his face, but by his refusal to swallow his own pride and let the last barriers down in his mind. He had promised himself to her on their wedding day: his mind, soul, heart and body. But he had still not let her see a past that was too much for him to bear…and he was so tired of carrying it alone…

In the last fading light of the day, Erik leaned over and stared at his reflection in the water. His green-blue eyes studied his reflection critically. He found the left side smooth and handsome, while the right was a mass of bumps and crevices, exposed veins adding a reddish tint to his skin. He flung his hand into the water, distorting his image. When it returned, he leaned down once more, torturing himself with his own reflection, when he saw part of Christine's face covering his right side. He gasped and spun directly around. Christine was standing directly over him.

She was breathing hard, obviously from running in the woods. Her dress was torn and dirty, and she had several bloody scratches, including one on her cheek. Christine just stood there, surveying Erik's blue-green eyes with her own chocolate ones. She finally dropped to the ground in front of him, and grabbed his hands between her own.

Christine started to sing, and her angel voice filled the night.

When you try your best but you don't succeed,
when you get what you want but not what you need,
when you feel so tired but you can't sleep
stuck in reverse

When the tears come streaming down your face,
when you lose something you can't replace,
when you love someone but it goes to waste
could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
and ignite your bones
and I will try to fix you.

High up above or down below,
when you're too in love to let it go,
if you never try you'll never know,
just watch and learn.

Lights will guide you home!

She finished as suddenly as she began, and Erik thought his heart would break in the silence. Erik looked at Christine, and then quickly looked down at his hands still entwined in hers.

"How can you love me so much? I can't protect you from myself. I've tried, but I can't keep my wretched existence from tarnishing yours. I don't deserve you, Christine, and I never will…" Erik looked mournfully away, back toward the river and its calming waters.

Christine reached her hand to turn his face back towards her own.

"Erik, you're my soul mate. I love you more than you will ever know…but you have to stop this self loathing. You said to me once that you wanted me to lead you from your solitude. Do you truly want that, my love? Do you truly want me to show you what it is to live in the light, and not the darkness? Your soul…it has been damaged. But I can heal it; I can fix it. You have lived your life as a creature of darkness, and you are alone no longer."

Christine cupped his cheek in her hand, and Erik nuzzled it.

"I feel so foolish about my outburst…I never meant to hurt you, Christine, I swear! But the world has shown me no compassion-"

"Have you shown the world compassion? By hiding in the dark and wishing you were dead? By cursing anyone able to see your loneliness and emptiness?"

Christine pulled her hand away. Erik looked at Christine in shock. He merely shook his head. "I truly am sorry about my words earlier. You are trying to help me. In all ways. I just want to be normal, Christine. I want to live a normal life in the city. I want to have children and not worry about them being born with a cursed deformity! That's all I want…"

"Are you sure? Do you think that a normal man could compose an opera? Or sing as the Angels sing? Or paint an image so realistic that you would swear it was the real thing? Do you think that I would have fallen in love with just a normal man? No, Erik, you will never be normal, but it is not because of the way you look. You are a genius! I was so proud today when Javere spoke to me about making your opera the season opener! I was happy…but if you can't accept that you must utilize your gifts rather than your curse, then I know that you will never be happy. And you will always be alone."

Christine rose from the ground and stared coldly at Erik. The darkness around them was complete, but Erik could feel the ice in her gaze. Christine turned to go. Erik grabbed her hand.

"Christine…I will meet with Javere tomorrow, and I will accept his offer to become patron. I…don't want to be left in the darkness. I will share with you everything about my past…I just need time, Christine. What you ask of me is a task that could be my undoing; and yet if I don't release my burden then I know that I will lose my sanity. You are so young, Christine. You know nothing of the realities of the world. I wanted to shelter you from them, not expose you to them. The feelings that I am left with in my past are raw and brutal. They will not be pleasant to relive. But I must. And I do it not just for you, but for myself as well."

Christine nodded in acceptance. She pulled him close to her body, embracing him with a fire that was burning for him alone. "You are my strong one, Angel. But sometimes you can be so stubborn…I am sorry that we fought…it was our first married fight."

Erik looked about. They were alone, in the beauty of the night, with the gentle flow of the river and the forest noises merging to become their music of the night. Erik smiled at Christine.

"But now we get to make up…"

And, well, you can use your vivid imagination.

The next morning dawned bright and cheerful. Erik felt the light from the open window hit his eyes, and he turned and placed his head under his pillow. He groaned. Why must the morning come so soon? He brought his head back up, and glanced at the sleeping angel beside him. Christine's hair was a mess, and her mouth was half open. Erik brought his hand up and gently stroked her curls. She did not stir. She must have been really tired last night, Erik thought, with a bit of a roguish grin playing on his lips. Last night had been spectacular. He felt closer to Christine now than he had ever before. Erik kissed her softly on the forehead. This time she peeked at him through half closed lids. She yawned.

"Why so early, Angel…I hate the mornings so…" Christine rose to a sitting position on the bed. She turned and glanced at Erik, who was still lying on his side. He looked at her, the expression on his face a bit tight.

"Did I…have another nightmare, Christine?" His concern was obvious in his voice, but so was the doubt. Christine still did not think that he truly believed that he had nightmares, but she merely shrugged.

"Nothing happened last night…you must have been too tired…" Christine blushed, the reddish glow spreading over her cheeks. Erik laughed.

"What are your plans for today?"

"Well, I want to make a good impression on M. Javere. I want to make sure the house is perfect and dinner is perfect and that you are perfect…" Christine's voice trailed off as Erik swung his feet over the bed to touch the ground. He glanced at her over his shoulder.

"You worry too much. It won't be the dinner or the house that makes Javere change his mind…"

"Erik…please don't say things like that. Have you ever considered just telling him why you wear a mask?" The look he gave her was piercing and angry.

"Oh, I can just see how that would work: 'My dear future manager, the reason that I wear this mask is not because I think I look better in it, but because I have a face of a monster, and if you saw it, you would scream and run in terror.' Yes, Christine, that would work wonderfully," Erik's words dripped in sarcasm.

"Erik…"

"No Christine! Do you think that I haven't considered what I'm going to say when he asks me about it? I mean, if I saw a man wearing a mask, I would probably ask him why he wore it too. It's not like people have a regard for other people's privacy."

Erik sighed and blew out the remaining anger. He turned to face Christine.

"I'm sorry, my Angel. I'm just a little…"

"Nervous."

"No, not nervous!

"Scared?"

"I do not get scared, Christine."

"Then what?"

"Concerned. I am concerned about what will happen today. I haven't met a single person since we left the Opera, my dear, and with good reason. I don't take well to strangers, and if he were to go back to Paris, speaking of a masked gentleman, then it would be only a matter of time before we had a mob outside our door!"

"Erik, please stop being so pessimistic! Is it too much to think that maybe Javere is an honorable man? How about this scenario, Angel? What if he comes to dinner, meets you, and still wants you as a patron? That is what you want, right?

Erik sighed. "Of course that's what I want…I just don't want anything bad to happen. I could care less what happens to me, but you…think of what would happen, Christine, if I were caught. You would be an object of ridicule and pity. People would not be able to comprehend you choosing to be my wife. It would ruin your life if people knew…"

Christine came to sit beside him on the bed. "It's a good thing, then, that I don't care about people…I care about you. If we can't get past a dinner with Javere, then we will never be able to get past the big problems that arise in a marriage…"

She smiled at him, and batted her eyes. "And if all else fails, we could move to Italy. It's so lovely this time a year."

Erik laughed and pulled her into an embrace. "I love you, Angel. What ever would I do without you?"

She pulled away, eyes sparkling. "I don't know, Erik. But we will never have to find out."

The rest of the day passed in a blur of activity. Erik shut himself away in the music room, partly to stay out of the way, and partly to relieve the tension building in the pit of his stomach. Christine rushed about the house, making sure that everything was still in order. She readied the guest rooms as well, for Madam Giry and Meg were going to stay for a few days. Dinner was set to begin at four o'clock, and Christine was a little shocked when there was a knock at her door at noon. She went to the front entry way, and glanced at herself in the mirror by the door. Her hair was in a handkerchief, and she was covered in dust and dirt. Erik emerged from the music room.

"Is someone at the door?"

Christine nodded.

"Are you going to let them in?"

Christine shook her head, gesturing at her appearance. Erik shrugged, and moved past her to open the door himself.

"Well, you certainly keptme waiting. Was Christine worried about her dress being dirty?" Meg's cheerful head popped in through the door. Christine grinned and ran toward her best friend. Meg threw herself onto Christine, enveloping her in a big hug.

"How did you know?" Christine stepped back from her friend. She looked beautiful, her long blonde locks held back on the sides by a blue ribbon, which matched the blue of her dress perfectly.

"I know you too well, Christine. And Erik! It's so nice to see you…" Meg came forward and extended her hand. Erik smiled and kissed it briefly.

"Nice to see you too, Meg," he said, pleased that she hadn't launched herself at him as she had done with Christine. "Where is Marie?"

"She's arguing with the carriage driver…he won't bring our bags in! Can you believe the nerve? Mother refused to pay him…"

With a scowl, Erik went outside. Sure enough, Madam Giry, her petite frame clutching her cane, was in a heated discussion with the driver of the carriage.

"Look, lady, I'm a carriage driver. I drive carriages, I get paid, and then I drive some more. I don't carry bags in. I am not a luggage carrier, just a driver." The driver was speaking in an elevated voice. "Now, you had better pay me now, or I'll-"

"You'll what, Monsieur?"

The driver turned in surprise. His eyes took in Erik's significantly taller frame, and lingered on his mask. He spoke in a disrespectful tone.

"Me and the lady are just having a little disagreement, Monsieur. It really is none of your concern."

"Well, you see, good Sir, you are having an argument with a woman who I have a great deal of respect for. To hear you speak to her in such a degrading way…do you see where I might have a problem?" Erik started in closer to the driver, his hand going to his side. The driver took several steps backward.

"I see, Monsieur, I see. I will take Madam's bags in…"

"Thank you, Monsieur. I am glad that you see things my way…" The driver moved to the back of the carriage, and got the bags. As he left toward the house, Erik addressed Madam Giry.

"Really, Marie, such arguments are beneath you. I would have been happy to bring in your bags."

Madam Giry smiled at him, and leaned a bit on her cane. "I know you would have, but it was the principal of the matter…you could be so kind as to help me into the house. I am a bit tired from the journey."

Erik looked at her in concern. "Are you feeling well, Marie?" he asked as he offered his arm.

"Yes, I just fear that age is catching up with me a little. So, Erik…I assume that you took the news of this dinner well?" Erik glanced at her with a dark look, and Madam Giry laughed.

"So you took it exactly as I anticipated."

With Meg's help, Christine finally was able to get everything done that she wanted. Dinner was ready to be served, the dining room looked enchanting, and the fresh flowers from the garden were strewn about the house in vases. Christine was quite proud of what she and Meg had accomplished. Madam Giry and Erik had stayed in the music room, catching up. Christine glanced at the time, and found that M. Javere was due to arrive in half an hour. She yelped.

"Meg, Monsieur Javere will be here shortly! I'm not dressed! Neither is Erik! Meg!" Christine was having a meltdown, and Meg just laughed at her.

"Calm down Christine…I'll finish up in the kitchen, and you go and get Erik. It will be fine…stop being so nervous!"

Christine hurried from the kitchen to the music room. She was about to open the door, when she heard Madam Giry and Erik…fighting? She was so surprised that before she knew it, her ear was pressed to the door.

"How can you say that? You, of all people, know what it was like. You were there…you saw…how am I suppose to tell her that? How do I tell her what it was like? I can't do it, Marie, I just can't…I couldn't stand to see the fear and pity in her eyes."

"Erik, you aren't in control of this anymore! You promised Christine! You have to think more of her than that…you did marry her, after all! Do you really think that what you tell her will change her image of you? Christine may be young, Erik, but she knows pain…she was an orphan at seven, for God's sake! If you don't trust her with this, if you don't tell her about your life, then you might as well leave tonight!"

Christine heard a loud crash in the room. She leaned in close to the door.

"Damn you, Marie, that's not what I want! I have longed my whole life for the future that I can see now! Christine, a home, children…I don't want to be alone! What if I tell her my horrors, and she can't take it? What if she leaves me?" Erik choked on the words. Christine's heart felt ready to burst. Did she really leave such doubt in their relationship? You left him before, a voice in her head reminded her, you left him broken and unloved.

Christine couldn't bear to hear anymore. She knocked on the door. She heard some scrambling in the room, before Madam Giry called "Enter"

Christine poked her head into the room. Erik was standing, his back facing the door. Madam Giry smiled meekly.

"Erik, we need to get dressed for dinner…," Christine said into the sudden silence of the room.

Erik turned, nodded at Christine, and headed out of the room without a word. Madam Giry glanced sharply at Erik's receding back, and then looked at Christine.

"You heard." It was not a question, but a statement.

Christine nodded. She turned to leave.

"Just give him time, dear. That's all he needs."

Christine didn't answer. She left the room, wondering for the first time if this marriage was truly going to work.