A/N - Thanks for your faithful reading, dear reviewers.
A few notes on this chapter.
If Erik and Christine seem to reference a few things that don't make sense, just glean what you can from it and try to accept it. I am doing a careful dance about myself here.. They are referring to a history created together in my other fanfic (Enigmatic Darkness) which I have not yet posted. It needs a bit of revision and proofreading, and also I don't want to post more than one incomplete story at a time. So at any rate, I am having to type very carefully so that I do not give away all of the secrets of the other just in case you guys choose to read it. I am trying to make it all as clear as I can despite that, however!
Welcome aboard Cassio. I agree that Erik is mad, literally. Poor guy, been living all alone in something akin to a dungeon for eighteen years. (That's not even mentioning the time before that, during Poto as we know it.) I hope that his lust for Elizabeth doesn't gross you out too much. Try to realize that it is really not personal at all, and not so much a sexual lust as just physical. He hasn't had conversation in as many years! Can you imagine how soft her hair must seem, to him? He's terribly lonely, and while he is quite the buffoon and likes to torture her with innuendo, I assure you if there was any sexual attraction it would only be because of her resembelance to Christine. He's a pitiful wretch who sees Elizabeth much like a pet. And what does one do with a pretty kitty except pet it?
All will work out in due time!
I do want to warn you guys, while I can be quite angsty - this will probably have a happy ending. Does anyone mind?
Christine gasped, attempting to sit up. The movement only brought a searing pain into her flesh and made her cry out, falling back again.
"I thought he was dead," she managed through the hissing that was her current breathing.
Erik shook his head in disdain. "No. He was, but your little flower revived him somehow. He would have died from the cold, then. But we.. bartered, Elizabeth and I."
Christine found herself uncomfortable with the raw malice that had crept across Erik's features. It had been almost two decades since she had seen this man, once her angel, and things had obviously changed.
Erik was currently staring off towards the sound of the voice, waiting for the girl who would no doubt scurry to his side to appear again. It all made him feel a bit ill, really. He had severely restricted her actions around him, but still the adoration Elizabeth felt for Nicholas seeped through and served to remind Erik that he would never have such a love. Christine could not read any of the emotions displayed, as the cool white mask was all that was exposed to her of his face. She could see the tremble in his hands, however, as they turned to fists.
Elizabeth finally appeared, obviously quite flustered. She glanced toward the entry to Nicholas' room, and then to Erik. Christine recoiled at the words that seemed to flow easily from her daughter.
"Master, may I?"
Erik consented with a nod, and as soon as Elizabeth had disappeared he turned toward Christine with a growl.
"You must be terribly upset," Christine murmured softly - reaching to touch Erik's hand. He jerked his hand away from her touch as though she were a flame, and canted his head aside. In a mocking tone, he spoke.
"Whatever do you mean? Eighteen years of solitude and suddenly my house is full! What more could a demon want?" The pain in his voice was cleverly hidden amongst the sarcasm and spite.
"About the boy, I mean.. He must have.. I mean.. I am sorry, Erik. I should have told you sooner. I did not know what had become of him, and I did not know if you would even want to know. I did not know if you would even see me again, after..." Christine's voice trembled, and Erik found her insecurity infuriating. Once her delicacy and innocence had been one of the most appealing things about her, but in his current state of mind it only made her seem weak.
"What are you prattling on about, woman?" He retorted, resuming his fervent pacing. It did not seem to have the same effect on mother as on daughter.
"Nicholas," Christine said tiredly. "Surely he told you that he's your son.." Somewhere in the midst of her sentence Christine realized that Erik did not, in fact, know this.
The ghost, quite accustomed to control in nearly every situation, blanched. His eyes widened and he immediately glanced towards the path Elizabeth had trod. Could it be?
"Preposterous!" He scowled, casting a fierce look to Christine. "You would be so cruel, Christine, to laden me with lies?"
Christine felt crystalline tears pool in her eyes as she thought of their tangled past, and the events that had transpired just before their last meeting.
"Have you seen his face?" She goaded softly.
"I am not the only abomination on this planet, I am sure.."Erik reasoned.
"He looks like her," Christine added softly, hoping her soft tone would cool the flame of anger in the man opposite her.
Erik suddenly raged, drawing his hand back to strike Christine. Elizabeth had already felt the weight of his blow, what difference would it be to deal the same fate to Christine?
"Do not speak of her!"
His hand stalled before it could progress toward it's trajectory. Erik was now panting in his anger, and spun about on his heel. He felt as though the cool air in his dank cellars would suffocate him. The walls of the cavern seemed to be closing in. His mind had been left to it's own madness for too many years, and now the sudden influx of humanity threatened his sanity. He had to escape them, to leave them all behind.
Christine watched the agony in Erik's face. She could scarcely move, much less do little to comfort or console him (not that she really expected he would accept it). He had the expression of a wild and wounded animal. Madness flashed in his eyes. Christine felt a deep fear of him, that she had never experienced before. Her emotions found voice in a soft sort of whimper. "Erik!"
The cry that pierced his tormented mind toppled it all. Erik released a sound not unlike a wail, and then clamored away from the wounded Christine. He did not look back again, before he disappeared into the darkness from which all three of his visitors, by one path or another, had come.
Their own voices were enough to temporarily block out the discussion that was obviously becoming heated in the other room.
"My mother is his whore, I believe.." Elizabeth said smartly, even as she sponged Nicholas' bare chest with a cool cloth. The chill had finally released him, but now his body blazed with fever. It had just set in, and Nicholas was still quite coherent. He captured her small hand and pressed it to his lips. They felt like fire as they pressed into her palm. Elizabeth managed a smile.
"No, I do not mean that.." she continued her thoughts. "But I do think she loved him. Oh, how complicated can this all be, Nicholas? The man I love was fathered by a beast who tormented both of my parents, nearly killed him, and would keep me as a slave."
Elizabeth, noticing her startling admission, blushed furiously and averted her gaze. Nicholas simply stared at her in silence for a long moment, his mind racing. Could such an angel really love a deformed man such as himself? Even after seeing what madness may run in his veins? He could sense her embarrassment and felt the need to comfort her primarily.
"Oh, sweet Beth. If life were only like it is in those books you enjoy so much. We would already own a mansion, you and I, and we would travel the world - seeing every strange sight your pretty little heart could fathom."
When he made no mention of her overzealous words, Elizabeth smiled demurely at him. She opened her mouth to speak.
"Do not speak of her!"
The words were fierce and threatening, and echoed about in the tiny room they were situated in. Elizabeth grimaced.
"Perhaps I should check on her," she murmured absently, obviously not so inclined to face such anger from the beast. Nicholas caught her tiny fingertips.
"After my fever breaks, Elizabeth, my strength will recover." The words were beginning to run together, his speech failing as the fever began to invade his mind. "I will take us from here, from him... I promise.."
A slur of incoherent speech followed, and Elizabeth continued her faithful ministrations. She had no doubt that the fever would run it's course and, if properly tended to, Nicholas would be fine. His eyes finally closed, and Elizabeth allowed herself to gaze openly at him for a long moment. She could see a remarkable resemblance between him and Erik. Nicholas' skin was tinted more darkly, which Elizabeth explained easily by his mother's heritage as relayed by her own mother. The features, however, were quite similar. Elizabeth assumed that marring such as was on Nicholas' face was hidden beneath the mask her captor always seemed to wear. Though she had not seen them stand toe to toe, they seemed to be of the same height and stature. If there were any major differences, Elizabeth would speculate that Nicholas was thicker than Erik. Nicholas worked day in and day out, hard physical labor. If his lair were to provide any clues, it seemed Erik did little but dote upon his music and brood. He was quite slim, as opposed to the sinewy muscle that made Elizabeth feel so protected within Nicholas' arms.
Elizabeth sighed, breaking herself from her reverie. He would sleep now, and so she stood - deciding it was indeed time to face the two outside. Just as she stepped back into the main caverns, a animalistic wail pierced her ears and made her cringe, covering them protectively.
Erik disappeared like a wraith into the darkness, and Christine stared after him in.. longing?
"Mama!"