Authoress Notes: Well, I'm surprised I'm getting this one out so fast! As you can tell, for me it usually takes a month or two…or three… WELL, not this time! This is a big chapter, so I hope you can take it all in! ENJOY!

Disclaimer: I own nothing yadda yadda yadda. Leroux and ALW own it blah blah blah.

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Wishing You Were Somehow Near

Chapter Three: On His Side

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Two days later, Christine hurried down the ramp, her bags bouncing against her hip. She placed her feet on the flat cobblestones, which shimmered with moisture. She smiled and took a deep breath. It had rained yesterday, and unlike in London, French rain was a precious memory. In London, it always rained and the air smelled of rotting vegetation. But in Paris after a storm or even a light shower smelled fresh and clean.

She remembered almost a year ago when there had been a terrible storm. Still very much like a child, Christine had been frightened by the fierceness of it. As always, Erik came to her rescue. He led her down to the house and they sat for hours reading together. She recalled sitting at his feet as poetry fell from his lips like warm honey. After the storm had passed, Erik took a thick blanket and brought her to the roof of the Opera House. The rain had cleared away all of the clouds and smoke and when she looked up, Christine saw the sky scintillate with stars. Even the tiniest ones twinkled brightly in the deep velvety sky. Erik spread the blanket and the pair sat in each other's company. He draped his cloak over her shoulders and stroked her curling tresses as she listened intently to his voice telling the legendary stories of the constellations she pointed out. Her mind whirled with delight in the accounts of the gods and heroes in his tales.

Her green eyes welled up with tears. It was one of many innocently close moments they had together, but remembering how shabbily she'd treated him made her unbearably sad. Erik had been a perfect companion in every way, and she very nearly lost him to her foolishness and fear.

But soon that would all be behind her. A short carriage ride away was Paris and the kingdom of her dark angel.

Her soul filled with a joy she'd almost forgotten and she began to sing triumphantly. She danced down the streets, heedless of the strange looks she earned from the people she passed. She didn't stop as she hailed a carriage, letting her voice draw it near to the curb. Tossing her bags in with a jubilant crescendo, she snatched her cap from her head, letting her cascade of long soft curls tumble down. She jumped into the seat with a loud laugh, like she had never laughed before. Knocking on the panel, she handed the driver a purse.

"Paris please, the sooner the better!" She grinned, laughing again as she fell back against the upholstery.

The driver gave her a quizzical look, taking in her bruises and giving his head a rather sad shake. Christine thought she heard him mutter, "Poor child," but she didn't care. She was going home, and nothing could stop her.

Suddenly she became aware of how very light her left hand felt. She looked down at it. It was bare.

That didn't really surprise her. She'd left the ring in Raoul's house, in his room. She hadn't cared where it had landed. It could be sitting there in the middle of the floor trampled by his great clumsy housekeeper for all she knew. Only one ring was worthy of wearing, and that was the one she'd left with Erik the night she left. And soon it would grace her finger again. Christine grinned.

"Too bad Raoul. You should've kept a tighter leash on me."

With a great relieved sigh, she stretched her body along the seat and placed one of her bags under her head. The ride was bumpy, but she quickly felt her body becoming numb. She suddenly felt the weight and weariness of the past year melting off of her and the throbbing ebbed from her body. So, this is what freedom feels like, she thought as she sank into dreams of Erik's voice ringing through her heart.

--

"Miss…miss…Pardon me, miss!"

"Hmm?" Christine was startled from sleep and lifted her head to acknowledge the driver. "I'm sorry, what is it?"

"Sorry to disturb you mam'selle, but it seems one of the horses has a bad leg. It's been bothering him for a bit, so I thought we'd stop at the next village's livery and let him rest a bit."

Christine's shoulders drooped. It turned out that this day would not be as simple and easy as she had thought. "Well, this is certainly a nuisance," Christine muttered, but nodded to the driver that it would be best.

After they arrived at the livery, the driver discovered that the horse would need more than a little rest. They would have to buy a new one. Christine sat glumly on a stool, trying to tune out the men arguing over the best price for the horse She wished more than ever for her Czarina, but wishing would get her nowhere.

As she sat waiting, a thousand worries flooded her brain. Had Meg delivered the letter? Was Erik still waiting? Would her take her back? A shudder coursed through her; Had he given up on her? Her effervescent mood disappeared and was replaced by primal urgency.

Deciding she had suffered enough through hearing the men argue and bargain for the animal, she got to her feet and walked over to the bantering men.

"Excuse me," she said, not caring what they thought of her for interrupting, "How far is it to Paris?

"Well, we're a mile or to away from the Parisian outskirts. It won't take us long," The driver answered, glad to have his attention drawn from the unpleasant exchange he'd been having.

"M'sieur, thank you for getting me this far," said Christine with a polite smile, "But you may save your francs. I'm going to walk."

"What? No, never mam'selle. Who know what kind of ruffians there are in these parts! I could never in good conscience let you walk all the way to Paris," he protested, but Christine shook her head.

"It is taking much too long waiting, and I really have no time to lose," she answered. "You may keep your payment, and thank you again m'sieur."

This time the keeper thought he ought to say something. "Well, I have an old wagon I used to use to haul straw. It only needs one horse. It will definitely be safer than walking."

The driver of the carriage frowned, deciding this sounded like sales talk. "How much?"

"Twenty francs."

"What?! That's highway robbery! If you think-"

"Done," Christine said sharply, holding out the franc notes. Whatever she had to do to get to Paris, she would. There was to be no more dallying on this journey.

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This choice turned out to be one of discomfort. If only they'd had that carriage to ride in. That wagon bumped and jostled her in all the wrong places. But they'd gotten to Paris at last, and she forgot about her aches and pains. They passed the quaint shops bustling with shouting, scolding people and the tall elaborate houses along the Rues. Then at last there it was. The Cathedral Notre Dame.

"Let me off here please. I'd like to walk the rest of the way."

The driver nodded, deciding this time not to question the strange girl. The wagon rumbled to a stop and Christine got out, pulling her bags down with her. She paid him and waved as he rode off in a bit of a hurry. He probably thinks you're mad girl, she thought with a grin and looked up at the holy place. Tear pricked behind her eyes as she gazed up the length of its tall gothic towers, letting them traverse the enormous round rosette of stained glass, shimmering in the early sun. Retreating into her mind, she imagined her and Erik together in that great sanctuary, joining their lives as one.

A low, haunting note from one of the larger bells brought her back to the present. Yes, she would marry Erik. But first she had to get to him.

Just as she started off again, the mellow, pealing bells all struck into a glorious song, welcoming her back to fair Paris. This time, her tears fell unchecked from her smiling eyes.

"I'm home. I'm really home Erik! And I'm coming!"

"No you're not Christine."

Her blood chilled at the sound of the steely voice and she spun around. Pure rage made her blood hot again as she faced her oppressor.

"YOU!" She shouted at Raoul, who sat atop a tall horse, glaring down at her. "What are you doing here? Why are you following me?"

"Foolish girl, you think I'm an idiot? I knew you would come back to prostitute yourself to that demon. And as for following you, I've merely come to claim what's mine." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring she'd left. Christine sneered at him.

"I am not yours Raoul," she said as she turned to leave him.

The thunder of hoof beats clattered on the sidewalk as Raoul rounded his horse to block her path. "I think differently." He reached down and grabbed her hand, forcing the ring into it. Christine was struck dumb by his incredible stupidity. Did he really think he was accomplishing anything? "You will put that on, stop this foolishness and come home." He said it with such finality, as if he expected no argument.

Christine stared at the ring in her palm. The diamonds embedded in the fine gold twinkled and winked. It really was a fine looking piece of jewelry. She looked up at Raoul, a calm expression on her face. Then she stretched out her arm, holding her fist over the street. With a bitter smile, she opened her hand and let the ring fall into the gutter. It clinked softly and rolled away, falling at last into a sewer grate. Raoul gaped at her like a fish, earning another smile from his former intended.

"I'm going home," she said firmly and moved to go around the huge animal.

"NO!" Raoul yelled, reaching down to grab a fistful of her hair. The roots pulled painfully at the knot at the back of her head and she cried out. "Not to him you're not! Never!"

"Let go of me! Let go!" She screamed, dragging her nails down his arm. Raoul, ever weak, roared and let her go. Christine took her moment to run. She screamed again as the storm of horse's hooves on the cobblestones assailed her. Then there was a biting sting as Raoul brought the riding whip down upon her shoulderblades. She gasped in pain and fell, the fabric of her trousers giving way to stone. She felt her skin tear and cried out in anger more than pain.

"Get up!" Raoul ordered, walking his horse over to her while she struggled to rise. She moaned at the new pains joining the old. "Stop whimpering! You think I enjoy striking you? God, Christine I love you!"

"NO! You DON'T!" Her rage made her wounds scream in pain. "You have no idea what love is! Let me tell you something, I loved Erik long before you ever came back into my life! You lose! Now leave me be!" She turned on her heel and tried to run, but the long strap of the whip stopped her short. It coiled around her throat and tightened. She made a desperate choking noise and scrabbled at the lash with her nails, scoring her skin in the process.

Raoul jerked the whip, hard enough to pull her a few inches backwards. "You're coming if I have to drag you by your throat!" His voice cracked in mindless fury and he tugged the whip again.

A red haze overcame Christine. With a savage scream, she whipped out the dagger she had concealed and leapt at him, swiping the blade across his left arm. Blood jetted from the wound and spattered her pale face. He roared and released the whip. Uncoiling it from her neck, she cracked it on the already panicked horse's flank. The animal reared and whinnied loudly, throwing its rider to the ground. He fell, grasping his bleeding arm, mewling in pain. Christine ran, leaving him writhing in the street.

Time was a luxury she no longer had. She had to get to Erik now.

--

Down below the streets of Paris, Erik's gloved hand reached out to light the tall candelabras. Hazy haloes of light began to fill the underground house. He floated through every room repeating the gesture until the entire house was glowing softly with tiny flames.

It was a day like any other, and yet, something in the air felt different. A storm had passed the day before, but it was something else. He couldn't place it, but he felt the need to make sure everything was perfect.

Extinguishing the match he held, he made his way into Christine's room and turned the gas up. It was the same as ever. He had been very careful to leave everything undisturbed. Even the little clips and pins on her vanity lay as she had left them. With reverent steps, he went to the large cherry wardrobe. He opened the doors and was greeted with a rush of sweet fragrance. Jasmine. He smiled nostalgically; she always wore jasmine.

Quickly closing the doors so the fragrance wouldn't fade, he turned about, checking that everything was just right. Melissa paced between his feet, meowing loudly to get his attention. He smiled and scooped her up, scratching her tiny head lovingly.

"I hope you won't mind dear," he whispered as he exited the room, not bothering to lock it up. "We're going to have a houseguest someday, and you must share me with her." Melissa looked up at him quizzically and gave a disinterested mew. Erik laughed out loud. Sometimes it seems she could really understand him.

Sighing, he settled down on the sofa, placing Melissa on her cushion. She snuggled into the plush fabric and fell asleep very quickly, purring softly. Stifling a yawn, Erik finally realized just how little he'd been sleeping lately. He lay his head on the armrest and stretched out fully on the couch. Within minutes, he began drifting, Christine's lovely face filling his dreams.

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Christine fell panting onto the black shore. The cool moisture of the caverns clung to her hair and she shivered from cold and terror. She didn't know how far behind Raoul was, but she wasn't going to wait around to find out.

Finally catching her breath, she bent and drank deeply from the lake. The icy water hit her stomach like a kick in the gut, but she was too parched to care. Stripping off her thin shoes, she trailed her tired feet in the shallows. She splashed it over her face, immediately revitalizing her tired mind. The coldness of the water made her eye throb, but she got to her feet and went silently to the boat. The mist was thick, but she knew behind it lay her home and the waiting arms of her Erik.

"Christine!"

She gasped at the sound of his voice. A soft light invaded the darkness down the stone staircase. He was coming.

"No…no!" She moaned, struggling to push the boat from the shore. At last it dislodged from the mock pier and sway into the water. With a furious push, she began to move across the lake.

"Christine stop! Don't you go to him!" Raoul cried, splashing into the water until it reached his knees.

"GET AWAY!" She shrieked, swinging the long pole around. It cracked him in the ribs and he crumpled into the water with a grunt of pain.

Christine began to breathe heavily, desperately struggling to ferry herself across. She wasn't nearly as strong as Erik by far, but her frustration and fear enhanced her strength and she soon found herself halfway across. The mist began to clear and finally she saw the large house. She was going to make it!

The thunderclap of the pistol echoed a hundred fold in the cavernous cellars, mingling in awful harmony with Christine's terrified scream.

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Erik's head picked up, alert at once. Had he just heard that? It sounded vaguely like someone calling for Christine. It was so faint though, it had to be his mind playing tricks on him. Then he heard it again.

"Christine stop! Don't you go to him!"

Never in his life could Erik ever forget who owned that insufferable voice. The detestable sound had forever been branded into his brain. The boy had come. But if he was here, calling for Christine…

"GET AWAY!"

Christine! She was here! She'd come at last. His elation was dampened only by the terror in her voice. The boy was after her, trying to keep her from him. Erik ran to his room and grabbed his dagger and a pistol. If that boy interfered again, Erik would not hesitate in killing him.

Then, there was a tremendous noise that shook the very stones around them in its repercussions. Melissa leapt from the sofa, screeching like she'd been scalded. The sound was immediately followed by the most terrible screaming.

"Oh God…CHRISTINE!" he cried, racing towards the gate. Not watching where he was going, his foot snagged on part of the rug and he fell. A slice of pain licked through his side and he uttered a startled oath. He checked; damn fool he was he'd fallen on his own knife. But it was minor, and it was not the time to worry about it. The boy had fired his pistol and he had to make sure Christine was safe.

"If you value your soul boy, you'd better pray you didn't hit her!"

--

Christine teetered unsteadily in the boat, which now sported a very large hole. Water invaded the wooden floor. She tried to steady herself but the boat would sink no matter what she did.

"You bloody bastard! You could've killed me!" She screamed, half mad with rage.

"Last chance Christine! You'll drown unless you come back!"

"Not a chance in Hell!" She shouted and leapt into the water, letting the useless craft sink. The frigid water racked her body with pain and she cried out. Drawing a deep breath to clear her head, she began swimming frantically towards the house. She vaguely heard Raoul cursing as he too plunged into the water. Christine could feel herself growing weaker under the slashing cold pain, but at last she could see the gate, the rocky shore. Her bare feet touched land and she launched herself upon the shore. Gasping for air, she pounded wildly at the wrought-iron bars.

"ERIK! ERIK! HELP ME! LET ME IN! ERIK!!" She grabbed the bars and shook them violently. She screamed louder and louder until she felt she could stand no more. She barely heard the creak of the gate as she pitch forward and into her angel's arms.

Erik gasped as she fainted in his arms. She was soaked to the bone and freezing and he almost wept when he touched her. A shouted curse emanated from the lake and Erik looked up amused. The viscount was hardly the swimmer and Erik leered as he aimed his pistol. The bullet sliced cleanly through the boy's right shoulder. He yelled in pain and scrambled back to the shore. There he stood, shaking his fist as if he considered himself a threat. Erik grimaced and leveled the gun again. A deafening crack ripped through the cold air and Raoul fell with a cry. He didn't move.

Christine groaned and opened her eyes. Towering over her was the most welcome sight she could have wished for; her Erik. She smiled shakily at him before her body gave in to the intense pain and she passed out. Erik forgot the gun and the boy and swept her into his arms. The gate clanged shut as he brought his poor love back into their home.

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THERE! Chapter 4 is finished! Didja like it? Didja didja didja? Hope so! Chapter 5 will be out soon, so in the meantime, R&R!!!