Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera, or any of the characters.

Chapter Ten

"How do I look? Is it too much? Please be honest," the young diva said, smoothing out her dress repeatedly. Meg sighed, tugging at the dress here and there.

"You look lovely as ever. I don't think you could ever look terrible even if you tried to. Right Maman?" She turned her head towards her mother, who stood behind her, smiling gently.

"Yes my dear. You look so graceful in that dress. Do not fret, my child." She allowed a quick smile to brush across her usually serious face.

"Very well then, it's best to depart now. I advise you that you should be as quick as possible, before the Vicomte returns. Do what you must do, and say only what needs to be said. If you do not return in time, it's best for your safety if you do not come back at all. In this way, he can't harm you."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Christine," Madame Giry began. She looked directly into her eyes. She only ever called her by her name when she was dead serious. "Be careful, please." She nodded, walking over to the wall. With the help of her daughter, Madame Giry pried back the few boards they'd managed to partially remove.

"On you go, go on," she said, her face slightly worried. She placed one foot in, then the other, and in seconds, she was gone.

"I do not know what was going through my mind when I told her that she was better off with the Vicomte," she said, letting go of the boards.

"What do you mean, Maman?"

"I told her she was better off with him. I-I suppose I was just so scared of Erik getting hurt again. I though perhaps, if he never had her at all, the pain wouldn't be so horrid. I was wrong. Our Vicomte is a man of unspeakable actions. Because of what he's done to Christine, Erik's opera has been cancelled, Christine is crumbling away, and I'm unsure of what is to happen for the first time in years." Meg padded over to her, her face full of comfort and warmth.

"Oh my dear Maman. Please, do not fret. I'm sure everything will piece together in the end. It must, for people as lovely as Christine should not suffer such a cruel fate. She doesn't deserve such a thing. Please, smile Maman," she said, her voice slightly cracking. Her mother allowed a small smile to flash across her face.

"Dear look at me, falling to pieces. Forgive me for worrying you, my sweet child," she said, kissing her daughter's forehead. "Come along, we must keep checking the entrance, in case the Vicomte arrives."

XOXOX

Time after time had she been through these dank, dim lit halls, yet this was her most frightening journey ever. She knew not of what Erik would do to her, or himself. She was nervous about what she would see when she arrived, whether he'd be there or not. On top of all this, the thing she feared most was his rejection. Not that she should blame him for doing so, after all she'd done, or hadn't.

All these questions spun around in her head like a hundred bees pestering about. It wasn't until she almost passed the edge of the dock that she snapped out of her stupor. She looked down, lips trembling. All her questions were almost answered by the absence of the small boat that always transported her to and fro Erik's residence. She fell to her knees, heavy droplets streaming down her pallid face. What now? The question floated around in her mind like an autumn leaf on a still lake for what seemed like hours. But she couldn't afford to waste time, not now. Though she'd prefer to never resurface anyway…But no, if she didn't, Raoul would surely go looking for her, and he'd already caused more than enough havoc. Time was wasting, and her mind was racing. Then, it was upon her, so suddenly and so clear.

In seconds, her dress was in a neat heap next to her, and her shoes were tossed aside. Her skin was like gooseflesh before her toes even skimmed the glittering surface of the water. The iciness of it sent shockwaves to her mind, forcing her body to scream in protest. Yet her heart was in another realm. Thoughts raced in her mind still, but one idea remained constant: if she had forced Erik to freeze his outer exterior and turn his heart cold, then she could force herself to endure the same pain.

Taking a deep, steady breath, she took the body-numbing plunge.

A/N: I'll leave you with that little piece, as I'm still working on it, trying to see where I'm going. Sorry so short.