Author's Note: The inevitable happened. School's back in session. That means updates are going to be fewer and further between. I know, it stinks. I wish I could just sit at my computer all day and type this up for you all, but, sadly, I can't. So, far now, here's the next chapter. Thanks for your patience and support! ~Shella DragoNoid

21. Surrounded by Death

Raoul was still watching her with the cold smile; it was triumph on his face, Christine knew. He finally had what he had been after; Erik was dead, and there was no one Christine could go to if she escaped. She would stay with Raoul now only because she had nowhere else to go. And that was all he wanted, her to stay forever. Raoul stood and came over to her, still holding the mask. Christine shrank back from Raoul and the piece of cloth in his hands as if they were poison.

She stared up at him with pain and tears in her eyes. "When…?" was all she could ask.

"Oh, I'd say…two days after you went to visit him." Raoul nodded. He knows?! Christine thought. He must have seen the confusion in her eyes, so he went on, "The captain told me that that was where you were a week ago. You went to see him one last time."

Christine looked at the floor and took a deep breath, trying to get herself under control. Raoul stood quietly while she recollected her thoughts. When she was silent for a while longer, he finally said, "Come now, Christine, you knew what his fate was. That was why you went to go see him wasn't it, to say goodbye? You know that he was going to die soon, so you snuck out to see him."

"Why would you…that?" she pointed at the mask, choking on tears.

"I thought you'd want to have it," he frowned, as if confused. "It's the last thing you have of him, and I thought you'd like to have something to hold onto. Something that was his…"

She glared at him, trying to figure out what he was playing it. While on the surface, him giving her the mask seemed cruel, heartless. He was bragging to her that Erik was actually gone. But if what he said was true, he had given it to her so she would have something of Erik's close by, all the time. Something to remember him by… But she had her voice. That had been his greatest gift to her, something special Erik had given her. She didn't need the mask. But Raoul seemed to be in a good mood, and she didn't want to spoil it by turning away his…gift.

Christine reached out and took the mask from him. "Thank you," she whispered through the tears.

Raoul nodded and went back to the bed, taking the box and wrapping paper with him. "You can come down to dinner when you're ready, Little Lottie." He exited the room, closing the door but not locking it.

Looking down at the mask, a fresh wave of grief washed over her. Christine clutched it to her chest as tears flooded down her face. "You can't be gone, Erik… You can't be…" Her immortal, indestructible angel...gone.

She slowly found her way back to the bed and curled up under the covers. Still holding the mask to her chest, Christine buried her face in her pillow and screamed. She felt like someone had ripped her heart out and there was no way for her to take it back. No one could bring him back from the dead, and there would never be another Erik. She would never have another angel of music.

As time went on, Christine didn't to leave her room, but this time the only reason she was a prisoner any longer was because she chose to be. Raoul had unlocked the door; she could leave whenever she wanted. But she didn't want to. She never wanted to face the world again.

"I can't live without you! I don't want to live in a world where you aren't there." That was what Christine had told Erik the last time she had seen him. She didn't want to live in a world where Erik wasn't there to sing to her, to practice with her, to hold her. For her, there was no life without Erik.

Days began to blur together. The servants brought her food and water, but Christine refused to eat. "Mademoiselle, you must eat," they begged her. "It's not healthy for you to starve yourself."

Still, Christine refused to eat. Eventually Raoul called for a doctor, but the only thing he could tell Raoul anything he hadn't already put together. "She's depressed, Monsieur, and if she doesn't get better soon, she will die."

When he realized the doctor would be of no help, Raoul called the one person left that could be able to help her; Madame Giry.

Madame Giry finally arrived at the de Chagny estate and went straight to Christine's room, not wasting time to ask Raoul what was wrong. She looked down sadly at the girl who had been her adopted daughter. She had once been so proud and happy, full of life. The Christine laying before her now had none of that fire, none of the life that had once graced her.

Sitting down on the bed next to her, Madame Giry said, "Oh, my dear, Christine… What has become of you?"

Christine looked up at Madame Giry and felt her wave of grief hit her anew. Madame Giry had been the one that had rescued Erik when he was a child. She had brought him to the opera house all those years ago, had been one of his only confidants. Did she struggle knowing that Erik was gone forever? If she did, she didn't show it.

"He's gone, Madame Giry," she said hoarsely. "He's really gone."

She didn't respond at first, only looked sadly down at Christine. Madame Giry placed her hand on Christine's forehead and sighed. "You're running a fever, dear… And your thinner than I've ever seen you… What are you doing to yourself?" Christine looked over to the corner of her room where her breakfast sat, untouched. Madame Giry shook her head. "You can't do this to yourself, my dear. If Erik were here, he wouldn't want you to starve yourself."

"I'm not hungry anymore," she responded.

"Think about what you're doing, Christine. You'll kill yourself at this rate."

"At least I'll be with him again," Christine shot back. "When I went to see Erik, I told him I couldn't live without him. And I meant it. There's no point in living in this world if I can't have him with me."

"What about me, Christine? What about Meg? Erik wasn't the only one on this Earth who loved you… And if he was still here, do you think he'd want you to do this to yourself?" Christine shook her head in response. "I didn't think so. You need to eat, and when you're better, you need to come visit me and Meg at the opera house. Come back and preform again. You know that's what he'd want you to do."

Christine nodded. "I do miss seeing you and Meg…"

Madame Giry stood back up and looked at Christine. Her eyes narrowed quizzically as she noticed that Christine was holding something. "What's that, dear?" she asked, pointing to the white thing in Christine's hand.

Biting her lower lip, trying to keep from breaking into a fresh wave of sobs, Christine pulled out the mask so it was in clear view. Madame Giry's face betrayed no emotion as Christine handed it up to her. "Raoul got it…said he wanted me to have something personal of Erik's…"

"He didn't give this to you out of the kindness of his heart, Christine. This is his reminder to you that he was victorious. This is his reminder that he's won. You can't keep it, dear."

"I need it, Madame," Christine cried, tears finding their way down her face. "It's all I have left of him! Every time I hold it, it's almost like he's with me again."

Madame Giry looked sadly down at Erik's mask. Tears were shining in her eyes. "I gave this to Erik when he first came to the opera house… He seemed content in just having that bag over his head, but I found it to be a reminder of where he came from... Of his horrible past... So I gave him this as a replacement… It was his first true mask… His favorite..."

In anger, Christine nearly screamed at Madame Giry; talking about Erik in the past tense made his death all too real, all too close. But she knew that the way Madame Giry spoke was correct; Erik was gone, and no matter what tense they talked about him in, he would stay gone.

"I'm sorry," Christine whispered, controlling her anger. That mask must have meant so much more to Madame Giry than it did to her. "If you want it…"

"No," Madame Giry said, shaking her head to clear it. "No, there's no need for me to keep it. I think…I think he'd want you to have it anyway." She looked at it one last time with longing before handing it back with a sad smile. "Will you start taking care of yourself and come visit me?"

"Yes, I will. I promise." Christine nodded.

Madame Giry's smile brightened and she kissed Christine on the forehead, then turned and left the room. While she had only stayed for a short while, seeing her again had rejuvenated Christine. She began to eat again, to bathe again, she started going outside more. The prospect of seeing her and Meg began to make her happy and healthy again. And a week later, Christine found herself walking down the streets towards Opera Populaire, ready to see them again.

The moment she reached the opera house, she knew something was wrong. The maids were silent going grimly about their duties, and no one was standing in the halls talking. Worried, Christine started for the ballet dormitories. She soon reached Madame Giry's office, and opened the door. It was empty.

Hurrying out of the office, she went to the dormitories where the ballerinas were sitting on their beds, speaking in hushed tones. Christine looked around, trying to find Meg. When she couldn't find her, Christine grabbed one of the other ballerinas that she knew. "Excuse me, but have you seen Meg?"

The girl's face darkened and she looked at the floor. "She's out at the moment."

"What about her mother, Madame Giry? Is she around?"

Sadly, the ballerina looked up at Christine. "You haven't heard, have you?" Christine shook her head, urging the girl to continue. "I'm sorry, mademoiselle, but Madame Giry…she died yesterday."

Christine felt as if the floor had fallen out beneath her feet. "What?"

"She…she was very ill this last month. The doctor's tried to save her, but they…they weren't able to. They say she died peacefully, though, in her sleep. She wouldn't have felt any pain… Meg's at the funeral home, making final arrangements. Messieurs Firmin and André are with her…" the girl rambled.

Slowly, Christine sank to the floor. This couldn't be happening. She was losing everyone. The angel of death was standing at her shoulder, but instead of just killing her and ending her torment, he was killing everyone around her that cared about her.