Demons of the Past

Ch. 8 Let the Dream Begin

Author's note: My brother Alan once again provided the lyrics to Erik's Lullaby; this time, however, they are entirely his. Hope you like! And please…help his ego a bit. If you like it, let me know!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera. I especially do not own the movie. And I most definitely do not own that creepy giggle that Raoul does in 'Little Lotte'…maybe it's just me and I have listened to the soundtrack too many times…

And now, on with the story…

His feet had taken him away from Christine; away from her pleading voice and swollen eyes. He found himself back in his old home; his old domain. Erik had not been back to his lair since he had left that dark night with Christine. It had not been so long ago…Erik would have most likely been at his pipe organ; or maybe he would have been drawing or painting. Or maybe he wouldn't have even been in his lair; perhaps he would have been watching Christine perform, or seeing to his various business arrangements in the Opera House. Had his old life really been that bad? Had his self imposed exile been that unbearable? Erik laughed softly at himself. Of course it had been. It had been horrible; to live in such a way that you were constantly in contact with a world that you could never touch! And how he had so desperately wanted to…Erik could see himself, performing in front of a full house, his deep, melodic voice hypnotizing all that heard. He would have loved to be among the living instead of the dead.

As Erik glanced about, he realized that this place did not remotely resemble his lost home. He had moved on. Erik realized, with a jolt, that he had accepted his years here. He had had so much pain and anguish; but he had found so much love and compassion as well. Had he expected to find solace here, amongst old memories? He found no comfort being here; only emptiness. There were no feelings left in Erik. He was cold; he was numb.

Numb. When had he become so numb? Had it always been this way? Had he always been so detached? Erik kept everyone at arm's length; in his own way he felt that he could protect the people he cared about better if they could not see his black soul. But then again, how many people in his life did he truly care for? How many people had come close to seeing him in the light? Erik cared for Marie, but she had never touched his spirit as Christine had. Christine was the only one who had seen him as he truly was and not flinched away at the horrendous sight. And Erik wasn't simply talking about his appearance. It's in your soul, where the true distortion lies…

Erik looked into a broken mirror. The image that greeted him was one of a man, simply dressed, and concealing himself behind a dark mask. Erik's mask hid more than his face…it hid the imperfections in his soul. Erik did not miss the irony of having a deformity on one side of his face only; his left side was handsome and perfect, and his right one hideous and flawed: a metaphor for the conflict within him. Erik reasoned that most people had darkness born within them; he was just unlucky enough to be born with his darkness in plain view to those around him. Erik calmly removed the mask from his face. His reflection returned to him indistinct and broken. Erik did not rage at what he saw there; he simply saw the same thing that he had seen as a child: a monster. A monster stared back at him that could not accept love and happiness; a monster who had almost lost everything for its own foolish pride.

Erik looked at his reflection until he could bear it no longer. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the first time that Christine had entered his strange, mystical world; the night he had brought her to his dungeon. He knew that she was in shock over seeing her Angel of Music as a tangible man; nevertheless Erik would always remember her eyes as he sang to her of the Music of the Night. Her sparkling brown eyes had been wide and adoring; he had shaped and molded his voice to flow over every part of Christine. His sweet song was not one of seduction. Erik's intentions had been purer than that. He had wanted her love. Erik truly thought that Christine would love him for his voice and nothing else; and at the time, he would have accepted that. But Christine proved more than that. As she did time after time.

The Music of the Night. Erik had thought that it had died the moment that Christine's lips had touched his in the kiss that had changed his life; it was the moment that he realized that he could never truly have her. Her heart and soul belonged to the music that he had cherished for so long. But Christine had made him see. Christine understood him better than he knew himself.

Erik circled his former lair. This was not his home anymore. Not even the little cottage outside of Paris was his home. His home was wherever Christine was.

Should I seek out my mother? Erik pondered this question intently. Christine had suggested that the key to his past might lie with his mother. Could he stand to see her? Oddly, Erik's mind did not fill with the poison of anger and hatred; for once, Erik saw the wisdom in trying to confront his darkest past. He could gain closure; he could close a part of his mind that hid the madness. Or would he simply kill his mother on first sight? Erik sighed. He truly didn't know the answer. Perhaps he could get answers, and then kill her. That seemed more logically…but at the same time, Erik was tired of the blood that stained his hands. One more death would merely scar him more. Erik took no comfort in scars, both physical and mental. Scars reminded Erik that the past was all too real; and it was a haunting reminder.

Erik made his way back to the secret passageways that he thought he would never haunt again. His mind was set. Erik would find himself; and in doing so he would finally be allowed to put his atrocious past behind him. He would put his mother behind him, he would put the gypsies behind him, and once and for all, he would put the Phantom behind him. He would be clear and untainted, just like Christine.

Erik let his mind wander towards his unborn child. He so desperately wanted a life that he could be proud of, with no secrets, simply so that he could completely love the child that he and Christine had created. And he would accomplish his goals. Erik felt a ghost of a smile slip onto his face. He had never before failed in a goal he had set for himself; and for once, Erik's intentions were entirely pure.

He exited the passageway at the stables, striding toward his horse with more confidence than he felt. Erik did not know where his path would take him. He knew that everything was understood by Stefan; Erik had put his and Christine's affairs in order before he had ever returned to his lair. Stefan and Madam Giry would watch after Christine…he had no doubts. Erik did not like the feeling of being spontaneous; he liked things to be well planned in advance, with no mysteries or unknowns. Right now, the only thing that Erik knew for sure was that his journey would take him away from Christine. But by leaving Christine, I will be able to give her the life that she deserves. The husband that she deserves. Erik felt his heart swell with new found assurance, and he made up his mind on his first destination. Erik would return to his cottage and gather his thoughts; he would make his plans carefully. But he knew one thing:

Erik would find his mother. And Erik would get the answers he sought…and damn anyone to the deepest pits of Hell who tried to stop him!

I am late! How did I let this happen? Madam Giry's thoughts were frantic as she made her way to her manager's office. Stefan Javere had requested her presence at a meeting that began ten minutes ago. She walked as fast as she could, arriving slightly out of breath before M. Javere's office. Well, maybe a lot out of breath: Madam Giry clung to the door frame as if she were about to fall, trying in vain to catch her breath. She recovered somewhat, and knocked to announce herself.

"Ah, Madam Giry! I have been expecting you," Javere said as Madam Giry opened the door. He rose from his desk chair and offered a bow in greeting.

"Monsieur, please excuse my tardiness; I simply let time escape me for a moment." Madam Giry curtsied, and gratefully sat in a chair opposite Javere.

"Not at all, Madam. You have been working to hard, I fear. In fact, that is the reason for this meeting."

Madam Giry looked up in alarm. "Are you not pleased with the dancers, Monsieur? Is there something wrong with the ballet choreography?"

Javere smiled. "No, nothing of the sort! Erik informs me that your eye for dance is impeccable; he trusts you completely with the performance of his work; as do I. It occurs to me, however, that the ballet is almost complete, and we have three months yet of rehearsals before the actual show. I fear that your pace with the dancers is much too fast."

Now it was Madam Giry's turn to smile. "Believe me, Monsieur, that is a good thing! It means that my dancers will have now 'til gala night to make sure that their steps are perfect!"

"Well, just don't exhaust the dancers, Madam…or yourself. Remember to breath every once in a while." Javere eyes twinkled. Madam Giry blushed.

"Of course, Monsieur. Is that all?"

"Well, there is one more thing, but it is on a more personal level. You are a family friend to Erik Massenet, correct?"

Madam Giry looked at Javere in confusion. Why would he be asking her about Erik? "Of course, Monsieur, I consider him and Christine as family."

Javere stood from behind his desk, and walked toward the door, his hands settling to the small of his back. "I had a rather disturbing talk with him earlier today. He said that he had pressing business to attend to elsewhere, and would be unable to return for months; he could not give me a projected time of his return. I know I have only known Erik for a short time, but he acted very reluctantly and anxiously…and he made me give my word to allow his wife to stay here, if she so desired. It is such an odd request! Do you know anything about this, Madam? Madam?"

Madam Giry had turned white. She glanced at M. Javere, and shook her head slightly. "I was unaware that Erik had plans to leave Paris. And you say that he has been here today, Monsieur? Is Christine also here?"

Javere thought for a moment and then nodded. "Madam Massenet is here, Madam Giry. I saw her earlier today with the Vicomte de Chagny. I do believe that they know each other; they were very friendly towards one another."

Madam Giry had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. What had happened? She knew that since Erik was now married their relationship had changed a bit, but for him to leave without a word to her, not even goodbye? It had never happened before. Something was wrong, and Madam Giry was determined to not only discover the disturbance, but to also try and correct whatever had gone wrong. And with Erik, she thought scathingly, the possibilities of what could go wrong were endless.

Practice had just ended for Meg Giry. She was walking down the corridors of the Opera House, heading back to her room. She walked past the chapel and paused. Was that a voice? Meg peered into the chapel, and was delighted to see Christine. She was kneeled before two lit candles; Christine prayed diligently under her breath. Meg came forward as quietly as she could, but Christine still heard her approach. Christine turned, and gave her best friend a small smile in greeting.

"Christine! What are you doing here? Is Erik with you?" At Erik's name Christine winced visibly. Meg could see the build up of tears in her friend's eyes. She reached forward and gripped Christine's shoulder.

"Christine? What's wrong?"

"I sent Erik away…I told him to leave…" Christine voice was barely a whisper in the silence. Meg stared in disbelief.

"You sent him away? And he actually left you? Christine, what in God's name is going on? Why would Erik leave you?" Meg pressed Christine gently into a comforting embrace, and Christine closed her eyes in gratitude. Meg smoothed her hair, murmuring words of comfort and care, until Christine pulled away.

"It's a long story, Meg, but it started when I told him I was pregnant…"

Meg took Christine straight to her room. She was trying to absorb all that her friend had told her. Meg was worried about Christine's and Erik's marriage, but what concerned her more was Christine's uneasiness about her unborn child. Christine kept insisting that she knew something was wrong; she didn't feel well, she was weak and dizzy all the time, she hadn't been able to eat much without vomiting. Meg tried to reassure her that all of her symptoms were normal at the beginning of a pregnancy. Christine just smiled and asked Meg how many babies she had birthed Christine was not turned by any of Meg's optimistic thoughts, and so Meg went in search of her mother. Mother will surely be able to calm Christine's nerves, she thought. Oh, what a mess this is! Meg's thoughts turned sharply to Erik.

Meg was furious at Erik. How could he have said those things to Christine? Christine had given up everything for his love; and his repayment was to abandon her, alone and with child…how could Erik not accept his own child? Meg hoped she didn't see him for a while…otherwise he would know the wrath of Little Meg! No one messed with her best friend…

"Excuse, Monsieur," Meg stopped a random stage hand that was walking by. "Have you seen Madam Giry? I have looked everywhere."

The stage hand smiled as he looked her over. His eyes automatically wandered to about mid level…Meg repressed the snarl from her lips, hoping that this man could be civil for five more minutes, but she could not suppress her scathing tongue. "Excuse me, Monsieur, but is the answer to my question written on my breasts? Were you just checking?"

The stage hand had the decency to blush, and he stammered out that he knew that Madam Giry was in a meeting with Manager Javere. Meg thanked him for the information courteously, and she headed toward Javere's office. Half way there, she found her mother in an almost dead run. Meg reached for her mother, trying to calm her down.

"Whoa, what's wrong? Calm down, Mother, I fear that you will give yourself a heart attack…"

Madam Giry looked at her daughter, her face red from her effort. "I have just learned that Erik is planning to leave for a long period of time! And he intends to leave Christine here at the Opera House! I must find Christine! I have to know what's going on."

"Mother, Christine is in my room. I have spoken with her, and she's fine. She even has some special news that I am sure that she will want to tell you in person." Meg shifted slightly on her feet, not wanting to spread Christine's news without permission. Her mother shot her a look that said 'I'm not buying that for a minute you had better tell me now!'. It was amazing what her mother could convey with a single look.

Meg lowered her voice. "She's pregnant, Mother. And she's terrified."

Madam Giry leaned heavily against the wall. So this was the problem. She had feared this.

"And what of Erik? Why is he leaving?"

Meg looked at her mother with sad eyes. "He wouldn't accept the baby…he found Christine yesterday collapsed in the garden. It was storming, and Christine remembers nothing but waking up to find Erik there with her, soaking wet. She had figured out her condition earlier in the day, and she told Erik."

Madam Giry nodded for her to continue. "And then?"

"He exploded. Erik told Christine that he could never accept a child that might endanger her life. I…Erik is so worried for Christine's life that he doesn't see how happy she is to be carrying his child. He left in the night, and didn't come back. Christine felt strange the next morning; she feels that something is wrong with her pregnancy. She seeks your advise, Mother. But before she could find you, Raoul found her…"

Madam Giry closed her eyes. "Don't continue. I can piece it together from there. Erik saw Christine and Raoul together and thought the worse. Did he abandon Christine?"

Meg shook her head slightly. "No, Mother. Christine sent him away."

Madam Giry touched her hand to her face in shock. "What? What do you mean?"

Meg just looked at her hands. "Christine told Erik that for their marriage to be able to continue he must decide what he truly wants out of life. Erik must confront the demons of his past before they become the demons that plague his present happiness. He has gone in search of his mother, from what I understand."

Silence followed Meg's last statement. Madam Giry did not know what to think. What a mess! She looked at her daughter and gave her an encouraging smile.

"Take me to Christine. I daresay that we will have our family together again, at least for a little while."

Madam Giry now found herself on the way to Christine's house. She had insisted on going and retrieving some of Christine's things for her. Madam Giry was not too overly concerned with Christine's discomfort in her early stages of pregnancy. She had sent for a doctor, just to be safe. Madam Giry rode alone in the coach of the carriage. This time when she had called for a driver, she had made sure that the man would help her with the luggage. Madam Giry leaned a bit from the window, looking for any signs at all that Erik might have returned home before starting on his trip. Half of her wanted to see him, to make sure that everything was all right…and half of her didn't want to see him at all, for fear that she would throttle him before she could stop herself. Madam Giry felt the carriage stop, and she casually opened the door to let herself out.

"Monsieur, if you please, I will be but a moment. I will call you when I need your assistance."

The driver nodded pleasantly, and Madam Giry walked forward to the house. As soon as she opened the door, she heard the most beautiful music that she had ever heard. She smiled a little to herself; Well, now I know that Erik is home. Madam Giry approached the music room. She heard the music stop every once in a while, and the scratch of a quill take its place. The door to the music room was closed. Madam Giry hesitantly reached for the doorknob; then, with resolve, she opened the door to reveal: chaos. Chaos was all around her in the form of a terribly destroyed room, and Erik was sitting directly in the middle of the chaos with his violin. He took no notice of her; he merely continued to write something down on the paper in front of him. Finally looking satisfied, he pulled his violin to his chin and played.

The music was soothing and soft, but with a hint of darkness hidden within. It was…haunting, in a way. The hairs on the back of Madam Giry's neck stood straight up. Erik, once again, seemed lost in his own world. Suddenly, Erik's own voice rose to match the beautiful melody of his violin.

As night falls,
You hear a call,
A voice whispering to you.
But have no fear
Because I am here
Always and forever true.

Sweet Angel, don't cry,
I'll always try
To keep you from harm.
Don't fear the dark
My beautiful lark,
There's no cause for alarm.

Angel Child
So sweet and mild
My Love will always be with you.
Though I am away
I'll always stay
With you, there inside you.

You are my gift to the world,
A pure and honest thing hurled
Into the wilds of the Earth.
I think of you,
So beautiful, so new
The wonder of your birth.

Angel Child
So sweet and mild
My Love will always be with you.
Though I am away
I'll always stay
With you, there inside you.

I see you there,
Without a care,
Watching the World go by…
My sweet child,
So gentle and mild
Listen to my lullaby.

Erik stopped, filling the air with silence. He paused before setting his violin to the floor. He rose to his feet and walked toward Madam Giry. Tears were rolling down her face. Erik reached and touched her shoulder, and Madam Giry tugged him into a tight embrace. Without a word, Erik left the room.

Madam Giry had never heard a more angelic song in all her years working at the Opera House. Erik's music spoke with a voice that seemed to whisper the passion, the love, the wonderment of creating a new life…Erik truly wanted his child. Madam Giry's tears of beauty turned to tears of relief. Erik would not abandon Christine; Madam Giry felt silly to even consider the thought. Madam Giry went upstairs and packed all the things that she felt Christine might need. When she returned downstairs, she noticed a white letter lying on the floor next to the door. She picked the letter up and inspected it. It read, in a familiar flowing script, simply Christine. Madam Giry dutifully tucked the note into her dress. She had always been the one to deliver Erik's letters; and Madam Giry had no doubt that this letter would be the most pleasant to give.

Christine looked about her old bedroom, memories overflowing her mind. Meg gently pushed her forward into the bed.

"Christine, the doctor will be here shortly to see you. Do you want me to stay?"

Christine nodded firmly. Meg grabbed a chair from across the room and pulled it toward the bed. Meg sat, then frowned. Christine glanced at her friend in amusement. Meg was obviously battling herself over something she wanted to say; Christine had seen the look before. Meg nodded to herself and reached for Christine's hand.

"My friend, I will not pry. I promise you. But there is one thing I must know…do you still love Erik, after all that has happened?"

Christine pulled her hand away sharply. "What kind of question is that! How dare you ask me such a thing! Of course I still love my husband! I love Erik with all my heart and soul. Without him, there is no me. He goes with my love, at my bidding, and he knows this! My heart will remain broken until the moment that he returns to me. And, God knows, when he returns, we will be a family. I know it."

Meg looked at Christine's eyes, so full of hope and fire. She nodded. "I am sorry, my friend. I just don't want Erik to hurt you."

Christine's eyes softened at once. "I know, Meg. I'm sorry that I yelled. It's just that so much has happen over such a short period of time. Just think, this time a week ago, I didn't even know I was pregnant."

There was a gasp that came from neither Meg nor Christine. They looked up in alarm at the source of the sound, and discovered Raoul standing in the doorway. He had clearly heard Christine. Meg rose angrily from her chair.

"Vicomte, you go too far! How dare you enter a lady's room without knocking?" Meg physically put herself between Christine and Raoul. Raoul seemed not to notice Meg.

"Is it true, Christine? You are carrying…his child?" Christine regarded Raoul coolly.

"It is no business of yours, Monsieur. I am a married woman…"

"He left you! I saw your argument! What kind of man would abandon his wife when she is with child? Oh, I'm sorry, I keep forgetting…your husband is hardly a man."

"How dare you speak about my husband! He is more of a man than you!" Raoul's face turned bright red, and he pushed Meg to the side. He came toward Christine, and leaned down at her ear. His words were soft, but betrayed none of the anger that was whirling within him.

"I knew this would not last. I knew you would regret your choice. Was it even your own choice, Christine? Or was it the Phantom 'inside your mind'? You said yourself that he had a power over you, my dear. You are a prize to him, and nothing more. I could have made you so happy, Christine. I can still make you happy. He cares for you, I know…but he is not here, when you need him the most. But I am, Christine, and I always will be. Please, use this as your chance to escape. Use this as your chance to be free of that self-pitying monster."

Christine paled visibly. Meg came to Raoul's side, and forced him by the shoulder to move away from Christine. Raoul looked at Meg sharply.

"Do not try to lead me as you would a horse, Mademoiselle. I am no beast."

"Oh, but you are certainly acting like one!" Meg retorted. She was about to say more when Christine murmured, "Meg."

Meg glanced at Christine, and her eyes went wide. Christine was shaking uncontrollably. Meg rushed forward, and pressed her hand against Christine's forehead. She snatched her hand back. Fever. The fear was evident in Meg's voice.

"Vicomte, please, go and fetch the doctor. Go now!" With a look at Christine, a look that showed shame and concern, Raoul ran from the room. Meg sat in her chair be the bed, holding Christine's hand. Christine began to whimper.

"I'm so hot, Meg…so very hot."

"I'm going to go and get a basin of water. I'll be right back, my friend."

Meg darted out of the room. She nearly collided with a very harassed looking doctor, with Raoul tailing.

"Monsieur Vicomte, I was on my way to see Madam Massenet anyway! Please, stop this foolishness!" Raoul seemed to be in his element.

"Doctor, if you do not get your pompous ass into that room and see about Christine, I will make sure that the only patients you will see again will be sewer rats!"

The doctor paled a bit and entered the room. He set his bag on the desk, and began his inspection.

"Vicomte, please wait outside until the inspection is over." Raoul crimsoned slightly, and nodded. Once Raoul was gone, the doctor carefully took off Christine's corset to examine her stomach.

"She is with child…" the doctor murmured to himself. "Looks to be about eight weeks along…but she should be bigger than this."

Meg, who had resumed her position of holding Christine's hand, exchanged a look of panic with Christine. "What do you mean, Monsieur doctor?"

The doctor chuckled. "Please, ladies, it is nothing too serious. Madam Massenet, your body simply is not developing as it should. This could be your young age, or simply because you have not been eating enough. I suspect it is the latter. How long have you been sick, Madam?"

Christine thought for a moment. "I don't remember, Sir. But it does seem ages ago since I have been able to keep down food."

The doctor tutted a moment, then continued his inspection. "Madam, it seems that you have caught a virus. That coupled with your morning sickness has made you rather ill. I will prescribe some medicine that should help you keep some food down. You need to eat, Madam, or your baby will not be healthy. You are the only nourishment it can get. You should stay in bed for at least two weeks. In that time, I will return to check on you, and hopefully you will have rounded out nicely by then. If you need anything, you can always reach me through my office. Take care of yourself, Madam Massenet."

With a comforting smile, the doctor left the room. The door had not been thoroughly shut when Raoul burst through.

"What's wrong! Is everything all right? Is it life threatening? Oh, Christine…" Raoul came forward to Christine and tried to embrace her. She pushed him away.

"Raoul, I have offered you my friendship. I know that is not what you wanted, but that is all I have to give you. I want nothing more. Don't ever criticize Erik again. I love him; he is my husband. I will protect his honor if I have to."

Raoul looked at Christine sadly. "What can I do to prove to you that his love is false? What can I do to show you that he is a monster?"

Christine did not have the strength to answer. Sleep was rapidly coming to her. Christine heard the door open, and Madam Giry walked in. She eyed Raoul in surprise, then turned to Christine.

"My dear, I have a note…"

Raoul groaned. "Oh, God in Heaven, you and your notes! Do you enjoy being the only one in the whole Opera House to know what is going on?"

Madam Giry opened her mouth to retort, but was cut off by Christine.

"I think that is enough, Raoul. I think it's best if you left." Christine eyes burned in anger at the way Raoul had spoken to her, Madam Giry, and Erik.

"I will leave…for now. I will be there, Christine, waiting for you to come to your senses." Raoul turned and swiftly left the room. Christine sighed, releasing the breath that she hadn't realized that she had been holding.

"What's this about a note?"

Madam Giry pulled out the letter. Christine immediately recognized the scrawl as that of Erik's. She turned the letter over, admiring the seal. Erik had changed his seal from that of a skull to that of a rose; his trademark. Christine carefully broke the seal and found another letter within the letter. She read the outside of the envelope.

Sing for me…

Christine sighed. She would only sing for him…he knew that all ready. She turned the letter over, to finally reach the inside. There was more writing.

As I live for you…

Christine felt the tears start to swell. She loved him so much that she thought her heart would burst from it. Nothing else in this letter could increase her happiness or her sadness. Christine pulled out the contents of the letter. She gasped. She had been wrong. It was a song…a song to their child. It was simply entitled, "Angel Child". Tears glistened in her eyes as she imagined her Erik singing to their child. She looked over the music, and began to sing in her clear, strong soprano.

Madam Giry and Meg watched Christine, feeling as though they were intruding upon a moment that should be kept private. Christine, as always, could somehow feel Erik beside her, guiding her voice, guiding her spirit. She finished, and fell back against the pillows, exhausted. As the darkness of sleep descended upon her, she remembered Erik's words.

Talk to me in your dreams, as you use to do.

Christine smiled to herself as the dream descended. They could never be truly parted. They always had their dreams…

A side note: I post this chapter against my better judgment; I don't have chapter 9 written yet. But there happens to be a tropical storm that is suppose to strengthen to a hurricane swirling in the Gulf of Mexico, and guess where the point of entry is suppose to be? Any guesses? I'M GONNA DIE! Naw, seriously, I don't know how long my power and stuff will be out this time, so I'm gonna post. It may be a little while for the next one, being as I haven't written it and I have to deal with this storm. If Erik and Christine have a girl, I will most definitely NOT be naming her Arlene. Thanks everyone, and please review!