A/N: Chapter 12, and now we delve deeper and Erik discovers a new insecurity!


Erik was distracted for most of the class. His eyes looked beyond demonstrations and blackboards, back in time to when Christine had been so wrapped up in music that she hadn't rejected him as he pressed closer. He'd brought his head down and taken in the scent of her curls, and rested it- just a little!- on hers. But these awful acts, done when she wouldn't notice, only gave him that moment's satisfaction. He wanted more than small touches for his own instant gratification. Now it was all about how to achieve his aim...in mind, body, and soul. Christine.
Nadir sat at his desk, trying not to look as bored as he really was. After marrying Antoinette, he'd given up the beat for a desk, but he missed the excitement of the chase. He even worried that without it, he'd grow fat off of his wife's cooking.

"Good," Antoinette had replied, "better heavy and with me than lean and six feet under. And I'm sure Meg and Madeleine agree." That had ended that, but it was still frustrating. Paperwork an analysis...things that needed to be done but not by him!

I'm the Sherlock Holmes of the far east...I've flushed out masterminds, and here I am filing reports...

A knock interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up to see a young man nervously enter. He wore nice enough clothes, and his honey-blonde hair was stylish. Of the well-off college set, I'm sure. "Yes, can I help you?" Perhaps his car's been stolen, or...

"I was told to file a report with you, sir." He was motioned to a chair near Nadir's desk.

"What kind?" He opened his desk drawer, ready to pull out the appropriate file.

"I want to file a missing person's report." He looked determined to do this, even though the chance of success was slim, so the detective sighed and clicked his pen.

"Your name?"

"Raoul. Raoul De Chagny." It was a proud name, French in origin. Nadir liked it, but it sounded so familiar...

"And the missing person?"

"Christine Daae." Nadir felt the name echo through him, and he knew.

Erik, will I keep cleaning your mess until the day I die?


She was composing, trying to find what she'd felt last night again. Whether it was Claire du Lune or Moonlight Sonata, it was not the same. It was easy to play, but not the same electrical current she'd felt running through her when Erik had been there. Erik, and those hands. Was it just her imagination, or had they become less frightening overnight? Less frightening and more...kind. And it's not just his singing voice that I like anymore...even when he'd scolded me, it wasn't in a cruel tone. Her hands flipped through the music sheets, and she found what she'd been looking for. A little inspiration...
Classes had ended, but Erik sat in the music room. With no one in the room, he pulled out his sheet music from his violin case and took up his work. He had been composing this piece for months, the right notes ebbing into and away from him in a manner that seemed to challenge his hold on the music. He thought of her, eyes closed and completely trusting, and he wanted to finish this. When her voice is flawless, perhaps she'll sing this for me...

With no one around, he allowed the guilty thought to brew into hope. He had to, if he was going to keep her with him. Even if he knew the harm in it, for her sake he could not react violently to his discomfort with her anymore.He had to grow used to her.

"Please, don't frighten me like that again." She looked up at him with tears shining in her eyes. "Please, Erik."

"Christine," he could feel her hand, see her piercing eyes. His mind wandered back to her momentary lapse, when she'd allowed herself to mold into him. What he...they were feeling as music overtook her good judgement was perfect. But for now, he set his hopes of conquest aside and played. He knew his head would be clearer after releasing his thoughts into the air.


"Mama, how is Nadir? The baby?" Meg's cheery voice over the phone brought a smile to Mrs. Giry's face. Even alone in another country, she was still her Meg.

"Nadir is at work, and sends his love. Madeleine is napping. She was very fussy last night. I'm glad to hear you're well, Meg."

"Mama, is there something wrong? Normally, you're demanding to know my progress in dance and whether I've allowed a boy to come within ten feet of me. Very well and no, by the way." Even another continent away, Meg was silly and sweet and lovely. Mrs. Giry realized with a pang how much she missed her girl. But, a little matter was weighing on her mind and she needed a young lady's opinion.

"Meg, what would a boy do with a rose? Not a dozen, just one long-stemmed rose." It sounded ridiculous, and she felt she'd turn red when Meg laughed over the phone.

"Is Nadir trying to woo you all over again?" Her voice mocked a devious tone, "Or perhaps a new man's entered the scene?"

"Meg, I'm starting to think your going overseas to study was a mistake. You're becoming far too lax and undisciplined -"

"I'm sorry, Mama," Meg quickly interjected. When her mother took that tone, it wasn't wise to tease. "It was a joke. A bad one. About your question though...well, it's odd of you to ask, but I think- I think this boy wants to give it to someone. A special kind of someone. It's a sweet gesture."

"I see..." Her theory reaffirmed, Mrs. Giry allowed herself to indulge in conversation with Meg. It had been so long since she'd heard of the latest techniques being used in the London ballet, and she was in too good a mood to waste with laundry.


As he drove back, the notes still rang in him. Erik had made ground on his piece and it thrilled him. The melody seemed to unlock itself from some strange place, and the notes had come flooding out from him. But the lyrics, he knew, came from another place entirely. They came from thinking of a muse made flesh.

He was thus distracted when his cell phone rang. He looked at the screen and was not pleasantly surprised to see the Daroga's number flashing. "Hello, Daroga. Calling for more of my friendly chatter?"

"Christine Daae." The words had their desired impact. Erik became serious, clutching the phone just a little tighter.

"What of her?" Keep complete apathy. "I paid you, your job is done."

"It seems she wasn't as friendless as you'd have liked. Someone came by and tried to file a missing person report." The detective was annoyed, but he tried to pay close attention to his reaction over the phone. He noted a shift in his breathing, but no outburst came.

"And what happened?"

"Well, he's not family, and she's of legal age so he can't really file it. All signs point to her going on her backpacking trip through Europe. Raoul De Chagny's the only one not buying it."

"And why not? I did ask you to be thorough." Calm...remain as you are. Raoul Chagny is none of my concern.

"He recently discovered she'd been living here, and has been looking for her since. He says he's certain she wouldn't do something foolish like run off to Europe without telling someone where she'd be." Nadir lit a cigarette and breathed in the smoke.

"Well, he can think what he likes. He can't trace her, and he can't prove she's not on vacation. Daroga, why would you think him a threat to warn me of?" An insignificant boy, whom she's never even mentioned before-

"That boy won't give up on her. The way he looked when he spoke of her...it seems like you've killed someone very dear to him." If he could have seen Erik's face at that moment, perhaps he would have been kinder with his words. As he could not, however, the Persian snorted in distaste. "I hope you're proud, Erik. It's not just your life you ruin- you've harmed theirs."

This was too much. He wanted to explode into irrationality, but he held back. The detective was on the other line, and would be quick to investigate any abnormality in Erik's stoic demeanor. "Sermons, my old friend, should be reserved for those who can be saved."

Nadir tossed his cigarette. "I just can't help trying. Antoinette's influence, I'm sure. I'll leave you to your solitude. Good night."

Erik was grateful that his detective had hung up when he did. The anger welling up had to be let out. He slammed his fist on the car roof. Once, twice, over and over until the pain overwhelmed him more than his burning envy. He clutched the wheel and took in heaving breaths. Foolish, very foolish.

He caught his image in the rear view mirror, panting and angry. His face was still near-perfect. Near-perfect, and hideous at the same time. Is his face very handsome? All of this time, was she even thinking of me when she-

"Think of Me," he felt bile rise at the words. Erik heard her voice, so kind. He remembered her nervous look.

"It's sad, I think. I can imagine someone like me, singing to someone she can't physically reach." She looked up to him, hoping he understood what she was trying to explain. "She remembers him. She thinks of him. But, will he ever think of her? She wants him to, even if she's not there with him anymore."

He decided. Opening the car door and slamming it behind him, he walked quickly to the apartment. No useless promises, no flowers. He was not sure of what he'd do once he opened that door, but he was certain he'd disappoint her. He'd make her cry, the way he wanted to but could not. And then he'd make her stay with him anyway. Forever.


The door opened with a click, and he ploughed through to the den. He stood and watched Christine at the piano only for a second. "Christine," he called in a deadpan voice. She turned to him, surprise and a little quiver on her lips. Then, a smile. It stopped him from bringing down all of his feelings to crush her.

"Erik!" She brought her hands to her mouth to stifle her wide grin. "I know you didn't think I was ready to start this song again, but look how much better I've become!" She turned and her playing began.

Not this song, Christine, he moaned to himself, you don't know how it will anger me. She sang, and though he dreaded the sound, it was pure and clear, and he found himself drawn out of his anger and towards her. She was smiling throughout the song, bright and unbefitting the hidden sadness in what she was singing. Be proud of me, she seemed to say.

Once she'd ended the song, she stood and waited for him to speak. Since he remained silent, her smile faded a little. "Was I very off this time? I tried to play like you did, but-" She stopped and watched him again.

"We'll keep practicing. You need more training," he watched her features darken a little and sighed. "But it's much better than before. It was beautiful."

If he'd have known how she'd react to something as silly as a compliment from him, Erik might have done it sooner. She practically glowed, looking like some kind of angel. "Do you really mean it, Erik?"

"You know me well enough to know I don't like flattery."

"I know," she accepted his reasoning, to his astonishment. She wrung her hands gently and nodded her head. "But you don't know how happy it makes me to hear you say that." Her sincere eyes disarmed any remaining desire to cause more suffering. He dropped his violin case and shook off his jacket.

"I'm making dinner. Keep playing, I'll let you know when it's ready." He didn't wait for her reply, but heard the piano as he went about fixing dinner. I've made her this happy, with only a few words. The girl who feared him would evolve and mature. Fear can turn to love. It's happening right now. As he heard her sing he could feel her presence. She was not afraid of him anymore, and that lent him new resolve. She is not going to leave me. Ever.


A/N: Dun dun dun!Erik knows Raoul is out there...he knows something is up, but he's not about to let her go without a fight! Please review! It helps me get the writing flow going!