This chapter is a little more of a filler, but it also gives the various viewpoints of everyone as the situation unfolds. I think it kind of speaks for itself, so I'll let you get to reading. Thank you for your support! This week has been especially rough with school, so I was very happy to see the reviews.

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Exhausted from their conversation, Christine had tiredly massaged her forehead and said that she needed a moment to lie down. Leaving the window, she had collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling with a frown on her face and a furrow in her brow. Unsure of what to do next, Raoul had left the room to get them something to drink from the vending machines down the hall. He was beginning to feel weary himself.

With two cold cans of soda in hand, Raoul slid the key card through the slot and quietly opened the door to the room. "They didn't have Dr. Pepper," he began, "so I got…."

He stopped speaking as he saw that Christine had fallen asleep atop the comforter of the king-sized bed. She was on her right side, her cheek resting against the pillow and her blonde hair slightly covering her pallid face. Her eyelids fluttered as he walked in, but she didn't stir.

Raoul softly sighed and set the two cans on the dresser. She looked completely drained of energy, and he briefly wondered what else she had been through in that past month. At least he now understood why Christine had been acting so strangely. She'd been terrified the entire time. God knew what else had happened to her. A guy who would drug a girl and hold her against her will had to be capable of a lot worse. Still, he could only speculate, and he wouldn't prod her for any more information.

Not wanting to do anything that would awaken her, Raoul took a seat next to the window and stared into the room. It was already three in the afternoon. After the intense conversation, both had quietly stood there for some time, each lost in their own thoughts and wondering what to do next. He'd been trying to figure out how to make Christine see reason in all of this.

Raoul rubbed his chin and thought over the situation. Although he couldn't quite understand Christine's protests over trying to escape, it wasn't a huge surprise after all she had been through. Wasn't there a name for this kind of thing where you identified with your captor? Stockholm Syndrome? Or maybe she was still frightened. Whatever it was, Christine obviously needed help getting through this.

They had a week. Maybe when she saw that she was no longer in danger, Christine's head would begin to clear. She would see this guy for what he really was-a dangerous criminal. Maybe she would even be willing to call the police. Whatever happened, Raoul was intent on taking her where this guy couldn't lay a hand upon her.

The biggest problem was that she often spoke of him as if he were superhuman, able to be everywhere at once, to always see and hear what was going on between them. Raoul was disturbed by the matter, but surely this Erik was no more than an ordinary man. He had obtained so much power over Christine's mind that she saw him as otherwise.

Raoul looked over as Christine stirred and sat up, rubbing her blue eyes of sleep and looking around the room as though confused. After she saw him sitting by the window, she seemed to remember where she was. He couldn't tell whether she was relieved or upset. "Oh. I didn't mean to sleep!" she exclaimed. "What time is it?"

"You looked worn out. I thought I'd let you relax for a while. It's a little past three right now."

"Three?" she groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. "I have so much to get done. The apartment. And I need to call Mrs. Valerius' relatives. I don't even know when the funeral is yet."

"We'll get it all done," he assured her, attempting to calm her shattered nerves. "How does some food sound first? I didn't get any lunch. You?"

She hesitated and looked to the ground. "Raoul, I really don't know if it's safe for us to be together in public. I just don't know."

"Why not? We're friends spending time together. There's no one else here. No one will care."

She gave him a pleading look. "I know this is hard to understand. But Erik is…He's very afraid that I'll leave him. He would do anything to get me back. And I don't want either of you to be hurt."

Raoul rubbed a hand over his temples tiredly, wishing she would realize how bad this all sounded from the outside. Didn't she see that she was a prisoner? "Christine. We're friends going out for a meal. I want to help you out this week. You've been trapped for the last month, and I wish you'd take some time to think all of this through. I'm worried about you."

Christine sighed. Gazing into a mirror than hung on the wall, she began to run a hand through her matted hair, attempting to get the tangles out. "What if sees us?" she asked, after several seconds had passed. "Then what?"

"He won't," Raoul stated. "We would have noticed if anyone were following us. Besides, I wouldn't mind seeing him. I have a few things I'd like to say to him."

Christine whirled around and practically grabbed the front of his shirt. "Don't ever go looking for him! You'd be dead before you even saw him. Do you understand?"

The look on her face confirmed how serious she was, and Raoul suddenly wondered exactly what they were dealing with. "All right," he said, removing her hand from his shirt and clasping it. Her fingers were almost icy. "I won't do anything without asking you first. But will you grab some dinner with me? Your choice of places. I promise that nothing is going to happen."

She took a deep breath and nodded. "Fine. Let's go eat. There are some good places around campus. Then we can start sorting through some of the stuff at the apartment."

He grinned, grateful he had pushed some of her fears away. "Great! I promise everything will be fine, Christine. Take some time and think everything through. All right?"

"All right," she replied with obvious reluctance. "Maybe some food would help."

After a quick glance around the room, she followed Raoul out the door and back into the hallway, wringing her hands nervously in front of her. She checked around every corner. Whenever a door shut or open, she whirled around to look behind her. After she insisted, they took the stairwell instead of the elevator again. Christine almost froze as they reached the lobby, her eyes darting right and left and her hand gripping the metal railing.

"We shouldn't be here like this," she stated softly. "We shouldn't."

Raoul attempted to lead her forward. "We're fine. Nothing is going to happen. No one even knows we're here." He handed the key card back up to the front desk, not knowing whether he was going to be back that night or not. Frankly, he wasn't keen on leaving Christine by herself that day.

"Here. We'll take my car and pick yours up on the way back. You look like you could use a break from driving."

She nodded as they walked back into the parking lot. A small smile crossed her face. "Yeah. I'd probably run off the road or something."

He laughed, happy to see that she was at least making an attempt at a joke. Taking out his keys, he unlocked the door of the BMW and started to climb into the driver's seat. Christine reached for the back handle. "You can sit in the front," he said, slightly confused. "Unless you don't want to. The back's a little cramped, though."

"Oh!" she gasped, shaking her head in embarrassment. "Sorry. Habit, I guess." Biting her lip, she climbed into the front and sat down in the leather seat.

He chuckled and turned on the car, sending the heater blasting into the air. The radio also switched on, playing a light pop mix. "You sit in the backseat a lot?"

"Erik and I sit in the back," Christine stated with strange solemnity. "He has a driver."

"Oh."

With the radio softly playing a nineties ballad, he silently drove forward. Christine kept her gaze out the window, a distant look in her eyes as she gave him directions. Although the restaurant was only a few miles away, a part of him wanted to keep driving and get her as far away as possible from whatever had done this to her. Even after they were inside the confines of the restaurant, she wouldn't stop search the room. He gently took her arm and led her to a booth.

"This looks good," he stated, merely attempting to make simple conversation.

She looked up and gave a half-hearted smile. "Yeah. Meg and I came here a lot." Christine paused. "I would like to see her while I'm here. She probably hates me by now, though. I haven't seen her since….that night."

"I'm sure she doesn't," he replied, picking up the menu. "It wasn't like you didn't have a valid excuse for leaving."

"Don't say anything to anyone," she replied in almost a whisper. "Promise that everything will stay between you and me. Please."

"All right. I won't." He somewhat wished that they could get away from the topic, as he was beginning to feel a little paranoid as well. Raoul repeatedly told himself they were dealing with an ordinary man, yet a feeling of anxiety was slowly building inside of him. Visions of something dark and mysterious were running through his mind.

Christine looked down at her menu. "I don't even know what to get," she murmured.

Raoul smiled and pushed his concerns away. "Whatever you feel like, Christine."

Biting her lip, she continued to scan the menu, a tired look returning to her blue eyes. "What are you getting?"

"I was thinking of trying the mushroom and Swiss burger. Don't know how it will be…but…" He shrugged good-naturedly.

Tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, she finally closed the menu. "I'll get the turkey club, I guess."

"Sounds good! Maybe we can grab some dessert, too."

He watched as she absentmindedly nodded and looked at the table, a distant expression on her face. Her eyes darted around every so often, in search of something that was never there. The carefree girl of their youth was gone, replaced by a timid and frightened ghost of herself.

Surely Christine wanted out of the situation. Even if she hesitated out of fear or duty, surely she wanted to be free again. Her life had been torn from her. Of course she would be confused. She was completely alone and needed someone's help.

Raoul Chagny clenched his jaw in determination.

He would free Christine Daae.

Everything had suddenly become quiet.

Almost too quiet.

For the last several days, Nadir had seen absolutely no sign of Erik or Ms. Daae. He had parked his car in the same spot for several hours each morning and evening, only to see nothing out of the ordinary. He had even driven a bit farther into the older side of the city, feeling that he must be getting closer to Erik's residence. No more strange phone calls from Mr. Weiss or any other people of interest had come through. Things had come to a standstill, and the Iranian wasn't sure what was to come next.

He sat at the kitchen table, picking at a TV dinner with a plastic fork and absentmindedly scanning over the New York Times. The crime rate had gone up last year. Part of the country was in a drought, while the other half was being flooded. He frowned as he saw that hostilities were still building between the US and his home country. Nothing ever seemed to change.

As a light patter of rain began to fall on his roof, Nadir rose up and threw the remaining food away. He didn't know how people ate those things. The fries had tasted like cardboard. With a yawn, he turned to make a pot of coffee, needing a boost of energy for the rest of the evening. Exhaustion and age were beginning to bear down on him these days. He knew that the time would come when he would have to give up the chase.

Nadir filled the pot with water, accidentally leaving the sink running at a steady drip. As he reached over to turn it off, a chill suddenly ran up and down his spine. He froze and attempted to gather his senses, feeling a silent presence lingering somewhere nearby. Without a doubt, he knew that he was not alone.

Heart pounding, Nadir scanned the room as the temperature dropped several degrees. Nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary. "You're a silly, old fool," he shakily whispered to himself. "Imagining things like a child. Nothing but a fool."

Shaking his head in self-disgust, he reached over to turn on the coffee pot. Just as his gaze left the empty kitchen, Nadir heard a soft whoosh of air behind him. Within a split second, a cold hand had reached around and gripped the front of his neck, nearly choking off all air. Nadir coughed and attempted to twist out of the icy grasp, but the hand held fast. The familiar voice spoke into his ear, the frigid words causing a new round of shivers to run through him.

"Did I not warn you to leave the city, Nadir?" it whispered. "Have I not repeatedly told you that our next meeting would be our last?"

Nadir continued to gasp. "Erik….please…." he choked out.

"Ah! But not only have you stayed on my territory, old friend. You have told the authorities everything! I have been infiltrated with informants, and I can only assume that I have you to thank for it. Did you really think I would allow you to live after spreading such falsities?" The grip tightened, and Nadir almost blacked out.

"No," he protested, attempting to tilt his head up and grab a breath of air. "I didn't. I promise. They asked, but I told them nothing about you."

"Why should I believe you?" he hissed. "How else could they have known, Nadir? You have wanted me gone ever since you arrived!"

"Buquet!" he choked out. "He had information. I said nothing. Please, Erik! Spare me. It is the truth."

A silence followed, and Nadir waited for several agonizing seconds, waiting for the strangling grip to either release him or fatally tighten.

"Why do they not leave me in peace?" raged Erik, seeming to direct his anger less at Nadir and more at mankind. "I have done nothing of that nature in years! Nothing! And still they continue to torment me! Well I have stopped them this time! It is over!" The grip loosened slightly, and Nadir took a deep breath.

"Stopped what," he asked, attempting to sound as sympathetic as possible. "What has happened?"

"They are everywhere, Nadir. Relentless. They have even used her to get to me. But they have failed." The grip finally released, and Nadir let out a long sigh of relief. He slowly whirled around to see Erik pacing back and forth across his kitchen tiles. A frantic look shown from the yellow eyes.

"Come…my friend," Nadir said, as if trying to console a small child. He was still in danger with Erik in such a mood. The best option was to keep calm. "Let us talk. Where is Christine?"

Erik stopped pacing and looked up. "She will return soon. She will come back. It was very necessary that she left, but she will return, Nadir."

The Iranian detected a clear note of panic in the frantic words. Something was wrong. "I'm sure that she will. But where is she?"

"Of course she will return! She will not leave me! My Christine would never leave me." Erik resumed pacing, his bony hands clenched into tight fists.

Nadir sighed, realizing he was getting nowhere. "I am sure that everything will be fine."

"Yes." Erik nodded. "After her guardian is buried, she will return. And we will live in peace where no one will harm us. Because she is all that I need, Nadir! Nothing else! Yes. She will return." A short pause followed, and the yellow eyes flared. "No matter what the boy tells her."

"The boy?" questioned Nadir in confusion. "You mean her friend?" As things began to make some sense, a deadly energy rose in the air.

"He will not sway her! She loves me! Not that pathetic boy! He could never understand her! Christine will return to me!"

"Erik," he cautiously began. "I am sure that everything will work out. Simply calm down." Nadir really didn't believe what he was saying, but he was beginning to fear for the safety of several people, himself included. "Let us sit down and have a short discussion. As we used to do."

"No!" growled Erik, blending into the shadows as he walked in the direction of the exit. "I must leave. Preparations must be made for her return. After Christine is safely back home, we will invite you over. You would like that, wouldn't you? Yes. After she returns to me, we will all have dinner."

"Erik…"

"Have a good evening." The door quickly opened, and his masked friend was gone within an instant.

Scratching his head, Nadir sat down at the table in a partial state of shock. He rubbed his neck, still feeling an aching sensation where Erik had grabbed him. On the one hand, he was grateful that Erik had been distraught enough not to even remember his original deadly intentions. It had been some time since Nadir had seen him so without composure. At the same time, he was worried about what was to come.

What exactly were Ms. Daae's plans? Was this a simple misunderstanding-a part of Erik's paranoia? Perhaps she would return.

Or maybe she had finally taken a chance at escape…freed herself from this obvious madness. From what it sounded like, she had run into the arms of her friend and away from something she couldn't possibly understand. And Erik had somehow discovered this fact.

And if this were all true, one life was in danger at the very least.

How many hours away was Vermont?

Christine had slept perhaps one hour into the night before awakening to find herself in her old bedroom. It took her several moments to remember where she was and all that had occurred that afternoon. Mrs. Valerius' apartment was dark and quiet, slightly below a comfortable temperature. Her eyes wandered around the room, looking at all the belongings that had still yet to be packed or thrown away. It was going to be difficult to part with some things…and yet it was also time to move on.

Realizing that sleep was not going to return, she got up and slipped on an old cotton robe over her pajamas. Padding softly down the hallway and into the living room, she looked inside to see Raoul fast asleep on the sofa. He was lying on his stomach, his head resting against a throw pillow and one arm draped over the side of the couch. She had offered him the other bedroom and even told him that he might be more comfortable in a hotel. Her friend had insisted on staying there, though. She smiled sadly. He was trying to protect her from something he knew nothing about.

After a quiet and somewhat awkward meal, they had retrieved her car from the hotel and returned to Mrs. Valerius' apartment. Immediately, they began to sort through the many items of the home, throwing some things away and boxing up others. Some belongings would be given to Mrs. Valerius' relations, and others could be donated. Christine wasn't quite sure what to do with most of her possessions. She hadn't been sure about anything that day.

As they looked through some of the older objects and photographs from her years with her father, she'd had to choke back tears. His old guitar had even been lying against a wall in one of the closets, hidden to keep away painful memories. Mrs. Valerius still had most of his recordings, none of which had ever sold. Raoul had continuously offered his support during the more difficult moments, lightening the mood or wrapping an arm around her shoulders. There was no doubt that her friend had been a great comfort. They'd gotten twice as much work done together than she would have if she'd been there alone. Stacks of boxes sat neatly in every corner of the apartment.

To her dismay, though, Raoul hadn't been able to understand everything. Looking back, she didn't blame him. From anyone else's perspective, she had been nothing more than an innocent victim, kept prisoner by a madman. They wouldn't understand the need for music….or the deep connection…..or the blissful tranquility she had often felt in the little apartment. How could they possibly understand? Even she couldn't completely comprehend it all.

Biting her lip and glancing at Raoul, Christine walked to the door of the apartment and opened it. She stepped out into the frigid night air, feeling as though she needed room to breathe. Months ago, she would have been wary of going outside in the middle of the night. After all she had seen and been through, though, the darkness no longer seemed as threatening.

Out of pure habit, she glanced around for a familiar pair of yellow eyes but saw nothing. Christine prayed that Raoul was right, that Erik was not watching their every move. It wasn't only his anger that she feared. She knew that he would see it as betrayal, and she didn't want to hurt him. After all, she wasn't trying to leave.

Or was she?

With a sigh, Christine walked down the wooden steps, hearing them creak beneath her bare feet. A quarter moon and several stars shown from the night sky, and a chilly breeze rustled the bare trees. The streets and sidewalks were still and silent. No lights were on in any of the other buildings.

What if she did escape? Christine knew that Raoul would stay with her, and she would want him to be there. Would they spend their lives hiding…always wondering if Erik was following? A life of fear.

Or suppose that Erik didn't follow? Suppose she was really free. Then what? Would she resume a normal life? Start school again? Form a relationship with Raoul…one that could be gossiped about with friends? One that involved Friday night dates, anniversaries, and dinner parties?

Although the first scenario was frightening, the second one sounded strangely hollow. Could she really return to normalcy after all she had experienced? Could she completely forget about Erik? Forget all the shared moments between them?

No. She already knew the answer to that question. Even if he didn't physically follow them, his presence would always linger with her. She could never forget. She didn't want to forget.

Why?

Tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, she stared at the empty streets. The wind tossed a plastic bag through the air, before gently setting it back upon the ground. She knew the answer to that question as well. Even Raoul had known simply by looking at her that day. He thought it to be some sort of brainwashing, but her friend still saw it in her eyes. Only now, in quiet solitude and without the influence of anyone or anything, could Christine admit it to herself.

She loved him. In some very strange way, she had connected to Erik. Through music, or loneliness, or something else altogether, she had come to deeply care for him. Life without him sounded empty. Her old life had been lonely and without passion or purpose.

But was this strange revelation enough? He had frightened her on several occasions, to the point where she truly believed that he would kill her. Erik was unpredictable and enigmatic, and she didn't understand what he was doing half the time. Even now, thoughts of that terrible hidden room gave her chills. Only his eyes ever gave her any clue as to what he was thinking.

And the face. What would happen if she saw it a second time? She didn't want to speculate on it. Only a second trial would ever give her the answer.

All she knew for certain was that he loved her. The desperation and longing in his eyes was painfully overwhelming, even terrifying at first. Over time, though, she had grown accustomed to it. She had come to enjoy his company and to look forward to their time together. She had come to love him in return. And she finally admitted it to herself. A warm, lighthearted sensation engulfed her, but it faded as reality came back.

Was it really enough? So many other things were completely wrong. What would ever become of her if she returned?

"Christine?" She turned around to see Raoul standing at the top of the steps, tiredly squinting at her with concern. "Are you okay out here? It's freezing."

She smiled. He looked endearing with his hair disheveled and clothes wrinkled from sleep. "I'm fine. Just thinking things over."

With a yawn, he came down to stand next to her. "Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Yeah. Let's go back inside."

He shivered in the night air. "Sounds good to me." They stood out there silently for several more moments. To her surprise, Raoul suddenly leaned down and lightly kissed her cheek. The tingle of his lips remained on her skin as he pulled back. Christine blinked. "Sorry," he said, sheepishly. "You looked really nice out here."

"I…" She tapered off. "Thank you."

Guilt rushed through her. Quickly pulling herself away from his comforting warmth, she turned and began to make her way back up the stairs. Her friend followed behind, obviously not knowing what to make of the situation.

As they stepped back into the apartment, Christine softly bid him goodnight and re-entered her bedroom. Thoughts raced through her mind, some of which she quickly pushed away in fright or shame. Her sleep was plagued by incomprehensible dreams. By morning, the same questions still lingered in her mind.

Was love really enough?