An ache

Coils itself in me

A tremor

Finds its way through me

Save me

Soothe me

Teach the ache a reprise

Turn the tremor to a quake

They wait for you

to coil yourself in me

To find your way through me

Raoul held me close in the back of the carriage while the chief of the gendarmes across from us, watching us with a blank expression. Raoul's fingers brushed through my tangled curls and I wondered if he could smell Erik on my skin. I knew I could, and it was the only thing keeping me calm, keeping me from throwing the door open and jumping out of that carriage.

"Oh, Christine, I'm so sorry. It's alright, you're safe," Raoul kept murmuring. "Don't cry dearest, it's alright…" There were tears streaking down my face, but they weren't for myself. I prayed with all my heart that Erik had escaped, that he was far away from the gendarmes, hiding somewhere safe and warm until he could come for me. If he was caught, he'd be killed. If he was killed, I knew that my life would have to end shortly after. There was nothing without him anymore. "We're almost home, love. My loveliest Christine." Raoul pressed a kiss to the top of my head and I almost shuddered.

Finally, the carriage bumped up against the curb before Raoul's grand house and the gendarme rose to help me out of the carriage, Raoul following close behind. He took my arm immediately and I kept my face down, only feigning exhaustion. Truthfully, the quiet times between making love last night had been the most restful I'd had in months. I only looked up when I heard Meg's high voice shout, "Christine!"

"Meg!" I held out my hands and Meg grabbed them, pulling me inside. Raoul's hand moved to the small of my back.

"Oh, Christine," Meg said when we stood in the entryway. Madame Giry had arrived and was taking my cloak from me and handing it to a servant. I couldn't meet her eyes. "I'm so sorry that I was mad at you! I've been so selfish. I forget how much you've gone through, and now! Now, after everything, he took you again. I'm so sorry!" Meg was crying, her round face covered in red blotches of emotion. I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed.

"Meg, it's alright. You will always be my best friend." I carefully avoided talking about Erik "taking" me.

Raoul cleared his throat. "I must speak with the chief, love. I'll be up to check on you in a moment." He kissed my cheek and disappeared with the chief into his study.

"You'll want to get out of that dress, Christine," Madame Giry interrupted. "I will help you."

"I will, too!" Meg said.

"No," said Madame Giry, "Meg, I want you to tell the kitchen all of Christine's favorite foods. She should eat. I will take care of her." She looked at the servants when she said this, as well as Meg. They all curtsied to her, ever the boss.

Madame Giry took my arm and led me up the stairs, quickly. I braced myself for her interrogation, for she knew very well that my official story was false. Once in my room, she locked the door and spun toward me. "Tell me what happened."

With a sigh, I sat in front of the unlit fireplace. It was chilly in the room, but I couldn't gather the strength to start a fire. "No," I said.

"Christine," she knelt in front of me, her hands on my knees, "I can't help you if you don't tell me. Is the Opera Ghost dead?"

"No!" I balked at the thought.

"But you were with him last night?" Her voice said that it wasn't really a question. I nodded. "The whole night?" Again, I nodded. "Have you… Christine, did you give yourself to him?"

I thought about lying, but she would know. She always knew. "Yes," I whispered.

Madame Giry sat back on her heels and dropped her face into her hands. "You've ruined us all, Christine. How could you do this?"

"I love him." It was enough for me, and I didn't care if it wasn't enough for her. I loved Madame Giry, and I respected her, but this was my life's happiness.

"This will not end with Raoul blessing your marriage to the Opera Ghost, you selfish child." She sounded so tired that her words held little sting.

"I know. We have a plan, but I don't know what it'll mean for you and Meg, I'm sorry. Raoul will be just fine." My words about Raoul were harsh and bitter. "Perhaps Erik and I could send you money, once we've settled. He says he has somewhere…"

"Where?"

"I can't say."

"You can't, or you won't?"

"I can't. He didn't tell me, but I wouldn't tell you even if I did know. I'm sorry."

""""

Raoul paced the room, glass of brandy sloshing onto the carpet now and then. He was dressed impeccably, his beautiful eyes enhanced by the glow of the fire and the spark of anger. The chief of the gendarmes thought his features were a little too delicate to be taken seriously, his skin a bit too soft to intimidate. The only thing serious about the vicomte was his family, and that was all that the chief respected. He'd seen the vicomte show great bravery on the night of the opera fire, but the man himself was too caught up in that little singer. Like many in Paris, the chief thought the vicomte was very egregiously being taken advantage of by a pretty little money-grabber.

The vicomte's voice was a growl as he said, "Consider your next words very carefully, chief. What exactly are you trying to imply?"

"Monsieur, I spoke to the, uh, proprietor of the Fluer. She told me that… forgive me, but she told me that Miss Daae was there willingly. That she spoke for the monster when they requested a room. She went up with him, stayed for a few minutes, left. Then, she returned last night, by herself."

"Obviously he had threatened her somehow. Come, they're whores, they don't understand!"

"That may be, but Vicomte… She was there with him for an entire night, and I don't mean to be impertinent, but the ladies heard some things. Things that make me want to question Miss Daae about how exactly she was imprisoned."

"Shut up! You mean to tell me that they think she… to think that any woman would ever willingly… it's abhorrent!"

"Quite, sir. I am just asking to question the mademoiselle… clear up any suspicion, as ridiculous as it may be."

Raoul stopped with his back to the chief, staring down into the fireplace. He stood still so long that the chief started to fidget in his chair. "Vicomte?" he said.

Raoul slammed his free hand into the mantle, so hard that the other man jumped. Then Raoul threw back his brandy, slammed the glass down on a table, and growled, "No one will be speaking with my wife. She's had a terrible experience, and every time we think we're through with this thing, he comes back into our lives like an angel of death. Find him, kill him, but do it without Christine. And do it soon. Good day." Raoul stormed out of the room before the chief could even think to remind him that Christine was not his wife yet. Still, the gendarmes couldn't lose the support of the vicomte.

""""

Although I knew that I had no love left for Raoul, I also felt great shame at the fact that I broke my word. I gave myself to a man who was not my betrothed. So, when I heard Raoul's footsteps on the stairs, I knew that I had to tell him some semblance of the truth. I couldn't tell him everything, of course, but maybe if he knew I didn't love him anymore, it would make my leaving a little less painful for him. At least, I hoped he could move on a bit more quickly. Madame Giry agreed that he was owed some explanation and stood by my side as we waited for Raoul's knock on the door. We both jumped when it was thrown open.

"Leave us," Raoul barked at Madame Giry. She glanced at me, and her surprised expression must have matched my own. "Now," Raoul said, holding the door open. After a moment, Madame Giry walked out of the room without a backward glance. I looked worriedly after her, but Raoul shut the door firmly.

"Raoul? Are you alright?" I asked.

"We're getting married, Christine." He said it so matter-of-fact that I couldn't quite understand what he said at first.

"We're... ?"

"Getting married. Today, now."

"But Raoul, I-" Before I could say any more, he'd rushed forward, too fast for me to prevent it. His hands caught the sides of my face and his lips slammed into mine, hard enough to bruise. I gasped and his tongue forced its way into my mouth, thrusting deep. I tore my face away, but his hands brought it back and I couldn't fight him. I whimpered, then screamed against his mouth, tasting alcohol. My scream seemed to snap him back to himself, and he released me so suddenly that I fell backward, landing on my bottom in front of the cold fireplace.

"Oh God," he whined, his hands tangling in his hair. He looked mad, his eyes bulging and the veins in his neck standing out against his skin. "Christine, I'm sorry. Here," he held out his hands to help me up, but I pushed them away.

"Don't touch me," I whispered.

I saw his eyes fill with tears. "Christine… I just love you so much. I'm scared, love. Terrified that if I don't touch you every second, you'll disappear again."

His words did touch some place in me, and I could see he meant them, but this was the second time he'd assaulted me. Not to mention what he'd done to Erik. "I don't know you anymore, Raoul."

"I'm me, Christine! I'm still me." He fell to his knees in front of me, putting our eyes on the same level. "I just want you safe. I don't ever want to lose you again. You've made me wait so long, Christine, and now it feels like you're slipping through my fingers. Marry me." I couldn't say anything, and it took all my strength to shake my head. "Christine… aren't you afraid of the demon from the opera?" Everything in my being shouted for me to tell him no, that I loved the Opera Ghost, but Raoul was unstable. His eyes were filled with fear, but something else, too. He looked like a man waiting to be executed. What would he do to me, to Erik? He might lock me up, then I'd never see my angel again. Swallowing against the bile in my throat, I nodded. The look in his eyes cleared a bit. "I don't want you alone, ever. Not even to sleep. I can't stay with you if we're not married; the servants would gossip and no one in society would accept us." My eyes widened at that. After everything, he still cared what the society thought? How could I ever have thought I belonged in his world? "We have to get married."

How could I get out of this? He looked so determined, his eyes hard, jaw set. "But Raoul," I stammered, thinking fast, "we can't get married like this, out of fear. What would the town think?"

"That I loved you…"

"They'd know we did it because of what happened today… or they'd think I was with child… either way we can't look like this is changing us, right? GIve it time… a week." I smiled at my genius. In a week, Erik and I would be across the world!

"No, we can't wait. I don't want you alone…"

"I'll stay with you during the day and at night, Madame Giry can stay with me."

"But she's old, she can't protect you."

"Meg, then. I don't feel comfortable with anyone else staying with me. Please, between Meg and I, we can fight long enough for you to come save us." I steeled my courage and put a hand against his face. He sagged into it, his eyes closing. "Please love, give me a week. Then we can marry without scandal."

""""

Meg was happy to sleep in my quarters with me, and it actually reminded me of when we were little, sleeping in the dorms in the opera house, giggling as Meg climbed under my covers, freezing me with her toes. We'd stay up for hours, talking stupid talk about things that didn't matter. Tonight, though, we had to talk about the most important thing in my life. In 24 hours, Erik was coming for me, and Meg would be here. Could I have snuck out without her knowing? Yes, but I couldn't risk her seeing us and jumping to conclusions. Besides, she deserved to know.

"Meg," I whispered into her hair. She was curled up on her side, facing away from me, deeply asleep. "Meg, wake up."

"Mmmhm?" she moaned, turning toward me. "You alright, Christine?"
"Meg, you're my best friend. Am I your best friend?"

She blinked the sleep from her eyes and narrowed them at me. "Of course."

"I love you no matter what. Do you love me no matter what?"

"Yes, Christine, what is it?"

I took a deep breath and said, "Meg, I'm going to tell you something, but you have to promise me you won't say anything about it, to anyone. Not your mother, and especially not Raoul. Do you promise?"

"I promise."

I told her everything. From the first time I dreamt of Erik after the fire to last night, when I gave him my whole self. Being Meg, she gasped often, asked questions, said, "Oh no, Christine," every time I spoke of lying to her and Raoul, and finally, forgave me. She was young, romantic, a dreamer, and thought Erik's story was terribly sad.

"But he's a murderer, Christine!" she said after I'd finished my tale. "I know he's done much for you, but you can't forget that he's killed so many. Isn't he dangerous, still?"

"Any man is dangerous, but I believe that he did what he did in some kind of journey toward vindication. I know it doesn't make much sense, but everything he's done is so we can be together. And Meg, when we're together, it feels like nothing bad has ever happened in the world."

She shook her head. "I don't know."

"Meg," I took her hand and pleaded, "trust me. He's good. Anything he's done that was evil, was done out of desperation and fear. I have to believe that. He has never hurt me, never tried to hurt me. He gave me a choice, and I have finally made the right one. That's more than Raoul has done."

"But if you go… will you be safe?"

"Of course. My angel will protect me." I scooted closer so that I could look in her eyes in the moonlight. "Meg, I would feel more in danger if I stayed here with Raoul after what he's done. My only chance for happiness is if I leave with Erik tomorrow night. Will you help me?"

After a few moments, Meg nodded.

A/N I'm not sure what the equivalent to a police chief would be to the gendarmes, so I just used "chief." Can anyone tell me what the correct term is?