Chapter Nineteen

"You should have protected her!"

"You should have stopped any of this from happening!"

"You should never have allowed her to choose the Scorpion!"


"Scorpion's sting, it is in their nature...you cannot change that! You cannot change nature!"

"You are what you are: a monster!"

Erik was no stranger to the darkness of his own mind. He was used to the demons who whispered in his ear. Their taunting never bothered him that much until now. Now he could not stand it. He knew it was his fault that Christine was dying, he should have been there for her. She had given him everything she was and he had failed her.

Her pale hand lay coldly in his own. The ruby from her ring seemed to glow mockingly at him, reminding him of his failure as a husband. He had been so wrong to let Christine choose him. Grasshopper or Scorpion, he now knew whom he would have chosen. The scorpion was deadly, which he was proving with every strained breath Christine emitted.

Erik had known that he could not mend the wound and so had gone to the only man he knew would have no choice but to keep his appearence silent, the priest who had married him. Erik had told him the situation and the man had told him that he would find a reliable man to come to the manor to help her. He had had some of the servants bury Anita and they had done so in silence.

The doctor, a graying man, now stood on Christine's other side, sewing the wound shut. Erik had to look away from the sight because every stitch unraveled a peace of his soul. If she died he would kill himself, he had already made his decision. The pain of living without her was something that he would never be able to stand. He would face the fires of hell rather then the pain of living without her.

"Sir, she was lucky she did not hurt the little one," the doctor said. Erik froze, his gaze slowly landing on the doctor, who had to keep from shrinking back in fear.

"'Little one'?" Erik murmured. The doctor nodded.

"Yes, I do believe your wife is pregnant," he said. Erik's eyes landed on Christine's pale face. She was carrying his child.

"She will live?" Erik asked, his voice cold because he had to much on his mind at the moment.

"Yes, Monsieur, given a few weeks to rest and mend I do believe she will be fine," he said. The doctor could literally see the tension that left the masked man's shoulders.

"Thank you," he murmured. The older man nodded and slowly slipped from the room. Erik removed most of his clothing until he was only wearing his trousers before slipping into bed with Christine, careful not to move her. He continued to hold her hand, marveling at the fact that his baby was right that moment growing inside this woman.

He would make a life for the three of them, away from the people who would shun them. His mask was no longer something for him to be ashamed of. Christine loved him even with his face and he would learn to do the same. Acceptance was not something he took very lightly. He had been a child of the wilderness but had found his shelter in Christine's heart. His heart was no longer on its own.

"You must make it, Christine, for both of us..."

xXx

Four years later...

"Papa! Papa!"

Erik pulled away from Christine's lips with great reluctance to turn and face his son, who was running as fast as his legs could carry him. He hurtled himself into Erik's arms, laughing in delight. Erik smiled and swung him about. This caused the boy to laugh gleefully.

"Papa!" he squealed. Erik stopped the swinging to pull his son into his embrace.

"What has gotten you so excited, Gable?" he asked. The boy grinned, his green eyes twinkling.

"I caught a cricket!" he said triumphantly, waving his fist about.

"Really?" Erik wondered. He groaned when he opened Gable's fist only to find the small creature smashed. Christine giggled, only to make Gable's grin grow. Erik cleaned his sons hand and set him down on his feet, watching him scamper off back into the garden.

"He is too much like you," Christine giggled. Erik made a face.

"I do not go about killing crickets! They are great musicians," he muttered. Christine smiled at him and shook her head, placing a hand on her swollen stomach. Almost five years ago and she had chosen the scorpion instead of the grasshopper. Of course the grasshopper would have been a safer choice, but there was nowhere else she would rather be then in the arms of her scorpion...temper or not.

She had been surprised to hear that Anita had been related to Joseph and could understand the womans anger. But she refused to think about her or the past in the opera house. She had given birth to their son and she was happy. Erik was happy. That was all that mattered. And with the little one in her belly she knew that she could not ask for any more. She would never regret choosing Erik.

There was nothing to regret.

Fin