This is the 25 chapter and after this there will be no more until my friend and I start RPing this again which will be soon promise!! Anyway hope you like the story so far!! Can't wait to see what everyone has to say about it.

Chapter 25- Mask

Once back at the Opera Populaire she went down to his house and walking through the door said, "Erik! I'm home!" she took off her traveling cloak and put it on the rack that is was usually hung up on.

Erik poked his head out from the music room, sparse locks tousled and clothes rumpled. "Hullo," he said, rather spaced out, and then brightened. "Oh, Olivia, I was writing ..." He moved towards her slowly, his hands moving to take her around the waist as he held her close. "Where were you? I'm afraid I must have lost track of the time, sorry. I was ... right in the middle ... of ..." He drifted off, staring blankly into space.

"I was at Raoul's...Talking to him for a few minutes since I haven't seen him in awhile. I'm sorry I left so suddenly. You did read my note though I left you right?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. His voice and the why he looked confused her and made her slightly worry. "Umm, darling, are you all right?" she asked quickly wanting to know what was wrong; though in the back-of her mind she knew he probably hadn't recovered from the whole her being pregnant with his child thing yet.

"I think so." He faded for a moment, furrowing his brow. "Hm? Oh, I'm fine. Just in the middle of composing, dear ..." His eyes unfocused. He strained to focus them again, looking at her. "Right, at Raoul's. Of course. How is he?" He brushed his hair back with one hand, still looking quite dazed.

"He's doing all right," she replied with a frown, "Erik...Though you say you're fine you, to me, just don't seem yourself. Please I never meant for the news to shock you like it did...I-I never wanted to hurt you in anyway." She rested her head against his chest a couple tears ran down her cheeks slowly as her arms wrapped around him in a loving hug.

"Oh, that's good." He didn't seem to notice what she'd said until her arms were around him; then he started, putting his arms around her and clearing up visibly, if only for a second. "Olivia, I really am fine. I'm just in the middle of composing," he insisted stubbornly, although he hadn't written a note on the paper. He had been sitting, forcing the notes and writing the same tune over and over again.

"I love you Erik you must know that...I love you with all my heart," she said nuzzling her face into his chest lovingly. She then looked up at him with her slightly tear stained face. "And it's good you're composing...I've always loved your music." She tried to give him a smile but it only seems to turn into a grimace. No I will never leave Erik...I would die before I ever thought that way, she thought to herself but did not say out loud.

"I know." He didn't return the sentiment - not at first. He simply stayed silent for a moment, before smiling and seeming to realize what she'd said. "I love you too, Olivia. You're the most important thing in my life."

Nothing about the child. Maybe if he didn't mention it - if he ignored it - if he just pretended it didn't exist...

"But...you hate what's inside of me...You hate what we created...Erik it's a part of me as well...I know you know that," she said as she took a step back from him and pressed her hand to her stomach. You said I deserved children...Do you take it back now that I am pregnant? she thought but did not say it. She knew Erik didn't need that right at this moment, though the way he's been acting though he was getting her slightly upset as well...She wanted him to love their child, wanted him to fully see she'd never leave him, never hate him, but as of now he didn't.

He drew back, wiping his hand absent-mindedly on his trousers as though he'd touched something soiled. He didn't need a reminder of what was tearing him inside-out, thank you very much. He actually snarled a little.

He feigned innocence. "I don't hate it," he lied, although his emotion was plainly visible on his face. He wanted his mask. He was frantic all of a sudden, scampering about like a panicked rat. "Mask," he gasped, staring pleadingly at Olivia.

"Yes you do...You do hate it Erik! You fully expressed it earlier," she said her voice rising in anger at his lie. Then suddenly at the mention of his mask she turned grabbing it. "You don't need you damn mask! God! When are you ever going to get it through your head that no matter what happens I will always love you! I love you for you, Erik!" she suddenly finding a small tear in his mask tore it in half and then on the ground, "That is what I think of your mask Erik! And this is what I think about you the real you." She walked up to him and kissing him fully on his lips her hands on both of his cheeks.

Erik's eyes went wide at the sight of his mask in pieces. He couldn't take her kissing him; he hit her, hard, across the face, backing away and flattening himself against the wall. He had become an animal, reckless, fearful, cornered and frightened and ready to attack. His hands were up in front of him, bent into claw like, grotesque positions, and he was hissing, snarling, and he could not feel the tears slipping down his face.

The woman before him was no longer his wife but his newest, cruelest tormentor, the one who had taken from him the last vestiges of human dignity. He was slinking along the wall, fearful that she would descend on him again and touch his bare flesh.

Olivia fell to the floor when he hit her tears forming and falling from her eyes as she covered her face; rubbing it slowly. Her hair covered her face and her breathing was sharp. "I'm going to bed...I don't need anything to eat...I love you Erik and I'm sorry," she said in a soft and hurt voice. She stood up slowly, and walked into the room.

She laid in the bed with the covers over her head and silently crying to herself but she couldn't fall asleep even though she wanted to. She couldn't forget Erik's face of fear in her mind. She didn't care about his deformity but just the fear written on it made her upset.

Slowly he came back to earth, sliding down the wall as he clenched his hands on his legs. He had struck his wife; hurt the most precious thing in the world.

The tears were hot now, soaking the collar of his shirt and turning chill against his skin. He gave a loud, rough sob - he had not cried for ages, at least not satisfyingly. He gave full vent to his sorrows, each sob harsher than the last until it seemed he was trying to cough out his lungs. Strangely enough though it burned his throat to cry that way it felt amazingly good ... almost fulfilling.

He wanted to enfold himself in his wife's arms, to have her hold him, tell him it was okay, that he was normal. With a shuddering sob he raised his hand to knock on the door - then collapsed against it, choking on his tears.

She sat up wiping her eyes that were now red with how much she had been crying. She looked over at the door and getting up wondering what she had just heard. She didn't care how she looked at the moment, and opened the door cautiously. Upon seeing Erik collapsed up against it she stopped opening it any further so he wouldn't fall flat on his face.

She took a step away so she was a good 10 feet from him; her one side of her face was red from his smack. When he had struck her it caused something she never wanted to happen she slightly feared her husband. Yes, she loved him, but feared him hitting her; she didn't want to get hurt especially by her husband, by the man she loves most.

He glanced up, face flushed with the effort of breathing, and slowly stood. "I'm sorry." Two words that came out rough and hoarse, that tore him inside and made him start crying again. He longed to go forward and rest his cheek against the top of her head, to simply hold her and be held as he fell asleep.

He didn't move, noticing how she stood back from him. His keen eyes easily picked out the red spot he had caused and he retched, so disgusted with himself that he was nauseous. "Oh, God Olivia," he sobbed, now unable to hold himself back. He staggered forward, arms outstretched.

"Please. Please don't hurt me!" those words escaped from her mouth. Her mind and body was reacting to the fear of being hurt again by him as she began to cry again. She took another step away from him before falling to her knees; her legs had been shaking so badly that they couldn't hold her weight anymore. She looked up at him her eyes looking apologetic for her reaction she had truly wanted to rush into his arms but she couldn't bring herself not after what had happened to do that.

A look of honest surprise flashed across his face, remaining there before doubt and horror flooded in. He dropped his arms and backed away quickly, coldness filling his face, eyes and entire body. "I'll leave you alone," he said shortly, and his voice was as chill as winter air.

Turning neatly on his heel he managed to get about five feet down the corridor before falling onto his stomach and hauling himself along like a pathetic worm. This was, he reminded himself painfully, exactly what he was: a pathetic worm. He no longer had the strength or conviction to move. He pressed his cheek to the cold stone floor, worn smooth by countless footsteps, and closed his eyes.

His voice sent chills down her spine when he spoke. Go to him Olivia...He needs you! Needs you to show you that you love him, her mind to her.

What if he hurts me again? she asked back.

You know he won't that's out of the question...you left him standing there with his arms wide open to you, and you turned him away because of fear. Go to him now! You love him! He needs you and you need him, her mind said.

After a few minutes of convincing herself to go to him she gets up and slowly walks outside, but soon her eyes go wide seeing Erik on the ground. She rushes to him and her arms go around him. "I should be the one sorry Erik not you," she said in a soft voice to him.

"No." He shuddered, his voice weak and silent. He stiffened and sobbed in her arms. He didn't deserve her; he had never done anything to deserve such a perfect angel. It was tearing him up inside.

"No," he said again. "Don't be sorry, Olivia. You should be hurting me ... kicking me out ... at least not being so nice. I never wanted to hurt you. I'm sorry ..." He knew he was rambling, but didn't care. He felt wrong, being so loved and safe.

R&R