Christine furrowed her brow as her fingers twisted around the length of knitted yarn in her lap. No stitch she tried would cooperate with her, and frustration was starting to set in. It had been nearly ten years since her last feeble attempt at knitting, but she hadn't expected it to pose such a challenge. A dull throb formed behind her eyes, and she shoved the knitting-needles and all-into the basket at her feet. No matter what she tried, nothing worked; it always ended up a knotted mess.

Erik was gone. It had been nearly three days since she last saw him. Hope filled her heart though; he promised to return soon. When the time is right. Christine rubbed her temples and sighed.

"When will it be the right time?"

A light knock at the door caused her to startle.

"Who is it?"

The door opened without an answer. Christine's eyes narrowed and then darkened when she saw Raoul stroll into her bedroom.

"Get out," she sneered.

"Come now, Christine, I'm only here as a courtesy to the doctor."

That single word made her livid. "Doctor? I won't see that damnable man. Not again! Not after last time."

"I know. Which is why I found a different one for you."

As though on cue, a middle aged man with red hair and a matching beard entered the room, his green eyes smiling at her. "Good afternoon, Madame. I'm Dr. Lebeau. Would you be willing to have a bit of a chat with me today?"

Christine's eyes darted up and down the man's frame, looking for any sign of his true intentions. "What's this all about?"

"Monsieur le Vicomte has told me of your melancholy and that you're not sleeping well. I'm only here to help you."

Claudette stepped into the room and didn't even hesitate as she brushed past Raoul. She approached Christine with a reassuring look and reached for her hand. "I'll stay with you, Madame."

The anger in her eyes wavered a bit and leaned back in the chair. She squeezed Claudette's hand and looked back at the doctor. "Has Monsieur le Vicomte also informed you that I am a prisoner in my own chambers?"

"What? Christine," Raoul protested, a look of utter confusion on his face. "You're not-"

"Please excuse us, Monsieur. I'd like to speak with her alone."

He began to protest, but only released a defeated sigh as he nodded and slipped through the doorway. Dr. Lebeau took note of Christine's immediate change in demeanor and took a seat next to her. No words were spoken and a heavy silence hung between them. Finally, he smiled a bit and gestured towards her.

"I'm here only to listen, Madame."

She chewed her lip and glanced up at Claudette, who nodded. "He won't let me leave."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it's true," she snapped. "I'm a prisoner in my own home! Raoul won't let me go. Not unless I..."

Dr. Lebeau leaned forward. "Unless you what?"

"He wants a child. An heir, to be exact. And I can't give him that." Her lip trembled as the words formed in her throat. "So... I'm here until I die."

Claudette wrapped her arm around Christine's shoulders and bit back a cry. "That won't happen, Madame," she whispered.

Dr. Lebeau looked horrified. "Monsieur de Chagny told you that?"

"He said I'm to stay in this room until I come to my senses. 'What if I die in here?' I asked." Her face twisted in anger, mocking Raoul's rage. "'Then so be it!'"

The doctor was silent for a moment as he studied her. "He didn't say anything about such a conversation. The two of you argued?"

"Oh you could say that," Christine scoffed. "After he confessed that he would kill our child if he was-." Her voice cracked and she covered her mouth to stop a cry from escaping.

"If he was what?"

"I won't repeat it. That's when I slapped him and he locked me in this room. I haven't left it since."

"When did this happen?"

"A few days ago."

"Monsieur told me that you haven't left this room for longer than that."

Her arms circled around her stomach as she bit her lip. "When that other doctor told me I couldn't have children... I cried for days."

"You've had melancholy."

Christine nodded. "I always wanted children. And now...I have nothing."

"You have your husband. I know he cares for you."

"No. Not anymore. Now I'm only a burden." Her eyes wandered to the window as a heavy sigh filled her lungs.

"What is it?"

"Nothing." She looked back at the doctor and shook her head. "It's nothing."

"Tell me about your dreams."

"My dreams? Why?"

Dr. Lebeau scribbled a note in his book and gave her a reassuring look. "It will help me help you."

Christine's face pinched and she half-heartedly shrugged. "They're only dreams. Nothing extraordinary, I suppose."

"People you know?"

"Yes. Some are old memories from when Raoul and I were children. He always fancied me," she said with the trace of a smile. As she lapsed into a slight trance, her face fell as her hands tightened around one another.

"You remember another dream, Madame?"

"Hmm? Oh." Christine nodded and looked down at her hands. "I... still dream about the Opera, and... the fire."

"The Opera Populaire?"

She swallowed. "Yes. I was there."

"What is your dream about?"

"I'm always trapped inside. I can't get out. And," she paused, "I'm trying to find someone; someone who is being pulled away from me." A thin layer of sweat shone across her forehead.

"Who?"

"I never see... But the feeling of being separated from... I wake up with a horrible pain in my chest, as though my heart breaks every time." A single tear trailed down her cheek, which she quickly wiped away.

"You lost someone in the fire?"

Christine swallowed. I thought I did. "Yes."

"What else happens in your dream?"

"I hear a voice in the distance...singing."

"Is that who you're searching for?"

Christine held her breath and tried not to shake. "It's only a dream," she muttered to herself.

"Madame? Are you all right?"

Claudette frowned and pressed her hand against Christine's brow. "She feels feverish, Doctor."

"Enough talk for now," Dr. Lebeau said as he stood to help Christine from her chair. "You need to lie down."

Christine didn't argue and allowed the two of them to help her back to bed. Claudette pulled the blankets over her and pressed a small towel to her forehead. Dr. Lebeau opened his bag, rifled through several items, and then removed a small bottle filled with a clear liquid. He handed it to Claudette and closed his bag.

"Three drops of that with her tea before bed," he told the maid. "It will help her sleep."

"No," Christine protested, "I don't want it."

Dr. Lebeau squeezed Christine's hand and smiled a bit. "It's to stop those dreams, Madame. So you can sleep."

"No! No morphine!"

Claudette looked between the doctor and Christine. "Milady?"

She glared at Claudette and almost growled, "No morphine."

Dr. Lebeau pulled the maid aside and lowered his voice. "She needs it. Sneak it into her tea and she won't know the difference."

"I won't do that," Claudette gasped. "If she doesn't want it, I won't give it to her."

"Either you give her the medicine, or her melancholy and nightmares will only get worse," he hissed. "I'll return in a week to check on her."

Christine watched the doctor leave, her eyes unblinking with suspicion. When the door closed behind him, she looked up at Claudette, who still held the bottle in her hand. "Pour that poison into the chamber pot."

"Madame, it's-"

"Do as I say!"

Claudette flinched and quickly nodded. When she turned to the small pot in the corner of the room though, she slipped the bottle into her apron pocket. "It's gone, milady."

But Christine had rolled away from her and pulled the blankets over her head. A small muffled cry rose and faded with each breath she took. As Claudette drew closer, she could barely hear a name on Christine's lips.

"Who, milady?"

"Go away," Christine cried. "Leave me!"

"I... I can fetch the Vicomte-"

"No!" Christine sat up in bed to stare daggers at her. "Keep that son of a whore away from me!"

Claudette took two large steps back, her hands rising in defense. "Madame, I only meant-"

"Get out."

She collapsed back on the bed and gripped the blankets over her. At first Claudette considered checking on her, but the cold darkness in Christine's eyes had shot through her like ice. Fear gripped her voice and she turned to rush from the room without another word. The door slammed, but it didn't even startle Christine. She laid in bed, staring at the window as the sun slowly sank into the horizon. Night blanketed her room in darkness, except for the solitary lamp on her bedside table, which cast an eerie glow around it. Christine sighed and turned up the burner until the light spilled across the window. Her breath caught at the sight of her angel, who had appeared seemingly in the blink of an eye.

"Erik." She sat up in bed and reached for him.

He moved closer, shedding his cloak and draping it over one of the chairs before embracing her. Every fear washed away in his arms, and Christine inhaled his sweet scent as though it were a drug. Their lips found each other in a gentle kiss as she removed his mask to trace his scars.

"Erik," she repeated, her voice choked with tears.

"My sweet Christine. I'm here," he whispered in her ear.

"Please don't leave me again." She gripped his hands and tried not to shake. "It's getting worse... Now they want to drug me!"

His face contorted with anger. "Morphine?"

Christine nodded and trailed her hand along his forearms, which bore old injection scars. "I saw what that horrible poison did to you. I won't let them do that to me," she cried. "Please don't let them."

Erik hugged her tight against his chest and shook his head. "I promise."

"When will this Hell end?" she cried against his chest.

"When you want it to."

"What?" Christine looked up at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"You know," he hummed while wiping away her tears.

"Erik... I've told you before. I can't just run away. It won't matter where I go; Raoul will always find me. And if he does," she trailed off with a shiver. "No. I have to convince him to let me leave. No matter what it takes."

He started to argue, but only pulled her into a soft kiss instead. "Keep my offer in mind. Just in case."

Christine slid her hand along the perfectly crisp white shirt over his chest. "I will." After a beat of silence, she whispered, "Please stay with me tonight. I need to be near you."

Erik shuddered at her touch and pulled her even closer. "I'm all yours, my angel."