A/N: Humour me with my changes to Lefevre's departure. I like it better this way…

Chapter 23- Because of You

The lights dipped and then glowed, dipped and then glowed. At least they knew that the gas was working properly. Not that that mattered particularly at this stage, there was still a few days until opening night. Antoinette was sitting in the fourth row, watching the chorus rehearse the opening scene of Act two. She had to admit that the whole thing was coming along nicely and much, much quicker than she had expected. The cast had already had three dress rehearsals.

There was another this afternoon.

She knew that she was spending too much of her time at the Opera Populair but, and not for the first time in her life, it was proving to be her sanctuary. It was simply that she could not face going home some days. She felt betrayal all around her there, everywhere she looked, Scott barely spoke and she knew that Laurent was still in the spare bedroom.

Scott insisted that he was not ready to leave, not well enough, but what was she to do? Laurent had turned his back on them after they had given him anything and everything he needed. Scott was always the optimist, Meg got that side of herself from him, believing that Laurent repented. Although she had forbidden it, she knew that Scott visited him to speak with him.

She supposed that she could not blame Scott for this, she must blame herself if anything, for marrying such a kind man. He and Meg liked to see the good in people. Not one conversation had happened in the house since Laurent had returned about the young girl he killed.

Laurent had started working for Gabriele Aiton and, as if to prove himself, he set the house of one of the debtors on fire. There was a young girl trapped in one of the upstairs room. As she screamed in the street for help, for mercy, Laurent had turned on his heel and allowed her to burn to death.

Antoinette was disgusted with him but at least he had had the good sense not to return to the Giry home. She had loved her brother, the one link to her past, to everything she did when she was young. She was much older than Laurent but that did not make them any less close. Scott had excepted him like a son and Laurent repaid them in shame.

Murder and shame.

The police gave up their manhunt some years ago for the group that had committed the offence, according to sources no one had seen nor heard a thing. Antoinette knew though, she had seen his flee and, eventually, Laurent wrote to her to tell her what had happened, begging for her silence.

She had been in two minds about handing the information to the police. She wasn't sure what stopped her in the end, but something did. It was the last nice thing she ever wanted to do for Laurent yet her hand had recently been forced.

She glanced up from her seat and her eyes drifted to box five where she saw a familiar sight. The white of his mask caught under the lamps and she felt her heart thud. She had not seen him up there for a long time and seeing him now gave her a shock.

She stared and as she did his head turned and she realised he was looking right at her. He waved his hand and then he disappeared into the darkness.

This encounter was the closest they have come in the years since they had fallen out, the wave was more than she expected. Perhaps it was a sign from him of some description, she knew only too well that he would not be very happy with the introduction of La Carlotta, but surely even he could see that she was popular. Monsieur Lefevre had done very well to convince her to come to the Opera Populair, Ubaldo Piangi went wherever she went... she expected Erik preferred Ubaldo to Carlotta.

The sudden urge to speak to him was not uncommon to her, whenever she felt low she had this wish that they were still friends. No one could understand Erik, she never fully expected to, but she liked to think that she knew him... just a little bit.

'Madame Giry,' She blinked away from box five to face Monsieur Lefevre, who was beaming from ear to ear.

'Hello,' she said, and smiled. She thought he deserved a smile, he had worked very hard these last few weeks.

'How are you?' he asked, taking the seat next to her and casting his eyes over the dancers on stage.

'I'm very well,' she lied. 'Thank you for asking. Now, how are you?'

He grinned, ear to ear. 'I'm fantastic,' he said, unable to control the
excitement in his voice.

'Any particular reason?' she asked, though she suspected that she already
knew.

'I am leaving,' he said. 'Emigrating in fact... Australia,'

'Good news for you,' she said simply.

'Oh no,' he said. 'Don't think I am deserting you... since the sales have been so good for the new opera well... two men have expressed interest in becoming joint managers and two other men are taking over as patrons,'

'Well,' Antoinette said, forcing a smile at him. 'This is all very good news,'

'Isn't it?' he said, beaming.

'When do the men arrive?' she asked.

'Tomorrow,' he said. 'During dress rehearsals,'

'At least they will have the opportunity to see the work that goes into a show of this magnitude,' she said.

'I detect a note of cynicism, Madame,' he said, the smile finally disappearing from his face.

'Just a little disappointed you are leaving before opening night,'

'No time like the present,' he said.

'How could you, Monsieur?' she asked and this obviously took him by surprise. 'This theatre...'

'This theatre has been hell these last few years,' he said simply, looking straight into her eyes. 'Make no mistake... if it were not for the ghost I would not be leaving at all,'

Antoinette was struck by the truth of this statement and also by something it was obvious Lefevre had not thought of.

'What if he does not want you to leave?' she asked.

His eyes widened. 'What possibly reason could he have for wanting me to stay?'

'His money,' she said simply.

'I can assure you,' he said with a sharp laugh. 'After the new managers have known our ghost for a while... he will be getting his money from them,'

She had a retort but what was the point? Nothing would change the situation, he was leaving and the new managers arrived later that evening. When she glanced back up at his face she realised that he was staring at her, his eyes narrowed to almost slits.

'What is it?' she asked, feeling uncomfortable.

'It's just that I've noticed something,' he said. 'I'm not really sure why it never struck me before,'

She frowned. 'What's that?'

'You don't seem frightened,'

'Of what?' she asked, attempting to seem confused but knowing exactly whathe was talking about.

'Of him,' Lefevre said, 'Of the ghost... you... you've never seemed frightened,'

She shrugged. 'Nothing much frightens me,'

His frown deepened. 'This thing has killed people,' he said. 'That does not frighten you,'

She looked at him, searching his eyes, why now, why bring this up tonight? Was it because he was leaving or had he really not spotted it the whole time. She had always been quick enough to warn people about the Phantom of the Opera, she was well aware what he was capable of. In her heart, though she knew he could kill, he was still Erik to her. It was strange how this man, a killer, could bring so much fear around her and yet, not to her.

To Antoinette he was still the man that ignored her comments, let her speak freely, never harmed her...

'I only really fear for Meg's safety, Monsieur,' she said. 'And what has there been to fear lately?'

He blinked.

'You have been paying him,' she continued. 'And he had been fairly quiet... the odd murmur I am sure but he is happy with what has happened recently,'

Lefevre seemed to take this in. 'Well, I'm getting out of here before he decided he isn't happy anymore,'

Antoinette could say nothing, she simply nodded. She did not quite recall the day when Monsieur Lefevre had become a coward but she was sure it was fairly recent.

'I'm going to Australia,' he said. 'You know… a long way... long, long way away from here,'

'I'm sorry to hear that,' she said softly, he was a good man after all. He had tried.

His eyes drifted over her face and then he reached out and took her hands in his, the warmth in him seeping to her. 'Good luck, Madame,' he said, a tear clinging to his eyelashes. 'You have been very good to me,'

She smiled sadly, not really sure what to say.

'Tell your friend...' he smiled. 'Tell him I have no fight left... he has two new managers to butt heads with,'

Antoinette opened her mouth to deny the association but, instead, decided to remain silent. It was obvious that Lefevre knew, and though she would not be lying if she said that the phantom was not her friend, she realised there was little point. Lefevre would tell no one, anywhere anything about this or the ghost. It would be his secret to keep and his burden to bear.

He patted the back of her hand gently and turned away.

'Goodbye,' she said.

He glanced over his shoulder when he reached the door, 'Good bye,'

As the door clunked shut behind him she had a thought about Erik, it washed through her like water, Laurent had never harmed her either.

Louis was tapping his fingers on the table again. It annoyed Gabriele. The sound of the drumming, constant noise, made him want to cover his ears.

'Stop that,' Gabriele said, staring across at Louis.

'What?' Louis asked, glancing up at him.

'Your fingers,' Gabriele glared at them for effect. 'Doing that thing,'

Louis looked down at his hands and lifted them as he shrugged. 'Sorry,'

The funny thing was that Gabriele knew Louis could not help doing this, he had heard somewhere, probably from Erik, that people did things like this without even knowing it. It was called a nervous habit, something to do with a person unconscious mind, whatever that was.

Yes, must have been Erik.

'So,' Gabriele said, causing Louis to look over at him again. 'Where did you go the other night?'

Louis smiled. 'Took a girl out,' he said.

'Are you courting Louis, you old dog?' Gabriele teased.

'No,' he said, with a shrug. 'I took her out for Erik,'

'What on earth for?'

'He paid me to take this girl to the opera for him,'

Gabriele lifted his eyebrows. 'Was she...'

'She was beautiful, Gabriele,' Louis interrupted. 'Just... stunning,'

'Really?' Gabriele laughed, thinking of Erik and this beautiful woman. 'Is she his lover?'

'Apparently not,'

'No?'

Louis shook his head.

'Then what is she to him?'

'I'm really not sure,' Louis said, a frown creasing the skin on his forehead. Gabriele reached across and shoved the other man hard.

'So she's fair... game, then?' Gabriele grinned.

Louis glared at him. 'She isn't like that,'

'You like her?'

'She was nice,'

Gabriele smiled. 'Not at all what I mean and you know it,'

'She was just...' he sighed. 'This is a stupid conversation,'

'Why?'

'I don't know... maybe because we're about to go and beat the daylight out of some gentleman,'

'Not really a gentleman, Louis,' Gabriele replied. 'Lets not get our lines crossed here,'

He shrugged again.

'Tell me about her,' Gabriele said, 'We have time,'

'Why?'

'What?'

'Why are you so interested?' Louis asked, eyes fixed on Gabriele.

'Just asking...'

'Yes, I know that,'

'So tell me,' Gabriele grinned. 'Who stole your little heart,'

'Her names Christine,' he said.

'Pretty name,' Gabriele said.

'She's young,' Louis continued and Gabriele leaned forward. 'Lives at the opera house,'

'How young is young?'

'Maybe twenty,'

'Not too young,' he grinned.

Louis finally broke into a smile.

'Lives at the opera house,' Gabriele frowned. 'Which one?'

'Populair,'

Gabriele nodded, he knew it well.

'When are you going to ask her to accompany you on another outing?'

Louis laughed at this. 'Never,'

'Why not?'

'I think Erik is in love with her,'

'What would give you that impression?'

'He told me not to lay my hands on her or to let anyone else do so,'

'That could mean she's a relative,'

'No,' Louis said firmly. 'It was the way he said it...'

'I see,' Gabriele said, feeling a burn in his stomach. Erik Lambourne loved something... actually felt the emotion. 'Does she have a full name?'

'Christine Daae,'

Gabriele's eyes shot open wide and he stared at the big man. 'Daae?'

He nodded. 'Know her?'

Gabriele grinned. 'Not... exactly,'