Christine was nervous. Erik was both expectedly eager, and firmly demanding, nothing would outmaneuver his inquiring mind, she would try to select her words carefully.
She steadied herself, breathing in she began "that morning, when you were standing outside of the carriage, we watched as the man approached you from around the side of the house. We were scared, but thinking that the officers would protect you should he draw a weapon. When he started screaming his accusations, we became terrified that we'd been found…that it was over." Christine paused "it was then that I retrieved the gun from under my skirt."
Erik looked at Christine "where did you, no, how did you get it? I had it stowed safely inside my jacket?" Christine smiled, rubbing his hand "do you remember my giving you one last embrace, running my arms about your waist before we left our room?" Erik smiled back at her "ahh, I see…go on."
Christine continued, "I drew the weapon to the window, believing I'd at least have one clear shot at the man if he moved toward you. It was then that I noticed Joseph pulling a knife from his belt, pressing it into your side. I decided then and there, that he was the present danger, and without much training I'd have a better chance of marking him, than the other man."
Erik smiled at her "without training, as you say so carefully explained, how could you be sure it was not me that you would shoot?" Christine gave Erik an annoyed look, obviously he had calmed himself enough now to toy with her.
"When I realized that Joseph had intended to use you as a shield…I….it just happened. The noise inside the carriage made our ears ring. I watched as the bullet shattered his clothing, his blood splattered everywhere." Christine looked down, feeling as though she would vomit. She had never taken the life of another breathing creature, and the very retelling of it sickened her.
"It was instinct…to protect what I loved." A single tear now running down her cheek. "It wasn't until I peered out the window that I realized you had fallen also." Christine fought back her urge to break down and sob. "It wouldn't be until much later, as the doctor was tending to your injuries, that the entire story unfolded. I had shot Joseph, Claire had shot the man from the woods, and…." Christine paused looking deep into Erik's eyes, "Nadir shot you." Erik's hand went limp. He was quiet for a moment. Erik sighed, responding reflectively, "that is why you said he had to forgive himself."
Christine was relieved that there was no trace of hostility in his voice. "He had meant to shoot Joseph, but he had pulled you in front of him in the last seconds. Your left side took the brunt of the bullet. It pierced your intestines, your…well, the doctor no doubt gave you those details." Erik was still rubbing her stomach, his brow was not furrowed, she would go on.
"Three of you hit the ground at nearly the same moment. Joseph, did not suffer, he was dead as he hit the ground. I take some comfort in that." Christine's lip quivered…she'd have to live with the blood of that man on her hands forever.
"The man, I believe they called him Simon, lost a great deal of blood, and nearly lost his foot in the process. I dare say he suffered the most at first as he never lost consciousness, until the doctor administered some ether. He is recovering, but the shoemaker now is a regular stop of his as his legs are no longer even." Christine paused, "Claire never flinched, she did what she thought was right in her eyes, and would do it again tomorrow."
Erik laughed, in the few hours he'd known Claire, that sounded just as he would think she would say, especially being Nadir's sister. "When the physician examined you…" Christine let go of Erik's hand, standing up to turn her back to him, both hands drawn to her face. Erik heard a loud sob as Christine's shoulders began to shake. He was silent. He would be patient with her.
"He came out of the room, shirt bloodied, sweat running down his neck. He told me that he'd done all he could, but doubted that you would make it to sunrise the next day." Christine wiped her eyes, turning around to face Erik. "Nadir was inconsolable, nearly suicidal at one point. He knew it was an accident, but blamed himself anyway." Christine came to rest next to Erik on the bed.
"The next eight hours are a blur. I remember all of us standing around you, holding hands, praying…the doctor joined us…and he was a man of little faith!" Christine looked at Erik, the intensity of those memories burning in her eyes, "during those hours you were in the company of angels, teetering between this world and theirs."
Christine paused, breathing in slowly. "All we could do was pray that infection did not set in. Your innards had been splayed, so many things could have happened. After the eighth hour, you became restless. I sat by your side. It was I that first noticed the large stain of blood pushing its way through the bandages about your middle. The physician ordered me out of the room, a rush of helpers as he called them were brought in, and the door was barred so no others could enter. We sat waiting outside…." Christine grew pale, her gaze grew distant. She'd fought this memory every day he'd been sleeping.
"We heard screaming…hideous screaming…and then paralyzing silence. After another half-hour, the doors moved, the physician reappeared, this time taking me to one side." Christine looked down at Erik, a wave of fear washing over her. There was no way around this, she had to tell him. He'd already made it clear he wanted to talk about it.
"Erik, we had to make some decisions. I being your wife, they were left to me to make." Christine felt her lips quivering again, betraying her nervousness.
"What sort of decisions do you speak of?" Erik looked at her, swallowing, having the distinct feeling he did not really want to know the answer.
Christine said, "I am tired Erik…so terribly we continue this…"
"NO" came his abrupt answer. "This will not be any easier for me later, in fact it will only prolong my misery, as you obviously have something you fear to tell me. Do you not think that I would drive myself quite mad wondering?" Erik looked both terrified and angry, his heaving chest pulsing unevenly under his staggered breathing.
Christine closed her eyes, praying that he would forgive her, praying that he would understand why she had done it. "Go on, do tell me now," Erik encouraged her. She swallowed hard, rising to get a sip of water, wringing her hands, wiping them on her dress before returning to his side.
"Erik, there was a broken vessel, now I am no physician, but I understood the basic principals of what he explained. There was too much missing, you'd lost too much blood. If it were not repaired, you would have bled to death." She paused, looking away, and then back at him. "He'd….the physician…read of new techniques that were being employed in the Americas, experimental of course, but they had been showing much promise."
"Yes, yes, do go on, to what point does this lead?" Erik's annoyance obvious in his tone.
"Your mask had been discarded…" Christine began slowly. Erik's eyes growing wider with each sentence. "The physician noticed a large bulge just above your right ear. He'd seen this condition before in medical books." She couldn't look at him, how could he bare hearing her call his disfigurement a condition? "The condition results in extra growths of skin and vessels, so much so, that they often overtake the normal skin, covering it with a leathery, uneven surface." Christine paused again, still not being able to look at him.
Erik's mind working ahead of her words, his hand instinctively rising up to cover his right cheek. Christine closed her eyes. "He asked me if I wished to see my husband live to the next day…" she sobbed, "and I said yes, yes of course." What came next she could barely bring herself to say. Erik saw the distress in Christine's face, her body contorting as she wrestled with herself to find the words to tell him what they had done. "Erik, it was the only way to save your life." She was wiping the tears from her face, looking down at him.
His hand moving over the surface…it had not been his imagination. "What did he do Christine?"
She held his hand, reaching up she put her other hand over the one covering his face. "He removed a large portion of the growth, harvesting the vessels and some of the flesh to repair your wounds. He said he would know within hours if it had worked, if the bleeding stopped." Christine steeled herself for the question that she knew was coming next.
Erik sighed, feeling his side. "I assume that it was a success, and the doctor should be congratulated then." He glanced up at her, and she down at him. There was a brief moment of silence, and then it came. "May I see it?" Christine pressed her eyes shut, she had to tell him the rest. How could she tell him that he'd become an experiment for this surgeon? "Erik, it would be better if we waited until you were…" His responding stare gave her his answer, he was not going to wait if he had to rise and find the looking glass himself.
"Erik….you need to know more…." "What more Christine? The surgery saved my life. The surgery changed my appearance and I should like to know the results…what more is there to know?" She shuddered, this would not be easy. "The first surgery took hours, and yes, as you so cleverly pointed out, it did save your life. After several days, when you did not wake, we began to worry that you might not at all. With your treated wound healing well, the doctor turned his attention to the one he had created on your cheek."
Erik scowled, "what do you mean he turned his attention to it?" Christine hesitantly replied "it had started to grow a bit of infection, and the skin was very irritated for having been disturbed. He explained that this condition would only progress, covering even more of your flesh unless it was treated." She stopped, hoping he did not want to continue, but again she was wrong.
"Treated how so?" Christine sighed, there was no way out…she had to explain. "He began removing the tissue as it grew. Each day, he would remove any new growth, suturing up openings, trimming and the like." Erik scowled again, but did not interrupt her. "One day in particular, he had to remove much more than he wanted to, the part attached to your ear." She said motioning toward it. Erik's hand running along the newly sculpted curve. "In order to correct this, he had to continue to remove the flesh that followed down the length of your ear, behind it, and to the side."
It was starting to make sense to Erik. She took a deep breath and continued. "Over the course of the next five weeks, he tried to correct it, to keep the advancing skin from taking over, at one point sending off to Germany for special ointments and creams to help the new skin that was growing beneath the flesh that had been freed from the growth." Erik's hand ran over the parts that he thought he had felt were now smooth.
"And what of this, my eye, how is it that it no longer tugs?" Christine looked down to his stomach. "One part of your body helped another, and in the end it returned the favor." "Whatever do you mean?" Erik looked puzzled. "The doctor removed a part of skin from your abdomen, attaching it to the raw flesh of your cheek."
Erik blinked. He was curious. Yes, part of him was furious, while he had slept, they'd cut him up as a fowl on a serving platter, but at this moment he was mostly curious. He looked wide-eyed at Christine, expression blank. "It was a week or more before the skin seemed to attach, later parts absorbed into the flesh of your face, others had to be trimmed away." She exhaled, she told him the worst of it, the only thing left was to show him. She'd hoped they were weeks away from ever having to do this, but she was certain he would not rest until he could observe it himself. Erik was never one to move slowly once he had set his mind to something.
"Bring me a mirror Christine, I must have a look at this new sculpture." She winced. It was not completely healed. Marks from the stitches were still deep red, new hair was just beginning to grow in the scalp that had been released from the grips of the spreading flesh. He looked somewhat like an unfinished portrait, and she feared it would frighten him. "Christine, please…if you are able to tolerate looking upon me, I am certain that I shall be able to do the same." His voice was calm, his words steady but firm. If she did not do this for him, he would find a way when she slept, she was certain of that.
Christine stood, walked to the door and left the room. Erik could only hope that she would return with what he requested.
She was down the hall not half-way when she passed Madame Giry's room, the door slightly ajar. "Christine?" she heard her call as she came to the door. Madame Giry opened it, the question she wanted to ask was answered by the look on Christine's face. "He wants to see it doesn't he?" Christine nodded. Madame Giry moved to her vanity, retrieving her mirror, handing it to Christine. "It will be alright my dear, he is a strong man. As long as he knows you still love him, he will learn to accept it." Christine glanced back at her, smiling slightly and departed into the dark of the hall once more.
Erik waited patiently, his curious hand now running over ever detail of his face, comparing the dips, ridges, curves of each cheek. His head turned as Christine came back into the room, baring a large filigreed handle, attached to an oval mirror. She walked over to him, putting it on the side table. Before she would let him see it, she wanted him to know she loved him, just as much now, as she had before, the change in his face did not change her feelings for him, nothing would.
She reached out kissing his forehead, his chin, lips, neck, ear, and finally his right cheek. "Erik I love you. Not your flesh, but you my husband, the you that I see when I close my eyes. No physical change will alter that. You are my husband, father to the child that grows within me, and I shall always love you….do you understand?" Erik reached out and grasped her hand. "And I love you my sweet Christine. Do not delay, please let us put an end to this mystery."
Christine was still hesitant, but could delay no longer. She kissed his cheek one last time, and handed him the mirror. She did not want to watch, but could not pull herself away. She would face this with him.
Erik swallowed hard, holding the mirror on his chest, closing his eyes. He mustered his courage, slowing raising the mirror bit by bit. He saw first his chin. That looked the same. His lips, they were still his. Every bit he raised it he saw more normal looking flesh, dotted here and there with red dots from stitches. He kept raising it until it was at the height of his ear. He sighed. He had to know, and patience was for the weak. He flipped the mirror up the rest of the way and gazed upon the reflection. He reeled back, pushing his head further into his pillow, for there staring back at him….was a…..man. A