Demons of the Past
Ch. 20: An Angel's Protector
Author's note: Well, this is it. The last chapter. I have to say that I am super sad to see my story come to a close…but I have to say that I never dreamed I would write so much! Over a hundred thousand words…and over one hundred reviews! Everyone has been so supportive of this fic, and I thank you so very much for your input-from the paragraph long responses to the one liners, every review that I received made my day. I dedicate this chapter to everyone that has truly enjoyed reading this fic, as I have truly enjoyed writing it. For those that may want to know what's up next, I intend on writing another Phantom of the Opera fic, but it will be set in Modern Day. I know that's a turn off for some people, but I urge you to give it a shot if you liked this story. I don't know when I will post next; I just have a concept and some basic research done now for the new fic. Just keep an eye out for me, my friends…and thanks for sticking with me.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera...although I did steal Erik's Red Death mask as a souvenir of the story…OH! Not a good idea! (Erik chases me around with the old reliable Punjab) Hey! Cut that out…you can't use that 'til later in the story…
And now, on with the finale…
(Two weeks after the events of Bal Masque)
Erik felt the undeniable pressure of a hundred problems pressing against his burning head. He sat in a crimson covered chair in the auditorium, his head in his hands. The new production at the Opera Populaire was an old favorite: Hannibal. That should make things simple, right? Erik could imagine the very veins of his body were pulsating from the pain of dealing with incompetent people: actors, singers, dancers, musicians, stage hands…the list went on and on. Erik's responsibilities demanded that he remain at the Opera House until all knots were removed from the coil of rope that should have been a working production…and that led to another stressful problem. He was never home. Christine stayed behind with the twins and Brian, rarely gracing the Opera House with her presence. Erik hated being away from her…but when he returned home from his day dealing with insolent, arrogant actors, all Erik wanted to do was crawl into bed. Christine was not much better; the twins occupied her hands at all times…not to mention that Brian was a handful in himself. She was as tired as he was at the end of the day. Erik missed the gentle touch of his wife…missed how she whispered his name in the night. He removed his hands from his face and dug his long fingers painfully into his own wrists. Erik relished in the release the small amount of pain gave him; it was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. How had he allowed himself to drift away from the love of his life? It had started not long after the twins were born…there was simply no time! Erik shook his head to himself. That was no excuse…he had promised to be there for her…and he had not been. He tried…but trying was something he did not believe in. You either do, or you do not. Erik glanced at his pocket watch, noting the time was just after five p.m. He lifted himself from his chair resolutely and began to walk toward the stage.
"Elisabeth?"
She looked up as he called her name. Elisabeth had not spoken with her brother for quite a while; he wasn't avoiding her, per say, but he would only speak to her on stage to correct her and issue more instructions on her part. She was playing the coveted role of Elissa, and she was proud to follow in Christine's footsteps. Elisabeth looked at her brother critically, noting the worry lines etched on the part of his forehead that she could see. His eyes were dull and lifeless, and he moved as if directed by a puppet master. Elisabeth knew that the events of Bal Masque had hurt him deeply…but something else was weighing upon him.
"Yes, brother?" Elisabeth responded as Erik climbed onto the stage and sat on the edge. Elisabeth joined him, her long legs folded underneath her skirts. Erik looked her over for a minute, then, seemingly satisfied, turned away to stare at the cleaning ladies in the auditorium.
"You are doing wonderfully in your role, Elisabeth…I just wanted to remind you that you must practice that stanza in 'Think of Me'. You must be perfectly confident, my dear…make it your own." Elisabeth reached up and smoothed a loose piece of black hair from her brother's face.
"What is troubling you so, Erik? You are so very tense…care to talk about it?" Erik pulled stiffly away from her touch.
"Not particularly…I do wonder if you have had anymore contact with your stepfather…you have not seen him about the Opera House, have you?" Elisabeth was not surprised that Erik didn't want to speak of his problems…but his question puzzled her.
"I would have come to you at the first indication of his presence, Erik…surely you know that?"
Erik sighed. "I do not mean to imply otherwise…it has been two weeks since his appearance, Elisabeth, and not a word or whisper about his whereabouts. I had expected more from him."
Elisabeth shrugged. "Nathan is an easily frightened man, Erik…perhaps you scared him off with your threat."
"No," Erik said, the word thick with finality, "I know that he would not give up so easily…Elisabeth, he traveled all the way from Calais to find you! You said yourself that he has promised you to some Baron…why would he not attempt your abduction for a second time? I do not aim to tempt fate…it is merely puzzling."
Elisabeth bowed her head. "Christine knows the name of the Baron that Nathan sold me to."
Silence met this statement as Erik pondered what she meant. How could Christine know anything about this? "What do you mean?"
Elisabeth shifted slightly in her position on the stage. "She had a strange dream when she was unconscious after the twins were born…a dream where she was married to Raoul. When I told her of what Nathan had said, she turned very pale indeed, and told me that she knew the name of the Baron…Baron von Kempt. Christine said that in her dream, she met me having tea with the Baron…she believes she saw a parallel life; a life where one decision would have led to a whole new existence. It is rather bizarre…surely she told you of this?"
Erik felt his own blood drain from his face. Baron von Kempt had a reputation around Paris for a being a ruthless, power-hungry man…whispers said that he ran through servants like a family of four runs through bread. Of all the men…Erik shook his head. "She mentioned her dream to me when she first woke up that night…but she has said nothing else on the subject."
"Perhaps she hasn't found the time?" Elisabeth posed the question tentatively; broaching a subject that she knew might put her brother in a foul mood. She was right.
Erik growled, low and deep in his throat. "What are you insinuating, Elisabeth? That I'm never home? That I never see my wife? That I haven't had a decent conversation with her in ages?" Erik felt the anger flood him, his eyes narrowing to take in Elisabeth's shrugging figure. He had just voiced the fears and guilt that had been plaguing him for months, and now that they were verbal he felt no ease of the pain…only a resurgence of angry guilt.
"Erik, it's always difficult after a new baby…and in your case, two new babies! Your family is different…you just have to adjust."
Erik started to rise quickly from the ground. "I do not need relationship advice from you, Elisabeth…nor do I need reassurance." Elisabeth reached out and grabbed his arm, using him as leverage to help herself from the floor.
"I know that I am not an expert; I do not pretend to be. You don't have to get so angry. Erik…I only care about your well-being…and look at yourself! Your clothes are hanging from your body…you look as though you haven't slept in weeks! You are not taking care of yourself!"
Erik spun away from her. "I do not need to hear this from you! Play nursemaid and counselor to someone else, Elisabeth…I have neither the time nor the patience for this." He swiftly moved toward the side exit of the stage.
"Fine! Go off angry! Waste away to nothing, or fall asleep standing up! See if I care!" Elisabeth's irritated words followed Erik as he fled the auditorium and Elisabeth's accusing stare.
Erik made his way home, ignoring the driving wind and snow as he pulled his whipping cloak closer to his body. The snow never bothered him; the cold was like a persistent irritant, and nothing more. His mind swarmed with the many problems he now faced…he had to try and solve them. What was the most important problem? Erik thought of his wife. Yes, the problem surrounding Christine and himself was the number one worry on Erik's mind…and the number two worry was this Nathan business. He pushed all thoughts out of his mind but one: the image of Christine. Which imagine had he chosen? Was it the image of her, staring at him with doe eyes as he extended his hand to help her from the gondola on the night he had sung to her of the music of the night? Or was it the image of her as Aminta, rising gracefully above the stage, her small mouth opened wide as the words of passion emerged from her lips…no. It was none of those images. In their place was the image of Christine holding their daughters for the first time. Ironically, that was the night that their problems had first begun…Erik closed his eyes as he walked, focusing his mind on the one thought more important than all others. He had had so many second chances with Christine…he could not let distance separate them. Erik knew that he had never been much of a companion to Christine…he kept to himself mostly, not liking to gossip about his comings and goings as she sometimes indulged. There was one thing Erik was sure of: he loved her more now than the day he had first discovered that he was in love with her. He could mend the rift between them; and the mending would begin now.
Erik unlocked the front door of his house and entered the front entry. The downstairs was dark; few candles were lit. Erik raised his voice to call through the house:
"Christine?"
A response: "I'm up here, love…in the nursery."
Erik climbed the stairs two at a time, anxious to see his wife. As he approached the nursery he heard a sharp crash, then a moan. Erik turned automatically towards the noise, and was surprised to find it emitting from his music room. Funny, Erik thought as he headed for the opened door, normally I have the door locked. He stopped in the doorway and stared in shock. His music room…it was destroyed! It was mayhem! And there, in the center of it all, was little Brian, holding his arm and crying loudly. Erik entered carefully, trying to assess the damage. He made his way to Brian.
"What happened in here, Brian?"
Brian looked up at Erik with large, scared eyes. "I was playing Racing Horse…and I ran into your desk! I got a scrap…look!" He held up his arm, and Erik saw bright blood on the boy's shirt sleeve. Erik sighed and picked Brian up and carried him to his bedroom. Erik placed him on the bed and took off Brian's shirt.
"What have I told you about going into my music room? It's off limits, right? What were you doing in there?" Erik spoke quietly, but he could barely keep his anger in check. He did not want to yell at his young brother, but the urge was hard to resist.
"Momma told me to stay on the second floor…and I was bored. I saw the door and it was open, I swear! And I was just going to look around…but then I played Racing Horse, and I hurt myself!"
Erik looked at him sternly. "If you hadn't disobeyed me, you wouldn't have gotten hurt. Your arm is fixed…and you stay in this room for the rest of the night. You broke the rules, Brian…and rules have consequences."
Brian looked at him with tearful eyes. "I'm being punished?"
"Yes."
"Oh." Brian turned away from Erik and pulled his legs in close to his body, pouting to himself. Erik rose swiftly and exited the room, shutting the door behind him. He headed for the music room, picking up the various scattered sheets of music as he made his way to the desk. Brian must have hit the desk rather hard, Erik mused, as he noticed the overturned objects and ink…Erik began to clear away the mess, noting that nothing of importance had been ruined by the spreading inkwell. But there was an object missing from his desk…Erik began to search frantically for it, not seeing it anywhere. Finally, after getting on his hands and knees, he found the object under his desk.
"Please don't let it be broken," Erik muttered to himself, picking up the small music box. He had made this music box himself: it had a toy monkey placed protectively over the box, playing the cymbals expertly between his tiny hands. Erik opened the lid of the box with baited breath…and no sound emerged. Erik closed his eyes, feeling the last link of his past life die in his hands…Erik tossed the music box in a rage as he stormed from the room and entered the nursery. A tired Christine greeted his eyes.
"There you are, love…how was your day at the Ope-" Christine's voice trailed off as she viewed the look of fury on her husband's face. "What in the world…what's wrong?"
Erik jerked his head at her, smirking unkindly. "What do you do all day, Christine? Do you sit in here and occupy your time with the twins, and forget all about Brian? Do you know where he was a moment ago? Do you know what he has done?" Erik paced the floor before Christine, his angry eyes taking in her hurt and bewildered expression, but he cared not.
"What do you mean 'what do I do all day'? I work at trying to maintain this house! I care for two screaming infants non-stop…and I chase Brian from one end of the house to the other, all while you're at work. But then again, you're not home to see that, so you wouldn't know that I do all these things…what has Brian done?"
Erik lowered his eyes to slits, his glowing blue green eyes still vivid between the lids. "He was in my music room…and it is in utter disarray because of his presence! But what is worse…he has destroyed my music box!"
Christine raised her head to look into her husband's eyes. "Your music box…the one that plays 'Masquerade'? Oh, Erik…I am so sorry." Christine knew how much that music box meant to Erik…but he could not be placated with her words. He rounded on her, throwing his hands into the air.
"Of course you're sorry! But that doesn't change anything, now does it? If you had just kept an eye on Brian…none of this would have happened!"
Christine eyes narrowed. "You think this is my fault? Don't you normally keep your music room locked? Why wasn't it locked, Erik? I am not to be blamed for Brian's actions…or your carelessness!"
"I was not careless!" Erik roared, his loud voice filling the room. His twin daughters promptly began to scream. "If you can't keep up with the number of children in this house, then perhaps I should hire a nanny, Christine…perhaps a maid as well. If you can't handle your responsibilities, I can hire people that will!"
A speechless gasp emerged from Christine. "You think me an ill wife? I will not have strangers raising my daughters…but that is exactly what you have become! You're never home, Erik…I never see you, I never talk to you; you make no effort to help me! You expect me to be the perfect wife and the perfect mother…I feel so stretched and worn that eventually I shall break! Then what will you do, I wonder…what would you do, if you did not have your wife to scream at!"
Now it was Erik's turn to be speechless. He just stared at Christine, who was soothing Celena in her arms. She was right…she was absolutely infallibly right. Erik had entered the house with plans to put the air right between his wife and himself…and all he had managed to do was widen the rift. He opened his mouth to speak, but Christine held up her hand.
"No. You are absolutely right. I have failed you as a wife…and as a mother. I shall endeavor to do better, husband. Until then, I beg you to bear with me and my faults…as I have done with your numerous ones."
"Christine…please…I'm sor-" Erik started, but Christine swiftly turned her head to hide the tears.
"Please go now, Erik…leave me in solitude…I beg you." Erik looked at her turned face; the cheek he could see had a flood of tears running down into her mass of dark curls. He reached out to touch her face, but she pulled away from him. Erik felt the sadness weigh against him…but what was worse was the pride. He should have fallen to his knees at that moment and begged her forgiveness…he should scoop her into his arms and kiss away the tears she cried for him…but instead, his prideful, arrogant body strode quickly away from his weeping wife. Erik followed his feet back into his music room…and he picked up his broken music box. Was this miniscule thing worth the pain he had just inflicted upon his wife? Erik gazed at the box, wishing he could trade it for the angry words he had just spoken. What could he do? Erik gathered his tools around him. He spent the rest of the night tinkering with his music box until it was perfect again…not aware that his wife spent her first lonely night in their marriage bed without him.
Christine awakened from a fitful night of sleep. She kept turning over in bed, expecting to feel her husband's comforting presence beside her…but he wasn't there. He didn't return to their chambers last night. Christine knew he was upstairs…every once in a while in the night she would hear him curse loudly, or drop something heavy on the floor. Christine did not have to get up for the twins once; Erik apparently took care of that as well. She slowly withdrew from the bed, pulling a robe onto her slender body as she padded her way to the kitchen. Erik normally left her notes on the kitchen counter…and she prayed that this day was no exception. Christine regretted her words from last night; all the emotions she had been feeling over the past month had boiled over in the form of her angry tears. She walked slowly into the kitchen and breathed a sigh of relief. On the table was a note…and a long stem red rose. Where in the world did he get this, Christine wondered, touching the delicate crimson petals lightly with her index finger. She eyed the note next.
Dearest,
I shall endeavor to hasten my return from the Opera Populaire today. We have much to discuss…and I have much to apologize for. I have taken you for granted…and I shall spend the rest of my days proving myself worthy of your love. Words cannot express in such a way as to convey what I mean to say…I merely ask you to remember my love for you is above all other things.
Yours,
Erik
Christine made her way up the stairs, clutching her note and rose tightly against her breast. She checked on her daughters first…making sure that all was right. They both slept soundly. Christine set the rose on the dresser by the window; she tucked the note into the pocket of her robe. She then checked on Brian…his little chest rose and fell in its own rhythm. Christine pushed a piece of his black hair from his face, and he opened his blue eyes.
"Hi," Brian said sleepily. Christine smiled at him.
"Hello there…did you sleep well, little bee?" Brian nodded once, then sadness clouded his eyes.
"I made Daddy mad…I didn't mean to." Christine hugged him tightly.
"I know you didn't…but sometimes we have to do what we're told without disobeying…there are things in Erik's music room that could have hurt you if they had fell on you…and Erik's most prized 'toys' are in there…and we don't want to break Daddy's toys, do we?"
Brian nodded, understanding completely. He didn't want anyone to break his toys, after all… "Momma, I'm hungry…can we have bacon?"
Christine laughed. "Of course, little bee…get dressed and you can help!"
After breakfast, Christine wondered into the playroom. Brian had already set up several of his toys, and Christine moved the twins to their cradles in the room. She took a basket of mending from behind her chair and began to mend while her daughters slept and Brian played various games with his toys. The morning flew by, and before Christine knew it the clock struck one o'clock. She wrinkled her nose a bit and she put down her mending.
"Brian, let's take the babies to the nursery…you can play in your room, all right?" Brian nodded his agreement, and Christine carefully carried her daughters up the stairs. As she was changing their diapers, she heard a noise from downstairs. Was it Erik? She placed the babies in their cribs and left the room, standing at the doorway for a moment. Something wasn't right…
"Brian! Come here a moment," Christine spoke quietly into the lighted hallway. He trotted out from his room. "Will you stay with the twins a moment? I'm going downstairs." Brian nodded absentmindedly, and took his toy horse with him. Christine shut the door soundly behind them.
"Erik?" she called, hoping to hear his melodious voice from downstairs float to her…but she heard nothing. Christine carefully walked down the stairs. "Erik?" she called again, this time a little more frantic. She walked into the front entry way. The front door was still locked…Christine moved into the living room. She cried out as her foot stepped on something sharp. Christine looked down to find the floor glittering with broken glass…she raised her head and discovered that the large picture window in the front of the house had been shattered. Christine glanced around her quickly, whirling in place, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. "Eri-" Christine shrieked as she felt hands come across her face. A rag of some kind was being held to her nose and she smelt a sickeningly sweet smell before her world turned to black. A man stood over her and watched her crumple to the floor, making no attempts to stop her fall. He laughed, a cold evil laugh that filled the room with trepidation.
"There is no Erik here, love."
Erik arrived at the Opera Populaire with a heavy heart. He had not wanted to come today, but their was a meeting taking place in the afternoon with Raoul and Stefan that he simply had to attend…and there were too many orchestra problems to count. He spent the whole morning tending to the orchestra. Erik didn't even have the heart to argue with Donovan…all he wanted to do was get home and talk to Christine. Finally, at one o'clock, it was time for his meeting. After this, he would go home, even if he had to fake sickness…
"Hannibal's opening night has already sold out, and it has been on market for only two days! We have sold out every production this season, gentlemen…do you know what that means?" Stefan grinned over his glasses as he inspected the numbers in his hand.
"More money for the patrons?" Raoul said, giving Erik a sidelong glance. Erik was staring at the wall, and as he felt Raoul's eyes on him, he turned his attention back to their discussion.
"No, Vicomte…think about something other than money for a change…we could hire new dancers and singers…design and build new and better sets…produce grand productions. We could even put money back into the Opera Populaire; we could increase it's size…the more money we put in to our efforts, the more profits we shall make in the long run…oh, Stefan, I despise talk of money…music is more important. I know that income is essential…but I would so enjoy it if the Opera Populaire was merely about sweet music."
Stefan chuckled. "That is the Maestro in you talking, Erik…we need your Patron status in here." Erik scowled.
"I don't see why I should be here anyway…you and the Vicomte are perfectly capable of making these types of business decisions without my expertise." Stefan sighed.
"Yes, but you need to be involved…the meeting won't last much longer, Erik. If there is something more important that you need to do, by all means, go take care of it." To Stefan's surprise, Erik rose to his feet, nodding his head in thanks. As he opened the door, a messenger stood before him.
"Monsieur Massenet…I have a message for you, Sir."
Erik took the note curiously. "Where did it come from?"
The boy shrugged. "Dirty little man…stank to high Heaven. Never told me his name."
A feeling of foreboding overtook Erik as he stared at the tiny note in his hand. Raoul glanced at him in surprise.
"Erik, what's going on?"
Erik read the note briefly, then curled it within his hands and bolted from the room without a word. Raoul raced to the floor and picked up the discarded note.
I have taken something you shall sorely miss, Maestro…
Raoul ran after Erik. He caught up with Erik's black robed figure just as he disappeared behind one of his many secret passageways. "Erik! Damn you, wait up!"
Erik did not slow his pace, and Raoul tried desperately to keep up. They emerged from the passageway into the very streets of Paris, and they were quickly at Erik's home. Erik opened the front door. He heard the desperate screams of his twins…that had to be his first concern. He bounded up the stairs, Raoul at his heels. Erik went straight to the nursery and found it locked. Odd, he mused…this door only has a lock on the inside. No matter…Erik called into the room.
"Brian? Are you in there?"
A small, timid voice answered: "Yes…I am."
"Can you unlock the door?"
A pause. "No…"
Erik motioned for Raoul to back up. "Brian, move as close as you can to the window, all right? Are you there?" There was a muffled response. Erik kicked the door open, the splintering wood raining upon him. He rushed in. Raoul followed, taking in everything in detail. Erik knelt beside Brian. "Tell me what happened, little bee."
Brian sputtered a minute. "Momma told me to wait in here with the babies…I heard her scream, so I locked the door like Lizzy showed me (but I don't know how to unlock it) and then the door rattled 'cause someone was trying to get it, but then they went away."
Erik breathed a sigh of relief. The bastard tried to get my children…Erik put a hand on Brian's shoulder. "You have saved your sisters' lives today, Brian…I have never been prouder…now, go to your room and gather your favorite toys…you get to go to the Opera House with me and Uncle Raoul."
"Yes!" Brian cheered as he leapt from the room. Raoul glanced at Erik curiously.
"Uncle Raoul?"
Erik didn't even look up. "There are more important things on my mind than your ego…it certainly conciliated the child, did it not?" Erik was leaning over his daughters, checking every feature for any indication that they might have been hurt. Satisfied, he turned to study Raoul. "Stay here with my girls, Vicomte…I must go and inspect the rest of the house." Raoul nodded once, and Erik crept back down the stairs, his hand going to a concealed knife at his belt. He walked into the living room and noted the broken window. Erik looked at the floor and noted blood as well. Christine might have stepped here unknowingly, he hoped in vain. That thought was certainly better than thinking that Nathan had hurt her… Erik took a deep breath of the air and smelled the sweet odor of chloroform. She has been drugged! Erik felt the anger and rage flow through his body. If only he had killed that bastard…none of this would have happened! No…he could not let himself lose control. He must be cold…calculating. Erik headed back up the stairs and into the music room. He lifted a loose floorboard from underneath a rug…and pulled out his well used coil of rope. Underneath the rope was a long forgotten keepsake…Erik retrieved this as well and carefully placed it within his cloak. Erik smiled, a dark and ominous smile that beamed from the guilt he felt in his heart. He would wallow in blood again…and he would save his wife as only he knew how…Erik snapped the rope between his hands, feeling the oiled coils of rope within his fingers. The bastard won't know what hit him…
"All right, everyone…rehearsals are done for the day. Thank you all for your cooperation-wait; Madam Giry wants to see all ballet members before they leave. Other than that, have a great afternoon." Donovan bowed to his cast and turned his attention back to his own musical rehearsal. Elisabeth sighed in relief and gratefully took a small hand towel offered to her. Her dark locks were pulled from her face in a tight bun, but she still found that she glistened with perspiration in a most unlady like fashion. Elisabeth cleared her throat a little, feeling the burn from overuse. Honey will fix anything, she thought, as she headed back to her room, thoroughly exhausted. Elisabeth followed the lighted corridor automatically to her dressing room. Once inside, she turned and locked the door, going behind the screen to undress from her soiled rehearsal clothes. First, she thought, I must rid myself of this cumbersome bun! She pulled her dark hair loose, sighing in relief as her heavy hair descended past her shoulders. Elisabeth had just pulled her head through a suitable dress when she heard a creak. She rapidly pulled the dress over her eyes and peered out from behind the screen. Glowing eyes were staring at her from the ornate mirror's depths, and Elisabeth let out a sharp shriek as the mirror flung open. She was quickly quieted by her own recognition; her brother, holding Aurora, stepped through the mirror's threshold, followed closely by Brian and Raoul with Celena. Elisabeth glanced at them in utter confession. Erik did not even look at her; he simply walked to the door and opened it into the hallway. Elisabeth looked at Raoul, a question in her eyes, but he merely shrugged and gestured for her to follow. Elisabeth walked behind them at a brisk pace, surprised that not even Brian was speaking to her. Erik finally stopped as he approached his and Christine's bedroom; he opened the door forcibly. He gently placed Aurora in her crib and motioned for Raoul to do the same with Celena. It was then that Erik spoke his first words.
"Raoul, please go and find Madam Giry…I care not if she is occupied; tell her of the importance of the matter at hand, and have her meet me here at once." Erik spoke through gritted teeth, as if the effort for civil conversation was too much of an effort at the moment. As Raoul exited the room, Elisabeth called out:
"She's on stage, Raoul…you'll find her there."
Brian looked solemnly from Elisabeth to Erik. He tugged on Erik's coattail. "Can I go find nanny?" Erik shook his head.
"You must stay here…but you can go with Uncle Raoul for a moment. Would you like that?" Brian nodded enthusiastically, and he raced after Raoul. This left Erik and Elisabeth alone…Erik promptly turned his back on Elisabeth, turning his attention to his infant daughters. Elisabeth came forward and touched his shoulder.
"Erik…what has happened? Why did you bring the twins to the Opera House? And where is Christine?" Erik closed his eyes, feeling the anger begin to shake his limbs uncontrollably. I will not lose control…he would regret his words…I will not lose control… "Please, brother…talk to me?" I will not lose control…but his vision was beginning to blur with tears…I will not lose control….his wife, submitted to horrors that he could not imagine by Nathan, and he did not know where to begin to look for her….Erik swayed; he latched hold of his daughters' bassinet, hearing words spoken only for him: This is your fault…your fault…her death is your fault…you let this happen…your fault…
"This is your fault!" Erik roared, turning suddenly to grab Elisabeth by the arms roughly as he shook her, tears streaming down his face. "You let this happen! If I had just killed him…if I had ended it, none of this would have happened! But you…you protected him! I showed him mercy…because of you! My wife is dead because of you!" Erik let her go, watching as Elisabeth fell into a heap on the cold floor. The words were poison now…they streamed from Erik as the venom from a snake seeps into its victims. "All I want is my wife! My Christine…and he has taken her from me! I cannot live without her, Elisabeth…damn you! Damn you for your compassion!" Elisabeth stared into his eyes; she saw the living dead in his gaze. She lowered her eyes to the floor, tears running unchecked down her porcelain cheeks.
"Nathan…he has murdered Christine? He has taken away your life…to get to me." Elisabeth closed her eyes and tasted the guilt in her soul; it was a bitter sour taste that left unimaginable pain in its wake.
"No…not murdered. He took her from my home…kidnapped her. She could be dead…she could be alive; it doesn't matter. I do not know where she is…I cannot save her." Erik collapsed on the floor next to Elisabeth. "If I had been there…if I have stayed home today, like I wanted, none of this would have happened! If I had truly acted the part of husband to Christine…she would never be in this danger! We had a fight, Elisabeth…last night…it was horrible! She said…she said…'what would you do, if you did not have your wife to scream at'…and now…I…" Erik's voice trailed off suddenly, ending his thought abruptly. His shoulders began to shake, and without a word Elisabeth took her brother into her arms. He sobbed painfully into her hair as Elisabeth held him, stroking his back softly, whimpering tears of her own. Erik broke down, releasing his tears and torments…his fears and anguish. They sat there in silence for a long moment before Elisabeth released Erik. His mask had fallen in his unbidden state…but Elisabeth merely handed the cold leather mask back to her brother, taking in his haunted face calmly. Erik stared at the mask in his hands…then looked up at his sister as she spoke.
"I'm sorry, brother…for the pain that I have caused you…I should never have left Calais…I have been a burden."
Erik shook his head sadly. "You are not to blame for any of this, Elisabeth…I am truly sorry for saying otherwise. The fault is my own, little sister…and I have never regretted taking you from your horrible Hell…so much like my own self-inflicted solitude. What am I going to do, Elisabeth? What am I going to do…"
Erik didn't care that he was showing an obvious weakness…he didn't care that for the first time in his life he was indecisive about a crucial dilemma in his life. His walls were down…his defenses, his black cloak of concealment…but it was just Elisabeth beside him…and he could trust her above all others. She was his blood…
"We have to find her…maybe he will want a trade, brother…you have to pull yourself together, Erik." Elisabeth found her brother's eyes, and raised his head to study him. His horrible visage was contorted in grief and fear…and Elisabeth was unnerved by it. "We will find Christine…but you must know what you must do. You have to banish the fear and the dread." Erik looked into her eyes, clarity marring his features now. He stood quickly, walked away a little. He closed his eyes as he released a part of himself that had remained buried for a long time. Erik's slumped shoulders rose proudly; he stood straight, allowing his tall frame to give him confidence once again. He glanced once more at the mask in his hand before dropping it, watching it flutter harmlessly to the floor. Erik pulled from within his cloak a new mask…a mask that had filled him with power long ago. He put on the mask carefully, smoothing his dark hair to its original position. Erik turned to face Elisabeth slowly, and Elisabeth gasped. Standing before her was not her brother…she stared into the burning eyes of a death's head…those piercing eyes held no pain now…only fiery resolve.
"You are quite right, my dear. My torments shall become Nathan's torments…my pain shall become his own…I will have my REVENGE!" Elisabeth flinched as Erik's voice seemed to fill her head...her very soul. My God, who is this man? Elisabeth thought frantically, gazing at her brother reverently.
The door flew open into the room to reveal a harassed looking Madam Giry, followed closely by Raoul and Brian. Elisabeth glanced away from her brother for a moment…and when she glanced again he was gone. Elisabeth narrowed her eyes, trying to find where he was. She turned her attention back to Madam Giry, and to her surprise she seemed to be having a conversation with someone…but Elisabeth could hear nothing. From the puzzled look on Raoul's face, Elisabeth would bet that he didn't hear anything either.
"Are you sure this is what you want to do, Erik?" Madam Giry asked out loud to the darkness of the room.
Yes. A voice hissed lightly in the silence of the room. Elisabeth moved her head back and forth. She had heard her brother clearly this time…but he had spoken closely in her ear…and yet no one was there. Ventriloquism, she thought with awe. She knew her brother was a master of his own voice…she had once heard him make flowers sing for her younger brother…but why wouldn't he appear before them now?
And then, she heard it…a tiny voice within her head, only for her ears.
Elisabeth…you must be strong. You must stay here…
"No!" Elisabeth said loudly. "I will not let you go alone!"
There was a sharp knock on the door. Stefan entered, holding a note in his hand. "Where is Erik? I have another note."
Read it…
Stefan was bewildered for a moment, looking for the source of the voice. Finding none, he read the note out loud. "It seems we have a stalemate. A trade for a trade is in order…Elisabeth for Christine. You have until midnight tonight to make your decision…I await you at the graveyard."
There was a slight hiss…and Erik appeared from the shadows, his death's head mask glowing with an unearthly light. Stefan uttered a small shriek that Erik silenced with a gesture. He had tried to avoid this…he did not want his friends to see him like this. Erik had to maintain his mindset…but this new development could not be handled with tricks.
"It changes nothing!" Erik murmured, though his voice filled every corner of the room. "I will still go alone."
Elisabeth rushed forward, glad to finally be able to grasp her brother firmly. "Erik, see reason! If you do not show with me in your custody, Nathan may simply kill Christine outright!" Erik paused and looked at Elisabeth, his eyes shining with pride.
"You are so very intelligent, Elisabeth…but I will not risk your safety. All paths to a solution to this problem are dangerous…but I will not risk more people's lives…you must stay here, so that I will at least know you are safe." Erik could not be swayed.
"I am not asking for your permission, Erik…I have to go! You can accept it and accompany me, offering all the protection I need…or I can follow you blindly…either way, I AM COMING WITH YOU!" A silence fell over Erik…his thoughts whirled within his head.
"I'm coming too, Erik…you cannot keep me from protecting the two women that I care for the most." The Vicomte added his words into the mix of conflicting thoughts that Erik was trying desperately to sort out. He finally shook his head in defeat.
"I do not like this…but if you go, you must obey my instructions…all of them! You will see things that you will not like…Vicomte, you know what it is I speak of." Erik turned his death's head toward Raoul, and he gulped visibly. Raoul found his feet moving closer to Erik…he raised his head and spoke words only for Erik.
"Yes…I do. Do you have the Punjab with you?" Erik's eyes burned within his mask, and he nodded pointedly. Raoul turned away and sighed.
"Then let's go save Christine, Erik…"
The night and its darkness had once been reassuring to Erik…but now it seemed to hold on ominous presence that he could not deny. His black cloak flapped in the cold wind…the December night showed no mercy to the three riders racing across the Paris streets. Erik led the small group through the snow flurries and the puddles of frozen water, careful of his horse as he galloped toward the cemetery. He had no doubts as to which cemetery Christine had been taken to…Erik smiled darkly. It was a cemetery he was most familiar with.
Wandering child, so lost, so helpless…yearning for my guidance…
Erik could not allow him to think of the precious moments he had shared with his Angel…he had to concentrate on the here and the now…
Angel of Music, my protector…come to me strange Angel…
He could hear her voice in his mind…she was singing songs in his head…he loved her so much…
Erik concentrated on the rapid tapping of his horse's hooves against the cobblestone road. He would find her…and she would be alive. He would not accept anything else. His Angel's protector was coming for her.
The entrance of the graveyard was quite suddenly before him. Erik reined in his horse to a stop and jumped gracefully from his back. Elisabeth glanced at the graveyard, noting the rolling mist through the small snowflakes.
"It's kind of creepy, isn't it?" Elisabeth accepted Raoul's hand as he helped her from the horse.
"Yes…what is it with graveyards and mist?" Raoul added, lingering in his embrace of his Elisabeth. She looked into his worried hazel eyes and squeezed his hand tightly.
"I'll be all right, Raoul…everything will be all right."
"I only wish I could be sure of that…I can't let anything happen to you, Elisabeth…I-" He was interrupted as Elisabeth kissed him passionately. Raoul pulled her close, feeling her tremble slightly in his embrace. He ran his fingers through her hair teasingly, and Elisabeth pulled away. Erik cleared his throat.
"Could we remember why we are here for a moment?"
Raoul looked at Elisabeth, three words gleaming in his eyes…but were left unsaid. Erik turned away from the two, seeing for a moment his own Christine…
"Let's go…stay aware, Raoul, Elisabeth…be on the lookout for anything."
Erik led the way into the graveyard…his two cohorts formed an informal triangle behind him. Erik cast uneasy eyes everywhere…the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end; he stopped suddenly, motioning for Elisabeth and Raoul to stay behind. Erik continued cautiously, looking at each monument, statue, and tombstone as he walked. Something was odd…Erik heard an odd scratching noise…as if something hard was being rubbed against something of the same consistency…Erik turned as he heard Raoul shout:
"Erik! LOOK OUT!"
Erik turned, feeling the world slow around him. He saw the large statue, saw the little man pushing and prying against a bit of leverage he found usable in a large piece of wood…the statue was falling forward, much to the little man's delight…Erik saw the huge piece of stone leaning toward him…he didn't have time to move…this was his moment of death. He kept his eyes wide open, refusing to shut them as the realization of failure filled him…he had failed Christine, failed Elisabeth…failed himself. Erik stared in horror…and then felt a hard push against his side. He savored the pain as he flew through the air, landing awkwardly on top of a stone tombstone. His head screamed in agony as he collided with the ornament wings of the angel he hit; he felt the warm blood begin to flow from underneath his mask. Erik heard a grunt…
Erik looked back at where he had been standing just a few moments previous…and now saw Raoul, pinned against the snow covered ground by the same stone statue that had meant to bring his death…Raoul's upper body was pressed hard against the ground; the statue laid across his legs at his mid-thigh. Erik raced for Raoul just as Elisabeth reached him, screaming and crying into the snow. Erik grabbed for her.
"Elisabeth! I have to…you have to move!" Erik pushed her gently to the side. Raoul favored him with a small smile, his blood rimmed teeth adding a sinister look to his otherwise handsome face.
"Erik…you have to save Christine…you have to…go now…" Erik grabbed Raoul's wrist, checking his pulse…it was racing, but it was strong.
"You foolish fop…why did you do it? Why would you save my life…" Raoul gasped, coughing up blood.
"I did…what I knew...that Christine would have wanted…you're the only one that can save her…"
Erik felt biting tears in his eyes. "I'm going to try to get this off of you, Raoul…"
"NO!" Raoul strained against his position. "Think, Erik…you're suppose to be smarter than me…the statue is acting like a compress…you take it off me, then all the blood will rush to my legs…and promptly bleed out. Not to mention that you need you're strength for the fight ahead."
Erik shook his head. "If I leave the statue on…your legs could die without blood support…you would never walk again." Raoul nodded, indicating that he understood. Erik took off his cloak and jacket. He placed the jacket over Raoul's torso. He replaced his cloak over his own body.
"I am sorry…I need the cloak. You must stay awake Raoul…I will not see you die. You must not sleep…no matter how it might beckon to you." Erik heard Nathan's evil laughter from up ahead. "Elisabeth, stay with Raoul…take this." He handed her his revolver. "You know how to use this…aim twice, shoot once." Elisabeth nodded, her eyes bright with despairing tears.
Erik continued on alone, leaving Elisabeth and Raoul. Raoul shuddered slightly.
"Elisabeth…"
She leaned down, cradling his head in her lap. "I'm here, Raoul…"
"I never told you…I love you, Elisabeth…from the first day I saw you…now, it seems too late…"
Elisabeth shook her head furiously. "It is not too late! I love you too, Raoul…and you will live! You will live…for if you die, my heart will die with you."
Raoul smiled and reached his hand up to touch a strand of Elisabeth's hair. "I'm glad that it's you…it's your face that I will see last…it will be imprinted in my mind always…"
"No Raoul…you will not die…you will stay with me."
Raoul smiled again. "I love you, Elisabeth…" Raoul's bright hazel eyes filled with tears…and he closed them. Elisabeth screamed into the night.
"NOOOOO!"
Erik continued deeper into the cemetery, following the demented man's laughter. Erik burned with guilt…his life should have ended, not Raoul's! How he hated his rival! He owed Raoul is life…how could he hate him now? He could not…that was the answer…Raoul's life was in Erik's hands now. Just as Christine's was…
"Ah…you have decided to join us after all, Monsieur. Pity about your Vicomte…I take no blame in the nobility's death…after all, I had meant to crush you!"
Erik turned the corner and saw Nathan standing in front of the steps leading to Christine's father's tomb. The fiend! Nathan noted Erik's surprise, and he laughed deeply.
"You see, Maestro, I was not idle in my two week absence…I learned quite a bit about you and your family…tell me, is Massenet your real name? There are no records, Monsieur, on you…but there was plenty to be found on Christine Massenet…or should I say Daae?" Nathan gestured with his hand at a figure crumpled on the front stairs; her long, thin robe lay open, fluttering slightly in the cold wind. Erik could see that Christine's lips were a deep blue. Even unconscious, Christine was shivering against the biting cold. Erik moved automatically to his wife, but found a rapier in his way.
"No, Monsieur…we have business first, I believe. Elisabeth for Christine."
Erik shook his head, speaking for the first time. "I thought we would come to that snag. I will not trade the two women that I love…I will kill you first."
Nathan laughed. "I think not, Monsieur…you are not hiding in the shadows this time. I see you clearly…and I will not be intimidated by your demon mask. Perhaps I will see what lies beneath…"
Erik pulled his own rapier from his cloak. "If that is your wish…" Nathan gave him a courtesy bow. Erik ignored the etiquette, preferring to watch his movements closely. Nathan shrugged, a careless gesture that indicated to Erik that he would be a shoddy fighter.
"I will enjoy killing you…have I told you about my blade? It is very special…"
Erik did not reply. He talks as he fights…that is a weakness. Erik swiped at him with his blade as Nathan artfully darted away. Nathan continued.
"I have always been fond of poison…pills, liquids, gases…what can I say, I have a gift. My blade tip is poisoned with a rather interesting concoction…it will liquefy your lungs as you drown in your own blood…rather nice, isn't it?"
Erik moved in quickly, wrapping his cloak over Nathan's head as he slashed at his legs. He felt his blade score a hit, and Nathan's hiss of pain was a beautiful sound in his mind.
"Damn you, demon! Monster! You think you will win, Monsieur? You have already lost…you just don't know it yet!"
Nathan laughed as he struck with his blade…he saw Erik back up, clutching his arm. Nathan saw Erik's eyes glaze in pain. "It won't be long now, Monsieur…would you like me to explain it to you as you die?" Erik staggered backwards, still clutching his arm. "You will feel the tiny stings of a thousand ants attack your body…your knees will buckle and you will be unable to stand..." Nathan watched as Erik fell to one knee on the cold snow. Nathan moved closer in foolish confidence. He placed his blade into the ground and leaned against it. "Don't worry, Monsieur…you're wife will join you in death…after all, poison is my specialty…I'll make sure to give her something that will be most enjoyable for me to watch!" Nathan threw his head back and laughed heartedly…but found his laughter ceased as a strong rope found its mark around his neck. His eyes went to Erik's form in horror; Erik was standing upright, an evil glint in his eyes.
"How can this be!" Nathan gasped as Erik tightened the Punjab lasso that he had hidden within the folds of his cloak. Erik pulled him close, looking him directly in his eyes.
"You never hit me, bastard…now you will die…a unbearable, excruciating death that will equal every torment you have inflicted upon my sister…you're biggest mistake was trying to take what is mine…and Christine is MINE!" Erik pulled the rope taunt, watching the man's face turn purple. He would not break Nathan's neck…no, he would suffocate him…
NOOOOOO!
Erik jerked his head. That was Elisabeth. He looked once more into the cloudy eyes of his enemy…and snapped the rope expertly in his hands. A loud, resounding crack filled the air, and Erik dropped the body. He looked at it for a moment. Erik felt nothing…no remorse…only sadness. He raced to his wife, pulling the warm cloak from his body. He gently wrapped it around her.
"Christine? Angel…wake up…Christine…"
Christine opened her eyes cautiously. When her eyes focused on her husband's face, she let out a cry in relief. She flung herself in his arms. "Erik! God help me…Nathan has our children! He's going to kill them!" Erik pulled her close into his arms, stroking her hair.
"No, love…the twins and Brian are safe…they are with Madam Giry. Are you hurt at all?" Christine sobbed against Erik in relief. She pulled away again.
"Erik, I am so sorry about our fight…I feel so foolish now…I love you so much!"
Erik picked her up. "I love you too, Angel…but we have more pressing problems. Raoul is injured…"
Erik carried Christine back toward Raoul and Elisabeth. Elisabeth was lying on the ground next to an unconscious Raoul. Erik placed Christine on the ground.
"Elisabeth…please, go to Christine…I will take care of Raoul."
Elisabeth moved automatically to Christine, who enveloped her in her long arms. Erik kneeled beside Raoul.
"Boy…wake up…it is not yet your time…" Raoul opened his eyes slightly.
"The pain…it's too much, Erik…I can't…" Erik shook his head.
"Listen to me Raoul. I'm going to lift the statue now…you will feel the release of the pressure, but you cannot close your eyes. Listen to my voice, Raoul…do as I say."
Raoul nodded vaguely, and Erik positioned himself over Raoul. He tried to lift the statue…but found that he could not. He turned to Christine and Elisabeth.
"The best I can hope for is to raise it enough for you two to drag Raoul out from underneath…can you do this?" Christine looked at Raoul fearfully, then nodded. Elisabeth had a fierce look on her face. The girls moved to Raoul's shoulders. "On my count…one…two…THREE!" Erik strained against the heavy statue, feeling the stone give way at his touch. It was the most Erik had ever lifted…but he had to hold it. He watched in horror as his wrist twisted before his eyes…he felt the snapping of his wrist bones from the weight of the statue. The pain washed over him, but Erik ignored it. Finally, Christine called to him, and he dropped the statue, grabbing his wrist tightly in an effort to stop the stinging, nauseating pain. Raoul lay still in the snow.
"Is he…all right?" Erik gasped, unable to breathe. He ripped the mask from his face, taking in big gulps of air. Christine gasped as she looked into Erik's face; Erik looked at her in confusion, then remembered the head injury: he must be covered in blood. Christine came forward to check on her husband, but he waved her away gently, still gasping for air. "Is he…conscious?"
Elisabeth looked up, hope in her eyes. "Yes…and the blood is returning to his legs."
"And it doesn't exactly feel wonderful." Raoul added weakly. Erik recovered enough to check him over himself. His legs were not a pretty sight to be had…it was plain that many bones were broken; some jagged pieces had broken the skin. Erik sighed deeply as Raoul began to bleed profusely from the wounds.
"I can mend your bones, Raoul…we need to get you back to the Opera House…infection could set in." Erik thought for a moment. How would they ever get him back to the Opera Populaire on horseback? Christine seemed to read his mind.
"Nathan had a buggy, Erik…it's parked at the entrance." Erik looked her over in concern.
"Are you sure he didn't hurt you, love? No pain?"
Christine smiled shakily. "No…I'm all right."
Erik turned his attention to Raoul. "I'm going to have to carry you, Raoul…"
Raoul looked at him wearily. "Just don't drop me, no matter the urge you may have to do so…"
"I shall contain myself of the whim, Vicomte."
The ride back to the Opera Populaire was one part joyous and one part worry. Christine was safe and sound, albeit a bit cold…she quickly warmed in her husband's embrace. Elisabeth was safe as well, and she would never worry about her stepfather again. Erik had killed Nathan, which cause him immense pleasure…but all were worried about Raoul's well being. Erik carried him into the Opera Populaire in the wee hours of the morning and began the tedious work of trying to save his legs. Erik worked hand and hand with the Opera House doctor…surgery was necessary. After several long hours of work, Erik looked at Raoul's legs in satisfaction. He traced one of the long scars from surgery…Raoul would have many scars from his ordeal. While Raoul slept off the effects of his impromptu surgery, Erik finally allowed himself to be checked over. He insisted he set his own wrist bone, however; even Erik could not have contained the howl of pain that echoed through the Opera House.
A little while later, his wrist wrapped tightly in white gauze, Erik sat with Elisabeth in Raoul's room. He slept peacefully, making little noise. Erik reached out and grabbed Elisabeth's shoulder.
"Things will get better, Elisabeth…they have to."
Elisabeth nodded, then turned her attention back to Raoul. "He told me that he loved me."
"And this was surprising to you?"
"No…I just-I didn't realize how much I cared for him until the moment I thought I would lose him forever."
Erik smiled sadly. "I know the feeling, little sister. Just don't take your love for him for granted."
"I'm glad to hear you say that, Erik…because I was going to ask her to marry me."
Erik glanced at Raoul in surprise, noting he was awake and trying to rise a little from the bed. Erik came forward, pushing him gently back onto the bed. "Don't try that, Raoul…it is too soon." Elisabeth was standing behind Erik, tears streaming down her face.
"Do you mean that Raoul? You want me to be your wife?"
Raoul nodded. "More than anything…" He choked, his words catching in his throat. "I can't live without you, Elisabeth…please, say you'll be mine…"
Erik moved away as Elisabeth came forward. She hugged Raoul gently, kissing him hard on the lips. "Of course I will marry you…that is, if my brother has no objections?" Elisabeth asked teasingly. Erik hesitated, then took Elisabeth's hand and placed it firmly within Raoul's.
"I would have it no other way, Elisabeth. I will welcome Raoul into our family." Elisabeth sobbed, hugging her brother tightly. Raoul beamed, happiness shining from every visible part of his face. Erik looked at Raoul sternly.
"Besides…you know exactly what I am capable of. I will not have to 'explain' my ways to a stranger. If you hurt her…" Erik left the thought empty, allowing Raoul to use his vivid imagination of what Erik would do to him. Erik sobered.
"I did the best I could with your legs, Raoul…we won't know the extent of the damage until you are fully healed. You must face the possibility of never walking again."
Raoul nodded grimly, his eyes never leaving Elisabeth's. "I understand, Erik…thank you…my friend." Raoul added the last part tentatively. Erik nodded and grasped his shoulder.
"I can never fully repay you for saving my life, Raoul…we will always have our differences," Erik said, then glanced at Elisabeth, "but we will also have our similarities…now, if you'll excuse me, I really must go and find my wife."
Erik left the room, leaving Elisabeth and Raoul free to share the togetherness that only the two of them could share.
Erik found his wife carefully smoothing Aurora's blonde locks. Erik sneaked up behind her and wrapped his strong arms around her, burying his head in her thick locks. Christine smiled as her husband breathed gently onto her neck. Christine turned into his embrace.
"I will never lose you again, my love…I have told Stefan that I merely want to be a Maestro…it means less money, but there are more important things…I'll be able to write my music at home…I'll help out more around the house…oh, Christine! Can you ever forgive me for my horrible words to you? I will do anything to take back those words from your memory."
Christine kissed him, teasing him gently with her motions against his body. "Anything, love?" He growled within her mouth, causing shivers to run up her spine.
"Yes…" Erik scooped Christine up from the floor and moved into the room across the hall. He laid her gently on the bed, admiring her beauty as her hair fanned out underneath her, like a dark halo. Erik kissed her deeply. "I love you, Christine…"
"And I, you, Angel…"
The early morning hours became their night as their bodies and souls united once again in a familiar burning passion.
(One year later)
"I'm nervous…"
Erik sighed wearily. "Why, Elisabeth? You look beautiful…I made your damn dress myself, you can't help but be pleased with it…your friends and family are here, all cheering you on…and I'm here, standing like a fool, waiting for you to make up your mind to walk down the aisle." Elisabeth fingered the lace on her wedding veil, and peeked once again through the sheer curtains at Raoul standing at the end of the aisle with the priest. He looked impeccable as always, leaning slightly on the twin canes before him. Raoul was looking toward the back anxiously…
"Are you sure you want to marry the fop?"
Elisabeth turned her attention back to Erik. "You bet your life on it…"
"Then let's get moving all ready!"
Erik flashed an arm, cuing Donovan to play the wedding march. The familiar music filled the church as Erik and Elisabeth started slowly down the aisle. The gasps that followed them were in awe of Elisabeth; she was the picture of a blushing bride. Erik glanced at his own wife, standing in her place as maid of honor, Meg beside her. Christine flashed him a brilliant smile, and Erik felt his knees weaken at the mere image of her…he continued down the aisle. Finally reaching the end, he stood stiffly, refusing to look at the grinning Raoul.
The wizen old priest spoke: "Who gives this young woman in marriage?"
"I, Erik Massenet, do…As her brother; I give her respectfully to the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny as his wife." He recited the words Elisabeth had told him to say, though he had tweaked them to his own liking. The priest nodded, and Erik took his seat in the front row. The ceremony passed in a blur, and before Erik knew it, Raoul had leaned in to give his bride her first kiss as a Vicomtess. Erik closed his eyes, thankful that for once, everything in his life was perfect...
The reception lasted well into the small hours of the night. Erik was exhausted; he sat limply in a chair, watching people dance around the floor. Christine broke away from her dance with Stefan to sit next to him.
"So, how do you feel, love?" Christine asked, waving her arms to indicate Raoul and Elisabeth dancing stiffly in one place. Raoul's legs had never fully healed, and he would eventually be confined to a wheelchair…but right now, he had mobility just with the use of his canes. Erik was impressed that Raoul didn't just give up and use the chair…he had even made Raoul two beautiful, unbreakable canes. Erik sighed and glanced at his beautiful wife.
"I feel old, Christine…I feel old." Christine laughed.
"That would explain the grey hairs I'm finding…" she laughed harder as Erik's indignant face glared at her.
"I do not have grey hairs…and if I do, it's because of you!"
"Or the twins…"
"Or the twins…" he agreed.
"Or Brian…"
"Or Brian…"
"Or the new baby…"
"Or the-WHAT!" Erik exclaimed suddenly. "What did you say, Christine?"
Christine just glowed. "I went to the doctor this morning…we're going to have another baby, Erik…" Erik just stared at her. He rose from the chair and pulled her up with him, whirling her around in the air. He kissed her deeply.
Erik slowly lower Christine back to the ground as a slow waltz began to play. He bowed slightly to her.
"May I have this dance, my love?"
As their twirled around the dance floor, Erik inspected the faces around him. Elisabeth, his beloved sister, was married and happy…and Erik was pleased that the Vicomte was happy about his marriage to…He better be, Erik thought. Stefan was dancing with Madam Giry, who was blushing an awful lot…and Meg was flirting with one of Raoul's cousins. He turned his attention back to his wife and thought of their first two years of marriage. If they could survive those horrible years, they could survive anything…but no matter how many haunting things happened, Erik could always count his good fortune: he had found Elisabeth and Brian…Christine had given him two beautiful daughters. He closed his eyes as Christine pressed against him closely…Erik had waited his whole life to feel love…now, it seemed, his life could truly begin.
The End
Author's note 2: I want to thank every single person who has read and reviewed…I have had so many wonderfully comments, and I can never truly tell you guys how much it has mean to me that you have liked this story…It will be sad to leave this story…but I loved every minute of writing it. I also have to say that I have stolen two lines from JK Rowling in this chapter…I couldn't resist, since HP is on my brain constantly (along with sexy Erik) I also stole from Yoda : Do, or do not…there is no try. I figured it was something that Erik would think…I wish everyone the best, and remember: EC is meant to be!
To: BroadwayGirl257: I was deeply touched as I read your review…I wish you had reviewed more so I could have gotten to know you! I shall think about your request for a sequel, though I don't have any plans for one as of yet…I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I feel tears coming on (for me, anyway…) Thank you so much, my new friend…I hope to hear from you again.
I would especially like to thank Lin. I am so very glad that I have gotten to know you through your reviews and emails…I hope you continue to enjoy Asia, and I will miss you once this story is done (which is now! SOBS, runs to room so I can be consoled by sexy Red Death Erik plushie) Love and Hugs, Amber
P.S. This chapter has over eleven thousand words in it. I hope that makes everybody happy! It certainly made me happy…If you liked this last chapter, please, please, please REVIEW!
P.S. 2: To: Son Kat: Update soon, I beg you! Make this my last request…