Continuation from the last chapter. I hope you enjoy. And review!

Though he could not be sure how long he had slept, Erik felt much better when he was awakened by the scraping of a footstool upon the floor. Christine was pulling it closer to his chair, and then she settled upon it, book in hand.

"You were reading this, yes? How do you like the story so far?" Her tone of voice was smooth and level, without an ounce of familiarity. It was as though her madness and their kiss had been forgotten.

"Christine, about before..."

Christine interrupted him. "You must rest, you've lost a lot of blood. I am brewing a tea that will give your strength back. Until then, I owe it to you to play a gracious host do I not?" Sarcasm tinged the words, and Christine struggled within herself. She longed to apologize, to weep for causing him such pain, and to weep for joy at the simple affection he had given her. Such a wall had been built about her heart, however, that even when she longed to she found she could not tear it away.

Erik looked hurt by her distance, but instead of pushing the subject he simply waved dismissively toward the book.

"No, I do not recognize it." He replied quietly.

"Surely you must," Christine insisted. "It was the very book you had left open beside of the table. The one you were reading when I returned." Now her gaze had narrowed suspiciously.

"Ah, yes. That one.." Erik quickly stammered, also a horrible liar. "Please forgive me, I feel quite faint yet and I do not have my wits about me. It is quite good."

"Oh? It has been many years since I have read it. Would you care to give me a synopsis of what has occurred so far?" Christine pushed him, now clutching the book a bit too tightly.

Erik looked everywhere but at her. The fire refused to provide an answer, and so he looked at the rug. Thick and plush, it was obviously a very fine rug. But it, as well, only greeted him with silence. After several moments he felt quite the coward, and so he met her gaze. She was only a woman, and to cower before her was beneath him. Their eyes locked, and in the simple glance all truth was revealed.

Anger welled dangerously within Christine, but she forced herself to simply sit and stare at him. An earnestness was in his gaze, a plea of some sort. Christine could feel it tugging at her, and demons within began to struggle fiercely. At any other moment she would have flown into another fit of rage. That much had been demonstrated already in the kitchen, earlier. Now, however, she found a tiny scrap of calm to cling to and refused to let the turbulence of her mind manifest itself.

"I have given you so much, Erik. Time, training, encouragement. Anything you needed I laid at your feet. How could you betray me in such a way?" The words were barely spoken.

Indeed, Erik had to lean forward to hear her. Surprise flashed in his eyes. How had she known his activities while she was gone? Had she guessed as much? Remorse followed, and he diverted his gaze.

"How did you know?" He queried softly.

Christine was trembling with pent-up rage, but still she managed to keep her voice calm.

"I returned to find you replacing one of them. I had hoped, no.. I had assumed that you had realized it's contents and returned it untouched. You are such a virtuous man, I did not think you could do such a thing."

"Typically I would not have, that much is true. Perhaps now you can empathize with my horror and surprise to find that, not only has someone made themselves privy to my very prayers, but they pretended to be an angel of God!"

It was a strange scene to behold. Two individuals full of anger and frustration at the actions of the other, yet neither lifted their voices above little more than a whisper. Perhaps it was the insanity of the moments before, or the passion of the kiss, but whatever the cause - their physical bodies refused to act out the emotion felt within. Christine was silenced by his retort, and glowered into the fire. She wanted to snap back at him, to explain that it was quite different indeed. Somehow her actions were justified. She only sought to bring him comfort, to produce some sort of joy in a world that had only despised her. His motivations were... what?

"Why? What interests you so? Why bother?"

Erik sighed, a heavy and sad sound that caused Christine to turn to him again.

"Can we not just say that we are even? Your sin is no more justified than mine, and we have both wronged one another. You know my innermost thoughts, and now I know a few of yours. If nothing else, we should be bonded to each other through such revelation. You know me! Do you honestly think I would do it out of ill-intent?" Erik was leaning forward now, with his injured arm cradled protectively against his chest.

"I thought you hated me, after what I had done. How was I to know what you would and would not do out of ill-intent?" Christine retorted before she thought, instantly regretting the spar. Erik refused to be baited, however, and continued to watch her earnestly.

"I want to be your friend, Christine. I know that you despise pity, I have read as much in your very own words. I do not pity you. I feel moved with great compassion for you, and very sorry for all of the things you have endured. I feel compelled to apologize on behalf of humanity for her crimes committed against you, but I know that you would not accept such."

Christine began to speak, to interrupt him, finally standing from her seat upon the footstool.

Erik silenced her however, and continued. "I would apologize, however, for reading your private thoughts. To do so would be a lie, I must admit, but if it would placate you I would do it. I do not regret reading those words because someone needed to! You are brilliant and yet you hide beneath the earth locked away like a rat! It is deplorable to think that you do not even share your thoughts with another person. I cannot tolerate such a waste, I will not." Erik had finally stood as well.

Once the room stopped spinning, he followed after her as she retreated. Finally she stilled at the edge of the lake, positioned with her back to him.

"It may be difficult to hear such words, but I refuse to let them fall upon deaf ears." He reached for her, grasping her slender shoulders to turn her about. As she turned, her head lowered so that he could not see her face. He lifted a hand to tuck beneath her chin, forcing her gaze upwards. What he found within were unshed tears. Sorrow flooded his heart at the knowledge of all that she had endured, and now she stood before him so helpless. Vulnerable, and obviously struggling to keep peace. He could sense her anger and frustration, and attempted to calm her.

"Oh, Christine." He muttered, again stroking her cheek just as a salty tear fell from her lashes to kiss pale cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb, and then kissed the place where it had fallen. Such a familiar act would have been unthought of in any situation but this one.

Erik was a gentleman and would never kiss a woman so brazenly, even after their rendezvous in the kitchen. He knew, however, that etiquette was unimportant to Christine, and that this broken woman needed the token of affection more than propriety. The action caused her resolve to melt and she finally collapsed into his waiting arms to weep.

He held her, eventually hefting her into his arms (against her complaints about tearing his stitches), and carrying her back into the warmth of the parlor. There he settled with her in the chair and simply rocked her as he would a child, singing quiet lullabies into her hair. The peace they found in that moment would not last long. After a meal and sleep, their troubles would return and they would surely bicker again. For now, however, both found peace in the unusual embrace and eventually even Christine slept.