A/N- Yes, the third chapter! School is slowly killing me…On a happier note, yes; I have made Christine have a bit more backbone. She was just annoying me, so out came a Christine with stronger opinions. This chapter has more of our favorite Ghost's view. Hope I keep everyone in character. Onward, Erik!

Kay Erik: Oh, Lord.

Disclaimer: I do. I do own it. You can't do anything to me! -Runs away from the lawyers and the men in the white coats.- AHHH! Okay, I don't!

Ch 3: Forever Lost

Erik slowly awakened to the sight of his Christine, hair mussed and dark circles under her eyes, curled up next to his long torso. He gently traced the contours of her face with his hand, hating the moment when she would wake up and he would have to face reality. The Opera Ghost knew what was happening to him; he would die soon, and Erik would not see Christine with no one in the world.

Raoul was the only choice. Her childhood sweetheart…they would make each other happy, he knew. And yet, he was jealous. He didn't have a chance, the Phantom knew it from the start. He could deny the fact, but the truth was blaringly obvious.

Erik's last attempt at praying hadn't worked so well, and he didn't have it in him to beg for forgiveness. It would be foolish to pray for his own life; he was already doomed to hell. But he would beg for Christine's.

Only for her.

Hearing soft whispering outside the door, Erik jolted up from the bed, careful not to wake the sleeping angel. Quietly, painstakingly, he began to put on fresh clothing, and the black cape, ignoring the pain in his chest. And his mask. Placing the stifling white porcelain over his face, his hand involuntarily twisted the hem of his cloak, remembering the first time he knew he would die- the first time Christine unknowingly ripped off the mask.

"Erik?" A soft inquiry came from the now delicate creature on the bed, rubbing her eyes in such a child-like motion that it made him want to keep her here, with him, where no one would ever crush her dreams. Was he selfish, to want all this beauty for himself, to compensate for the one thing he would never have?

"Where are you going?" She looked worried, and started to get up from the bed.

He made a soft motion with his hand, keeping her there without once touching her. "I'm going to see who the daroga has invited down here for tea this time. You needn't worry, I haven't deteriorated enough to be unable to find out who is in my own house."

She still appeared concerned, especially when he started coughing, the horrid hacking noise coming back. "Erik, I don't want you going out. You were delirious just yesterday. I will go and see who's here."

In an instant, he crossed the room, and held her small wrist with a bony grip. "You will stay here, Christine. I will be back presently." With that terse statement, he swept out the door, inwardly fighting to keep from bending over in agony.

Christine saw through his façade in an instant, and yet was scared to do anything else. He was stronger today, and the Phantom's illness was making him more irritated and moody than usual.

If it was possible for his mood changes to grow any worse… She shook her head, half frightened and half amused. Erik was weak, and any lesser man would be dead already. Yet he commanded everyone around him, simply by using his voice. At times she had still thought he wasn't of this world…

Enough. She would go see what was happening in the main room, herself.

Still, she tiptoed to the door, as if Erik could hear her moving. Through the door, she could hear Erik's beautiful voice, laced with icy sarcasm. The daroga she heard as well…but there was a new voice, a voice raised in boyish anger.

She knew that voice. That voice, with all the familiar brash arrogance, belonged to Raoul.

Christine let out an audible gasp, then closed her hand over her mouth in horror. Dear Raoul…he came, despite the fact she had wounded his young heart with her harsh words. He deserved better than her; she could never love him the way he ought to be loved. Raoul was the most eligible young man in Paris, surely he could have anyone.

Christine was imperfect, she knew. The voice of another man, the man that had shaped her voice and her soul, was deeply ingrained in her being. Like it or not, he was quite essential to her. It didn't matter what type of relationship they held, her angel was too much a part of her to let go of. Man or ghost, angel or devil…it just didn't matter anymore.

Hesitantly, she opened the door, wincing as the small creak it made echoed through the lair. With Erik's superhuman hearing, they would turn to her in a second.

Well aware of her rumpled gown and tangled curls, she stopped as the three men turned towards her. The Opera Ghost was leaning against the wall casually, although an aura of menace ruined his act of boredom. Arms crossed underneath the black cloak, he narrowed his eyes behind the mask as she stood there, shivering.

Raoul started up from his chair immediately, giving her a warm embrace. Nadir looked worriedly over at Erik, sensing his agitation. The daroga had grown quite good at sensing Erik's moods during the years he had known him, and came in handy.

Erik surprised him, though.

"Christine. Come here." He spoke with forbidding authority, so she dared not refuse him. She had seen beneath the cold exterior, when he had cried out for just one kiss…

Raoul caught her hand, but she moved towards Erik, sensing Raoul's surprise and worry. She reached the dark shadow hovering by the wall, and he reached out a cold finger and tilted her face upwards, toward him.

"I do believe you have something to give me before you leave, my dear."

Christine's eyes filled with tears, spilling over onto her white cheeks. Gently he wiped them away, his heart breaking. Frantic to do something, Christine ran towards the room to retrieve her bag. There was absolute silence as she left them, and Raoul shifted uncomfortably.

Wary, he moved towards Erik slightly. "Monsieur, if there is anything-"

The Phantom cut him off. "There is nothing you can do. Just take her, and leave quickly."

The girl came back, holding the little invitation in her hand, and there was such an expression of grief on her features that Erik caught his breath. He leaned over her protectively as she stared at him with wide eyes, and silently held out her hand with the card in her neat copperplate writing. Christine could feel him shaking slightly, with the effort of holding himself upright.

The angel's voice was grave, resonating inside her head as it did once. "Thank you, mon amour." Christine collapsed, falling into his arms, as he tightened his grip upon her.

Nadir looked away, feeling pity for the masked man. Raoul stared at the two, the terror and understanding that had been drifting at the edge of his mind finally taking hold. She would never love him as much as Erik. There was never a man so unworthy of her love, yet needing it the most at the same time.

She could not love him. But he was loathe to let her go…she was everything he wanted, ever since he had found her again.

Erik's voice cut through his thoughts, raspy and restrained. "Take her, please." He was begging…it had gone too far, and he was losing control quickly. Raoul came forward, and gently led the weeping Christine away from her broken angel, reminded of the last time they left this god-forsaken place.

Christine tugged her fingers away from Raoul's grasp, tears still coursing down her cheeks. She glanced back at the closed door Erik had retreated back into, and then looked hopelessly at her childhood sweetheart.

"Raoul…I can't leave him, I can't!"

The young man drew back, his worst nightmare becoming reality. "Christine…Don't you love me?"

She almost laughed at the irony of it all. Everything was futile…She couldn't do it anymore.

"I do love you, Raoul. I just…Erik will die, soon. I can't let him die alone. Please understand…" She was choking, choking on her tears. Raoul bent forward and placed a light kiss on her lips.

"I will wait for you, then. However long it takes." They embraced, clinging to each other like two lost children. He couldn't make her go…so he would wait. He would wait until Christine was free from this horrible obligation she seemed tied to. They broke away, and the seriousness of their parting dawned.

"Oh, don't say that…Be happy, dear. I am not good enough for you." With that, she stroked his cheek tenderly, and turned towards her room, shoulders shaking. She glanced back to see him walk numbly into the catacombs, and suppressed her desire to run after him, and live happily ever after, like in the tales.

But the world didn't work that way anymore; she had turned her golden prince away.

As Christine turned back, she faced a wide-eyed Nadir. "Mademoiselle… Aren't you going with him? Erik doesn't…"

"I am staying, Nadir. I will stay with him till the end. Nothing will change my mind."

Something must have alerted the Persian to tread carefully. He gently steered her to another room, a foreign room which had been decorated much like the old one.

"He is sleeping right now. We will deal with his reaction when he wakes up, but right now you need to rest." Christine nodded in thanks, opening her wardrobe to find a few extra clothes, and took out a nightgown.

Right before Nadir closed the door, he glanced back in admiration. "You are a very strong woman, Miss Daaé. I am glad to have met you."

As he left, she fell onto the bed with an unladylike thump. She had a strong feeling that she would never see the boy Raoul again.

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