His Wandering Child (Rewritten)

Chapter 5 - Wishing She Was Somehow Here Again

"Too many years fighting back tears,
Why can't the past just die?"

-Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again, The Phantom of the Opera, Andrew Lloyd Webber

*****
Edited

Erik awoke to the loud cry, panic racing through his veins and all his thoughts turning to his days in the Opera Populaire.

Then Erik relaxed. He was home. A second scream alerted him to Christine. Now he was overcome by a deep sense of worry. What had happened that caused her to cry out in such a way? He rose from his bed, thankful to realize he wore a shirt and trousers. Then he hurried out of his bedroom, across the hall to where Christine's room was located.

Erik could hear her ragged breathing on the other side of the door where he stood. Hesitantly, he turned the knob and entered to find a tiny figure hiding under the covers of the bed. Weak sobs came from Christine as she lay curled up in a ball.

Erik walked over to the bedside and began to pull away the bedsheets. The crying subsided and soon he was looking at a puffy eyed, wild haired Christine. She looked at him momentarily before crawling over and embracing him.

"What happened?" he asked sympathetically, putting one hand on her shoulder and the other on the small of her back.

Christine tried her best to swallow a cry. "I... I was dreaming ab-b-bout Mother... w-when s-s-she died..."

Erik nodded slowly, a tear streaking down his face as well. "I understand."

The girl stared up at him. "You do?"

He nodded again, and gently pulled her closer to him. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I once loved your mother very, very much."

She blinked away more tears. "Were you going to be married?"

Erik shook his head. "She didn't exactly love me back."

The girl thought for a moment, staring down at her hands, until she very softly said, "I w-would've liked you to be my father."

A soft gasp escaped from Erik's lips. Certainly the girl didn't mean it. She was suffering. Often people said things that they never intended to say when they were in pain. Erik knew that he did.

Christine's crying started up again, but it was softer. She whimpered into his chest, but Erik simply allowed her to release her tears and let them soak into his own bleeding heart.

*****
Two Years Ago

"Mother?" little Christine asked.

"We must hurry, Christine." her mother was saying. "Quickly, pack a bag before your father returns."

"Why?"

She turned and looked at the child. "Do you trust me, Christine?" the girl nodded. "We're going to see someone, my dear. And that someone is going to take us away from here."

Christine's eyes widened. "We're leaving Father?"

Her mother sighed. "Yes, Christine."

"But won't he be angry? What if he tries to find us?"

"He won't, I promise you."

Christine was just about to argue when the sound of the front door opening forced her mother to run her out of the room and towards the kitchen.

"Quickly, go out the kitchen door. Run to the old Opera building." she whispered to her daughter. "There will be a man there, a man with half a mask on his face. Go to him and tell him you are Christine's child."