Chapter 35- Cat in the Cradle

The night had been a long one and at six in the morning Christine was almost positive she had not closed her eyes once. Every time she had tried the thoughts of Gabriele came swimming back to her and with it the knowledge that Erik was the reason that she did not have her home. The night had also been a cool one, far cooler than the past few weeks, and she was lying with her blankets twisted around her body.

Part of her had expected Erik to come to see her in the night, somewhere deep down, she had wanted him to. There was a terrible hurt inside her that only intensified the more she thought about him and, the more she tried to get rid of it, the deeper it dug itself into her heart. For the first time in months her heart felt truly heavy, as if everything she had achieved was now worthless and meaningless- a waste of time.

She was hurt.

The lump she had finally managed to make go away only moments earlier had somehow managed to crawl back into her throat. She wanted to cry, felt that she should but in a strange way knew that she could not. There were rehearsals to do, costumes to put finishing touches on, cast members to meet
with and Carlotta to defer to.

This did not change a lot- she still hurt.

Inside part of her suspected that Gabriele had found out about their relationship and had made up the story about Erik to hurt her. The more she considered this theory the less plausible it seemed. Gabriele was, after all, a man of business. He would not deliberately hurt her, it was not worth any money to him, so to make something up would be pointless.

Christine was no fool, she knew that Gabriele telling her was all down to something about Erik. He wanted to get to Erik, not to her.

Still, she was sure both of these things would now happen.

The fact that she had not seen Erik since the previous morning did not concern her, when he said he had business to attend to he was usually gone for a day. Now, at least, she knew what business it was.

She felt manipulated and used, her chest was tight and aching, she held her hand to it in an attempt to stem the pain but the flow continued relentlessly. Erik had allowed her father to get into debt with him in order to take everything he had, his pride, his money and his home.

All were gone.

In the process he had hurt Christine.

Her father had always been the most important thing in the world to her, he had been her rock, her guiding star and her light. Her father was her hero and her protector and Erik was in some parts accountable for his death. She was in no doubt that in the end her father had simply lost his fight.

Erik and Gabriele had taken it away.

It was then that she heard the knock on the back of the mirror, the sound Erik had used recently to signal that he was there.

She said nothing and let him enter.

He stepped through the mirror and his face looked solemn and tired. She stared up at him from her bed.

It was a moment before he spoke.

'You look tired,' he said, there was little warmth in his voice.

'I am,' She hoped that her voice was equally as cool.

Erik tilted his head to the side, light from somewhere slipped along a line of his mask, he looked down at her and frowned. Usually he sat down but today he remained standing, just looking at her.

'Why are you so tired?' he asked, his eyes seemed darker than usual.

'No sleep,' she answered.

'What's wrong?' It was a question but the look on his face suggested that he might already know.

'Why did you do it?' she asked him, not frozen with fear, not terrified he might hurt her, she did not think anything could hurt her more than she already felt.

'Do what?' he frowned, for the first time looking confused.

She stared at him. 'My father...'

'What about him?' his voice was sharp, losing patience.

Christine did not answer, she simply looked at him, frowning, waiting for him to finally be honest with her.

'Were you with the Vicomte last night?' Erik asked, his eyes dipped deeper into shadow, they looked almost black from where she was lying.

'How dare you,' She said quietly.

He lifted his eyebrows, not in surprise, but in a gesture of mocking her. 'How dare I?'

She nodded. 'You have no right to ask me such questions,'

'I know you saw him,'

'And what?' she snapped. 'Why does that matter, what is it to do with you?'

'You love him?' he spat angrily but he did not move.

'I didn't think so,' she said. 'Until last night, until I found out about you... until you crushed me...'

He paused, eyes on her but his frown deepened. 'Crushed you?' His voice was quieter now.

'Yes,' she choked, feeling her chest swell with pain as if she was about to burst.

'Tell me,' he said, cold. 'Ma chere, how was it that I crushed you?'

'My father...'

'Stop saying that,' He growled. 'You and the boy, the Victome...'

'Is nothing to do with this!'

'Is everything to do with this,' He countered quickly.

'Nothing,' she whispered, feeling her eyes well with tears. She did not know what he was talking about, she did not care. 'You took my home,'

He frowned. 'Your home?'

'My father's house,' She said, feeling the reality of the words dry her mouth. 'You took it,'

When he said nothing she wiped the tears from under her eyes and took a long, deep breath. 'He borrowed money from your little company and you took his home when he died. You left me with nothing. How could you do it? How could you...'

Suddenly, he looked calmer, almost lost. His eyes had lightened a little, the angry frown had vanished and was replaced with wide eyes. This was a look she had not seen on him before, the look of surprise, the look of recognition.

'I don't know their names,' He finally stated,

'It doesn't matter,'

'I didn't know you,' Erik said. 'I didn't know him,'

'And that makes it alright?' She asked, staring at him, refusing to blink, refusing to back down.

'He owed me money,'

'How could he ever pay you back?' She sighed, looked down at her hands. 'How could he pay you back when he borrowed so much and had so little?'

'He had a house,' His voice was soft.

'My house,' She said. 'My home,'

'I didn't know,'

'How could you not know?' She demanded.

He shrugged. 'I put the money in and get my return, I don't ask any questions,'

She shook her head, tears dripped from her face, they were flowing freely now. 'How could you...'

'Its business, Christine,'

'It's people's lives,'

'You forgive me murder yet you don't forgive me this?' He snapped. 'Hypocrisy,'

'I am the hypocrite?' she stared at him and then, shaking her head. 'Perhaps I am, perhaps all that matters to me is me but that should be enough, Erik, you claim to care, you claim to care more than anyone yet... my father...'

Erik said nothing but did not look away yet he did not look right into her eyes, it seemed he had no trouble meeting her gaze.

'You killed my father,' The tug she felt in her heart was hard and unpleasant.

'Your father died,' He replied. 'I did not kill him. You have not answered for your actions, you and Raoul de Chagny...'

'Are none of your business,' She interrupted.

'You admit you love him,'

'I admit nothing,' Her heart thumped. 'You can't turn this around Erik, I have no guilt to feel but you... I cared, Erik, I cared for you and you did this? How can I ever forgive you? How can I ever forget this?'

He said nothing.

'Go,'

He blinked. 'What?'

'Get out,'

'Christine...' His voice had softened again, the softer it became the harder it pulled at her soul.

'Leave...'

'Listen to me,'

'No, I can't,' She said. 'I can't forgive you.'

He closed his eyes. 'Please listen, I didn't know,'

'You think that that matters?'

'Yes,'

'Well, it doesn't,' she said. 'Whether you knew or not it happened,'

'Christine...'

'Please, just leave,' She managed to get the words out before a sob caught her off guard. Her hand flew to her chest but the pain came again, the heart break.

'I can't leave you like this...'

She looked up at him through a film of tears. 'I'm not asking you,' She gasped. 'I don't want to see you again, I don't need your kind of help... I need you to leave, I'm telling you to go,'

Erik stood there for a moment, silent, staring at her. When she did not look up at him he walked towards the door and turned to look at her again. Part of her was expecting an apology, expected him to be sorry... she should have known better. Maybe if she had had the courage to look at him, to see his beautiful eyes, to see the softness of his lips, the broadness of his shoulders, maybe he would have said sorry... maybe she would have forgiven him.

But she simply couldn't. Nothing could make her look at him. The only thing she could focus on was that this man had caused the death of her father, whether he knew it or not, and that was unforgivable.

Scott had just left after trying to talk Laurent into staying on another month for the fourth time that day. He had told him he was wasting his time but Scott, being Scott, had tried all the same. Now alone he looked out of the window at the dark sky and wondered how his sister's new show was coming along. Scott had told him all about it and he had been quietly envious that Scott was going to the performance the following night.

Laurent did not like to say so but he actually quite liked to attend the opera. He had been with Gabriele on a few occasions and as much as he hated to admit it, he had basically enjoyed every single one.

The night had come earlier now, a sign that the end of summer was coming close, and the sky was black. He walked to the doors that led out to a small balcony and opened them, breathing in the fresh air as it entered the room. In all of the time he had been staying at his sister's house he had not opened these doors, too afraid to show himself.

When he stepped out he immediately felt uneasy and spun around to look to his right. On the railing around the balcony sat a dark clothed man wearing a white mask.

This was trouble.

'Erik...' He swallowed as he felt the bile creep into his throat.

'Good evening,' Erik said, eyes twinkling in the evening light.

Laurent had been waiting for it, waiting for someone to find him but as it happened, this was completely unexpected.

Why was Erik Lambourne here?

At least with Louis he could run, he could hide, he could attempt to fight back but Erik... Oh Lord he was dead. He felt a cold sweat break out all over his body as he looked at the man before him. The white mask was always there, it was not a variable, it was a constant. He always wore black though his shirts were white. Always eerily neat, frighteningly calm…

Laurent felt cold dread swallow him whole, from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. Laurent was going to die, after surviving for so long in hiding, after being helped so kindly by Scott, after all of that he was going to die...

'Good evening,' He said, as he swallowed back some fear, trying to banish it from his voice. It was no use, though, he was terrified.

'How are you?' Erik asked, but his eyes never left Laurent's face. God, those eyes.

'Fine,' was all Laurent could manage to say.

Erik nodded. 'Good,'

Good?

'Do you know why I am here?' He asked, without moving. He was still perched, very still, on the railings. He had the balance of a cat.

Laurent nodded his head.

'Well, that makes one of us,' Erik smiled but the sight wasn't warm.

'You...' Laurent gulped in air, trying to calm himself. 'Don't know?'

'I know only what Gabriele told me,' Erik shrugged. 'That doesn't necessarily mean that much to me,'

'No?' Laurent asked.

'Don't act the fool, Laurent, it's most unbecoming of you,'

'I'm sorry,'

Erik smiled again, this time it was a little more... human. 'You were going to tell the police about my organisation, Laurent?'

'I knew they would tell you that,' Laurent said, slumping back against the wall to the side of the door.

Erik nodded and said nothing.

'I wasn't going to tell the police,'

'They would protect you,'

'From you?' Laurent said and, to his own surprise, he laughed.

'They would try,'

Laurent nodded. 'Shall we get to the point here?' he asked, meeting Erik's eyes and feeling the chill along his spine. 'I am too terrified of you to tell the police anything,'

'Therefore,' Erik smiled again. Laurent shivered. 'Gabriele lied,'

'But you knew that,'

Erik shrugged his shoulders casually.

'And you want the real story?' Laurent stood up straight. 'From me?'

'I already know the real story,' Erik said. 'It hit me today,'

'You know?'

Erik nodded. 'Gabriele is trying to sabotage me,'

'How did you know?'

'Well, I've never really trusted Gabriele,' Erik said. 'To me he has always been a means to end, if you like,'

Laurent nodded and waited for him to continue.

'His resentment and fear has always been obvious,' Erik looked around him, as if he didn't care, as if this was just another normal conversation. 'Lately, he's been a little different... he can't take me down alone, he knows that, so he is using his company to turn against me,'

Laurent confirmed this with a short, sharp nod of his head.

'And so he needs to bide his time, build it up, he needed a way to break me down,'

'I never understood how he was going to do that,' Laurent said quietly, his body finally steadying to a slow shake.

'Well,' Erik sighed. 'Today he found a way,'

Laurent made an 'o' with his lips but said nothing.

'I wanted to come by here and confirm that no harm will come to you,' He said. 'Not from me,'

'Thank you,'

'Live in peace, Laurent,' Erik stood from the railings. 'Gabriele will not come for you, I have not come for you... you're a free man,'

'Why are you telling me this?' Laurent asked, confused. 'Why come out of your way to tell me all of this?'

'Because I know the real reason you're in hiding,' he said. 'I'm not a fool,'

Laurent chose to stay quiet.

'You weren't going to tell the police, were you, Laurent?' Erik stepped closer. 'You were going to tell me.'

Laurent could do nothing but nod his head.

'Thank you,' Erik said. 'I'll repay you for this,'

'No need,'

'There is,' Erik turned and walked back to the railings. 'I'll be going away for a while after tonight. I need to get my mind around certain things,'

'Where are you going?'

'I'm not really sure yet,' Erik climbed onto the rail, standing on the thin metal as though it was the ground. There was no wobble, barely any movement at all. 'I'll be back and then I will deal with Gabriele, let him think he is safe... keep a low profile for a while, I might need your help,'

'Of course,'

'Oh and Laurent,' Erik said, glancing over his shoulder. 'Talk to your sister,'

With that he leapt from the balcony but Laurent heard no thump on the floor, no yelp of pain. By the time he looked over the balcony there was no sign that Erik Lambourne had ever even been there.