A/N: Emotional chapter coming up.And thanks so much for all the reviews.

iluvdanbyrd: I love how you said about your fanfic "E/C of course"... there's no other way:-D

PhantomoftheSwimmingPool: You asked for another conversation... I had one planned. :) Hope its good.

HorseLady: No, I meant balk. From what I thought it means, it means like to stop dead or hesitate or shy away or just refuse to go on… I'm pretty sure that's the right meaning anyway. Maybe I just have crappy vocabulary, hehe. :)

Chapter 9

Christine let her eyes flutter close as the carriage lurched to a start. An overwhelming relief choked in her throat something like a sob, but she sucked in a deep breath to quell it.

She opened her eyes to see Erik sitting on the seat across from her. He had pulled shut the faded curtains on the windows, and was unwinding the bandages on his face. They were off quickly, and he looked at her with something like reassuring smile, but despite his calm expression, she could see his hands were trembling as he slipped his hand inside his pocket and retrieved his mask.

"Erik?" she said loudly. He jerked his head in her direction, panic skittering across his face before he resumed his composed pretense.

She got up, crouching as she moved beneath the low ceiling across the small interior of the carriage from her seat to his. She slipped in next to him, threading her arm through his.

"Erik, you're shaking."

He turned his eyes to hers, looking unnerved and almost sad. "How manly of me."

She frowned, and he settled back into his seat, closing his eyes. As his head turned away the white surface of his mask disappeared from view. He was in perfect profile now, and she could only see the smooth plane of his cheek and strong jaw line.

Although she knew that the twisted disfigurement lay just on the other side of that face, it didn't matter to her at all. Handsome or hideous, deformed or faultless, she loved him, all of him. If it were the other side facing her, even without the mask she would still feel all the love for him as she did now.

She reached out her hand and cupped his face. "Erik, are you alright?"

He opened his eyes and gazed at the empty space across the carriage. "For now."

If sapphire and jade were to fuse and create some strange jewel hybrid, it would be the color of Erik's eyes. But the beautiful twin pools of color were now troubled, strangely frightened even now in the safety of the carriage.

She settled into the curve between his body and arm, placing her hand gently on his chest. "Please tell me what's wrong."

He glanced down at her, then away. "I can't help but feel so… uneasy. Paranoid."

His chest rose and fell as he spoke, and he seemed to be having difficulty putting his feelings into words, expressing his thoughts. Its not as if he did it often, she knew. He could sing his emotions with an unparalleled power, she thought suddenly, compose music that spoke of every emotion possible… but simple discussion seemed to undo him.

"I feel guilty, Christine!" he burst out suddenly. "I risked our lives. I don't know who is out looking for me. You don't deserve this, if it wasn't for me – "

"No," she interrupted him, "You can't say that!"

"I can, and I will," he retorted. "I only speak the truth. You know its true."

"I know that what's true? That I love you, Erik… this running, this hiding, if this is what it takes…"

She broke off, and he circled his arm around her tighter, pulling her closer to him. She pressed her face into his chest beneath his chin, the silky folds of his cravat soft against her cheek.

"Christine," he murmured, his voice resonating in his chest. "Ma cher. I am just sorry that… I just feel as if I am dragging you through a mess." His breath caught in his throat. "I am afraid to see you hurt somehow, either in the body or in the soul..."

He broke off, and she tilted her head up, gazing at the side of his frowning face.

"This is not what I wanted..." His voice sounded rough, despairing, his eyes dark and sad. "I feel like a fleeing deer pursued by a hunter. But it's not me… I am worried for your sake, Christine…"

"Don't be!" she sat up straighter, her heart breaking at the naked emotions written on his face.

"I'm risking our lives," Erik continued, "Namely yours."

"I'm not going to die, and I'm not going to be hurt."

"I don't mean that I'm risking your life literally. I mean that I'm risking your future."

He passed his hand across his face with a heavy sigh. "Christine… you are youth and sunshine, beauty and innocence… you could've been the greatest diva in France. To condemn you to this life of… darkness and hiding… would be too cruel."

"Erik – "

He continued as if she hadn't spoken. "That's why I let you go, Christine!" The words seemed to choke in his throat suddenly.

"You did it because you thought I loved Raoul."

"That too."

"That mostly."

"….yes."

Raoul had loved her in his own way. She knew that. He had showered her with affection, sweet sentiments and little gifts, hugs and kisses and kind words. But never had he shown this raw emotion like Erik did, this unbridled passion for everything emotion he felt, be it anger, sadness, fear, or love. It made her yearn for Erik all the more.

"You aren't condemning me to anything, Erik! I can still sing. You can teach me more. We won't be running forever – the search will stop eventually." She didn't know that for sure. Erik had killed at least two men. The cold hard facts stung her, but that's just what they were, facts. The question was, how far would the police of Paris be willing to go in the name of justice? Would they be trying to "rescue" her? The thought made her shiver in fear and anxiety.

"Please, don't be worried, we'll be together, we'll be safe…" she knew she was rambling, but all she wanted at that moment was to comfort him, and herself too, to dispel the air of foreboding that hung over them like a heavy cloud.

All the emotions of the past twenty-four hours were catching up to her, and she felt her eyes tearing up. The constraint strain on both their nerves was taking its toll, and this new outburst was like the straw that broke the camel's back.

She scrubbed at her face with the back of her hand, and sucked in a calming breath. She needed to be rid of the naïve child, the innocent girl that had begun to fade since that first night in his lair. It had vanished almost completely since then, but that little girl was still there hiding inside, just waiting for the moment to burst out and sob and cry and beat her fists on the floor. Figuratively speaking, anyway.

Erik turned his gaze on her suddenly. "I love you, Christine." He said the words forcefully. "Because of that, I don't want you unhappy or unwilling." He stared at her for a moment longer, then looked away.

Her heart wanted to break for him… rejected and unwanted for so long, so hesitant to accept or believe in the love of another.

He had naturally fabricated walls and barriers to shield his heart and mind. They had started to crumble as his love for her grew when he tutored her so many months ago, the tendrils of hope and devotion creeping in through the cracks and breaking down the barriers. They were quickly flung up again after that night on the rooftop with Raoul, and the thought made Christine's heart pang with shame and guilt. That was in the past – she would be able to forgive herself and forget. But could Erik?"

"Erik." She spoke his name slowly and clearly. He didn't respond, and she reached out and cupped his masked cheek gently, the tight leather surface hard and smooth beneath her fingers. She turned his face to hers, and he lifted his blue-green gaze to her own.

"I… I know I've done things that have hurt you," she began, the words hesitating behind her lips. "God, I wish I hadn't. But please… Erik, I wouldn't be here with you if I didn't love you. If I didn't want to devote my heart and soul to you, I would be back in Raoul's arms! But that's not what I wanted." His face swam in her vision because of the sheen of tears in her eyes, but she swallowed a sob in her throat and continued. "I'm not unhappy with the decision I've made. Don't be afraid that I'll change my mind. Don't worry that I'll have regrets."

She lowered her eyes and the movement set off the tears that had been barely clinging to her lashes. She felt the felt hot tears slide down her cheeks, the bumping of the carriage making them trace jagged paths down her face.

"The only regret I have is denying you until now. And I'll do whatever it takes to make that up to you."

Her hand was still on his cheek, and he turned his head slightly to the side and pressed a kiss into her palm. He reached up and took her hand, his fingers encircling her wrist like a bracelet, and drew her closer to him. She leaned into the comfort of his presence, her cheek pressing into his shoulder and smudging her tears as he held her tightly in the crook of his arm. He placed a lingering kiss on the top of her head amidst her curls.

"Christine, I love you…" he sang the words ever so softly under his breath. Just that one phrase in his melodic voice made her smile into his coat.

"I know."