Madame Giry crept silently through the slimy tunnels, across the damp floors and brushing past the age-old cobwebs. She had to find Christine, her beautiful adopted daughter. It only made sense that she would be here, with Erik. She had nowhere else to go, for God's sake! Did he think she was too stupid to realise that?

She stumbled on a small crack in the slippery stone beneath her feet, making her gasp. Still she plodded on, wondering what she would find in the deep dark caverns she had bestowed upon the Phantom.

She sighed. She still thought of Erik as the little ragged boy who had escaped from hell itself. That poor, disfigured boy, who found his way into her life. Another weary sigh escaped her wrinkled lips. Was it all her fault? Was she partly responsible for Buquet, Raoul, and perhaps Christine? She shook her head, surging on until she saw the familiar throbbing glow from the candles.

She shrank back into the shadows, preferring to observe until forced to interfere. She peeked out through her fading eyes, and saw her curly haired daughter, sat alone at a long table, loaded with food. She saw her eyes flicker about her cautiously, before she set the fork in her mouth.

She ate delicately, as she always did, but this time, she was so polite, as if her life depended on it. Madame Giry felt her old heart snap in her ribcage as she saw that little girl, encaged by the little boy she had saved. She would have called it ironic if her soul hadn't dwindled to nothing in those few seconds of torture.

She wrenched her eyes from the banquet for one, and searched the darkness for Erik. Scanning the floor, he was nowhere to be seen. She looked up to the stalactites scattered across the ceiling, and in confirmation to her thoughts, she spotted a billowing cloak hanging from a makeshift balcony carved roughly into the rock.

She stifled a scream of disgust. How he could stand up there and spy on this innocent woman, how he could torture her and keep her all alone? Madame Giry retched in anger and sadness. She looked away, tears in her eyes, and crouched down with her head in her hands.

She stayed there, trembling for some time, before regaining composure and standing up. She looked back to the table, which this time was empty. Her heart missed a beat, as she looked around the cave in vain for Christine. She looked up to the balcony to find Erik's expressionless face staring back at her. They stared like that for some time, locked together by the gaze they had on each other.

Madame Giry was the first to break it as she picked up her black skirts and ran back the way she had come. She fled down the rotting tunnels, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She let out a small scream as a cold hand scratched at a wrist.

Erik's free hand grappled at her mouth and pulled her into a shadowed alcove he had come from. She wrenched free of him and drew her skirts from him in disgust. "Until this day I had never seen you as the monster everyone else describes you as." She hissed at him through her teeth, as he sat with his head in his hands.

"Oh God, Madame, I know that I am a monster," he wailed, shaking with sadness, "But it is a sad day that I hear it from your lips." He stood and paced the small space, as Madame Giry watched.

"Erik, you need to right this and leave. Please! If you want to save yourself and Christine, this must end!"

"No!" He screamed, grabbing at his hair and shaking his head vigorously. "I can't let her go! Don't you see? I love her, I need her, oh so much!" He kicked at the walls, crumbling the rough stone that made contact with his boots.

He calmed slightly, and shook in time with his sorrow. "Anyway, it's too late now. I just can't give her up now. Do you see those ignorant little idiots crawling around up there? They cannot possibly see how much talent this girl has!" He collapsed against the wall.

Madame Giry folded down beside him. "Erik," she began, sighing as her bones creaked and shook. "Do you really think she has a future down here? All she has is a life of loneliness and uncertainty. To make her truly happy you must let her go." Erik looked down at his tensed fists. He breathed out, and turned his body to face Madame Giry.

"Alright," he decided, tears falling from his black eyes. "But please, give me time, a few more days with her. You know, to build up my courage." Madame Giry nodded quietly, and began to stand, before Erik caught her hand slightly.

"You're not…going to tell anyone about this, are you?" He asked, looking for complete honesty in her eyes. Madame Giry's eyes looked to the floor, fleetingly, before nodding and turning away. He caught her hand again, a little too strong the second time round.

"Else," he began, malice glinting in his eye to make up for the selfless act he had committed beforehand. "Else, your poor Meg may suffer the consequences…" Madame Giry's eyes blazed in anger.

She held up her hand to hit him, and he caught it easily in his hands. "You dare bring my daughter into this!" She snarled, glaring into his face just inches from hers. He looked back calmly at her, a small smile etched upon his face.

Madame Giry breathed deeply and calmed herself. "Stay away from Meg, and I shall not say a word to anyone…Erik." Erik's smile widened a little, and he shifted his hand so it was in a mock handshake position, and Madame Giry pulled away from him, and strode away. Erik tipped an imaginary hat to her steadily retreating person, and swirled his cloak back into his shadows.