AN: I had a great weekend and had a lot of thoughts about how this chapter should play out - read'n review and let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: Again, I barely own my laptop, let alone book rights.

The car ride to Mrs. Giry's home was filled with a thick silence. Raoul had been downstairs in the lobby, pacing, and as soon as the elevator doors opened he grabbed the handles of her chair and breezed out of there without pause. Christine had buckled herself into the car as he put away her chair, and he then he put the car into drive and they were off.

As he drove he kept glancing over to her but her head was turned out as if to peer out the window. He could see her face reflected against the dark of the night and the city lights. Her mouth was bent at a sad angle.

"He was wearing a mask," Raoul sighed at last. They may as well deal with the masked elephant in the room. "Who does that?"

Christine's back straightened in the seat. "He has his reasons," she said at last. "That doesn't excuse being rude about it. He's wearing a mask, it's not like he was holding a bloody hatchet and wearing a hockey mask!"

Raoul scoffed and shook his head. "Did you know the receptionist downstairs didn't have any records on him? I checked, Chris, and she didn't know who I was talking about."

Christine didn't even flinch at that. "Oh, so you're surprised other people haven't met him? You, who wouldn't stop gawking or trying to convince me to run away?"

Raoul smacked the steering wheel with his free hand. "Damnit, listen to me on this one, Chris! You don't know why he's wearing that thing and-and I don't like the way he looked at you!"

"I don't have to know what he looks like," she replied hotly. "And my father trusted him enough to work with him, so why shouldn't I?"

"Because you can't see him!" He ground out. Christine went deathly still and Raoul, realizing his mistake, sighed and tried to continue with a gentler tone. "You're still adjusting to- to being blind, to everything that happened after the accident. You're vulnerable and this guy knows it-"

"-and when did losing my eyesight become losing my right to make my own decisions?"

Her voice was quiet and hard in a way that he had never heard it. He pulled the car into Mrs. Giry's driveway and turned off the engine. Christine was already unbuckling her seatbelt. Raoul put a hand on hers.

"Christine, I didn't mean it like that. I just – I don't want to see you hurt again. I'm here, with you, to guard you and to guide you."

Christine took a deep breath, then unlocked the car door. "Did you ever consider that that's not what I want?"

The moment was ended when the porch light came on and Mrs. Giry came out of the house and hurried to the driveway to meet them. Raoul popped the trunk and helped Mrs. Giry get the chair out while Christine carefully helped herself out of the passenger's side door.

"My dear girl, it's going to rain again soon," Mrs. Giry fretted. "Let's get you inside and settled with a hot cup of cocoa, yes?"

She looked up at Raoul with a smile. "Will you be joining us?"

Raoul shut the car door and leaned on it, smiling apologetically at the older woman. "I'm afraid I have an econ exam to study for. But I'll take a rain check."

Mrs. Giry nodded. "I'll hold you to it."

Christine said nothing during the exchange, but Raoul could tell she was still upset. He stifled his own anger and bent down to her ear.

"I'm sorry, Chris. I am." And he pressed a kiss to her cheek. She tilted up, considering his words, and nodded.

"Will you call me tomorrow?"

Raoul nodded, then remembered. "Yes, of course, I'll call once I'm done with classes."

She gave him a little smile, and then she and her guardian were heading inside. Raoul watched them a moment, a gnawing in his soul.

"I don't know your face no more," he watched them as they closed the door. "Or feel the touch that I adore."

Raoul walked towards the car, biting back a frustrated scream. "I don't know your face no more …. It's just a place I'm looking for."

He unlocked the car and buckled up, starting the car again. But instead of driving off, he slouched forward on the steering wheel, staring at the house where Christine now lived.

"We might as well be strangers in another town. We might as well be living in a different world …. We might as well, we might as well …"

Unwilling to finish that thought, he put the car in reverse and then took off. Maybe he was just tired.

Nadir wasn't surprised to see Erik hadn't gone home yet. The man used his private lab space and office like a sanctuary, and had even spent nights in there when work had consumed him. But the sight before him made him light with hope, and he approached with care as though approaching a wild creature he did not want to frighten.

Erik was at his desk, Christine's head scans lit up on the wall, and medical journals covering his desk. He was currently pouring over one text carefully, mouth fixed with purpose.

"You're still here," Nadir went with the least-charged words he could, licking his lips. "It's nearly midnight, you know."

Erik didn't halt his work but gave a hasty nod. Nadir considered this a good sign – he normally didn't like to be interrupted once he was intrigued by a puzzle. If Christine was the puzzle, he'd be more than happy to make sure the rest of the world didn't take any of Erik's attention.

"I'll just…confirm Christine's appointment for next week, shall I?" Nadir offered quietly. At that Erik's eyes did come unglued from the page to shoot up at him. Nadir felt a moment of panic, hoping that he'd not presumed too much, but Erik just nodded his head again.

"Yes, that's…she'll be ready to have the stitches out by then."

Nadir knew what that meant – she'd be moved on to physical therapy and recovery. Did that mean Erik would no longer see the girl? Then why was he looking at her head scans?

"Good night, Nadir." Erik waved him off, and Nadr was sure Erik already knew what was on his mind. But tonight was encouraging, at least Erik was intrigued by Christine's case. Hope was blossoming against the odds.

"Good night, Erik."

It was early yet, not even the sun had risen but the rain splashed heavy on the rooftop. Christine sat on her sill and heard the drops hit her closed window, leaning against it to feel the gentle tremble of the pane. It was cool against the heat of her cheek.

She hadn't slept particularly well, thinking too much about some things and too little about others. Her soul was stirred – stirred to frustration, stirred to wanting, stirred to everything but sleep.

Unbeknownst to her, Erik was also restless and unrested. Escaping the heft of his work at last he sat on the hood of his car, his back to the windshield, and watched the dark sky as it pelted his with rain. He could barely feel the cold seep into his suit and trickle through his dark hair and down his mask.

He felt her hand in his again. Gentle, trusting, seeking …

He wanted to see her again.

"You shine like the moon over water, and you darken the sky when you leave." He looked down at his hand, flexing the muscles as if he could hold her hand again. "Now I want to know how to keep you. Return to me."

Was he losing his mind? Why was he looking at the journals, looking at those scans? Why had he let her touch his mask? And why was all of this happening now? Why now?

And even though those questions had no obvious answers, they did nothing to quell what was happening to him.

"Everything I tell you has been spoken, and everything I say was said before. But everything I feel is for the first time – and everything I feel, I feel for you." And he laughed breathlessly and raised his face to the rain.

"I am here, calling the wind. I am here – calling your name. I am here calling you back. Return to me."

...

And as Christine sat in her sill she found her hand reaching up to the window latch. She flicked it open and was rewarded with a gust of wet air – refreshing and mossy and real in a way the air in this house was not.

She sat up and gripped the frame; she scooted and put one leg out, then the other, until she was sitting comfortably out on her window. The rain streaked down her legs and the wind played with her hair, and a thrill of actual joy struck her heart like lightning.

She wished she could talk to Erik about this feeling.

"I am here calling the wind – I am here, calling your name. I am here, calling you back … return to me."

Please review? Please?

Songs Used:

'We Might as Well be Strangers' by Keane

'Return to Me' by October Project