Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera, but, it truly does hurt to say the truth in this case, so, yes; yes I do own Phantom. Erik lives in my closet, I put Raoul up for sale on eBay and. . .*sigh* no, I really don't own Phantom. *tear* Author's Note: I've left this up in the air for far to long, but I've let my other phanphic take up most of my time, and I've been busy with school. So, anyway, I've finally decided to pay more attention to this story. I hope you all enjoy this, and don't forget to review. Archiving: Sure, why not? Just give me a head's up first. ~Chapter 3~ "I once was lost. . ." "To fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead." ~Bertrand Russell Sleep came quickly, my weary eyes closing instinctively as I laid down against the voluminous piles of linen-clad pillows. Reality faded, and I readily embraced the rest that came. I dreamed of music, of intricate melodies that unwound like a perfect philosophy; all the questions of life seemed to have an answer in the flawless score. The music lived, it breathed; it confronted me wordlessly and surrounded me with its deep refrain. I dreamed of the theatre, the crimson velvet of the curtains cascading down onto the deep mahogany of the stage. Triumph and tragedy played out upon its glossy surface as I watched, disembodied and free, from above it all. I dreamed of love; of beauty, truth and wonder. I dreamed of powerful emotions that danced in quiet harmony with the music that filled my soul. I dreamed of Erik. . . My eyes fluttered open unwillingly, and I looked up to see the edge of the quilt obscuring my view of the white ceiling. I could hear voices in the room, and I turned wordlessly to face them. "Christine," Claudette said, hurrying over to me and grasping my hand, "you're awake! I've called a doctor, and I took the liberty of informing him of your situation. . ." She looked nervous, as if she feared she had offended me. I squeezed her hand, and smiled a small, tired smile as I said, "Thank you, Madame." "Claudette," she insisted forcefully, with an underlying warmth in her voice. "Claudette," I echoed, smiling. She smiled back at me, and turned towards the Doctor, motioning for him to come. He approached quickly, and setting down his bag on the nightstand, he looked at me with sympathy in his grey eyes. "You must know," he began softly, "that you have consumption." I nodded, and he continued, "you surely cannot remain in Paris, you must travel to the South, to Cannes, perhaps, or maybe Spain, where it the climate is dry, and your. . ." "I cannot leave Paris, nor can I leave. . ." I said, cutting myself off before I gave my identity away. "Nothing is as important as your health, Christine. You must go; whatever it is, you must leave it and attend to your condition." I looked at him, knowing he was right, knowing I should listen and do as I was told, but. . . "I will not leave Paris," I echoed resolutely, I am going to die somewhere, and I would rather it be here, Monsieur. Surely, you understand that," I said, hoping half the truth would suffice. "I do. I'm not going to lie to you, Christine. You're condition is quite serious. If you refuse to leave Paris, I can only prescribe some pills and powders that will ease some of the symptoms." "Thank you for your concern, but the pills and powders shall suffice," I said quietly, and he turned to Claudette. "Will you excuse us for a moment, Madame?" He said cordially, and she nodded, shooting me a hesitant, motherly look as she walked out the door. Weakly, I smiled at that. As the door closed, the Doctor turned to me and said, "You say you have no family?" I nodded, and succinctly said, "No one." "I know of a Vicomte," he said, his concerned expression not changing at all, "that would strongly disagree with that sentiment. You're Christine Daae, of that I'm certain. I've seen you perform, in fact." "Raoul," I said sadly, involuntarily. Surely he had discovered my absence, and the press was certainly covering every aspect of the story. "Indeed," the Doctor said, nodding gently, "but, if you do not want me to reveal your identity, or to inform the Vicomte of where you are, I will not. You certainly have the right to live as you choose, but do know that the papers claim he has been quite inconsolable these few days, and. . ." "Days?" I interrupted, my eyes growing wide with surprise, "How long was I asleep?" "Almost four days, Christine. You were running a high fever, and were quite listless. Several times you called for someone named 'Erik', and try as we might, we could not make you stay still." I absorbed what he had said quietly; it didn't surprise me, my soul longed for Erik with an unremitting need that even sleep could not silence. "You will not tell Raoul?" I asked, needing reassurance. "Yes," he said sadly, "but, Christine, if there is someone who loves you, someone who wants to be with you no matter what the circumstance, you should run to them. You have an uncertain amount of time left, and you should not cut yourself off from life while you are still living. That would be the greatest tragedy of all, Christine; to deny love when you need it the most." I thought about his words, and my own, and I slowly began to speak, "There is a man from Persia, his name is Nadir. I will give you his address if you will go to him and tell him of my situation, implore him to come to me and add that he must do so in the utmost secrecy." The doctor nodded, "Of course," he said with questions in his eyes. Regardless, he must have pushed them aside, as he walked to a desk in the corner of the room and brought me a piece of paper and a pen. I wrote the address quickly and he took it, folding it and placing it in a coat pocket. Softly, he added, "I shall do as you wish. Can I do anything else for you?" "Only keep silent about me," I said, closing my eyes for a long moment, "Thank you, Doctor." "It is nothing, I shall go to this Nadir immediately," he said warmly, standing up. "Rest as much as you can, and allow Claudette to take care of you. God knows she's quite willing to." I smiled, and shook my head, "I will, Doctor." To be continued. . .(and soon!. . .I think) :) |
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