Erik's POV

Later that day, I was sitting there at my desk working, when I heard my angel call for me.

"Erik?"

"Yes?" I placed my pen down and turned to face her. Perhaps our argument would finally end.

"I was thinking we could perhaps go out? I need to purchase some milk and eggs."

"Does this mean our argument is over?" I questioned. "Because I do believe that my head is still killing me from the apparent head injury."

"Erik, they were oven mitts." She argued. "I'm not stupid enough to throw anything hard against your head. I know what damage something like that could do. I was mad, Erik, mad."

"And does that give you an excuse to throw something at my head? I've never once done such a thing to you, Christine."

"Erik, I thought I would ask you out in order to end this argument. You're just continuing it."

"And what would you have me do, Christine?" I growled. "End it? Without explanation?"

"And what would you have me explain?" she questioned. "You're the one who acted out on me."

"And I said I was sorry, Christine." I stood from my seat and donned my coat. "So, are we going to go out now?"

"Angel, I just want everything to be back to normal again."

"And it will be if you apologize for throwing that mitt against my head."

"I'm sorry, Erik."

"That doesn't sound sincere enough."

With that, I headed towards the kitchen of our hotel room to get a drink. I had been angry before, but now, I was enraged. How dare she come to me and try to fake an apology. It was as if she didn't even mean it.

"Erik, I really am sorry."

"No, ange…" I argued. "You're not sorry. You're trying to act like you are."

I picked up the mitt that was sitting on the counter and threw it against her head. She gasped and looked down on the floor at the garment that was now sitting at her feet.

"Tell me how sorry you now? Tell me how good it feels to have it thrown at your head. Yes, you may think it to be soft, but when thrown at a high speed, it doesn't tickle."

"Erik," My angel rubbed the spot on her head where the mitt landed. "I'm so sorry. Really, angel…It does hurt."

"It doesn't hurt, nor does it tickle. I'm sorry."

And yet, I still couldn't forgive my angel. Instead, I found myself hurrying out the door.

"Erik, stop…" my angel begged. "Just stop."

She even grabbed my arm as I was leaving, but still I didn't listen to her.

"No, Christine, now let me go!"

I managed to get away from her grasp and hurried towards the streets. It was still a few hours before I had to meet Raoul at the bar, giving me just enough time to work in my warehouse. I was angry enough without having to see the men who had harmed my angel. What surprised me more, was when I entered and found Gustave sitting at my piano. At first, I ignored him and sat my keys down on my nearby desk. I wasn't in the mood for visitors, making Gustave's presence more of an inconvenience than it was truly worth. He was sitting there, pounding out some random notes on my instrument. Oh, I was in no mood for music!

"And just how did you get in here?" I growled, taking a seat at my desk.

There was a long pause of silence, and then, my child's voice.

"I picked the lock. I couldn't stand to be in that hotel room any longer. I saw what mother did to you this morning."

"So you did." I replied, picking up my pen to fill out paperwork. "She's tossing things at me now."

"It wasn't right, Mister Y," Gustave assured. "Even though it was only an oven mitt. Raoul used to toss things at her all the time. I believe mother feels not only horrible about her appearance, but also frightened at the same time."

"It would seem that way, wouldn't it?"

"Do you still love, mother?" my son turned from his seat at the piano, waiting for my response. "Do you still love her, Mister Y?"

"Always." I said. "Your mother means more to me than anything in the world. She possess anger just like I do."

"Mister Y, could we walk home together later?"

"Afraid not." I said. "I have some business to take care of."

"What sort of business?" he curiously asked.

"None of your business. Now skedaddle on home to your mother."

I stood from where I was sitting, and lifted Gustave away from the piano.

"Tell your mother that I shall be home late and is not to wait up for me. All right?"

My son nodded. "All right, papa."

When my child was gone, I waited a few moments before emerging from my warehouse. The Phantom was already running ramped through my veins as I approached my bar and entered. So far, the only one there was Raoul. Not that anyone else would wind up coming…Usually, my bar only thrived in the summer, with the exceptional drunk wallowing in during the winter.

"Monsieur," I greeted, as I took a seat at the same table Raoul was seated at. Surprisingly, he wasn't even drinking tonight. Instead, he was sitting there staring at his pocket watch.

"So, you did show after all."

"And did you think I wasn't going to show?" I questioned, raising a brow. "These bastards harmed Christine. You know how dear she is to my heart. If anything, I should be wringing your neck for hiring them."

"And why haven't you?"

"Because, for some strange reason, Christine has a soft spot for fops."

Raoul rolled his eyes. "You have jokes, monsieur Phantom."

"Indeed."

"How is my Christine?"

"Your Christine?" I growled. "I don't believe that she is yours any longer. As far as I'm concerned, you can wallow on back to Paris after tonight. You did, after all, give her to me."

"That I did. Even if I wished for her to come back to Paris, I know she wouldn't. But, be as it may, how has she been doing?"

"She's alive." I began. "That's about all she is. As far as trying to make her happy and smile, that's a task all its own."

"I'm sure she will smile again, soon, monsieur. And after tonight, everything will be back to normal."

"When are these men supposed to be showing up?" I questioned.

"Soon enough." Raoul stated. "I told them to be here by eight."

I sat there looking down at my pocket watch for the longest time, awaiting the moment when I would be able to get revenge for my Christine. At five minutes before eight, I saw Raoul look up and then, back down at me.

"They're outside." He began. "Let's go meet them."

"I thought we were supposed to meet in here?" I questioned. "Isn't that what you told me?"

"Indeed, but they were skeptical about meeting in here since the bar tender is one of your dear employees. After making a mistake once by burning Christine, they know the news is out. Just let me go first."

I stood, following Raoul to the door.

"I'll make it seem as though I forgot their money. When I come back inside, you can follow me out to confront them."

I nodded, and waited at the door while Raoul went outside. Oh, how my palms were sweating as I stood there waiting. I would strangle them all! And then, after they are crying like babies, only then would I give them mercy by handing them over to the authorities. My heart raced inside my chest, pounding against my ears as I awaited Raoul's signal.

"All right, they're waiting." The door opened, and Raoul was motioning me to come outside. Only when I did, there was no one there.

"Where are they?"

"In the alley behind the bar."

I cautiously approached the alley with Raoul following behind me. They were standing there! All three of them! They were waiting, expecting Raoul to pay them, and instead, they would be feeling my wrath!

"How dare y…" I opened my mouth, ready to clobber them all, but before I could even finish my speech, I felt something hard and sharp shatter on top of my head. I fell to my knees, pressing my eyes closed and feeling the top of my head to notice that I was bleeding profusely from my exposed skull that was beneath my wig. I fell to my side like an injured animal, looking up at my attacker to see Raoul standing over me with a broken bottle in his hand.

"What are you doing?" I growled.

"Taking my revenge."

My heart stopped within my chest. Revenge? He had been the one to come to me with sympathy, sympathy for harming Christine. And oh, what a fool I was to ever believe that a man like him could change. What was I thinking when I believed that he would give me Christine, that he would leave Coney Island? Oh, I had grown soft!

"What a fool you were Phantom!" he laughed. "To believe that I would simply let this go."

"But…but you were crying at Christine's bedside."

"Indeed. Those were real tears, monsieur. Yes, I feel terrible for allowing my Christine to get harmed, but if it meant your death, then so be it."

Raoul leaned down to my level and pulled me by my shirt so that I was close to his face. The bastard even pulled my mask and wig away, exposing me before the three men who were standing behind me.

"You've grown soft, Phantom. And now, you can die like the monster you are." He looked up at his men. "Don't go easy on him."

I struggled against Raoul as he tore my metal leg from my thigh and threw it farther into the alley.

"Oh, and just in case you were wondering, it was me, who took the breaks from your coaster car. But tell me though, how much did it hurt to lose your leg, monsieur? A lot? I would think so… But, I can promise you that these men will take every limb on your body and sever it from each joint."

When Raoul placed me down, I laid there with my hand pressing against my gushing wound.

"I like this," Raoul said, examining my mask. "I believe I shall take it back to Paris with me as a souvenir."

"What about Christine?" I cringed. "What about her face? And the treatment she'll need…The treatment only I can give her."

"Nonsense, monsieur. In Paris, she will get all the medical treatment she could ever ask for. Your music may speak to her, but her heart will always belong to me."

I began to crawl across the ground with one hand, while my other continued pressing against my wound. If I could grab hold of something, perhaps I could hoist myself up. Oh, how could I have been so naïve, so stupid and naïve? Raoul had been the cause of my decapitated leg; Raoul had been the cause of Christine's hideousness… Why? Why did I ever believe that I could trust him?

"Well, get to it then." I heard Raoul command. "I'm not paying you to stand around. I paid you to get rid of Mister Y! Make it worth my while."

Gustave's POV

The truth had been that I had not gone home like I was supposed to do. Instead, I had followed Mister Y… I wasn't sure why he was going to the bar, but when I saw him and Raoul speaking to one another, I became curious. Yes, I should have gone home, but I couldn't… Instead, I hid, hid until I found out what was going on. A few moments later, I saw Raoul luring my papa into a dark alley where three men were waiting. And what happened next frightened me more than anything I had ever witnessed. Raoul bashed my papa over the head with a glass bottle…I heard everything! I heard him confess that he had been the one to hurt Mister Y, had been the cause of his severed leg, had been the one to hire the men who hurt my mama…And now, he was going to have the same three men kill papa… No, I couldn't let this happen. I covered my ears the moment they began to hurt Mister Y. I couldn't stand to listen to it, but I couldn't stand here and let it continue either. If I went and ran for my mother, it could be too late by the time I returned. No, I was going to have to do something myself.

From where I was hiding, there were a few empty bottles lying about. Without a second though, I grabbed one and came out running towards Raoul, smashing it over his back. This didn't seem to harm him, for he spun around and grabbed me by the shirt.

"Ah, a rat in hiding."

My papa seen me in Raoul's grasp, for he gasped and pleaded for Raoul not to harm him. Everything came to a standstill, for the men stopped beating on my papa and looked towards me.

"No, please," my papa pleaded. "Don't harm the boy."

"Harm him?" Raoul laughed. "Why would I harm the little bastard? I raised him as my own for the past ten years, didn't I? The product of one night of betrayal by my supposed loving wife!"

I tried to struggle out of his grasp, but Raoul was too strong for me. My papa crawled over to where we were and used a nearby wall for support. His face was bruised and his head was gushing blood, but that didn't stop him from attempting to save me. I knew I should have just ran for help, but I was worried about him.

"Look at you," Raoul scoffed. "You're a freak, and always will be. No woman would ever want to be with you."

"Let the boy go," he growled. "Let him go, now!"

I shuttered when Raoul produced a large knife and held it against my neck. I could feel the sharpness of the blade against my flesh. One more move and I would surely be cut.

"No!" my papa cried. "Don't do this to him."

"And what are you going to do about it, Phantom!"

"Erik!" I heard my mother's voice, only to turn and see her running towards the alley. She must have come out searching for the both of us.

"Grab her!" Raoul demanded to one of his men. My mother screamed as she was held tightly in someone's grasp, looking at my papa, who was badly hurt, and me, who was about to be.

"Raoul, what have you done!" she cried. "What are you doing?"

"And so, we have a guest." He snarled. "And now, Christine, it's time to make a choice. Who do you want to live? Your loving little bastard boy? Or your monster? But chose wisely, Lotte, for only one shall live."

"Christine, don't answer him." My papa demanded, as he leaned against the wall.

"Erik," my mother had tears running down her cheeks. "Do something."

"And yet, he cannot, Christine. It's time that you and I return to Paris, love. Soon, everything shall be over, and then, life can go on."

"No, it can't, Raoul. Our life is over…I love Erik. You know this."

This angered Raoul, for he dropped me and approached my papa, who stood weakened against a nearby wall. I ran to my mother and buried my face into her skirts.

Christine's POV

"Oh, really, Christine?"

Raoul approached my angel with his knife, my angel weakly grabbing his hand to stop him. But it wasn't enough, for Raoul jabbed his knife into Erik's chest, pressing down firmly on the handle. My angel's eyes went wide, his own hand clasping around the handle in an attempt to pull it away.

"Tell him that you love him, Christine!" Raoul growled. "Tell your demon that you love him while he's dying."

"Papa!" my son was sobbing now, sobbing as Erik's body slid down the wall, Raoul never letting up for a single moment. When I didn't say a word, he removed the knife from Erik's body and held him up again, only to stab him a second time. This time, however, my angel caught the blade between his hands to stop it before it could enter his torso. There was so much blood, so much, that all I could see was red.

"M…Monsieur…" Erik looked up into Raoul's eyes, pleading with him to stop.

"Angel!"I screamed his name, pleading with my Erik to stay strong.

Raoul was about to stab my angel again, when I kicked the man behind me and broke free, rushing to my Erik's body to shield him from the next stabbing. I expected to feel the agony of Raoul's blade, but instead, I looked up to see him standing completely still, with the blade raised against his head.

"You would die for this beast, Christine?"

"I…I love him."

"And yet, you would die for him?"

"You'll have to kill me first, Raoul." I cried. "I love Erik more than anything in the world."

I wasn't sure what was going to happen next, but before I could say another word, there were shouts from the beginning of the alley, and then, the forms of policemen surrounding it.

"Move aside, Christine." Raoul demanded. "Let me finish this."

"No," I cried, wrapping my arms around Erik's lifeless form. "I refuse."

"Do it!"

"I won't move."

"Have it your way then, Christine!" Raoul shouted. "Burn in hell with your hideous demon."

I closed my eyes, awaiting the horrible pain from Raoul's knife, but at the same time, I heard the sound of gunshots ring out, and then, nothing at all…

DUN DUN DUN! Well, only one more chapter left. Please review everyone! And after this, if you're still looking for something of mine to read, switch over to "Help Me Through This Sadness," Which is a story about Erik raising Gustave alone. Or, switch to "Track Down This Murderer" Which is a story about Christine and Erik on the run to freedom after the night of Don Juan Triumphant. Thanks!