Hey guys! I just got a job so things have been pretty hectic ^_^ hoping everything is good with you all, and thank you all so much for reading and for the comments

Erik pressed firmly onto Ophelia's bleeding stomach, folding the flaps of tissue back into their proper place, struggling for something to secure them with. Now he would make the choice to save his son or to save its mother. He pulled a ribbon from her long red hair and tied her body back in place, kissing her on the nose and staring in horror at her unconscious face. He ran through the building into the streets, his hands soaked in her blood, his face covered in a stained mask.

"Help!" He screamed, his voice scratchy and shocked. "Help me! My-" He had almost called her his wife. Oh god, how he condemns her before god himself, he should have married her as soon as he could. But now she was dying and facing a higher power he couldn't control. He wouldn't have it.

"Help me! Please god help!" He ran through the quiet night time streets alerting households with his musical screams. Soon he had reached the doctors, and was slamming on the door with all his power, a line of guards marching from some distance down the street. The hesitation from the sleeping professional urging him to scale the building walls to wake him. And so he did, shocking an elderly man and his wife out of slumber. "Hurry, please, hurry my-" He hesitated with his lie. "my wife- something terrible has happened to her."

The man stumbled upwards, too shocked to ask questions, and approached Erik unassumingly. "Monsieur? Where is she, what is wrong?" He failed to comply with an answer and instead lifted the small man upwards from his feet, looked around for his bag of doctoral instruments, and carried them both out the window to the shock of his wife, down the scaffolding of his home and only resting on the familiar shadow a Parisian street. The man clutched at his heart for fear, but soon felt as calm as he could be per the situation as Erik ran down the street with him in his arm, avoiding patrols and pedestrians to the man's apparent drowsy suspicion and overall sense of confusion.

Sooner than later they were in through the kitchen door, surging down the steps and lunging towards Evangeline's crumpled form, her breathing faint but still evident. "You are such a fighter my dove," Erik had dropped the man and was stroking her cheek. The man hesitated in splendor of the cavern, how unknown he and every other had been to it. "Hurry!" Erik urged, a sense of violence laced in his tone. The man didn't budge finally realizing who the man in the mask was. "You are him aren't you?" Erik nodded solemnly near his fleeting joy, smoothing her cheeks. "Please, my Evangeline, she isn't anything like me. She doesn't deserve to die. Please." The old man, kind hearted, recognized sincerity and obliged. After all, he could condemn the monster but not the innocent girl for dying for him.

He opened his kit, just as Evangeline opened her eyes faintly. "Erik," She whispered. "Yes, Yes I'm here," He looked lovingly down into her eyes, those green and wild irises he dared to see light in. "Where is he?" Their baby, the one he had left for her. He paused, and those sweet eyes grew desperate. She was going to bleed out if her heart sped up. "He's sleeping now, don't worry. We have him." She smiled. "You pick his name Erik," she spoke but her smile grew pained as the doctor stitched her together again. "shh, shh, I'm here, hold my hand." Erik smiled, as she gripped. "You are so strong my dove," He spoke soothingly, his voice like music. And she screamed, as if in labor as she should have been, instead of struggling for the sake of a knife cutting her baby loose.

She was unconscious from the pain before the doctor could finish. Erik was looking at her newly sewn stomach with regret as the doctor sterilized his needles.

"She won't be able to bear children after this monsieur, her uterus has been too scarred. The morning's coming within an hour or two, if she wakes by then she will be fine. If she doesn't," The man paused, and looked towards the ground uneasily. "Then understand me when I say this," Erik looked In horror at the doctors face, whose eyes now rose to meet his, "Then I have done all I can do." Erik nodded and stared into the distance. "Thank you," he choked on the words, a small tear escaping his masked eye, and rolling down his porcelain half. "Thank you for doing what you could to redeem a monster."

The man stared at him in pity, and walked over to the gondola, making his way to the dock and steps in the distance. He shouted from his place in the midst of the water, a sense of sorrow in his voice. "I did what I could to redeem a girl."

He left Erik with the sound of his echoing footsteps and Evangeline's fragile, labored breathing.

Erik sat, and thought, and cried while he waited to see those lovely eyes once more. Thinking of his mistakes, and thinking of all he had lost to them. His first mistake was being born, this is what he regretted most at this moment. And what this had cost him was the hatred of many from infancy. His second mistake, had been to continue living, this he had regretted many times, and perhaps regretted now equally to the first. His third mistake had been to kill, and kill as he had, to try to sate that pain they had inflicted upon him. His fourth, to ever have fallen in love with Christine Daae, his fifth to have killed Raoul DeChagny. His sixth, which he could never regret but forever mourn, was taking Evangeline into this life. Was not marrying her, was not leaving with her, was letting her leave, was taking her away from a safer place with her brother, was for hurting her, and for leaving her the burden of bearing his son, was making her his treasure, his only weakness that Christine could exploit in redemption for the revenge of a man who had always been good hearted. Who Erik had always despised for it.

But what he knew he would regret, most of anything if she didn't wake, and perhaps if she did, what he knew he would regret was the choice he had just made. Was the lie he had just told her. Was the surprise that would be on her face, the terror in her screams and her agonies. When she knew the truth.

Erik had picked the name of the little son he had never seen, had never fought for, had defied Evangeline's pleas to receive, who he might have left to a monster in vain if she didn't wake. His Cassius.

The name meant exactly what he was. Exactly what Erik had left him to become.

The lost, the empty.

But more truer a definition of Cassius,

was the robbed.

It's up to you guys! Will Evangeline live or die? Message me or leave a comment on what you think should happen