Thank you all who have so kindly read and reviewed my fan fic. I will try to continue to improve the way I do this, so your reviews are listened to and considered. I am grateful that you appreciate my writing and thank you for taking the time to write me and tell me so. There are so many good ones out there I am honored that you are taking the time to read this journey with me. Thanks to Gaston Leroux, the creator of these characters, and the Susan Kay and ALW protrayals of Erik. They culminate with the supurb acting and renditions of our favorites we have seen on the stage and now, at last the screen. Personally, I picture Gerard Butler, Emmy Rossum and Patrick Wilson, etc... but you may insert whichever cast members are your favorites. There are also some things that disturbed me so I left out of the phantom character as you have no doubt noticed. I figured it is a romance and drama, so I could use poetic license to simply rid myself of the stuff that really grated on me. Hope you forgive me, if you don't let me know, I will consider what you say and perhaps revisit my decision.After all, the point of writingthis is to be read, if you don't like it you won't read it, I will not grow as a writer and the time writing and reading is wasted.I know, Duh... right?Thanks. That said, thank you all again, enjoy. Marykate.

Chapter 17

Discoveries

Raoul was hot to the touch, and he thrashed about grabbing Meg's wrist when she tried to calm him and feel the intensity of his fever. Meg gasped; Phillippe came to her aid immediately, helping to pries her wrist from Raoul's firmly intact grip.

"Oh my God, he is so feverish, should we not do something to cool him down more. He surely cannot survive such a raging fever." Looking around the room, Meg realized that there was no help for Phillippe; this room was in a shambles. She felt so badly for Phillippe, it was always harder on the loved one taking care of the sick person and fretting over the outcome then the person laying there unaware of the enormity of the illness they were suffering. "Phillippe, do you not have anyone helping you with Raoul? Would you like me to stay and help you for a while?"

Phillippe thought long and hard before answering. He was so much older than her; he knew that she was but seventeen and she would not want to become entangled with someone twice her age. God forgive him though, as he desired her from the first moment he saw her bound onto the stage- that night he went reluctantly with Raoul to watch Christine sing for the first time. He was not much of an opera aficionado; preferring to celebrate with the occupants of the Populaire after the performances. Many a night he would sleep through the opera, waiting for the enjoyment he could find discreetly afterwards. Meg was different; she was good and loyal. In fact, you might misread her loyalty and goodness for being simple, something she clearly was not upon further knowledge of her demeanor. Should he let her stay for an extended period of time under his roof without escort that would be conscious at some point, not a good way to keep her innocent and pure for long. He was sure she still was. He measured his words carefully before replying to her question:

"Most honorable Meghan Giry, I wish nothing more than for you to stay. It would be sweet torture to my soul for you to do so; however, I respect you and feel that you should be returning home to the safety of your locked doors before much longer."

"Phillippe, what are you saying? Don't be worried about my safety, for I do not fear getting the fever. As I said before, my mother and I have strong constitutions, and it seems Gina in good health. I am sure she shall be fine. You must have help, no?"

"I have been bereft of any human contact, save that of my fever ravaged brother for three and a half days. Never in that time did I miss it more than I do at this moment, Mademoiselle. I requite myself of all blame if you do not stop looking at me with those beautiful brown eyes. They are windows to such a pure and untarnished soul, you must learn to guard them. I feel that perhaps you feel something of the way I do. Pray not, for if you do it shall be my undoing as well as yours I fear." With that, Phillippe looked away, the words he had just spoken spilling unbidden from his lips. Clearly, this was no way of trying to think things over well before speaking to this innocent. Maybe he should just leave the room now, and spare them the embarrassment of his rising desire. He just could not seem to control himself. He allowed himself to look once more at her, as she was so beautiful and uncomplicated. If Raoul were smart, he would have garnered feelings for her. Meg seemed as though she would be a stable person to be with. She had no previous emotional entanglements, deeming her perfect. He could hardly believe that he was telling her how he felt. That was not like him at all. Maybe he was growing feverish himself. It was bound to happen sooner or later. That was why all the hired help in the de Chagny manor had left. He turned away from her and regained his composure. Turning to look at her, he found her staring back at him, eyes wide and shocked; he smiled a weak smile and mumbled something about being feverish himself, perhaps.

Meg rose and walked slowly over to him; he looked away and felt really awkward about the whole thing. She gently turned his face to her and looked him in the eyes.

"I am so flattered that your attentions are on me, dear Phillippe, however I am waiting for another. I only recently realized how I felt. It was a shocking revelation, really, but nonetheless I am fervently hoping for another's attentions in the not so distant future, God willing. Therefore my great friend Phillippe, if it shall make things easier for you by taking my leave, I shall away. Might I come by with my mother tomorrow, good and gentle Phillippe?"

A myriad of emotions flashed across his face, he was horrified at having tipped his hand in such an intimate manner, embarrassed that he spoke so forward, angry that another had her heart, furious that the fool did not realize what he had in her, deeply pained that he was not the one she felt that way about and jealous at whomever it was she pined for. Love was so fickle and unreasonable, for if it bore reason they would be with who was easiest to fit with, not with what the fickle heart said. He bid her a cool and distant farewell.

As Meg left his house and rode away on Raoul's white horse her heart was in turmoil. She could have loved Phillippe, had she not met Raoul; however she felt much for Raoul and the plight he was undertaking for her deceased friend. She was ready and waiting to comfort Raoul in his mourning when he recovered from his fever and truly realized she was gone. She was sure he would, though if Phillippe declared his feeling for Meg to Raoul, she feared he would not allow things to come to fruition with her. She was terribly disturbed by this new development. How could she thwart Phillippe's advances and feelings while still helping her hearts desire to recover?

Christine and Erik entered the battered yet hauntingly beautiful interior of the Populaire. Erik reached for, found andlit some candles in a candelabra he found at the doorway, he knew where everything was so gas lamps outside the door were all that were necessary to accomplish such a simple task. They walked forward towards the stage both rendered mute by thoughts and memories of their former life, and memories of this prop and that mark on the stage where they were teacher and student for so many years. It was an awkward beginning, most of the first years Christine only wanted to hear and be comforted by her angel of music, so Erik was slow to progress with her talents. He mostly comforted her and protected her from her fears at night with his songs and soft words of consolation. She would go to the chapel where she would pray and talk to her father in fits and starts, crying and pleading for his guidance, he would sit off on the other side of the stained glass window watching her silently and listening to her broken heart, all the while his heart breaking for love of this innocent child who was so alone and miserable. Erik had to begin to console her; he feared she would not last without someone to take the time to let her know she was alive and important.

Erik noticed her beautiful musical voice while she was talking softly to her father in the chapel. He knew then how love and adoration would make her voice the most becoming and inspiring sound the world had ever heard. With age and tutoring from him, he was sure he could create for her a world of acceptance and adoration. If he could not cure her broken heart through his physical presence, he could be her emotional and unseen presence, the angel of music she spoke of. Erik never thought of himself as her sources of joy in those days, merely a vehicle to reclaim pleasure her with life. Truth of it all was that he didn't even feel the consuming desire to possess until he heard her beautiful, strong and alluring rendition of, Elissa in "Hannibal". She transformed his affection for her to a love that he had no idea existed before then. He always felt like her father, no more was that how he looked at her after that night. Erik knew the desire to give and receive, possess and pleasure, as he never even imagined before that night. The opening vocal strength which she exhibited was enough to bring him to his knees and thank God for his angel of music. He could fairly hear "Think of me, think of me fondly…"going through his mind at that moment.

It was time for Erik to leave his memories, gazing at his Christine and smiling a gentle smile at her. Yes, she was worth this stab of pain he felt at the farewell to his opera house, created when creating was the only passion he knew. He now had a greater passion and love then he ever imagined, yes all would be well with Christine by his side.

"Christine, be careful, these floorboards are dangerous. The chandelier went down here, so come to me, and we shall go back to your dressing room this way."

"Erik, I found the mask, they left the mask from "Don Juan Triumphant" where it fell. My God, I was so afraid when I removed the mask. I didn't know what else to do; I knew that if we finished the scene the Gendarme would get you. I feared that you would not go quietly and they would kill you. Erik, I could not let that happen, I didn't know if you would return from the tumultuous emotions we were entangled in, in time to escape. It was almost impossible for me to leave the eroticism you spun. I had to think of something, that was all I could think of to bring you back to what was about to happen. That seemed the only way to save you, Erik. I am so sorry for that, I saw the pain and anguish in your eyes when you looked at me; I wanted to die then and there for hurting you so much. God, the memories, they are like fresh wounds that we have re-injured."

The words were out, Erik considered them carefully, he had rather surmised the scenario already, though it was good to hear from her lips this was so. He gazed at Christine and felt a wave of gratitude and relief surge from deep within him, he quickly regained his composure and said; "Come Christine, lets get out of this dangerous area, we will talk when we are safer, I fear there may be an echo in this room, we don't want people to hear us and come find us."

"Of course your right, how foolish of me, I am so caught up with recriminations it is I who have lost reason. Again Erik, I apologize for my foolishness."

Erik could hear the tears being held at bay in her voice, he came to her and put his arm around her waist, the action comforting enough to move her. They walked carefully back stage and down to Christine's dressing room. The door was intact and had suffered very little damage. They entered the room and Christine sighed heavily. "God Erik, it seems like yesterday…" choking back the tears yet again, Christine wiped a lone tear from her cheek, Erik saw that and felt a rush of guilt for having taken this from her, he didn't know where to begin his apologies.

"Christine, it is I who owe you an apology; I have taken away this…" Erik raised both arms and indicated the Populaire… "You worked so hard for the culmination, your fine performance, and I who claim to love you above all else take it from you. It never occurred to me that I was doing that, I was so insane with jealousy and devastation over Raoul and you that I never considered there was any reason not to destroy everything I had to in an attempt to keep you with me."

Christine looked at Erik as if he was talking another language, missing the point completely. "Erik, I do not mourn for the demise of the Populaire, I mourn the deaths, the loss of my childhood trinkets, the pictures of my father and mother, the life I held in memories. Now they are only memories as the rest is gone. I rely on you to help me to keep my voice going and to be my audience; I may have to see for myself if I have relatives somewhere who have an image of my father. I will miss him most. The rest is just, I don't know, it revolves around you, and I have you Erik. How can I miss the lecherous stage hands and the long nights of dancing? I have the best memories and security with you, my protector, my angel of music that my father promised me so long ago."

Erik smiled at the wall, he knew she was going to be alright, she forgave him his transgressions of the recent past, and surely the others were far enough in the past that there was really no need to visit them ever again.

"Madame Giry, what do you mean, do you understand the meaning of the rose with the ribbon without letter? What does it mean? Who is Erik?"

"Gina child, you ask too many questions of which you are not entitled to an answer yet. In good time you shall know of the meaning, surely you can wait until the explanation is offered, no?"

"Oui, madame, apologies to you for my inquisitive nature. It gets me in trouble often."

"It is getting late, when did Meg say she would be returning?"

"She did not say, madame, shall we wait supper?"

Madame Giry thought about this for a moment, she wanted to go out after supper; "No, we shall eat now, Meg shall eat when she returns."

Just as Mme Giry said this, the door opened, Meg came in with a furrowed brow. "Meg, what has happened child. The Vicomte de Chagny is not dead is he?"

"No, mother, he is very ill and quite hot to the touch. The fever is in its third day's grip. He was hallucinating when I arrived. Mother, Phillippe has no help with Raoul, the servants and his sisters will not come and help him as they are all afraid of catching the fever. The servants all quit. I never heard of such things!"

"That is all too common, I'm afraid. They don't want to get sick. They will not have a job if they are in a house where the master dies, and no one would hire them, knowing they were exposed to Typhoid fever. They had to leave before things were known. They have to make a living too."

"I know Mother, but it is so hard to believe that they would all go like that. What about his sisters. It is their baby brother for Gods sake. They can't help at all."

"They have families as well. Do you really want them to risk their family when they have a brother who is not married and there is no family there to become ill? The two men can fend for themselves. They have sent on packages to him, so I've heard. When he became ill they sent some soup for them. They are doing what they can. We must not judge them."

"Mother, I told Phillippe we would come and visit Raoul and help him a bit tomorrow. Is that alright with you?"

"If you said it, then we must go. You are not going to become a liar. He must need help if he didn't send you away."

"Yes, I fear for Raoul, Mother."

"Very well, child, we shall visit then, tomorrow." Mme Giry could tell there was something Meg was not imparting to her of the situations of that night, though there was no way to get it out of her with Gina present. They would have to talk about it tomorrow.

"Come now, Meg, it is time to sup, we shall talk of simple things and save the conversation for the morrow, very well?"

"Of course, Mother. I shall wash up and join you and Gina. Thank you for waiting supper for me."

"Oh, we really didn't, we were getting ready to sit and eat now, you happened to be wise enough to get back in time. Good wisdom, there, now be off and clean up please."

"Oui, Mother, I shall see you presently." Meg turned and went up the stairs to her room, thinking of Raoul and Phillippe in turn. She could love Philippe, he looked like a more mature version of Raoul, though Raoul would be the one who would need her more, convalescing and bereft without his Christine. He would need her more. Phillippe was a gentleman though. Oh, she really needed to talk to her mother, as Christine was no longer there. That drew a tear from her eye. She missed her dear friend so much.

"Oh Christine, what is it like? Do you know we miss you so much? Gina is not you Christine. She is always going to simply be a chorus girl at best. (Though dancer is not what Meg considers her best subject either) We miss you. God bless you where ever you are.

With that Meg changed, washed and joined them for supper.