A/N: Ladies and gentlemen: we have reached the final two chapters of this fanfic. As a result: that means that you get two chapters for the price of one. So enjoy reading and I apologize in advance for the pain that is about to come at the end of this chapter.

PS:Things happen in this chapter that can seriously result in triggers, so please feel free to skim/skip this chapter if need be (summary at the very end of what you missed). I promise that I won't be offended if you do, but you are nice readers, so please take care of yourselves. Thank you :)

XXXXX

Adellade stood and slowly crawled into the bed, burying herself within the sheets.

A hand touched her and she gasped, turning to see who it was.

"Erik?" She frowned. "How did you get in? The door's locked."

"Hush now," he whispered. "Not much time left."

"What do you-?"

Shouting came from the other side. She got out of bed and grabbed the chair, using it to keep the door from opening.

"It won't keep them out forever," he pointed out, sitting on the bed.

"Is this supposed to be real or a nightmare?" she asked.

"Which would you rather have it be?"

"If it's a nightmare: that means they haven't come yet. That I'm still in my flat…."

She blinked and the bed vanished, revealing their old chambers in Mazenderan. Adellade turned, seeing Erik still sitting on the bed with his usual clothing on.

She smiled and he frowned. "Something funny?"

"You look so odd here-dressed like that, I mean."

"He looks the way he should." Christine walked over and smiled. "As handsome as ever."

"And you're as beautiful as ever," he replied, kissing her hand.

"Father!" Gustave ran over and into Erik's arms, wrapping his arms around his neck.

"Christine?" Adellade asked. "Gustave? What are you doing here?"

"Mother said that we're going to see the palace today," Gustave explained with a smile.

"No." She swallowed and shook her head. "Not them. Please. Not them."

"What do you mean?" Christine asked.

She stepped forward and went to touch her friend, only to find that they had both gone.

"What happened?" Adellade turned toward Erik, only to find that he had gone.

There was more shouting followed by sceams. She gasped and ran, throwing open the door to get into the halls. She skidded to a halt as she saw Nadir and several guards facing her.

"I'm sorry, Adellade," he began, "but there was no other way."

The guards began to run toward her. She turned and fled, going down another hall, hearing them behind her….

She gasped and tripped on something, falling to the floor. Adellade turned to get up, only to catch a glimpse of what was there.

"No." She went toward them, shaking them each by the shoulders, fingers slick with their blood. "Christine! Gustave! No."

Adellade tried to get them up, only to wince as something cut into her arm. She saw the shard and picked it up, further opening the wound it had created.

"It's not working," she whispered, creating more cuts. "Why won't it work?"

Someone grabbed her arm, stopping her. She turned, seeing Erik there.

"Adellade," he whispered. "What are you doing?"

"I want this to end. I want to wake up. This isn't working." She showed him her arm. "It normally works. Why doesn't this work? I want to wake up! I want it to end!"

He gently pulled her toward him, holding her in his arms. "It's alright, see?"

Everything around them vanished and they were once again in her room with Erik holding her.

"Am I awake now?" she whispered.

There was muffled shouting through the door and she curled up, trying to get closer to him.

"Erik's here," he reassured. "You're safe, Adellade. Erik is here. You're safe. They can't hurt you. The monsters can't hurt you."

Her vision started to fade and she gasped, her head snapping up as she did so. "Erik?"

"Yes?"

"I'm still dreaming, aren't I?"

"I suppose you are."

"Does this mean you're not real?"

He gently moved one of her hands and placed it against his face, letting her fingers feel his skin. "What do you think?"

"I want it to be real," she whispered. "I want this to be real. But when I wake up...you won't be there anymore…." She blinked and tried to sit up, to support her heavy limbs. "You'll stay, won't you? Just for a bit longer?"

"Of course. Erik has always been willing to do whatever you've asked of him."

She smiled. "I like it better that you're here and not Madeline."

"Hush now." He gently brushed her hair back. "You're almost asleep."

"But if I sleep…."

"It's faster than what could happen," he pointed out. "Far less painful too."

"What about you?"

"You'll be happy." He gave her a small smile. "He'll still have Christine and Gustave. They'll help him." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "It's time for you to sleep, Adellade. You've had too many nightmares for too long, too many monsters…. If this is how Erik can make you happy, then so be it. You deserve happiness more than any other person."

She clutched at his shirt, trying to fight the tiredness she felt. "I'm frightened, Erik. I know I shouldn't be, but I am."

"It'll be alright," he reassured. "I'm right here with you. Sleep now, Adellade. It'll be alright. Just sleep. And when you wake: you'll be happy again."

XXXXX

There was a knocking and his eyes opened. Erik sighed and stood, going to answer.

"Not much sleep last night?" Nadir asked.

"Why are you here?" He nodded toward the two other men. "Aren't they enough?"

"I thought it might ease things to have a familiar face," he pointed out. "Where is she?"

"Locked herself in her room last night," he explained, leading them to the door.

Nadir cleared his throat and knocked. "Adellade? Might I come in?"

There was silence for a reply.

He tried again. "Adellade?"

Erik frowned as there was still nothing. He moved Nadir aside and went to open the door, turning the knob. He grunted, throwing his weight into the door, stumbling into the room as it gave way, the chair she had used to block the door falling off to the side.

There were gasps and he looked up, seeing what they saw. The blankets had been pulled to one side and off the bed, streaks of dark red staining the fabric. Nadir hurried over to the side and sucked in a breath.

He slowly walked over to join the Daroga, staring in horror at her. She was curled up in the blankets as if she were fast asleep still. Only the blankets were stained with blood and her skin was far too pale for her to be sleeping.

Erik fell to his knees and crawled over toward her.

"Adellade?" he choked out, gently touching her skin, trying not to gasp as he felt how cool she was now, at how strange it now felt to touch her….

He gently moved her, trying not to notice how limp she was, how unresponsive she was, how her arms came streaked with blood, how they stained her dress and skin….

Erik reached toward her arm, wrapping his hand around the wound, instinctively trying to stop the blood. There was simply too much of it. It had to be stopped. He didn't know how to stop it, but it had to be stopped.

"Erik?"

He looked up, seeing Nadir standing there, looking at him.

"I have to do something," he whispered. "To stop it. To help her."

He swallowed, seeing the mirror shard in her hand. He ripped it out of her fingers and half-flung it across the room and out of sight.

"Erik…."

"Why are you just standing there?" Erik pulled her closer, gently cradling her in his arms. "Don't just stand there, Daroga. Do something. Go get help! Just do something to help her!"

He held her in his arms, fighting back the pain in his throat. There was so much blood…. He adjusted her, moving so he could feel for a pulse. There was so much blood-too much of it-there was just too much of it. He needed to stop it, but he couldn't-her heartbeat-it wasn't there-why wasn't he feeling anything? Why couldn't he feel anything there?

"Adellade?" he begged. "Adellade? Please, Adellade. Wake up. Adellade, open your eyes. Please. Please wake up. Adellade. Please. Please. Wake up." He sniffed, burying his face in her hair. "Wake up! Adellade! Wake up! Please! Anything-anything at all-just-just-please." Erik whimpered, tears falling from his eyes as he held her. "Please. Don't do this. I'm begging you. Adellade. No. No. Please. Not like this. Not like this. Please. Wake up. Adellade…."

A hand touched his shoulder and he shook his head, holding on tighter to her. He could hear voices, knew that there were people talking over him, only he couldn't focus on the words. He couldn't tell what they were saying. It didn't matter what they were saying. He needed to get her help. There was too much blood. She wasn't waking up. His Adellade wasn't...he needed to get her help.

Someone tried to pull her away. He tightened his grip on her, refusing to let go. Someone else started to pull him back, tried to say something to him. He shook his head in protest, trying to hold onto her, his fingers slick with blood. There was simply too much of it. There shouldn't be this much blood. Adellade wasn't waking up. She needed him. He had promised to be there for her-he had promised not to leave her. Adellade...his sister...his friend...she needed him.

They pried him away and she was carried away. He tried to go after her, only to find that arms had wrapped around him, that a soft voice was murmuring in his ear, trying to say words to him.

Erik roared and broke free of Christine's grasp, going to try and follow them. He stumbled and fell, watching as the door was slowly closed after her. He stared at the drops of blood on the carpet and his hands balled into fists.

He got to his feet and stood with the nearest chair, lifting it into the air to hurl it against a wall. He moved to another piece of furniture, hurling them over and over. He was upset. He could feel how upset he was, but he didn't want to. Erik didn't want to feel it.

He went to topple the shelves, only to pause, seeing the books all neatly lined up. She would hate for him to damage them. She loved her books. Adellade loved her books….

Erik whimpered, falling his knees. He could hear the sound of feet approaching. Christine knelt by him, still saying things, still trying to say words to him.

She began singing to him. It was soft at first, but then he heard it. One of the Swedish lullabies her father had taught her-one of the ones she had sung to Gustave whenever he had been upset to comfort him, to help stop his tears.

He placed his head in her lap and curled up, feeling her hands gently caress him the way a mother would comfort her son-or at least the way he had imagined a mother would comfort her son. She kept singing and he kept listening, being drawn in, taking what little comfort he could find now.

He felt like a boy. He felt so lost and helpless now. He didn't know what to do-for once in his life he didn't know what to do anymore. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, to satisfy the pain in his chest, yet he couldn't. He couldn't. All he could do was lay there, listening to Christine's singing, the endless thoughts drowning in his mind.

He hadn't felt anything-nothing at all...and there had been so much blood….

XXXXX

Summary: Nightmares are bad. Adellade's dead. Erik knows. He's not happy.

A/N: I'm sorry.