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An Old Fashioned Dream	By : LillyFair Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 3171 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
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- 7
Sorry it took so long to update, a lot has been going on.

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Christine stirred in her sleep, she felt warm and safe. The bed did not feel like her bed in the mansion, but yet it felt familiar. Even the nightgown she wore felt like one she had owned a long time ago before she was married. Suddenly all the events from the past two days flooded her memory. She remembered Raoul accidentally throwing her into the mirror, and then waking up in Erik’s arms.

She blushed at her lack of control that night. She couldn’t believe that she had actually undressed him and asked him to stay with her for the night. She could still fell his naked body next to hers, as they feel asleep.

Where had he gone anyway? When she fell asleep she was lying in his arms, now she was covered in her nightgown but Erik was nowhere to be seen. She wanted to see him, to talk to him about what had occurred last night. To tell him about Raoul; no she couldn’t tell him about Raoul for if she did he would surely kill him. It wasn’t Raoul’s fault. Thinking about Raoul made her mind begin to sink into a deep depression. It was her fault that he was in this situation it was entirely her fault.

She sat up to move but realized that she was still very much incapacitated. Her head was still spinning wildly and she could barely lift her arms because they had become so stiff. She let out a frustrated moan, just as Erik entered the room. This time fully dressed, including a mask.

“Ah my dear, I was beginning to get worried about you. You have been asleep for nearly three days.” Erik was carrying a tray of food adorned with a single red rose tied with his black ribbon trademark. He had defiantly been pleased by her previous passionate display, but he was not even sure if she remembered any of it.

She actually looked around for the first time and noticed that she was not in her room at the Opera House. It was her bed, and her nightgown, and Erik, but it defiantly was not the same room. This room had a beautiful blue carpet that looked extremely soft, a magnificent mantel on the far wall in which a blazing fire was burning, and in the corner there were huge French doors which led out to a snow covered balcony.

“Ah, I see that you are captivated by the falling snow.” Erik replied as he put her tray down on the nightstand.

“Apparently Paris is in for a record snowfall. Roads are already closed, and I received an advisory from French Police to stay indoors for safety purposes. I am afraid that you will be forced to suffer with my company for a few days longer, at least until they clear the roads, and you are feeling better.

He simply looked at her bandaged body and fought down his anger. Now was still not the time, she must gain her strength.
They simply looked at each other for a moment before Erik started to feed her the soup he had made. She at first had tried to feed herself but she couldn’t manage to hold the spoon very well, so she was resigned to letting Erik feed her, which she found she quite enjoyed.

When she had neared the end of the bowl, he noticed her trying to again hide her pain. She had always been strong willed even when he had been teaching her as the Angel of Music. Her eyes were a dead giveaway every time. Whoever said that the eyes were the windows to the soul was correct because he could see everything in her eyes; pain, love, fear, passion, and hatred it was all there open for anyone with insight to see.

He gracefully pushed back a hair from her face causing the pads of his fingers to just barely graze her skin. Despite his anger he wanted to hold her again while she slept; he wanted to always keep her safe. When he awoke two days ago with her naked body next to his, he thought he had finally died and entered heaven; it was to his surprise that he was very much alive, and she really was in his arms. He did feel slightly guilty that he had succumbed to her delirious request, she was after all a married woman, but it was only slight guilt for the pain of her betrayal was still fresh in his heart.

“Christine. I will give you only a little more opium. I know the pain must be intolerable but you can become heavily dependent upon it.” He knew that from personal experience. He had been addicted to first morphine, and now opium for years; so much so that it hardly even affected his system anymore.

“Please…Erik.” He gave her a drink mixed with the narcotic and watched her eyes grow sleepy. She thanked him, and stared into his eyes as she fell back asleep.

“Sleep angel, for when you are better, there is much to talk about.”

He then took water that was boiling on the mantel and cleaned her wounds and changed her bandages. They were healing nicely, a few more days and she wouldn’t need any more bandages at all.

The next few days went about the same until one day he walked into her room and found her bandagages removed,and she was dressed in her clothes from the trunk. She was just sitting on a stool staring out of the window looking at the falling snow. He had seen her downward spiral of spirits since her arrival. She became extremely distant, she never asked to leave, but then again she never said she wished to stay either.

He paused when he entered the room to simply look at her; he had missed looking at her. He used to enter into her room at night just so he could watch her sleep. She never knew that a monster sometimes kept vigil at her bedside.

She looked the picture of loveliness sitting in her low cut scarlet silk gown, that gown was always one of his favorites for he picked it out himself; it went well with the curve of her neck, her blonde hair, and blue eyes.

She looked lost in her thoughts though almost sad, maybe lonely. She really had not said anything to him this entire week other than thank you, and please, or if you don’t mind. She was defiantly depressed of that he was sure, but he didn’t know the cause. Maybe she actually remembered her actions of her first night there and regretted them, or maybe she wanted to go home to Raoul, but didn’t have the courage to ask him. He had to know what caused her such distress.

“The storm gave us six feet last week, and they say that we are supposed to possibly get six more.”

The sound of his soft creamy voice snapped her out of her thoughts as she rose from her seat and took a few graceful steps toward him. She had to know many things; she had sat too long in solitude and silence pondering her past, her present situation, and her future. She had to know a great many things.

“Erik! Where am I?” she asked, she couldn't wait for his everyday pleasantries. “Everything looks the same, this was my bed, and my furniture, but this is not the Louis-Philippe room, and we are not underneath the Opera House.” Erik chuckled low in his throat as he put her tray down on her nightstand; the time had come for a full confrontation. His anger returned afresh, his heart needed to heal and she finally needed to know.

“No my dear, you are right,” he said calmly “we are not underneath the Opera house, and as much as it gives me pleasure to hear you think of these items as yours, they are in fact mine, you abandoned everything that night when you left with that boy.” He heard her short intake of breath as he crossed in front of her to look out the window. She would get no reprieve, not today, he had waited too long for this moment to be worried about her feelings.

“This my dear,” he said gesturing to the outside and around the room “was meant to be our house. I purchased it weeks before you and that damned boy even planned to run away together. I thought… well I didn’t really know what I thought, but I knew that you needed light and warmth, and the promise of a home, a future, not a cold damp prison, so…I bought it for you…for us.”

He was angry, his fists were clenched tight and he was on the verge of shouting. I trusted you, I loved you, and you betrayed me, but they had already fought that fight down in his lair.

“Oh Erik.” She said sadly. “I had no idea.” He scowled at her and moved away from the window to face her.

“Of course you didn’t, you could never see past what was directly in front of you. You were never able to see how much I wanted you, how much I needed you, or how much I loved you.”

He couldn’t hold back his rage any longer. “I was the heinous killer who murdered for pleasure, the infamous opera ghost who tortured the managers, and tormented the ballet rats, not because I had a right to live, but because of sick pleasure! It was all too easy for you to run away with your Prince Charming to the bright white castle, rather than see me for the man I am.”

He turned to look again outside; he knew his cruelty would probably cause her to weep and he would feel guilty about it. They had been engaged in this never-ending game of cat and mouse ever since he first revealed himself to her as a man instead of an angel. He would shout, she would cry, they both would pretend like it never happened, and then the cycle would continue.

Erik’s words did strike her to the soul this time, but it did not make her weep, no this time it made her angry.

“Easy!” she screamed at him. “Erik, do you think leaving you was easy. Oh yes I particularly enjoyed turning my back on the only life I have ever known; being forced to abandon music, and dance and enter into a life I was unprepared for.”

Erik turned to look at her; it was like he was seeing her for the first time she had defiantly changed, grown up really. That boy must have killed her innocence and forced her to grow up, he knew it was inevitable. He rather liked this side of her a lot; it displayed her passion for living and making her own choices rather than the child that always did what she was told.

“Oh yes Erik, you knew it all didn’t you. You knew that I would never fit in his society. You knew that I would never be able to perform in public again. You knew I had given up my life for a fantasy dreamed up as a young girl.”

Erik simply stood there shocked, he had known, but she had not believed him. He should feel glad and satisfied, but he actually felt sorry for her, he had wanted her to be happy, that’s all he had ever wanted for her, which is why he had let her go in the first place.

Christine was finally able to pour out her heart to someone who would listen to her words, to someone who would not hurt her, but as she spoke she realized that more of her repressed feelings were beginning to show, it was as if her heart were finally given a chance to speak on its own.

"Yes, you knew, but what you don’t know is that my heart still lies with you in the house by the lake. I knew as soon as I kissed you the second time that I had made a mistake. I wanted you to take me away right then. I wanted to be in the comfort of your arms, but alas I was too week, too sheltered to realize what I was feeling. I was caught up in what I was supposed to be feeling. I was supposed to love Raoul; he was supposed to be my knight in shining armor, the one who saved me from danger but he wasn't the one who saved me."

"I was never taught about someone like you, no one ever spoke about a person who could touch your heart like no other; someone who could understand you, and be with you as a friend, as a lover, as a confidant. I was not prepared for how you touched my life at first as an angel, and then as a man. I had abandon that and leave you because of my own stupid preconceived notions.”

Erik grabbed her shoulders rough enough to get his point across, but gently enough not to hurt her. Her confession merely aggravated his tortured heart.

“You could have left anytime you wanted. You chose him, you chose to stay.”

“We were already married and I had nowhere else to go, Mama Valérius had already passed away, I was left alone to a fate of my making. I had no one else to turn to, besides I couldn’t leave Raoul, his mind had already become violent.” Erik released her and walked to the center of the room, he couldn’t comprehend what he was hearing, and suddenly he knew what had happened to her. That silly boy that had foolishly risked his life to save her, was the one who was hurting her.

“Christine…How could you.”

“How could I stay?” she asked sarcastically. “Do you think that you are the only one who suffered from that night? No my dear Erik, the three of us will forever be trapped in a bizarre triangle in the depths of that opera house. Raoul is no different than the rest of us; only the torment began to deteriorate his mind.

“I stayed because I do love him, no it is not as a wife should but I love him nonetheless. His mind has been fading for some time until finally last week it snapped completely. He didn’t realize he was hurting me, I know he didn’t. His eyes, his eyes were of a distant expression, he had no knowledge of what he was doing when he shook me and threw me into the mirror. That is the last thing I remember before I woke up in your arms. I don’t know how I got here; I didn’t even know that you were alive.

Erik was angry, furious at her tale. That boy had no right to take out his anger on her. He should have sought him out and challenged him instead of taking out his anger on her.

“That boy is to blame for all of this.” Christine stepped away from him in frustration and anger.

“Ah…Stop!,” she screamed, “I am tired of defending you to him, and he to you. Why can’t you both just learn that both of you are in my heart, let me choose, stop laying blame on each other for what cannot be changed.

“You already made your choice my dear and look at the disaster that occurred.” Erik replied coldly.

Christine couldn’t retain control any longer; her emotional outburst left her drained and his words hit her hard. She knew she had destroyed them both, but hearing the words uttered out loud made her outer shell collapse. Her tears poured like rain as she screamed at him once more.

“Well turn me out in the street, murder me, beat me, treat me like the whore I am, do whatever you want with me. You should never have saved my life in the first place, you should have left me to die like the miserable bitch that I am. You think that I don’t know what I have done.”

Christine stormed up to him and ripped off his mask. His first reaction was to turn away, rather than have her look on at his marred disgusting face again.

“You think your face is repulsive, then my soul must be even more disgusting, for in my indecision I have destroyed two men, and brought nothing but misery to the memory of my dead father.

“So take your mask,” she said throwing it to the floor at his feet, “ hide your true form, for I can hide mine no longer.” They stared at each other for just a moment that seemed like hours, and then Erik left her room slamming the door, leaving her alone in her tears.

There was nothing left for her to do but seek solace in her bed, and weep. Some things about her would just never change but it felt so good to scream, so good to cry, so good to feel again, she felt miserable, but it was much better feeling something than the nothing she had been feeling for weeks.
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An Old Fashioned Dream