Chapter Five

She was crying when he reached the main room, surrounded by a cold emptiness that seemed to envelope her and her shoulders shook. Madeleine looked up as her son walked in, eyes brimming with tears. "Erik…"

He straitened his back and squared his shoulders, eyes nearly glowing with irritation at the thought of coming back to this room, standing before his mother. Like so many other times. No, he reminded himself. It's all different now.

"Marie asked me to come here." Stupid! He'd come of his own accord, hadn't he? He was not here for Marie, he was not here for Madeleine, he was not… Who was he here for? Damn her!

Madeleine sniffed prettily. "Thank you," she murmured, standing very slowly. "I've been perfectly horrible, Erik. Old habits, yes? No… Habits can be broken and will be. Please sit."

"I'd much rather stand."

She nodded. "I'd like to ask you to stay with us. Give me time, Erik. Go to the church if you wish to. Do anything you wish and pay my old ways no heed. I'm quite the fool, you know, for all my learning." She laughed a little at this.

He stared at her a moment, eyes never wavering. "Very well then," he murmured and was gone in an instant, leaving her to her quiet, tear-streaked self.

Christine had expected to hear screaming. Erik's voice, even when he did not mean to raise it, often found a way to be carried to every part of the area he was in, especially when he was angry. No raised voices came, only quiet murmurings from the other room and Marie bowed out quietly when the Phantom appeared in the doorway to the attic.

"It went well enough," he answered her unasked question. "We will stay a bit."

"Is that alright?"

"Would I have agreed if it were not?" His stern expression softened when he saw her flinch at his cold words and he reached a hand out. A hand she eagerly took and he pulled her into his embrace.

"So will I see the church tonight?"

"By night?"

"I want to see it by the moonlight. With the moon streaming through the glass! A very romantic scene, wouldn't you say?"

Erik raised an eyebrow. "If you say…"

Christine giggled at this, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. "I love you, Erik."

His smile reached his eyes as he scooped her up, kissing her. The kisses traveled down her neck and to her collarbone, telling her of his love more than any words could express. His lips moved to her shoulder and she felt her eyes lull. "Should we be doing this now?" she murmured, trying to grasp onto the last bit of realization she had of the outside world.

"Past the point of right or wrong," he whispered breathlessly, guiding her towards the bed and they fell against it.

The moonlight streamed in just as Christine had hoped it would, casting eerie shadows against the ancient walls of the beautiful church, the half-lit candles shedding soft light against their faces as the moved along the otherwise dark corridor to the main room of the church.

"I used to sneak out as a child," Erik was saying as his eyes ran along the room. "I'd come to play the pipe organ." The mismatched eyes landed on the said instrument. "A ghost haunted this place."

Christine giggled at his words. "A ghost haunting a church! Surely people wouldn't believe that!"

"People believe anything that is spread," he murmured quietly.

Christine saw the sadness in his eyes and touched his arm lovingly. "Won't you play something for me, Erik?"

"People will hear!"

"Well then, a ghost has come," she answered with a laugh and tugged him toward the organ.

Erik's song echoed through the room of the old Catholic church, the notes ricocheting off the walls and his eyes closed with his fingers waltzing over the keys. Christine felt herself slipping into the music and her voice drifted along with his music. She'd begun to loose herself in it all when it stopped abruptly. "Footsteps," he murmured, pulling her into the shadows of the church. She melted against him, feeling his strong arms around her.

A young priest appeared, eyes wide with confusion, calling out for whomever it was to come forth. When no one did, he turned and left quickly, shaking his head the whole way.

"Did you see his face?" Christine laughed as they stepped out into the snow. "Poor man! I feel as if we must have sinned by frightening him!"

Erik shrugged his broad shoulder. "If it is then it is. Was it worth seeing the church?"

"Very much so!"

"What next?"

Christine turned her eyes down to her snow-covered boots, a small blush creeping to her cheeks. "This may sound odd… but could we go to the graveyard?" She saw her husband raise an eyebrow in confusion or amusement or both and she rushed to explain. "I wanted to… see your father's grave. I never met him, but I'm sure I would have wanted to. He's buried here, isn't he?"

"I don't know," Erik responded quietly. "I never looked. Mother never said."

"Would it be too terrible to look?"

"Feel free."

Christine watched his expression, wary of any signs that he was uncomfortable with their next location. In their short trek to the small graveyard she saw none and she began her search. Suddenly realization dawned on her. "Erik? What is your last name?"

The Phantom seemed to stiffen a little at the innocent question. "I… don't really know."

"You never asked?"

"Who would think to?"

She nodded, seeing the logic in the retort and moved onto the next tomb. Erik had once told her that his father had died the same year of his birth: 1831. That and his first name were really all she had to go on, but how many men died in 1831 with the first name of Charles in this tiny town? Hopefully only one. Her eyes finally rested on what she'd been searching for. "Erik! I found it!" she called.

Her husband moved with no great haste to her spot and looked at the tomb she'd been pointing at. "The last name is worn out," he muttered, sounding slightly disappointed.

"Perhaps it's only the ice," Christine tried to encourage, reaching one gloved hand out to the stone and rubbed at it.

Erik caught up her small hand and shook his head. "No my dear. Some things are simply not meant to be."

She nodded turned her gaze back to the stone. "I'm sure he would have been good to you, Erik. Things would have been different. He would have loved you so much."

"No," he answered curtly. "He would have hated me just as she did. But what does that matter? He's dead now."

He'd expected to see a horrified expression cross her face at those last words, but only sadness rested there, turning her beautiful mouth into a slight frown. It was only then when he realized that she shivered with the cold and he shrugged off his cape, wrapping it tightly around her. "You'll catch your death, my dear."

"Do you not remember what happened the last time you gave me your cloak?" she teased.

"Very well indeed," he answered with a smile. "Come now, love. The sun will be up soon and we shouldn't be found away from the house."

"It was the strangest thing, I tell you!" Marie said as she set her teacup down. Her eyes traveled from Madeleine, to Erik, and finally to Christine.

"Well get on with it!" Madeleine snapped impatiently.

"I was talking to our young priest and he said he heard the oddest thing in the sanctuary last night. He heard the organ playing-" she turned her eyes to Erik, though not accusingly – "and so he went to see what it was. On his way there, he said he was sure that he heard – and he said that there was no doubt in his mind of what it was – an angel singing Bach."

Christine seemed to choke on her tea and Ayesha – who'd been sleeping in her lap – looked up to her with questioning eyes. She soothed the cat by stroking one thin hand down her long back. "Angels sing Bach?"

"Apparently," the aging woman said. " Strange, don't you think?" A smile perked her lips.

"Perfectly unbelievable," Erik responded and took another sip of his tea.

A/N: I combined a oneshot I did into this story. I did the oneshot and decided to expand off of it, and this is what came about, so if it look familiar, that's why! Lol.

LostS: I do so love the interaction between Madeleine and Erik! It's fun to write! Gives me a stress relief from the end of school. Senioritis is horrible!

Angel of Misery: I guess I'm very blessed to get along with both my folks (most of the time hehe…) I hope Erik can work it out too, but ya know there's going to be chaos until then lol!

Lynx Ryder: Yeah, I wouldn't go back either. I'd be like "no way, deal with your own guilt. You deserve every minute!" Lol… but oh well… Erik's got Christine there with him and he can live through anything:is in an overly-gushy-romantic mood:

Jo: Yupyup. They're much fun to write.