OK, I got scorched for killing off Amarie... Bring on the flame-throwers!

At least you were all honest...

But at least there's one person who's happy that Christine is back in the picture!

Just this chapter and an epilogue left... No!

Enjoy...

XxXxX

Erik let the corpse drop to the floor, his hunger satiated. He replaced his mask on his face and turned to Christine. "Let's go." He held out a hand to her, which she took. He noticed that she was trembling. "Don't be afraid," he said in a reassuring voice. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Christine and Erik returned to the stage, where paramedics were already lifting Amarie's body onto a stretcher. The theatre was empty, save for police officers and a few cast members. Lachappelle had gone into hysterics over his daughter's body, and so had to be removed from the theatre.

"What's happening?" Erik asked Christine.

"Almost everyone is gone," she told him. "The police are here. They're taking… they're taking Amarie away…"

"Wait!" Erik said, striding over to where he had left Amarie. The paramedics looked up at Erik with an inquiring gaze. "I want to… I want to see her…"

"Erik," Christine started, but the pleading look in his blind eyes silenced her. She nodded at the paramedics, who immediately stepped back.

Erik knelt beside Amarie. Reaching out, he touched her face. He traced her round cheeks with his fingers… low, sloping forehead, perfect nose, small jaw, soft lips…

"What colour is her hair?" he asked.

"Red," Christine replied. "Like a sunset."

"Like a rose," Erik murmured, dedicating her delicate features to his memory. Her skin was warm beneath his fingers, still untouched by death's cold hand. "What about her eyes?"

"Green."

Erik removed his hand from her face. He knelt there quietly for what seemed like an hour, picturing her face in his mind. Finally, he spoke. "She's beautiful…"

"Yes, Erik. She was beautiful…"

He reached out and touched her throat, felt the chain that was still there. She still had his ring. She had kept it safe, just like she promised him. With a slow, sad sigh, he removed the chain from her neck and held it in his hand. After a moment, he placed the chain around his own neck once more. He reached out and found one small, limp hand. He held it, recalling the first day he had touched that hand. She had been the annoying little girl back then. Now his heart was breaking knowing that he would never feel her hand in his again.

"Who will be there for me now?" he asked, half to himself, half to Amarie.

Christine placed her hand on his shoulder. "I'm here, Erik." She paused, looking into Amarie's face. "Erik… she's smiling."

Erik held her hand a moment longer before replacing it on her chest.

"Well done, angel…"

XxXxX

Erik was a wreck at Amarie's funeral. He left a single red rose by her headstone, sinking to the ground and weeping. When the affair was over, Christine led him to her carriage. It was time to return to Paris. La Soleil Rouge had closed its doors, and Madame Giry had graciously opened her home to Erik and Christine. Erik had nowhere to go, and after Raoul had died, Christine was also in need of a home. So the two lived together with Madame Giry, as they both tried to recover from their losses.

Erik fell into a deep depression. Often he woke up in the middle of the night screaming. Other days he thought he was still at La Soleil Rouge and would become quite confused and distressed when he found himself in unfamiliar surroundings. But most often he was very sick, vomiting up whatever Madame Giry convinced him to eat and tossing in his bed with a violent fever.

One night, Christine lay wide-awake in bed, unable to fall asleep. She noticed that, for the first time in weeks, all was silent in Erik's room. Almost too silent…

She decided to slip on her dressing robe and check up on him. Tip-toeing down the hall, she made her way to Erik's room and opened the door.

"Erik? Are you alright?"

Her heart nearly stopped when she saw him, standing in the middle of the room, putting his Punjab lasso over his own head.

"Erik! Stop!" Christine raced over to him and tore the noose from his neck. As she did so, he fell to the floor, sobbing.

"Amarie! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Erik! What are you talking about?"

Erik didn't even seem to realize that Christine was there. "It's my fault she's dead! It's my fault the Vicomte's dead! It's all my fault! I deserve nothing less than the fires of Hell!"

"Don't say that, Erik!" Christine cried as she knelt beside him. "It's not your fault! You tried to save her! It's not your fault Raoul died, either. It just happened… you didn't mean for it…"

Erik raised his head, as if realizing she was there for the first time. "Christine? She's gone, Christine… She's really gone! Oh, God! How can I live without her? She's the only friend I ever had, and she's gone!"

"Hush, Erik," Christine whispered as she pulled him close, allowing his head to rest on her shoulder.

"I… I keep trying to tell myself that… she's in a better place…"

Christine stroked his bare back, lightly running her fingers up his spine. She raised his face, and then firmly pressed her lips against his.

Erik drew back, surprised by the sudden feeling of her soft lips against his, but then slowing leaned in closer, deepening their embrace. He hesitantly raised a hand to caress her cheek.

Christine broke the embrace momentarily and looked into his unseeing eyes. "Erik… I came to the theatre that night to tell you I was sorry for what I said to you about Raoul… I didn't mean it… I was just so… numb… I want to be with you, Erik. I want this." She pulled him closer, and he leaned down to savour the pleasures of her sweet mouth once again.

His hands began to move around her, exploring her body through the thin material of her dressing gown. He aroused her as his mouth searched her, using both his teeth and his tongue, tantalizing her without mercy. She moaned softly as his hands found their way into her dressing gown, caressing the sensitized flesh.

They shared their love that night. When they were finished he gathered her into his arms with infinite gentleness, stroking her naked skin as he sang her to sleep. Before Erik joined her insleep, he lay awake for a while, certain that this all must be a dream, for what angel would ever surrender her innocence to a monster? At least his dream was pleasant and peaceful, not like the terrible nightmares he had been having for the past several weeks…

But when Erik awoke, much to his surprise, a small warm body was curled up in his embrace, with the smell of vanilla and lavender permeating his senses as he buried his face into her long, curly hair.

XxXxX

Well... Not as breath-taking as the last couple of chapters... But at least Erik and Christine are back together! Yay, E/C!

I suppose you're all rather bitter still because I killed Amarie...

Well... Just wait until the next chapter... (sniff) The very last chapter...

Review, please! And if some of you still feel like flaming me for killing Amarie... What the heck! Go ahead!

Just review!