H'lo, everyone! Here's Chapter 3! Still don't own the characters, by the way. Enjoy! ) (Happy Erik loves you!)

Christine then hurried out of the room to find me some food. I wondered dimly whether the kitchen was clean. When had I been in there last? What had I done? Did I straighten up afterward?

No. I had left the kitchen a mess. Vaguely, I recalled staggering in there several days ago for a glass of water. It had been inhabitable anyway, and I'd spilled something all over the floor.

Of course! Me! Always so neat, so organized, and now Christine would think that I never even cleaned my kitchen!

As I worried about my filthy kitchen, Christine managed to fix me some thin broth. She brought it back to the room and pushed several pillows under my head and shoulders.

"Christine," I groaned as she sat on the edge of the bed, stirring the broth gently to cool it. "I am so…sorry."

Resting a hand on my burning cheek, she smiled sadly and inquired, "What has my little angel done now?"

"I must apologize…for the state in which…I have left my home…You mustn't think…I am always this…untidy."

Christine burst out laughing. "You're ill! Of course you aren't wasting your strength on housekeeping! Now, come on. I think you should have something in your stomach. You'll feel much better."

With one hand behind my head for support, Christine slowly spooned the broth into my mouth. It was all I could do not to choke on it. Swallowing was agony! After half a dozen spoonfuls, I simply could not go on. "Christine," I rasped, "please stop. I just can't…My throat is on fire…And I'm starting to feel…a bit…dizzy. May I lie down?"

"Oh, of course! Of course, my dear." She took away the extra pillows and helped me down into a horizontal position.

"Erik, you look so uncomfortable. Isn't there anything I can do to help you?"

"Your presence…is soothing enough…my angel."

"Well, that is terribly kind of you to say, but please let me do something." She thought for a moment, then said, "Let me wash you up a bit; bathe you. You won't even have to get out of bed."

I did not want her to take care of me in that manner. In her eyes, I wanted to appear strong and invulnerable to such mortal blows as illness. Of course, my last request to her would have led Christine to see my lifeless corpse, yet my soul would have already been gone. She would not have had to bear witness to the sufferings of the weakened man, Erik. And I would not have had to see her crying.

She was crying presently, as she pulled back the blankets that covered me and tenderly removed my sweat-soaked shirt. Ever so gently, she took a second cloth from the bowl of water that she had brought earlier and rubbed it on my neck and chest. However humiliating it was, the bathing was infinitely refreshing.

Though she was obviously horrified at how thin I had become in the past three weeks, Christine continued to move the cloth across my body. She worked her way down my arms and over each trembling finger.

The cloth soon reached my waistline and Christine became fully aware of how unclean I had allowed myself to become. She was silent for a moment, then she scooped my frail body into her arms and held me tightly. "Oh, my poor, poor Erik! You should have said something! Don't worry, darling. I'm here; everything will be fine." Christine, tears glistening in her sapphire eyes, laid me back against the mattress. She then kissed my forehead and stood. "I'll be back as soon as I find something dry to wear."

She was gone before I had a chance to protest. But no. I would not allow my little angel to change my clothing!

How had I sunk so low? How could I have gotten to this point; too weak to relieve myself properly and too miserable to care? Of course, the answer was obvious. Christine. It all came back to Christine. After she left with de Chagny, I had no desire to eat and I could not sleep. I wept for days on end, until there were no tears left. Exhausted, I lay on the bed in which she had once slept, clutching a dress I had purchased for my "wife". My wife! How could I have ever thought that an angel like her could love a monster such as me? I cared nothing for my own well-being any longer, and therefore let my health deteriorate. I was shattered mentally, as well. Christine Daaè was my last hope; my last chance at a life of peace after a lifetime of pain. She left me all alone in a darkness that had crushed the very life out of me.

At least it would soon. Or would it? Christine was back with me. She had told Raoul to go away when I asked her. I had long since come to terms with the fact that my angel would never have any true feelings for me, but was it possible for us to be friends? Just knowing that she was near made everything seem less frightening. I could easily survive, albeit unhappily, if Christine remained nearby.

My thoughts were interrupted as footsteps became clearly audible; Christine had returned. Ignoring the pain in my throat, I called to her. "Christine! Christine, please do not…do this…I beg of you…If you do…I shall die of…humiliation!"

"Darling, why? You're a mess. I have to clean you up."

"No, please!... Let me preserve…whatever…remains of my dignity."

"Erik, it's only me. You mustn't be so concerned about your dignity."

"No, Christine…You are the one person…for whom I must be brave. Above all,…you mustn't see me weakened or…helpless. I want to be…so strong for you…so perfect…everything I can never be…rich…handsome…"

"Shh. Stop talking, angel; you need to save your strength. And for heaven's sake, calm down. I will always think the world of you, and seeing you in this condition can't change that! It only pains me. Oh, Erik, I should never have left you!" She was stroking my horrible face, an experience that felt lovely, especially for someone as starved for affection as I. "Let me care of you. You mustn't be ashamed to accept my help. Please, Erik."

I did not resist, but said nothing.

Christine went to work, singing a lullaby that I had once sung to her. I tried to concentrate on her voice, but the humiliation I felt as she removed my soiled clothing made me want to cry. I wished I could just crawl away under the bed and die.

She began to clean me the way one would wash a useless infant. I could not bear all that was happening. Being so ill, Christine's return, the loving treatment I was receiving at her hands- My heart was bursting with both love and misery! Helplessly, I began to sob.

The next thing I knew, my head was in her lap and dear Christine was softly kissing my face. "Hush, angel," she whispered. "Everything will be alright. Just let me finish cleaning you, and then we can rest a bit."

She dried my eyes, then returned to her task and her song. I lay in silence, thoroughly ashamed of my situation as Christine helped me into a clean pair of trousers.

What do you think? Please let me know!