A/N: Thank you all for the reviews! No Erik in this chapter BUT Erik in the next… I promise!

AngelofMusic: Thank you again for your lovely reviews. My take on Madame Giry and Erik's relationship is always around the same point. That they are friends… sometimes I develop that sometimes I don't but I think that she is a key character.

Spike: Thank you for the reviews! I am updating constantly. This chapter actually has two versions, the other is totally different. This one works better.

Amber: The ending of chapter 11 was meant exactly the way you have imagined. I think he was there to see his friend and that he knew how she must be feeling, after all he knows her perfectly, does he not? Thank you for the compliments on Chapter 12, I was worried how it might turn out… thank you again!

Modesty: lol 'that's what they ALL say;'' hehe, thank you for the review. FanFic finally let me review your story too! Very good might I add. Thank you once again for your review!

'Help me say goodbye' –Christine Daae, Phantom of the Opera.

Chapter 13- A situation.

'Where can I find him?' Christine asked, through a shield of phlegm. She hadn't cried but all of the outward signs were there, all of those signs except for the tears. Her voice was croaky, her heart was pumping, her eyes were sore.

'You can't,' Madame Giry replied, they were still facing each other and had been for what seemed like an eternity. The mantel clock chimed, it was early evening and the night was beginning to set in.

'You tell me all of this! You tell me… about… Oh God,' She fell back on her seat, gripping the arm of the chair, her mails digging in. She wasn't going to lose her composure. 'You tell me all, yet you won't tell me what I truly wish to know!'

'He doesn't want to see you,' Madame Giry replied, calm and composed. Cold as ever. The brief moment of understanding that had past between them was long gone and there she stood, staring down at the youth, sympathy rapidly evaporating.

'You lie,' Christine choked. 'He left me a rose.'

'Yes, I know, I saw it,' she said, stepping back without taking her eyes away from Christine. 'That doesn't mean that he wishes to see you.'

'Please…' Christine said, tears finally building under her eyelids. 'The rose…'

'He left you many roses Christine, you paid no mind to them.'

'Madame,' she began but stopped. Madame Giry walked to the door and opened it, looking back over to Christine.

'I think you should go to your husband,' she said, firmly. It was not a suggestion, it was an order. Christine dropped her head into her hands and sobbed quietly but Madame remained unmoved, still propping the door open with her arm.

'I just want to say…' she said, wiping a tear from under her eye with the back of her hand. She glanced at Madame Giry, 'I want to tell him how sorry I am.'

'You will ruin him again?' The ballet mistress asked and stepped away from the door to take the seat next to Christine. She slid her arm over her shoulders in a half hug.

'That isn't what I want,' she said, leaning into Madame Giry.

'Then let it be,'

'I… I can't.'

'He is mending, Child,' Madame Giry said. 'It is slow but he is mending. Don't be the undoing of that.'

'I don't want to undo anything,' Christine whispered.

'Then don't,' Giry said, quickly. Christine glanced at her, wiping her eyes again.

'I have to see him, this won't end, it won't go away.' She said. 'He needs to hear what I have to say.'

'No you need him to hear it,' Madame Giry snapped.

'Yes,' Christine sniffed. 'Perhaps I do but is that so wrong?'

'Wrong enough,' she said.

'Why are you so adamant, Madame?' Christine growled, finding her anger. 'Do you want him for yourself?' Madame Giry stared at her, indifferent. 'Then he is yours! I only want him to know that I'm sorry, you may have him … if he will have you!'

Madame Giry watched her for a moment before standing slowly and lifting the poker from beside the mantel and prodding the coals with it gently. She glanced back at Christine, who was glaring at her and she smiled. Then the smile melted into a laugh, which rocked her from the inside, the ballet mistress laughed hysterically as Christine sat watching. The flames bounced around the room to the rhythm of Madame Giry's laughter and Christine suddenly felt very small.

'You're a naïve fool, Christine de Changy,' she finally managed to say, as the laughter slowly subsided. 'I am no liar, Erik is my friend, my true friend and I won't see him damaged by you again…'

Madame Giry had no chance to finish what she was saying as the door burst open and Meg bounded in, followed by Philippe de Changy. Meg was in mid sentence about the visitor wanting to ask about the new chorus before she spotted Christine and ground to a halt, pursued by Philippe. They both glanced from the Madame to Christine, whose red face, tear stained cheeks and blood shot eyes were a telling story.

'Christine,' Meg said, running to her friend and pulling her close. 'What on earth is wrong?'

Christine said nothing, not through ignorance but rather the fact that she was staring at Philippe, who was looking less than impressed at the spectacle before him. She opened her mouth to speak but he raised his hand to her and turned his gaze to Madame Giry.

'Dare I ask?' he said, perfect eloquence as ever, even through his obvious anger. Madame Giry shook her head and was about to speak before he stopped her and began again. 'This wouldn't have anything to do with the hanging today, would it?'

Madame Giry shot Christine a glance and Christine shook her head from side to side but it was not enough. Philippe's jovial disposition was nowhere to be seen, his face was almost purple with rage as he visibly swallowed his anger.

'I will see Raoul,' he said and ignored the protests of the women in the room. 'Your lover warrants so much emotion yet you spend no time with my brother today.'

'Philippe, he is not my lover!' Christine cried but he glared at her.

'Is not Christine?' He spat. 'What is the matter? Can you not accept that he is dead?'

'You've got it so wrong,' she said. 'I love Raoul.'

'You love Raoul do you?' he said. 'You love Raoul and despise the monster yet were not near us at the hanging today?' He stepped towards Christine, who cowered back into her seat. 'Couldn't face it?'

'It wasn't…'

'Shut up,' he snapped. 'And to think I was beginning to like you, you pathetic child. I hope you meet your lover in hell… because it will not be until hell freezes over that you get my brothers assets.'

'Enough,' said Madame Giry. 'Comte De Chagny you should be ashamed of yourself. Jumping to conclusions and running at the mouth in someone else's home.'

Philippe glanced at Christine once more before drifting back to look at Madame Giry, who was standing tall as she always did with an air of authority even the gentleman was respectful of.

'Indeed,' he said, gently. 'I spoke truly out of turn.' He stepped towards the ballet mistress and took her hand, bowing to kiss it softly. 'I apologise for my inconsideration.'

'Thank you,' Madame Giry said, bowing her heads slightly.

'I will be leaving,' he said, backing away towards the door. 'Please forgive me, Madame. Perhaps we shall take lunch tomorrow at the Opera house and discuss the plans for the future of the chorus?'

'Yes,' Madame Giry said, following him to the door. 'I have some ideas that I would like to discuss with you.'

'Then tomorrow,' he said and smiled, dashing. 'Good night Madame, Goodnight Madamoiselle.' He said, to Antoinette and Meg but ignoring Christine and with that he left, as Madame Giry clicked the door shut behind him.

'Well,' she said as she walked back into the living room. 'It appears we have a situation.'