I want you all to know that even though I sliced my hand open on a knife this morning, requiring eleven stitches, I still managed to post this chapter.

And also, I'm delerious on pain medication.

Enjoy!

-Nico

Erik landed with a soft thud on top of the pile of old mattresses and linen he suddenly remembered placing three floors below the trap door.

Of course, he had done this because originally, he had expected to kidnap Christine and drag her back down to his lair…luring Raoul to follow and be hung. In his once warped mind, he had assumed Christine would either pledge her eternal love to him in order to save Raoul, or he would kill the boy and force Christine to remain with him anyhow.

Neither scenario played out the first time, and Erik doubted either would this time.

Above his head, Erik could make out the sounds of a frantic herd of people, running and screaming for their lives.

In spite of himself, Erik smirked at the audience's consistency. Although this time, the Opera would not burn to the ground.

He began moving silently through the passageways. His mind raced. Where would he find Christine? Where could he go where she would know to look?

And most importantly…where no one would find him?

He paused in his journey, forcing his nerves to settle and struggling to maintain the composure that would allow him a coherent thought.

And then it came to him.

The chapel.

Erik had already changed direction as his mind began to justify his decision. The chapel was on the opposite side of the building, far from the trap door that would certainly be the starting point for any following mob.

He stopped again.

But Raoul had arrived in his lair before the mob the first time around.

Erik's mind twisted in rapid detective work. How had Raoul beaten the angry theater mob to his lair? Every route from the theater to Erik's home was equidistant…

Every route but one.

Erik's eyes closed softly.

Madame Giry.

The most direct route to the lair was one only two people knew about…Erik, and his benefactor, Madame Giry.

And when she told Raoul, three people knew.

Erik pushed aside feeling of betrayal, knowing that above his head the same scenario had played out…a desperate Raoul pleading with Madame Giry to reveal the Phantom's Den.

Still, the chapel was a good choice. It was isolated…and certainly holy enough to be the last place the dreaded phantom would retreat to. Even if the small army looking for him decided to come to the chapel, he would hear them long before they arrived in the small room.

The chapel was also a sacred place for Erik and Christine for other reasons, having nothing to do with specific religious beliefs of either party.

It was where Erik had soothed a young Christine with words of love just after her father passed.

It was where she would go when she was frightened, calling to her angel for his protective presence.

It was where Charles revealed himself to his daughter.

And it was where Christine first remembered the life both she and Erik found themselves in now.

He could only pray she would be there.

Christine paced the stone floor of the chapel, the burned bottom of her skirts sweeping up dust in the glinting candlelight.

She fought the urge to run into the passageways and head for Erik's lair.

But he wouldn't go there again, would he? He knew that Raoul would be going straight there…Erik would remember that…

Wouldn't he?

Christine bit at her thumbnail. The chapel was the first place she thought to run…not necessarily to meet Erik, but in the hopes of seeing her father again. Surely the man she had always depended on as a small girl would appear again, directing his beloved daughter and the man she loved towards safety.

But she had been in the confined rooms for nearly thirty minutes…with no sign of her father…or Erik.

She walked the passages in her mind. She remembered where she and Erik had fell when they plummeted through the trap door the first time…quickly doing the math, if Erik came directly to the chapel, it would only have taken him ten minutes.

Then why wasn't he here?

Christine walked towards the back exit of the chapel, which was never used by ordinary stagehands and theater employees. It led to the unfinished, treacherous passageways beneath the Opera.

The same passageways that would lead to Erik's lair.

Christine pushed the heavy oak door that led to the passageway, looking back over her shoulder into the chapel at the same time, torn between staying where she was or venturing into the darkness, trying to find Erik.

A hand went over her mouth.

Christine instinctively struggled, but stopped when she heard Erik's voice soothing her.

"Christine!" He whispered. "It's me! I did not want to risk you screaming…the sound would travel through the passageways!"

He pulled his hand away once her eyes softened in happy recognition. "Erik," she said, wrapping herself around him, burying her now sobbing face in the crook of his neck as she felt his strong arms encircle her waist.

"It's alright," Erik said, gently stroking her hair. "It's alright, we're together…we're together."

Christine pulled her head up, her tear streaked but smiling face suddenly attacking his with urgent, fierce kisses that Erik gladly returned.

After a moment, Erik gently pulled away, brushing some hair from Christine's eyes. "We have to get out of here," he said. "Now."

Christine nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes.

I must be brave, she told herself.

Erik put his hands on her shoulders. "Keep hold of my hand," he told her firmly. She nodded again.

"But Erik," she whispered. "Where are we going?"

Erik kissed her forehead tenderly. "I have a plan," he said.