Pain, blinding pain shot throughout Christine's body, causing her to writhe violently beneath tangled sheets of satin as she awoke to the dark surroundings. It was all she could do just to keep from crying out while the feeling of hot flames licked the pits of her stomach. Forcing herself to breathe deeply, the world swam before her and she clenched her fists until a small trickle of red escaped her grasp, waiting for the newly placed pain to ground her.

How long had it been since she fed? A day? Two? Well she could not wait another, not with this agony coursing through her. What was it that Catherine had told her? That the body's first instinct is to live and that it will do whatever possible to accomplish this, despite the force of will opposed to it.

Feed she must, meaning she had to get Erik to let her out. Oh she was by no means his prisoner; that she knew though he may be under a different impression. But even knowing this, she could still not bare to truly face him. She knew this the moment she heard that incredible instrument of a voice he possessed again. Such power he could hold over her with only a simple look, the smallest of gestures, or a quiet word… why was it she hadn't left?

Christine bit into her pillow as yet another stab of pain made its way through her trembling body. But the pain was lessening, and her world was coming back into clear view. It was then she noticed the two distinct voices carrying lightly through the walls and into her room.

"You can't keep her here Erik," the first said, sounding oddly familiar. There was a slight pause before the foreign male voice continued. "And the Vicomte? What of him?"

Raoul. Of all things they could talk about, why this? Raoul was dead. She had watched and done nothing, as he was killed mere feet in front of her. She was the last thing he saw before his eye went blank and he had even forgiven her just minutes before. He had done nothing, known nothing but still he remained dead and she alive.

A short, disinterested sound was heard before the Persian spoke again. "How could you, even I would've thought –"

"That's the funny thing about you, isn't it daroga?" interrupted Erik in a caustic tone. "You always say I couldn't and yet I always do…"

Christine moved closer to her door, not wishing to miss any of their conversation yet also dreading what would be said.

"Let her go."

"Do you really expect a spider to release a fly that so willingly comes into its web?" Erik's voice had now turned quiet, and unsettling. "Besides, Christine seems to have lost her aversion to spiders."

Closing her eyes as a sharp wave of shame coursed through her body, Christine released a deep trembling sigh but listened on.

"What are you talking about?" asked the Persian in growing frustration. "The point is you let her go! You promised to leave her alone."

"If you're not going to listen, I really don't see why I should repeat myself. I told you, Christine came to me… in a manner of speaking."

"In a manner of speaking, I know what that means."

"Do you?" There was another pause. "Oh spare me that look, I assure you, I did not kill the Vicomte."

Christine took a staggering step back from the door. Of course the public would have discovered him by now, why should she think she'd be spared such news here? She knew why she was still here, because here she could escape the horror of reality. This world was all one magnificent dream to her once…

"Well then perhaps you would care to explain why he's dead and she's here?"

"Amazing, isn't it?" There was a soft chuckle. "Perhaps fate has finally decided to smile kindly upon my glorious face? But no, Christine seems to be genuinely distressed at the mention of the boy."

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that you had no part in any of this?"

"What I expect is to be left alone." There was definitely a threatening note of finalisation in Erik's now sneering voice. Christine could tell his patience was wearing thin.

"I'm serious Erik. I won't let you get away with this."

Dear god, why was he provoking him?

"Are you threatening me, daroga? And in my own house? I dare say you've grown quite foolish in your old age, my friend."

At the sound of muffled movement, Christine thought it best to finally interrupt the conversation while she still had her nerves about her. She opened the door.

"Christine." It was Erik who spoke, in a voice quite different from the threatening one she had just heard. He was looming over the Persian who turned to face her as she stepped away from the opened door.

Nadir could only gape at her, she had forgotten how she must appear to them. Ghostly pale to the near point of transparency and with skin drawn tight against her features, she must have seemed little more than a shade of her former self. Erik, though the masked hid most of his expression, was obviously very agitated by what he saw and made an uncharacteristically clumsy step towards her in concern.

"You are not well Christine, you shouldn't even be standing. Go back to bed at once, I'll be in in a moment." Erik made to usher her back into her room but Christine stealthily manoeuvred away, keeping the Persian between the two of them.

"Madam la Vicomtess, what has happened? What has he done?" Nadir was too shocked to make any real movement but the look he shot at Erik was one of pure condemnation. "You have gone too far this time. Tell me, does she even know what has happened to her husband?"

Completely ignoring him, Erik continued to stare contemplatively at Christine, his eye roving over her form carefully, knowing something was very wrong indeed. She as well seemed unable to speak. The pain in her body continued to pound against her while the image of Raoul's dead eyes seemed to drown all other thoughts.

"You killed him Erik. The least you can do is admit it to her. You see what this news has done to her."

Anger welled up within her as she turned her piercing gaze to the Persian. How dare he. How dare he, when it was she who had to see her husband's horror stricken face every time she closed her eyes. It would be so easy to kill him. To simply turn his head and sink her teeth into his neck and she would at last be rid of this burning hunger, at least for a time.

With a violent tremor, Christine forced her eyes closed for a moment before speaking. "Erik had nothing to do with it."

"How can you be s—"

"Because I was there!" she cut in forcefully, her eyes ablaze in anguish. "I watched it happen. I held his lifeless body in my arms. I closed those dead eyes which will forever haunt me!"

Christine then collapsed into the nearby divan, giving over to a few silent sobs and hiding her face in shame for giving into such an outburst. For being so weak, even after everything she had gone through and seen.

"Nadir, I believe it is time for you to leave. Go. Now," came Erik's voice, in a strangely calm and resigned manner.

Christine did not look up until she heard the gentle sound of the door being shut and she knew they were alone.

Please R&R ; )

A/N: I've finally got an update for ya, though I'm not too impressed by it… I admit that I find long pieces of dialog difficult so I'm not sure how this turned out but let me know what you think! I've also had the oh so fun job of trying to keep Christine in character around Erik when she knows she's more powerful then him… not an easy task when her fear of him is usually a central part of her character. It's been driving me nuts, really, and I don't think I've gotten it right yet : / (gee, can you tell i'm paranoid)