She was numb. She could no longer feel anything. Christine watched day after day as Erik came in and out of the room. She didn't stare. She would glance at him as he walked. As soon as he spoke or looked to her, she averted her eyes. She was no longer worthy of his loving gaze. He would bring food in for her and sit it on the nightstand, but she wouldn't have anything to do with it. Christine was never hungry.
She didn't speak. She feared if she were to open her mouth that she would never stop screaming. Christine hardly slept, but when she did, she only relived the horrors of that night. She didn't cry anymore. There was nothing left to cry out. She tried her hardest to keep her mind blank. When it failed flashes of Raoul played through her mind. His voice could still be heard. His breath could still be felt on her skin. Only at that time did she shift her body in the bed.
The mourning was unbearable. She had lost too much. Her mother. Her father. Her child. It was only a matter of time before Erik would be gone too. Rightfully so she would think. Erik deserved so much better than her. He deserved someone that wouldn't flirt with another man for attention. Erik deserved someone more patient. Someone that wouldn't fly off the handle when things didn't seem right. He should leave her. He was too wonderful for Christine, who had brought this upon herself.
It was appropriate that she slept in the coffin. She planned to die there. She wanted it to be all over. She couldn't stand the thought of moving on without her child. She didn't deserve Erik's love, and if she had to live without that love then her life would be meaningless.
It had been two weeks since the incident. Erik was unsure what to do at this point. What was left for them here? Raoul had been moved up above and placed in an asylum a week ago. Erik did not know which one and that was for the best.
Christine could feel Erik's presence looming in the doorway of the room. He leaned against the door frame. He wanted so badly to take her in his arms, but Erik feared she would break if he touched her.
She laid there staring at the wall of the coffin when she heard footsteps coming down the hall. Christine wouldn't look though. Nothing piqued her interest anymore, but she acknowledged in her mind that there was now a third persons in the home. She heard Erik's voice speak softly. "How soon can you have the summer home ready for us?"
"Two weeks at the most." She heard Phillippe's voice reply. "Are you sure that this is what you want?"
"Please don't ask me that. Right now, my answer is yes, but if you ask me again it is sure to change." Erik replied.
Philippe nodded. "I will make it happen then brother." She heard Philippe walk back down the hall then out the front door. Erik sighed still watching her. He walked into the room and stood beside the coffin looking at the untouched plate. He thought of pleading with her to eat but he knew that it would be no use. He looked down at her. Christine still just stared straight ahead at the coffin wall. Erik bent down to stroke her cheek. He prayed for some kind of reaction just so he could know that she was still in there.
Christine didn't pull away, but she cringed. That wasn't the reaction Erik wanted. It was still a reaction he supposed so he wouldn't complain. He quickly pulled away and sighed again holding back tears. "Please, mon ange. Fight this. Reviens vers moi mon amour." He whispered to her. She gave no reply. No sign that she heard him. With a heavy heart he took the trey from the nightstand and left.
Everyone in the company was stunned to hear that Christen had left. Madam Giry had told them that her husband's family needed them in the country, and they decided to stay for the foreseeable future. Everyone at the opera knew that Christine had married in secret not too long ago. There were those that believed it to be some mysterious stranger, but the majority theorized that she had married the Opera Ghost. The disasters stopped not long after she came back married, so it was very believable. They could all see that Christine was perfectly happy however, so no one questioned it. No one questioned when Madam Giry told them she would not be back. It wasn't that they didn't care, no, they were happy to know that she was happy.
They didn't know though. How could they? None of them knew that Raoul was sitting in an asylum still pleased with himself. No one knew that Christine was currently sitting in a carriage going down an old country road. Everyone in Paris smiled thinking she was happy. In the depths of her mind she wished she could be happy. She wished she was able to feel. No one would ever know exactly how numb she felt. It was like a switch. The pain was at one point unbearable. She didn't want to feel any of it. It was as if she flipped the switch and now there was nothing. Her world felt dark. A small part of her cried out to feel something, anything, but now it was too dark to find the switch. She felt lost.
Erik prayed that this was the best move for them. He studied her from his spot across from her as she stared out the window. Thunder rumbled over head threatening to rain on them before they reached the new home. Erik remembered how Christine hated storms. She would always flinch at the sound of the thunder. There wasn't even that now. There was nothing. Apart of Erik worried that he would never get his wife back, and he was slowly accepting the fact that he might not. He vowed to her for better or worse, and he wouldn't leave her no matter. Erik was thankful for the time he had already had with her. It was more than he ever thought he would have with anyone.
It was a fairly large home Erik had moved them into. The Chagney summer home had not been used in some years, not since the brothers were young. Erik's last family memory here was when he was sixteen. He was twenty-eight now and wished with everything in him to go back to those simpler times. Erik let out a heavy breath as he shut the door to the bedroom. Wishing was useless. Wishing would change nothing. It wouldn't make Christine want to get out of bed. It wouldn't bring back their child. Wishing was pointless.
Philippe had insisted on allowing Erik to keep on some of the staff from the town. Erik didn't like the thought of being waited on. He had grown accustom to his independence. Erik allowed hands in stay on the keep up the land and the animals. The home was originally a farm. The Countess insisted on spending summers at the home to teach her boys about hard work. Erik remembered him and Philippe waking up with the servants a few times a week to help with the work. If they hadn't finished their work by noon they were allowed to go do whatever their hearts pleased. The two often made it a competition as most little boys do. Erik knew that he would have no need for a cook or a housekeeper, but his farm skills were rusty and was never very good with most of the animals.
The first week at the house it did nothing but rain. Erik thought it was as if Mother Nature herself was mourning with them still. His mind was no longer silent, but he couldn't bring himself to write any of the notes down. He wasn't sure if he wanted to remember any of this. Erik spent his days putting the new home together. Placing furniture and unpacking books. Christine still didn't speak or look at him. He kept his routine of cooking for her and placing it on the nightstand, though he knew she wouldn't eat. Everyday he walked into the room with the hope today would be the day she came back to him. He remained restless. Erik had never really been one for much sleep. Before their marriage he would go days without sleeping or eating and never notice, but with Christine it was different. Christine unlike Erik needed those simple things. With their marriage he grew accustom to her schedule and did his best to make it his own. He would sleep when she slept, and he would eat when she ate. It was different now though. So, Erik spent his nights much like he spent his days. Arranging and unpacking. One day his Christine would return to him and when that day came their new home would be ready for her.
Tonight, Erik found himself in the study rearranging how William's books were sorted and getting rid of the ones he disliked or already had. He would place them in a trunk that Erik would send back to Paris when Philippe came next. Erik sighed closing then tossing another book into the trunk. He glanced at the clock on the cluttered desk. 9:26 it read. He had dropped off Christine's supper hours ago now. He had truly lost track of time. Erik walked out of the study then down the hall to the bedroom. When he opened the door, he blinked several times to make sure he was not just seeing things.
She was asleep. Christine was in what seemed to be a true deep sleep. Their time sharing the same bed Erik had studied the different types. He smiled to himself. It was the first time in so long she looked peaceful. Erik stood there a moment longer watching the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. No nightmares, he thought.
He pulled himself away from the door and went to the tray of food. The old Erik would have looked at the new and scoffed at the hope that rose in his chest at such small things. The broth was near gone. She had eaten tonight. It was a start he thought to himself. The tune in his mind changed a little. Still cautious though. It was still hesitant. It was a start though he kept reminding himself. After the dishes were washed and put away, he journeyed back to the bedroom where she still slept. Erik took a book and sat in his chair by the fire. He felt he should stay tonight. He feared whatever peaceful land her mind was currently in could turn villainous quickly. He wanted to make sure he would be there to wake her. To save her. Protect her. It was his job after all. He fingered his wedding band a moment then looked back to her. He was her husband after all.
It was a rather dreamless sleep. When she woke, she couldn't remember much of it. The only thing she remembered was a feeling of peace. That was better than the numbness she had felt for a month and a half now. It felt so much longer though. She slowly opened her eyes. She watched Erik's back as he walked out of the room cracking the door. Christine looked to the table with a tray of breakfast. There were two slices of warm bread, jams, and a cup of tea that was still steaming. After a few moments she sat herself up and decided she would eat. As she ate, she looked around the room. It was certainly more extravagant than the one in Erik's underground home. The fireplace was the same size as the other one, but it was designed with red and ivory vines on either side. She looked to the wall to her left to find great glass doors that led out to a balcony that had yet to be fixed as nicely as the rest of the house. She scrunched her nose at the curtains that hung there not liking the floral print.
Christine sipped on her tea and thought. The last month has been such a blur. She remembered things in flashes. A part of her wanted to stay in the bed. One more day she told herself. Just one more day, but something screamed no. A voice told her, get up and start this day. Christine let out a deep breath as she set down her teacup. Get up she screamed at herself. If a voice in your mind could grow horse after so much shouting, she wondered how long it would take the voice to get that way. Pushing that thought aside she obeyed the voice and pulled back the bedding to climb out of bed. Christine walked over to the bathroom and drew herself a bath.