Author note: Alright. . so I'm kind of at a loss. I only got one review from OG and it really made me put off on writing this story for another.

But here's another chapter for those of you who still do read it. Hopefully it'll be more enjoyable.

Oh and to you OG I couldn't tell if your review was in Spanish or French or both. . but I could comprehend it a bit (I take Spanish), so . . .yeah this chapter is for you.

TheDragonEye

Fiendish Love Forsakes

A stifled groan erupted past Erik's lips as he shifted in his sleep, a aching pain spiraling about his body and the noise and atmosphere of the outer world came shooting back to his senses. His eyes fluttered open as the patter of rain reached his ears and he found the room he laid in cast into shadow, a grayish light as it's foreground. All save a glow of candle light coming from a few select places he found it quite satisfying for resting in.

Erik raised a hand to his forehead, feeling the reassuring material of his mask touching his palm before he sat up, or more so attempted to before flopping back against the soft and inviting surface of the bed. He tried to make a guess at the time, but it was now impossible with the imposing rain clouds which had blocked out the sun's light any ways. Well, at least for now he knew that the rain would stop any thoughts of Philippe trying to come back to the manor he now resided in. The muddy ground was awkward for horses to ride in- especially through woods. And footprints were too easily traced in mud.

That was a warm relief for Erik, and plus he preferred to have the sun blocked, he never had bothered to shut the curtains from before. The masked man lay flat on his back for a moment before he stretched, arching his back slightly as he pulled at the muscles in his back. He groaned at how painful it was before he lay back down again- giving a moment for the pain to subside.

'I must look like a leopard with all bruises I feel on my back.' He thought to himself before pushing himself upright. As soon as he did though he froze, spying two brown eyes staring at him from across the room. Erik nearly jumped in his surprise.

"How long have you been in here?" he asked, looking down to see that the sheets and comforter of the bed had been draped over him. He knew for a fact that he had been too tired to move under them.

"Relax, Erik. I've been in here for a couple of hours or so. You really do zone out when you're tired and I'm awfully jealous that you can fall asleep so quickly." She smiled at him and Erik nearly melted at the spot. Oh god, he was falling in love with her all over again! But how could he? He did not comprehend a thing going on. Did she love Raoul or did she love him as she claimed? Was she a spy or was she trying to protect him? His mind twisted with these thoughts.

"Is there any specific reasoning to that?" he asked, once more his voice cold and monotone, just as he had been when he last spoke to her.

Christine's elegant eyebrows furrowed together at the tone. "I told you to relax, not to go about acting and wasting your breath. I came up here to keep an eye on you and only left once to check on Raoul's condition- he has quite a welt on his head. Is that so wrong? I mean, he's one of my few friends."

'Friends?' Erik's face warped with confusion. "Why? Feared I was going to run off somewhere so no one could find me?" he asked once more, hardly missing a beat.

"You've been speaking with Nadir far too much, Erik! I know what you accuse me of, and I cannot see why! I mean, sure the thing with the men was an accident. A accident, Erik! I very much could not move your stubborn backside from your home with the attitude you gave me." She stood up and crossed the room to him, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Erik, please, you do believe me, don't you?" she reached out to touch his face but he turned his head away- a difficult thing for him to do.

"I don't know who to believe anymore- You, Nadir, Darius, nor anyone. Why am I caught in the middle of your twisted games. Why? What the hell did I do to earn Philippe's scorn? It was his own bloody fault for his curiosity which nearly led him to his grave, but he's alive! He's rousing my anger and soon I won't be able to handle it, and every one of you who is in the way will face it as well." Erik snapped.

Christine glared daggers at him and didn't reply for a while. They both just sat there, staring one another down- paled golden-green eyes bearing at deep brown ones in a clash of colors and emotions.

"Turn around, Erik."

"What?" he asked, harshly a bit taken off guard.

"Turn. On your stomach." She commanded once more, when he didn't budge she stood up and took him by the shoulders, forcing him to turn that way. Erik managed a few words of defiance but otherwise did nothing more than squirm a bit underneath her when she moved over him. Her knees to either side of his back.

Her hands trailed down his spine, criss crossing over the scars from the gypsies and the new welts that had formed from his skirmish with Philippe and his men earlier. Her hands then started slowly, massaging his sore and aching back with careful hands- mindful of his bruises.

"Christine, you- stop, you don't need to-" he winced when her hands rubbed at a few sore muscles, his head laying back down against the surface of the bed. "Is this how you win arguments? How- ow, ow, ow!" Erik twisted his fingers into the sheets bellow when Christine purposely dug her nails into his back.

"Be quiet Erik, I'm doing you a favor now stop being such a baby." Christine replied before moving back once more to massage his back. These were all fresh hurts- the bruises, not the whip marks. So Philippe must have gotten him good.

"You were a fool to go after him, Darius is quite grateful though."

Erik didn't answer for the sake of his back and giving a wrong reply.

"Philippe hates you, Erik. He hates you because the damage you caused him." She started, taking a pause before continuing.

"The chandelier incident is the whole cause of this matter. He must hate me as much as he hates you even if he does not show it. You dropped it on someone he loved." She felt Erik tense underneath her hands and she shook her head, her fingers lovingly stroking up his spine and down again. "I know you didn't mean to Erik, but it happened and people died that day. Your head and heart may choose to deny it, but they did and you can't bring them back.

"There was this woman that Philippe had always had his eyes on, they knew each other for quite a while and had become friends. He would have proposed to her, but he was afraid for his family's scorn. Unlike Raoul, he didn't choose to follow his heart and ask. For he was a Count and she had no title, no extreme wealth, and was not the most gorgeous maiden in the world. But you know what love does to a person Erik. But there came along a time when someone else set out to capture this woman's heart. Her name had been Emily and the man's name was Jacobin. When Emily accepted the man's courtship proposal, Philippe turned to Raoul- to protect him from making a fool's choice as he did. But Philippe still loved Emily, just as Raoul loved me.

The night of Don Juan, Philippe didn't sit with Raoul but had not come for the opera, but to keep an eye on him. He knew of our plans and how we planned to steal away from Paris. Same as you. When I ripped off your mask and you dropped the chandelier Philippe looked down in the crowd as did everyone else in the box seats before turning and fleeing. Emily had been there, Erik. She and Jacobin had both been there- floor seats. They were crushed as many had been. The theater isles were not big enough for everyone to flee from those rows and seats. But Emily had died in the arms of Jacobin, a long and slow death they both shared as many others did.

Now do you see Erik? He blames you, me, Raoul, and himself for that. And he will not stop until he has finished his revenge. Raoul he has already finished up, or would have if you did not steal him away. That man has been planting lies, awful lies about me to him. Raoul may not love me as a lover, but he at least cares about me as if I were one in his family. He will come around once the alcohol is completely out of his system. But that habit was brought about by Philippe as well. Erik, Erik don't you see? Do you understand now? All of this?" Christine's hands seized massaging Erik's worn back and looked down at him. "Do you see my love now? I had tried my best to protect you from Philippe. . I know that if you had stayed in your home that he would have killed you there, long and painful. Possibly even using your own contraptions against you."

Erik have a heavy sigh. "That was not my fault. . sure, I knew the rigging would be secured to something stable to prevent us from free falling, but it had to have been a clumsy stage hand, moving about the wrong things which caused my rigging to force the chandelier down. It wasn't my fault." He murmured to himself and closed his eyes- trying to do away with the mental images that her words brought to him.

Such haunting pictures of people being burned alive, brought about by his obsession, his love to Christine! And now he was trying to push Christine away for he knew that she and Raoul still were in love, or were they? His hands moved up, roughly digging into his hair and scalp.

He understood her story, he understood her words and yet he didn't. He couldn't, he just didn't know anymore.

Christine sympathetically rubbed at his back, whispering once more a few words of her love. But wasn't that always a gift to lovers? Promises that you could never keep? Her soft and kind hands moved up to his wrists, gently untangling his fingers from his hair.

"Do not linger on such thoughts Erik. How I knew you would tear yourself up if you heard all of this. You're not the monster you may think yourself as for ripping apart a love. But Philippe made some sour choices and now he is left bitter at the world. Does it not remind yourself of you not that long ago?"

She was right of course, but Nadir kept coming into his mind. The man was a bit untrustworthy of Christine, and he could not forget about Raoul in the other room. Lying on a bed, sleeping off the alcohol in his system. Poor man would probably have to go through withdrawal if he ever wanted to get back on his feet properly again.

Erik's fingers curled around her own in a slowly tightening grasp as he kept his emotions at bay. He felt like the lowly creature he was now. Philippe's words from before sounding so right at the moment. He was nothing. . a beast if at most.

"Erik?"

Erik slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder at her, "How?" he asked quietly.

"'How' what?" Christine asked as she shifted off of him.

"How do I know you love me?" Erik asked and looked away from Christine. He could not help but be a bit distrusting even still.

Christine shook her head and ran his fingers through Erik's dark hair, as if trying to soothe a child after having a nightmare. Erik was practically living one, but he was shoving away all the relief and help he could get at a time like this.

"How?" Erik asked once more, persistently as he turned around and looked up at her. "How?!" his voice having grown a bit more, but was still quivering as he asked.

"People who are in love don't question one another. . it is easily shown to them- words or not." Christine replied, just as quietly.

Erik opened his mouth to speak once more, that wasn't a very secure answer for him, it really didn't even answer what he asked- or at least it was not what he wanted to hear. But before he got a word out of his mouth Christine's lips pressed against his own, her arms snaking around his neck and holding him in the kiss.

'I'll show you, Erik'

Ending note: Yeah. . some good old 'Christine caring for Erik'-ness

Reviews are my muse

TheDragonEye