A/N: Chapter 15! Now we see what Christine's really made of.


Disclaimer: I got soul...and nothing else...
There was silence between them, while Christine's tears slipped quietly down her face and Erik faced what he'd just said. She couldn't understand him. Although they'd already been through so much, why couldn't he trust her not to go running to the police? And why did he want her to stay?

"Why?" Christine finally asked. "Why do you want me to stay?"

Erik closed his eyes. What to tell her...'I love you and I won't let anyone else take you away.' It would scare her, and change the life he had with her forever. He'd lie, cheat, and murder to protect her from the truth. Christine was not ready to hear such words from him. "Because...your voice is too valuable to me." He'd released her wrists and taken a step away from her. "You're so close to achieving what we've set out to do. I can't allow you to ruin that because of some fling."

Christine glared at him. "How dare you! You don't know anything about me, about Raoul."

"Enlighten me, then. What is he to you?" This inquiry was met with angry silence. He wondered if she'd answer at all when he heard her sigh.

"Raoul...was my childhood friend. And the last link I have to my father."

"Are you certain that's all you are?" He wanted so badly to believe her, but feared she was lying to try and persuade him to change his mind. None of her anger had dissipated, and she was irritated at his disbelief.

"I haven't seen or heard from him since we were children. He was one of my father's students, before his Aunt took him away to some private school."

"Is that why you think he's your 'last link', Christine?"

"He has my father's violin." Her voice was at once clear of all reproach and tinged with sadness.

"What?" His genuine surprise overrode his suspicion. Her father's violin?

"Father's very first violin, given to his prize student as a parting gift. Try as I may, Raoul always was more skilled." She covered her face with her hands a moment and took a deep breath. "I was jealous. Maybe I still am. But when he and my mother passed away, I wanted to track him down and ask him for the violin. Even if it really should belong to him." She looked up at him a moment, trying to see his reaction. "You might not understand, but I want to have something he loved with me, since I can't have him."

Erik didn't reply, but he understood more than she could imagine. "Calm yourself, Christine." He placed a hand on her forehead and noted her fever was only a slight one now, nearly nonexistent. "You need rest. I'll bring you something cool to drink and more medicine."

She took his hand calmly off of her forehead, and shook her head. "I meant what I said. I won't forget." With that, she walked with as much dignity as she could muster to her room. She ran in and laid herself face-down on her bed and, alone again, allowed herself to cry loudly into her pillow.


The choice to believe her or not weighed on his mind. He would not let her go, this much he knew, but whether her heart remained as unoccupied as he'd originally thought or had always belonged to Raoul, he could not tell. Her words, her sorrow, it stung him. To understand her and still deny her was just rubbing salt into the wound.

She was crying, Erik did not have to hear the sound of her sobs to know. Maybe I could get the violin for her. He had the daroga as an unwilling asset- a call to him and he'd have an address- and his skills as a locksmith, learned in the silent studies of his childhood, to help him. It wouldn't be so hard. Not as hard as letting her go. As he approached her door to bring her this idea, he heard her muffled crying. He was about to knock, when he heard her strained voice.

"Raoul." She wept bitter, angry tears, all the while wanting him!

It hardened him. He would not knock on her door, grovel and entreat her with favors. Not when her mind was so far from him. Instead he backed away and took his car keys from their hook. He felt a sudden need for a stiff drink and distance from her.


She'd cried herself to sleep, but when she woke up Christine didn't have to leave her room to know he'd gone. No music played, no book was offered her, and he hadn't entered her room without knocking. After washing her face and brushing her hair, she felt better. Even the fever had finally ebbed away, leaving only a slight headache that some ibuprofen would quickly take care of.

It was so quiet. She sat on the sofa, flipping through the books Erik had left there to pass the time. Though she didn't want to see him, being alone in the apartment was stifling. As she moved to pick up a textbook, another book dropped to the floor. Paradise Lost. With a little reluctance she picked it up and looked at its cover, a painting of the Tree of Knowledge. She remembered how she'd fought with Erik over the passage she'd stopped at, and felt a small bulge in between the pages. Opening the book, she saw her pink ribbon, holding someone's place. Right at that same passage that had moved her so.

Of her Eve loose tresses hid: he Adam in delight

Both of her beauty, and submissive charms,

Smiled with superiour love, as Jupiter

On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds

That shed Mayflowers; and pressed her matron lip

With kisses pure: Aside the Devil turned

For envy; yet with jealous leer malign

Eyed them askance, and to himself thus plained.

Sight hateful, sight tormenting! thus these two,

Imparadised in one another's arms,

The happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill

Of bliss on bliss; while I to Hell am thrust,

Where neither joy nor love, but fierce desire,

Among our other torments not the least,

Still unfulfilled with pain of longing pines...

And in the margin of the passage, something handwritten in dark red ink:

She fair, divinely fair, fit love for Gods!

Is Eve really so unreachable and beautiful to Erik? She picked up the ribbon and looked it over, recognizing it as her own. She put it behind her and tied her dark curls with it. Why? There was no way she could distinguish what she wanted to question- there was too much. His kindness, his cruelty, his secretive ways- it all evaded her.


The large front door slamming shut signaled Erik's return. Christine stood, putting the book down. She was unsure of what either would do, but couldn't force herself to go into hiding.

He stood just as always, aloof and defiant, but the unmistakable scent of alcohol was permeating the room. Christine looked at him, horrified. She'd never expected this from her arrogant captor.

"You're drunk."

"As always, so perceptive." Sarcasm was not a weapon he'd used against her before, but he was reveling in his self-pity. It was justified to make her cringe as he had.

"You don't usually drink, Erik." As he stumbled past her to slump into his armchair, she shook her head. "I don't think you should drink this much again."

"No, of course not," Erik muttered, "I'm sure your precious little playfellow doesn't drink at all."

"I wouldn't know," she replied, trying not to get angry at a drunk. "But you should change and hurry to bed. Tomorrow you-"

"Since when do you give such a damn about me? Miss Daae, are you so simple, throwing angry words around and then forgetting all about them?" He waved his hand in drunken indifference. "Aren't you ill? Go rest and dream of the far-off prince you so long to see." He didn't recognize her confusion, beginning to settle into a drowsy state. The one drink he'd initially taken had turned into several, and he'd walked his drunken and sorry self home. He was tired, too tired to hear her entreat him further for her boy. "Just leave, Christine." Little did he realize that the last words he'd spoken to her before dropping into a half-sleep would be taken to heart.


What temptation Christine felt! He was dead to the world, the first time he'd ever slept before her, and she knew the keys were somewhere on him. Is my fear the only thing stopping me from--? If I fail, if he wakes up, everything is over... She knew her fears so well, and knew how little chance she might have. But, like Eve stretching for the apple, Christine approached Erik's sleeping form. She knelt by him, looking up into his half-closed eyes. It frightened her to see even a glimpse of those eyes, but they did not move to follow her hand. They were glossed over, not noticing her at all.

Just making contact with his coat made her want to move away in guilt. How inappropriate this was to her, but she knew it was the only way. Her hand explored the pockets, one after the other, until she felt something cold and metallic. Her heart nearly stopped, and as she pulled it out, she knew these were not the keys. In her hand lay the cold, thin wire she'd seen on that terrible night, so long ago. Unable to bring herself to set it back in its place, with a shaking hand she stuffed it into her skirt pocket. Oh God...

She had to look away from his face. If she was going to continue, she could not look into those dead eyes. Again, her hand sought that small ring of keys. She had to find them, had to leave this place. Will he be all right? She shook her head. He stole the world from me...hurt me.. As the keys fell out of her trembling hand, she did not know if she could betray him. Teacher, perhaps friend. Taking the keys, Christine stood and walked slowly away from Erik and towards the door. One of these three unlocked the outside world. Quivering, she guided the first into the lock.


"Christine." She gasped as she heard his soft voice, and had to turn. No movement or other sound came. Be quick, she reminded herself, if he wakes up...She turned the key, and heard the click. On her first try, she'd found the key. Elation should have filled her as the door opened and she felt the breeze of the night on her face, but instead she felt guilt. I'm leaving...I'm really leaving? She longed to run, to go home and sleep in her bed once again. More than that, she wanted to find Raoul. But I can't ever come back... Fear of his swift anger kept her from looking back, and the fear of separation kept her from taking one step outside. Twisted every way...

"-you won't ever leave me!"

She remembered, and instinct took over. Without even leaving the keys behind, she ran into the night.


A/N: Yay, she's freed herself. Now...would Erik really leave himself that open, so that Christine could find the keys? Read and discover what Christine will do, and what Erik will plan. Oh, and review- it makes me very, very happy to read the reviews. I promise to update as soon as I can if you do!