At the Opera House

Chapter 21: Father

He hadn't changed, not one bit.

Or, perhaps, he had. There were no silver flakes in his hair, no aged wrinkles complimenting his eyes, his smile was fresh and empty of pain.

"Chris!" He cried. "You've grown, look at you. I never would have guessed."

Christine gave him a pained smile while grasping Erik desperately, partly to keep her standing and partly to keep him from doing anything foolish. An arm was wrapped protectively around her waist, keeping her up and giving her a solid place to hang when the carpet was once again swept from underneath her.

Anxiously she looked to him, he was staring at Raoul's unconscious form supported by Nadir behind father.

Father.

"Pappsen." She murmured in Swedish. "This is not the time."

His face darkened. "Chris, what is going on?I admit, this business is taking me by surprise."

"Erik and I.... This is my fiancé." Christine announced brazenly, behind father, she saw Nadir's eyes widen. "His name is Erik, we were preforming together."

Her father jumped foreword. "Excellent, I heard your singing." He held out a hand. "You two will be perfect together, you should have seen her as a kid, learned to sing before she talked, she did." Erik stared at the hand blankly until it was retracted.

"Pappsen, what happened to Raoul?"

He glanced behind him. "Ah, well he hit his head sliding down from that tunnel, knocked him out cold."

Christine remembered the first, loudest thump from the room and had to smile at the image. "I see. Best deposit him on the couch, I daresay he needs it more than I."

Erik's grip on her tightened, another glanced showed his grinding teeth. She rubbed his back, his tense muscles. He had to be calm, he couldn't explode now. "Erik, darling, will you please help me to that chair?"

He nodded, surprising her by sweeping her up in his arms, cradling her in his chest. He hurried past the struggling Nadir and carefully placed her blanket wrapped figure in the chair as he would a glass figurine. Her blankets were adjusted, and a cool hand gently checked the bandage at her forehead.

He turned nervously to the rest of the room, tense, fingers twitching, ready to fight off the invasion in his home. Gently she reached out and gently guided his head back to her. She reached foreword and kissed his chin, feeling him shudder as she did so.

"Not for long darling, I promise." Christine whispered against his skin. "They'll be out soon."

He nodded, taking one of her hands and pressing it to his lips.

"Look at that!" Her father said with pride. "I knew she would choose a gentlemen, she wouldn't settle for anything less-"

"Papa this is not the time." Christine said, leaning away from Erik, clutching her blanket. "There are some serious matters to be discussed and I will not have your inability to take things seriously affect them."

He fell silent, and a trace of the weariness she was used to seemed to come back.

"How did you get here?" Christine asked coldly, gripping Erik's equally cool hand. "In this time, I mean? I do hope you know what I'm talking about."

Gently Gustav Daae's rough hands tugged at a golden chain around his neck and pulled it out.

Christine nodded in satisfaction. "I thought so."