Sorry for the delay! I couldn't help myself... i started another story in addition to this one. If you get a chance, check that one out too!

s/11035215/1/Nothing-But-a-Man

Thanks for all the on-going support!

Also, i need to say, apologies for what could be spelling errors... we Australians go by the English spelling, and sometimes not everything is picked up by this site or my eyes. They are usually quite tired because i neglect to wear my glasses... ANYWAY

Onward and upward! Or... Erikward!

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber!


Found you.

Erik's breath caught in his chest. His mind began to spiral into a panic. He had made many enemies over the years; narrowing it down would not be a simple task. Who was this? Did they know about Christine? Had they been watching them? How much time did he have? Why would someone send a threatening letter to warn him?

He didn't know whether or not to show his discovery to Christine. She had proven quite mature throughout their ordeal but he did not want to cause her undue worry.

Deciding against it he stuffed the letter into his pocket and walked inside to find Christine reading a book in the living room. She was sitting there in complete ignorant bliss; reading a book as casually as could be, unaware of what the future could hold. She looked beautiful; the setting sun was falling warmly on her chocolate curls, illuminating her perfect skin in a way such that she resembled an angel... Erik could not help but smirk at the beautiful twist of irony. He had hoped for more time with her... Perhaps this was all he would be allowed... a few short moments of bliss; it was probably more than he deserved...

"How did the letter go...? Did you finish it?" He began absentmindedly.

"No." She replied. "I started but I couldn't find the right words, perhaps I will have more luck later on."

He nodded and began looking around and shifting uncomfortably where he stood.

Later on... There may not be a later on...

He had no idea how to tell Christine of his discovery... his gaze was fixed on a nearby vase; as if searching it for answers he could not find elsewhere. He looked back at her. She was so innocent... so dependent upon him. She had put her trust entirely in his hands. He had promised that he would keep her safe and he had already broken that promise once. He had to tell her...

"You have a fine library in this house, Erik. Do you update it regularly?" She asked, looking up from her book.

"Christine I... I don't think we ought to stay here..." He blurted almost directly after she had spoken.

Christine's eyes widened. She placed her book down on her seat and stood up. "Why? What's happened?"

A knock sounded at the door.

Christine jumped.

Immediately Erik made a gesture for her to remain silent and walked over to her with feline stealth.

He had waited too late. Surely, this was it; this was the end of it all. The end of hope, the end of happiness, the end of him. He should have taken Christine and left as soon as he had seen the letter.

Christine did not speak but her eyes anxiously questioned him as he gestured for her to stand against the wall and out of sight. He looked down at her, just moments ago she had been sitting relaxedly with a book; a look of utter placation on her face that he would never know. Now she looked up at him with nothing but terror in her eyes. She was questioning him; searching his eyes for answers, begging for them. These were answers however that he did not have. He had been so contented, so beautifully distracted these past hours that he had failed to formulate a real plan. Perhaps he had thought they would have more time... either way it was terribly ignorant of him to think that it could be this easy. That he had suffered enough. That someone like him could simply be with the one he loved... that someone like him could simply be at all. Part of him knew better... the better part. Smiling at Christine, he bent down, closed his eyes and kissed her forehead.

I am so sorry, Christine.

Another knock sounded.

Erik's heart pounded in his chest. Christine continued to search him for answers but he could not speak. What had he done? Pulling himself together he silently strode over to a small table on the other side of the room and removed a pistol that was hidden beneath it. Remaining silent would not do; those on the other side of the door was already aware of their presence.

"Christine..." He whispered in a voice barely audible. "I'm going to open the door..."

After looking down at the pistol in his hand she did not protest. She nodded, the look of utter fear and dependence never leaving her face.

The knock sounded a third time.

Erik clenched his jaw and shakily grasped the door handle. He was prepared to pull it open and fire at the person behind it when a familiar voice sounded.

"Erik? Are you there? Is Christine there? It is me... Antoinette..."

Madame Giry...?

He had had an inkling that she might pay him a visit, if only to check on Christine... It certainly was a relief but there were still doubts in his mind as to whether to open the door. Would she have come alone? Surely she would have; she was more aware of his habits and afflictions than anyone... But could he take that chance...?

"I am alone." She added, as if reading his thoughts through the door. "If you are there please open the door. I promise you that I am alone. I only wish to know of Christine's safety... and of yours..."

Before Erik knew what he was doing he had begun to speak. "How..." He cursed himself as soon as the first syllable had left his mouth. He had forgotten himself. He had always felt a strange sense of affection for this woman; at a time she had looked after him and vice versa. He had always been able to relax around her... as much as someone like him was capable of doing so... and it seemed as though she still had that effect on him. Reluctantly he to finish what he was saying.

"How... do I know that you are alone... how can I trust you?"

"You must." She said, her voice muffled through the thick, wooden door.

At the sound of Madame Giry's voice, Christine's face had lit up. Now, she was desperately pulling at his sleeve.

"Please, Erik. It will be alright." She begged. Erik was aware of the bond that had formed between the two of them and while he was aware of the risks involved, he could not resist Christine's plea.

"Is that you, Christine?" The voice called. "Are you alright?" Erik was aware of the implications in this statement. Are you alright was actually has he hurt you... Regardless, he did not have the heart to deny this of his Angel when he had put her through so much.

Slowly, he opened the door. He peered cautiously around it but before he could pull it open entirely, Christine had rushed through it and embraced the woman on the other side. Erik could not help but smile fondly at this.

"Thank goodness. You are alright." She breathed into Christine's curls. She looked at Erik who stood behind Christine, one hand on the door, the other by his side, still clutching the pistol. At first, her expression was accusatory but quickly changed to concern as her eyes were met with the cuts and bruises that were still fresh on his face.

He looked at her awkwardly. Yes, she was closer to him than any other living soul, but she had not seen him in such a state of vulnerability... not for many years. She had never seen him in such a state of domesticity and the longer she stared at him, the more he wished to leave the two women to their reunion...

Christine clung to Madame Giry and wept; an act that complied Erik's feeling of unease. Was he really that bad? Had it all been so terrible...? He had to tell himself otherwise. Perhaps Christine was simply in need of a mother figure. The last few hours had been a lot to take and she was still quite young...

"It was so terrible..." Christine cried.

Terrible...

"I was so afraid."

Afraid...

"I thought they were going to kill him..." She wept.

She was crying for him?

For him?

"...You should both come inside, it isn't safe."

Christine slowly pulled away from Madame Giry and as they walked inside, her sobbing eased. Madame Giry walked to Erik and examined his face.

"Madame." He said, uncomfortably. He was wearing his mask but he wasn't accustomed being under such close scrutiny.

"What have they done?" She asked rhetorically.

"It's fine." He replied awkwardly.

"I am glad that you are alright."

Much to Erik's surprise, she looked at him a second longer before pulling him into an embrace. Immediately, he winced at the harsh contact on his ribs. She gasped and pulled away, questioning him with her eyes.

"Fracture, I suspect." He said, nonchalantly.

"Those monsters." Her voice was filled with emotion. "I was so worried for you, Erik. I really was."

"You need not worry about me, Madame. You have done enough for me..." He said quietly. She flinched visibly at a memory she had not visited for some time.

"I have always worried for you." She turned to Christine who was watching them both with interest. "And for you, Christine."

Erik turned to Christine. He had momentarily forgotten about her presence. He could not hide the warm smile that spread across his lips when he was reminded. She smiled back at him. She was so beautiful, and against all odds she cared for him... He had to keep her safe. If nothing else, he had to do that. He needed to speak with Madame Giry alone. "Christine, would you please fetch me a jacket from upstairs?"

"Uh... alright. What about the one you left on the divan? Is that not to your liking?"

Of course. Damn...

"No it... doesn't fit quite right. You should fetch my robe for yourself too... this house can get quite cold at night."

"Oh. Alright." Christine acquiesced innocently.

As soon as she had left to climb the stairs, Madame Giry spoke.

"What is it, Erik? What is wrong?" Clearly she was aware of his plan to distract Christine...

Hastily, Erik pulled the note out of his pocket that he had discovered earlier. She took it and a look of horror washed over her as she read the words scribbled on the paper.

"Do you know who it is?" She asked.

"No... It could be anyone..."

"Erik, this is not good."

"I know that..."

"You have a lot of enemies."

"I know that!" He yelled. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry... I am... under a lot of pressure, as you can imagine."

"No matter. What did Christine say?"

"I... haven't showed her yet..."

"You what!? Erik, this concerns her too. You need to tell her."


Christine walked up the stairs at Erik's request; it was an odd request, but he was an odd man. It was strange seeing Erik and Madame Giry in the same room. They had both been such strong influences to her growing up... even now, that it only made sense for them to be friends, if that is what they were. Moreover it was strange to see Erik interacting so comfortably with someone. How long had they known each other? How exactly did they meet? They seemed to share secrets, exchange glances that she could not quite connect to...

She had hoped to see Meg as well... but it probably wasn't safe. Seeing Madame Giry was enough... She had not realized how much she had missed her until this night. Truthfully, she had not thought about anyone except Erik and Raoul since they had left the Opera. She cursed her selfishness... Surely she could have spared a thought for Madame Giry's safety when she had ceaselessly worried for hers.

When she reached the bedroom and opened Erik's wardrobe. Again, she was faced with multiple pairs of trousers, shirts and jackets. Indulging herself in her stolen time alone she pulled one of his many shirts off the hanger and examined it. She held the fabric between her fingers... It was thick... probably expensive. It was real... so real. He was so real to her now and the thought delighted her. Months ago he had been a mere specter... an illusion she had convinced herself lived only in her mind... now he was real, he was Erik and she was selecting clothes for him as if he were a normal man. He was a normal man...

She smiled and and selected another jacket for him at random. They all looked identical to her... how could the one down stairs have been any different? Shrugging her shoulders she pulled it off the hanger and scooped his robe up off the floor for herself. Christine left the bedroom and turned to look at it before closing the door. She smiled to herself.

Their bedroom.

She closed the door and continued down stairs.


"When did you find this?"

"Just before you arrived."

Madame Giry sighed and began pacing.

"Do you have any idea at all who it could be?"

Erik was looking down at the floor, rubbing his lip irritably. He looked at her briefly and shook his head.

"You don't think..."

"What?" He looked up again.

"The... gypsies?"

"No! Of course not." He dismissed her immediately, storming across the room to peer through the drapes. The sun had almost set, it was now dusk; usually his favorite time. Tonight though, it did nothing but fill him with dread. "How could they possibly find me? After all this time? Impossible."

"Don't dismiss anything, Erik. You don't know..."

"Don't know what?" Christine had returned. She handed Erik's jacket to him and draped his cloak around her shoulders. "Don't know what?" She repeated.

Erik looked at Madame Giry who handed the note back to him and gestured to Christine.

"What's that?" She asked, looking at the note in his hand.

Erik sighed and handed it to her. "I found this just before Madame Giry arrived. I do not know where it's from or who it could be..."

Christine's eyes filled with fear once more as she read the note. She looked up.

"I didn't know whether to show it to you or not... We need to leave, Christine."

"I am so sorry." He said; a look of defeat upon his face.

Before anyone could utter another word, a sound reached their ears; a sound which filled them with dread. A loud knock sounded at the door followed by a harsh command;

"Open up!"