Readers...

Thanks again for inviting me into your lives. I may or may not write an epilogue to this.

I'm considering writing another POTO fic...but it depends on how badly you guys want it...

This was great fun for me to write...and I hope you find the finale as touching as I hope it was.

Thank you all so very, very much!

Be well,

Nico


Erik watched Christine as she slept, her breath coming in even, undisturbed levels. He allowed his fingertips to graze her bare shoulder, running down her back.

Christine moved in her sleep, a smile spreading her face just slightly.

He still couldn't believe that she was here; that she was his. After the horrors of the previous night, Erik had taken Christine back to his home, soothing her with words of love and eternity. She had listened, received his kisses, and placed the entire core of her being into trusting him.

Erik's happiness was plagued by one, terrible thought that would not escape him, no matter how he tried.

While he was blessed (cursed?) with immortality, Christine was not.

She would age and wither, eventually leaving him again to his grief.

The thought shook him to his very soul, which had seemingly returned in exchange for the absence of his scars.

Christine's eyes suddenly fluttered open, meeting Erik's, which were damp with tears.

"Erik?" Christine asked, confused. "What's wrong?"

Erik shook his head, willing the tears back into the recess of his mind. "Nothing, my love," he whispered, leaning to drop a tender kiss at the base of her throat. "Nothing."

"You say so," Christine whispered back, running her hand up through his hair as he kissed the swan-like column of her neck. "But I think it is your biggest pretend."

Erik lifted his head to look at her.

"What is troubling you, my love?" Christine asked softly.

Erik considered the question. Never before had he been in a situation which demanded his utmost honesty.

The idea that he now slept beside the one person who did not need him to guard himself was a foreign one…

And it frightened him.

"Christine," Erik began, licking suddenly dry lips. "I cannot bear to lose you again."

Christine smiled. "You needn't have that fear," she replied, pulling his head gently to hers, kissing him gently.

Erik indulged in the kiss; he would never grow tired of the taste of her. "But I will," he said breathlessly, placing his forehead to hers. "Life is so short; I fear that just as I begin to feel as if I have you forever, you will be gone again…"

Christine's brows furrowed. "Where would I go?" She asked.

Erik merely stared at her, his saddened eyes speaking of the eternity that is death.

Christine understood at once. She nodded cryptically.

"Perhaps it is time, then," she said, rising nude from the silken sheets she and her lover had mussed during hours of lovemaking.

Erik watched with intense curiosity as Christine padded over to the far wall of the bedchamber, pulling from the wall a long, sharp sword.

She swung it at the air a few times, in mock battle.

Erik smiled despite himself.

Christine stopped swinging and motioned for him to rise from the bed as well.

"Have you not noticed, Erik?" She asked as he walked towards her. Erik regarded her, confused.

"Noticed what?" He asked.

Christine motioned to her face. "Carlotta hit me," she pointed to the corner of her mouth. "Here."

Erik nodded, remembering.

"Yet, there is no scar…no mark…no bruise," Christine continued.

Erik moved closer, lifting her chin with his forefinger and thumb, inspecting the perfectly formed skin around Christine's mouth.

"I realized it last night; I got up to use the bathroom," Christine continued. "And there is more."

Quickly, before Erik could stop her, Christine raised the sword and brought it to her palm, slicing the blade across her palm, wincing as bright red blood began to pour from the wound.

"Christine!" Erik exclaimed, moving to pull her wounded hand towards him. "What have you…"

"Shhh," Christine cooed. "Watch."

She held her hand out to him, palm up.

Before his eyes, the wound began to twist and grow, sealing and healing with even faster speed than Erik himself healed.

In less than thirty seconds time, Christine's palm was restored to perfection.

Erik ran his thumb over her palm. "How is this possible?" He whispered.

Christine shrugged. "I don't know," she replied. "But I'm guessing for the same reason your face has been healed." She lay her repaired palm against Erik's smooth cheek. "Your love," she said softly, "has made me whole."

Erik pulled her into his arms, emotions overwhelming him.

She was his.

Forever.

"There is more, Erik," Christine said, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

Erik released her, looking at her quizzically.

"There has been another side effect of your love," she confessed, lowering her eyelids and taking his hand in hers…

and placing it on her stomach lightly.

Erik jerked his head up, looking at her with wide eyes. "A child?" He rasped, his throat tight with emotion.

Tears spilled over Christine's cheeks as she nodded. "A child," she confirmed. "A tiny miracle that is both you and I."

Erik fell to his knees, embracing Christine's legs, weeping.

"I love you," he murmured, pulling her into his lap. "I love you…"

"For eternity," Christine added, kissing him gently.


Eternity it seems

Stems from our dreams…

Don't wait for forever…

And never say never…

For our ends find the means

To exist in our dreams. Nico