XII

The old chapel sat empty, a candle flickering dully off to one side, no one had been there in a long time. Above the chapel the tunnels remained unused, gathering more dust and cobwebs than before.

"Christine, I'd rather you didn't," Raoul worried, "you told me this was where you used to meet."

"I know, Raoul. But I haven't gone down in so long, I have to. I have to pray for my father," she said gently, "I won't be long, you can wait right up here."

Raoul sighed heavily as Christine slipped down the stairs and to the old chapel. It was just as she remembered it. Small and cold. With a careful look around she went over to her father's candle and sat in front of it.

"Hello, father," she murmured, lighting the candle, "I'm sorry I haven't visited in a while, but things have gotten terribly busy here."

She stopped there and looked around the room again, listening carefully for any noise. The whisper of fabric, the light tapping of shoes. Anything that might suggest that someone else was there with her.

"You promised me an angel," she said, biting back tears, "and instead I have been sent a devil…I'm frightened. I don't' know what to do anymore. Everything used to seem so clear, so perfect but not anymore. I can't stand to be alone for fear of him. I jump at every shadow, I have to look over my shoulder and around every corner. It's driving me mad…Raoul won't leave me though, he insist to stay here and protect me. I'm so glad for that."

She paused again, listening carefully. She could hear Raoul pacing at the top of the stairs. His shoes clacking loudly against the floor. It gave her a sort of comfort, reminded her that she wasn't alone.

"I miss you," she continued, "I still miss you so much, I wish you had never left me. But I guess I can't turn back time…I have to go now, Raoul is waiting. We're to go out to supper tonight and its getting late. We just finished a small performance and we're to start rehearsals for a new opera tomorrow…his opera. Good night, papa, I'll come again soon."

With that she blew out the candle and said a quick prayer, then she hurried back up the stairs to an anxiously waiting Raoul. He greeted her with a small smile and a peck on the cheek. Christine returned the smile and began to follow him to the front doors.

Antoinette sighed as she cleaned up the dressing room. Picking up discarded shoes and tossing them into a small pile. They were useless now, so she would have them thrown away the next day.

"Maman?" Meg asked, poking her head in the door.

"Yes, my dear?"

"I wanted to ask if Rosie and I could go over to the café across the street. Its not that far and we won't be out long."

"I would rather you didn't," Antoinette sighed, "but, perhaps if Gabriel will go with you?"

"Thank you, maman!" Meg exclaimed, "I'll ask. We won't be out long, I know lights are to be out in an hour."

"Very well, have fun."

"We will."

Antoinette smiled slightly and threw a last pair of shoes into the corner before leaving the room. She could always clean up the next day, she was tired now and wanted nothing more than to have a cup of tea and go to bed.

As she walked she passed Raoul and Christine on their way to supper. Christine said a polite good night, and Raoul offered the slightest bow and a murmured greeting. Antoinette didn't expect anything more from him, so she continued on her way, passing Meg, Rosie and Gabriel going out. They each said a good night as they went, giggling among themselves. She was about to turn to her room when she spotted the entrance to the small chapel. She decided to go there instead, she hadn't been down there in some time.

She lit a candle for Jules, and said a small prayer for him. Then she took a moment to just sit and rest. The chapel held so many memories for her. Of when she had first rescued Erik, how he had been so frightened and timid.

"Is only he had stayed that way," she sighed, "so much trouble now…so much trouble."

Bt he had always been trouble, from the day he had arrived in the theatre. She had had to keep him a secret, found him food and clothes. He had quickly become too curious for his own good, revelling in the challenge of climbing through the ropes high above the ground. Discovering and creating secret tunnels and secret rooms. There was always something to get into and he had always found it. She could still remember the time he cracked a rib due to his adventures, or cut his hand open while working with the glass for his mirrored hell.

"Never learned," she clucked, "not then…and not now. It is such a shame, he could have been so much more than this."

She watched the candle's flame flicker, casting strange shadows on the wall. It made her a bit nervous. It was strange, but she had taken to looking over her shoulder along with the rest, or starting at the shadows in the halls.

"I pray you come to your senses, my friend," she muttered, blowing out the candle, "we all pray."

Erik found himself wandering through the empty tunnels of the theatre. He hadn't watched the performance, he hadn't watched any performances in a long time. Instead he had walked through the secret passageways and empty halls of the theatre. Hoping to find some stray ballet rat or staff to terrorize. He had had no such luck.

Once the performance had ended he had been forced back into the walls to avoid any unwanted sightings. One or two people he could deal with easily, perhaps even six, if he had to. But even he lost confidence at an entire theatre.

Tomorrow they would start his opera, and he had so many plans for that performance. He would watch every rehearsal, critique every little detail and demand absolute perfection no matter what. And they would listen, or suffer the consequences.

He followed an older tunnel, one that was more caked with dust than most from disuse. He immediately recognized its destination and slowed down. Just up ahead was the chapel, and the vantage point from which he had so often watched Christine. His Christine.

There was a sound from up ahead, and he couldn't help himself, he hurried forward, ducking under the largest cobwebs and brushing the rest to the side. When he arrived he saw only Antoinette leaving the chapel, and a small twisting column of smoke rising from a burnt candle.

With a sigh he slid down the wall and closed his eyes. He should have known, Christine never came to the chapel anymore. He still did, or at least he had wanted to, just to see if she was there. But he had always disappointed himself with some excuse or another. It seemed like no one ever went anymore, he passed by the tunnel often, and never heard anything.

"How sad," he murmured, "it used to mean so much…"

He glanced back down on the small room and sighed. It didn't really matter anymore, soon, very soon she would be his again and she would see how much he loved her, and how much she loved him. With a swish of his cloak he stood up and left the chapel.

"Soon," he muttered, "very soon, Christine. My Christine."

A/N: Well, not a very long or exciting chapter, but they can't all be. Please drop a review if you're reading and tell me what you thought. The next chapter should be interesting (ooh, starting rehearsals) and probably a bit longer.