Author's Note: I know that so far, the story has been fairly lacking in Erik-rages, and that some of you may be missing this. Never fear, the fairy-tale-ish-ness will only continue for a couple more chapters, and then a measure of angst will return to the story.
As far as this chapter goes, I've always seen Andre and Firmin as being something of the comic relief for Phantom (asides from our beloved Carlotta, of course!) I hope I've been true to that here.
Review, as always! Enjoy!
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Chapter 14: Reconciliation?
"Wait."
Madame Giry held up a hand, stopping the procession of herself, the Viscomte de Chagny, Andre and Firmin to the managers' office for a meeting on the future of the damaged opera house.
They stopped, Andre and Firmin both with a look of frustration on their faces. "What is it, Madame? We don't have all day."
Madame Giry turned and headed for the wide doors that led into the theater. Confused, the three men followed her. They soon heard what had stopped Madame Giry—the sound of racking sobs coming from the theater. Curious, they entered behind her, and stopped in their tracks.
Near the stage stood Miss Daae, holding the bowed figure of a man in her arms—a man who was sobbing violently.
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Never in all her days with Erik had Christine ever heard him apologize for any wrong that he had done. In her heart of hearts, she knew that he felt a deep sorrow for the lives that had been ended and ruined because of him—but never had he vocalized it.
The sight of the ruined opera house alone would have broken his heart. But the devastating factor in it all was that it was his doing. And this was what he sobbed out brokenly as Christine tried in vain to comfort him.
"Such a fool…such a fool, Christine." He clung to her like a child, burying his face in her shoulder so that he would not see the ravages of his opera house.
"It is my fault that it is destroyed…my fault, Christine…this place that I built, that you loved…this place is what our lives were built around. What will we do now?"
"It is only a place, Erik." Christine said, trying to soothe him. Frustrated tears burned behind her eyes, but she held them back valiantly. She would cry for the ruins of her home and the broken dreams later. "It is only a place."
The words were hollow. She knew that it was so much more than a place. Erik interred a part of his soul into everything that he created. It was one of the qualities that drew her to him. She prayed that it would not now be his undoing.
She heard footsteps and looked up to see Madame Giry enter. To her dismay, Raoul followed, Andre and Firmin close behind.
She saw Raoul's features twist angrily when he saw who it was that she held in her arms. She saw Andre and Firmin clench their fists and take a step forwards, then halt as if remembering something. She saw Madame Giry's face crumple and her eyes mist over.
Madame Giry alone understood.
"Erik." She brought her mouth close to his ear, whispering. "Erik, you must pull yourself together. We have visitors."
Erik straightened, his hand automatically going to his mask to smooth it. With his other hand, he wiped the lingering tears from his cheek and ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to make himself presentable. In another man, this might have seemed unforgivably vain and womanish. In Erik, it seemed only natural.
He turned and offered a tight smile to the three men and a warmer glance to Madame Giry.
"Good morning."
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"I want to kill him." Andre growled under his breath to Firmin.
"So do I. But I prefer to keep my relations with Madame Guillotine those of the distant nature, Andre."
"So…what shall we do?"
"Grovel."
The two men offered hands and smiles to Erik, acting as though everything were perfectly normal. Christine smothered an entirely inappropriate smile as she watched her employers force down their obvious distaste for Erik. She glanced towards Madame Giry and saw that her eyes were sparkling with uncalled-for merriment, also.
Raoul, however, made no move to speak to or shake hands with Erik. He devoted his attention to Christine, his eyes drinking her in. If only she would speak...he felt that he would give his very soul to hear her lovely voice again.
He would gladly burn in hell if it meant he might hold her again, kiss her again. His eyes drifted over her body, and he fought back the urge to kill Erik then and there. His traitorous mind wondered if the monster had claimed her yet, and he forced that thought from his mind as completely ludicrous. Certainly Christine would never…
Erik's voice broke into his thoughts. "Monsieur Andre, Monsieur Firmin, I wish to extend my apologies for the disaster I have caused."
Andre cleared his throat. "Well, Monsieur…Erik, is it?" Erik nodded, and Andre continued. "Monsieur Erik, your apologies are accepted, but I am afraid they do nothing to improve our current situation. Your opera was quite expensive, and the families of those who were injured in the chandelier crash are demanding medical compensation, as is Piangi's family and La Carlotta herself. There will simply be no money left to rebuild. I'm afraid our days as the managers of the Opera Populaire, and the days of the Populaire itself, are finished."
"Quite the contrary, monsieurs." Erik said.
Andre and Firmin looked momentarily at a loss. Erik continued.
"I have amassed quite a fortune over the years. Monsieur Lefevre paid me 20,000 francs a month for several years, and you yourselves paid me the same for the past few months. I have hardly spent any of it. Here is what I offer, gentlemen."
Andre and Firmin both instantly adopted wary expressions. "You may be rich, monsieur, but you underestimate the expense involved. The insurance will cover part of it, and Monsieur le Viscomte will also assist as our continuing patron. If it were only the opera house, we might manage. But the compensations that the families are demanding—they are monumental, monsieur! And La Carlotta!"
Erik waved for them to be silent, his usual aplomb settling over his features and disguising his sorrow.
"I will pay Piangi's medical expenses myself. They cannot be too great, as I failed to take the time to properly dispose of him, thank God. I will also compensate the families of those who were injured in the crash and the fire. I will give you the money and you may send it to them in your names, which will benefit the Populaire. I will also donate money to help rebuild this place, and will help to redesign any parts of the structure which may need it. As you recall, gentlemen, I built this place originally. It should be little difficulty. The remainder of my wealth I intend to use to buy a modest home for Christine and myself where we can live near this opera house. You may continue to let it be rumored that you have a ghost or no, whatever you wish, but I will no longer be residing beneath the Populaire. If Christine wishes, I am more than inclined to allow her to continue in her place here. In fact, since Signora Guidicelli is no longer in the condition to perform, Christine should be afforded even more opportunities. In exchange for all of this, I ask only that you help us to become established in society. I do not wish for Christine to suffer from this."
Erik finished his speech, taking Christine's hand in his own to emphasize his point. "It is your choice, gentlemen."
Andre looked wary still, but Firmin spoke up after a few seconds deliberation. "I think that perhaps we have been blind after all, but not in the manner that the Viscomte seemed to think. Your fearful Opera Ghost has turned out to be a man of the most amiable nature. If Andre will agree, we accept your offer, Monsieur Erik."
Andre nodded his assent, and the men shook hands. Firmin turned to Christine. "Do you still wish to perform with us? Your talent is undeniable, Miss Daae. It would be a shame to waste it." He glanced nervously at Erik, but Erik said nothing, only looked down at Christine and awaited her answer.
Christine's heart felt as though it might take wings and fly from her chest. Oh, surely God had smiled upon them this day! Not only was she to be given the life of which she had always dreamed, a life that would be spent with Erik, but she was also to continue at the Opera Populaire—permanently in Carlotta's place! It was as though all her dreams were coming to rest at once, and the only darkening was a small shudder as a perverse whisper darted through her mind.
Never have your dreams come true for long, Christine. This happiness that you have found is too sublime to last.
She forced the darkness from her mind.