Erik's POV

Everything was dark, and all I could feel was pain. I had felt pain my entire life, pain from a mask my mother had made me rubbing my flesh away, pain from the end of a whip being cracked against my back, pain of a horrible master sexually abusing me, pain from seeing the only woman I ever loved loving another man-but this pain, this agonizing hell I was in now, couldn't be compared to anything I had ever felt before. For the life of me, I couldn't remember how I had gotten this way, but when I came to, I thought to be in hell. My chest was burning, my feet ached, my head was pounding, and I couldn't seem to breathe normally. Yes, this had to be hell. But beneath the palm of my hand, I felt the velvet of soft blankets. If this were hell, there would be no blankets, and nothing soft to support my broken body.

Over my eyes I could feel something wet, something lukewarm and wet. Curious, I lifted my trembling hand and brushed my fingers along the wet cloth that was over my eyes. What ever the cloth was soaked in was dripping against my eyes and burning it. Carefully, I pulled it away, hoping to shed some light on the situation, but still, everything was dark. My hands began wandering around my body, feeling every part of me to try and remember what had happened. I was beneath a bunch of blankets, wearing no shirt by the feeling of my fingers brushing over the familiar scars covering my body. When my fingers brushed over something rough, just below my ribcage, I paused, instantly remembering the pain I had felt when Raoul jabbed his knife deep into my body. The roughness must have been from a bandage-but who helped me?

I couldn't stay in the darkness any longer. I needed to see my body, I needed to see where I was. Sitting up was the most painful thing to do, and I felt my legs crack upon movement. There were pillows placed behind me, and my hands wandered to the side of what ever I was laying on, trying to strike any familiarity. Cold brass met with my hands, and I traced my fingers along its length. I knew this thing-it was my bed! Yes, my bed! And on my night table I always kept a candle there along with a few matches. My hands frantically felt around until I found my night table, my palm roaming up the thick length of the waxy texture of my candle, while my other searched for the matches.

My fingers found the small, toothpick sized matches and I flicked the top with my fingers, hearing the flame coming alive. But I couldn't see it. I could smell the smoke, feel the heat, but I could not see the flame. I moved the match closer to my face, feeling the heat getting unbearable against my flesh, but I could not see anything. It was then that I felt a burning sensation on my fingers that were holding the match, causing me to drop it and cry out from the sting I had felt.

"Angel-don't!"

I heard a voice, a familiar voice-Christine! I heard footsteps approaching me, I could even smell the familiar fragrance of roses. Christine was the only one who ever smelled like that.

"You could have burned yourself."

Why was she here? Why was Christine here with me? I felt her soft hands pushing me back against my pillows, but it was still dark.

"Ch-Christine?"

"Yes, I'm here with you.'

I laid there on my back, relaxing and trying to concentrate on breathing.

"I couldn't leave, angel." she confessed. "I came back and found you nearly on deaths door. I-I called a doctor, one that Madame Giry suggested. He came down and fixed you up."

"Christine, the lights-please, turn them on."

"Angel-the lights…..they are on."

My heart stopped within my chest. Had I been blinded?

"The doctor said you've punctured your left lung, and that-that you've lost your sight."

I was blind-was I blind forevermore? Would I never lay eyes upon my music or Christine ever again? Was I to live out the remainder of my days in darkness? Alone, and in the dark?

"Fo-Forever?"

"He doesn't know." Christine shuddered. "He said you need your rest, and a lot of help."

"Paris-the mob-"

"They think you're dead. When I found you there was hardly a breath left in your body. We'll stay here until everything calms down, and then I'll find you other arrangements."

"Go home!" I cried. "That's what you wanted, wasn't it? I will not be pitied!"

"I came because I wanted to come. Raoul could have killed you, and he knew how much I cherished my angel. It was selfish of him to do that, and I had to come back and help you."

I felt the wet cloth being placed over my eyes again, and the blankets being tucked back around my body.

"Rest, now, angel."

I didn't say another word, mostly because I couldn't. I was out of breath, and speaking would only make matters worse. There was silence again, silence that disturbed me. I lay there in darkness, only to close my eyes and see more darkness. Why bother sleeping? I would only be met with darkness there too.

I awoke to darkness again, when I felt something being dabbed across the sockets of my eyes ever so tenderly.

"Are you awake?" I heard Christine softly ask.

"Yes." I groaned.

"Good, because it's hard to tell if you are or not. Your eyes-they're so-"

"They're what?" I asked. "Tell me what they look like-I cannot see them for myself."

"They aren't focusing on anything. They're just staring ahead."

"Do they look strange or deformed?"

"No, still the same mismatched tones of blue. Just a little blood shot."

My breath caught in my throat. She knew what my eyes looked like? She knew their exact tones? Had she been paying attention to me that closely over the years?

"How do you know they look the same?"

"I know what your eyes looked like. They always fascinated me-their shade. I've never seen eyes that could be two tones of blue before."

"Hideous, right?"

"No, beautiful."

My heart was pounding against my chest. This was the first thing anyone had ever said to me-the first kind thing. Beautiful? Nothing about me was ever put that way before.

"Tilt your head back." I heard her say, her hand gently guiding my chin up. "Keep your eyes open, I'm going to give you the drops the doctor told me to give you."

"Drops?"

"Yes, he said it will help."

I felt Christine's soft hands place themselves around my head, cradling me as she gently administered the cold drops of liquid into each eye.

"Anything?" I heard her ask.

"No, everything is still dark."

"Why don't you relax for a while and I'll make something for dinner."

"Dinner?" I had lost all track of time. I didn't know the time, but it sure didn't feel like the evening. Perhaps it was because I had slept for so long. What day was it? What time was it? I was going absolutely mad.

"Yes." I felt her lift her body from my bed. "It's nearly five in the evening."

"What day is it? What is the date?"

My voice was frantic. I couldn't help but have it that way. I had not been frightened in many years, but not knowing the time or date made me feel lost.

"It is the 14th day of March- Saturday evening."

"Would you grant me a favor, Christine?"

"What?"

"As long as you're here, with me, would you remind me of the day? Remind me of the day's date?"

"If you wish."

And with that, I heard her walking away. My body was in so much pain, my legs were pounding with agony, and my chest felt as though I had a ton of bricks laying on it. Death would have been more pleasant than laying here now without my sight. At one point, I felt the urge to relieve myself. My bladder was full, and I tried holding it as long as possible, not wanting to call Christine back from the kitchen. Instead, I held it. How embarrassing it would be to tell Christine that I needed to go to the bathroom. No, I couldn't embarrass myself. Instead, I laid there for a while longer, until I felt an uncomfortable pressure from within me. I knew if I tried holding it any longer I would piss myself, and that would be more embarrassing than asking Christine to assist me. No, I was a stubborn man, and so I decided to do this on my own.

In my mind, I attempted to picture where my bathroom was within my lair. It was right past my organ to the right-hand side. I could picture it in my mind from memory, but I knew finding it was going to be harder than I first thought. After throwing the blankets back, I placed my bare feet down on the cold, stone floor. I felt around for anything to grab onto to support me when I stood up, but found nothing. It was a struggle to stand, but once I was on my feet, I slowly took my first few steps, being slow and careful incase there came a point where there was no more floor to step on. I walked on, my hands outstretched in hopes of making contact with my organ, but there was nothing! It felt as though I had been walking forever-where was my organ?

It was then that my knees hit something, causing me to tumble over what ever was in front of me and hit the floor. There was a loud bang, and I rolled over onto my back, my chest aching worse than before. But everything was still black, and as my hands felt around for the item I had tripped over, I felt the hard wood surface of what seemed to be my organ bench.

"Angel!"

I heard my name being called, and the footsteps of Christine running towards me.

"What are you doing out of bed? You could have seriously hurt yourself-are you all right?"

I felt her cold hands lift me up to my unstable feet, and heard the legs of my bench moving across the floor. I had a bad habit of always leaving my bench pulled out. I never put any consideration into pushing it under the organ when I was finished and now I was paying for it.

"Let's get you back into bed."

I felt her leading me away, but I pulled from her grasp. How I hated being treated like a child!

"I have to relieve the piss from my body, woman!"

My voice echoed throughout my home, and then Christine's frightened shudder.

"All right." she paused. "That's all you had to say."

Her deathly cold hands turned me around, and began leading me towards the bathroom. Once inside, her hands moved to my trousers but I'd be damned to let her help me do this! I was hideous below the waist, and to let her see any part of me would only embarrass me. It would be even worse because I wouldn't be able to see her facial expression upon seeing my scarred body in such a way. No, I would never allow her to see me like this.

"Stop!" my hand flew to hers. "I can do this myself, I want privacy."

"Are you sure? It be much easier for me to help."

"No-Please, Christine, at least give me my dignity." I snapped.

Her hands moved to my shoulders, and positioned me in front of what I believed was the toilet.

"You're right in front of the toilet." she stated. "I'll be outside if you need me."

When I heard the door close, I reached into my sleep trousers and felt around until I grabbed hold of my member. After pulling it out of my sleep trousers, I felt around with my other hand, trying to position myself near the opening of the toilet. It was harder blind than when I had my sight. Even when I thought I was in, I still wasn't, causing myself to piss on my trousers.

"Merde!" I cursed as I felt the hot liquid burning into the fabric of my trousers.

"Are you all right in there?" I heard Christine concerned voice, and then the door opening. I quickly fixed myself, and tried to calm my temper before answering her.

"You wet yourself." I heard her gasp. "And got it all over the seat of the toilet."

I felt horrible. I felt embarrassed and completely horrible. It brought back memories of how I used to wet myself out of nervousness when I was a child. When my mother used to yell at me for no reason, I used to look down and find that I had wet my trousers. It was a nervous condition because of how frightened I was of my mother. That same feeling of embarrassment was coming back to me now, the embarrassment of being in such a situation in front of someone….in this case, someone I loved.

"Oh, Christine, I'm so ashamed."

"Don't be. It's all right, come, I'll get you cleaned up."

I felt her cold hands against my shoulders again. It was not good for her to be down here with me. She had a warm body, and because of such a long stay with me, it was turning her like ice.

"You should go." I suggested. "Back up to the real world. Your hands are like ice."

"What? And leave you down here by yourself? No, I won't do it. I refuse."

Once I was sat back down on my mattress, I heard her rummaging through my wardrobe closet.

"Here," she placed what I assumed to be a new pair of trousers into my hands. "You change and I'll go clean up the bathroom."

Changing was much easier sitting down than it was standing up. I easily maneuvered my soiled trousers down my legs and off before sliding the new ones up my legs and over my bottom. A few moments later, Christine retuned, only to hear her innocently giggling.

"What? What's so funny?" I angrily barked.

"Your trousers-they're on backwards."

I did not find this funny, not one bit did I find funny.

"I'm glad you're getting amusement from my blindness! I'm glad somebody thinks it's funny!"

"Angel-I-"

"No! Now get the hell out of here!"

I knew my anger always frightened her. Christine left, giving me the chance to correct my backwards trousers and lay back in bed. Where was I going to be left now? I was blind, and incapable of even going to the bathroom on my own. How was I to ever live by myself? The very thought gave me a terrible headache, so I stopped thinking about it. A while later, I began smelling the wonderful scent of baking chicken coming from my kitchen. I hardly ever used my kitchen due to the fact that I hardly ate, but tonight, tonight was completely different. Christine was cooking for me! Never had anyone cooked for me before.

"I have dinner." I heard Christine approaching me, the smell of that same chicken only getting closer and closer. She must have been carrying it on a plate.

I closed my eyes, and pressed my head deeper into my pillow.

"You can just leave it on my night table." I groaned.

"Nonsense, it will get cold, and you could make a mess of yourself."

How my blood was boiling! But she was right. Christine was being kind and the less mess she had to clean up, the better.

"Maybe just a little, then." I murmured.

I felt her hands gently caress the back of my head, as she began feeding me bits of the baked chicken. I was being fed! By Christine! Without my mask! I slowly chewed my meal, swallowing and taking long sips on the glass of water she continued holding to my lips after each forkful of food.

"Does my face not bother you?" I questioned after a while.

"No, not anymore."

"If it disgusts you, I could understand. You probably cringe, and yet, I cannot see you doing it."

"Never- though, I would like to know your name."

"My name?" I questioned. No one has ever called me by Erik, by my real name before.

"Yes, if I'm going to be taking care of you for a while, I would at least like to call you by your name and not by "Angel."

"It's Erik."

"Erik." Christine tasted it on her tongue, the mere sound of it sending my soul flying.

"Did you eat?" I questioned.

"No, I wanted to feed you first."

My poor Christine, feeding me before herself. I could have eaten two more helpings of her delicious meal, but I didn't want to hold her up any longer.

"I'm full, thank you." I said. "It was delicious."

"You're quite welcome. Would you like me to sing to you for a while? Perhaps read you a story until you grow tired?"

Oh, how wonderful that sounded, but I couldn't be selfish. I was just lucky to have her here. It wouldn't be right for me to request anything more of her.

"No, that's very kind of you but-" I paused. "I'm very tired- I think I'm going to rest."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, my pain is giving me a lot of discomfort."

But like the angel Christine was, she didn't just leave me. No, she propped up my pillows, even placed a few beneath my legs. Oh, how comfortable she made me feel.

"Goodnight, Erik, sleep well. If there's anything you need, please call me. I'll be out in the other room."

And then she left me. In light or darkness, I wasn't sure, everything was still dark. But that night, as I fell asleep, I felt safe in knowing somebody else was here with me, Christine was here; my protective angel.

Please review! I probably won't update again until my Cloaked Under the Night Story is complete. Won't be too long now.