Disclaimer-yeah yeah we all know that none of the original good stuff is mine. Enjoy anyway.

Chapter 6

Black rage overwhelmed Raoul. In an instant he grabbed the rifle off the gendarme's shoulder. Falling to a knee, he aimed at the elevated bridge and fired.

The sounding of the rifle was too little warning against the missile that it ejected. Erik was reeled from the pinnacle of the heavens as Christine suddenly jolted back from his embrace.

"NO! God no.." his eyes widened at the sight of the blood running down from her jaw.

"What?" her voice cracked as she realized she was the one hit. The panic overtook her when Christine touched her hand to her neck and drew it back to see crimson. Swaying dangerously close to the rail, she reached out for her Angel.

"I'm here. Sss.. st.. stay calm…" Erik pulled her down, kneeling at her head and tried in vain to follow his own advise "Let me put pressure on…"

"NOW!"

Erik shrank down as the other gendarmes tried to hit their original target. Christine pushed at his hands.

"Fly... my... angel."

"No, I will not leave you."

"They will….kill…you…" now shaking from shock, Christine failed at her attempt to take a deep breath. "Please my…. love." The last word came as a wheeze.

" I will find you."

At that she smiled and closed her eyes. Erik crawled back to the center of the bridge. Looking at the audience he saw some of the men reloading and others pushing their way through the panicked audience to the stage. He would have to stand to release the lever of the trapdoor. Erik glanced back at Christine's still form. The faster I leave the faster she can get help. If there is a merciful God… no. There is only the hell I bring.

"Erik!"

In the chaos he barely heard his given name being yelled out.

"Antoinette, she is hurt!"

"Run." Madame Giry was pushed aside by the rush of people before straightening back up. "Run, Erik! I will get to Christine. Go now!"

At that the Phantom of the Opera stood and grabbed the lever. Hesitating to take one more look at Christine, Erik recoiled as the bullet entered his shoulder. Staggering back he pitched the lever forward and was plunged into the pit below.

The gunfire ceasedwhen the Phantom plunged below the stage. Already the gendarmes were dividing up to begin searching the premises. Raoul jumped onto the stage, and dashed up the right staircase. "Someone get a doctor!"

Mother and daughter ascended the opposite staircase.

"Oh Christine!" Meg's eyes filled with tears at the sight of her friend's bloody form.

Raoul looked up at them, "Where can we take her?"

"Meg, go tell Monsieur Nadir that he must come here quickly, a singer's been shot. Bring him to my quarters." Madame Giry motioned for Raoul to pick Christine up. "Allez vite, Meg. There is no time to waste." The girl dashed off looking like a practiced sprinter, pushing her way through the throng backstage and disappearing around the corner.

"An….gelll?" the moan was barely audible as Raoul gathered her in his arms.

"No love, no angels yet. You will stay here many more years, just hold on." Raoul carefully picked his way down the stairs. "Meg's off to fetch a doctor and we'll get you patched up. Just hold on love." Reaching the bottom of the stairs Raoul allowed Mme. Giry to take the lead. She grabbed one of the guards.

"We will move faster if you accompany us." He hesitated only a moment before seeing the bleeding form and nodding.

"Yes, madame. I will lead the way, just tell me where to go."

The gendarme pushed a path throughpeople, as Madame Giry directed him through the backstage area. Suddenly they came upon Ubaldo Piangi, conscious and being treated by the opera house physician. Raoul pushed past Giry and gendarme yelling,

"Sir we have a gunshot wound here!"

The physician turned away from Piangi and blanched at the sight of the blood drenched woman. "Mon Dieu!" He looked up the hallway. "Take her into that dressing room quickly!"

Madame Giry held the door as Raoul came through and lay Christine upon the small cot.

"I need more light," the physician quickly opened his bag. Raoul lit the other lamps in the room and motioned for the gendarme to exit.

"You," he motioned to Madame Giry, "Get me clean cloths and hot water." She hurried out the door. The physician took Christine by the chin and carefully lifted.

"Hold the lamp here," he motioned Raoul to do so as he began to assess the damage. Taking a cloth from the returning Madame Giry, he carefully wiped away some of the blood. More seeped to take its place. Putting pressure on the larger wound, he tentatively pressed along her jawline, stopping when he found the hole. Now assured of a difficult night he turned to the waiting duo and stated the simple truth.

"The bullet must come out."

Who in the heavens would be knocking at this time of night? Nadir rubbed his eyes as he walked to the door, candle in hand. Looking through the peephole, he was more than surprised to see Meg Giry, dressed as some sort of Spanish style prostitute. Sitting the candle on the entrance table, Nadir quickly opened the door

"Child, what brings you here in such a state? Is your mother…"

Meg cut him off. "Maman is fine, Monsieur. But my friend." Here her voice cracked, but she continued. "And I am to tell you that a singer has been shot and that you are needed to help."

"Child, I am not a doctor…"

" Oui monsieur, I know. But you are one of the few people that may be able to help the injured singer. Maman said to come to her quarters. Please sir, I need to hurry back to my friend."

Nadir nodded as he understood Meg's meaning and motioned for her to enter.

"Give me a moment to dress, child."

Minutes later, the pair crossed the streets and tried to enter the opera.

"I tell you, there isn't time to argue! My mother is the ballet director here. This man is here to help the injured. Now let us pass!"

"Not without verification. That's my orders." The door guard had entirely to high an opinion of his position. Meg tried again.

"Do you think I would be walking around like this? My clothes match the others that were on stage tonight you idiot! Now someone may be dying because of you."

"Sorry mam'selle, but…"

"What's the problem here?" Monsieur Reyer bobbed behind the guard. " I would like to leave this hell sometime tonight. Let me pass."

"Sorry sir." The guard moved aside. "Just this tart trying to get in."

"What? That's not a streetwalker. She's the daughter of the ballet mistress"

"See!" Meg smiled triumphantly. "Now please let us through."

"It still doesn't account for him," the guard motioned to Nadir.

"Monsieur Reyer," Meg tried to look as pitiful as possible. "Mother sent me to fetch Monsieur Nadir to help with the injured. We have to hurry. Tell this man I mean the truth."

"I will vouch for them monsieur. Now please let me go home." The small man sighed wearily.

"Very well. Go on." The guard hurried them past and turned to face the doorway again.

"This way monsieur." Meg turned right and went down several steps before turning to the next hallway. Stopping at the last door, she reached to the handle when her mother's voice called out.

"Meg, you took so long!" Nadir and Meg turned to see Madame Giry hurrying down the hall towards them.

"Meg, Christine is with the opera physician in Marie's dressing room. He is going to have to operate to get the bullet that's lodged in her jawbone. You may go wait there. Take these with you." Handing another bundle of cloths to her daughter, Madame Giry shooed her down the hall.

"Thank you for coming, my friend." Nadir looked at her in confusion as she unlocked the door and motioned for him to come inside.

"I am afraid I do not understand Antoinette…" he watched as she went to the far wall and removed a picture. Touching a tiny switch, the wall slid open silently. She motioned him forward. Nadir's eyes widened as he entered the small chamber and viewed the figure that was unconscious upon the floor.

Antoinette Giry knelt down beside the man. "My brother has a bullet in his shoulder. We need your help to remove it."

A/N Saw the movie for sixth time today...:) perfectly enjoyable way to spend a Saturday afternoon. Please review, it feeds my Southern belle ego. (Or stomps it flat!)