A/N: Hehe ok I'm done with being mean. For now. *smirk* As always, I do not own POTO or any of its characters!

In the distance, Erik thought he saw the other two men pass under a streetlight before vanishing around the street corner. "Cerise?" He stepped into the alleyway, and as if in response, he could hear soft, breathless weeping. He followed the sound, and as she came into view, his already shattered heart sank. She'd been stripped to the waist, humiliated before being beaten and finally shot in the chest. He could tell from the broken crates around her that she had put up quite a fight, but it hadn't been enough. He collapsed beside her, wrapping his shirt around her before cradling her head in his arms.

"You…came back…"

"I told you I would. I want to take you out of here…to safety…"

"No…I won't make it. I'm…sorry your journey was for nothing."

"It wasn't for nothing, Cerise. I won't let you leave here alone." Erik swallowed the lump in his throat, and began stroking her hair.

"I…told them…you went south…that you had taken…a boat…in the river…they…they tried to bring me back with them…but…I wouldn't go…I…I couldn't…"

"You did well, Cerise. You did well."

"Please…tell me your name…I want…to remember it…remember you…"

"Erik." His voice was barely above a whisper now.

"Erik…take care of Alyce…love her…that's all she…ever wanted…was to…to be loved…" A gasp followed her statement, and as her eyes closed, he knew they were never going to open again. The fire was gone forever. Her head grew limp in his arms, but he clutched her closer to himself, brushing his lips against hers.

"I promise, Cerise. I'll take care of her." He wanted to sob openly then…to let down all defenses and let the world know how much this girl had meant to him, if only for an hour or so. But once the promise was made, he knew he had to return. Finding a tattered sheer underneath some crates, he took back his now bloody shirt and covered her from head to toe. The police would eventually find her and take all the steps necessary for burial, something he knew nothing about. He would remember her name for as long as he lived, and perhaps he would find her grave and give her a proper good bye. For now, however, he was needed elsewhere.

Upon his return, he was able to walk right in through the front door and up the stairs. It must be a very long meeting… Antoinette was waiting for him in Alyce's room, the glare still on her face. Despite her frustration with Erik's surprise visit, Alyce's dress had been replaced with a borrowed nightgown, and Antoinette was rubbing a cold damp cloth across her forehead. "I've sent for a doctor. I cannot hide you here, but in case you do wish to make yourself scarce, I suggest you tell me everything."

"I will stay. I cannot bear to share the details more than once." He lowered himself to a chair on the opposite side of the bed, gently taking the cloth from his friend's hand and continuing to stroke Alyce's forehead. The dirt had been cleaned off, and now the red slashes were all the more prominent. He'd know those familiar markings anywhere, and as he merely thought back to his childhood, his back stung from the memory of all those whippings. "How bad is it? Her stomach? The baby?" At his questions, she teared up slightly.

"Nothing but black and blue, Erik. I cannot say that there is much hope for the baby."

"Show me."

"Erik! It would be indecent!"

"Show me. I have to see." As he looked at her, he made sure that she could see the familiar honesty in his eyes. "You can trust me." With a heavy sigh, she made him turn around. Moments later, she gave the word, and as he looked, he saw that Antoinette had lifted the nightgown to the top of her stomach, the blanket still covering her from the waist down. His eyes widened; never before had he seen a larger bruise—it was indeed covering her entire stomach, and he could only wonder just how many times those men had kicked her. He turned away, and Antoinette quickly covered it up. Taking his hand in hers, she spoke softly…gently.

"You do not have to stay. Please…tell me what happened."

"No. I will not leave her. I promised."

"When the doctor comes to examine her, you will have to step out of the room. You may go to my room across the hall to avoid being seen by the men until you are ready."

"Very well."

The doctor arrived within the hour, and after Erik relayed what he knew, he was waved outside. As he entered Antoinette's room, he realized something…someone was missing. Surely at this hour, Christine and Meg would have turned in. There were only five rooms upstairs—two belonging to the managers, one being Raoul's. This one was Antoinette's…and then there was the spare. Where were Meg and Christine to sleep? Raoul could not have wed Christine already…

He stepped back out into the hallway, making sure of the number of rooms. "She's not here, Erik." He whirled around to face Antoinette standing behind him. "My daughter went with her to the DeChagney estate. I would have joined them as well, but as the ballet mistress, I was needed here in case they had a question about the ballet."

"She's…away from him?" The old Opera Ghost part of him began to plot, but Antoinette shattered any and all hope as soon as she saw the look in his eyes.

"They are there to plan the wedding, Erik. You must forget about her. She is moving on."

"She…could plan it here…" Antoinette lowered her gaze then.

"She couldn't bear to be anywhere near the Opera House, Erik. The first few days, she spoke to no one, not even him. I suggested she leave the city for a while."

"You…?" His voice threatened to shake the building, but he didn't care if the men heard him or not. The tension was broken by Alyce's door being opened, and the doctor motioned them both inside.

Erik blocked out the doctor's voice as he went over what he already knew. Bruises, a whip being the cause for the slashes and the scars being permanent… "The girl is seven months into her pregnancy," he went on, and Erik focused back on his words. "If she is to survive, I will need to deliver the baby within the next twenty-four hours."

"Will the baby survive?" Erik's demanding tone was met with grim faces, and he looked away, the cloth returning to his hand once more.

"Can you do it here?" Antoinette questioned.

"No…my office is across the city. We can take my carriage." As the doctor was explaining the arrangements, the door burst open to reveal Andre, Firmin, and Raoul, their faces red with anger, their eyes full of confusion. As soon as their eyes fell upon Erik, their eyes began to match their faces. Raoul spoke first. "You dare to come here? You really must hate your life to risk it so foolishly!"

"Monsieur!" Antoinette spoke up, her tone careful, yet sharp.

"Antoinette, I can speak for myself." He never turned his glare away from the young Vicomte, and as he stood, the managers at least took a step back. "I did not come here for Christine or anyone else except for the girl you see lying before you. If you wish to fight me again, you will wait until I see that she will survive. Until then, you may stay and help, or you can leave my sight." At his words, Monsieur Andre was the first to flee, Firmin close behind him. Raoul remained.

"We will fight. And I will win. Christine is not here to save you as she was in the graveyard. I look forward to shedding every drop of your blood so that you never haunt her dreams again." Before Antoinette could scold his insolence again, he was gone.

"I'm sorry, Erik…" she spoke with a sigh.

"You need not apologize for his words, Antoinette. By the time Alyce is better, we will be long gone. Not as a coward, mind you, but she will need me by her side. If Raoul claims to love Christine as he says he does, he will learn that she needs him with her more than she needs my death." He returned to his post at her side then, the conversation ended.

A/N: For the record, I hate depicting Raoul like this…so extremely coldhearted…then again, when you look at things from his perspective, he has a valid enough reason…going back to the swordfight in the graveyard up through now. You may have your opinions about Raoul, and that's fine. But I like how Patrick Wilson explained his character in one interview. I'm paraphrasing: "Back then, you died young, so when you saw what you wanted, you went after it(with that intensity)." His possessive way of caring about Christine is definitely not the norm today…in fact it's very much looked down upon, for good reason. But we must remember the time period and the culture then. Yes, Raoul has his faults, but so does Erik. The only other thing I'll say on the matter is this: Anyone who hates/bashes Raoul for his actions, to me, is no better than those back in Erik's day who hated/bashed him for his faults and actions. You may disagree with me, and that's fine. I'm not trying to offend or judge anyone. I'm just taking the time to share my own personal opinion, but I do apologize in advance if this comes across as offensive or judgmental. Please, tell me if it does, and I'll move it to my profile.

*ahem* Soap-box gone, feedback is more than welcome! Stay tuned…next chapter to come soon!