Oh wow, you guys I can hardly believe this is my last chapter. Don't get me wrong I can think of at least another half a dozen Erik and Christine misadventures but…I think I'm just going to leave them where they are for now…

I would like to thank everybody for all the encouragement and feedback, I can't tell you guys how much it helps…(happy tears)

This chapter is dedicated to Barb (my very happy-go-lucky editor who has never-ending patience (and is just plain awesome)

Thanks for everything everybody, enjoy the chapter and please review!

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Erik soon lost consciousness once more and as his eyes closed yet again, Christine would have gladly cried out in agony but instead her eyes gazed intently on the hand that still held her and had yet to go limp. She remained at his side, refusing to rest for fear when she awoke his hand would no longer grasp her own and she would be alone…

Days.

Weeks.

Christine wasn't sure how many of them had passed exactly. Her time was filled with endless consciousness until Madame Giry or Meg urged she bathe or eat, insisting that if she were to help Erik's wounds heal that she, too would need to keep up her strength. Often too weak to protest, she would allow them to lead her through a series of forced meals and short periods of sleep.

Erik himself was becoming more and more alert as they days passed. He rarely spoke but when he did it was only to Christine, assuring her that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon as long as she was by his side.

One evening, after several days lacking sleep, Christine dozed off to a restless slumber. She awoke sometime later to find the small array of candles that she had lit earlier had been extinquished and the darkness scared her.

Reaching over to Erik's bedside, Christine became boarderline hysterical when she found him missing. Frenzied thoughts ran through her mind as she wondered where he might possibly be. Frantically, she sprang from her seat beside his bed and dashed to the door, tripping on her skirts as she ran.

"Erik?" she called out into the dark, awaiting his reply but heard none and instantly began worrying her dread increased.

"Erik! Erik where are-"

"No need to damage your voice with all that yelling, my dear," whispered a voice from just behind her.

Christine jumped in surprise but instantly she threw her arms around Erik and embraced him fiercely.

"Erik, what are you doing up? You should be resting." she said as they pulled apart, noticing his fresh clothes.

His only response was a shrug, but his arms still remained around her own. "Perhaps you are right my dear, but I fear if I spend another moment in that bed I may go mad."

He smiled at her then, sadly but comfortably in an attempt to soothe her of her anxiety. She did not seem appeased however, so he gently took her hand in his own and led her silently to the organ, which had grown cloudy with dust from its lack of use.

"Sing for me, he commanded gently as he sat upon the bench, stretching his fingers in preparation for the exercise.

Christine sighed and crossed her arms over her chest in silent protest, but the moment Erik began to play her heart filled itself with that sweet melody of his and soon the splendor enveloped her soul and she couldn't resist the ache inside that urged her to sing to it.

Think of me
think of me fondly,
when we've said goodbye.
Remember me
once in a while -
please promise me
you'll try.

When you find
that, once
again, you long
to take your heart back
and be free -
if you
ever find
a moment,
spare a thought
for me

We never said
our love
was evergreen,
or as unchanging
as the sea -
but if
you can still
remember
stop and think
of me . . .

Think of all the things
we've shared and seen -
don't think about the things
which might have been . . .

Think of me,
think of me waking,
silent and
resigned.
Imagine me,
trying too hard
to put you
from my mind.

Recall those days
look back
on all those times,
think of the things
we'll never do -
there will
never be
a day, when
I won't think
of you . . ."

Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade.
They have their seasons. So do we.
But please promise me that sometimes
you will think of me!

The final notes of the songs echoed around them for a few moments before Christine moved to settle down beside her Erik. They sat in somber silence, the only contact between them was the hand that they held. Erik affectionately stroked her fingertips, causing a shiver to radiate throughout her body.

"Are you cold?" he looked up, worried by her reaction. But she only smiled, then gently wrapped her arms around Erik and held him close. He responded by pulling her closer and burrowing his face in the crook of her neck and inhaling the sweet scent of her hair.

"Marry me."

Christine pulled away, unsure she had heard him correctly. Erik mistook her reaction as a response of disgust and rose from the bench to avoid her confused gaze. Furious with himself for even making such an unrealistic request, he ruffled his hand through his hair and closed his eyes to flee from the shame.

"Forgive me, Christine. That was nothing more than the foolish dream of a delusional man, he told her dejectedly, unaware that Christine had also arisen from her seat and had been steadily walking towards him during his frantic explanation.

"Perhaps I have truly gone mad after all," he whispered under his as Christine continued to approach him.

"Love is nothing more than refined madness," Christine defended as she rested her hand on his shoulder. "And I know you love me."

He turned to face her then and she wrapped her arms around his neck. "And I would love nothing more than to be your wife, Erik."

The couple heard little else beside their own laughter as Erik lifted her from the ground and spun her around in a whimsical fashion. But that lasted only a short moment before Christine insisted he stop before he hurt himself.

"It doesn't matter!" he laughed joyously. "Nothing matters as long as I have you, " he added, leaning in to claim her lips.

"And you always will."

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The Search for The Fantôme continues

Foreword By: Delmar Florismart

Article published by: Le Courrier de Mantes

Citizens of Paris grow weary as the updates on the search of the Phantom grow fewer and farther between. It has been nearly a month since the mad apparition's escape, and Mademoiselle Christine Daaé has grown so distraught that adopted family has insisted she leave the Opera Populiare before her nerves overwhelm her. The managers and staff of the famous opera house were very distraught to release Miss Daaé from her contract, but were given the circumstances. This reporter, along with several other upstanding journalists, attempted to interview Miss Daaé but the Prima Donna had already left the premises and is reportedly staying with relatives in the country.

As of late there have been several "sightings" of the infamous Phantom, along many other strange occurrences surrounding the Opera Populaire, one of the most recent oddities being that the newly appointed Prima Ballerina, Marguerite Giry, and an unidentified man were seen two nights ago hiring a carriage. The young dancer did not return until the following day, interestingly enough the same day Christine Daaé publicly announced her retirement from the Opera Populaire. Police have very little else to offer other than insisting that their investigation is currently remains active and that perhaps Mlle. Christine Daaé's decision was for the best….