Night and Morning

Sometimes Christine whimpers in her sleep. As she stirs, her husband wakes. He keeps still as he watches her, looking for signs of overwhelming distress. Her brows furrow as her delicate fearful tone crescendos into forceful cries. "Christine, Christine, darling, it's okay." He soothes and pleads at the same time. As her cries soften and her eyes begin to open, Raoul brushes his fingers across her pale hand. He leans up against his eyebrow. "It's just a dream." He says, as if to comfort himself. "You're safe here. We are here, together."

Tears fall into her ears as Christine stares up at the ceiling. Her hand grips her husband's. Voice trembling, she says, "It's been seven years. Seven years and I still wake up in terror. Seven years and I still see his face in every shadow. Why won't it stop?" She says her last question louder as she turns to her side and rests her head in Raoul's arms.

Raoul touches his lips to her dark curls, and for a moment, he is silent. I don't know. He wants to say but he cannot. I don't know, but I want to. Oh, Christine, if only I had the answer. If only I could take your pain away. If only I could still your fears, then maybe your tears would dry. Then maybe you could perform again. His eyes threaten tears as his past promises to her echo. I am sorry I could not protect you, Christine. He stiffens his body to stop it from trembling. "You've been through a lot." He says, stroking her hair. "It takes time."

Pulling back, Christine looks up at her husband. "You are too kind to, too kind and too patient." She kisses his nose and settles back into his arms. "Sometimes I get angry at myself." Raoul feels his wife stiffen as her tone becomes harsher. "I get so afraid, and then I become angry at myself for being afraid. I've tried everything I can think of. I have let go of the death of my father. I have stopped mourning for something I cannot change and have stayed away from his grave. I have kept silent about the Phantom. I try to keep that as far from my mind. I refuse to let him define me, and yet." She pauses to let her hands find her husband's. "I am frightened, Raoul. In every theater that I go to perform at, I am afraid that he will be there. I know I should be performing more, but my fear keeps me away."

Raoul sighs and brings her into a deeper embrace. Please mourn, Christine. He wants to beg. Running from the memory of your father and the Phantom will keep that fear, that darkness chasing after you. Shine light on it, and eventually the darkness will become only small shadows. The words call to him to be spoken, as his heart starts to rush. He swallows. The truth is, I am afraid also. I am afraid that I cannot lead through this when I am still healing. "How did your lesson with Monsieur Deschamps go yesterday?" He asks.

Heart stilled by her husband's warmth, Christine closes her eyes. "Having it in the parlor at our home helped. I feel safer here." She gives a small laugh. "Also being able to fully see him the daylight also calms me a bit."

Raoul forces a smirk as he strokes her hair. Her allusion to a past teacher stalls his heart rather than giving him the warmth of humor. "Gustav enjoyed hearing his mother's singing again. I was told by the governess that he kept creeping to the door to listen."

Shifting her position, Christine stretches with a contended sigh. "He is a curious child. I really do delight in him."

"And he delights in you and has a much affection toward you as a small child could." Counters Raoul. "Delights in you and is delighted to her your voice." He smiles. "As do I on both accounts."

Christine opens her eyes and sees her husband's face illuminated by a sliver silver of moonlight. "You're too good to me." She says, her eyes narrowing in affection.

In response, Raoul bows his head to kiss her hand. I wish I could do more. He looks into Christine's eyes. "You should go to sleep. I promised to take Gustav to the park this morning, and I think that it would be a lovely surprise if you were able to come too."

A faint smile traces Christine's lips. "Mhm, I would love that. I will try." Her voice begins to fade as her breathing deepens into sleep.

As the morning light comes into the room, Raoul feels a cool rush as he splashes water onto his face. He sighs as water drops snake down his pale skin. His breathing becomes more forced as he clutches the table. A tightness grips at his neck. A harsh voice from the past pounds through his head. "Order your fine horse now." It taunts. "Raise up your hand to the level of your eye." Raoul feels a harsh breath against his skin as an invisible rope constricts his neck further. "Nothing can save you now..." Biting his lip, Raoul prevents himself from screaming out. He grips the table harder, refusing to disturb Christine. He cannot let her see his struggles as she battles the same episodes, the same phantoms from the past. I need to protect her. He tries to place this thought above the memories of the Phantom's taunts and screams.

A peace returns when Raoul catches the sound of small running feet down the hallway. He gasps for air as his breath is back and with a practiced quick motion, rubs his tears away. Gustav is awake, and if Raoul does not keep his promise about the morning stroll, the five year old will come bounding into his parents' bedroom.

As Raoul straightens his posture, he looks down on his wife's sleeping form. Should he wake her? Raoul tilts his head in indecision. A contended smile carves a dimple on her cheek as her chest rises and falls in a slow, peaceful rhythm. A frustration pulls at Raoul's shoulders. The last half of the night had been one of her more peaceful sleeps. After her screams, she had slumbered. No whimpering, no screams, no thrashing, just peaceful sighs, happy mumbling and a contended snore. Raoul rubs around his neck, he does not know the next time when Christine will have a chance at a peaceful morning. As he slowly clicks the door close, he smiles at her chance of peace. Gustav can add to her bliss when they return from their father-son walk.