And another. Enjoy.

Chapter 10

Six months later, Christine rode in her carriage to the Opera Populaire, a baggy cloak around her pregnant form. As she gazed out at the stormy night, she thought of him. Of Erik. She hadn't been to see him since her last visit, when she was only two months pregnant. It had been too risky to go out in public after her third month of carrying the baby, so she had not. She had sent him letters though, as short as they were, they still counted as something. They had told him that she was alright, as alright as she could be. They had told him about her growing belly; about the baby's movements. About her cravings… Anything she could think of. She didn't know if he had wanted to hear from her, but it didn't really matter. At least she could tell it to someone.

The servants had found out she was with child a little while into the pregnancy; she knew that they sensed it wasn't Raoul's, though they said nothing. She had about one month left before she was to give birth, and it was scaring her to death. She didn't have a crib… she didn't have anything. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She did have some cloth diapers and a baby blanket…but that was all. She wasn't sure of the reason she was going to Erik that night…she just felt that she needed to see him, for some odd reason.

Before long, the carriage had taken her into the city; they were now in front of the opera house. Christine stepped out into the bitterly cold December air, careful not to slip on the wet, stone street. She muttered a 'thank you' to the cabby, before making her way through the passageways she had come to know so well, and to the lake. Thankfully, a gondola was waiting for her there. She boarded the small boat, and smiled as she felt her child move within her. The resentment she had felt towards the baby had faded months ago. With difficulty, she began to row.

Erik's eyes fell on the pile of letters from Christine which were accumulating on his bed side table. He'd read them over and over again, more times than he would ever admit. She appeared to be doing fine, as was the child. With only one month left until she was to give birth, Erik could no longer ignore the unanswered questions concerning the child; such as if he would ever see it, and would it ever know of its true father. These were difficult questions, but he knew that they must be answered. Although the letters had brought him a significant amount of comfort, he missed her desperately, and wondered whether he would see her before the birth or not.

He lie on his bed silently, thinking of her last visit, when he'd held her in his arms, until, suddenly, he heard the approach of the gondola. Quickly, he rose from his bed and ran to greet her (as he knew it was she).

As she reached the shore, she was overcome by emotion at the sight of him... She wasn't sure the reason why. She made to step out of the gondola. Quickly, he rushed to her side to assist her. "Christine," he said happily, but uncertainly.

"Erik... I'm sorry... I'm sorry I didn't come sooner..."

"I forgive you. Really, I was beginning to believe that you would not come at all."

"Of course I was going to come..."

He looked at her and smiled, saying nothing.

She smiled back, taking off her cloak and setting it in the gondola. Without the cloak hiding her, she was visibly pregnant, her large stomach not matching her tiny form.

"You must be wondering why I'm here..." she gave a small laugh, "I'm not really sure my self... I just needed to see you, I guess." He was surprised at this.

"It is nice to be needed," he said quietly.

"Did you get my letters?"

"Yes, I did. Thank you for thinking of me. I appreciated them."

She smiled at him, tucking a curl behind her ear, and placing a hand on her stomach as the baby kicked. "You are welcome..."

"Christine, about the child, and the vicomte... Where is it to live? Are you truly not going to tell the vicomte?" he asked seriously.

Her smile faded... She had been putting off thinking of anything of that sort; she knew she would have to decide sooner or later, but whenever the thought had entered her mind, she had pushed it away. She always told herself that she would think about it tomorrow, and when tomorrow finally came, she put it off to the next day. Christine realized that the day she would have to think about it had finally come, as Erik gazed expectantly at her. She couldn't find her voice. All she could do was look down at her pregnant stomach... She felt horrible; as if she was going to be sick. She cleared her throat. "I... I don't know," Christine whispered.

"I see. As difficult as it may be, these questions must be answered," he said patiently. "As much as you would like to, we cannot simply ignore them... I agree that it is best that the vicomte does not know of it at all, if you wish for him to still see you as his pure wife and love you wholly. Also, I believe you've a right to know that I am contemplating moving into a normal home."

"Erik... What do you want? As far as the baby goes, I mean..."

"What do I want?" he repeated. "That depends on if you want an unexplained child in your and the vicomte's home or not. If you do not, I shall take it. It could live comfortably with me in my future home... I would hire a nurse to take care of it. You could visit it, if you should wish to."

Christine closed her eyes, blinking back tears. She had been crying a lot lately; she blamed it on the hormones, though she knew there were other reasons.

"Why does it have to be like this? So... complicated?"

"I suppose because we made a choice that was obviously not a wise one. Under circumstances such as ours, I don't believe that anything is simple." He fell silent.

"Circumstances have never been simple... I don't regret it, you know."

"You do not regret what we did that night, or you do not regret being with child?" he asked quietly.

"I don't regret either one."

"Truly?" he asked, disbelievingly. "You'd led me to believe differently. Though I'm glad you feel that way; regret is not a favorable thing to have in one's life."

"I regret too many things to regret on something that could turn out so beautifully..." she swallowed hard; merely seeing him had stirred up too many emotions to handle at one time.

He stared at her a moment before speaking. "I do hope it turns out as you wish, though I'm not sure how it will myself. I'd hoped that it would all be fine..." He had not meant to tell her this; he rarely told others such things. "But one can never say," he continued. "Not until it is over," he finished. She looked up at him. Unable to speak, once again. He had a way of doing that to her... Leaving her speechless.

"Would that be fine by you?" he asked finally.

Christine had been lost in her thoughts; she hadn't really heard him. "Would what be?"

"If the child lived with me. I do not want to pressure you, but I would not mind, and I can not imagine how it living with you would work out with everyone happy."

"I don't think there's a way for everyone to be completely happy..." she said sadly, "but I think that it would be best for the child... And for everyone else. I cannot be selfish about something as important as this..."

"Right. I suppose I'd best being looking for a suitable place then... Purchasing furniture, finding help, and the like..."

"Yes."

Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen; she drew a quick breath. Not wanting to jump to conclusions at what the pain might indicate, she said nothing.

"What is it?"

"Oh, it's nothing, just..." she started, but couldn't finish because another pain came, more painful than the first. She clutched her pregnant stomach, letting out a small groan.

"It's just what?" he asked, more alarmed.

"I don't know...it's too early for it to be what it feels like, right?" she asked, her voice filled with worry.

"In most cases, but it is possible that it is happening now," he said, breaking into a panic, which he quickly hid.

"But... But it's too early!" Another came; she doubled over in pain. "Damn it! Why are they coming so fast... They aren't supposed to be coming this fast!"

"As I said, in some cases they do. You had best lie down," he said coolly, taking her hand in his and leading her to the bedroom.

"You don't know anything about this... Do you?" Christine asked nervously as she laid down on the bed.

"No," he admitted slowly.

"How can you be so calm?" she asked, the last words coming out louder than she had meant them to, as another burst of pain shot through her.

"I really don't know," he said absently. "How long does this go on?" He hated sounding so ignorant, but it was better for him to ask questions and possibly learn the answers, than to be completely lost when the moment finally came.

She ran her fingers through her hair. "I don't know... It can vary... I need to push when you see the baby's head but... It could take many hours."

"And what do I need to do?"

"You need..." she rested her head in her hands as she thought, trying to concentrate. "you need a blanket, and a sterile knife, and... And... hot water and... Towels. Oh, God," she gripped the blanket tightly as a pain came, "This isn't supposed to be happening now!" she said, failing to keep her voice calm; her words came out as a scream.

He nodded and, as a last thought, quickly kissed her hand before departing to gather the materials. He didn't know why he had done that so suddenly, but it just seemed to fit. He hated to see her in such pain.

Christine was surprised by the sudden act of endearment, but it was a pleasant surprise, and somehow it made the pain easier to bear. She threw her head back against the pillows, trying to get as comfortable as she could, but that proved to be impossible, as the baby would not stop moving. She was more worried now than ever; all she cared about was keeping the baby inside of her for as long as possible before pushing it out into the world... She knew it had not been in her womb long enough and the thought that it might be underdeveloped frightened her more than anything ever had in her life.

Erik returned with the necessary materials and set them down on the bed next to her. "I have everything," he said, as much to himself as to her. "This could go on for hours?"

She nodded, "some last up to 24..."

"I'm sorry," he said absently. He could only imagine how much pain she was in. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"Can you... hold my hand?" He was slightly shocked, but quickly complied, taking one of her small hands in both of his.

"I feel like it's my fault... I don't know if..." she trailed off, not wanting to say what horrible thoughts she was thinking, "something happens."

"Something?"

"If... If I give birth and the baby isn't ready."

"Even if that does happens, it would not be your fault. Some things cannot be controlled." He looked down at her hand encased in his, and began to stroke the back of it with his thumb.

"I feel so guilty now..." Christine felt tears she had become so familiar with begin to fall silently down her cheeks. He longed to kiss her and make the tears stop. But instead, he asked, "Guilty because of your husband?"

"Guilty because I regretted the baby in the beginning... I didn't want it... I'm sorry..."

"Do not apologize. You were not expected it; neither of us were. All I need you to do now is try your hardest; just focus, when the time comes. Tell me if it hurts, do whatever you must to make it easier."

Christine looked into his eyes; she couldn't stop herself. She leaned in and kissed him, bringing her free hand to his cheek. Erik had never been more shocked in his life, or more pleased at the same time. He kissed her lips ardently, but softly, squeezing her hand gently.

She had never experienced something more meaningful in her whole life, but had to break the kiss too soon as another contraction racked her body. She pulled away and squeezed her eyes shut, gripping his hand tightly.

He gazed at her, in a slight daze, as she screamed in pain. He wished there was something he could do, but he knew that there was nothing, except for him to simply be there. He glanced down at his hand, which was turning white with the intense pressure from Christine. Strangely, he did not feel the pain.

"I'm so sorry, Christine." He was not only apologizing for her pain... He was not sure what he was apologizing for. He supposed all the wrong things he'd ever done to her in the past.

As the contraction slowed, she took deep, even breaths; she opened her eyes. "What for?"

"Everything, I suppose. For being so contemptuous to you, for putting you in this situation, for lying to you, and stealing away your innocence..." He looked away. He was being honest. He loved her, and had never wanted to hurt her. He had just never known how to express it.

"Erik," she said, her voice soft and comforting. Christine put her hand on his cheek once more, turning his head so he was looking at her, "Erik... I'm fine... You don't need to apologize. I'm alright now..." I'm in love with you, her mind kept urging herself to say. It was surprising to her, to say the least, that she was thinking such thoughts. She wasn't sure when that had happened... When had she turned from the cynical women who would never be happy to this woman? Christine knew she would never figure it out, but somewhere along the way it had happened. He kissed her hand softly.

"Thank you," he whispered.

She smiled softly, gazing into his eyes. Suddenly, she felt wet. She let go of his hand and rose from the bed, alarmed. A puddle of clear liquid was forming on the floor beneath her. Christine covered her face with her hands, feeling helpless. Erik paled slightly, in spite of himself.

"What does that mean, dearest?" he asked, his tone slightly panicked. She peaked out from beneath her hands. "It means that this baby is definitely coming... Tonight, or at least in the morning... I don't know when." He nodded, taking a deep breath.

"We cannot ignore it any longer; it is truly happening," he said thoughtfully.

"You need to take off my dress." Christine would have laughed at the look on his face, if she hadn't been so filled with worry. "It's soaked," she clarified, "I need you to unbutton it."

He nodded, and after she turned on her side, he unbuttoned the back of the dress and helped her out of it, tossing the damp garment onto the ground. He moved his hands to her tense shoulders, massaging them for a moment before helping her turn back onto her back and resuming his position (kneeling by the bed). She held out her hand once again for him to take, feeling another contraction wash over her; she bit her lip. He took her trembling hand in his own, while he prepared himself for the birth, mentally, physically, and emotionally.

"I know this is hard for you," she said, her voice shaking as the contraction began to die down.

"Hard for me?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes, hard for you. You have to deliver it."

"If it is difficult for me, it is twice as difficult for you. Are you quite sure there is nothing else I can do?"

Christine shook her head. "If there was, I wouldn't know... I am no doctor..." He nodded and fell silent. He longed to do something more, but she had confirmed that there was nothing else to do, except wait.

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