Hello all! I was so happy to see all the reviews for the last chapter! I'm also glad to see some new people have started reading. You guys make this so fun. I remember when I posted the first chapter of AWD, someone took me off their alert list and I got scared and considered taking the story down. But I'm glad I didn't because a lot of new people have been added, and I have really enjoyed writing this.

Couple of Notes: Some of the elements in this chapter are derived from Susan Kay. I don't think I ever revealed Erik's age in this piece, but he is supposed to be somewhat older than the movie Erik. More along the lines of late forties/early fifties or so...

Okay...after four chapters with basically no fluff...I'd say we could use some. This chapter may come out a little shorter, and I was going to put a Raoul scene in, but I decided to reserve this chapter just for E/C resolution and fluff. Hope you don't mind...

Christine awoke with a start and sat up straight, the faint traces of some unknown nightmare still lingering in her mind. She rubbed her temples, still not entirely rested and certainly not ready to face what new troubles the day would bring forth. A part of her wished to remain in bed all day, secluded in the little underground nook. At the same time, though, she was eager to earn her beloved's trust again. The realization that the day could possibly end with her leaving him alone in the darkness gave her unbearable heartache.

With a sigh, she finally got up, trying to ignore the vague ache in her shoulder from the night before. Taking a silver brush off the dresser, she raked it through her matted curls. Pinching her cheeks to add some color to them, she took a final look in the hand mirror before opening the door and leaving the room. Immediately she saw Erik's frame hunched over the table; he was quickly writing something down.

His thick suit jacket was back on, black and perfectly pressed, and he looked more as she was used to seeing him. Had she not been so afraid of rejection, she would have run up from behind and embraced him-burying her head lovingly into his shoulder and vowing never to leave him alone again.

Christine closed the door loudly behind her so that Erik would be aware of her presence. The last thing she wanted to do was startle him again. Erik looked up at her with no expression, nodded once in greeting, and returned to his work. A melancholy feeling overtook her at his continuing coldness, and she sauntered over to the divan and plopped down.

She sat there for a moment, wringing her hands and looking around aimlessly about the cavern. All she could hear were the monotonous scratch of a pen and an occasional drip of water. The terrible near silence was beginning to drive her completely mad, as was the thought of the danger that was coming nearer with each passing hour. Finally Christine took a deep breath and spoke, hoping his heart had softened since last night.

"Erik," she began, her voice shaking slightly. "Should...won't the police become involved with Monsieur Ames' disappearance. I imagine that Raoul sent him to watch me. He knows where your home is, and I imagine he will suspect you." There was silence for a moment.

"I have no doubt that they will journey here at some point," he said tonelessly, not looking up from his writing.

His lack of concern bothered her, like someone ready to face their deadly fate. "Shouldn't we leave then? Perhaps no one will find us if we go to our house." She put a slight emphasis on the word "our," hoping to convince him of her true intent to stay with him. It did not seem to work, though.

"Leave if you would like."

Devastation overtook her weary heart, and she could feel her tears begin to form in her eyes Desperately, she tried to keep herself from crying and from acting like the child he accused her of being. "Erik," she began again, composing herself with a deep breath. "I beg you to listen to me. All I wished was to make sure that Raoul was safe. And I wished was for us to be able to live in peace...to live normally..."

He interrupted her quickly and whirled around. "Normally! Christine, we shall never live normally! Do you think we shall take walks through the city and have luncheons with your friends? Did you have a picnic at the park in mind? You cannot simply attempt to fix everything to your liking, you silly child. Do you not understand?"

"Erik, I do understand," she said. "But Raoul deserved to know. I wanted everything to be resolved, though it did not work out that way." She sighed and looked down before continuing. "I suppose I have made a mess of things."

"Christine, why do you not leave? This is obviously not the kind of life you were meant for." He did not sound angry anymore, simply tired. And really, it was no wonder. He had spent months in the hellish bounds of unrequited love, had dangerously come to her rescue several times. And had been abandoned all over again. And though she did not know the details of the rest of his life, she knew that is was difficult and full of mankind's hatred of him.

"Is that what you really want, Erik? Do you really want me to go?" Her voice shook with the questions, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. He did not respond. Finally he rapidly stood up and began to walk away without answering her. Christine quickly arose, though, eternally grateful to be able to walk and have even the slightest control over her surroundings. She ran to him and grabbed onto his shoulder. "Erik, please," she whispered. "I am sorry if I have hurt you. Perhaps you are right. I do have silly notions of life and what it should be. But I love you. And I swear to God that I will not hurt you again."

He stopped and stared at her, feeling a sickness consume him. "No, Christine," he replied with a sigh. "They are not silly notions. They are what you deserve. Not solitude. Not darkness." He started to turn away from her again, but she grabbed onto him, placing herself up against him.

"Please, Erik. I want a life with you and whatever comes with it. Do not leave me alone." She kissed him furiously, and he shivered beneath her warm body. He stared down longingly, at her luxurious thick curls and soft curves, his mouth still tingling. God, why could he not simply have her like a normal courter? Why could he not walk arm in arm with her out of this dark hell and down the Parisian streets without gawks and stares?

She gripped onto him, her large brown eyes silently pleading with him to stay. A strange feeling entered him, racing throughout his entire body. It was invigorating at first as it coursed through his veins, but after a moment it became almost painful, like a hot knife burning into his rapidly beating heart. He leaned down slowly to kiss her, not knowing whether he was desperately in love or dying. Perhaps both.

As Christine leaned upward in relief to meet his lips, a look of agony reached his eyes, and he gasped slightly. "Erik!" she exclaimed with concern. "What is wrong?" He pushed her away from him, gripping onto his chest and stumbling his way to the plush sofa. Erik fell upon it with a faint groan. "What is wrong?" she cried, rushing to where he lay with her mouth twisted in worry.

His golden eyes closed for a moment, and he said nothing, further adding to her panic. "Erik!" she gasped. "Oh God! Please. Talk to me. What is wrong?"

Finally he looked at her, breathing harshly. "I shall be fine," he said calmly. "My age reveals itself every so often." Indeed he looked older than she had ever seen him.

"Is there something I can do?" She gripped onto his hand with both of her own, trying to warm the icy flesh. Noticing his rapid breath, she cautiously moved her fingers to the corners of his mask. He glared at her and began to raise his hands to prevent her from removing it, but she swallowed and ignored him. "Erik, you need to breathe. Please. I do not care about your face. If you die, though, it will kill me." Reluctantly he allowed her to, turning his head sharply so as not to see the disgust of yesterday in her expression. The cool cavern air hit his right side, and he found that his breath did come easier. "Is there anything I can do?" he heard her desperately ask again.

"There is a blue bottle in the third drawer of the kitchen. Get it, if you will." Quickly she ran over and beginning frantically digging through drawers, throwing useless items onto the floor. Finally she found the bottle, ran back to his side, and quickly twisted it open. After she handed it to him, Erik drank twice from it before turning back to her. He was relieved to see no repulsion in her face, only concern. "I shall be fine, Christine. I have been neglecting my health as of late."

"Oh..." she gasped with a horrified look, thinking it to be her own fault. Kneeling next to him on the floor, she placed her face into her hands in self-hatred. "I am so sorry, Erik. Please...please forgive me for leaving." Realizing that she might be putting more distress upon him with her desperate pleas, she attempted to compose herself. Suddenly, she felt him grasp her two wrists, and she looked up at him.

"Calm down, Christine," he said firmly, though with a faint hint of amusement. "I shall be fine within several hours." He was surprised as she carefully placed her arms around his form and buried her head almost desperately into his shoulder. At first his heart began to race again, but, to his relief, it slowed after a moment. With her in his embrace, a peaceful feeling overtook him, and he began to doze, musing over the horrible irony of dying just when he had her again. It would really be the appropriate ending to his life. As he slept, Christine took great notice of his chest, making sure that it steadily continued to rise and fall.

When he awoke several hours later, he realized most of the pain had subsided, though a general weakness still remained. All he felt was the pressure of her body against him. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to treasure the warmth. Reaching down, he groped around on the floor for his mask but was unable to find it. Christine rose up slightly, intently looking into his eyes.

"Are you better?" she asked shakily, gripping onto his hand.

He was extremely nervous at having her up so close to his horrible visage but managed to calmly reply to her question. "I am."

"Erik, the police will come soon," she said softly. "Please forgive me. I promise I will not leave you again. Let's get out of here together. Let's go to our home."

He settled his gaze upon her, his beautiful guardian Angel. "If you wish," he replied. Raising himself up, he cautiously took her into his arms, and she gripped onto him. He couldn't push her away anymore, at least not without killing himself in the process. And even without his mask on, she was looking at him as she did the wretched boy that night under the gaze of Apollo. No, the look she was giving him right now was more powerful...more complete. He closed his eyes again in bliss and felt her lay a soft kiss on the right side of his face. Perhaps she was ready to be his bride.

"Can we still be married?" she asked shyly and with a small smile. "I can walk down the aisle now."

"I would have preferred to have carried you," he replied into her hair, with a touch of good humor. "There was something rather enticing about you not being able to run away from me."