A/N: I hope that this chapter doesn't disappoint anyone too much.

Queensarah: I whole heartedly agree with the sentiments about light and dark. Erik's love for Christine IS simple. So simply it's confusing! As for your other questions, keep reading…

Kaledena: Thank you for the review, It is sadder and, sorry, getting sadder… please read and review.

Elektra: And here, as you requested, is more… thanks for the review!

Ahomelesspirate: I hope you like this chapter… I really do… I've tried not to make it too obvious.

Read and review xx

Chapter 47- Henry

Henry slipped into the dark living room, his sword hanging in his hand and shadows reaching for his wide shoulders. He leant against the wall and tried to take in a mouth full of oxygen but oddly he was too out of breath to try. As his cool, grey- blue eyes focused on the dull light in the room, he glanced at the fire and the over to the Phantom who was sitting in his chair staring at him. He squeezed the sword in his hand, its comfort dashed through his body.

His eyes swept away from the phantom and around the room, to the blood by his feet, on the wall and to the smoke pouring from the oven in front of him. Slowly he dragged his eyes back to the phantom. The phantom of the opera who was not dead, who had not hung at the gallows all those months ago, who Christine had rescued.

The man wearing a white mask, hiding the side of his face which was, he was reliably informed, horribly disfigured from birth. His hair was jet black, blacker than anything Henry had ever seen before and his eyes were a sharp blue, in this light they were a smoky blue.

Erik stared at Henry, his eyes taking in the reality of the situation. Henry was a tall man, especially when he was holding a sword and standing while Erik was seated. He was staring back at him. Erik realised that the blue in Henry's eyes was more prominent in the dark.

Perhaps Henry liked the dark too.

It was obvious to Erik now that they had found him and they had found Christine and that now, if she wasn't dead already, she would soon be killed. Erik was sure that he would also be killed, in fact, that was no doubt in his mind at all except for the tiny hope that he would get to Christine in time.

The sight of Henry in front of him had finally confirmed all of his fears.

Their time was up.

Henry scowled and stepped forward, rolling the handle of his weapon in his hand as he moved slowly towards his goal. It was the lack of coldness in Erik's eyes that stopped him in his place, the look of pure sadness then covered his face, replaced the ice that so many had said existed.

Henry was unsure what to do now, he had not been prepared to deal with this, not even in his wildest dreams had he realised that it would eventually come to this. Henry knew that outside the guards had taken hold of Christine and that soon Philippe would be joining them.

Philippe was not far away now and he was getting closer. There had been strict instructions that Christine was to be left to him and him alone but they had said nothing about the phantom. Apparently, the phantom was 'fair game', if anyone actually had the guts.

When Henry's eyes met again with Erik's he felt all of his past feelings build up in his body to give him the strength to do what he needed to do. Every hope, fear and moment of anger flooded his veins and compelled him forward towards the unarmed phantom.

Erik stared at him and before he noticed it, or could stop it, a tear rolled from his eye and fell to the floor. It seemed to happen in slow motion.

All of that blood, all over the room and then there was Henry, drawing closer.

When Henry was but a few steps away he stopped and took one more look into Erik's eyes before he collapsed forward in anguish and pain.

Erik reached out and cushioned Henry's fall, gathering him up as he too dropped to his knees. Blood poured from Henry's side, gushed down his body, staining the floor and Erik's clothes. The blood was warm and damp, it felt sticky as it seeped through Erik's shirt and onto his skin.

When Henry tried to breath, oxygen caught in his throat and he spluttered on
air but he finally found the energy to let Erik see his face, to look into
his eyes.

'I'm sorry,' he gasped, coughing as he struggled to get the words out. 'I was too late.'

'Christine...' Erik mumbled, almost begging for an answer, any answer.

'They...' he panted, fighting for life. 'She... alive. Philippe... not here yet... Erik...'

Erik glanced down and saw Henry blink his eyes closed and then force them open again, the effort in his breathing was obvious.

'Erik…' he gasped again. Erik nodded. 'Erik… it… hurts… please…'

And then his eyes closed but this time Henry didn't force them back open. He couldn't and a tear dripped from Erik's face onto Henry's forehead, as Erik pulled him into his chest.

'Goodnight,' Erik whispered as he kissed Henry's hair. 'Goodnight brother.'