Disclaimer- I still don't own Phantom of the Opera, nor do I own any of its characters. I DO however, own little Erik and Rose- they are simply a figment of my imagination.

After wandering aroundfor what seemed like hours, Christine heard astartling sound resonating from across the cemetery. Clink. Clink. Clink. The sound of two swords meeting created an eerie echo throughout the quiet landscape.Holding her breath, she walked softly around the graves in an attemptto find the source of the noise. She finally found it when she reached the edge of her father's grave.

Two men, wearing matching looks of hatred on their faces were dueling to the death. She noticed that one of the men was her husband, and the other her childhood friend. "Erik!" Christine cried.

She had noticed that Erik looked to have the upper hand over Raoul, but was momentarily distracted by her call.

Raoul realized his distraction and took the opportunity to plunge his sword deep into Erik's chest. "Noooo!" she yelled. Running to her husband, she knelt down by his side and held his hand in hers. "Erik, please don't die. I need you! Our children need you!" Erik lolled his head back in pain and shut his beautiful eyes. When he opened them again, they were filledwith unshed tears. "Christine, Christine…"

"Christine! Christine! Mon ange, please wake up!" Christine opened her eyes slowly to find Erik kneeling next to her, holding her hand. Realizing that her husband was next to her in their bedroom, and not dying on the cold ground sent Christine into hysterics. She lunged forward at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

With a mixed look of amusement and wonder on his face, Erik pulled away from her. "My love, what ever is the matter?" Christine simply looked at him with tears streaming down her cheeks. "It is of no consequence now, darling. It was merely a nightmare which seemed frighteningly real."

He nodded, understanding that she didn't want to talk about it then, and helped her out of bed. "Erik has been awake for over an hour, and Rose is just waking up now." He reported. Christine nodded and smiled, thinking about the similarities between her husband and their 3-year-old son. Little Erik was like his father from his thick black hair and piercing green eyes, to his quiet intelligence, to his sleeping habits (for both father and son woke early in the morning).

Rose, however, was a lot like her mother. She had dark brown curls and was a happy little girl that was always content to sit down for hours and play with her toys. Little Erik, on the other hand, always had to be moving around the house and asking questions in an attempt to learn anything he could.

Finally reaching the dining area downstairs, she found the twins with Sophie, who was beginning to dish up the children's plates. Giving Sophie a look of appreciation, Christine quickly moved in to take over. After exchanging hugs, kisses and 'good morning's' with the children she finally began to distribute the food. Dishing up little Erik's plate first, she made it a point not to give him too much food. He was a very light eater, and hardly ate anything that was everput on his plate so as to not waste food, she simply didn't give him much. Rose, on the other hand, ate more than enough for both herself and her brother.

"Maman, may I have some more please?" Rose asked through a mouthful of food. Christine gave her a smile and scooped some more food onto her daughter's plate. If only she could get little Erik to eat half as much as Rose, she would be happy. "Erik, would you like some more?" Her son stared at his plate and shook his head. "No thank you maman." "Come on Erik. You have to eat more than that." With that comment she attempted to shovel a spoonful of food into his mouth, only he clenched his teeth so tightly that the food simply smeared on his face. Everyonein the roombroke out into laughterat the sight oflittle Erik with food covering his face. Finding that force feeding her son was pointless, Christine sighed and sat in her place next to Erik and dished up her own plate. Looking over at her husband, she noticed that he too had dished up very little food. She shook her head in amusement and began her meal, grateful that the morning antics had distracted her from her thoughts- if only for a while.

Although she tried not to, Christine thought a lot about her dream during breakfast. After the meal when Sophie took the children outside to play, she made it a point to visit Erik in the music room to tell him about her dream. As usual, he was sitting at the piano, only this time he wasn't playing- he was very deep in thought.

"Erik?" He turned quickly and plastered a fake smile on his face. She walked over to him and put her arms around his shoulders. "What's wrong mon ange?" He sighed and frowned slightly. "When I woke you this morning, you were talking to me, only in your dream. You asked me not to die and that you and the children needed me. What was the dream about Christine?"

Christine took a deep breath and repeated every terrifying detail that she could remember from her dream. By the end of the story, her head drooped and a tear slid down her cheek. Erik gathered her in his arms and pulled her onto his lap. "Don't worry my love. I am right here, and I will never leave you."

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I decided to continue with this story, although it is becoming difficult. I decided that I was going to change it a little bit. It will still be fluff, but it will have more drama, action and humor in it. (Only those of you with children or nieces and nephews can appreciate the humor from the finicky eating habits of little children. I know that seemed out of place in the story, but you never know, it might be important later...hahaha). Anyway, review and let me know what you think.-