I loved your enthusiasm last chapter! Some mentioned they were surprised that it happened so quickly, but so far I've received no complaints at them being engaged (I don't think Erik would care to heed such warnings in any case!). I hope it stays that way! Now, let's see if we can get them moving on...

Onward!

XXXIX

Packing suddenly held little interest for Christine—not when she could sit on the sofa with her Erik and admire her ring, occasionally sharing sweet kisses with her fiancé. It still felt a bit strange how things had transpired, but no longer did she feel the niggling guilt that she somehow was indulging a madman. It all felt too right, her happiness too genuine for her to doubt, and she would rather simply enjoy the living without fretting about what people might think of her choices.

"It suits you well," Erik told her, his voice a little smug.

She could not muster even the slightest reproach, instead smiling and watching the sparkles as she moved her hand ever so slightly. "You suit me well, and so you were able to pick well."

Erik sniffed but she could see how pleased he was at her assessment, leaning down and kissing her temple in approval.

They were a bit more timid when they had gone to bed that night, a bit more reserved now that there was a future of more. Erik remained above the blankets, and while she normally would have persuaded him that such was unnecessary, today she did not argue. Not when her emotions were so very raw and she feared that with the slightest touch she might...

Boo's clamoring onto the bed disturbed her thoughts and he very pointedly insinuated himself between them both as he nestled amongst the pillows, curling up promptly and resting his nose against his tightly wrapped tail, breathy purrs relating his pleasure. Erik stared at him incredulously, but Christine could only giggle, pressing a kiss upon the top of Boo's head, feeling a bit better that temptation would not best her—not when Boo was ever watchful and so very jealous of her affections.

"I hope you will not consider this appropriate behavior once we are wed," Erik warned her.

And she merely smiled at him, and whispered, "Good night," before turning out the light at her bedside.

"That is not an answer," he reminded her, frustration evident in his voice.

So it was with a smile on her lips and a ring on her finger that she slept.

And in the morning, Erik announced that once her clothing was situated and they had returned to her apartment, it was time they vacate his home.

"Onwards to better things, my dear," he assured her when a sudden melancholy overcame her.

"I know," she replied, nodding as she used the last of the milk on her cereal, the refrigerator already carefully emptied. "I just didn't realize how much I would miss it."

Erik cocked his head to the side, watching her across the table. "Why should you miss this place? Surely it feels more a prison than a home to you."

Christine rolled her eyes, though she supposed some part of her might agree with him. She would like a place where she could go outside at a whim. Where there were other people to talk to and befriend should she so choose. But every bit of this house was a reflection of Erik, with its perfect blend of old fashioned charm and modern convenience, and she was loathe to lose such a physical representation of his character.

But perhaps...

Perhaps now that they were to be married, it was important that they find something that was to be theirs.

"Are you certain you would still like to return to your apartment?" He said this with a note of distaste, and she sighed, skimming the last from the milky depths.

"Yes." Christine assured him. "I need to be sure I have everything important."

Erik nodded, and she drank the remaining milk, not caring if he thought it a little undignified. But his eyes were warm and affectionate as he watched her, and she blushed only a little when she pulled the bowl away.

Changed and dressed for the day, her boots already on and her coat carefully laid out for the cold weather to come, Christine packed away the last of her favorite clothes, then smoothed her mother's quilt overtop it all. The suitcase protested the additional invasion, but she was most certainly not about to trust it in anything else. The zipper conquered, she took a moment to remake the bed, idly wishing she had time to put on fresh linens, but she felt Erik's presence in the doorway, reminding her that it was time to depart.

And for a brief moment, she simply wanted to cry and ask him not to make them leave.

He came up behind her and wrapped his long arms about her, his chin coming to rest on the top of her head. "It will be beautiful," he murmured softly in her ear. "Green everywhere, and crisp breezes, and skies that seem to go on forever. Do you not miss the open air, my Christine?"

"Yes," she whispered with a shiver at his proximity.

He gave her middle a careful squeeze. "Then allow me to restore it to you. Preferably with as few tears as you can manage."

She released a choked sort of laugh, his teases unexpected but welcome as he released her with a kiss, taking the handle of her suitcase and taking it out toward the front door.

"Oh, Boo!"

She kicked herself for not considering how he might travel. She hadn't the least idea of how Erik had even brought him down here. A box? Or did they make special carriers?

Evidently they did for she caught sight of a black mesh enclosure, large enough for him to grow, but small enough that it could be carried easily. Boo blinked at her drowsily, almost unseeingly before he laid down his head and closed his eyes. Christine's brow furrowed.

"Is he okay?"

Erik peered down at their kitten. "Perfectly well. Better that he sleeps than stresses himself over things he cannot understand."

"You... you drugged him?" Her heart raced at the thought, a cold feeling spreading through her limbs.

Erik's eyes narrowed as he handed her coat to her. "A common practice, I can assure you. Cats are not typically welcome to the concept of airplane travel, and I doubt your little fellow is any exception."

She still gave Boo a dubious look, and Erik continued, releasing only the smallest of sighs. "I did not poison your companion, Christine. I merely spared him a terrifying experience. Surely that is not so very terrible?"

Christine took a steadying breath before nodding. "Of course. I'm sorry, I just... I didn't know that's what people did. And I'm a little ashamed of myself for not even thinking about it before."

Erik stared at her a moment longer before he stepped forward, taking her left hand in his, his thumb gliding over her ring as he held it up for her inspection. "I would like this to mean that you trust me not to hurt you. And hurting something you love would cause you pain, so therefore…"

He looked at her expectantly and she swallowed, that same shame growing as she recognized how little faith she had put in him.

The man she had agreed to marry.

"That you never would."

Erik nodded. "Precisely." He sighed, a deep and saddened sound that tugged at her heart and fueled the guilt all the more. "Please, do not think so little of me, Christine. Not now."

"I'm sorry," she repeated, feeling thoroughly chastened as he pressed a kiss upon her fingers before helping her into her coat.

"Ready?"

Christine was glad of his hand, steady and sure within her own as she took one last look about his home. It seemed desolate already, too still and empty even though so many possessions would be left behind. Erik had been taking trips above all morning with cases of his own, but still there was the furniture, the rugs, the intricate lamps that when lit made it all so cozy.

And they were abandoning it all.

For the hope of a better life.

Together.

"Yes," she murmured, hoping that it was not in fact a lie, following obediently as Erik took Boo's carrier and her suitcase and led her once more to the world beyond.

Christine hesitated when Erik made to open the door to the music room, filled with sudden trepidation that a host of police would be waiting on the other side, her hand clutching at his arm to keep him from continuing.

He sighed deeply and produced a slim, black phone from his pocket, the screen revealing video of the interior of the room beyond—equally empty to the house they had left behind. "I was careless before, something that I shall not be again. We are safe, Christine."

Eventually, after a moment of watching and waiting for any sign of concealment, she relented, and they passed through the room that so clearly had meant so very much to her Erik during his time below the theatre. To her relief, many of the compositions that had once littered every surface were now gone, and when her eyes landed on the empty corner where his violin had once resided, she was even more so.

For the first time there was a touch of wistfulness to Erik's tone as he glanced about the room, urging her from the space before she could ask him what troubled him.

Another dark SUV waited for them at the curb, this time the back seat filled with luggage instead of Erik's defendants—although Christine still found herself peeking often to ensure that nothing else accompanied them.

"Is something amiss?" he finally asked her, his tone one of amusement even as his eyes never left the road before them.

Christine blushed and faced forward once more, settling Boo's carrier more firmly on her lap. Erik had insisted that he would be perfectly happy on the seat behind her, but it felt wrong to leave him so alone when in a car for the very first time, and probably feeling muddled and strange with the drugs in his system.

"No," she assured him quickly. "Just… thinking about last time we were in a car like this. Things are so different now."

Erik hummed and turned onto a familiar street, the buildings suddenly shabbier and the mood much more somber. Had she truly lived here all alone? It was still fairly early in the evening, but the days had grown short and the sun had long since set when they pulled up to her apartment.

She glanced down at her lap when he parked the car against the curb, uncertain what to do with Boo. She did not intend to be in her apartment long, and now as she regarded the street that had once been so very familiar to her, it all seemed so very dangerous...

He could simply continue to sleep in his carrier, but near to her, even if he didn't like the slight jostling that came with actually being carried. "My dear," Erik said, first taking Boo and then holding out his unburdened hand to help Christine from the vehicle. She still had to make an awkward hop down, but she managed well enough with his assistance. "You will stay close," he cautioned softly before he locked the car and he led them onward.

She knew a moment's panic when she realized that her key was no longer in her possession, but Erik swiftly undid the lock, whether by pilfering her belongings or through some nefarious skill of his own, she did not catch.

Erik had donned a mask before their departure, this one less grim than some of his other options. It was still jarring to no longer be able to see his face or so easily tell of his expressions, but Christine supposed it made him more comfortable when around other people, and she did so want to make all this easier for him.

Sounds of violent television programs and disgruntled children filtered through the closed doors of the other apartments as Erik and Christine steadily made their way to her apartment, and she noted again how dingy everything appeared. The soiled carpet, the walls in dire need of fresh paint, half the lights in the hallway in need of changing lending a depressing tone with the few remaining fluorescents.

Was it any wonder that Erik had feared for her safety? That he had sought to help her? Even if his particular version of help was so far beyond the norm.

She was glad when none of her neighbors peeked out at them as Erik escorted her through the doorway to her own apartment, uncertain of what she would say should anyone ask after her absence. They were starting new, where no one would know them, no one would question how she had come to be with him other than the rudimentary enquiries that accompanied all relationships.

And she looked forward to that. To proudly introducing her Erik to those she met, telling people of how he loved and cared for her. The issue of the kidnapping was between them and would most certainly remain so—a mistake on his part that she would not allow to taint everything that followed.

And as she took in her little studio apartment, dust beginning to settle on what once had been tidy surfaces, she finally began to see what Erik had when he had looked at her.

A girl struggling on her own, too despondent and grief-stricken to try to form a better life for herself. A neighborhood notorious for its drugs and crimes, but cheap enough to allow her the benefit of living alone. And he had admired her, in his way, and thought that he could give her a better life. And that perhaps she might love him for it.

"Christine? Did you not wish to look about?"

"Sorry," she answered almost dazedly, pulling herself from her thoughts as she released his hand and set about opening drawers in search of any forgotten keepsakes. Her clothes were all there, well-worn and some threadbare, already used when she'd bought them. She'd always tried to ensure she looked presentable, her papa having stressed the importance of doing so from an early age. But when she compared these garments to the ones Erik had given her, the thought of taking them with her seemed almost laughable. Her Erik showered her in luxury, and while she was pleased with herself for having scratched out any type of life on her own, she could not say she took any great pride in it. Not when she could have done more if she had seen any purpose in it.

It wasn't until she reached the bottom drawer of her dresser and her hands brushed against a metal tin that her breath caught, immeasurably grateful that she had insisted they return here.

She opened the lid with trembling fingers, inside all of the picture of her papa and mama, looking so very happy in their newly wedded bliss. There were a few of her as a baby with her mother, but most centered around her and her papa, with warm hugs and Christine's smiling face as she was presented with a cupcake on her birthday, a lone candle perched in the middle so she could still usher in the new year with a wish.

And buried beneath it all, lay her parents' wedding bands. Her father's a plain gold, while her mother's was engraved with leaves and vines about the entirety of the band.

Her heart ached just to look at them.

How could she have forgotten them? She'd remembered to ask Erik for her mama's quilt, but these? Her entire life with her parents tucked away in a little tin, safe and cherished yet hidden all the same.

Except… perhaps she had not quite forgotten. She had known it was important to return here, to make sure she did not leave something behind. Yet like it had always been, she held these memories slightly aloft, the pain too near, too all-encompassing to allow her to visit them at will.

Her fingers stroked over her papa's wedding band, so easily picturing it upon his hand. Every day he wore it. It did not matter that his love was gone, that she had perished so soon into their marriage. He was bound to her, to her memory, and not once had he removed it.

Until a mortician had done so and sent it back to her along with his other possessions.

She felt Erik's looming presence above her, and she glanced upward, his eyes showing his concern even as his attention flickered to the photographs, his interest plain.

She would share them with him, of course she would. She would let him see these pieces of her life, a glimpse of what it meant to be loved and treasured as a child—so completely opposite to everything he had experienced himself. But not here. Not now. For here she had known what it was to be alone, to weep into her pillow and to ache so terribly at the loneliness that consumed her, and even with his comforting presence behind her, she still felt that familiar pang.

And she would have them be free of it.

Christine closed the tin hurriedly and handed it to Erik for him to keep safe while she made a half-hearted search through the rest of the drawers and cupboards of her apartment. She found her expired passport and showed it to him worriedly, but Erik merely smiled and shook his head. "You have no need of it," he promised her, but she tucked it into her pocket anyway, also not wanting anyone else to have it.

And when she had looked all she could, she took Boo's carrier from the floor where Erik had left him and held it close, her throat tight with emotion and her eyes already misting. "We can go now."

Erik came to her hesitantly, his gaze searching as he tentatively put his arm around her shoulders—unsure of his welcome. She leaned her head against his chest wearily, her feelings at returning here unexpected. "Take me home, Erik. I just want to be home."

Except, they did not have a home now, did they? They were wanderers, fugitives, and she was so very tired of it all.

"Home," Erik repeated slowly as he led her from the room, closing the door behind him. "You shall have a very nice one now. One with rooms and music," this he said most firmly and she could not help but smile softly at his insistence. Not when he had tried to beguile her so unsuccessfully in the past, "and... and love?"

A sob threatened to escape at his question, for there was no denying that he was uncertain of her response. Even with his ring upon her finger, even after their shared kisses and her promises of marriage, still he wondered. And she realized now why he was so very concerned about bringing her here—that the memories of independence, of a life before him, would prove too tantalizing, and she would choose to forget him.

No matter how utterly impossible such a thing could be in reality.

"Silly Erik," she choked out, ready to be free of this building, of this life. "There will be so much love there, for we will be married."

He hummed contentedly at that, and she could not help but tease.

"And because Boo will be there."

At that he offered an indignant sniff and her smile grew. He led her across the street and helped her into the car, and as he joined her and they drove away, she felt only the smallest twinge of sadness of what she left behind.

But more than that, she longed to know where their new home was to be. Their home together.

It felt strange to leave the city, so long had she dwelt there. There was little to beckon her beyond it, her life with her papa contained to its confines and the stretch of her pocketbook making it plain that it was far better to keep to the areas where she knew the costs and could budget accordingly. But now they were leaving it, Erik's hand coming to find hers when he noticed her silent tears, and she held it gratefully until she found her composure, the city lights fading as they entered the freeway.

They drove for what seemed a very long time before Erik finally turned into a darkened field, pasture lands and fences surrounding them with many warnings against trespassers. Even the sight of horses and cows wandering about did nothing to calm her nerves, so unfamiliar was the entire landscape.

"Erik?"

He patted her hand gently and made a final turn, an airplane coming into view.

An airplane?

This was clearly not an airport, no sign of others and bustling lines and metal detectors and crowded waiting rooms—at least, that's what she had always been told constituted such a place. Instead, Erik parked the car and a man simply appeared to help with the luggage, Christine having opened her door but too nervous to actually descend until Erik could give his full attention.

Even Boo managed to lift his head and peer about, not enough to panic but enough to question the loud noise as the engines came to life, more men walking about and checking last minute things as their bags were suddenly taken to be stored in their proper compartments.

Erik came then, and noting her worry, he leaned close and kissed her forehead before he took her hands in his. "Your carriage awaits, my dear." She offered him a timid smile and allowed him to draw her from the car—was it too going to be abandoned?—before he drew her close and escorted her toward the plane. "It will all be well, my Christine. You shall see."

And as she ascended the steps toward her new life, she certainly hoped it to be true.

Sooo... no TSA for them! As if Erik was ever going to submit to another pat down. And it's a good thing Christine asked to go back to her apartment... they might need some of those tin contents at some point...

Who's ready to finally find out where they're going?!