Hey! Didn't I say I'd update again today? I guess it's a good thing, the ending of the last chapter kind of sucked. This chapter's a little short, but I think it's neat! Check it out!

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Christine burst through the doors of the hospital. "Raoul! Raoul!"

Madame Giry, Meg, Philippe, and Amarie were already sitting in the waiting room. Meg rushed to her friend and hugged her. Christine looked at the others. Madame Giry looked grave; Philippe sat with his face buried in his hands; Amarie nervously picked at the hem of her dress…

Finally, a doctor came into room. "I suppose you are all here for Messieurs de Chagney and Giry?" he asked.

Christine stepped forward. "Is Erik alright?" she asked, forcing calm into her voice.

"The man insisted that he needed no medical attention when he was brought here by an old farmer and his wife. However, upon further inspection we found that he had twisted his ankle rather badly, probably when he fell. Other than that, he is just fine."

"And… my fiancé?"

The doctor looked at the floor. "I'm sorry…"

Christine's knees gave out and she fell to the floor, sobbing. Meg knelt by her friend and rubbed her shoulders sympathetically, but Christine could not be comforted.

"No! No! Raoul!" she wailed.

"Christine!"

Christine raised her head in time to see Erik hobble into the room, leaning heavily on his cane. He reached out a hand, looking for her.

"Christine? Where are you?"

Christine stood up and slowly walked over to where Erik stood. Her cries had stopped. She looked completely passive. She stood there for what seemed like an eternity, staring at him.

"Christine…"

Christine drew back her hand and slapped him hard across his unmasked cheek. "You! How could you let this happen? How could you?"

"Christine, I–"

She beat her fists against his chest. "Is this what you wanted, you monster? Now you can have me all to yourself!"

Erik tried desperately to grab her wrists. "Christine! That's not what I wanted!"

"I HATE YOU!" Philippe, Madame Giry, and Meg did their best to subdue Christine. They pulled her away from Erik kicking and screaming until she fell, a crumpled mess, to the floor again, screaming and crying in anguish.

Erik felt tears pricking at his own eyes. He turned out of the room and limped away. His presence would only upset Christine. Alone again, he stopped only to ask a passing nurse to direct him to an alternate exit. After she gave him the directions, he made his way out of the building as quickly as he could go, into the cool air. He felt warmth on his cheek, still sore from where Christine had slapped him. The sun was rising, he knew. It had been a long night.

Suddenly, he felt a small hand tugging on his cloak. "Amarie? Is that you?"

"It's me, Erik." She took his hand and led him over to a wooden bench, where she helped him sit. "Do you want to talk, Erik?"

"Not particularly…"

"I'm your friend, Erik. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

Erik sighed. "I know that, Amie, but there are some things I think you are too young to know."

"I am not a little girl!" Amarie said indignantly. "I know a lot of things! You'd be surprised! For instance, I know just how it feels to lose someone you're close to."

"The Vicomte and I were hardly close…"

"If that is true, then why do you look so upset?"

"Because… because of Christine… She is in so much pain… and she thinks it's my fault!"

"Erik, it's not your fault…"

"Yes, Amarie, it is my fault! If I had just been still! If I had not attacked that man! If I hadn't… if I hadn't tried to be a hero, all the Vicomte would have lost is few sous. But now he's dead, and it's because of me! It's my fault!"

Tears were flowing freely from Erik now. He put his face in his hands and cried. Amarie put one arm around his shoulders, while letting her other hand reach up and pat his back comfortingly. They sat like that for a long time, until Erik had used up his supply of tears. Then Amarie took his hand and began to lead him back to the theatre.

"Everything will be alright, Erik," Amarie told him. "Just you wait and see. I promise everything will be alright."

Amarie comforted him the way his mother should have. The next several days were hard on Erik. He was plagued with recurring nightmares of the moment when the Vicomte died. He wasn't sleeping well, nor was he eating very much. Add the gruelling rehearsal schedule on top of that, and Erik became very sick by the end of the week. Amarie was the only one who stayed by his side and helped him regain his health. She restored a small measure of joy to his world.

AndErik finally came to terms with his true feelings for her…

He loved Amarie.

Not as he loved Christine, of course. No, this was a different sort of love. A love that is shared only between very special friends… a love that accompanies a bond deeper than mere sentiment. Erik was sure that, if he had had a daughter, he would want her to be something like Amarie.

She was, after all, his Angel in Disguise...

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OK, that's it... That's the end of my story...

Just kidding! We've still got several chapters to go!

Awww... I think (sniff) I really wanna... (sniff) have a good... (sniff) cry! Wah! That's so sad! Christine, in the midst of her grief, blames Erik for Raoul's death and now little Amarie is the only one who will look after the poor man!

And shall I make it clear? You know, just in case you didn't catch that last paragraph?

I haven't paired Erik with Amarie!

It's a fatherly love, sort of thing. I think it's cute, really. An E/OW story in this case would be just too weird, eh? What, with the whole glaring age-difference and all.

My Erik is not a pervert!

So anyway, review these last two chapters, and I shall make my next update very interesting...

Well... I guess I was going to make it interesting regardless...

OK, I'm shutting up now...