Disclaimer: Don't own Phantom.

Chapter Fourteen

XXX

"Where are we going?"

Erik and Christine had been on the stolen horse for at least an hour now, riding from Raoul's country chateau to Paris. Both were thankful that night had fallen while they'd still been outside of the city, as very few people were on the streets now. Those who were seemed unconcerned by the couple on the horse galloping past. The darkness shaded Erik's face well, and he also hid it against Christine's back as best he could.

"Don't worry, Erik. I know the perfect place to go. No one will find us."

He sighed, knowing he'd get no more information than that from her. Instead he looked around, taking in the darkened city.

Another half-hour went by, and then Christine reined in the horse and slid off of his back, stumbling a bit until she regained her footing on the ground. Erik hopped down as well, and followed Christine as she led the horse into a barn. They were before a huge, beautiful building, and he blinked a few times. What was this place?

Christine bedded down the horse, then turned to Erik and took his hands.

"The last thing I ever want to do is make you hide because of your face. But I think that now, it's the only thing you can do. At least until that ghastly circus leaves town."

He nodded in understanding, touching her cheek. "Where am I to hide?"

She gave him a slight smile and led him out of the barn and into a small door. They walked through a few winding passages, and then Christine opened a door and let him look inside.

There was a huge stage, and nearly a thousand seats that he could see.

"The… the Paris Opera…?" he breathed, and she smiled.

"Yes. There are five cellars below the opera house. During the wars they used the cellars as prisons, and tortured people there as well. I think we could find our way down and make somewhere for us both to stay, you a bit more permanently. The area is so spooky, and dirty and cold that no one ever goes in too far. It would be safe."

He nodded, trying to be in good spirits as much as he could in order not to upset Christine any further than he could see she already was. He was done being frightened, done letting her take care of him, it was high time he returned the favor and behaved like a man should.

"Shall we go, then?" he asked, offering his arm and hoping that the apprehension and fear he felt didn't show in his voice.

Christine gave a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as she led him to the cellar doors and brought him down, down, down…

XXX

A week had passed, and Christine had managed, with the help of Jean and a few other strong dancer friends, to move some of her furniture to the cellars of the opera under the cover of night. She and Erik had found a cavernous area far into the fifth cellar, past the deep underground lake, and this is where they'd decided to build their hideaway. They'd had to take a prop boat from the storage area just within the first cellar, and then Jean had made it "seaworthy" as he'd joked, but once they'd reached the other shore of the subterranean lake, the area was habitable enough.

They had hung curtains to mark different rooms through the area, there was a bed and dresser in one room, a wood stove in another, a desk and the beginnings of a music room as well…

Erik was hoping to get a piano, or even an organ soon, as he missed his music terribly (although he was aware that the logistics of getting such a large object not only into the cellars without being detected, let alone across the lake would be difficult to overcome).

Every night he would sing for Christine, and she would fall asleep. He longed to play a violin in the way he had in the dream he'd had before… play to her and lure her to his side, take her in his arms and make love to her…

But he knew that could not be. Not yet, and maybe not ever. After he'd failed to protect her, allowed her to be taken away and himself to be locked up once again, Erik wasn't sure he could ever forgive himself, let alone that Christine could ever put enough trust into him as a provider, as a man, in order to take him and his love for her seriously. After all, how could she?

XXX

"Erik, I'm back!"

Christine's voice rang out through the caverns. It was late in the evening, and she had just returned to the 'lair', as they'd begun to fondly call it, after a long day rehearsing with the corps.

Erik looked up from the papers on his desk and smiled, standing and moving toward her with his arms open.

"I'm glad. Come here, and show me how much you missed me." He teased, laughing as she jumped into his arms and kissed him sweetly on the nose.

Taking his hands, she led him to sit down on the small divan they'd bought, and she seated herself across from him.

"Erik, we've been so busy that we haven't had a chance to talk."

"About what?" He asked, tilting his head.

"About what happened that night. When you came for me. How did you escape?"

He shook his head, looking away and clenching his hands into fists.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Please, Erik. I'm just curious as to how you escaped after you'd been trapped there for over thirty years and never managed it-"

"No."

"Erik! You're being terribly unreasonable! I really think I deserve-"

"No!" he'd gotten to his feet and his eyes had went hard, just as dangerous as they'd been the night he'd nearly killed Raoul.

Christine squeaked, a hand to her throat as she scrambled back a bit.

"I refuse to talk about it. We will not talk about it. Not one more word about it." He hissed, his eyes down to slits and blackened with his rage.

Christine swallowed hard, before getting to her feet and grabbing his lapels in her hands.

"You've no right to speak to me like that!"

He looked as if he was going to shout again, before his face went white and he sunk to sit down on the divan again, his eyes closed. Christine quickly sat down beside him and touched his face, stroking the marred flesh, than smoothing his sparse hair.

"Please, Erik."

Breathing heavily, he nodded.

"I-I killed him. I killed Javert."