NOTES: ok, updating a lot more frequently now. I would just like to say a HUGE thank you to all my faithful readers who religiously post reviews. I adore getting them, so please review when you read plz! The story is going through a sad spell again, and there is more to come I promise you! Nad xxxx

Two days past, and to his honest words, the sergeant came for Erik. It was an unusual cloudy day, yet Erik still had to shield his eyes from the light when he was dragged out, which had been deprived of him for the days in prison.

It took the courage of 9 large, scowling men to bring Erik from his cell. Although he was only one man, it seemed his presence made another man doubtful of his own strength. His intimidating manner of standing perfectly poised, chin outright and eyes ahead, keeping his gaze vacant and untouched, gave a sense of mystery and awe. Even in his dirty clothes, his unshaven face and his chains, he looked nothing less than a man of power mixed with danger.

One again, Erik was loaded into the back of a carriage, another cell. He had just enough time to see that there were a few carriages around his own, and once they were on the move, he could hear them rambling behind his.

The journey put Erik into an exhausted state. It wasn't the way he had to hold himself steady every time the carriage jerked violently, sometimes sending him crashing into the walls, it was the sleeplessness he had found himself in, he couldn't tell if it was day or night, but Christine kept him awake with her last lingering touch of her lips after she had left from her visit the day before. He felt in and out of an uneasy sleep as his limp body was flung about the carriage ungracefully…

Christine had seen Erik loaded into the prison like carriage from her own. She had jumped out quickly from the door, and ran towards the large men. They held out their arms to block her from going near Erik's carriage.

"We cannot let anyone near." One man spoke, quite roughly in French. " He dangerous prisioner."

"No, no I must…please! Let me past!"

Christine struggled against them, but was held back with ease. They repeated their orders to keep people away, and held her at an arms length. There were to many people about for her to begin shouting his name, any quieter than a shout and he would not have heard her. She herself didn't want to be lock away for madness.

She sighed, frustrated and upset. The carriage which held Erik had already begun to roll away along with his escorts. She jumped back into her own carriage, that clambered after the trail.

The journey had been a day towards the edges of the Persian boarders. There had been chaos in the town where the train station lay, as the police tried to clear the gathered crowds, now with their interests flared, gathering more spectators. Christine and Nasih failed to get through the crowds to get a glimpse of Erik, and they failed to get past any guard that was posted near his train carriage.

Christine had reluctantly been pulled into a small cabin room by Nasih. She pleaded with him to let her go and see Erik, but he argued back.

"Wait till the crowds go down and the trains pulls away. You might be allowed to see him properly then."

She gave in, and remained silent for the remainder of the day. The train waited a long time in station for any late passengers, and it was a mail train that would be taking the new Mont Cenis railway tunnel through the Alps, which meant it carried a lot of business travelers that needed to be waited for.

Finally at sunset, the train pulled out. It had been running for less than 10 minutes before Christine had barraged her way to the back of the train.

Nasih had managed to pack a few clothes for her and Erik, which Christine took with her in a bag. The police who guarded Erik's carriage inspected it thoroughly before letting her pass. Finally, they opened the prison like carriage door to allow her to enter.

Erik was seated upon a shelf like seat that protruded from one of the walls. His head lay slumped in his hands, and his dark hair fell in-between his fingers. Christine felt a lump rising in her throat at the sight of him. His shirt was torn in places and his clothes were dirty and dishevelled. What Christine saw that shocked her the most, was the mask he wore, was discarded next to him. The black ebony mask that covered both sides to Erik's face, the one he had worn at their performance all those months back of Don Juan, lay forgotten.

Her heard her padding footsteps over the rattling of the train's wheels on steel tracks, and looked up, quickly covering one side of his face with a hand, then dropping it slightly in seeing who it was. The other hand had followed in his action, as both his hands, and feet, where chained together. They rattled unceremoniously as he stood to greet her.

Christine flew into his chest, yet back away at a wince and grunt from his throat. The bullet wound in his shoulder, which had been ignorantly bandaged, still caused him a great amount of pain. She stood on tiptoe to catch his lowerlip between her own, and touch his rugged face with her soothing hands. She then began to unload the content of her bag.

Erik watched her rummage furiously in her bag passively. He sat down again, his heart heavy, and his mind blurred. She quickly had returned to his side, holding a bundle of fresh clothes and bonds.

"Let me get this off…I need to look at your wound. Did they get the bullet out?"

"Yes…"

Christine began to help him out of his worn out shirt, ripping it at the cuffs to avoid tangling with the chains. She peeled back the scruffy looking bandages, dark with blood stains to see his ugly wound. She gritted her teeth and began to wipe it clean with a clean cloth. He growled every so often, yet did not cower from her touch. She finally bandaged the wound properly, and sat still.

"Thank you." He muttered. She said nothing in response. After a few minutes of silence, she moved over to him and rested her head on his chest, and closed her eyes. He sat patiently, looking down at her auburn crest of curls, and enjoying the soft feeling against his tortured body.

He gently swung his legs over onto the rest of the seat; bring Christine with him by putting his chained wrists over her head into an embrace. He lowered himself into a lying position, and let Christine lay across him.

What bliss it would have been in more pleasant times? And what a life he could have led if he was to have this every morning and night, every time he awoke and slept! Life was only going to allow him this through strife, and very little. It would do. This is how he would have chosen to live out the rest of his days. Erik supposed he was grateful. He drifted off into an uneasy slumber.

--

The arrival at Paris had taken much less time than the journey by boat. The only major stop they had was at Venice, and only that had meant a transfer of trains to France in the space of a few hours.

Christine had a million times considered stopping the train by the emergency stop handle, or reporting an accident that had not happened, or claiming to be frightfully ill and resulting in stopping the train. None of these ideas were ever put into practice, as they were thought out properly, none would have resulted in any major delay.

So the days drew even closer.

Christine sat near an open window in a small abode in the centre of Paris. It looked out onto the river, which was pleasing, but Christine saw none of it. Her features had turned dark and her eyes sallow and lifeless. She rarely spoke or ate, despite Nasih's temptings.

Only her short visits to Erik would ever give her reason to get up from her seat in Nasih's small hotel room.

It seemed the darkness that had once consumed Christine was threatening to take over once again. The deep darkness she had fell into when Erik had been dragged from her life before had begun to take a grip on her dieing soul. Her life had been ebbing away each day, each day that drew nearer to that day.

"It seems to be nothing wrong, or the cause of her declining health has nothing to do with illness. It seems only time and rest may help ease any discomfort Mademoiselle Daae is having."

Nasih sighed heavily. The 3 doctors he had sent for to examine Christine had all told him the same thing. There was nothing they could do. She was not physically sick. It was much worse than that. This time though, one did voice a difference.

"Depression is not something she needs right now." Said the underweight doctor, who looked solemnly at Nasih. There was no doubt this doctor knew about the whole story of the Phantom and his recent capture. No doubt he knew what role Christine played in the whole story too. "I cannot explain fully, as my patients confidentiality comes first, but I'm sire she can explain the seriousness of this situation if she sees fit. Don't put any more pressure on her though."

Nasih thanked the doctor for his time, and showed him out. More serious than what he saw everyday in Christine's eyes. No, this situation couldn't get any worse…could it?

Nasih entered Christine's room with a soft knock, only to see her state, weeping uncontrollably into the palms of her hands.

"Christine…what's happened?"