Days of sailing, and countless charting on Erik's behalf, passed in the mere blink of an eye. The Black Pearl had not been sighted, yet they were nearing a certain destination of theirs; Tortuga.

Raoul, as first mate, had been overseeing the rest of the crew with Meg, who introduced him to each and every stagehand aboard. Soon he'd learned nearly every name, had helped at the helm, the rigging, and had taught half the stagehands to fight with a sword and gun.

This particular day was good for sailing. The sky was a perfect, cloudless blue, and yet an air of worry hung about the ship; they were set on finding and rescuing Christine, and so far, the lookout wasn't bright.

Meg was as happy-go-lucky as ever. Trotting up to Raoul, she said, "Erik needs to talk to you."

Raoul was still shocked from getting along with the Phantom. Only three years earlier, the two were trying to kill each other, and now they were working together, as a team. It was a surprising change for both parties, and essentially awkward since both loved the same woman still.

Raoul walked silently into the captain's cabin, wondering what the captain was up to now. Erik sat at his desk, tracing lines on a map. He looked up, nodded, and looked back down at the map.

"Have a seat, de Chagny," Erik said. Raoul pulled one of the armchairs in front of the desk, his eyes following the lines and routes of the map.

"I have a basic idea now of the Black Pearl's entire course. She'll be docking in Tortuga around the same time we do, which gives us time to find out Christine's whereabouts, if anyone's been involved in rescue plans aboard the ship, and any other important detail. I say rescue plans," Erik explained, "because some pirates will pity her and attempt to help her."

Raoul nodded. "Do you know when we'll arrive in Tortuga?"

"A day, at most," Erik said, "maybe even a few hours."

"Good," Raoul said. He eyed the masked captain warily, contemplating.

"Yes?"

"You still love her." It wasn't a question.

Erik looked away sadly, tears of remorse and pain filling his eyes. "Of course I do. She was, still is, my reason for everything; my reason to sing, my reason to compose, which explains the intimacy in Don Juan, my reason to live. After she left…" Here the captain paused, tears spilling under his mask. "I considered suicide. There was nothing left for me in this world. She was gone… if it weren't for Antoinette and her daughter, I wouldn't be here right now."

Raoul was silent for some time, pondering the Phantom's words. "Why? Why did you love her?"

Erik was shocked. "Why?" he asked in return. Of course the Vicomte wouldn't know, he thought. Where was he all those years? Not with her, of course. I was.

"Christine…" He said her name delicately, as if it might break on his tongue. "Ever since she first moved into the opera dormitories, I had been watching over her, tutoring her as the Angel of Music. Of course, I'm no angel, as she knows now."

"Why did you tell her that you were, then?" Raoul asked.

Erik raised an eyebrow. "Do you honestly believe that if I walked up to her with a mask on my face and tried to talk to her, she would respond? Not run away, frightened?"

When Raoul didn't answer, Erik nodded. "Exactly. Everything I did was done for a reason, Vicomte. So I became her angel. I taught her to sing, I comforted her after her father's death, I was always around to cheer her up or sing her lullabies at night." The captain's eyes grew distance, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

"And then you came…" The smile disappeared, melting into a frown. "She ran into your arms like a scared child after she saw my face. I was furious. Where had you been while she was mourning her father? Not with her. Where were you when she needed a companion, and the little Giry was running errands for her mother? Not with her. Where were you when she needed someone to comfort her, protect her?" Erik clutched the side of the desk angrily, fuming. "Not with her."

Raoul's eyes had widened considerably during his rant.

"It was all because of my face," he continued with a sigh. "If I hadn't a deformity, would I have needed to lie to her to earn her love? Of course not."

Raoul felt a surge of pity for the man, remembering the tale Madame Giry had told him about how she'd found him.

"Regardless," Erik said, the gloomy expression fading, "I was still determined to make her mine. That's where the Red Death and Don Juan Triumphant came in."

"You didn't plan on her taking off the mask," Raoul said.

Erik nodded. "That, she did on her own accord. Or, should I say," here he glared at Raoul, "your plan."

Raoul nodded reluctantly. "Don't look at me like that- I didn't know it would turn out this way."

Erik shook his head. "No, you didn't." He sat back down at the desk, and only then did Raoul realize that the two men had stood up somewhere during the conversation.

"Well," Erik said, picking up a pen to write on the map with. "now you do."

Raoul swallowed, walking toward the door. As he left, he could've sworn he heard the captain say, and in the saddest tone he'd ever hear in his life, "Now you know what you've done to me."

Christine sat in her cabin, her dressing gown wrinkled, yet still surprisingly clean, given the circumstances she was in, her hair still in a loose bun, curls spewing out to frame her face, which was, at the moment, pale with fright. Pintel, one of the men who'd kidnapped her, came down to tell her that the Pearl had docked in Tortuga. The pirate crew would be ashore the rest of the day, save for Christine in her cabin, and Elizabeth in the brig.

"Ragetti and I," Pintel had said, "we feel sort of bad for you. And since we ain't immortal anymore, we best be protecting our immortal souls. So… we figured we'd help ye escape, along with the pirate king."

Christine's eyes widened. "Really?"

Pintel nodded. "While we're here, we'll be helping Mrs. Turner escape the brig, then commandeer another ship for the four of us. Ye'll be in Paris in a week's time, milady."

Christine couldn't believe her ears. "But what about Erik Destler? My husband?"

Pintel frowned. "We'll do our best to keep 'em safe."

Christine eased her back along the wall with a sigh as the pirate left.

"Oh, dear Lord," Christine whispered. "Please, keep them safe."