They stood for what could have been hours, shouting and whispering threats. It had all become so clear to Erik now, Sara disappearing with a stranger a few nights before, the remaining threats she sent to him before leaving, and the admitting of her love for him which he knew only too well, that love makes you do very stupid things.

All he could do now though, was watch Robard carefully, watch every move he made. One tiny slip up and he would shoot. But he could hit Christine…what could they do?

Robard had backed up, dragging Christine with him, out of the courtyard and down corridors. Erik followed him patiently, always waiting for an opportunity to blast his head. Yet he gave him no such chance, always cleverly masking himself with Christine's body.

Robard would not take the chance at firing at Erik. He had promised the bargain with Sara that he would not touch Erik, yet they had been found out. Now, Erik was in such a rage, if Robard shot, he wasn't sure if Erik would fire back, hitting Christine or not. The bullet would easily fly through her and hit him.

Robard's pace became quicker, and his breathing started to become raged. He moved backwards down the corridors quickly, tripping sometimes, but quickly throwing Christine in front of him.

"Step back!" He screamed, throwing his arm over Christine's shoulder, pointing a shaky hand at Erik. "You are too close, I will shoot!"

Quickly, Christine snapped out of her submissive role. She grabbed his arm and clung to it desperately, as Robard cried out angrily and fired his gun. But Erik had already dodged to the side, missing the bullets by inches.

He tackled Robard, causing Christine to fall to the ground hard. Ignoring the pain, she lifted herself up to see the two men wrestling furiously. Erik was certainly heavier built than the other man, yet Robard seemed to have a hidden strength in his thin frame. They both grasped each others wrists furiously in an attempt to wrench the guns from their grip. Erik finally pushed Robard into the wall of the corridor, and slammed his hands above his head. He smashed his hand holding he gun mercilessly against the hard surface, making him drop the gun in pain.

Erik grabbed him by the throat and pinned him against the wall. He was going to kill him, and not make it fast and painful.

Robard flickered his eyes in lack of air. He chocked a few times, before slumping to the floor as Erik dropped him in pain. Robard had kicked him sharply in the groin area, causing Erik to double over.

Robard stood above him, holding a gun with his trembling hand that he had quickly picked of the floor.

"Nice try, Phantom, but I've won! Once in my life, I have won!"

He laughed as a maniac, before cocking the hammer of his gun and pointing it directly at Erik's head.

Christine screamed as two shots fired through the air. She shut her eyes and felt nausea sweep over her. She felt blood spray over her arms and face from the victim. She sobbed as she heard the body slump to the floor. Her Erik…her angel…

Wait…wasn't Erik already forced to the floor?

She opened her eyes to see a shaken looking Nasih stood above them. He dropped his hands that held his gun outright, and dropped it to the floor. Erik shuffled over to Christine, who felt relief sweep over her in a magnificent form. She sobbed into Erik's chest, and Erik stroked her back and head comfortingly, his form shaking with pain.

"I'm sorry…" He muttered. His voice shook with emotion and, surprisingly to Christine, terror. He had been scared witless, not for his own life, but for Christine's.

Nasih bent down over them both. He seemed out of breath and was shaking slightly.

"Are you hurt?"

Christine stood up quickly, trying to help Erik up. It was terribly alarming to see the dark stain near his chest grow bigger, and his breaths were becoming shallower.

"I'm ok, Nasih, but Erik's hurt! Help me!" She said hysterically. Nasih made to help, yet looked over his shoulder quickly.

"Listen, your not out of trouble yet…some maids heard the commotion…and well…they've broke their promise of secrecy…Master…"

Erik looked down at him as he was helped to his feet. He looked at him with deep concern.

"Nasih? What is it?"

Nasih seemed on the verge of panic. Surprisingly, and alarmingly, he gave Erik and Christine a look of pity.

"Sir…the police have surrounded the house…the call was just a panic alarm for a burglary, but when they described who lived here…well sir, they know its you…it seemed the Parisian police have alerted them of your…actions in France…and…"

Nasih trailed off. Christine had slumped into Erik's form in silent tears. Erik was clinging to Christine desperately.

"Erik…" She muffled into his chest. "Erik…what are we going to do? You…you will be caught!"

Erik didn't answer. Today was the day. Today was the day he would finally fall from his steps ahead of authority. If the police had surrounded the grounds, there was no way of escape. This was his judgement day. He had lived to save Christine only to sacrifice himself.

He moved silently away from Christine, pulling himself out of her grip.

"Where are you going?" She cried, tears streaming her beautiful skin. He did not stop walking, even when she screamed his name, even when she ran and clung to his arm, unsuccessfully trying to stop him.

"NO, NO, NO! ERIK STOP!" She screamed hysterically. "You can't, you can hide in here…Me and Nasih will go!"

"Don't you think they will search the house?" He roared back. She stumbled back from his outburst. "They know I'm here, Christine…I can't run from this…Christine..."

She ran once more into his arms, and savoured each moment she could. She could feel his large form trembling, and she felt her heart quiver to know he knew fear.

"I love you…I love you so much…I cannot live without you!" She whispered. He shushed her softly, entwining his fingers in her curls.

She jumped as she heard a crowd of voices down the hallway. Her eyes widened, and she gripped Erik's shirt tightly, in a mad hope she would never part from him, and it would be impossible for anyone to prise them apart.

The noise came closer, and she sobbed quietly into his chest.

In her last moments of sanity, she felt the warm of Erik's body being ripped from her own cruelly. She let out a blood curling scream, as she witnessed what seemed like hundreds of men dragging Erik down the corridor away from her. He wriggled to turn back and look at her, and his voice was the last thing she heard before she fainted with shock.

"Nasih, take care of her!"

>--

Christine woke fully to loud shouts and noises. She shook her head groggily, and looked around the room. She had never been in this room before. She didn't recognise anything apart from the sleeping form of Nasih on a couch on the other side of the room.

She was suddenly fully awake, her heart filling with agonising loss and confusion. She ran to the open window to see crowds of people in a large city in front of her. It seemed like a bigger city than that of Shiraz, where Erik's house was. It was hot and bustling, full of markets and people.

Christine ran over to Nasih and shook him unkindly. He woke, opening his eyes slowly due to the brightness of the room. She ignored his mumbling.

"Nasih, where's Erik? And where are we? Nasih!"

"Whoa, Christine…" Nasih sat up and rubbed his eyes. Christine kept plucking at his shoulder till he answered. "We're in Tehran, capital of Persia."

"And Erik?" She said, almost hysterically. Nasih sighed.

"Prison."

Christine slumped onto the couch with Nasih in defeat. She put her hands over her face and Nasih put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"You've been out cold for a long time. You woke up a few times, yet not with senses."

Christine did recall some memory of waking in a carriage, having a cloth applied to her head, and hushed and worried voices over her babbling.

"Is the prison near?"

Nasih nodded his worried head. "Yes, that's why I brought you…" He didn't finish his sentence due to Christine's sobs. Nasih couldn't do anything but let her carry on her grieving. No one deserved this amount of pain, especially two lovers who had been united once more, only to be cruelly wrenched from each other again. He felt his heart breaking.

He lifted her head softly and wiped her tears away. Her eyes didn't focus on him at all, until he muttered something out of his emotion riddled voice.

"Ill take you to him, Christine."

>--

Erik hadn't struggled. He allowed the heavily armed men to push him roughly into a large carriage, which was locked from the outside. Men rode back and front of the carriage, guarding his every escape. Even if he could break down the door, he would almost certainly be shot. He wasn't going to take his chances of not seeing Christine again.

After what seemed a life time, the carriage came to a halt. He had been sweltering in the carriage, as it was a mid day sun pounding into the tiny barred windows. He felt dizzy as the large men dragged him out into the sun light, only to be shoved back into darkness.

The prison was not a nice place. Erik could hear screams and pleas echoing around as he passed each cell. Men threw out their arms to the prison guards who cruelly knocked their hands back.

Erik was thrust into the furthest cell to the back. It was damp and hot, with a small dirty mattress on the sodden floor, and a broken sink. The smell was unbearable, and the darkness was hard to adjust to, although Erik had been accustomed to the darkness before, and his eyes adjusted clearly.

He slid down the wall onto the mattress, and put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He pawed at the black mask he had worn for that supposed special evening with Christine. His skin was sticky and itchy under it, yet he refused to take it off. There was no privacy in this prison, everyone could see into each others cell. Erik's cell, which he was thankful for, was in shadow, and so hid him from sight from the others.

All Erik could think about was Christine. What danger he had put her in, what danger laid ahead for her without him by her side. His fist shook, and he trembled with anger. He wished he could have been the one to shoot Robard. He wouldn't have just shot him, he would have pulled every tooth and nail from his body one by one and left him hanging by his neck, with his insides pouring from him slowly.

Suddenly awakening from his bloodthirsty dream, a shadow stood at the bars of his cell. Erik stood up, and walked slowly towards it. It was a man, pleasantly dressed, and blatantly not from the Middle East. His once white skin was red around his cheeks and nose, and his handlebar moustache twitched uncomfortably in the Persian heat. He was almost half of Erik's height, and Erik towered over his frame, making him step back slightly from the bars.

"Bonjour, Monsieur." He spoke in French. Erik didn't react, fixing him with an icy stare. The small man coughed nervously. "As spokes person for the Parisian Operative Army and Police force, I have come to…explain the situation you have found yourself in."

Again, no response.

"Well, sir, we are most grateful, in fact, for the capture of George Robard. We were alerted of his intentions by a friend of yours I understand, Madame Giry? Well…again sir, a good capture and service you have paid to the police. Yet…"

Ahh, there it was. Nothing would ever amount to the debt he had to pay back.

"…your…charade in Paris has not made you a popular man, Monsieur. The penalty for the deaths caused by yourself…carries the death penalty."