Disclaimer: Nu uh, not mine.

A/N: If your wondering about the whole rosemary and cross thing, well, I just like putting recurring themes in, kinda a strange little twist (OK I've been watching too much Lost).

"So," Louise settled herself across from Erik, hands wrapped around a mug of tea. "Who was she?" Erik stared at her,

"Who?"

"Christine," Erik's spoon dropped from his fingers with a clatter, splashing porridge onto the table, Louse picked it up and returned it to his nerveless grasp.

"How do you know that name?" he asked hoarsely, she shrugged and took a sip of her tea, grey eyes regarding him compassionately,

"You babbled an awful lot when the fever took you," she told him, "You kept crying out, "Angel, or Christine" most of the time," she took another sip and looked pointedly at his untouched breakfast, reminding him with her eyes that he needed to eat. "Sometimes I even heard you sing."

Erik was startled, and for the second time, he spilt hot gruel onto the table. Louise sighed and got up to retrieve a cloth from the sink.

"If you don't want to tell me, you don't need to," she said, wiping down the polished wood, "But a trauma that had you running through the ditch by the side of Cleary's Bend is something that cant be bottled up forever."

Erik finally found his appetite, and started in on his breakfast, "Christine was...she was my world," he said finally, "She kept me alive," he gripped his spoon tightly, "And she left with that fop!" the metal spoon snapped in his fingers, one piece flying across the room and out the window. Louise stared at the spoon head, buried snapped end first in a row of window boxes, then slowly turned to look at Erik, "I see."

"No you don't!" Erik cried, pushing his now empty bowl away, Louise watched in concern as his voice roughened and he buried his head in his arms on the table, "My face...my mask...she couldn't take what she saw in front of her, I lied, said I was her Angel of Music, sent from heaven to teach her to sing!"

"Love makes people do strange things," Louise said softly, coming around the table to lay one rosemary hand on his shoulder.

"Then why did she leave?" Erik turned his face towards her, begging for an answer, in turn, Louise knelt and wrapped her arms around him like he was a small child,

"Perhaps it wasn't because she didn't love you, but because her love was a different kind to yours, it sounds to ma as if she loved you as a father, more than a lover." She looked at him carefully, noting his torn and heartbroken face. "Lovers aren't always what we dream of, and there is more than one type of relationship in the world." Erik slowly stopped shaking, and returned her gaze thoughtfully.

"Thankyou mademoiselle," he said heavily, "You have given me much to think about."

"Your welcome," she smiled, Erik smiled back he could count on one hand the number of times he had truly smiled like that, yet it was surprising how easily his distorted muscles relaxed into the unfamiliar expression.

"I pray you mademoiselle, I promise I shall not intrude upon your good hospitality for much longer, come tomorrow I shall leave you to your life."

"Oh no you don't" Louise retorted, standing, "You have at least a month before I'm prepared to let you go anywhere unaccompanied, let alone travelling the way you were before."

"I very much doubt, Mademoiselle Louise, that you would be able to stop me," Erik half joked.

"Watch me." She shot back. Then, in a moment of absolute clarity, they looked at one another and began to laugh.

That evening, Louise took out the stitches in Erik's leg. He sat slumped in a chair, wincing each time she pulled the cotton from his nearly healed wound with a quick Snip Twist of her scissors.

"Oh stop being such a baby," Louise rolled her eyes. Erik glared at her with indignation,

"It hurts," he stated. If Louise had been born in this century she would have replied "Well duh" instead she looked up at him with amusement.

"Erik, your acting like a fop having his precious hair cut." She smiled, Erik shut up.