A/N: I know the last chapter was extremely short, but this one is a lot longer. I promise! Ha, I just couldn't help putting in that cliffhanger…R&R please! One more thing:

Disclaimer: I do not own any Phantom of the Opera characters, or places. 'Nuff said.

2. Death Becomes Him

Erik smirked, thinking that the wretched man missed. When he lunged out to strangle the man, he felt a hot, searing pain run through his whole body, in agonizing waves. Instead of moving in for the kill, he involuntarily crumpled on the floor in a cluttered heap.

He awoke with a start, the room empty and painfully bright. He looked around in panic…this was not his home. His panic turned to annoyance, only because the brightness made him squint, and squinting was obstructing his view. He tried to think about something else, so he wouldn't spend unnecessary time being angry at nothing.

I remember that I was in my home…I saw Christine leave…heard voices…felt pain. Pain? Mreh, that is nothing new…But this was different…how? He remembered looking down at a man before hearing another loud noise...

A noise, which brought him to…here? Where is here? Was he dead?

Erik put his face in his hands, trying to drink everything in; trying to make sense of it all. He gasped as he felt nothing wrong with the upper-right side of his face. There should have been a deformity!He felt like he was in a half sitting, half laying position, and when he looked down, he was actually standing!

What the bloody hell is going on? Why do I feel like there is water dripping on me? Why does my shirt feel like it is soaking wet? Wait…MY SHIRT!

Erik instinctively looked down to where his gunshot wounds were, but upon inspection, he did not see one scratch; not even the scars that he had unjustly earned as the "Devil's Child". In his haste to look himself over, he had ripped off his white shirt, (or did he?) revealing a perfectly toned body. His body was already toned to begin with, but it was more prominent, with the right curves and such. He did not have a weight lifter's buff, just the mild valleys of abs and upper body muscles.

He stiffened in annoyance of the dismembered feelings, annoyance leading to the stiffening of his back muscles. He looked over his shoulder because the stiffening made a strange sound, much like a bird might make, directly behind him. Erik almost jumped when he saw the feathers.

Wings? So...I am dead. Wait, am I? If I was dead, then why do I still feel everything but pain? And WHAT in God's name, is the flowing-drops-of-water feeling?

His questions had been answered almost immediately, when he was plunged back into his world, except that he was looking at what he thought was himself, rather than being himself. He felt that if he were not already dead, he would have died from shock!

Erik's mind was back in place whenever he saw a woman's form leaning over his. He could not see who it was, because she was leaning over his form, trying calmly to resuscitate him. He could see that her calm façade seemed to diminish each passing moment with no response from his lifeless body. He could do nothing but watch her try to save his life. He wondered why anyone would want to "try" and save him. No one could, except for one person. Christine. Nevertheless, even that was a dream. She is gone.

After the way you treated her, why should she come back? He thought grimly. Because you saved her, and she saved you. You both love each other, and you know it.

He was in deep thought when a soft sound came to his ears. He moved closer to the sobbing sound. He gasped as he saw what was in front of him. It was his body covered in blood…his shirt had been torn off and was used as a gauge. He looked in horror at the puddle of blood around, on, and beneath him. He didn't know that humans had that much blood!

The sight that made his semi-heart skip a beat was….Christine. She was there. WHY? Did she not leave with that fop? Obviously not Erik, she is right there...holding me? He thought dryly. He walked over and sat down by his body. He watched in awe at the scene before him.

Christine had given up trying CPR, and cried out in defeat. She held him close to her, letting her hot tears flow freely onto him. Erik let a tear fall as he heard her heart-spoken words, filled with anguish and complete truth.

"Angel! Oh my Angel, please do not leave me! I am so sorry for all of the pain that I have put you through. I know you gave me everything you had to give, and I foolishly threw it all back at you. Angel, I know you love me. Please! I cannot live without you! I came back to you…" Christine looked at his lifeless body, hoping for a reaction. When she got none, she buried her face in his shoulder and started to cry silently, slowly accepting the death of her Angel of Music.

After a few moments, when it all sank in, she whispered, "I'm sorry…I am so, so sorry. It is my entire fault. God, please…not him too!" Her voice was shaking with threatening tears. "Angel, if you can hear me, please come back to me…I love you!" She sobbed out the last three words.

At those last words, Erik got up and walked to Christine's side. He was about to touch her tearstained cheek, but stopped when he saw her gently lay him down on a pillow she had retrieved for him earlier, and bent closer to give him a goodbye kiss. He put his fingers on his lips, a tear sliding down his own cheek. She lay down next to him, watching for any signs of life, wishing she could die with him.

A/N: Major fluffyness next chapter! It's half as long as this one. And no, no explicit scenes, just the clean, innocent love. Just to let'cha know!