"It's eleven o' clock! I'm taking her home!" Raoul argued with the nurse.

"You can't she's not awake yet!"

"It's eleven! I should be able to wake her up!" Raoul pushed past the nurse.

"No! Sir! You can't! I'm calling security!"

Raoul paused. "Fine then. When can I see her." He clamped his jaw, trying to keep his temper in check.

"When she wakes up."

Christine groaned. Raoul and the nurse both rushed for the door. The nurse glared at Raoul. "Ladies first, of course," Raoul mumbled. Christine opened her eyes slowly to the bright light of her hospital room, wishing for the comfortable dimness of Erik's house. "Morning sleepyhead," Raoul murmured from above her.

"What time is it?" Christine groaned again.

"Eleven oh four," the nurse butted in, taking Christine's temperature. "Now, let's see that scarring."

"Scarring?" Raoul asked, panicked.

"Yes, scarring," the nurse practically spat in Raoul's face. She helped Christine sit up. "There you go, dear." Raoul bent over to look at Christine's back. "Do I have to call security?" the nurse threatened. He retreated back into a corner of the room. The nurse noted the changes and helped set Christine back again. "There. You have one more again today. That makes for a total of 18," she chewed on her pencil as she stared down at the charts. She looked up at Christine. "The doctor will be here in an hour to sign your paperwork." The nurse rehung the clip board and walked out of the room, throwing one last glare at Raoul.

Raoul looked over at Christine with concern. "Scars?"

"Yes, scars. They're weird shaped. I don't know why I have them, but I'm not worried. It'll probably just clear up on its own," she lied. "How's Phillipe?" Christine asked, changing the subject.

"Same as ever," Raoul grumbled.

"Ah. I see. He still -"

"Yup."

"Damn. And now he owns the company too?"

"Yup."

"That sucks."

"Yeah. My father thought that I was too young to handle such responsibility, so Phillipe got every last cent of the business."

"How did he not see -"

"You know he was always blind to Phillipe's faults. Oh well. My mother left me a trust fund I can access once I get married, but until then, I'm stuck working with the drunk, self-proclaimed Don Juan, dope-headed Phillipe and his 'friends'."

"Jeez. And I thought my life sucked."

Raoul laughed. "Christine, you just got hit by a bus, and you think that my life sucks?"

Christine blushed. "Well, you know how dangerous they say those lattes are for your health," she joked.

He chuckled. They sat enjoying the peaceful silence. Finally, Raoul stood. "I'm going to go get that doctor."

He returned quickly with an older doctor than Dr. Naismith. The doctor glanced over the folder sitting on the counter and nodded. "You're clear to go Miss Dah-ay." He didn't even look up as he placed his signature onto the form, handed it to the nurse and walked out.

The nurse checked the form and brought a wheelchair. Christine groaned. "Do I have to?"

"Yup. Hospital procedure. Wouldn't want you to sue the hospital because you tripped and fell down the stairs."

"And if I promise not to sue?" Christine asked hopefully.

"Sorry." The nurse helped Christine into the chair.

---------((0))

"Dinner tomorrow at eight?" Raoul asked standing on the door frame of Christine's apartment.

"Would love to. Where we going?"

"Hmmm... there's this one Mexican restaurant downtown."

"Sounds wonderful."

"See you then, Christine."

"Bye," Christine whispered as he left. She shivered. It was as if the temperature had dropped ten degrees.

---------((0))

He shook me awake. "Why? Why do you do this, Christine? Why? I love you! Why cannot you give me your heart along with your soul? I have never loved any like you! I never will again! Why do you cast aside my love for some eye candy? He is only using you so that he can get his mother's money! Do you not know? Christine! Christine..." Erik sobbed into my hair as he held me on his lap, cocooned in blankets and unable to move or protest. "Erik loves you so much. He needs you. The pretty boy does not need Christine. The pretty boy is not capable of having as much love as Erik. Erik wants Christine. All of Christine. Not just her soul. She did give him her soul though. As Erik's first gift, he has never seen anything so beautiful. Erik needs her heart. Then Christine would be able to sing so well that the angels would fall to jealousy." He hugged me tight. I couldn't breathe. The room started to sway. He suddenly loosened his grip and looked down into my eyes. I saw such childish wonderment and awe that my heart twisted.

"Let's go sing, Erik," I nearly whispered. He nodded and reluctantly let go of my warm body.

"Yes, let's..." he muttered quietly. He gently untangled me from the blanket and set me on my feet. He stood and brushed himself off.

---------((0))

"You will get see an ad today for that competition I mentioned the other day." Erik swept me in and whispered in my ear.

He said that dancing would help my rhythm problems. He was teaching me the salsa. We both knew that he just wanted to hold me, but everything in Erik's world obeys only Erik, and I wanted to be let go before I was late for work again.

"You will enter it. I haven't put this much effort into your voice for you to just sing alone in your apartment."

I started. "How often do you watch me?"

"Oh Christine, don't you know how we are connected? I can see you whenever I am relaxed or whenever you are particularly emotional." He held me tighter to his body. I shivered. "I can see you when you are with that Raoul." He said Raoul's name as if it were something that he had just stepped in, then scraped off the bottom of his shoe. "You will not go with him to dinner." He was getting angry again now, his grip suffocating. He grinned. "If you do, it will not go unpunished."

"Will you keep me prisoner here again, like your slave?" I asked nastily.

He cried out as if I had struck him. "Is this what Christine thinks of her Erik? No, not slave, I don't want you to be just a captive," he pleaded. "I want you as my wife."

His wife. I blacked out.

---------((0))

I couldn't think of any references to put in this chapter; sorry, Muse. There's an almost-allusion to Harry Potter in here, though. To Maat, thank you for your review. You are completely right. It wasn't working anyways. I can no more keep myself from giving you a written chapter than I can keep the breath from my lungs. Thank you to all who reviewed. This week is spring break, and I'm on staycation, so I think I'll update sometime this week.

Terrified of getting my wisdom teeth out,

Raven Sharpe

(posted π+0.01 day (yes, I know I'm a math geek))