At last! Today is a monumental day. It is the day I finally release a climatic battle for the world to see for the first time. Oh how very, very exciting! SQUEL! (cough) anyway, I hope you enjoy!

This is kinda random, but the other day I was at a local horse show and there was one horse that was all dark bay except for the right side of his face, which was white. I laughed.

Also, I noticed that there's a factual error in my fic (le gasp!). In the 1800's in France, they would've used the 24 hour clock. So in this chapter, they're saving Madeline at 23h00.

BTW, I did realize that any old idiot could do what Henri did with a sword (thank you, HPFanatic2478, for being blunt with me). I need to work on that whole "obvious ignorance" thing. Just pretend he has skills, ok?

Chapter 16: The Struggle

It was like Henri had swallowed a stone, the feeling he had now as he adjusted his sword belt. They were in the sitting room, getting ready. Erik was watching him. The taller man showed no emotion on his face. He had his own rapier at his hip, covered by the black cloak he was wearing. Armand was pulling on his gloves. Genevieve sat next to her father, also stolid. Henri checked his watch. 22h28.

"It's almost half past." He said, breaking the silence.

"Well, I'm ready." said Armand in an unnaturally cheery voice. Why is that man always so happy? Henri asked in his mind. He stood, and the four made their way to the door.

"Genny," Henri kneeled by his daughter "We're leaving now. Promise me you'll be good."

Genevieve looked at the floor and didn't respond.

"We must go now." Erik said quietly, but also urgently.

"I love you." Henri said and kissed Genevieve's forehead. Then he straightened up and the three men left the house together.

From outside, they could see the faces of the servants glancing out the windows, bidding them a silent farewell. They all knew how dangerous this was going to be. They had all heard stories about groups of police officers going into the recently-discovered headquarters of a gang, and none of them coming out in a good way, if they came out at all. Based on the description Erik gave them, though, there was a chance their enemies would be too drunk to fight well. Although, the problem with that was that they might be drunk enough to fight well. And their leader sounded rather powerful. He had a gun. Erik had told them about how he had tried to shoot him, and had showed them his arm, which had not yet fully healed. Swords weren't going to save them from a bullet.

Armand drummed his fingers on the pommel of his one of his swords nervously (he had two, one on each side). He had never gone on a rescue mission before. All his experience with fighting had been organized, honorable sport. These men weren't going to follow the rules of fencing. He sighed silently. If I die, it shall be for a good cause.

Snow began to fall as they entered the sketchier part of the city. It sparkled in the light of the streetlamp and landed harmlessly on the trio's heads. Henri gazed at it and remembered a time, only two years ago, that had been much like this, at least whether wise anyway. It had been Christmas Eve and the family had just returned home from mass. They hadn't even gone up to the apartment when someone knocked on the shop door. Carolers. The group had decided to go house to house along the street as they made their way home. Most of them were people they knew. Regular visitors at the shop were there, like M. Anatole Lavent and old Mme. Grinçante. Some of Madeline's friends were there. Same with Genevieve's, only their parents were accompanying them. After they sang a few songs, Henri escorted them all upstairs. There they moved at the chairs in the house into the living room and started a large fire in the fireplace. They all sat and chatted and laughed and sang as drinks were handed around. It was the sort of picture you saw on Christmas cards, with everyone being merry with no cares in the world and sitting like one big family. Will those times ever come again?

Erik led the band, beckoning them to follow him into hiding places as they got closer and closer to their destination. He didn't have time to let his mind wander. The other two men obeyed his every command. When they were told to run, they ran. Soon, Erik discovered it was hard for him to keep his hood covering his mask completely at all times. It reflected the eerie glow of the street lights, so it was quite noticeable. Finally, he took a deep breath and removed it while they were crouching in a doorway and tucked it safely into his cloak. It is time for reality and I to meet face to face.

---

The trio stood in a black alleyway next to a two storey building that looked like it was going to collapse if the wind blew at all. There were holes in the wall and the windows were empty frames, all the glass lying on the street outside. The creaks it made sounded almost like moaning. Sometimes, it almost seemed to be swaying back and forth.

"My daughter is in there?"

"Yes. What were you expecting?"

Henri didn't know how to answer. It didn't matter though, because Erik started whispering to them. "I'm going inside. Stand across the street. When I want you to follow me, I'll wave to you from that window to the left of the front door. Have your weapons ready." He ran off. The others followed his orders and stood on the opposite side of the road.

Erik drew his rapier and stepped inside slowly. Nothing moved or made sound. He advanced forward another few strides. He listened hard. He heard talking upstairs, but the lower level was silent. He decided to search it, just to be safe.

He walked down the hall, hiding in the shadows. He checked all the rooms except for one. There was no one in any of them. How lucky. He made his way to the final room where the window from which he was to signal from was. He crept in as he had done before to a dark corner and scanned the room. Nothing had been ruffled by his entry. Then, by the window, he saw a man sitting asleep in a chair that was against the wall. He snored quietly. Erik saw that he had a sword and a dagger on his belt. He was clearly supposed to be on duty. Erik was clearly supposed to get rid of him.

The Phantom raised his blade and came quite close to slicing through the watch's throat, when something stopped him. "You're about to kill someone." A voice said.

Yes, I've done that before. He shifted his grip and was about to strike when he heard it again. "You are going to end a complete stranger's life."

"I've been spending too much time with other people." He mused. He chuckled and adjusted his position again. He shifted his foot. The floorboard beneath him gave an inconvenient groan. The other man startled and sat bolt upright. Erik stepped back into the shadows. The guard saw him briefly before he disappeared. He stood and unsheathed his weapons. He glanced nervously around the room. Erik pulled his cloak tighter. The floor groaned beneath him. The stranger wheeled around and pointed his sword at the shadows. He still didn't see Erik, but the latter could see him very well. The watch's eyes were darting about, still hinted with sleepiness. He advanced, searching for his unseen foe.

Erik was sure he was beginning to see the outline of his form when a very well-timed wind shook the whole building, making the shutters bang and walls quiver. The guard turned for a split second, and Erik found his chance. He leapt from the corner and pinned the man face-down on the floor, his hood thrown back and his face fully exposed. The guard's head was turned and his left eye stared terrified at the disfigurement. Erik was poised to sever several important veins that connected to the brain when he once again found himself frozen. He remembered a time when he was being chased by a mob, a mob that would have shot him in the back like and animal without a second thought. Was this going to be part of his victory? Murdering a completely defenseless man he didn't even know? If they had been in a swordfight, maybe, but now?

Erik decided the best way to remedy this situation was to simply knock the guard unconscious. He was about to do this when he felt a heavy weight hit him from the side. Before he could respond, he was struck again and fell away from the guard who was lying on the ground. His former captive ran out of sight. Erik felt the attack again. He lunged at his attacker with his sword. A surprised yell filled the room and the enemy fell. Erik scamper to the window and waved at the huddled figures across the street.

For a moment, he thought he saw something run from the shadows of an alley and out of sight.

---

Tonight. They were coming to save her very soon. Madeline had stopped caring about whether or not she was truly saved. She could die, and it wouldn't matter. But the thought of someone caring, someone trying to save her from a life with her terrible kidnapper, made all the difference in the world. She knew that things were not going to become brighter again for a while after. She considered something else. I'll need to tell Papa sometime. I can't hide it for more than a month. I wonder how he will react.

Bakar burst in. The door slammed against the wall and made her jump. He barked some orders to the guard and he stood by the door and stared blankly at the air in front of him. Bakar opened the cage and crouched in front of the entrance.

"Good evening, eder. I noticed the moon is wonderfully bright. It's very romantic." He reached in and wrapped his fingers around Madeline's wrist. "I am horribly lonely bihotzeko. I'm sure you are too, staying in this cage all day long." He tugged on her arm and tried to pull her out. Madeline remembered his wrath earlier that day. There was no way he would be this kind now unless he had something planned again. She grabbed a bar at the back of the cage. The man frowned. "Oh, kutun, I forgot. I apologize for how I acted this morning. I was very unfair to you. I haven't gotten much sleep lately. It's been very cold." He tried to pull her out again. She held fast.

"I'm still thirsty." She tried to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. They're coming soon.

"I remembered that" He reached into a pouch around his waist and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. "Here. It's the finest in this whole district." He offered it to her. She refused. "It's quite tasty." He removed the cork. She could smell the raw spirits. One third of that bottle was enough to make her giddily intoxicated. She decided she was going to have to find a new distraction if she wish to rekindle any of her dignity at all. She crawled out. They stood, Bakar all the time holding her wrist tight. The young woman made an effort to act interested in him. It pleased him. She took a deep breath. On the other hand, things couldn't get much worse. There was no point in delaying anything. She might as well try to stand up for herself.

"I hate you."

He froze and glared at her. Did I miss hear you, ematze?"

"No."

Bakar flew into a rage. He slapped her, hard. "I do not take attitude, puta!" He dragged her with him as he reached for his whip and removed it from its hook. Madeline remained stolid. As he was ripping open the back of her bodice, though, she heard the distant chime of church bells, tolling the hour (A/N: please don't take that whole bodice thing the wrong way). She counted. One. Two. Three.

Whack. Four. Whack. The blows sped up. Madeline ignored the pain and listened to the toll something about it kept her from feeling the whip's sting, that kept her sane.

Twnety-one. Whack. Twenty-two. Whack. Twenty-three.

"Sir! Downstairs! There's someone trying to get up here. One's already cut Jacques, badly, too."

Madeline became the happiest person alive.

Bakar pushed the girl back into her cage. "How many?" he demanded.

"Three."

"Four of you, go down. The rest had better get here as fast as they can."

---

Armand had taken about six steps inside the old building when four thugs rushed down the stairs straight at him.

"Stand next to me! Draw your sword!" Henri hurried into position. One of the other men tripped on the last step and landed heavily on his face. The others leaped over him and attacked.

Henri found himself locked in a battle with another swordsman. The enemy was eager to draw blood. Henri didn't have time to fear for his life. He blocked for a long time, waiting for the opportune moment. Armand was against the two others still standing. They had a foot-long dagger and two clubs for weapons. The man with the clubs was trying to hit Armand on the head while the other was feverishly stabbing at his torso. After a minute or so the fallen one reappeared again and went to attack Henri. Luckily, he was completely drunk. Henri tried very hard not to laugh when he missed his target and ran straight into a wall.

The other man fighting with him, though, was a bit more aware. For the instant Henri was distracted, he slashed at him. Henri gasped and stumbled, grasping at his stomach. It took him a moment or two to realize he wasn't bleeding at all. His shirt wasn't even ripped. There had been force behind the blow, enough that could have killed him. Why wasn't he dying? He looked at the sword. It was a blunt practice blade. This gave the shoemaker more confidence. He struck out and hit the opposite man in the shoulder. The brute yelp and dropped his dull sword. Henri whacked him firmly in the head with his pommel, and he staggered backward and fell heavily to the floor. Henri felt more powerful then he ever had.

Armand's attackers had not noticed their fallen comrade. Henri forced his blade forward and thrust it hard into the man with the dagger's upper arm. Giving a cry of pain, the thug turned around the see Henri raise his arm and hit him firmly on the head. No matter how strong the father felt, he wasn't prepared to take a life.

Erik ran in at that point. He had been in the other room, completely winded. And he would not be surprised if his rib was cracked again. Not that that mattered. He saw the man with clubs beating Armand, so he ran and struck him on the skull (A/N: that's happening a lot, isn't it?)

The trio looked at the men on the ground before them. The drunk was still conscious, but he was muttering nonsense at the floor, so they decided it would be best not to bother him. Henri looked over to Erik. His hood was down and he could see his disfigurement. It was strange, it didn't trouble him now. Perhaps looking at Armand's scars for three straight days had made him more tolerant.

Erik was the first one to advance up the steps. He beckoned for the others to follow him. He led them down a hall and to a closed door. He held his ear up to it. He heard nothing. He motioned for the others to stay back and opened the door.

There was a moment of pure, absolute silence. Then suddenly a bang resounded through the house and Erik was pinned against a wall by a huge man with a knife. A very, very bad feeling began developing in Henri's gut. Armand stood still for a moment, and then ran at the thug with his sword drawn. The shoemaker decided he didn't want to see the result, so before the others even collided, he was in the room.

He found himself face to face with about six or seven other men. One lunged at him with a sword drawn. Henri struck out, but was caught by surprise when his foe grabbed his blade, held it still, and poked him in the chest. His sword was blunt, too. Just when Henri thought he might win, five others leaped forward. Erik suddenly appeared and stabbed the first man in the side. Things moved too fast to really see, but Henri soon found himself back to back with Erik, and they were surrounded by five men. Erik whispered something.

"Armand's down."

"What?"

"Big gash in his arm. I don't know if he can fight."

"Oh grand . . ."

Erik decided to break the silence at last and lunged with his sword. The other man parried, and soon they were fighting. Henri found himself battling two others. It was one of the most difficult things he had ever had to manage. He had to block and turn around fast enough to block another blow and turn around again to stop himself being stabbed. He was worn out in a matter of seconds. There was no way he could win. He was never going to see Madeline again . . .

The man in front of him fell. A second later, the other did too. Henri looked to see Armand standing there, his swords glittering with fresh blood. To the father's alarm, he saw it was not the only thing bloodstained. Armand's left sleeve was soaked with a deep scarlet liquid. Blood was dripping off of Armand's fingers. Him limb was rather limp, and Henri was surprised he could hold anything at all. The rich man was grinning, though, and kicked one of the fallen in the head. He had not killed either of them.

Erik, on the other hand, was not quite so well off. First, he had three opponents. Second, no one was helping him. Things got even worse when he saw that his friends were also locked in a battle with fresh challengers and couldn't come to his aid. He was a better fighter than Henri, though, so he did not grow weary nearly as fast.

Armand slashed one man across the torso and kicked him over. He was hungry for combat despite his arm. He looked over his shoulder and saw Erik fighting three men. He caught one man's attention and the two began to fight. This clash was longer than the others. This man was an accomplished swordsman. Still, Armand came very close to defeating him many times, but his injury stopped him.

The Phantom's luck improved when Armand interfered. He wounded both the other men and found himself next to a cage, facing a man. A man he had seen before. His attempted murderer and Madeline's kidnapper. Bakar.

The criminal glared at him in astonishment. "You're supposed to be dead!"

"How rude of me." Erik said sarcastically. "Perhaps this shall not be such a problem once I am finished with you."

Bakar smirked. "So I am the villain now? I am the one they want to kill? I remember, vaguely, when it was the opposite."

Erik froze. A terrible realization dawned on him. This whole time he'd been a hypocrite. Raoul had felt exactly as he did now when the Phantom had taken Christine down to his lair. He thought about La Carlotta's horror as she found the dead body of her lover. People had died in the fire caused by the chandelier. Erik had threatened and destroyed countless relationships. But when Madeline had been kidnapped he had thought "how could anyone do such a thing? How could anyone devastate a family like that?" All this time I've –

Whack

The stinging of a whip was all too familiar. Erik crumpled to the ground. Blood trickled into his eye. He gazed up at the other man, his whip like a snake prepared to bite. Erik was a little boy again; defenseless, barely human-like, finally submitting to his master's cruelty once he saw the futility of fleeing.

"Isn't it interesting how psychological warfare works?" Bakar struck him again. "At first your provoker will seem so confident, but in a matter of a few words they are on the ground, completely at your mercy." The flogging continued between words. "All one needs is a brief knowledge of your opponent's past and regrets." He intensified the beatings yet again. Erik cowered beneath them. "I loved Madeline, from the moment I saw her while I worked as a servant. When I learned that she may never be at the house again, I fled and tried to find her that very night. I saw her father from a distance and followed him. I kept a close watch on the home for many days. I decided you posed a threat to me, so when you left I tried to kill you. I organized a plan to kidnap her so she would be mine, and mine only. She belongs to me!"

From the corner of his eye, Henri saw a cloaked figure on the ground. Above him, Bakar was raining blows on the disfigured man with his whip. While he was distracted, the only remaining thug dove at him with his rapier. Henri felt a sharp twinge in his lower thigh and collapsed with a little cry of pain. He looked around the room as his fell. Armand could no longer fight; he had lost too much blood. He lay hardly conscious amongst the forms of his foes. Henri looked to the cage, and his heart skipped a beat. His daughter stared back at him. He smiled. He hadn't thought he would see her again. "Je t'aime." He whispered. There was no chance of them winning now. They had failed. But as Henri looked at the woman's face, he wondered what it really meant to win. He saw the man before him raise his sword to kill him. Henri waited to die. He was content.

"Halt! All of you!"

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned.

There in the doorway stood a squad of armed policemen, led by a little girl named Genevieve.

As the thugs stared dumbfounded, Erik gathered some of his wits. He reached one bleeding arm up to Bakar's belt and took the ring of keys. As he fumbled, Henri dragged himself over. The Phantom unlocked the prison. Madeline almost ran out and hugged her father. As the police began the process of taking the enemies from the house, the little band gathered themselves together. Supporting each other, they left the building.

It was not until much later that Erik realized he had not been wearing his mask.

BTW, that's not the end. There are a couple chapters still to go. I would really, really like to hear feed back on this. PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!! I ask everyone who reads this to leave a comment. I don't care if it's anonymous. I don't care if it's just "that's nice" or "There are some things you could fix:" or "OMG dat wz kewl!!1!". JUST REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!