The Phantom of the Opera

Part Nine

The journey to Paris seemed unbearably long for Christine, even though she rode as quickly as she could. The roads were long and dark but soon she saw the lights of the city shining ahead. It was only when she entered the city that she realized she didn't know where Erik could be.

The Opera Populaire seemed the most likely place, so she rode there. She went into the lobby and bumped into Monsieur Reyer. "Miss Daae! Did you find him?"

"No… but I know he is in Paris. He thought I was dead, that was why he didn't come. Has he been here?"

"No, but I doubt very much that he would walk through the front door. Perhaps he is using one of his many passageways," Monsieur Reyer suggested. Christine stared at him and then thanked him before darting towards her bedroom.

She pressed her hands against the mirror, trying to open it. "How on earth did you do this, Erik?" she muttered. But it was no good, she couldn't move the glass. In irritation she slapped the surface, her fingers catching one of the patterns as she did so. Without warning the glass slid back smoothly. Christine stared at it then smiled, stepping into the dark passageway, holding onto a lamp as she did so.

Thoughts of her first journey here ran through her brain. The way Erik had guided her through the darkness, the way the music had flooded her very soul…

"Erik?" she called. Her voice echoed back, but there was no other reply.

It took her some time and she was tired, her arm ached, and she felt a little ill. But she pushed on. Knowing that Erik was somewhere nearby was enough, to know that he could be here with her… a thrill went through her and she continued.

Luckily the boat was resting gently on the shore. Erik must have left it here the night they had sung on stage. She climbed in and used the pole to push herself along. It took her a long time as she wasn't quite sure of the way and had to turn back several times.

"Erik? Are you here?" she called desperately, but there was still no reply.

After what seemed like forever Christine found his home. She climbed ashore and looked around. The candles were unlit and everything was covered with a fine layer of dust. She ran a finger over the organ's keys. They were dusty as well. It was clear that no one had been here in weeks.

"Erik, please… if you're here, please, answer me!" she cried. No one replied. Christine sank onto the organ stool, resting her head in her hands. "I didn't know… I thought you were dead… I thought you were dead…" she sobbed, her exhaustion finally overcoming her. Slowly she went to the swan shaped bed and rested on it, not even trying to fight sleep.

When she awoke it was to find Madame Giry shaking her. "Christine… come along. You should come upstairs now. He is not here."

"There has been no sign of Monsieur Erik, but we have people searching for him. I should think that once he discovers you are here he will come," Firmin said. Christine smiled her thanks and Monsieur Reyer cleared his throat. Firmin nodded. "Very well. Monsieur Reyer has a suggestion."

Christine turned to him and he said, "Well… I cannot for one moment say that I know Monsieur Erik as well as you do. But from what I understand, he is something of a… showman. He likes his magnificent entrances, as he did on the night of the opera."

Christine nodded. "Yes…" she said, not understanding. Monsieur Reyer smiled.

"We are holding a gala tomorrow night, as you may be aware. Madame Giry and I have discussed it and if it were to be widely advertised that you are singing tomorrow night, and if Box 5 were left empty…"

"He might appear!" Christine finished for him.

"What do you think?" André asked.

Christine looked down at her engagement ring and then smiled. "What song did you have in mind?"

She spent all of the next day rehearsing the song. Monsieur Reyer insisted that they go over it again and again and she had no problems with that. It had to be perfect. It had to be.

Madame Giry had a costume prepared for her, with long, flared sleeves to cover the heavy cast. Meg made sure that Box 5 was clean and ready. It seemed that everyone in the Opera House was involved in some way.

As the evening drew near Christine went down to the chapel, where she prayed to her father. "Please, Father… please help me this night. Please send him to me…" she murmured. The candle flickered slightly and Christine sighed, looking down at the sheet music in front of her. "I want to please him. Help me to do well, Father. I shall try my best."

"Christine? It's nearly time," Meg called. Christine got to her feet and looked down at the candle. A smile crossed her lips.

"Please send my Angel of Music," she said one last time before turning to face her fate. For a moment she thought she heard something but then it was gone. She shook her head and continued to the stage.

Christine waited to enter onto the stage, clutching her locket in one hand. There was tumultuous applause as the ballet dancers finished their routine and left the stage excitedly. Madame Giry kissed Christine's cheek. "Good luck my child."

"Thank you, Madame." Christine smiled as her name was announced and more applause rang through the theatre. She walked onto the stage and her eyes instantly lifted to Box 5.

It was empty.

She bit her lip and then looked down at Monsieur Reyer who nodded to the orchestra and began to conduct them. The soft music started and Christine looked around the theatre once more. Firmin and André were sat in another box, and the crowd waited for her to sing. The cue arrived and she opened her mouth.

Think of me

Think of me, darling

We never said goodbye

Think of me

If you are here, please

Once again, I'll try

If you find

That once again I'm here

And if your heart will let you be

If you can ever do so

Will you sing with me?

We never said our love was evergreen

Or as unchanging as the sea

But if you can still remember

Come and sing with me

Think of what we had and what it means

Don't think about the way things might have been

Think of me

Think of me waking

Silent and resigned

Imagine how

How good it felt to

Have you near my side

Recall those days

Look back on all those times

Think of what we could still do

There will never be a day when

I won't long for you

The music swelled to a triumphant crescendo and the audience started to applause. Christine felt breathless, her eyes still searching for a glimpse of him but finding none. Firmin and André were smiling down at her but she didn't return it. Her eyes went once more to Box 5 to find it still empty. Monsieur Reyer nodded to her and she began to sing again.

Sing with me

Darling, please sing with me

If you are here then

Know it's true

It is all I ever wanted

Just to sing… with you!

She ended on a perfect note and the crowd cheered again. Christine smiled slightly and curtseyed. Monsieur Reyer looked up at her expectantly but she shook her head. He was not here. She closed her eyes tightly and bit her lip to stop it from shaking. Please, she thought, please let him sing to me. A solo violin, the sound of his voice, anything…

Christine turned and walked from the stage. Several members of the chorus waited for her and Meg stepped forward. "I am sorry, Christine…"

Christine walked straight past, her eyes fixed on something ahead of her. Madame Giry touched her arm. "Christine?"

"He's not going to come, is he? No. Of course he isn't… I suppose I'm still just a little girl praying for an angel," Christine said in an extremely calm voice.

Madame Giry frowned. "Christine, he may not have known."

"He knew. You can't say he didn't, he knows everything that happens in this Opera House," Christine said, still perfectly composed. She took a deep breath and looked at Madame Giry. The ballet mistress shuddered at the cold look in her eyes. Christine removed the engagement ring form her left hand and passed it to Marie. "Here. If you see him, give him this. If he's here, he will come to you."

"What…?"

"I'm leaving. I'm not sure where I'll go. But I'm not going to stay here."

And with that, Christine Daae walked on to her room. Madame Giry stared at the ring in her hand and closed her eyes.

"Oh Erik… what have you done?"

Christine was packed that same night and summoned a carriage. Firmin and André told her that she was welcome to stay but she simply replied, "Too many ghosts. There are too many ghosts here."

She stood on the steps to the Opera House, waiting for the carriage when Madame Giry spoke from the shadows.

"What shall I tell him, Christine? What do you want him to know?"

"Give him the ring. That will be enough. Tell him you know no more than that."

"And of the child? Surely he should know about your child."

Christine didn't turn to speak. Instead she said in a dignified voice, "Tell him nothing. Nothing of me or my child. He has made it clear that he wants nothing to do with us."

"Christine, you are making a mistake. Isn't it possible he isn't here?"

"He left hours before we did and would go to nowhere other than this Opera House. He was here," Christine said quietly as the carriage rode up.

Madame Giry looked at her. "How do you know? How do you know for sure?"

Christine went to the door of the carriage and opened it. But she paused and looked back at her old friend. Her face was blank, but hurt shone from her eyes more brightly than the lamps that blazed above them.

"I know because he was there in the chapel. He lit my father's candle as he used to when I was young. Goodbye, Madame Giry."

She climbed into the carriage, pulled the door closed, and the carriage set off. Marie stared after her and then went into the Opera House. Down a corridor, through a hidden door, down a flight of steps, along a walkway…

"Erik?" she said, looking around the room. There was no sign of life. The room was as dusty as it had been when Christine had been there. But Marie went to a drape and pulled it away to reveal a narrow walkway through to another small room. She marched through and looked at the figure of the man hunched up on the floor.

"Erik, why did you not go to the gala? She was there, she was waiting for you!" Marie said harshly. Erik did not move. Marie knelt and moved his arms away from his face. He shuddered in pain. His mask lay discarded to one side and the full deformity of his face was on show. But it was not that which made Madame Giry stare at him in pity.

"Oh Erik… I am so sorry…" she whispered, placing her arms around him. It was then that the Phantom of the Opera started to weep like a small child whilst his oldest friend comforted him.

Christine Daae sat in the carriage, heading out of Paris. She couldn't know that at that moment Erik, The Phantom of the Opera, Opera Ghost, whatever you would call him, was at that moment weeping.

She couldn't know that he was mourning the loss of the two most precious things he knew of this cruel world.

She couldn't know that he wept for her.

Or that he wept for the loss of his right hand, without which he could never play his music again.

She couldn't know.

"I thought she was dead, Marie. Nobody told me that she had survived," Erik said miserably the next day. He turned the engagement ring over in his left hand. The stump of his right wrist was wrapped in cloth. Marie leant forward and started to change the dirty bandages. Erik winced but did not show any further sign of pain. Marie couldn't help but shudder at the weeping wound.

"Erik, this is infected. You have not had it properly tended to."

"I saw in the paper… that she was alive… I came to Paris at once."

"I know. Christine and I went to the house to find you but you had already left. Is there clean water somewhere?"

Erik didn't reply. She made an impatient noise and went to find clean water. A jugful stood nearby and she started to clean the wound. He stared down at the ring in his hand.

"You should have gone to the gala."

"I couldn't Marie. She is… she is perfect. An Angel. I was already marked by the devil and now he has taken my music from me. I do not deserve her."

"You're a fool, Erik. You always have been. You see the world as though it were only one way. Do you think Christine cared about your face the night she kissed you on the stage? Do you think she would care now your hand is gone?" Marie said furiously, patting the stump a little harder than was absolutely necessarily. Erik winced again and attempted to pull his arm away but she snatched it back, muttering under her breath.

As she wound fresh bandages around the clean wound, Erik said quietly, "All I could offer her was music."

"My god, Erik. You may be heralded as a genius, but I've never met anyone so stupid. Christine didn't want your music, she didn't want anything from you, except yourself. And now she has gone from this Opera House forever," Madame Giry said angrily.

Erik looked at her. "Then why did she send back the ring?"

"Because she thinks that you don't love her. Forget what I said earlier, you're both fools! I've never known two people to go through so much suffering simply because they will not communicate with each other!"

Marie got to her feet and threw the dirt bandages onto the freshly lit fire. "You lit the candle but you couldn't tell her that you were there? You could not have simply gone to her? Why do you always have to be so mysterious, Erik?"

"I was going to, but I saw her there in the chapel. I heard her sing on the stage and I thought-"

"You think too much. Now she is gone and no one knows where! Unless you leave this very moment you will not be able to catch up with her," Marie said crossly. But Erik didn't reply. She turned angrily to see his eyes had closed, beads of sweat trickling down his face. He had gone very pale and was trembling slightly. The infection had spread further than she had thought, Marie realized. She sighed. He would not be able to travel for some time. He would need rest.

"Come, Erik. We must get you to bed," she said quietly, helping him to his feet.

Once he was covered with blankets, Marie returned upstairs. He needed medicine and urgently. Meg was waiting for her in her room.

"Maman? Christine is gone?"

"She is, but we have other things to worry about. Monsieur Erik is extremely ill. I need you to go to this address and get some medicine," Marie said, scribbling on a piece of paper.

Meg frowned. "I thought he wasn't here?"

"He is and he is dangerously sick, so don't argue with me. Go to that address. Here is money, pay whatever they ask. Go!"

Meg darted from the room as her mother snapped the instructions. Marie sank into her chair and rubbed her temples. What a fine mess this was turning out to be…

Erik's illness lasted for some time. There was a point where Marie feared that he would die. He just seemed to have given up. More than once he had woken and reached out, calling for Christine. Marie and Meg took turns to watch him. One time Marie had come down to find Meg standing outside the bedroom in tears.

"He's calling for her again… he's crying… I couldn't… I…" Marie hugged her weeping daughter. This wasn't fair on her but nothing that she said would prevent Meg from helping.

It was two weeks after the infection took hold that Erik's fever finally calmed. Marie woke to find him sitting up, reading.

"How do you feel?" she asked. He looked at her. The illness had left him looking more skeletal than usual and his eyes seemed sunken in. He was so pale…

"I've felt worse," was all he said. Marie touched his forehead.

"You feel fine, but you're still weak. Do you want food?"

"Yes, please, Marie," he said, not looking up from his book.

The door opened and Meg came in. She looked at him in surprise. "You're awake!"

"Indeed, Miss Giry," he said calmly. Marie turned to her daughter.

"Fetch some food. Bread and soup will suffice."

"Yes Maman."

When Meg had left Marie said, "Erik, do you remember what happened before you fell ill?"

"Of course I remember, Marie. I'm not an idiot," he said sharply, putting the book to one side. Marie couldn't help rolling her eyes.

"Well? Do you intend to find her?"

"Miss Daae has made it quite clear that she wants nothing further to do with me. And in any case, if I did choose to search for her, where do you suggest I look?"

"You're just going to let her go?"

"What do you suggest I do, Marie? Hunt her down and force her to take me back? Excuse me, but I do still have a few strands of dignity."

"How selfish are you? Christine is little more than a child and you are going to let her have-"

She bit her tongue sharply. Erik looked at her quickly, "What were you about to say?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me, Marie Giry. I know you better than that."

"I cannot tell you."

She turned to leave but then she paused and looked back at the figure in the bed. "And Erik?"

"Yes?"

"Do try and wash. You smell terrible."

"I hope it will serve your needs?" the man said. Christine looked around the house and nodded.

"Yes. It will be perfect. I can pay you now, if you prefer."

"Indeed. There's a little paperwork but your husband could-"

"I have no husband," Christine said quietly.

The man looked rather embarrassed and said, "My apologies."

"I will look at the paperwork now and pay you. Also, I will be needing a maid. Do you know where I could hire an honest girl?"

"There are plenty in the village. I'll send one to you this afternoon."

"Thank you, monsieur," Christine said.

The house was perfect. Near to a village, clean, already furnished, close to the border of Switzerland. So close, in fact, that the mountains could be seen as a haze on the horizon. As the man dug in his case for the contract, Christine ran a hand over her stomach.

"Well, Little One, here we are. Our new home."

"If you could sign here…" the man said, pointing to a line. Christine bent and signed it as Christine Le Phantome.

"Thank you very much, Madame le Phantome. It has been a pleasure," he said with a smile.

Christine shook his hand. "Thank you for your help, Monsieur. And if you could send someone as soon as possible?"

"I'll go now. Welcome to our village."

When he left Christine sank into a chair. Her arm itched inside its cast, a sign that it was beginning to heal. The cast was not due off for another two weeks, though.

"This is an adventure, don't you think Little One? Our own home, starting a new life. A maid soon, I hope. We will be fine. I can't wait for you arrive. I expect that you will be musical. How could you not with parents like yours? Maybe we could find a piano somewhere and have it brought here. I wouldn't want to give up my singing. What do you think, Little One?"

She laughed and got to her feet. "Yes, we will be fine."

A/N: OK, I was just reading all of the lovely reviews you people left and thinking Wow, they're gonna hate me for this chapter! Lol, but I promise that Erik and Christine WILL be together eventually!

Also, I just bought another version of the soundtrack! I have the 2004 movie one and I just got one with Claire Moore and Graham Bickley. I know the true phans will hate me for this, but I think I prefer Emmy Rossum's voice. Oh well, just my thoughts on it. Interesting to hear differencet versions of it though!