A/N: Little bit of randomness I think some of you may be interested in, look up the El Ateneo Grand Splendid. Just look it up. It's awesome, and I think a modern day Erik would happily be found lurking through the fiction section.
The next time she woke up, Erik was very nearly asleep as he continued to kneel on the floor beside her bed, hands clasped around hers. She blinked blearily and lolled her head over to see him. Were it not for the tragic pose he was in it would have looked somewhat cute. His dark hair, normally combed back to perfection, was slightly ruffled and sticking up in a few places making her almost laugh. She refrained, knowing how much care he put into his appearance.
Carefully, she slipped her hand out of his and silently crept off to the wash room. She ignored her deathly pallor and limp hair as she tried to look less like a dying girl. She strove not to stare at the rib bones showing through her chest, or how pointed her shoulders looked with her now handle-bar collar bones. She clung to the edge of her sink, not daring to look at her knobbly knees and stick legs. She had been deteriorating for some time now, but with the fever taking all colour from her lips and skin, she truly did look horrid. She only prayed she could slip back into bed before Erik had to see, for it would probably only make him sadder. He took all of this far too personally.
Coming back, she slipped under the covers with what she hoped to be stealth, though she heard every rustle of fabric as a roar. Just as she was struggling to get her other leg to slide over, Erik woke. Thankfully, she had just enough time to get it covered before he completely blinked the sleep from his eyes.
'Did you get up?' He asked, tiredness slowing his already melodious voice. She revelled in it a bit before answering.
'Just for a second.' She shrugged, practically hearing the bones in her creak.
'You should have let me help you.' He told her somewhat sternly.
'I was fine. I wanted to get up before my fever attacked again.' She said, already starting to feel the heat course through her. It was more like a dull ache as it spread from her shoulders up her cheeks as well as down to her lower back. It was when it finally reached the hollow of her breastbone that it really started to get uncomfortable.
Erik watched her be consumed by her illness with saddened eyes. He hated to see her like this. He missed the carefree girl he had come to know, the one with enough fire to melt his icy resolve, the one who was stubborn enough to withstand the gale-force winds of his temper, and the one who always had a sparkle of mischief hidden deep in her soft green eyes. He missed his Christine. But he knew that she was not gone, not really. She was just hiding, somewhere inside of this ailment lay his beautiful Christine, waiting to come out and surprise him.
After a quick bought of coughing, he found that Christine as she looked at him, smiling like she used to. He ignored how thin and pale she had become and focused on that inextinguishable light she always bore inside of her. It was fading a bit, but still there. For him, she would stoke its flame.
'Are you hungry? I could heat up your soup for you again.' He asked, trying to return some of the light she gave him. She needed it more than he did.
'That sounds nice, thank you.' She smiled ever so sweetly.
He left the bedroom door open as he worked in the kitchen, walking back to it more often than he even realised to check on her. She would laugh every time she caught him glancing her way. She began making faces at him when he looked in for the hundredth time in a minute. He was confused by her humour at first, but started to enjoy hearing the silver tones of her laughter.
Unfortunately, her throat had other plans. Her glee quickly turned to coughing and gasping for breath. She retched a bit and finally lay back on her pillow, exhausted. Somehow coughing always found a way to take all energy. It drained all life from a body in just a few partially denied breaths.
Erik came in with her soup to find this. Once more his Christine had faded to the weak and tired girl who lay trapped in her own shell of sickness. He imagined that death would be like cracking that shell, allowing her spirit and warmth to fly free. He wanted her to be free, but he also just wanted her. He wished to have her sitting in his apartment, walking along the wall of the palace, riding her horse alongside him, holding his face in her delicate hands. He shook his head, dispelling that thought before it could grow.
He sat down on the bed beside her, helping her to sit up some, before feeding her. She protested at first, but his stern looks and stronger hand overpowered her as she broke off into coughing.
'Christine, you have to relax. Let me do this for you.' He told her as she pouted but relented.
'I feel like a child.' She huffed indignantly, glaring at the corner.
Erik laughed, but stopped, thinking of Reza. Had he not sat beside Reza's bed, feeding him like this on that night…?
A spurring thorn of possessiveness shot through him as he fought the urge to take her in his arms and hold her close as if he could protect her there. He wanted to be her shield from this killing force, but he knew that lay festering inside of her. He nearly cried at the thought of dark hands reaching around her inner flame to snuff it out.
Christine watched this play of emotions act out through his eyes as he grew more and more upset. Placing a hand on his arm, she successfully snapped him out of it. He looked down at her, worry eating away at him.
She urged him to let her finish the soup, putting aside the overwhelming sweet of the honey. There was more in it this time, and she wondered what flavour he was trying to mask with it. She looked at him sadly as she thought perhaps he was trying to cure her. Her poor, unhappy Erik, trying to keep her from dying.
When he went off to put the bowl away, she glanced over to see her four shining roses, almost glowing in the limited light. She did not mind her room being darker, not knowing if her senses were strong enough to battle the sunlight right now. So much of the world felt meaningless and empty to her. All she found herself caring about was her apartment. That was where Erik was, and that was all that mattered. She found her universe shrinking steadily to just him and Nadir, should the Daroga care to visit. She had not asked him to, knowing it would be bad enough for him to endure the loss of Reza. She did not wish to cause him unnecessary pain of watching her go. She had thought the same for Erik, not long ago, but now she found herself dependent upon him. She worried that should he wish to leave she would not let him. She heard her unspoken pleas and begs to make him stay. Tears pricked her eyes at the idea of his back being the last thing she ever saw as he left her.
'Christine? What's wrong?' His silky voice pulled her from her self-torment.
Erik was concerned as she looked up at him with such desperation and utter sorrow. She reached out her feeble arms to him and he took her hands, sinking effortlessly to her side as tears rolled down her hollowing cheeks.
'I'm so sorry.' She wept.
'About what? Christine, you've done nothing wrong. Why are you crying?' He found himself almost pleading with her to stop crying. He hated to see his Christine sad over anything.
'I want you to stay with me, but I know I shouldn't force you. I'm so sorry! I'm breaking my promise. I'm just so afraid. I don't want to be alone.'
Erik looked at her, mystified. She had told him earlier that day that she would never be alone, but now…He realised she had lied. She had been trying to be strong and not bind him, but her hope and resolve were loosening. He brushed her cheek, just barely touching her, to wipe away a tear.
'Christine, I will not leave you. I already promised to stay. You have become more to me than I ever thought possible. I will stay. You will not be alone.' And you will not die, he thought to himself, glad he had upped her dosage of his medicine. He prayed with all he had that it would be enough. He was not sure what he would do should he fail.
She lay there, sniffling here and there as she tried to calm down. His soothing voice helped her to breath, but she feared she would fall asleep.
As if trying to help, her fever sent a sharp chill down her spine. She shivered and gasped as the complete cold washed over her. She felt like someone had put her at the top of a mountain wearing nothing but her nightgown. Her teeth clattered as she shook.
Erik softly tried to assure her it was only her fever, that she was actually frightfully warm, but his plaintive looks did little to stop her shivering.
'Erik, please, I'm cold.' She held out her arms to him while she lay on her side. 'Please,' she begged one more time.
He stared at her a moment. Was she asking what he thought she was asking? He felt like he was in a dream as she took his arms and pulled them to her, obviously trying to get the rest of him to follow. He could not think straight as he found himself crawling onto the bed, still on top of the covers, and laying down before her as she buried herself into his embrace. It was only when one of her shivers shook through him as well that he realised where he was. He looked down in awe of the little being in his arms. He was in her bed…with her! He bit down on his tongue as he stayed these thoughts. She was sick, possibly still dying if his medicine had failed, and all she wanted was warmth he told himself over and over.
He almost growled as his body tried to fight him. He cursed his humanity at being so driven in his desires. He was only to hold her. Hearing how she whimpered into him at her unbearable cold put all of these treacherous thoughts out of his mind. It calmed his heart and he once more returned to being her sweet and protecting Erik. Yes, for her he would be anything she needed.
He rubbed her arms and back, trying to make her warm, though he knew it was only the fever. She seemed pacified by this as she slowly started to drift off into sleep. Erik felt her tightness wash away as she relaxed in his arms. All tension in her muscles ebbed away with each slowing breath. She calmed, letting her mind fly away to the land of nod.
He continued to hold her, bound by her closeness. She nuzzled into him, smiling and humming as she found further comfort in his presence. He would never tire of this. He would never find anything more beautiful in this world than his darling Christine, slipping off to sleep in his arms, pressed against him. He stroked her hair, savouring each sensation her touch brought. He felt her hum and shift as she started to dream. He watched her sweetly as she smiled and snuggled in somehow closer. He only wrapped his arms around her tighter, wondering if he could absorb her, casting off the darkness for her. But he knew she would not come back pure once being within him. She would not be the same. His mother had assured him on more than one occasion that he would break anything beautiful.
Bringing his head down to rest on hers, he let his silent tears slip free. He thought of what would happen if she did recover. She would still be in this Hell, having been denied the chance for Heaven by his own selfish desires. He could not, would not let her go like that, though. He could not bear to think of his life without her. She was so perfect, and she actually wanted him to be with her. She was different from Luciana. She had only been morbidly fascinated by him, never clinging like Christine. It had been a passing fancy, a game, to her. But Christine…Oh, Christine. She was different. She saw him as a friend, not a challenge to overcome. She saw him as an equal, not some magical mystery. She saw him for who he was, not who she imagined him to be. That was what made her all the more beautiful in his eyes. She understood that he was not without flaws or shadows, she accepted that and still valued his company. She saw his darkness and helped him to walk towards the light instead. She dragged him from the pits of his despair and unending depression to a higher path. She was his religion. She was his angel to lead him and save him from his solitude.
These were the thoughts that lit his face with an adoring smile as he slipped into sleep, himself. These were the things that made him wonder if perhaps Nadir had been right. What if this was love?
Christine's eyes flickered open to find a perplexing wall in front of her. It seemed to be made of fabric and swaying softly in and out. Looking up, she saw this white wall joined by black. Finally it dawned on her as she lifted her head to see Erik was still lying beside her, arms wrapped protectively around her. He had stayed with her after she had so unceremoniously begged him to. She remembered his own promise of remaining by her side and smiled. He truly was far too good to her.
Shifting slightly, he leaned back, still sound asleep. She watched him smile in his dream as he rubbed her shoulder absently.
'He really does care about you.' Came a familiar Persian voice from the doorway.
Christine looked to see Nadir, arms crossed over his chest, leaning into the doorframe as he smirked. He held three roses, which he walked over and put in the vase, replacing the four as Erik was not in a position to switch them out himself.
'Yes, I suppose he does.' She replied, looking at the masked man dreamily.
'How are you feeling?' The Daroga asked somewhat ludicrously.
She shrugged. 'Still dying, as far as I can tell.' She tried to joke, but it did little to lighten the mood. 'I wasn't expecting to see you here.'
'I thought I'd come by and make sure Erik wasn't wasting away with you. I practically had to wrestle him to the couch the other day just so he could get some sleep. He hasn't really left your side since you fainted on him.' Nadir told her, taking Erik's chair and scooting a little closer to the bed.
Christine nodded solemnly. 'I'm selfish.' She watched the man tense, about to tell her she was wrong, but she continued. 'I wanted him to stay. I know he made a promise and all, but I can't bring myself to make him break it. I want him to be free, Nadir, but dying scares me. I know there's nothing I can do about it, and everyone goes eventually, but I'm still frightened. Do you think me a bad person for saying so? For clinging to someone as I drown?' She looked at him.
Nadir sighed. 'You two are going to make me a sage with your deep questions of morality, I swear.' He laughed lightly. He looked up at her with that wonderfully alive sparkle in his eyes. He looked like her father in that instant, and she suddenly became glad he had visited. She needed this.
'Christine,' he began, leaning forward a bit, while keeping his voice low so as not to wake Erik. 'I think you are what you have always been. You are kinder than you think, and more loving than you know. You've always wanted to look after others and protect those who could not protect themselves, but now the roles are switched. When Reza wanted you with him, did you think him selfish?'
'No, of course not. I would have done anything for that child.' She told him, noting the sad smile that spread across his face.
'And so would Erik. You are his greatest treasure, and he would move Heaven and Earth to see you safe. You're not selfish, and you are far from intentionally binding. You are a blessing to us all, Christine. There is nothing we would not do for you, because you have done so much for us.' He told her honestly.
Christine nodded at his words, looking once more up at Erik. She knew Nadir was right, but something still lay pressing on her mind. She was still worried, and perhaps it had led to all of her other concerns.
'I worry for Erik.' She admitted.
'Oh?' Nadir looked at her curiously, wondering if she had figured something very crucial out.
'I worry that when I'm gone he will never be happy. I do not want him to mourn me, Nadir. I want him to leave this place, to be free, to use his talents all over the world. I-I want him to fall in love. I want him to find someone who will see all of the beautiful good in him and love him to the ends of the earth. I want him to be happy. I want him to forget all about me and simply move on. I don't wish to be remembered.' She let her tears slide down her cheeks as Nadir sat, watching her like a statue. 'He is such a good man. He can be so much so long as he is with someone who believes in him. He has known such loss and cruelty. I want him to know light and love and happiness. I want him to live where he can be all that he can be. He is so talented and kind, I-I just want him to be happy.' She finally wept, letting her head burry into his chest as she wrapped her arms around him.
Nadir knew her sobs were too strong to notice the hands which now coiled around her, or the tears that splashed into her hair. He knew Erik had been awake since the moment he had come in. He knew that the man had heard everything. He knew that none of what she had wished for would come true if she died.