Thanks again to Lizzy for helping me find balance. Om.

Your reviews have been greatly appreciated as the tone of the story changed and Christine and Erik evolved. Thanks for checking out my first exploration of an E/C. I appreciate the feedback!

Rose20

Dread seared through Erik's insides as he curled Christine's hand into a fist around his hairpiece and slowly moved her hand back, removing the last of his defenses. He couldn't look at her as the cool, damp air hit his real hair and scalp.

For a long moment he stood paralyzed, waiting for the nightmare to end, for his life to begin where he last remembered rational thought: The day before Hannibal.

He'd had no intentions of doing anything rash the day before the performance. Like every other in his lonely existence he knew he would work on his music and pay a visit to Christine, who was prepared for a bigger, more prestigious role on the stage.

And then the unexpected had happened and a lonely, terrified man became a desperate and dangerous monster, one who was still very lonely and terrified of losing his student.

Erik's grip on Christine's wrist grew tighter, his desperation unbearable. "I've dreaded this day," he whispered, his voice barely strong enough to speak. "This day you would see this."

Christine's eyes had turned glassy, her lips pursed tight. She dropped the hairpiece behind Erik's back where it lay forgotten, unneeded. Like the monster he was, Erik had frightened her terribly and yet he couldn't turn back. Their games of make believe had come to a frightful end, and like a rat trapped in the corner he could only face his demise. The only hope he had now was that she would find the mercy in her heart to kill him quickly.

"My poor mother," he mumbled, still holding her wrist tight. She felt oddly cold now, her hand limp as she faced her fate. "Always running away from me."

A tear slipped down Christine's cheek and Erik became aware of her free hand gently stroking his ear and cheek, her slender fingers cool against his burning flesh.

"I won't run," she promised.

His shoulders slumped, his back bent in defeat. "From the first time I saw you, Christine, I knew if we were to meet it would come to this. I expected it would be before a great deal of people…all of them watching, waiting in horror. The screams, Christine…can you hear them?"

She shook her head and bit her lip.

"They're always inside of me; that's why you can't hear them. And now that you're here, Christine, I'm afraid I cannot allow you to ever leave."

"You don't mean that, Erik."

"I do, Christine," he whimpered, so afraid that she would crumble in his grasp, that the living girl would indeed become his dead wife.

"You're trembling," Christine said timidly, making no attempt to free her hand and wipe her eyes. She stepped closer, her gaze trained on his, the look of horror he desperately searched for nonexistent. "Sit with me. I'll grab a blanket."

She was beyond repulsion now, Erik told himself. He'd killed the innocence inside of her, murdered the young woman he loved as much as he knew how to care for anyone. What would become of her now?

"I frighten you," he said.

His grasp had loosened and Christine easily removed her arm from his hold. His breath caught in his throat as he waited for her to turn and leave him, but she didn't move away. With more gentleness than he'd ever known, Christine placed her hands on his cheeks and cradled his face.

"You've demanded much from me," she said, devastating him.

Knees weakening, Erik fought to stay standing as his eyes clouded with tears. He hated himself for spiraling out of control, for losing every aspect of his illusion. What was once an enigma was reduced to a pathetic, pitiful creature stowed away in darkness, begging for one scrap of kindness, one moment of charity.

"I never meant to hurt you," he sobbed, attempting to pull away.

Christine came with him and together they sat on the steps. Neither of them spoke for a long time, and the only indication that Erik had of Christine's presence was her hand over his.

"Do you hate me now?" he asked at last when his throat ceased aching and the tears had finally dried. Anger pricked beneath his skin, the realization of what he'd done and how he could never return to the pleasant fantasy of their mock lives causing his jaw to clench.

"I will never hate you," Christine replied, "as much as you hate yourself."

With a ragged sigh, Erik nodded. Her words were painfully real, agonizingly true. No one would loathe him as much as he despised the man who was always there, mirror or not, masked or unmasked.

"Then where does this leave us? Where will the path lead us now, Christine?"

With her hand still in his, Christine half-smiled. "Do you know when I have been frightened of you?" she asked.

Erik lowered his gaze and refused to answer, expecting a list longer than he could remember.

"When you shouted at me the first time I removed your mask. Your anger frightens me, not your face," Christine replied. She leaned against his shoulder, the warmth of her body at last providing comfort. "When I first came to live here, I was often told of the opera ghost that dwelled in shadows. The dancers often scared one another with tales of a yellowed-eyed monster, of a creature with skin like parchment and a hole for a nose."

Erik stared at her, unsure of whether she mocked him. His hand slid away from hers but Christine wrapped her fingers around his wrist and made him stay with her. The gesture provided a glimmer of hope on the darkest night he could recall.

"I don't see a monster," she said as she kissed his shoulder.

Erik closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "What do you see, Christine?"

Her soft lips planted kisses along his neck and ear, her caress comforting rather than enticing. She was good to him; better than he'd ever imagined, sweeter than he'd dreamt it. Months, perhaps years would pass before he felt he deserved a moment of her time, but there was hope at last.

Christine's lips found his, and as she held her hand to his scarred face, he knew what she would say before the words left her mouth.

"I see potential, Erik."