A/N: Time for some development and fluff! Yes, fluff...just a little is ok, right:)

Disclaimer: Own nothing, want everything.


What does it mean to share a life with someone? The words can flow easily from a person's mouth, but to promise is to bind yourself. Christine knew it, had known it the instant she'd said the words. For her, it was not just a desire to know Erik that caused these words to spring out. She knew how much she'd have to give up before she'd even uttered them. To be comply to her incarceration, to live life within an enclosed space without so much as a window to look outside from- this was the price to pay in order to stay by his side. And she'd accepted it. Her world, for better or worse, would be his music. And him.
They didn't speak, but she'd allowed him to hold her. They sat on the floor and held each other, reaffirming each other's existence. Christine felt him tremble as if in pain as she held on to him, and felt new tears spring. I should have known better, she thought to herself. I should have known he couldn't cry... His hold was possessive, accepting her offer with his very touch.

Christine, his mind whispered as his hand ran through her hair. Christine... he felt the weight of her tears on his neck, all the more amazed at her. He removed himself from her hold only for a moment, to take off his coat and place it over her shivering form. Looking into her face, he saw her lips had turned a little blue from the chill. With his left hand he removed a glove, then gently raised a hand to touch them with a slender finger. His eyes would not turn away from her surprised ones, no matter the mortification that grew as they closed the gap between each other. Her lips were colder than they looked.

"If you get sick again, Christine..," he whispered hoarsely. Her eyes softened, but the tears kept flowing. She's crying for me...Even as all of the emotion overtook him, and he began to fall into shock, he knew why he'd begun to really covet her. It wasn't the beauty of her face or the sweetness of her voice, though that he had admired long before he knew her. Why...why do you say what I most need to hear?

"Erik..." She whispered with such relief in her voice. He was back! He'd regained his self-control, and he'd called her by name with such gentility.


As he seemed to slip away in sleep, Christine did not move. She laid his head gently in her lap and took his hand. Erik had watched over her just like this when she'd been ill, and now it was her turn. Looking into his sleeping face, she had to wonder how he could harm anyone. Where, in this body, did that distortion lie dormant? It didn't matter, for the moment. His envy and anger had dissipated as soon as he realized the reason she'd come back. For him.

Yes, she was afraid- but she couldn't walk away from him. "God help us..."


"Meg, what's wrong?" Liddy quickly jumped out of bed and rushed to sit at her roommate's. It was the middle of the night, and Meg had nearly fallen out of bed as she'd awoken.

"Oh..." Meg rubbed her temple and tried to make everything come together. "A dream...I think that's all it was." She looked up to Liddy. "Oh, but it wasn't a normal dream, Lid."

"For you to make all that racket, I should assume not." She scooted into bed with her friend and pulled the covers around them. "So, can you remember it?"

Meg sighed and dropped back into her pillows. "It was so strange. I was a little girl again, very tiny, and hiding behind my mother's skirts."

"I've met your mother, and personally I'd find being near the woman scary enough," Liddy chided, trying to cheer up her friend.

"Hush, Liddy." Meg was not in the mood. "I was hiding, because I was afraid of the house we were going to enter."

"Was it haunted?"

"No...it was a beautiful house...very large. A manor. And everything was very pretty inside...except for one room." Her eyes fixed on the ceiling, trying to remember. "It was a room my mother told me I could not go inside. But I did." She shivered and took Liddy's hand in hers. "It was a very dark room, Liddy."

At last she began to understand. "I know how you hate the dark, Meg." Even now, the small nightlight under the bed offered her friend some protection.

"No, it wasn't just the dark. There was something in there." She looked Liddy in the eyes. "Even now, I can't say what it was. I didn't see it very well. But it wasn't human."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because human eyes don't glow in the dark."


He'd woken up to the most frighteningly beautiful image he'd never even dared dream. He looked into her sleeping face, suspended gently above him. She'd fallen asleep like that, still holding his hand. Her long lashes didn't bat, and her soft face was devoid of any pain she could feel. Watching over him, Christine was like an angel, and she was all the more beautiful for her kindness. But this won't do. As much as Erik appreciated her kind gesture, it would not do to have her injure herself more than she had.

Erik moved from her lap and sat up. Easing himself behind her, he slid Christine into his arms. She didn't wriggle or awaken, only sighed in her sleep. He stood and carried her to her bed. Once he'd made sure the girl was comfortably settled, Erik shook off his tiredness. On her neck the mark was still raw. How had he allowed himself to rest, when she must have felt such discomfort? He'd never had much use for his first aid kit- he'd always had Mrs. Giry, if worse came to worse- but he wanted to help Christine.

He went to his room and searched for the kit hidden deep in his closet. Behind his clothes and the relics of a life long since shed, he found the white box. He quickly checked it, and was greatly relieved to see plenty of gauze and bandages and disinfectant. Now you're treating her pretty little neck instead of snapping his. The disgust, the disappointment in his ravaged self angered him. Had it, even with her willing sacrifice, not been appeased? She's staying...she said she'll stay..

Until the moment that door flies open for her. Then, you know what will happen...

"No..." He whispered. "She's promised me..."

That woman promised you, too, didn't she? Erik had to stifle a groan at that memory. Of course he remembered, of course he was afraid! But...Christine had come back, hadn't she? Of her own will, she had accepted to share his prison. That lent him resolve, and he left his room with the box.

Christine's head laid to one side by the time he returned to her. It was helpful, as it exposed her neck to him, and so Erik did not move it. He ignored any thoughts but the ones concerning her injury. He removed come cotton balls and antiseptic. Once he'd soaked the cotton, he gently applied it to her neck, careful to smooth away her hair first. It would sting, but it was sure to take care of any possible infection. With that done, he rubbed some cream gently onto the wound with more cotton, then set a bandage around it.

How could she have done that willingly? Why would she put the wire to her own neck? He wondered at her, at the desperation that drove her to it. It was so much like what she'd done. Unknowingly his hand lifted itself to his face, and felt the scar that hid the reason for that woman's madness.

'I'd even die for you...' Hadn't those been her words? Hadn't she proved her love for him?

"Mother..." How he hated calling her that, when he felt certain that mother was a title reserved for someone better, superior. To knowingly take one's life was so simple, but the ability was beyond him. Even now, he was living to spite her. Living, because I have no other choice...perhaps she didn't have a choice, either.

"Erik," she whispered, and he looked down to see her staring at him oddly. Had she heard?


She'd woken up to see the faraway look in his eyes, and his hand at his scar. Then she'd heard that word escape his lips. What did that word mean to him, that it could make him look like that? A new face, full of sorrow, appeared before her eyes. Why is that word so very bitter sounding, when you say it? She knew she should be afraid, and she knew she should feel some anger and disgust for him. But that's not what she felt at all. She felt a dull aching in her chest, and wondered if this was the closest he could come to grief. I cried for my mother...and father. I risked everything for father's violin. But he doesn't have any of that. He has no one. She sat up, and felt something at her throat. The fresh bandage.

"It won't scar." He said. Had that worried her, made her look so strange? Even now, everything in her countenance was anxious. Hoping to calm her, he placed his hand on hers. "I promise, I'm going to make sure it doesn't. I'll take care of you." She stilled a moment, then her tears began to fall.

Erik... Poor, unfortunate Erik! What kind of life have you known?

Her tears just kept falling, and Erik felt panic set in. Surely, all these tears could not be for him. He moved his hands to her shoulders, looking carefully at her neck. "Christine?" Suddenly her arms sprang out and around him and held him close, still crying.

For a moment he could not understand her. She held on so tightly, and he could not hold her back. He looked down to see only her mass of curls. "Christine," he gently said, "are you in pain? Does- "

"I can't...," she whispered, "I can't say I understand you." She clutched his shirt and looked up. Her hand raised itself slowly. "And I don't know who you really are." Her hand was at the level of his cheek, and she could see the fear in his eyes. "I'm not sure what lies behind the mask." Her tears slowed and she managed a small, sad smile to reassure him. "But I'm going to trust you." She was about to touch his face, when suddenly he winced slightly. First hurt, then understanding set in. He's been alone for so long... Slowly, she dropped her hand to grasp his, and brought it up to her face. "And I want you to trust me in return, someday."

Gloveless, he could feel the soft heat of her cheek in his palm, the weight of it. Daring to make the most of this moment, he slid his thumb up the apple of her cheek, then back down slowly. He was unsure of how to proceed, and watched her eyes for her reaction. She, however, just closed her eyes. It was almost cruel, the way she accepted him. He knew that he wanted all of her, not just the feel of her cheek, but she could not have known that.

Everything you touch just seems to die, doesn't it? He knew. Erik knew how much suffering he could cause, even inadvertently. But here she was, so trusting and gentle, allowing him such closeness. It overrode any selfless action he might have persuaded himself to take. He knew how selfishly he acted as he leaned forward, just a little, and closed his eyes too. His lips touched her flesh as the blood pounded in his ears and his guilt rang in his mind.


A/N: Kiss! OMG I can't believe I let him kiss her...I might edit this out, if you all feel it's too soon...let me know, ok?