Sorry this chappy is so short, my friends, but I am absolutely horrible at writing filling stuff that just builds suspense... LOL The next chappie will be longer (since good stuff actually happens), but I gotta go to bed, now it's 2:02 in the morning... goodnight... or goodmorning, whatever, sleepy time!

And sorry this one took so long, too! I have stupid summer school, and my cousins are over... I'm just rather swamped, I'm afraid, but trust me, I'm trying as hard as I can...

Disclaimer: I do not own PotO.

A week later, Jane was standing before her mirror (hoping, for once, that Erik wasn't behind it) while Meg helped her tighten her corset.

"Oh, it is hard to breathe in one of these!" Jane exclaimed, putting a hand to her stomach in shock, "I have heard many women talk about it, but I never knew it was this constricting!"

Meg giggled, knowing exactly what Jane was talking about. "Yes, it is a bit strenuous," she agreed, patting her friend's shoulder just like her mother always did to her, "But don't worry; you will get used to it."

Jane tried to draw a breath, but she was forced to gasp for it. "I would rather not wear it, but as I'm beginning to show..." Her voice trailed off, and Meg's smile shrunk as they both recalled the babay and the fact that Erik hadn't made any appearance in over seven days.

Once the corset was tight enough, Meg helped Jane tie her dress, as Jane was by now incapable of twisting her arms around to her back herself. Meg had just tied the last string when a tear dripped down Jane's face.

"Oh, Jane," Meg consoled, sadly looking at her friend's face in the mirror, "You'll be alright... Please, don't cry. It'll be okay in the end..." Many times had Meg used these words, but each time Jane could hear the uncertainty in them.

"I'm not strong enough, Meg," Jane sobbed, trying in vain to stop the flow of tears, "I don't think I could do it by myself... But I couldn't accept your charity, either. I just... I need Erik."

Meg gave Jane a handkerchief, which Jane used to dry her eyes. She took a deep breath and looked at herself in the mirror. These sudden but short bursts of tears had been numerous in the past week. Madame Giry and Meg could easily see that life without Erik was taking its toll on Jane, and they did what they could to help.

I need to stop this, Jane thought to herself, I can't be such a burden anymore. I know I can't completely take care of myself anymore, but I can at least stop crying about Erik. He's not coming back, so why cry about it?

Her mind made up, Jane turned back to Meg. The young dancer smiled and opened the door, and the two friends walked to the stage.

Since she could obviously not dance until the baby was born (though no one but Meg, Madame Giry, and Jane knew about the child), Jane helped a small group of little girls who dreamt of one day becoming famous dancers. Usually Madame Giry took it upon herself to help these young girls, but Jane had taken over the job to give the old instructor more time to work with the real ballerinas.

"But Miss Jane, why can't you dance with the in the corps de ballet with the other women?" a young dancer in training named Charisse asked one day while Jane corrected her arabesque.

"I'm ill," Jane answered, turning away to help little Madeline. Many of these young girls were sisters or daughters of the women in the corps de ballet.

Madeline gave her an appraising look. "You don't look sick, Miss Jane."

Jane took Madeline's left leg in her hand and straightened it until it locked into place. "Well, I am ill, so I won't be able to continue dancing for a while."

"Are you going to go to the ball on New Years Eve?" another girl, Bennett, questioned as Jane walked by.

"I suppose so," Jane murmured softly, "But why are you asking so many questions, petites filles (little girls)? We are supposed to be practicing!" She gave a sigh. No matter how hard she tried, she could never be as firm with the girls as Madame Giry could. The little girlswere too sweet.

Fortunately, the girls did not ask about it any more, and Jane spent the rest of the day teaching them the basic steps. Of course she was in no condition to do them herself, but she always took a volunteer and bent their bodies into position to show the rest of the girls. By the end of the day, she was extremely tired, and glad to retire to her dressing room.

Jane unlaced her dress and corset and slipped into her nightgown, glad to be breathing regularly. She laid down on the bed and was asleep within a minute.

Erik silently opened her mirror and crossed the room to her bedside. With sad eyes he watched her sleep, yearning to crawl in beside her and wrap his arms around her waist. He never watched her in her dressing room during the day; only at night, when she was asleep. However, he always kept an eye on her as she helped the younger dancers, making sure that no harm befell his love.

After all, Erik had thought when he had first decided to watch her, I failed her already, and I shall never do it again, as long as I can help it.

Carefully Erik leaned down and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. His fingers came too close to her mouth, though, and she stirred. Her eyes squeezed shut, then suddenly opened.

Curiously Jane sat up and looked around her dressing room. She felt a strange sensation play about her neck, as though her hairs were unsure of whether to stand on end or not. After rubbing her eyes free of sleep, she was able to focus more on the feeling that someone was there, watching her...

Jane rose from the bed and lit a candle, half-expecting to see Erik standing before her in the darkness, his posture and attitude (not to mention eyes) expressing the great sorrow that she herself felt. Alas, her dressing room was empty, so Jane blew out the small flame and laid back down, falling asleep almost instantly.

Erik let out a great (though inaudible) sigh from the passageway behind Jane's mirror. He was relieved to find that she had not thought to pursue her feelings of being watched, for he was certain that she would have found him.

I... I can't do this anymore, he thought, I shouldn't watch Jane... She doesn't deserve to be stared at all day, by someone she probably hates by now...

Erik sighed again and turned away from Jane's room, wishing he could look back but forcing himself not to. He would wait until the ball, say goodbye to Jane, and then die... just like he should.

Just like a monster should...

Please review! I don't have much more to say, except the next chappy will be much longer, and I'm sooooooo tired... Oh yeah, and HeHe, we are sorta-kinda nearing the end to our fic... Just need to let you guys know...