A/N: See the end of the chapter.

Ch. 38 – He Giveth and He Taketh Away

One summer evening, as they strolled through the park near their home, Erik noticed that Christine seemed much more quiet and subdued than usual. Concerned, he led her to a bench near a small pond at the edge of the path, and the two sat arm and arm gazing over the water. Erik gently stroked her hand with his thumb and inquired softly, "Is something bothering you, my dear?"

Christine looked up lovingly at his still handsome face. In all the years they had known each other, he never seemed to age at all. She often thought that it was as if God had made up for the disfigurement of the first thirty years of his life by allowing him to remain eternally beautiful for the remainder of it. And yet, it was not Erik's appearance that was his real beauty. The radiance of his soul was his true glory. It was that beauty that had drawn her so many years ago and continued to hold her now.

Accustomed to his perceptiveness when it came to her emotions, she responded to his question simply, "I think I am just tired, Erik. Even though I am nearly twenty years younger than you are, I have never had your boundless energy." She smiled reassuringly, but her explanation did not dispel his unease.

She looked pale, he thought, and thin suddenly. His concern growing, he stood up. "I think, Christine, that you should see a doctor. You haven't seemed yourself lately, and you know the boys will be worried if they see you this way next week when they come home for their visit." Christine knew him well enough to know that the real reason was to satisfy his own worries, but she sighed. "All right, my dear, if you think it is necessary, I will send for the doctor tomorrow morning." He bent and kissed her gently on the forehead. "Thank you, my love. Now, let's go home."

The next day, dawned gloomy and dismal. Erik sat staring out at the rain through the window of his study. The doctor was examining Christine in the next room, and he was impatiently awaiting his diagnosis. Something was wrong. He could feel it. As always, he was as attuned to Christine as he was to the beating of his own heart, and ever since their conversation in the park the day before he had been distinctly uneasy. As tense as he was, he nearly jumped at the slight knock on the study door. He stood abruptly, then relaxed slightly as Christine entered, smiling, with a rather bemused look on her face. Erik looked at her anxiously, but she walked up to him and laced her arms around his neck, kissing him gently. "How would you like to be a father again, my love?"

Erik was overjoyed at the prospect of another child. Secretly, he wished for a girl this time, a tiny picture of Christine with chestnut curls and big brown eyes. And yet, something about this pregnancy worried him. Even though he was a good deal older, Christine was no longer young – nearly forty. He thought guiltily that they should have perhaps been more careful to avoid the unnecessary risk to her. As deeply in love as they were, they never tired of each other, and their love making had never diminished in its frequency even from the first year of their marriage. And yet, Christine seemed exquisitely happy at the idea of another child. She was a born mother who delighted in her children and she too wished for a little girl to add to their happy family.

But this time her pregnancy was different. In contrast to the ease of her first two, she was often sick, and had difficulty gaining weight. She remained abed for days at a time, much to her displeasure, but she was simply too weak to move. Erik was with her constantly, reading to her, singing to her, holding her when she became frustrated with her incapacitation or frightened by her constant sickness. The boys had been delighted at the news of their future sibling, but after seeing their mother in so much suffering, they secretly shared in their father's concern. Erik-Philippe would visit nearly every night for supper, and the twins returned every weekend from the Academy. They would attempt to amuse her with anecdotes from their travels and shock her with their irreverent comments to the conductor. She would smile and laugh, and try to reassure them that everything was fine, but deep down, she knew it wasn't.

Finally, her due date drew near. She had been confined to her bed permanently for the past three months. Erik quietly entered the room, carrying a tray for her supper. She smiled weakly at him, her love shining in her eyes, though she had not the strength to extend it to her smile. He sat down next to her in the chair that he had occupied every night for the past three months, and set the tray on the table beside her. "It smells heavenly darling. Did you make it yourself?" He nodded, but his face was solemn, and though he smiled slightly for her benefit, she could see that he was feeling the same sense of foreboding as she was. As much as she wanted to protect him from her fears, he had always sensed her feelings without her words anyway. There was no way to protect him from this.

She was not worried for herself. Her faith was unshakeable after all the miracles she had witnessed in her short life. She worried only for Erik and for her children and her baby. She knew she was loved and needed beyond measure in her family, and her only thought now was what she could do to make this easier for them. She reached her hand up to touch his face, brushing back the tears that she could see tracing their path down his cheek. His voice broke, and he could not face her as he finally managed to put into words the fear that had been crushing him for the past nine months. "Christine, I ...I don't know what to do. I...I am so sorry for what I have done to you." He raised his face to her in wretched guilt, "I should never have put you in this position. I would gladly take your place, Christine. I have begged God to take me instead. I deserve it. You have done nothing but good. Why won't he take me instead?" His head hung, and he sobbed brokenly.

Summoning all her strength, Christine sat up, tears brimming in her own eyes at his pain. She cupped his cheek and forced him to meet her eyes. Gently, she whispered, "You have done nothing except love me without fail for over thirty years, Erik. I would not give up one day that we have shared over this lifetime, even for the promise of immortality itself." He laid his head on her shoulder burying his face into her curls as he so often had done throughout the years. His voice was small and muffled, "Let me go with you then. I beg God to take me as well. I can't bear life without you, Christine. I cannot..." Her heart broke at his words, but she could not allow him to continue in this dangerous line of thought. There was too much at stake. After all his years as her angel, her protector, this time she would be his strength.

Her voice was gentle, but firm as she spoke the words she knew needed to be said. "Erik, you are needed here. Your sons and this baby will need you now more than ever. Even in your grief, you cannot let it overwhelm you. You cannot hide in darkness after all the light God has granted you. It would be a sin against Him, against me, and against our family. I am entrusting you with that which is most dear to me, aside from you, and that is my children. I am the heart of this family, but you are its soul and its strength. You cannot abandon these lives that we have created when your own becomes too painful." She stroked his head, and he lay sobbing like a child in her lap. She spoke again, "Erik, promise me that whatever happens you will not let your grief consume you. Promise me on our love that you will be strong for our children." She lifted his head gently, her eyes solemn and serious, pleading with him to ease her mind and grant her the peace of knowing her family would be safe, no matter what lay ahead.

Through all his sorrow and anguish, Erik as always could sense her need for his reassurance. He looked up at her, still so radiant and beautiful, even in her suffering. He reached his hand up and lifted a wayward curl back from her face, brushing his fingers across her cheek softly. No matter how it pained him to live without her, he had never been able to refuse her anything, and even this request which would be so much more difficult than any other, he could not deny. His voice was filled with emotion, but his eyes did not leave hers as he spoke, "Christine, I love you. I have loved you every moment since I first saw you. I have loved no other, and I will love only you until the day that I die, and beyond that if it is possible. You have given me so much happiness...I cannot even put it into words. If God should take you, my very soul goes with you, for you are so entwined within in me that I will never be whole again. I cannot change that. I do not know where I will find the strength to go on living without you, but because I owe you so much, I will try. I will not fail you, Christine. No matter how much it hurts, I will do whatever I can to keep our family together, if God forbid you should leave us." His tears continued, but she could see his promise in his eyes. Christine sighed in relief.

She motioned for him to join her on the bed. He lay down beside her, pulling her into the safe, loving circle of his arms. She lay against him, closing her eyes, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It occurred to her as she lay there half awake and half asleep that it was that same steadfast rhythm that had brought her comfort through every ordeal of her life for the past twenty years, and even before. With urgency, she turned her face up to his. His eyes were open, and she whispered simply, "Erik I love you. Thank you." He nodded, unable to speak. He knew what she meant. Satisfied, Christine snuggled back into his arms and fell asleep peacefully, in what she somehow knew would be her last night in his arms.

Somewhere in the night, lights began to appear in various rooms around the de Chagny house. A motor carriage arrived, and a figure carrying a medical bag rushed hurriedly up the front steps. Hours later, two sounds echoed into the night. The first was the cry of a tiny baby, a girl, taking her first breath in the world. The second, was the anguished cry of a man who had just witnessed his beloved wife taking her last.

A/N: Okay, I am a little scared of you all right now, so I am not going to post anymore until tomorrow. I know I did an evil, evil thing. But it is not the end, and it will be almost entirely Erik from now on. I cried when I wrote this section. I think everybody wants to be loved like that. Let me know if I made you cry, that would make my day! (Okay, I didn't mean it like that.)

Couple of real author's notes – When Christine says Erik has loved her without fail for the past thirty years, please remember that she did not say they had been married thirty years. They have been married about 20.5 years at this point, but according to my calculations counting the years at the Opera House and the three years they were separated in between, that should be close to thirty years. Also, since twenty years have passed we are now in the age of motor cars instead of carriages. And as for how Christine knows somehow she isn't going to live through the night, I can only say that she just knows.