Here is the next chapter. I own nothing, but the overall plot, everything else belongs to the people who have rights to the phantom. As always a big thank you for my BETAer Honeyphan. :) The title of the chapter belongs to Alan Mankin from the Little Mermaid Musical which I do not own. I hope you enjoy this chapter, even though it's a little on the short side.

"What do you mean?" Raoul stared at the chief of police.

The other man gulped. "I'm sorry, Monsieur Vicomte, but I cannot use a good number of my men on something like this with the Germans attacking on the borders of this very city."

Raoul sighed impatiently. He had been so certain that the young ballerina could lead him to the Phantom. Yet, the damned monster had escaped once more. He was a true devil who could vanish at a moment's notice. Raoul turned to the window, the same question still haunting him. What would it take for him to finally catch the monster? How long did he have to wait?

Raoul took a deep breath and looked back at the chief. "How long can we keep them there?"

"As I told you not much longer." He paused. "Sir, may I ask …why such a hunt for this madman?"

Raoul sighed, impatiently. "I need to catch that monster, do you understand?"

"Oui, Sir." The man bowed his head. "But…"

Raoul waved his hand dismissing the comment. "Just a few more weeks, he has to come back. He has no other place to go."

The chief bowed again and left without another word. Raoul sighed as he looked at the place where the officer had stood. Part of him knew the man spoke the truth of the war and needed his men to help. The whole city was under attack from the Germans and needed the gendarmesto help keep order within the city limits. Yet, a stronger part could not let the obsession of the Phantom go. He owed it to Christine and the hundreds of others the monster had traumatized and killed to bring the fiend to justice. It would only be a few more days and the monster would be caught.

I only want my Little Lotte to be healthy and this monster to be….

A knock at the door cut off his musings. Confusion ran through his mind, had the chief forgotten something? He cleared his throat and ordered the person to enter.

The door creaked open to reveal a young messenger boy standing in the entrance, dressed in simple attire. He took a small step into the room, bowed quickly, and held out an envelope. "For you, Monsieur."

Raoul glanced between the packet and the boy. "Who is it from?"

"From your family I believe." The boy moved toward him, set it down on the table, and backed away.

"Thank you." His voice was short as he tossed a small coin to the messenger before he waved a dismissive hand. The boy bowed again and left.

Raoul turned the envelope around, recognizing his mother's delicate handwriting. He sighed in frustration. Was she ever going to let him live in peace? Carefully, he tore open the envelope and read the message.

My dearest son,

I am sorry to inform you, but your father has insisted that you must come home immediately. We both worry about this obsession you have with being in the city and at such a harsh time. I know you have not given us all the details, but you must stop whatever you are doing there at once and come home where you will be safe. Your father has arranged a private escort to bring you back safely through the German lines. He will meet you in the lobby of your hotel. I cannot wait to hold you in my arms again. Please make haste my son and we will be together soon.

Your loving

Mother

Raoul stared at the note. It seemed unreal as he read it a second time. How could his parents ask him to come home? To give up the hunt and his need to be here when the news of Christine's improved health came or when she was well enough to be released? What would he do?

Are they so willing for me to give up? Raoul set the letter down and poured a glass of brandy. He took a sip and thought over his options. Yet, he knew the answer; if his father had insisted he could not refuse. He set the glass down and walked out of the tenement. Raoul only hoped that the plans for capturing the Phantom would work without the need for him to be in the city. Taking a deep breath, he strode down the corridor to the entrance.

He entered the lobby and looked around. A few people were talking to each other while others just sat by themselves and read the newspaper. Raoul smiled inwardly as he looked down at his clothes. Since the war had started, he had taken to wearing peasant garments when he wandered around the city and in the hotel too. It still amazed him that no one paid any attention to him.

His eyes wandered around the room again. How was he meant to know who his escort was? He paid the manager and waited at the desk. An older man in commoner's clothing moved toward him.

"Good afternoon, Monsieur Vicomte. Would you like to go for a ride?"

Raoul stared at him, on his guard. "And you are?"

The man lowered his voice. "I'm here at your father's request. Come please we haven't much time."

"How do I know you speak the truth, Sir?"

The man handed him an envelope with the de Changy family seal on it.

Raoul looked at it and back at the man.

The man smiled. "I believe your fiancée's favorite flower is a red rose and she used to sing."

Raoul blinked and then smiled as recollection set in; the man was the gardener from the country estate. "Oh it's good to see you, Monsieur Martin. But why…?"

The gardener nodded. "I am not the type they are looking for on either side, French or German. Now, shall we go?"

Raoul nodded and together the pair left the hotel into the almost deserted streets of Paris.

XxX

Madame Giry poured a cup of tea and sat down by the hearth. A large novel lay open on the side table, but she did not pick it up, her thoughts elsewhere. It had been almost three days since she had seen her old friend, after Meg had delivered the awful news about Christine and fear had begun to set in. What could she do? Since they had first met, she and Erik had helped each other like true companions. Yet, now she was at a loss of how to help him. She sighed and looked out the window to the street.

A group of gendarmeswere stationed outside of the tenement incase the monster returned. They had questioned her and Meg about the mystery guest and also the events of that fateful night all those months ago. Closing her eyes, Madame Giry could still picture the disaster; feeling the heat from the fire and smoke in her lungs as she and her daughter had tried to escape after the mob had resurfaced. The memories still chilled her to even think about them, but she had remained strong. She took a sip of her tea and leaned back in the chair.

"Maman, are you all right?" Meg peeked out from her bedroom.

Madame Giry smiled at her. "Oui, I'm fine and what about you?"

"I'm fine, but must they stay outside and treat us like criminals under house arrest?" Meg slipped into the living room and sighed in frustration. "And what of him and Christine? Shouldn't we be helping them?"

"We are helping them by staying here and keeping the authorities distracted. I'm certain this will pass ma cherie."

"How do you know, Maman? I feel so useless by not helping them." Her voice was soft, filled with concern.

Once more, Madame Giry smiled. Despite all that had happened, she saw her daughter's caring nature for her friend and a man, almost a stranger to her. Her daughter took after herself and the father Meg had never known.

A dull pain rose in her heart as she thought of her late husband. They had met at a New Year's Eve party, become fast friends, and had married the following June. Yet, soon after she had become pregnant, her husband had taken ill and left the world within a few weeks. Since then, she had tried with all her power to protect Meg.

Madame Giry looked at the fire. "I have faith and with this dreadful war people will soon forget about the opera house and all of this hunting. It shall all go away soon. Now why don't you go practice some of your dances?"

Meg shook her head. "What is the point? The opera will never be the same and besides the new management will not want-"

"I will hear none of that. Now go and practice and keep dreaming of becoming the Prima Ballerina."

Meg nodded, unable to refuse her mother's command. "Oui, right away, Maman."

Madame Giry sighed and took the novel onto her lap. Yet, the story would not allow her to escape. Her words to her daughter continued to run through her mind. Despite her reassurance and faith, she still had some lingering doubts. What would the new mangers think? Would there even be a reopening of the opera house with the war still brewing? She took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair again, praying for the answers to come and for the safety of those she loved.

XxX

Starlight shone through the kitchen windows. Christine sat in the small chamber, the scent of stew filling the room. She stared at the bowl set in front of her, her stomach growling. The whole experience in the chapel seemed like a dream as time had passed. Had it really happened? What did it all mean?

She looked at her hands and remembered the twinge in her arm from where the man had grabbed her. It had shocked her at the time and yet somehow felt familiar. And the man…Erik's face stood out to her. It was the face of the devil, but those eyes had stirred something inside her. Yet, she could not put her name on it. She tore her attention away from her hands and began to eat the stew; the meat and liquid warm on her tongue.

By the stove, Sister Norah nodded in approval. "Oui, it is good to see you eating something. It might even help you sleep and recover."

Christine swallowed and paused looking down at the stew. Could something be something in there that would drug her? Quickly, she set the spoon down and pushed the bowl away.

Sister Norah looked over at her. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I'm…just not that hungry."

"My dear, you have to eat something…." Her voice trailed off as Christine shook her head.

Sister Norah sighed and walked over to her. "What is wrong? You saw me make the stew."

Christine shook her head again. "Nothing. I'm fine really, Sister. I guess I'm just tired."

"Are you sure?"

Christine nodded. "Oui, I think I just need to go and rest."

Sister Norah paused for a moment before she nodded. She moved over and helped Christine up and out of the kitchen. A few torches lit the small corridor as the two walked toward their shared chamber. Occasionally, she glanced over at the Sister, but she did not acknowledge Christine. Had she heard anything that occurred in the chapel? If so why had she not said anything? Erik's words came back to her and she shivered. Was the whole conversation some twisted figment of her imagination? She tried to focus on anything concrete, but something kept nagging at the back of her mind.

Christine took a deep breath and looked at the nun. "Sister Norah…did you hear anything that happened in the chapel?"

Sister Norah paused. "No, that place is meant for private confession. Did something happen in there?"

Christine shook her head. "No…of course not. I was just curious."

"Child, I cannot help you if you do not tell me what is going on with you."

Christine sighed, not knowing how to answer. Sister Norah had told her about her rescuer. Yet, connecting her rescuer and the man in the chapel was too difficult to comprehend. The scene played out in her mind, but reality and dreams were merging together the longer she tried to separate them.

Everything is so messed up. Christine vaguely felt the Sister guiding her into the bedchamber. She allowed the other woman to help her change into a nightgown. Christine slid into the single bed as the Sister changed into her own nightgown and slid into her own bed.

Lying awake, Christine again tried to piece things together. She vaguely recalled people, almost in another life, calling her a dreamer. Perhaps she had been, but now she needed to know the truth. What had really happened to her? She drew the covers under her chin and closed her eyes. Tears began to roll down her face as a sharp pain twisted her stomach and heart. What is happening to me? What happened...? Her thoughts trailed off as she slipped into a restless slumber, the silent chamber surrounding her.

Oh so what will Christine do without Erik to comfort her? Well you will have to wait and see. I know Erik is not in this chapter, but there are other people tha are important too and will become even more later in the story. Again, I know know many people want Christine to sing more, but at the moment and where Christine has been and what she has been through singing is not something she is able or willing to do.

Just to clarify, Christine's time at the church has been one day, but it has been three since Madame Giry saw Erik (The trip the ayslum took him two).

So I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please review. :)