In Love

As Christine drifted into consciousness, she became immediately aware that she was alone in Erik's bed. Memories of their first night together came rushing back and panic set her heart thundering. "Erik?" Only silence greeted her and her racing heart began to shatter. She sat up quickly, calling out to him again with a tremor in her voice, "Erik?"

He appeared from the other part of the chamber, already dressed in his shirt, trousers, and the mask back upon his face. He rushed to her and sat upon the edge of the bed, "I am here, mon ange. Just as I promised."

Christine released the breath she'd been holding as she reached for his hand and held it tightly. "I thought you'd gone again."

Erik smiled in reassurance. "I found myself awake early, and thought I would work a little." And brood, of course. As much as he wanted Christine with him again, he could not ignore the harsh reality of their situation. He still had nothing to offer, and Christine deserved so much more than darkness and shadows.

Christine smiled, oblivious to his inner struggles. "Work on what? Certainly not another opera."

He chuckled, "No, only some designs. You should dress, Christine, so that I may return you to Madame Giry. She will wonder what I have done to you."

Christine smiled rather wickedly, "Then I shall have to enlighten her."

Erik shook his head and stood, reaching for Christine's discarded dress. "It is not a matter to jest about, my love. I have no control where you are concerned. This is the second time I have dishonored you."

Christine had slipped from the bed as well, strangely unashamed by her nakedness, and was retrieving her undergarments. "Erik, don't be foolish. You have not dishonored me. I have given myself to you freely...without regret." She pulled on her chemise as she spoke.

"Freely or not, my love, we are not married." He offered her dress to her.

"Are we not?" She mused with a thoughtful smile. "It feels as though we are. It has for some time now." Since the night of Don Juan Triumphant when she had agreed to be his bride, if she were to be truly honest with herself.

Erik sighed in frustration, "Christine, this is impossible. You know that. I am a wanted man. We cannot even be seen together."

Christine finished buttoning her dress and looked at Erik thoughtfully, saying the words she had spoken to him once before. "Perhaps not in Paris, but Paris is not the only city in the world. We could go away from here, where the story of the opera ghost and his beloved soprano has no power."

Erik flung his right hand up towards his mask, his voice hard. "Wherever we go I will still have this face."

Christine stepped towards him and rested her own hand against the unmarred side of his face. Her eyes were soft and her lips curved in a sweet smile. "Yes, Erik, but you will also have your talent, your intellect, your passion…and you will have me. You will have my love, and..." She drew a breath, her soft smile trembling around the edges. "There is something else I am almost certain you will have."

Erik took her hand from his face and pressed a gentle kiss to it, smiling indulgently at Christine's inherent goodness. "And what is that, mon ange?"

Christine looked deeply into his eyes. "I think...I am with child."

All trace of happiness and humor left Erik's eyes. "No…no!" He spun away from her violently, the meaning of her words tearing through his dark soul. "You cannot be...! There can never be a child between us, Christine! I will not allow it!"

Pain and fear assaulted Christine at his cold words, "Not allow it, Erik? You cannot prevent it."

He spun back to her, the icy rage evident in every tense muscle of his body. His eyes were wild and his voice deadly, "You would be surprised what I could do to prevent it!"

Christine reared back and slapped him hard across the face, his head snapped to the right with the force of her blow. She moved to strike him again, but Erik caught her wrist. His rage was suddenly and unexplainably replaced with a strange desperation. "Please, Christine…tell me it is a mistake. I will forgive you anything if you only tell me that the child you carry is not mine."

Christine could barely speak through her tears. Oh, God, he does not want our child. The pain she felt was sharper than any she had ever known. She felt herself teetering on the edge of complete anguish, but she had more than herself to think of, so she forced a calm that she did not feel. "Then I'm afraid that you will not forgive me, for if do I carry a child, he can have no other father but you. And I will not be sorry for it."

Erik released her wrist as if scalded and paced away from her. He turned to spear her with an incredulous glare. "Not sorry for it! And if it is born bearing my mark upon its face, will you be not be sorry for it then?"

Christine drew all of the strength she had recently found within herself to try and make Erik understand. "I will love our child, Erik, no matter what face he wears, because he is ours, and because he was made in love…from love..." Her voice faltered over a choked sob, but she forced herself to continue. "Can you tell me that it will mean nothing to you? That you will not love our child as you have wished to be loved...as you love me..." Christine could not stop her sobs any longer, and stood before him trembling in tears with her hands pressed protectively to her stomach.

Erik stared at her, feeling his poor excuse for a soul being shred to even smaller pieces. She meant it! He could see...Christine had meant this to be a happy thing. What had he done? "Christine..."

Erik stepped towards her and felt his heart shatter when she took a wary step back. He truly must be a monster to be so cruel towards her in her time of need. He reached for her in desperation, and when she did not back away again, Erik dropped to his knees in front of her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his face to her stomach as he whispered raggedly, "Forgive me, Christine. Please...forgive me."

Christine tangled one hand into his hair and pressed the other to his back, holding him tightly to her for long moments as she struggled with her own emotions. She had known this would not be easy for him. His life had been hell because of his disfigurement, and now she was asking him to risk passing that hell on to an innocent child. She would have been terribly naïve not to have already thought of every possible outcome to her pregnancy, but in every outcome, her own heart had remained unchanged. With or without Erik, Christine would have his child and give to it all the love that should have been given to Erik himself. So the words when they came were easy to say, "Yes, Erik. I forgive you."

He drew his head back to look up into her red-rimmed eyes, whispering in disbelief, "A child...?" He shook his head slightly, uncertain what to say now.

Christine traced her fingers down his cheek. "It will take time for you to accept, I know, but you will come to love our child as I do, Erik."

He dropped his head again, hiding his eyes from her so she would not see the doubt lingering there. He sighed heavily, and released his grip on her waist so that he could stand. "Come Christine, you have stayed too long in this cold cellar already. You should not be here in your condition. I will walk you to the end of the tunnel."

Christine's hand on his arm stopped him, her eyes were wide and pleading and her voice trembled slightly. "Erik, you will not disappear on me, will you?"

He met her eyes evenly. "I will make arrangements for us, Christine. We will leave Paris as soon as possible."

Relief passed over her beautiful face. "Yes, Erik." His words had not been phrased as a question, but Christine had needed him to hear her answer nonetheless. She stepped into his arms and hugged him tightly, relieved to feel him return her embrace.

When finally they parted, Erik led her towards the entrance of the tunnels, cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her gently before watching her slip into the back alley. Erik kept a watchful eye until she was safely in the street and on her way back to the boarding house. Then he sank back into the shadows.

A/N: Poor Erik probably could have handled that better…but at least he didn't totally blow it. Christine's newly acquired backbone sure is coming in handy.

Until tomorrow, kind readers.