A/N: Modesty, thank you for the reviews.

Ahomelesspirate: Thank you for the reviews… I'm hoping that I can tie this together the way I have planned…

Any character I have mentioned so far will be an integral part of the future story. All of them.

'I've made a commitment
I'm willing to bleed for you
I needed fulfillment
I found what I need in you

Why can't you just forgive me
I don't want to relive all the mistakes I've made along the way
But I always find a way to keep you right here waiting
I always find the words to say to keep you right here waiting' – Right Here -Staind

Chapter 35- Realisations

Erik wandered back to the house missing all of the beauty around him as he often did when he was thinking. Erik was a man not blind to beauty but he was one who rarely dwelled on it although he was a man with the ability to notice it in the strangest of places. He often saw it when no one else did.

His mind was spinning from his meeting with Emily only a couple of hours earlier. He had been, and still was, astounded at her trusting nature and wondered to himself if this should worry him.

It did.

But not enough that he wouldn't see her tomorrow, the intrigue for a man of Erik's intelligence was simply too much. He wanted to know why she was so alluring to him, what it was about her that made him want to speak to her, divulge information to her. He ran his hand through his hair as he stepped to the door and pushed it open slowly.

Yes, something about Emily both worried him and intrigued him. The initial concern in his mind was that she was there. Whenever he had walked in the area, even when he had ventured over the hill, there was no one to be seen. Her home was a couple of miles away, it seemed quite a distance for a young woman with only a dog to protect her, particularly considering she was blind.

Secondly, it was her nature which concerned him. She had spoken to him so easily, so readily taken him up on his offer to walk her back to her house.

Which was another inconsistency.

The house was surprisingly large. She had given the impression that she was poor, no money. Her look, her tone and her clothes gave that impression. Perhaps Erik had been hasty in his assumptions but he rarely made judgements for which he could not account reasons. He wandered into the living area and glanced at the burning fire, low on the logs, keeping the room just warm enough.

It was at that moment that the sound filled his ears, the soft delicate sound playing with his senses. He turned and walked towards it, out through into the corridor near to the bedroom, he followed it to the door at the back of the house, which was open just slightly. The sound was getting louder and finally, as he pushed the door open, he knew what it was.

In the garden sat Christine on a stool, covered in a heavy shawl. In her hands was an item of his clothing, soaking wet and steaming. She was cleaning his clothes.

Not only was she cleaning his clothes but she was humming.

He listened for a second as he realised that she hadn't noticed him standing there. He watched her as she concentrated, rubbing a lotion into the shirt and dipping it into the hot water. She dragged it back out, rung it through and hung it on a rail next to her. She hummed softly.

So softly.

Her gentle hands lifted another shirt, placed it in the water and moving it around, adding lotion, rubbing, back in the water. Slowly, then quickly, so focused but sounding so content.

'Christine,' he said, stepping forward. She jumped a little and then her cheeks flushed bright red, she lifted a wet hand to cover one. Was she embarrassed?

'I didn't hear you,' she said, looking up at him. He nodded.

'How long have you been out here?' he asked and she frowned.

'I don't know,'

'Too long,' he said, walking to her and holding out his hand for her to take. When she did he eased her to her feet and steadied her, starting to walk, guiding her back into the house. 'It's going cold again.'

'I hadn't noticed,' she said quietly. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

'Well it is,' he said. 'And you shouldn't be working yet.'

'I don't mind, I…' she said but he stopped her.

'I realise you don't mind but that's hardly the point,' He said firmly. 'You need to get well, you need to rest. I don't think you understand just how ill you were. You could have died.'

She looked up at him as he clicked the back door closed behind them. Her eyes drifted over his face, how did he look so different today? He placed his hand on the base of her back and gently nudged her along the corridor and back into the living quarters where he proceeded to throw logs onto the fire.

'Where have you been?' she asked, watching him. He could feel her eyes on his as he knelt by the fire, prodding it and made it flare again. It reminded him of Christine. The way it could be so low yet still simmering, the way it's colour could burst out and hit him. He turned to look at her.

'I was walking,' he said. She stared.

'Who was the girl?' she asked. This time he stared.

'I'm not sure,' he said, honestly. He really wasn't sure.

'You walked away with her,' she said, no accusations. He wasn't sure what it was.

'I know,' he said. 'She said her name was Emily. I walked her home.' He looked at her. 'I didn't know you were up.'

'I had just gotten up as she walked over the hill and out of my sight,' she said. 'Do you mean you only just met her?'

'Yes,' he said simply. She frowned and then burst into a grin. 'What?' he asked, confused.

'Do you know what you did?' she asked.

'No,'

'You were almost sociable,' she said, her smile bright. He shook his head as he stood and walked over to the kitchen area where he poured her a large cup of water.

'No,' he said cautiously. 'Her dog ran into me and I walked her back to her home.' He said and then added, 'She's blind.'

'Really?' said Christine, feeling a tingle of something unfamiliar in her stomach.

'Why are you asking so many questions?' he snapped, staring at her as he handed her the water.

'Because I don't know you,' she said quietly, 'Not the new you anyway.'

'There is no new me,' he said simply and turned his back to her, walking towards the door.

'Yes, there is,' she said, watching him.

'I am still the same man you were around before,' he said, half to himself and half to her. 'It was the old me you didn't know.'