Erik's POV

"It happened on the night we left your lair," Christine began, looking down at her hands. "Raoul and I took the boat like you said to do and made our way past the gates. Though, sometime after that, we came face to face with the mob. They were coming across the lake and had their weapons in hand. Some passed on, but the remaining men flipped over the boat and demanded that we tell them where the Phantom was hiding. Raoul tried to fight them off…"

Christine paused as tears streamed down her cheeks. Yes, it was heartbreaking watching this girl sitting there crying, but I didn't have a single word of comfort for her.

"Raoul tried to fight them off, but they killed him. They beat him with their weapons and tortured him…I had to watch it all. And then, when they were finished with him, the men came after me. They did horrible things to me, Erik…Horrible, horrible things. And when I thought things couldn't get any worse, I was…they…raped me…"

"Christine…" I grabbed her hand and squeezed it as she sobbed into her arm. God! I would have killed them all…

"Christine, I don't understand," I replied. "I too, got beaten by the mob...For weeks, I was resting in bed. I read the newspapers. They said the two of you were married."

"Yes, they only posted those things to keep Raoul's death hushed. His family didn't want the people of Paris to know that he was killed by a mob. No, instead they made it seem as though he were married and then, a few weeks later, they reposted that he died of a mysterious illness..."

"I'm sorry, Christine..."

"I…I stayed with Raoul's family for a while after that. I stayed for his funeral and then to help out until I could get myself back on my feet. But…But then I found out that I was with child."

Gustave was not Raoul's child… No, he was the bastard of one of those horrible men that had raped Christine. I could understand the world being cruel to me, but for it to be cruel to Christine…Oh, that was a sin. She didn't deserve to be treated like she had been.

"Raoul's family kicked me out. I was forced onto the streets…For a while, I lived in the alleys and shelters. After Gustave was born, I turned to begging. Oh, it was horrible, Erik… I still can't bring myself to hate him, nor can I bring myself to tell him who his father is. I don't even know. So, I tell him that he's dead."

"You did the right thing, Christine," I said, sitting back in my chair. "Children wouldn't understand. Sometimes, it is better that they don't."

"I came to America a few months ago in hopes of making an honest living. I've been at Madame Marcel's ever since."

"Christine, I…" I was speechless against everything. I had nothing to say. "I…If I would have known about what happened sooner, perhaps I could have helped you."

"Don't blame yourself, Erik."

"I'm not," I firmly replied. "I just said I wished I could have helped."

Christine wiped her eyes and glanced down at my gloved hands that were still clasped around her own.

"What about you?" she asked. "Has it been easier living in Coney Island?"

"Nothing is ever easy when it comes to me."

Christine was faster than me, and before I could react, she had slipped one of the black gloves from off of my hand. I tried to snatch my hand away, but she had already gotten glance of the hideous scars I had inflicted upon myself. She gasped, and that's when I tore the glove out of her grasp.

"You have no right to invade my privacy," I snapped, pulling the article back over my fingers.

"Your hand and wrist never looked like that," she cried. "What's happened to you?"

"Why do you care, Christine?" I barked. "You left me that night, remember? I let you go, and you went running. I had no purpose to continue, no purpose in living another day. Does it matter that I attempted suicide a few times? Though, this time, I had believed myself to be succeeding, until Madame Giry barged in and stopped me. I didn't want help…I didn't want to be saved, but she came to me like some sort of angel, believing to be my salvation. Do you know that I can't even piss in peace without that vile woman thinking that I'm murdering myself? That is one of the many reasons why I moved away from her home."

"You scarred yourself, Erik," Christine said. "Your wrists are lumpy and deformed."

"You don't know the half of it, Christine!" I snapped. "You don't even know what horrors lie beneath these very clothes. My boss at Luna Park believes me to be his wonder of the world…If you wish to see it for yourself, I suggest you come by Luna Park some day. No doubt it will churn your stomach as well."

"Erik, please, I didn't mean…"

"You meant everything, Christine. I know what you meant…Look, it's getting late and I'm sure your child will be missing you."

Christine nodded. "You're right."

She and I stood to our feet and began to walk towards her home. Yes, I might have loathed the woman, but I was still a gentleman, and a gentleman wouldn't allow a woman to walk home alone at such a late hour. When we arrived at the fire escape stairs that would lead to her apartment, I bid her goodnight.

"You could come up for a few moments if you'd like?" Christine kindly offered.

I shook my head. "I'd rather not, Christine."

"Erik, does this mean that you and I are friends?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, could I call on you some time? Would that be all right?"

"I wouldn't call us friends, Christine," I warned. "Too many scars, too many horrible memories. Aquantiences is more like it."

"Aquantience it is, Erik…"

Christine smiled a smile I had not seen in over five years. I hardly saw her smile around me, but when she did, it made my heart leap. I waited until the woman was gone, before turning around and heading home to my bed. It was late and I was still in agony. Though, that wasn't to say that my time spent with Christine wasn't a tad bit special…Even if we had our ups and downs, spending time with her made me feel alive again, if only for a few moments.

The following morning, I found myself in bed once again. My back was still bothering me greatly, and once again I didn't have work. I could only be relieved about that…I was about to close my eyes again, when I heard a knock at my door. Ignoring it, I snuggled into my pillow and closed my eyes. The knocking stopped for a few moments, before it began again. Oh, why?! Why couldn't I sleep in peace? I groaned and maneuvered myself out of bed and reached for my mask. It was raining…who in their right mind would be here? I exhaustedly walked down my stairs and towards the door to open it. But instead of opening the door, I peeked through the peep hole, only to spot Christine standing there.

"Erik, are you home?"

I sighed and groaned. "Go away, Christine. Why are you here?"

"I wanted to come by and invite you to breakfast."

"I don't want breakfast, Christine," I snapped. "I want to rest. My back is so sore, that I can't even bear to be out of bed. I'm going to rest…Good day, Christine."

"Surely you can't wash your back and bandage it on your own. I could do it for you."

"No thank you, Christine. I will manage it on my own."

"I'll make you some tea, Erik."

I knew Christine wasn't going to go away unless I allowed her to help me, therefore, I pulled open the door and let her in. She was wet from the rain, but that didn't seem to bother her. She smiled, but I simply closed the door and headed up the stairs with her following me.

"You're only staying a few moments," I said. "Until you dry off."

"Fair enough," she said.

Once inside my room, I crawled back into bed and laid on my stomach. Oh, my shoulders were killing me, but I didn't dare move a muscle. I was so sore…sore and exhausted.

"I'll change the bandages for you."

"I don't need your help," I groaned. "I just want to rest."

"You'll get an infection," she warned.

"Do what you must, Christine. But once you're dry, I want you to leave me be."

Christine began to gently peel away my bandages and placed them aside, gasping at the sight of my maciated back. I knew the sight of my hideous body revolted her, for she had never seen my back before.

"Hideous, is it not?"

"What happened to you?"

"Life happened, Christine," I growled. "And what sort of life do you believe I would have lived? Whips and weapons…That's life, Christine."

"There's so many…"

"Right, and now, because of my boss, there is more. Just stop looking at it and bandage me, woman…"

I hissed when the alcohol burned my flesh, but I held it in. Once my back was bandaged again, I pressed my eyes closed and relaxed against my pillows.

"Your home seems lonely," she replied, placing the bottle of alcohol down on my night table. "And your bed seems uncomfortable."

"It suits me," I groaned.

"Your kitchen is empty…"

I opened my eyes to find her going through my kitchen cabinets.

"Christine, stop snooping…"

"How does a man expect to feed himself with no food in the cupboard?"

"I don't eat, Christine."

"Well, you do have some tea in here. Let me make you a cup of tea before I leave. It's the least I could do…"

Yes, I was exhausted, but I was in the mood for a cup of tea.

"I'm not working tonight," Christine replied, placing my cup of tea down beside me. "I was going to cook dinner for Gustave. Would you like to join us?"

"Christine," I warned. "What did I tell you last night? We are aquantenses."

"What? Can't aquantences eat dinner with one another? Is it a crime to invite a friend to dinner?"

"We're not friends," I barked. "We are hardly that…"

"Well then, Erik," Christine said. "Why don't you come over tonight for dinner because you haven't any food here? It's just an innocent meal, Erik…"

"I'll pass, thank you…"

Christine rolled her eyes and placed a blanket over my back.

"All right then, but if you change your mind, dinner is at seven."

"I won't be there, Christine."

"Suit yourself. I do hope your medicine helps you with your pain."

"It will. Good day, Christine…"

"Have a good day, Erik."

A few moments later, Christine left me alone. Yes, I could have gone and locked the door behind her, but I didn't wish to move. Oh, I was so sore, so sore and exhausted. I closed my eyes and rested, falling asleep once again. When I woke, I decided to get up and sit at my desk. The rain had not stopped, leaving my windows and Coney Island soaking wet. I wasn't sure what time it was, but for some odd reason, I was feeling hungry. Of course…Christine had invited me to dinner…Back in Paris, I had always cooked for her, but never had she once cooked for me. I wasn't fond of eating, nor was I fond of eating with other people. But, she did after all help me with my wounds. Oh, why was I going to allow myself to eat dinner with her? No, I should just stay here, and starve, but for some odd reason, I found it nearly impossible.

"No, I'm not going," I firmly told myself. "I'm going to stay here."

But when the rumble in my stomach wouldn't stop, I knew I would be doing otherwise. It might work…I could go eat at her house and leave. I could still be firm with her and never take our relationship past what we were. Yes, that's exactly what I would do…Christine was not my friend, nor would she ever be. But, seeing that I had become hungry I decided to put aside my anger if only for a few hours. After dressing in my best attire, I threw on my overcoat and fedora and headed out into the rainy night. The streets were slippery and deserted, except for a few children passing by every once in a while from the Coney Island arcades. That's the only place one could still have fun and enjoy themselves in dreadful weather such as this. When I made it to her building, I climbed the stairs of the fire escape and knocked on her door.

"Erik," Christine seemed surprised when she pulled open the door and saw me standing there. Though, she smiled warmly and stepped aside to let me pass.

"You're soaked to the bone," she replied, reaching out to take my cloak and hat.

"No, I'm quite all right, Christine."

When she walked away with my soaked garments, I stood there looking around her home. It was small, but it was homier than my own. There was a family room that was attached to a small kitchen, and a hallway on the other side of the home. I guessed that was where the bedrooms were…

"So, I just set the table," she said. "Dinner will be ready shortly. We're having spagettie, by the way. I hope that suits you?"

"Pasta would be wonderful."

"Oh, you haven't formally met my son," Christine said, turning to face the hallway. "Gustave, we have company…Come out here."

A few moments later, I heard the pitter patter of tiny feet and then, the boy who I had helped find Christine appeared. As soon as he saw me, he ran behind Christine's skirts and buried his face within it.

"Gustave, don't be afraid," Christine replied, patting her child on the back. "I don't understand, he's never like this…"

"I must formally apologize, Christine," I began. "I frightened the child a few days ago when I shouted at you."

The boy peeked out from his mother's skirts, but he didn't speak.

"Gustave, this is Mr. Erik. Can you say hi?"

Gustave shook his head and continued to bury his face into Christine's skirts.

"All right, sweety," Christine cooed. "Go and play. When dinner is ready I shall call for you."

The boy ran into the hallway and left the two of us standing alone.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I never meant to frighten the boy with my horrible temper."

"He'll come around, I'm sure."

There was an awkward silence, before Christine hurried into the kitchen.

"Forgive me, I'm not the best hostess. Would you like a glass of wine?"

"Water, if you have it…"

"Of course," she replied. "Coming right up."

I slowly entered the kitchen and stood there watching Christine move around to fetch me a glass of water. Tonight would surely be awkward and strange, but then again, aquantenses had to start somewhere.

So, another chapter down. I hope everyone is liking my alternate Erik character...Different from my other stories, I think. Anyway, please review!