A/N: I know that some of you are going to be mad at me for the short chapter, but I wanted to leave you with a cliffhanger on this one. The anticipation for E & C to finally meet has to be prolonged a bit longer. I will post the next chapter tonight most likely as I don't particularly like to be on the hook too long either.

Ch. 7 – What You Don't Know Can't Hurt You

Christine knew that something was wrong. Stone hadn't come back with the Captain's answer and he had left hours ago. It wasn't like him to not come by. She thought he would have at least come back for the breakfast dishes. She had just completed reading a chapter of Tom Sawyer to Charles and had returned to her sewing after the boy had fallen asleep again.

This captain was surely an enigma. Why would he possibly want to remain completely unknown to her, she wondered? Each thought that she had with regards to a reason caused her to grow more and more uneasy. The man was hiding something, of this she was sure. But what? He had nothing to fear from her, he must know that. He was her knight in shining armor for goodness sakes. Perhaps she should just knock on his door and tell him, not waiting for permission. What was the worst he could do to her? Throw her overboard? She laughed at the thought. No one was that cruel.

As she opened the door to her cabin, Stone was exiting his own room. "Christine what are you doing?" he asked with alarm.

"I have decided to go to the Captain and give him my thanks."

"No, you shouldn't do that. He's very busy right now. Come back inside." He led her back into her cabin, glancing down the hallway before he shut the door.

"Stone, this is ridiculous. The man saved my son's life! Why is he hiding from me?"

"I don't have an answer for you Christine", he said desperately. "He has his reasons I'm sure."

She regarded his expression with suspicion. "You're keeping something from me."

"Christine, leave the Captain alone. He doesn't want to see you." His voice had taken on an edge, a warning tone.

"As you wish," she relented. At once he realized that he didn't believe her. With a sigh of resignation he picked up the breakfast tray and left.

It bothered her all day and into the night. She kept herself busy with the sewing and with Charles. Several times he had asked when the Captain was going to come and see him. She told him that the man had duties to catch up on and that he would see him once his tasks were complete.

Having finally made up her mind, Christine told her son, "I am going to go and see the Captain after you have fallen asleep tonight. I will tell him that you wish to see him."

Charles's reaction surprised her, "Don't go see him Mama. You won't like him."

"What are you talking about Charles? Why wouldn't I like him?"

Charles looked uncomfortable with the question that she had posed. She didn't want to upset her son, but couldn't believe that he too was against her meeting the man. She gentled her tone and said, "I will like him fine. You'll see. Now get some rest, little man." He remained quiet and closed his eyes, apparently not willing to tell her why she wouldn't like the Captain.

She looked at her image in the mirror, staring into her own brown eyes. Don't be afraid, Christine. He's only a man. She took several deep breaths and decided it was now or never.

As she reached for the doorknob her son whispered, "You won't like his mask, Mama. You don't like masks remember?"

Her hand froze in halfway to the door. Every part of her body had gone numb except for her stomach. She felt very clearly the pit that was in her stomach from fear.

It is not Erik. He's dead! She screamed inside of her mind.

Stone's earlier question came back to her. How do you know? She didn't know for sure, she only believed it because Raoul wanted her to. Just as he had wanted her to believe that there was no Phantom. Just as he had wanted her to believe that Erik wouldn't take her if she performed his opera. He had been wrong those times. She remembered the back of the man she had seen in the hallway, the stories the man had told her son, the dream that wasn't a dream that she had the night before. And she knew Raoul had been wrong again.

It can't be possible. She realized that she couldn't stand anymore. Slowly she sank to the floor in shock. It can't be possible.

That was why he didn't want to see her, and why Charles had said that he looked like him. He believed that under the mask, Erik had the same affliction he did. She saw the past few weeks clearly for the first time. She looked at her son who had given in to his exhaustion. He lived because of Erik. Raoul's son owed his life to the man who would have killed his father.

As suddenly as she came to this realization, another thought came to her. He is using Charles to get to me! He would use the boy as leverage to make her submit to him once and for all. It explained his eager fondness of the boy and why he went to such great pains to save his life. He was after her again.

Fear was replaced with anger, and with purpose she got to her feet. Without any thought she flew down the passage to his door and ripped it open. The room was deserted.

If there had been any doubts before, they were gone for good as she examined his room. From the black velvet coverlet and blood red pillows on his bed, to the clutter all around her, this room screamed Erik. From the corner of her eye, she saw the music box with the figure of the monkey on top. His gaze was mocking her, calling her a fool for not knowing the truth sooner. She approached his desk and examined the numerous papers that littered the top. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she looked at the familiar handwriting, moving pieces to reveal those underneath.

Her back was to the open door, so she didn't see him enter the room. He had known even before reaching the doorway that she had discovered the truth. Both the door to his cabin and hers stood open. Moving down the hall, he had closed her room up and proceeded to the final threshold.

He stood there in the archway letting his eyes wander over her form. She was wearing a dark blue, velvet dress without frills of any sort. Her hair was gathered at the nape of her neck and hung down her back.

He cursed himself a fool for believing that they would be able to cross the Atlantic without confrontation. It had been inevitable, hadn't it? Fate had brought her to seek out passage in Le Havre the very same night that his first mate had departed the ship to buy a box of truffles for his wife. They were to set sail the following day. Had she been one day later, she would be on someone else's ship. But she hadn't been a day later, and she was here now to play her part in fate's cruel drama.

He hesitated no longer and entered the cabin. When he closed the door with a click, her head lifted, but she remained with her back to him. Using his reprimanding tone that she had been so accustomed to many years ago, he inquired, "Did I not instruct that you were to remain in your cabin?"