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True to his word, Erik got them to the small village just as the moon was really starting to shine bright. This hotel was much more crowded than the other, much to Erik's dismay. They were set up in two rooms once again, this time right next to each other. Supper was eaten, food was put away to later be stored in the saddlebags, and once again they crawled into their separate hotel beds.
But just because the night went soundly, it didn't mean their departure would...
Erik, being the light sleeper that he was, awoke at the sound of the downstairs main door being pounded upon, faintly heard through his floorboards.
Lighting a candle, he pulled out his pocketwatch and saw that it was three-thirty in the morning. Who would possibly be coming into a crowded, filled hotel at this time of the night?
But Erik found it impossible to fall back to sleep, now that his curiosity was aroused. He carefully opened his heavy wooden door and crept silently out; his years as being an Opera Ghost finally paying off - sneaking around without any one noticing just happened to be his specialty.
Down the first few steps he walked, managing to miss every creak. He went down just enough to be able to peek down and listen to what was said.
"Please go away - we are full!" The hotel owner yelled through the door.
"Police - open up, sir."
The door swung open as Erik's heart launched into his throat. Yet his feet refused to move.
"What's wrong, good sirs? I assure you, there is nothing ill going on here."
"It is not your hotel in question. It's your boarders."
"My boarders? Whom?"
"Christine Daae is the woman; Erik Destler is the man. The two are very hard to miss. Christine Daae worked at the Opera Populaire, an Opera singer. Long, curly brunette hair; brown eyes. Not too tall, very beautiful. We have but a sketching of her, here. The man is more easier to spot - tall, dark haired...a white mask covers the side of his face. The woman may look frightened, perhaps forced to be with the man. We are not sure what is going on, but it's of strong suspicion he has her captive."
Erik laughed. Of course he captured her - how could anyone believe that he was actually capable of loving; of being loved in return? After all...how long had he believed the same?
Erik stood up again, regaining the use of his legs. He quietly ran up the steps and down the hall, knocking as hard but as quiet as possible, hoping beyond hope that Christine would awake. Why hadn't he kept her key?
Christine did answer, but was utterly confused in her half awakened state when he grabbed her and threw her back inside the room.
"Get your shoes on - now! Hurry, Christine!" He said as she gaped at him.
"But why? It is still night!"
"Officers, a flood of them, stand right below your feet. They know we are near here - they're checking the rooms; so I heard when I was trying to awake you."
Once her shoes were on, he shoved open the window and climbed out, helping her out as well. Thankfully, they were surrounded by trees to guide them to the ground from the second floor, and in the back of the hotel to help them escape. They ran to the stables just as the police started to run all over the hotel in pursuit. Saddling the horse and riding off at a slow walk, the two made their way into the distant woods. Once out of earshot, they started a full gallop, running at a breakneck speed; Erik always picturing the police in his mind, fearing what he'd have to do if they caught up with him. This only made him kick the horse harder.
As he rode hard, Erik kept glancing down at Christine. He hadn't explained what he heard; instead, tried to forget it. But she didn't. Just forcing her out suddenly seemed to have scared her to death. He could see it from everything she did - her wide brown eyes, full of worry and fret. Her ridged body refusing to relax against his and the horse's, making the ride all the more unbearable. The way she breathed so shallowly. The way her hands clenched into fists, then released to nervously pick over and over at an object, something different each time. As he gazed quickly upon her now, he saw that she chose a lock of her hair to twirl around her fingers, just to release it and let the curl bounce back to it's normal shape before she grabbed it again. She was scared.
Christine had grown so much while he was away. Raoul's absence had allowed her to grow, when while he was shadowing her, she stayed the little girl that he had known and loved. She was so easily spooked back then - seemingly afraid of her own shadow if it snuck up too quickly upon her. She had been so confused...wanting to stay that child that Raoul had knew so well, yet wanting desperately to grow and flourish into what Erik was trying to shape her in, as if she was clay in his musical hands. He wasn't only teaching her to sing for all those years, but trying to teach her how to live, to grow, to love. To move on from the tragic death of her so beloved father, even though it was he, himself, that prolonged that. And in doing such, all of it, she remained confused, unsure of what to do because everyone wanted something different; demanding something from her, even if she didn't know if she could give it. She had so many people on her all the time - Madame Giry, the managers from the Populaire, Meg, Carlotta, whom hated her with a passion, Raoul, the spirit of her father that lived within her. And Erik. All had led to her whirlwinds of constant state of utter confusion.
But then Raoul faded from her life, Erik torn from it, Meg too busy to pay much attention, Madame Giry too heartbroken to look at her, Managers not caring for a girl that looked like a broken china doll; beautiful in every way, yet too broken to be of use. Somehow, through that brokeness, she had found herself. Not the person that others wanted her to be, but the person she truly was. She had grown into a woman in full bloom until she was where she is today - beautiful inside and out, good at all she does, and full of confidence, sure footed, proud.
So why did she look so defeated now? Had what he done - allowed her to come with him, though it was she begged - been the cause for an erosion of all her hard work? Were her newfound emotions and strong points being stripped away as they rode farther and farther from everything she knew? Was he, instead of nurturing her as he always wanted to do, now being the cause of her slow destruction?
His heart lurched in his chest at his accusions that he rained upon himself.
By the break of dawn, they were resting in a valley, the horse calming down after his harsh run. Even a young stallion couldn't keep up with the harsh urging of Erik's kicks all night long. But Erik was only thinking of Christine, his mind still not letting himself rest on this issue.
One thing kept screaming in his mind, all his senses, his intuition, his everything, kept telling him to force her to go back home and forget about their crazy plan. Why did he let her continue to think everything would work out when he knew it wouldn't? It wasn't sane to keep going on with this! He was living in a dream, terrified if he said one wrong word or did one thing wrong that this dream would shatter. Officers didn't matter. Murders didn't matter. Every mistake in his life all piled together, stuck together with old guilt no longer mattered to him. Only this dream that he continued to nurture and love mattered now. Even though he knew, one day, he'd have to break away before Christine was hurt once again by him. And something kept telling him that it should be soon. Soon he'd have to set her free. He'd break her heart one last time, and give her another chance at living out the life of every normal girl. Meg would guide her in the right direction, he was sure. Madame Giry would be there, to help out of memory of him. Christine exceeded Meg all too well - the managers would take her under their wing once more in a heartbeat, he knew all too well of all of this.
Now all he needed to do was to let her go...
