A/N - ah... sweet bliss. This chapter is named after a Sarah Mclachlan song. I might name some others after her songs. Also, I need to let you know that I've gone over this and over this piece, for some reason when I use the Quick Edit on the site, it randomly removes spaces from the story, I did indeed go back and check my chapters on my computer and they did not have that problem. Therefore, if there isn't a space between to words know it's not me but a glitch with the program.

Chapter Five: You Do What You Have To Do.

I must say, all the same,
that it's a shame
that 'Phantom' fellow isn't here!

After three whole months, he was finally back. Three months of not constantly being beside her at ever corner from a distance, three months of worrying if she was all right, three months of barely any sleep. He concluded that he would never be able to leave again, for although he was gone for three months, he was never far from her in mind and spirit. Going away to sort his feelings had been a reasonably logical idea at the time, but every fiber of his soul had yearned to be near her in his absence. It was one of the most trying tests of will he had ever been put too. And though he missed her and never relaxed once in his travels, he was proud he had accomplished it.

He looked around the small cabin that had been neglected for the last fifteen weeks. Spider webs hung at ever corner and it smelt of old musky mould.

Yes, he told himself, it's just the way I left it.

Slowly he lowered the satchel he was carrying to the ground, groaning at the trying exertion. He mused if she was awake yet, since it was eight o'clock in the morning. If she were up, then he couldn't get as close as he wanted too, but if she were asleep then, he could go visit her as an apparition in her sleep.

Slowly he took off his cloak and hung it up to the side. If he were to go see her, he might as well change into something a little easier to climb around the forest in.

Oh Christine, I have come home to you.

-
(' ) '
-

Your hands are cold . . .
Your face, Christine, it's white . . .

"Mme de Chagny! Vicomtess, Are you alright?" The maid cried, knocking on the door.

"I will be fine in a moment Michelle. Give me that one moment please." Christine said as sweat hung on her brow. Her body retched one last final time into the small basin. Slowly, and somewhat unlady-like she wiped her mouth with her hand. Her breath was ragged and her head ached with a fierce pain. Stumbling, she got up from the floor and walked to the door.

"Will you please send for Dr. Leblanc, Michelle?" she asked from behind the locked door of her powder room. This intense vomiting had been happening for over a week now. At first, she had just taken it as nerves. She had been to many parties in the last few weeks. All parties where Raoul paraded her around to many other couples and while the men chatted away, she tried to make polite conversation with the other woman, only to be shunned and looked at with disgust. I wonder if this was how Erik felt his whole life, she thought sadly.

Yes, it had been happening for quite some time now, and although she had told Raoul many times she was fine, she began to worry that she might be ill. Well enough was enough, she decided. It was time that she had Dr Leblanc examine her so she may find out for sure.

"Of course Madame, anything else I can be of service to you for?" The little maid asked.

"Yes, do we have any peaches? I have an undeniable craving for peaches." Christine mumbled, holding herself protectively. One minute I'm retching into a basin, the next I want something sweet.

"But Madame, it is out of season for the peach." The woman said curiously still behind the door. Christine wiped her face once more, this time with a soft towel before going over to the door and opening it a crack.Charlotte was simply standing there with curious eyes directed at her mistress in awe and concern.

Christine smiled at the thought of this, "Oh dear, then I would love any fruit you can offer."

"Yes, Madame." The young maid said and curtsied. Christine thought of anything else Charlotte could do for her, until she smelt the sour stench emanating from her powder room.

"Oh and Charlotte?" Christine called as she began to walk away from the other side of the door.

"Yes, Madame?"Charlotte asked, and turned around to look at her.

"Can you haveMichelle come and take my basin for cleaning?" Christine asked, "And, Call me Christine."

"Yes Mad... Christine..."

(' ) '
-

May I see her?

No, monsieur,
she will see no one.

Raoul waited down in his study, for Christine had asked to not be disturbed. Something was wrong; Christine had never been one to be ill, even when they were children. He looked at the clock hanging on the mantelpiece; it read three o'clock. He should be here soon, yes soon, soon, soon. Raoul couldn't take it anymore; he didn't fight his whole life for her, only to have her... No, that wouldn't happen.

Oh, how he loved her so much, tears began to well in his eyes.

"Please God, don't let it be, what EVER it may be, life threatening."

(' ) '
-

Too long you've wandered
in winter . . .
Far from my
far-reaching gaze . . .

Why is she lying down, is she ill? Erik thought. How long had she been like this? Did it start when I was away? Could I have protected her against this pain?

He was watching on a perch he called Angel's cove. It was the best way to see into Christine's room. He thought she would no longer be occupying the room once she became the Vicomtess, and maybe she didn't, maybe she was just in need of privacy.

He sat there watching intently as she tossed around lying in the bed.

Then suddenly, without warning she stopped; she perked up and went over to the door to lead a short, stocky, man and the Vicomte into her haven.

(' ) '
-

Angel . . . oh, speak . . .
What endless longings
echo in this whisper . . .

"Uh huh... uh huh." Dr Leblanc said as he felt behind Christine's head, near her neck.

"Breathe in... And now out m'dear..." Dr Leblanc told her, and she did so deeply, trying to relax. He then took his hand and placed it on her abdomen. She did so again, her breath less shaky this time.

"Again..." he said quite in deep thought. Biting her lip, she released her breath. What is he doing? She wondered curiously. Out with it doctor! Tell me what is wrong!

"Good girl, Christine. You said this only happens in the mornings?"

"I only get ill in the mornings, and then I become quite perplexed and uncomfortable for the rest of the day. I haven't been sleeping well and have had cravings." She said, stifling a yawn.

"Uh huh..." The doctor said smiling wryly.

"Christine, I want you to get some sleep, alright? It is imperative you do so. Vicomte de Chagny? I would like to speak with you." Dr. Leblanc said motioning towards the door out of her room.

Of course, Christine was puzzled, and actually a bit bereft that the good doctor would not tell her himself what is going on. Everyone always treated her as a child, except for one person.

Erik.

Erik had always called her child, but in the latter part of their relationship had not treated her as so. To him, she was a woman, a woman worth loving as a wife a mother and for herself, to everyone else she was just a child to be coddled and pampered. She felt suddenly disgusted with herself that she had acted like one as she ran from him and his love.

"Damn them!" she fumed.

Wait, she said stopping herself. Where is this anger coming from? You have never thought this before, why are you being so upset now? Raoul loves you, and you him. He's just so used to taking care of people, he doesn't understand that you don't need to be taken care of like that anymore.

Maybe I should get some sleep like the Doctor said, she thought.

(' ) '
-

I love her!
Does that mean nothing?
I love her!
Show some compassion . . .

Raoul poured himself a glass of brandy he kept on the mantelpiece of the study. He looked at the clock it read three forty-five.

"Doctor, please tell me what has been plaguing my wife." Raoul said, taking a brave step by turning around and looking in the doctor's eyes. He was preparing himself to hear she had consumption, or something life threatening illness of the sort. He even had come to terms with the fact that perhaps Christine was regretting her decisions; perhaps she was really wishing she had stayed with her dark angel underneath the opera house.

"Well I'm not quite sure, but indeed the sickness in the morning is being induced by a physical ailment, if you want to consider it that."

"So, this is not emotionally caused?" Raoul asked finally, having the doctor confirm that his suspicions of Christine's affections wavering to be false.

"No, no, it is definitely physical, I could tell by the swelling in her feet." The doctor commented still smiling politely. Raoul felt anger at the man before him; he wanted to wipe the smile off his face. My wife may be dying and here you are smiling at me! The mentioning of her swollen feet left Raoul more panicked then before. Cautiously, he knew he had to ask what was eating at his mind.

"She's not going to... die... is she?" He asked, his voice cracking.

"No my dear boy! Far from it, she is going to bring a life into this world. At least I believe she will."

Raoul took a second to let this process. Life? As in, a child?

"Christine is with CHILD!" Raoul exclaimed happily.

"Hush, maybe, like I said, I am not sure, until she herself notices that she has missed… her cycle. However from previous cases I have dealt with, Christine is suffering from something dubbed, 'Morning sickness.' it is common with women expecting," The older man said still smiling.

"Oh, dear lord that is WONDERFUL NEWS!" Raoul said with a sigh of relief.

"Why didn't you tell her?" he asked as he fell into his chair that sat across from the doctor.

"Because, She needs rest, and any young woman who thinks they have a child brewing in their womb is going to be excited. Moreover, as I have said many times to deaf ears..." He said looking at Raoul warningly.

"I don't know for sure, it will take a few months. Tell, me do you know anything of Christine's… cycle?" The doctor hesitantly asked Raoul. It wasn't the fact the doctor himself was so embarrassed by the question, but he found it rather amusing to be talking to the Vicomte about womanhood. "OH! Um… Pardon me sir; it is a rather private matter. I do suppose Christine had mentioned to me before that hers were… rather… irregular." Raoul said pensively.

"Indeed, so we may not know for sure until her belly begins to show signs of protrusion. Well, that means I will return in two months to see how far along she is. You will not mention this to her, understood? I am concerned. Yes, most get morning sickness, but it isn't healthy for her sleep to be taken from her. If she is uncomfortable for most of the pregnancy, she will have problems during birth which will lead too..."

"I understand ENTIRELY monsieur." Raoul said quietly. For the last week he had been going through many scenarios where he may loose Christine, this had not been one of them. All of them had shocked him into realizing he wouldn't know what to do without her, and that he could not loose her, if he could help it. So, if lying to her would help her pain to be eased, then so be it.

"Alright... then all is well, but a few words from man to man my dear boy, since this is your first time through this?" The doctor said rising.

"Yes, of course, Doctor."

"She might have a wide variations in emotions. One minute she will be laughing heartily, and the next she will be throwing your most expensive porcelain at your head. Every woman is different. So when she does have these 'changes', understand it is not her, it is these hormones educed by the pregnancy controlling her."

"Yes Monsieur..." Raoul said meekly with a happy smile. He could picture Christine now, throwing something at him for some insignificant reason. If he could handle the Phantom of the opera, he could handle Christine's wrath.

"And one last thing."

"Yes?" Raoul said escorting the man to the door. Once Doctor Leblanc got to it and out, he turned around and looked Raoul straight in the eyes.

"If she wants strawberries with toffee, in the middle of winter, at four in the morning, then you should make sure she receives that those strawberries and toffee. Learn to never underestimate a woman's wrath when she is having cravings." he said with a glint of laughter in his eyes.

Raoul laughed. "Of course, monsieur of course..."

"Goodbye Vicomte de Chagny..." Leblanc said placing his hat on his head, and walking to his carriage.

"Goodbye." Raoul said closing the door.

Christine with child! Oh, what news to send his heart a-soar!

(' ) '
-

Ignorant fool!
This brave
young suitor,
sharing in my
triumph!

Erik watched as the doctor left the house and entered a carriage waiting for him. What was to become of his beloved Christine? Was she ill or not? He had to know!

Slowly he walked down to a spot where he could peer into the Vicomte's study.
He had expected to see the young main as distraught as he was, but was surprised to see him laughing and dancing around the room like a mad man.
Was he happy to be rid of her? No, that couldn't be it. Raoul loved her. Then what could it be?

Then it hit him, like a carriage that hit him at full speed, knocking him into the soft undergrowth of the forest.

Christine was with child.

And it was not his.