Obligatory disclaimer - I do not own any of the Characters or plotlines of Phantom of the Opera, they of course are from the genius of Leroux.
A/N Thanks for the encouraging reviews! There is quite a little surprise at the end of this chapter. Thanks so much to Terpsichore, who has already made herself invaluable to me.
Author – KatieKay90
Beta – Terpsichore314
Title – Unforgiven
Chapter 3 – Rescued
Erik pushed his way past the heavily armed agents that blocked the door to the deserted little cabin. The sight that met his eyes had him stagger back in abject horror. "Christine," he called out in an anguish-filled voice that made even the most cynical agents feel a pang of sorrow for the half-masked man. Recovering himself, he crossed to where the two paramedics were administering aid to an unmoving, almost lifeless Christine. Kneeling down at her side, he took her cold hand in his as if to transfer some of his life force to her. "Christine, I'm here. Don't you leave me Christine," he said firmly as he grasped her hand tightly. "Don't you dare leave me again!" Erik knew she was a lying cheating adulteress, but God help him, he could not deny his deep love and need for her.
Nadir stood with John at the cabin entrance as they watched the tragedy unfold before them. Nadir feared that they had arrived too late as he took in the condition of Erik's wife. Please God, don't let her die, he prayed silently for the benefit of his long-time friend.
Mike rushed into the cabin a moment later, and took in the situation with one glance. "How is she?" he demanded of his team.
The senior paramedic, Ron, looked up briefly towards the agent in charge and gave a slight shake of his head as if to let Mike know that there was little hope for his patient. "We need to get airborne now if she is to have any chance," Ron said gravely. "She is dangerously dehydrated," he added, and expertly inserted an IV into Christine's vein to administer fluids quickly.
"Let's get her aboard then," Mike replied with hardly a pause, and he began to shouting out rapid-fire orders to his agents to ready the helicopter for take off.
"Shouldn't we try to get her breathing stabilized first?" Marcus, the junior paramedic asked as he prepared Christine for air transport.
"No time, we can work on her in the chopper. If we don't get her to a hospital for a transfusion in the next twenty minutes, I don't think that she will pull through," Ron predicted grimly as he placed a breathing mask over Christine's mouth and nose, giving it a gentle squeeze as he listened to her lungs with his stethoscope. "Good breath sounds," he said, pleased that there was at least some small bit of good news.
Erik kept his tear-filled eyes trained on Christine's pale features, willing her to just hold on.
"Okay, now let's get her covered and aboard the chopper," Ron said as he reached for the shiny silver thermal blanket in which to cover Christine. Once he had her securely fastened to the gurney, he motioned for Marcus to lift the gurney. "On my count, one…two…three," Ron said, lifting his patient with the aid of his fellow team member. As they quickly exited the cabin into the frigid, dark January night, Erik kept his tight hold on Christine's hand, as if she would be lost to him forever if he dared to let go.
John followed Nadir as he ran towards the helicopter. "I'm going to stay here and see what evidence they uncover," he informed Nadir as they watched Christine being carefully loaded onto the chopper.
Nodding his head in agreement, Nadir awaited his turn to board. "Give me a call with any new information you uncover," he yelled over the roar of the whirling blades.
John waved his hand in agreement as he backed away towards the cabin that would hold the answers to find the people responsible for Christine's abduction. Turning towards his old friend Mike, he heaved a sigh of regret. Regret that they may have arrived just a few moments too late. Too late to save a life that held so much value to a man who lived his life behind a mask.
Erik sat with his hands gripped together as he stared unblinkingly at the mint-green-flecked tile of the hospital waiting room floor. God he was tired, he admitted to himself for the first time in five hellish days. Five days in which he could neither eat or sleep. Five days filled with unending gut-wrenching fear. But most unbearable of all was the five days of his utter failure. Failure in his duty to protect the one person who was most precious to him on this earth, his Christine, his wife. Because even though they were estranged, Erik knew he could not love another the way he still loved Christine.
Nadir ended his hushed conversation with John as he turned his attention to Erik's unmoving form. "Erik," he called out softly.
"What time is it?" Erik asked in a hollow tone which attested to the bleakness of his emotions.
"Two-thirty," Nadir responded as he glanced at the large clock on the wall.
"That means she's been in surgery for over six and a half hours," Erik said more to himself than to his companion.
Frowning in concern, Nadir knew that Erik was nearing a breaking point. "Erik, when was the last time you got any sleep?" he asked quietly.
Erik allowed himself a slight smile. "My guess would be about the same time as you," he said knowingly.
"I'm going to see if I can arrange a private room for you to wait in," Nadir said as he rose to seek out the hospital administrator.
"What did John have to report?" Erik asked dispassionately, delaying his friend from his self-appointed task.
Nadir slid into the chair opposite Erik as he began to tell of the latest developments in the case. "So far they have just confirmed that Carl and Lela Myers were at the cabin. While they did cover their tracks well, they did make a few mistakes," he said with a sigh. "There have been several sighting of the Myers, but as of yet none of them have led to their capture."
"Anything else?" Erik asked as he lifted his head to look into the exhausted face of his friend.
"Madeline has left several messages for you," Nadir began cautiously as he knew that Erik's mother would not be a welcome interruption at this time.
"Shit!" Erik let the involuntary curse slip as he thought of his meddlesome mother. "Keep her away Nadir," Erik warned with a frustrated shake of his head.
"I will," Nadir assured Erik. "Janet is also working on a press release for the morning news shows."
"Okay," Erik said wearily.
Rising from his chair, Nadir stretched his tired muscles. "I'm going to see about that room," he informed Erik as he walked towards the hallway.
Erik only nodded his head as he continued his silent vigil. A vigil that would ultimately determine the course of the rest of his life.
"Good work everyone," doctor Shawn Tanner called out to his surgical team as he removed his bloodstained latex gloves. Turning to his resident, he barked out several instructions. "Keep an eye on her pressure; if it goes any lower, I want to be paged immediately. Also I want to continue infusing her with warmed saline as well as two more units of blood over the course of the next two hours," he said as he walked towards the operating room exit.
Sharon Kendrick quickly wrote down Dr. Tanner's orders onto Christine's chart. "Do you want to start her on Demerol?" Sharon asked as she walked alongside the city's top surgeon.
Discarding his surgical gown, Shawn considered Sharon's suggestion. "Let's hold off for a bit; the anesthesia shouldn't wear off for another hour, and I'm afraid that if we start her on pain management therapy she won't wake up as soon as I'd like," he said reflectively.
"Okay," Sharon said as she began to remove her own gown. "I'll stay with her and page you when she starts to wake up."
"Thanks. Now I need to find her husband," Shawn said absently as he started in the direction of the nurses' station only to be met by the hospital administrator.
"Shawn, may I have a word?" Tim Ryan inquired as he regarded his chief of surgery.
"Sure, what has you here at this time of morning?" Shawn asked as he walked with Tim towards a small private conference room.
"Your patient actually, Christine Mansart," Tim said succinctly. "Mrs. Mansart is the wife of Erik Mansart, as in Mansart Technologies," Tim said with a probing look.
Shawn's face showed enlightenment as he identified the name Mansart as the same as the new state-of-the-art pediatrics wing. "I wasn't aware," Shawn said simply.
"Yes, well, in light of the situation we want to make sure that you have everything you need to ensure that Mrs. Mansart receives the best possible care," Tim informed his chief carefully.
Shawn was slightly taken aback by the unsubtle implication that Mrs. Mansart receive specialized treatment over any other patient who might walk through their doors. "Tim, let me assure you that ALL my patients receive the best care possible," Shawn responded in an offended voice.
Tim had the good grace to look somewhat censured. "I have no doubt, Shawn, but as Mr. Mansart is a very generous benefactor to the hospital, the board and I just wanted you to know that we are making Mrs. Mansart's recovery our top priority," Tim said, further emphasizing the underlying message.
After seven hours of intricate surgery, Shawn decided just to ignore the offensive nature of the conversation. "Can you tell me where to find Mr. Mansart?" he asked Tim with a weary sigh.
"We have him waiting in a private room on the sixth floor," Tim responded quietly.
"All right," Shawn said as he headed for the stairwell.
Tim rushed after the fit surgeon, silently cursing his preferred use of the stairs as they were four levels below the sixth floor.
Erik looked down at the specially prepared tray that the hospital staff had brought to him thirty minutes earlier. Standing up from the small table, Erik crossed to look out at the twinkling lights of the sleeping city.
"Erik, you should try to eat something," Nadir's concerned words broke the silence.
"I'll eat when I know that Christine is going to be all right," Erik responded woodenly.
Releasing a dejected sigh, Nadir pushed his own half-eaten tray away. "I thought that the doctor said that the surgery should only take five hours, it is going past seven hours now," Nadir complained as he gave in to his frustration at the endless waiting.
Erik allowed himself a small smile at the end of his friend's remarkable patience. "Let's give them fifteen more minutes and then find the administrator and get some answers," Erik suggested with a layer of steel to his tone.
Nadir was spared from responding as a soft knock was heard on the closed door. "Come in," Nadir called out.
Shawn pushed open the door to enter the private luxury suite the hospital reserved for its most eminent patients. "Mr. Mansart?" he inquired as he approached Nadir.
"No, I'm Nadir Khan, Mr. Mansart's associate," Nadir responded automatically.
A red-faced, out-of-breath Tim entered the room a short moment after Dr. Tanner. "Mr. Mansart, Mr. Khan," he greeted between gasps for breath.
Shooting Tim an annoyed look, Shawn turned his attention to his patient's husband. "Mr. Mansart, I'm Shawn Tanner. I performed the surgery on your wife Christine," he said as he held out his hand to the strange half-masked man.
"Dr. Tanner, how is Christine?" Erik asked with an uncharacteristic tremor to his voice.
Shawn motioned for Erik to join him at the small seating area. "We have her stabilized." Shawn began with the good news. "She has a very deep stab wound that runs from her left shoulder to her upper chest," Shawn informed Erik as he demonstrated the length of the cut across his own shoulder and chest. "She was very lucky that the knife missed the main artery to her heart," Shawn said with a look of amazement, as he in all of his twenty-two years of medical experience had never seen such a deep wound miss its intended target so egregiously. "With all of that said, we still have several concerns to address. Christine lost over half of her blood volume; it is a miracle that she survived that alone. We have the cold January weather to thank for slowing down her blood loss. We are still giving her a blood transfusion, and I would predict that we will need to give her several more units," he said as he rubbed his jaw tiredly. "Now we need to move on to our biggest obstacle, infection," Shawn said with a seriousness that caused Erik's hands to clench into tight fists.
"Infection?" Erik said as he regarded the physician with a sharp stare.
"My estimate was that the stab wound was inflicted over three days ago, and with the lack of medical attention a serious infection has set in. We are giving Christine heavy doses of antibiotics to combat the infection, but it has entered her bloodstream so we have a real battle on our hands," Shawn ended as he studied the reaction from his patient's husband.
Nadir looked down at the floor, unable to watch the look of abject fear in Erik's eyes for one second longer.
"Is she going to die?" Erik at last voiced the question he had been dreading to ask.
Shawn felt a sharp clutching at his heart as he viewed the intense pain of the man who had been through hell and back in the course of the last several days. "I don't know, Mr. Mansart," he responded honestly. "We need to see how she responds to the antibiotic treatment."
Nodding, Erik looked down at his tightly clenched hands. "May I see her?" he asked with a shuddering breath.
"Yes, of course," Shawn said as he rose from his chair. "She is in ICU, when you see her she will be hooked up to several monitors. We also have a tube down her throat to help her breathe," Shawn warned as the headed towards the elevator in deference to his out-of-shape colleague.
Erik merely nodded as he entered the elevator.
The ride was completed in silence as the men exited the opened doors towards the glass-enclosed ICU. Once they reached its entrance, Shawn paused and turned to face Erik. "Mr. Mansart, we need to keep Christine as calm as possible," he advised Erik.
"I understand," Erik said wearily.
Nodding, Shawn pushed open the door and motioned Erik to precede him towards Christine's bedside.
Erik drew in a sharp breath at the sight of his beautiful wife. "Christine," his voice broke, as her name literally tore from his lips in an agonized whisper.
Sharon looked up sharply at the sound of Erik's tortured whisper. "Dr. Tanner," she greeted her boss as she gave him a quizzical look.
"Dr. Kendrick, this is Mr. Mansart, Christine's husband," Shawn informed his resident.
Sharon held out her hand to the man she had read about in the tabloids. "Mr. Mansart," she greeted him, thinking that even in his grief he was an impressive man.
Erik absently took her hand without looking away from Christine.
Shawn picked up Christine's chart and began to review the latest set of vitals. "Has she shown any signs of regaining consciousness?" he asked Sharon quietly.
"Not yet," she said as she retrieved a chair to place beside Christine's bed. "Here, Mr. Mansart," she offered to Erik considerately. "You can hold her hand," she said with a knowing smile.
Erik slowly sat down as he tentatively took hold of Christine's hand. His heart jumped when he felt her hand tighten in response to his warm touch. Bending his head, he placed a reverent kiss on her hand that expressed the true depth of his love of her.
Several monitors began to accelerate in their incessant beeping as Christine's head began to move from side to side.
Shawn handed the chart off to Sharon as he walked over to Christine to lift her eyelid to shine a small penlight into her blue eyes. "She's coming around," he said in a clinical voice that galvanized Sharon into action.
Pushing the nurse call button, Sharon prepared for Christine's reemergence into consciousness.
"Talk to her, Erik, let her know you're here," Shawn suggested as he took Christine's pulse.
Erik tightened his grip on her soft hand. "Christine, I'm here," he said, all of his love revealed in his voice.
Christine's chest rose as she took in several deep breaths. Opening her eyes, she was alarmed at the number of strangers that were hovering around her. Panic began to set in as she realized that she had a tube down her throat as well as several wires that were attaching her to monitors that were sounding various alarms. Trying to rise, she found that her arm was immobilized against her left side.
Shawn, seeing that his patient was in the throes of a full-blown panic attack, began speaking soothingly to Christine. "Christine, you're safe. You are in the hospital. Your husband is here," he said calmingly as she caught his gaze with a frightened look.
Christine began shaking her head from side to side in an agitated manner.
"Christine!" Shawn said sharply. "You must listen to me, you need to stay calm," he said as he looked into her eyes that were beginning to glisten with tears. "It's okay, Christine, you're safe here," he said in a kinder tone.
Erik saw a tear well in her eye and escape to trail down her cheek, and felt as if someone had kicked him in the stomach. He felt her suffering as though it were his own. "Christine," he called out to her pleadingly.
Christine looked up at the strange half-masked man, wondering why he was here. Looking back towards the doctor, she motioned at the tube down her throat.
Shawn, seeing that she wanted the tube removed, nodded to Sharon. "Okay, Christine, I will remove the breathing tube if you promise to do everything I tell you," he stated with an encouraging smile.
Nodding her head, Christine indicated her acquiescence to the doctor's instructions.
Sharon handed off a pair of gloves to Shawn as she motioned for Erik to stand at the foot of the bed.
"Okay, Christine, on the count of three I want you to take in a deep breath and then blow as hard as you can," Shawn said as he unhooked the monitor to the intubations tube. "One…two…three." Shawn pulled the long tube from Christine's tender throat, and she coughed as she began to take in several deep breaths.
"Good, take in slow even breaths, that's it," Shawn said as he patted her knee encouragingly.
"What happened?" Christine asked in a hoarse raspy tone with an anxious look upon her bruised face.
Shawn could not hide the look of concern that crossed his features. "Christine, don't you remember what happened?" he asked her gently.
Shaking her head, Christine tried to remember what had brought her to this place. "Was I in an accident?" she asked ingenuously.
Erik drew in a sharp breath, realizing that Christine had no recollection of the hell that she had undergone. Walking towards her right side, he took up her hand in his. "No Christine, you weren't in an accident," he informed her with a slight smile.
Frowning up at the stranger who so boldly held her hand, she asked the question that had been plaguing her tired mind since the moment she woke up. "Who are you?"