a/n: i am so so so so so so so so so so sorry! I had planned on having the chapter up so long ago, but then a family trip and a really crappy computer took that chance away! I am so so sorry!

quantuminferno: thanks:)

Bastet Starwind: lol... thank you... i think... j/k, thanks a bunch:)

Crimson Rose to Ebony: yes... i would agree... but you are also right that things are just one big mystery...

Jaded Sapphire: thanks. I was trying to give other people a chance to do things...

Lize Radcliffe: lol, thank you:)

inkie pinkie: thanks:hug:

phantomfreak258: i know how that is with the review thing... neways, thanks for the great review, happy you've been reading:)

Loser : lol, kk, here's more!

RAOUL POV

I woke up screaming. To be correct, I woke up along with half the house, screaming. I tossed and turned all night, with pictures of him in my head. I don't know why I was screaming, but Philippe heard me at the other side of the house in his study. He said that he didn't want to wake me up this morning because I was home and in bed so late, and so he let me sleep through breakfast. I never would have known had he not told me.

Now I sit at the table, lunchtime already, and watch as his eyes dodge to me, discreetly, but I still notice. I sigh into a mouthful of toast.

"What is it?" I demand.

"Brother?" he acts innocent.

"Drop it," I growl, "You've been avoiding my glance when I look at you, but you'restaring when I'm not looking at you."

"You're paranoid, I have not done any such thing!" he screams across the table. Some of the servants scurry from the room.

I slam my hands down on the table and stand up, "If you insist on playing this game, then learn to play it without me here!"

I storm from the table, fuming. If he would just admit it I would have no problem, but he is always trying to dodge these things, especially when they have to do with me!

I slam the door to my room and lock it, and realize how childish I'm being. Right now I really don't care. How dare he? He is always so childish, thinking that if he denies something it will be as though nothing has happened!

I sit on my bed and pick up the book I had been pretending to read last night. Opening to my bookmark I start to read.

It describes something much like my life, a man who wants nothing of the fame he has, and only wishes to be with the woman he loves. The only difference I find between us is that he loves a woman, and I love a man. This is something I find myself ashamed of. A man should not love another man!

I place my book down again and take out some parchment and start to write.

After ten tries I finally get the note to sound like it should:

Phantom,

It has come to my attention now that our tragic little feelings towards each other, which some call love, is very inappropriate. I should ask that we not meet again. My greatest apologies for anything I have done improper.

Raoul

As I read through the note I find my mind ease, but my heart breaks.

I walk down stairs, past my servants, straight to the door, and out to the stables. I saddle my prized white horse and ride swiftly to the opera house.

Leaving my horse to the stable master I walk in and go to the room where few dare tread, Box 5.

Unfortunately, I run into him.

He turns around, annoyed again with my presence, and comments, "You are not one to knock, are you?"

I sigh, "I did not expect to find you here, there is not a performance is there?"

"No," he agrees, "but I can watch them practice, can I not?"

I shrug, "It's not harming anyone."

He turns back, "No, it's not."

I walk to his side and drop the note in his lap, "I came to give you this. Good bye."

ERIK POV

The way he says 'good bye' seems so final. As he opens the door and leaves I quickly tear the note open and read.

The words tear a hole in my heart.

How could he say that? I know he cares about me, right?

It doesn't matter to me. It shouldn't! The petty words of a Vicomte, they mean nothing.

Then how come they hurt so much?

I take the note and crush it in my hand. Opening my passageway I quickly slam it shut and storm my way back to the hell that I call home. Stopping half way there, fury rising in me to the point of pain, I slam my fist into the wall. Looking down there is blood running from my fingers. I laugh. And slowly the laughter becomes tears. It does hurt, but that's not why I'm crying. The pain in my hand is nothing compared to the pain in my heart. I heave these lonely sobs; slowly falling against the wall and letting myself fall to the floor. Once reaching the lowest level I stop falling and I cry into my arms, the tears stinging as they drift over my wound. This is silly, though. I am the Opera Ghost, I shouldn't be crying over something so small! Slowly my sadness turns to anger and hate, so strong that my instincts as a killer kick in. I tear a small dagger from my belt and look at it. The silence and cold of the metal seem so inviting. I roll up the sleeve of my shirt and stare at my wrist. I don't worry, I barely bleed at all, no living blood runs through my cold, lifeless, body.

I take the dagger and slowly bring it down my wrist, cutting a straight line, slightly curved out at the bottom, that is perpendicular to my wrist. I then curve another cut around at the top and then a line that goes down to the inside of my wrist, completing a perfect "R". I take my dagger into the other hand and look at my free wrist. Solemnly I cut the shape of a rose into this wrist, and then watch the blood drain from my body. I feel myself slowly drift into the peaceful sleep that follows.

MADAME GIRY POV

As practice ends I hear a loud slam from up in Box 5. Something has angered Erik. Not delaying in my investigation of his annoyance I leave the girls and quickly stride my way to Box 5.

Reaching the top I knock, and when no one answers I open the door. There is no one here. Knowing better than to just leave, I press on the walls until one gives way, leading down to Erik's layer, one of his many hidden paths.

Quietly and carefully making my way down, I watch, as the light grows stronger from around a corner. And then further down I hear sobs. Starting to run I abruptly stop when they stop, and resume walking, though at a slower pace.

Half way down I see what I have dreaded to see all my life: Erik, lying in a pool of blood, out cold. He is not dead; his breaths are slow and uneven, but still there. I realize the blood is his own.

Diving to his side, a whisper to him, "Erik? Erik!"

He is too far-gone to hear me. I pray that I have found him in time.

Tearing the bottom of my dress off, I calmly take one of his wrists and clean off the blood that flows from it, slowly flowing now. I see an "R" carved into it, very precise. Oh, God, it can't be! I take another piece of my skirt and wrap it tightly around his wrist, cutting off the blood flow.

I then do the same process to his other wrist, which has a rose carved into it instead.

As I finish I lift him slightly, with just enough strength to get him out of the blood. Laying him back down on drier ground, I gently stroke the hair from his face.

Then a voice calls out, "Mother?"

Meg! She followed me.

Seeing no other choice then to reveal what has happened, I call back to her, "Here, Meg, I'm here!"

As she runs around the corner she stops dead at the sight of the Opera Ghost, his head in my lap, and me gently caressing him.

"Mother?" she kneels down, "What has happened?"

She knows that Erik and I are good friends. She is the only other person, other than Raoul and myself that know that I saved Erik, "He is injured. Is the Vicomte still here?"

She looks at me confused, "Of course, he's with the managers."

"Go get him, and tell him that it is Christine that is hurt, he will come. Lead him back here," she nods and runs off.

It's only a few moments of silence before I hear rushed footsteps. I watch as the Vicomte turns the corner and stops dead, much like Meg did before, at the sight he sees.

"I thought Christine was the injured one," he growls, slightly out of breath.

"I knew you wouldn't come unless I sent her with that message," I explain, "besides, if nothing else I want you to see one thing before you walk away."

I quickly and carefully undo the bandage over Erik's one wrist and reveal the "R". He looks at it in disbelief and I comment, "The other wrist he cut a rose into. Now, if you would be so kind, I need to get him to his home."

Raoul, thank God, does help, and as he gently picks up Erik's lifeless body I see a tear flow down his cheek. I pity the young man, though I would like to know why Erik would take such drastic measures.

"Monsieur," he looks at me, "I know this man, and I know he would not do something like this without an extremely good reason. What is happening?"

The words cause his throat to choke when he tries to talk, "Madame, I couldn't go on loving another man. It isn't right for two men to love each other. I was simply trying to put an end to it."

I sigh, "Erik does not take heartbreak well, as you can see."

"His name is Erik?" he asks.

"Yes, that is what he told me," I look at his lifeless face, "I have raised him like a son, though he could very well be as old as me, though I doubt that from his youthful strength."

Raoul takes the hand from under Erik's neck and cups his head gently. This boy is in love, whether he feels it's right or not.

Reaching Erik's home I lead Raoul along the stone pathway and then to the swan bed, not daring to try and find Erik's real room.

Maternal instincts kick in and I rush off to grab some water and actual bandages. I find the Vicomte close on my tail.

"Please, what can I do to help?" he insists.

"Go," I answer, motioning to Erik, "Stay with him, by his side. If we're lucky he might be conscious in the next twenty four hours."

"And if not, what then?" he insists.

"Well," I turn away, "we won't have to worry about him forgiving anyone."

He will die, is what I really mean to say, but I refuse to use the word "death", Erik would not like it.

Raoul moves back to Erik's side, takes Erik's hand, and lowers his head. I see his shoulders start to shake in heart wrenching sobs.

Quickly finding everything I need I move back to Erik and tend to his wounds.

Sitting back I look to Raoul, "And now we wait."

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