Raoul brought me to his estate. He had a room prepared for me and a doctor sent for. Then he pulled up a chair next to the bed and held my hand. I couldn't cease staring at the open window, taking in the sunlight.

"You don't remember anything?" he asked.

I shook my head, "No... There's Perros, then it's all dark."

"Perros? Maybe we should go there, then, when your leg heals. You might remember there."

"Yes... yes, I think we should go... o-or I should, alone."

"You shouldn't go anywhere alone," he replied, cupping my face with his hand, "not when we don't know where he is or why he left you in your dressing room... Do you think he took you somewhere?"

"I don't know."

"I'll have the police search the cellars again anyway. Madame Giry told me that he must have taken you somewhere, or at least kept you at Perros, so that's where I searched... and I did go down, to see, but I found nothing, nothing..."

"It's all right, dear. I'm here now, and that's what matters."

"Yes, that's all that matters... And I think we should be married as soon as possible."

"No, no, I-I..."

"Why not?"

"I..." I struggled for an explanation. "The operas. I-I want to do one more, once I'm ready."

"Of course," he said, shaking his head. "I hadn't even considered. That must have been hard for you to go without."

"I don't remember if it was..."

He glanced down at my other hand.

"Do you remember where you got this ring?" he asked, holding it up to my view. "Do you want to take it off?"

I shook my head, "I don't think that would be wise. If he didn't take it from me, I should keep it."

"But if it upsets you-"

There was a knock at the door.

"Monsieur le vicomte?" came man's voice. "The doctor is here."

"Send him in," Raoul replied.

A man in dress clothes carrying a black briefcase came in. He wore spectacles and his gray hair was patched and balding.

"Good morning, monsieur," he said to Raoul as he opened his case. "If you would please tell me in the clearest manner of which you are capable, what is she suffering from?"

"She can't remember anything," he replied. "She was abducted three months ago and doesn't remember anything in that time."

"Three months? And no memory?"

I shook my head.

"Can you remember when you were abducted?" the doctor asked me as he removed a cone-shaped object.

"Yes," I replied. "I was at my father's grave. That was where he took me. Everything else is dark after that."

"I expect you had a great shock, then, something you don't wish to remember, and that your mind forbids you to. Amnesia happens often with women who undergo too much stress in circumstances like these."

"Often?" I asked. "I-I've never heard of someone having this."

"Often for women in these circumstances," he reiterated. "Let me hear your heartbeat, see if it's quick... Breathe in for me."

I did so as he placed the metal cone on my chest, then my back.

"Seems to be in order," he said. "I would advise bedrest and a calm environment. Your mind will relax and your memory may return. If it does not, though, perhaps it is for the better."

"And look at her leg," Raoul added. "She has it in a brace and can't temember why."

"Let me see."

It might have embarrassed me once to roll up my skirts in such a way, even just over my knees, but not now. He felt my leg, and I winced as he found a tender spot. He removed his hand and I pushed my skirts down.

"It must have fractured and healed," he said. "I think two weeks at the very most before the brace can be removed. I would advise that you remove it in twelve to see how it is... Any other concerns?"

"No," I said.

"Fetch me if she deteriorates," he told Raoul, then he glanced at me, his gaze softening, "Actually, I might see if... May I speak with you somewhere private, monsieur?"

"Can't you speak to me about my own health?" I demanded.

"It's a delicate matter, mademoiselle."

"Christine," Raoul said, "I'll tell you if I think you need to know. We'll be back in a moment."

I nodded discontentedly, staring up at the ceiling. They headed outside and shut the door. Tears slipped down the sides of my face, at lying, at being treated like a child, at knowing I only had two weeks to spend with Raoul before I would spend the rest of my life with Erik. It wasn't even that I would be with him, simply that I didn't know what he would do with me. He could do anything.

Raoul came back into the room, white as a sheet. The doctor's footsteps echoed down the hallway.

"What did he say?" I asked.

He shut the door, then replied, "Nothing you need to hear."

"I have no memory and I'm being treated like a child!" I snapped. "What did he say?"

"I don't want you to know. I don't want it to be what happened."

"What did he say? Does he think I was violated? I wasn't, I know that much, I can tell."

"It was worse than that..."

"Worse? What could be worse?"

He shook his head, "I can't think about it. I felt sick just hearing the idea."

I sighed in irritation, "Can you not hear me? Why won't you tell me something that concerns me?"

He shook his head again, and his voice croaked, "I-I can't."

"I didn't mean to be harsh, Raoul-"

"No, no, it's fine, you have a right to know, you do, but I can't tell you. If you remember, then you can know, but... If that's what happened, I hope you don't remember a thing... Get some rest. I'll bring you lunch when you wake up."

I nodded discontentedly. He shut the door behind himself as he left.

What did he think was worse? I thought hard about something worse than rape, but I couldn't find anything. Nothing...

I tried to keep my eyes shut, but I couldn't bear it. After finding no answer to what Raoul was concerned about, and realizing it didn't matter, I started thinking about what would happen after this. For all I knew, the rest of my life could be wonderful, but it could also be misery. I could only hope that Erik learned to truly love me in that time, and that I could love him. I would have his music, after all, his magic tricks and devotion to me... I would have a life still, wouldn't I? One I could control at least somewhat.

What if I was belittled for the rest of my life, though? What if he was incapable of loving me past treating me like a child? What if he was lying and would manipulate me horribly when we were married into doing anything he wanted?

I fidgeted with my ring, admiring the black stone. I pushed it off my finger, then spun it around and slid it back on.

Why had Erik let me go like this? Without a threat against me doing whatever I wanted, save that he would find me if I ran? It made no sense, save that he wanted to give me this time to be happy before he took me away. If that was it, then at least his view of love had expanded somewhat. It gave me hope.

The days began to fly by. I marked them all down to better appreciate them. Raoul and I spent all the time together. Even at night, he didn't leave my side, even though he told me people would talk.

"Let them talk," I replied. "I don't care anymore."

"That's what I'm concerned about," he said. "You don't care... Why don't you care?"

"We'll be married soon anyway. Besides, they expect me to be a mistress, so at least no one will think any differently of me. There were already rumors."

"But you act like you want us to make love again. Before, we did so because you were afraid of that being taken from you. Now, it's just reckless to... and unlike you."

"I've never felt safer than when we made love," I told him, my voice trembling. "E-everything went away, there was just you and me, just us two. There was no... opera ghost, nothing. It was us. And it wasn't even us, we were one... weren't we?"

"Of course, but... I don't think it's advisable right now."

He said that, but the following week he had given in. After all, we were sharing a bed. It was impossible to resist each other in such close proximity.

The morning after, though, I felt guilt. I did. I was afraid that Erik would know.

But he couldn't, and I had given up caring about consequences. I was reckless and I wanted to be. I had two weeks to live how I wanted. Two weeks.

I spent that time meandering through the garden in my wheelchair, with Raoul sometimes pushing me. He put budding flowers in my hair, and told me that this whole estate would be mine, too, soon.

I nodded and smiled. I did that a lot.

Before I knew it, I had checked off the last day. Two weeks had been a single hour, it felt like. Tomorrow we would leave for the train station. Raoul had purchased our tickets to Perros, packed our luggage so we could stay there overnight. We wouldn't be going there, though. I would have to get away from him at the station and, somehow, find Erik.

Likely, he would find me.

"Ready to take this brace off?" Raoul asked me in the morning.

"Goodness knows I am," I replied, already working at the straps.

He assisted me, then held my hands for me to stand, like he was teaching a baby how to toddle. The sensation was foreign, being on my own two feet.

"I feel free," I told him.

It had been a ball and chain to me. It had made me dependent on Erik for everything, and now I could live on my own.

Raoul took me out to walk through the garden again, this time properly. We sat down on a white bench by the marble birdbath, which was surrounded in budding rose bushes. Just as Raoul had wrapped an arm about me, a servant came out with a letter in his gloved hand. This he handed to Raoul.

"From the Comte, monsieur," the servant said.

"Thank you," Raoul replied, tearing into it immediately.

I gave him the privacy of reading it on his own. His brow furrowed.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing," he replied. "I'll need to speak with him in person is all."

"Where has he been?"

"Marseille... Everything is fine, though." He stood up. "I'll be back in a moment."

I didn't think to ask why. He was no better than Erik at telling me what was going on when it concerned me. Evidently his brother was not pleased that I had taken up residence.

I decided to wander around on my own. At least I would have a garden wherever Erik was taking me. Unless he was lying... but he wouldn't. He did honestly love me, and he wanted to make me happy in some way.

I had often wondered about what he thought of women. He must have spent most of his life with men, and his mother was horrible, so maybe he just learned that we were frivolous and vain. He honestly seems to think that if he gives me enough gifts, and a nice house, that I can be happy. What will he do when he realizes that that won't content me? Why does he even love me at all if I go against all he seems to know about women?

I put my head in my hands and sighed. Raoul came back out of the house and we resumed meandering. Later that day, he tried to accompany my voice on piano, but he gave up, as his playing was... awful. Maybe I had been spoiled by Erik's music, but Raoul simply couldn't make anything that even sounded like music.

Erik was right about that. If I had married Raoul, the music I had been shown and intoxicated by would be gone. I would have only my voice.

Before I could blink, Raoul and I were curled up in bed together. I had been affectionate with him, hopeful that my last night might be filled with nothing but love, but he wouldn't hear of it. I contented myself with resting my head on his chest instead. Maybe it was best not to go back to Erik too full of guilt, though.

I kept myself awake the entire night to savor Raoul's presence. I could feel him slipping through my fingers, and I wanted to make a memory of this, just this.

I watched the sunlight bleed through the curtains, pooling beneath. How I had missed the sunlight, yet now I wished it would go away.

Raoul stirred beside me, planting a kiss on my cheek.

"How did you sleep?" he whispered.

"Well," I lied, faking a smile.

"We should get ready. What would you like for breakfast?"

"Just tea... I'm a bit nervous of whatever memories might come is all."

"Just tea, then," he said, kissing me again.

Then he was gone. He would be gone forever soon.

The morning hurried by before I could grab hold of it, before I could imprint the touch of Raoul's lips in my mind's eye. We were headed to the train station. I was headed away from everything I knew, on a straight path towards the unknown. How anyone ever wanted to go on adventures was beyond me. So much could happen.

Once we arrived, I told him I was faint and needed to sit down. He helped me onto a bench. Then I said I needed water, and he went to fetch it for me without a second thought.

It was ten thirty in the morning. Already people were crowding the station, rushing by with luggage. I waited on the bench to be taken away. I waited like a good little captive.

I had legs now, though. Two working legs. I could run. I could run... but where to?

I stood up, and a hand snaked about my wrist.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

It seems a bit odd that Christine felt safer trapped underground with a broken leg that she does now. Psychology!

But Erik is going to be a great husband? In dark fics that happens all the time, yes? We'll see what he does. He loves Christine, at least, he just... doesn't know what that means at all, or the fact that manipulating a person, especially one you love, is a big no-no. He's desperate as heck, though. It's a combination of "aw, poor guy who just wants love, give him a chance" and "Christine, run for the hills because you're more than a love object!"