Hi guys! I know it has been too long since my last update but things have been crazy with work. I finally got some time recently before I squashed my thumb in a door and couldn't use it for a few days. It wasn't broken but they were worried that the wound would open. Random, I know. Now I have the flu. It's one thing after another! I digress!

Anyway thanks for all the reviews, please know that I will not abandon this story or Time is Short! I am still very much involved with them both!

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber

Christine

"So then…" I began, turning around to face him as we entered the estate. Many of the lamps inside had been doused by this time, allowing the moon to become the primary source of light, streaming in through the skylights of the magnificent foyer and filling it with a pale, lonely blue.

Foyer…

Atrium…

I smiled to myself. Once, I had mentioned the foyer of the Opera to Erik and he had corrected me, telling me that in architecture, it was called an atrium. I shivered as the lack of his presence really began to set in.

"What exactly was this in aid of?" I asked, my gaze shifting from my surroundings to him. He looked to me as I spoke.

"In aid of…? I…"

He jumped slightly as one of his staff made to remove his coat from this shoulders. This was slightly unsettling, partly because he seemed uncharacteristically on edge, and it also served as a reminder that at no point in our journey had he offered me his coat. I wouldn't have taken it but the gesture would have reassured me that if his propriety remained, perhaps part of him did also.

"I want you to be comfortable here." He continued, ill-at ease. He had been this way for some time, but tonight I was really able to take note of it. His once rosy complexion had turned wan and the shade under his eyes suggested that he probably hadn't found sleep in several days.

"You don't have a plan, do you?" I probed.

His staff filtered away as our awkward conversation continued. Several of them afforded me strange looks before leaving, but nothing more.

"Do you honestly think that Erik will turn himself in? That he would make it so easy for you? And even if he does, what then? What do you expect to do with me? Would you have us form a life from hatred?"

He sighed.

"Christine, the plan is as I told you. As I told you both. This has never been about you. Of course, it is about your safety but never was the goal for me to take you prisoner. It was never to see you unhappy. I have you here to draw him out…"

"And you refuse to see that such a plan could affect my happiness? You cannot see past your own selfish gain."

"Selfish? Christine, this is for your safety! Not mine!"

"Ah – so then it is about me?"

"Y-yes… about your wellbeing."

"And what gives you the right to determine my wellbeing, Raoul? How can you claim to know what is best for me when you scarcely know me at all? Past the age of seven, that is!"

"It is clear to see, Christine! I do not need to be a genius to surmise that murderers are bad company to keep!"

"The company I keep is my choice! Whatever he is or whatever you think you may know about him, it is up to me!"

"Whatever I think I know? Do you deny that he contributed directly to Buquet's demise?!"

"No, I do not… I…"

Erik had murdered Buquet. He had done it and he had admitted the fact to my face. It isn't something one readily forgets, but it had nothing to do with Raoul!

"How can you defend such a man?"

"It is none of your concern!" I argued, once more finding my voice. "I do not belong to you! I never will!"

"Christine… once, I had hoped that my affections toward you might be returned."

"That will never happen!" I spat.

He nodded and stepped toward me, offering his hands in gesture of conversation.

"…And while I am beginning to see that that may never come to pass, I still care for you, and that is why I…

"You do not care for me. You cannot. Perhaps you did, but no man who uses a woman as a chess piece; as collateral in blackmail can claim to care for her. I may be naïve, but I know that much."

"Christine, please… that isn't what this is…"

"That little boy by the sea…" I scoffed and looked down, tears pricking at my eyes; tears for what might've been, for a time that I could never regain, for a lost friend… "He is truly lost. All that matters to you now is finding Erik, the chase… the game… What happens when you do? What happens when he is gone? What happens to me? Did you spare a single thought?"

"I… I know it is difficult…" He stammered.

"Where is my cell?"

"What?"

"Where am I to be kept?"

"Christine, please don't be like that."

"And just how would you like me to be? I am a prisoner, am I not?"

"I do not wish for you to feel that way."

"Is it not that way?"

"Christine…"

He started toward me once more. I took a step backward.

"Am I able to leave? Walk out through those doors?" I gestured to the two large, embellished doors through which we had just entered.

"They… they have been locked…"

"And if I asked you to unlock them?"

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"Do not put me in this position, please… I do not wish for this to sound like a threat, but…"

"…But Erik will suffer if I do?"

"Listen, I had called off my search in order to reason with you both. I could have had them search the cellars after him but I deemed it a waste of time and man power when I knew that I would be able to lure him out just as easily…"

"You are so generous." I sneered.

"I am not threatening you, Christine… but know that I have given him this time, and I could revoke it just as easily."

"You would not find him." I sneered, becoming frustrated.

"Are you willing to chance that?"

I looked at him. My gaze did not falter as I stared into those steely, grey eyes. He was threatening me, but I would not let him intimidate me. He would not win this. I had to find a way to contact Erik, to tell him not to give in, nor to seek me out. It was too dangerous. I would find my way back to him, but it would have to be on my terms. I would see him again, even if it took years, I would. In the meantime, I would play le Vicomte's games. I would join him in his dance. I would say what I needed to say, and act how I needed to act. I could do this… this was simply another hurdle for Erik and I to conquer. Anything was bearable as long as it led back to him and this would… as long as I could devise a plan, this would. I looked down in an attempt to mask my newfound elation.

"Where is my room?"

"Let me take you…"

"Please. Don't." I protested. I could not let him know of the sudden sense of ease that had just overcome me. "Just tell me where it is." I added, my gaze still stuck on the marble floor beneath me. "I wish to be alone."

He sighed.

"Alright… this-this must be difficult." He reached out for my shoulder. I stepped backward, genuinely vexed by the idea of being touched by him. "Up the stairs… Your room is the second on the left."

I began to walk away.

"The key is inside. You shall have your privacy while you are here and I shan't invade it…"

I did not acknowledge him, simply smiled once more- this time it was visible. A locked door… that was a start. I would begin planning as soon as I had closed and locked the door behind me. My journey back to Erik would begin tonight.

Erik

I awoke to sounds in my kitchen, a slight panic arose in me before recalling the events prior to my falling asleep. I was not being robbed… it was simply Madame Giry. The thought of someone in my house, coming and going as they pleased left me ill at ease. Ordinarily, I would never allow it, but I had to remind myself that these were not ordinary circumstances.

I sat up and slipped on my mask and wig. My self-conscious tendencies began to creep back as I began to feel more myself and Madame Giry had seen enough of my semblance of a face for the time being. My chest was burning, but the pain was not crippling. My stomach wound ached, but it was not debilitating. More than anything, the pain was emotional. Deep down I knew that Madame Giry spoke sense about Raoul, that he would not hurt her, but how could I really be sure? The last words I had spoken to Madame Giry had been positive ones. I had assured her that I would solve this. I had always considered myself to be intelligent; a problem solver, but now came the time to action those words and I hadn't a clue where to begin. And all the while the same words niggled at my every thought…

You will never hold her again.

You will fail to concoct a plan. You will fail as you always do and she will be gone.

You will die.

I stood up, exited the bedchamber and walked to the edge of my lake, peering into the cold, stillness as I often did when I needed to think.

I needed Christine. I couldn't think when I was so far away from her. I sighed and looked down at my feet. They were freezing, why hadn't I worn shoes?

"Should you be out of bed?" Madame Giry's voice called to me, knocking me off my train of thought.

"Who can say?" I responded, still looking at my feet. I was never in the best of moods upon waking up, and this time was much worse than the rest. There is nothing quite like waking from a terrible nightmare, only to find that it is in fact, reality.

Either way, I was in no mood for one of the famed Giry lectures.

"When did you return?" I asked, sleepily reaching beneath my shirt and scratching my lower back as I approached her in the kitchen.

"Perhaps an hour ago… I did not wish to wake you."

I waved my hand dismissively.

"It is fine. However, I am surprised that I didn't hear you enter. My hearing is usually quite keen…"

"You were exhausted, I expect."

"I am always exhausted." I remarked, leaning on the counter top with my head in my hands. "It should make no difference."

"Even so, you needed the rest."

I nodded, choosing not to further the argument.

"And what of your rest?"

She looked up at me, one eyebrow cocked.

"Have you softened in your old age?" She asked.

I mirrored her expression.

"Old age?! I am younger than you, Madame! And what could you mean by that?"

"Oh… simply taking note of your sense of empathy."

"What is to be noted?"

"Nothing! I am simply teasing."

I rolled my eyes.

"Please, spare me this diatribe until I have fully woken up."

"…And when, pray tell will you be awake enough for diatribe? Or have you forgotten that we have a rescue to plan?" She handed me a cup of steaming liquid. "Here you are. I might've known that someone such as you would have coffee in their home."

"How could I have forgotten." I remarked bitterly, holding the cup in both hands for warmth. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"You simply seem the type."

"Well… truthfully I wasn't aware that I had any left."

I eyed her warily before taking a sip.

"Well done." I said with a guarded smile. "This is exactly how I have it."

"A bucket load of sugar and no milk?"

"Three teaspoons…" I frowned. "…hardly a bucket load."

"You have a sweet tooth, I recall." She smiled guardedly. "However, there was no milk. So that part was all coincidental."

I scoffed.

"What else of my dietary preferences do you recall, Madame?"

"I do not forget so easily. We were quite close, once. I used to steal breakfast pastries for you when you first arrived here, had you forgotten?"

I smiled and looked down.

"Yes, I had…" Until now.

"Yes well, I had not." She handed me a Gateau Basque, something I had not tasted in over a decade… Mostly due to laziness or reluctance to leave my home.

"Where did you find this?" I asked, hastily taking a bite. Usually, due to my mask I would not eat in someone else's company, but I was beyond famished and one pastry would not make me too uncomfortable.

"I stopped at the boulangerie before returning. I did not want to spend too much time in the Opera itself, lest I be questioned by anyone else."

"Well thank you." I said. I looked up. "'Else?' You saw someone of significance?"

She nodded.

"I had brief conversations with both Meg and Monsieur Andre."

I rolled my eyes; a sarcastic gesture directed more toward the management than her daughter. One of many.

"And what did he want?"

"He wanted to know where Christine was…"

"Of course…"

"…And he wanted to know if I had spoken to you."

"Really?" I asked, my eyebrow cocked.

"Yes. He thinks that the disappearance of Christine is somehow linked to your absence."

I scoffed.

"Well, it is."

"Erik."

Her tone of reprimand was a familiar one.

"Well, what would you have me do? Show myself again? Announce my presence at the top of the grand escalier? It wouldn't be very threatening this time though, would it? Not in my state." I thought for a moment. "I would like to show myself again. It would certainly do them good."

I sat down at my table, a childish smile still tugging at my lips. I couldn't help myself when it came to those managers.

"Why do you take this lightly?"

"Believe me, Madame." I snickered. "I am aware of the gravity of the situation."

"Then why do you laugh?!"

"Because I don't know what else to do!"

Finally, the smile left my voice and I had the overwhelming desire to weep… but I did not.

"We are sitting here, wasting time on small talk, ignoring the real issue and… I know that you are expecting me to solve it! So find a solution! I know that everyone is, but what if I cannot!?" I pushed my chair back and stood up, slowly backing away from her.

"Erik, do not do this."

"Do what?! You know exactly how I am about to act? Oh, am I so predictable now? Because you've spent so much time with me? You do not know me! I am not the child that you rescued all those years ago, Madame. Do not fool yourself into believing that we are anything more than acquaintances!"

"Why are you saying these hurtful things?"

"Because that is who I am! You think simply because you bring me a pastry and speak of a time years ago, that we can go back to that time? That I can be that person again?! I will never be that person again! And… since then I have done things… such… such terrible things!"

"I know what you have done!"

"You do not! Since we met I have… I have lived a life… a life of sin. I have done things that even you could not look past. No one should have to look past them. Christine should not. Perhaps… Perhaps she is better off where she is."

"Christine is sensible enough and intelligent enough to make her own choice! Do not discredit her. Do not discredit yourself!"

"Discredit myself? What worth do I have?"

"Erik, you have such worth! Such skill! I…"

"What good are skills if I am a terrible person?"

"You are not a terrible person! You have done terrible things, yes, but they will only define you if you let them! I see you! The real you! I am one of the few people who does! All those things that Christine said to you on the stairs, I know them to be true!"

I shifted where I stood.

"Do you trust Christine?" She asked after a moment of silence.

"I… why are you asking that? Of course. Why?"

"If you trust her, you should trust her judgement. She chose you. She wants you."

I smiled sadly.

"She does not know of everything I have done..."

"Well, if you wish it you have a lifetime to tell her."

Of course I wished it.

Of course.

Slowly, calmly I sat down once more. After a few moments, Madame Giry did also.

As I took another hesitant bite of my pastry I thought struck me. A memory…

The letter…

Christine's father!

Christine's father was such an important part of her life. I knew that more than anyone. After years of suffering, tears, questioning her place in the world… all of which I had witnessed; been part of, helped her through… Finally, there was something… something for her to hold onto. What were the chances of her father being alive? I did not know, but at the very least there was information. A step further in her recovery perhaps, a step closer to letting go; some kind of closure? Whatever it was, I wanted it for her and it had all been delayed thanks to that boy! I found myself loathing le Vicomte more than ever. The death of Christine's father had brought us together; it was how we had met. I was not proud of any of it, in fact I still hated myself for how I had handled it, and though Christine had forgiven me I knew that this new path was something we needed to undertake together; a final catharsis for both Christine and her father, and for Christine and myself.

Where had this letter come from?

Madame Giry.

Who had known Gustave Daae before his passing?

Madame Giry.

"Madame." I began before clearing my throat. This was going to be awkward. Before I knew it, my whole life would be up for discussion; When I had first met Christine… the music lessons… everything! Madame Giry already knew of most of it, yes, but what she didn't know she would ask. That much I was sure of. Either way I had to do it for Christine…

"Madame, the letter…" I began.

She looked up.

"The letter from Christine's father. I must know… How did it come to be in your possession?"

The woman before me looked down. She was silent for a moment. A long moment such that I saw sit to prompt her to speak, but I did not.

Finally, she took a deep breath and met my gaze once more.

"Did you read it?"

"Yes." I nodded vigorously. I had been hoping for more upon an opening statement.

"All of it?"

"Yes." I repeated.

She sighed.

"I really think that this time would be better spent on a plan…"

"Madame, please." I said, cutting her off. I reached across the table and placed my hand over hers; a gesture that she seemed just as uncomfortable with as I. I was only just becoming accustomed to physical contact with Christine. After a moment or so, I removed my hand. "I must know." I said.

"Very well…"

A shorty- I know. I have a flu just now, but i wanted to upload something for you guys! Let me know what you think!