a/n Wee, everyone hates Maura, that's good. –laughs- I don't like her either. She was going to be a nice character but she turned out to be a meanie. Gah! I HATE this chapter, I don't know what it is but I think it's really bad. Grrr… So please forgive me if the chapter falls short.

Wild Mage Lioness – Erik thought she was sleep walking, but she really wasn't. -smiles- sorry if that was confusing.

WanderingTeen – Oh my goodness, that must have been a horrible time. M'sorry that it brought back nasty memories –hugs-

Chapter 8

The night had been a long one, even for Erik. He was exhausted, the first time he had ever felt such fatigue in a very long time. Sleep came in the form of stealing fifteen minute naps here and there. Not that he slept much anyways, but he needed rest if he was going to help Christine at all.

At the moment he was sitting at his piano. He was still in his tux but he had removed the gloves, jacket and vest. His white shirt was un-tucked and the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. His hands moved across the keys almost on their own, for his mind was elsewhere. Erik would have taken to the basement of the church, where he had his organ. The massive instrument would have taken up a good part of the house, so he expanded the basement and had it put down there. He felt better down there anyways.

But he didn't want to be so far away from Christine. If she called or had another fit, he wouldn't be able to hear her. So he decided to stick with the much quieter, closer, simpler piano. Erik glanced out one of the large rectangle windows. The morning was half over, birds sang as the golden rays fell over stained wood piano. His hair was wild, falling about his ears and in his face. He knew he must look rather wild, devilish, but who was around to see him. No one, and that was all that mattered to him as his foot moved over the pedals with disciplined grace.

'Anica, chickweed, coltsfoot, Orris root and sage. I'm missing something.' Erik listed many more ingredients he had used as he let the music fill his soul. He knew there was something he was over looking, something that would make all the difference. It was something so simple. Modern medicine was pulling away from the natural, more potent forms of medicating. He knew that slowly but surly these god given materials would go forgotten.

"Damn it!" Erik slammed his hands on the keys, ending the flow of music. He stood, moving the bench away with a soft kick, shoving his hands through his already messed up hair.

… . .

Christine jerked awake at the ugly sound of pounded keys. She had been hovering in a n out of sleep for some time, listening to the music downstairs. Sighing, Christine turned to her side and stubbornly kicked to cover off of her. She knew she was acting childish but it was god awful hot under the bed covers. Her hair was plastered to her sweaty face and her fifthly shift was much the same way; glued to her body from dried sweat. The sheets were also damp from her sweat.

'Must have been a Hell of a fever.' She thought to herself as she slowly sat up. Testing to make sure she wasn't going to be dizzy. Christine needed to use the water closet. But she had no idea where it might be. In all the excitement of coughing her lungs up, she failed to notice where the bathroom might be. Rolling her eyes at herself, Christine stood from the bed, keeping her hands on it to catch herself should the room tip. But she was fine, her vision was clear, and her balance was weak, but alright.

'Call Erik for help.' She paused, then snorted. 'Forget it; I'm not going to humiliate myself yet again.' She avoided the organized chaos of strange instruments and jars and bags of what looked to be herbs and various colors of liquids. A cold feeling of unease crept over Christine.

'What did he do to me?'

She had a sudden urge to look under her night gown to make sure he hadn't cut her open or anything as sadistic as that. But she swallowed hard. That was absurd. Her slow steps brought her to the door and very slowly and as quietly as she could, she opened the thick wooden door. Her big brown eyes peeked out first, scanning the hallway for anything that moved. There was nothing. Braver now, Christine tip-toed out of the room, leaving the door slightly open behind her.

Standing there, Christine felt very out of place. Barefoot, dirty, sweaty in some place and itching from the dried sweat in others. Her hair felt matted and oily. She was in need of a bath. Well, all she could do was snoop around and pray that her abductor won't find her. She took a few deep breaths to steady her nerves and opened the first door that was in front of her, just across from her room.

Luck shined on her. It was a bathroom. Christine took on more look around to make sure she was still alone before she stepped in.

'I'm obviously feeling much better. I wonder if he will let me go now.' Christine finished the call of nature and stood at the sink. She was horrified at the sight of her filthy hands and arms against the sanitary white of the porcelain sink. Grime was embedded under her fingernails and her skin was almost tan against the pure white of the sink. There were various bottles of sweet smelling soaps and lotions in attractive colors. Maybe she could wash up a little before returning. She would much rather have a bath, but she didn't want to risk having a irate masked man barge in on her, wondering where she had gone.

A little washing wouldn't hurt.

Christine picked up a small glass jar with soft pink cubes of soap in it. She lifted the small jar to her nose and took a deep breath. The soap smelled of rose and jasmine and was wonderful. Lifting her eyes from the soap, her gaze fell on the mirror set just over the sink. Christine gasped at her horrible reflection and dropped the jar. The glass jar smashed into the sink, sending glass bits everywhere. It was hardly a second later when she heard pounding as someone ran up the stairs.

'Damn'

…. . .

Erik was moving before he even realized where the sound had come from. Christine must have woken up and headed to the bathroom. Why didn't she call for help? He was sure she was too weak to get around on her own. Damn it.

"Christine?" Erik hit the bathroom, hand on the doorknob. But the door didn't open.

'She locked it.' Of course she would. He cursed in his head a moment before be knocked. "Are you alright Christine?" He held his breath during the silence till she answered.

"Y-yes, I'm fine. I just dropped a soap jar." She yelled though the door. Before she unlocked it and pulled it open, moving carefully so that she didn't step on any glass. "I hope it wasn't an heirloom." She added meekly when he came into view.

Erik sighed in relief upon seeing that she was unharmed. He leaned his hand on the doorway and studied her intently until the girl started to squirm under his gaze.

"No, it wasn't." he finally said. "How are you feeling? I'm rather surprised to see you up and about so early."

Christine tipped her chin up and crossed her too thin arms in front of her. "I'm feeling better, thank you. Good enough to take care of myself." She added. She wasn't a child anymore. She didn't care if this was the same man how had comforted her in the middle of the might when she was afraid, or upset. She didn't care that this was the face behind the voice that haunted her dreams for years. She was going to show him that she was a grown woman, yes she was sick but that didn't mean he could treat her like a ten year old.

Erik smiled, and surprise flashed across Christine's eyes, but she quickly hid it. "I suppose you would like a bath now?" He now leaned his shoulder against the door frame and held back a smirk as Christine blushed. The bastard, he looked like walking sin the way he was. Hair messy, eyes holding that crazed look, rolled up sleeves and half the buttons on his shirt were undone.

"Well I… Um…" She fidgeted.

"I have some clothes for you." Erik interrupted, turning away to head back to Christine's room. "There is a broom right there. "He pointed to a small door on the opposite wall. "You can sweep up any of the glass, be careful." He waited till the girl nodded before he left for the room.

… . .

Christine instantly relaxed when Erik left her. 'God I hate that stupid mask.' She growled to herself as she carefully tip-toed through the glass shards and opened the thin little door. In side were shelves of towels a mop and a broom. Christine took the broom and ran it over the floor a few times till she was sure she had gathered up all the tiny bits of glass. 'And does he have to look at me like that?' those eyes of his, they burned right into her.

Erik returned silently, startling her out of her thoughts and she dropped her eyes shamefully.

"I'm sure these will be suitable for you." He said, setting the clothes on the tile counter. He took the broom from her hands and swept the glass from the room.

Christine looked over at the clothes, seeing a new shift and what she believed to be a light lavender dress. Erik swept the rest of the glass from the bathroom sink, taking the soap with him, lest it have tiny shards of glass embedded into it.

"Be careful." He warned, leveling his intense gaze at her. "You may feel well now, but the strength can leave you before you know it. Keep the door unlocked."

"What?" If he though she was going to –

"If you faint in the tub I am going to help you one way or the other, and I would rather not break the door down." He said with a grin, stopping her thoughts in their tracks.

Christine glared, cursing to herself. "Understood." She sighed softly. Erik nodded, his smile fading.

"Good. I just want you to be safe Christine. And this little door is not going to be able to hold me back from that. Take your bath, I'll work on making you more tea to help with that cough."

Christine blinked and looked up at Erik. "Is that what you gave me last night?" Erik looked surprised.

"You remember that?"

Christine nodded, she was surprised too. Her memory was very foggy, but she remembered drinking something that was pretty revolting. "I remember it was nasty." She pulled a face that made Erik chuckle.

"I'm Sorry Christine, but it is vital for you." He paused. "I've been forgetting something though." He admitted, a troubled look flashed across his eyes. "There is an herb I need to add to your tea to help with you cough and help heal your lungs, as well as give you some energy."

Christine fell silent for a moment before she muttered. "That sounds like horehound."

Erik blinked, paused, then rubbed the bare side of his forehead. "Pardon me?"

"I said that sounds like horehound." She repeated, looking back up at Erik as he stared at her with a surprised look. Christine's eyes darted left and right before settling back on the man. "W-What?" Erik grabbed her by the shoulders, eyes flashed brightly in excitement.

"Christine!"

"Yes?" But, Erik never answered her. Instead he pulled her to him and set a kiss on her forehead.

"Take your bath Christine." And with that he shut the door and Christine heard him pound his way down the steps. She gazed at the door for a few long moment. 'What in the world was that about.' She rubbed at the spot he had kissed. Had she guessed the herb that he had been forgetting? But it was so simple.

a/n Yeah another chapter is done. Christine is getting better as you can see. But other things are to come. Reviews are loved –smiles- and thanks for reading.