Twisted Every Way(Phantom Of The Opera Fic)

Chapter 4: I See

((Hey everyone!! Thank you so so much for every read I appreciate it! This story had a bit of a slow start but stick with it, beware... it picks up XD.))

"How are you?" Erik asked slowly, worry lacing his voice.

Christine played with her food. 

"Erik," She sighed after a moments hesitation. "I can't escape the nagging feeling that I was never meant to make it off that dock."

He looked at her carefully, she had grown older in the last ten years, but so much more beautiful. Her chestnut curls were peppered with grey that sparkled like a fine gold in the sunlight. 

"We have been given more time." Erik stated, "Let us not question it."

The two sat in hollowed silence, their pasts colliding with future. 

"You seem so different." Christine laughed, her eyes full of affection. 

Erik stayed silent, his mind fixed on the past.

She placed her hand on his. "Do you believe in our youth. That one can love the thought of someone, not themselves." 

Erik thought that over, his tone slightly bitter "I suppose.. Is that why you chose him?"

Christine smiled softly, "Raoul offered me security, fondness, it was tempting. But Erik, truthfully, I fell in love with neither of you."

She nodded at his trivial look and continued. "Raoul was the idea of security, of protection. But it was your music I loved Erik. Loved it with a passion so fierce and wonderful I hadn't the power to understand it."

"What are you trying to say?" Erik asked.

Christine's brow furrowed and she held his hand tighter. "Erik, when the music is gone, when the youth has faded, I've come to want you."

He looked into her eyes, for once seeing no trace of hesitation, just genuine concern.

"I want to see only you. I want to know you. Only then I will understand your music. Your soul and mine they're-."

Erik glanced away, his eyes full of pain, "You couldn't possibly." 

Holding his hand tightly and bringing it to her cheek she smiled faintly, "Erik." 

How he loved how she said his name. 

"Erik, I want you. Only you."  

Erik gave a laugh, and with trembling hand taking her own spoke the words he so feared rejection of. 

Coming to her side, head bowed in humble wonder of the beautiful woman he loved, he spoke; "Then marry me."

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Erik woke up two days later with a groan to find Gustave curled up next to him.

Him and Christine had been married under darkness, the boat captain unaware of the momentous occasion in which he was partaking.He thought he had caught a glimpse of shining porcelain drawn across the man's face.

But 200 Francs told him otherwise.  

They had moved Gustave to the room next door, and many a long hour was spent in pleasant silence.

In the life of Erik there is very little happy and in the Life of Christine very little privacy.

So in the silence of deep dark waters, we will grant them this peace, these few moments, before storms dark and treacherous come in their wake. 

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His Christine lay in the other bed, hair knotted and tangled but beautiful none the less.

For a moment he felt secure, for a moment he felt safe and happy. Then it all came rushing back, a tidal wave of stress, anger, and sorrow that knocked him flat onto his pillow again.

Returning to Paris brought its own complications. There was the police, of course, but even more so, there was Raoul.

"I'd have to torture him, taunt him, drive him insane, just like I had with a few of my other victims. Then I'd hang him, watch the life drain out of him as he struggled to breathe. Or maybe he'd just give up, although that wouldn't be much fun." Erik thought to himself.

Still, he had a feeling that Raoul would fight, even though it wouldn't do him much good.

"Mother?" a sleepy-eyed Gustave asked, not yet remembering where he was. The peaceful, ignorant bliss on his face only lasted a second.

Erik frowned, Gustave wouldn't disturb his mothers rest unless of dire circumstance. Something haunted his nightmare, something too terrible to name. 

"Erik," Gustave exclaimed as his eyes met his fathers. He looked to his covers and around the room, his surroundings being put in place in his mind. "I'm sorry! I-I must've come in here last night! I don't remember-"

"You had another nightmare. You came in and, well, here you are," Erik said gently.

All Gustave wanted was to just lay there forever and cower under the sheets. Protected, safe. But Meg haunted his nightmares along with music too powerful to explain. Yet embarrassment is a powerful emotion to a young boy and Gustave often felt it keenly. 

  Gustave ignoring Erik's permission quickly jumped out of bed and apologized.

He didn't want to make him uncomfortable, then he might not want him anymore he reasoned. 

Erik sighed and slowly climbed out of bed as well. He went to rub his eyes awake and stopped suddenly as his left hand touched twisted flesh.

A hand flew to his face in a swift shock when he realized he wasn't wearing his mask.

Gustave still cowered at the sight but he held back his fear.

The two locked eyes.

Gustave no longer wished to run. He wanted to stare, facing that horror till no shiver was sent up his spine until all was seen past.

Christine stirred and turned and looked in happy puzzlement. Her two angels side by side, both frowning at each other intensely, trying to read each other's thoughts in the dim lighting as the boat swayed.

"Good morning." Christine sighed contently. Painfully, she sat up, pulling Erik beside her and holding him tightly.

"I really wish you would take it off more often," she whispered. "Fear is something we all feel Erik. But its just a feeling, its what we do after that matters."

She removed his hand and leaned in to kiss him but Gustave stared nervously.

Christine smiled softly, her son wanted to talk. And Gustave would always come ahead of any love or passion. He was her inspiration, as Christine was Erik's.

Nevertheless, despite Christine's assurance, Erik fumbled frantically for his mask, then hurried out the door, mumbling something about getting dressed and finding breakfast.

"Won't people wonder?" Gustave laughed, "That he slips in and out of the shadows. That they all know his name but none know his identity?"

"The music, the mystery, it frightens them."

"I'm not afraid anymore mother," Gustave said slowly, his eyes downcast.

She lifted his jaw with her finger and searched his troubled eyes. In them, she found new hope, new determination.

"That haunted face holds no horror for me now."