Chapter Eight

Christine felt Erik stir next to her, causing the cat to wake at the end of the bed and hop up. Ayesha rubbed against the singer's arm, purring loudly and begging to be petted. She smiled and reached out for the cat, running a slim hand down the Siamese's back and down her tail, listening to the noise she made. "Shh," she hushed with a smile. "You'll wake Erik."

Ayesha seemed to ignore her protests and moved up to her master's sleeping form, rubbing against his exposed face, the purr increasing in volume. Erik's mismatched eyes fluttered open and he muttered a slightly irritated, "My dear!" before shifting to turn his away from her.

Christine giggled, bringing her husband to full awareness. His mind registered that they were not in their own home, for there was light pouring in through a half-open window and it certainly did not feel the same. He shuddered as memories returned and his wife took it as pain, reaching forward and grasping his arm. "Erik?"

He turned toward her and forced a smile. "I'm alright, my love," he murmured, pulling her down to meet him. "I promise."

"You frightened me this morning."

"I'm sorry."

Christine felt a smile tug at her lips as he pulled her down again and felt his lips on hers. She melted into his embrace, but soon pulled away, breathless. "Erik, you're ill."

"I told you-"

"Yes, but…" His wife looked away and then quickly back. "Please, my angel, I don't wish to see you in pain like that again. You should rest, then we'll return as quickly as we can to Paris. We… should not have come."

There was a soft knock at the door that cut Erik's response off and it opened. Marie peered in shyly. "How are you feeling, Erik dear?"

He nearly smiled at her form of address. "Much better. Thank you."

"I suppose you'll be leaving when you feel better," she said meekly, her eyes seeming to avoid his.

A gasp escaped his lips as he realized that Christine had peeled his mask off sometime while he slept and it was perfectly visible in the late afternoon light. He flailed for it, searching for any possible place it might be at the bed's side, but only found it when his wife produced it from seemingly nowhere. He slipped it on quickly.

Marie looked ashamed for a moment and then look up, eyes sparkling with tears. "I'm sorry, Erik… I thought…"

"That she'd changed?" the Phantom finished for her with a wry smile. "Perhaps she has." He let forth a long sigh and felt Christine grasp his hand. "We cannot choose where or who we love, can we?"

The aging woman watched her best friend's son carefully, not quite understanding his meaning.

He looked up, meeting her eyes with his own sharp ones. "That does not mean that I will have anything to do with either of them in this house. Surely if she ever had any compassion for me, she will understand that."

"Will you say goodbye to her?"

"Perhaps."

A smile graced the lady's lips and she moved closer, placing a kiss on a very surprised Erik's forehead. "In case we never get a chance to say good bye, Erik dear. Have a safe trip back to Paris."

"Th-thank you," he stuttered, watching her leave.

Christine grinned at his side and kissed his cheek. "Why don't you rest a bit? I'll go downstairs and get some food, pack our things, and then we'll be off." She gave him a look when he began to protest. "Erik, I won't even hear of you going back without something eaten. Please?"

"Very well," he huffed.

Madeleine had tried to go and see Erik but Christine would hear none of it. "He's resting now," was all she said as she took what Marie had prepared for an early dinner up to him, leaving the three downstairs.

"Was he alright?" Madeleine asked her friend. "I can't help but… feel a bit responsible."

"You are fickle!" Marie murmured. "And yes. A bit or a lot."

"What am I to do?" the elder woman sobbed dramatically.

Her friend placed a hand on her shoulder. "Let him live his life, Madeleine." Her eyes wandered to where Etienne was standing silently. "Do not interfere unless he gives you permission. And you… live yours. He's willing enough to allow it."

"Is he?"

"Would it matter?"

"It did! I was going to burn them all, Marie! The masks… I was going to be rid of them all!"

"And it was too late," the normally timid woman answered sharply. "Perhaps with that in mind, you will allow him to bow out once again from your grand performance. Heaven knows you don't deserve to have him with you as a son after all you've done to him."

"Whose side are you on, Marie?"

"No one's. I am simply telling you what any good friend should."

Neither Erik nor Christine returned downstairs that evening and Madeleine rose the next morning to find a note scribbled on a scrap of paper and two tickets sitting on the kitchen table. The tickets were passes to seats in the opera house for a season. Madeleine's eyes skimmed the note.

Mother –

Forgive our hasty departure and our lack of appearance, but it was for the best. I have always had the most untamable of tempers when something strikes me as your Doctor Byre does. As my temper cools I come to realize the hypocrisy of it all. While I think certainly no kind thoughts of your Doctor Byre, I cannot think anything ill and still be of good conscious of my theory that no one can choose with whom or where they might find love. You'll have found the tickets by now, which I brought for you and your lovely friend Marie. If you wish me to, I will send along a third, though I'd ask you not bring him to my home. And as well I'd like to ask that you never return there either. Bar the direction from your memory at all costs. Yet you are welcome in my opera house.

-Erik

"Do you think they'll come to Paris?" Christine asked quietly as she stroked Ayesha's long fur.

"Yes," her husband responded distantly, watching the passing land from his place inside the carriage.

"Erik?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

He smiled at this. "And I you, my angel."

A/N: Well that's the last chapter. Next Thursday (May 13) I shall be going to Florida for a week and therefore will not be able to poke my nose into my computer. Terribly sorry. Anyway, I will endeavor to come up with a new story, though none has struck me as of yet. If anyone has any plot bunnies they'd like to throw at me, feel free. Though do try to avoid my head….

Migrating Coconuts 06: Haha! I'm going to have to agree with that! That's how I feel about a lot of people…

Lynx Ryder: Of course he'll be okay! I've only killed one of my favs off once… well, twice, but the second time I brought him back and it was the same character! So hmm…. Yeah… :hides that fic: I wouldn't kill Erik. He doesn't get off THAT easy!

I despise Raoul: What a lovely name! I wanted to thank you for your reviews! I actually do plan to write for a living, so that one complement really made me feel good! Thank you! Anyway, on to this review response! The only problem with cloning Erik is that he wouldn't be Erik…. So who's up for a little Phantom tug-o-war:evil giggle:

TS