Hello, my old friends.

I need to start off by saying how much I have appreciated your support over the last few months (my absence). They have truly been so inspiring and motivational, and are part of the reason I started writing again. Honestly- there wasn't really an absence. I mean I had never given up, things just got in the way. Finding a job that suited me, getting adjusted to constant exhaustion from that work, and honestly, losing motivation for a lot of my hobbies. But this is 2017 and it has started out well- I'm so motivated this year and will really try to update more regularly.

I want you guys to know, though, that I won't ever abandon these stories. I have read too many amazing half stories, myself, and I know the pain of that! I wouldn't do that to you guys! I will always get around to finishing them!

Again, thank you for everything- and keep the reviews and messages coming because they honestly mean so much. They got me out of my slump last year, so clearly they're important!

Without further ado...

The long awaited Chapter 33!

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.

Erik

"As predictable as ever." Raoul smiled. Why should he not smile? This was exactly what he wanted. "I afford you the courtesy of two weeks and instead you go behind my back and attempt to steal her from me!?" He turned to Christine. "And you! I have treated you with nothing but kindness and you abuse my trust."

I looked at Christine who could not speak. She had shrunk away from me, perhaps hoping that it would affect Raoul's reaction. I hated that he could affect us.

The Sûreté looked at him for guidance as to whether they should apprehend me, or wait for his command.

"Christine…" I spoke softly, not meeting her gaze. I couldn't look at her, not entirely. Just the thought of separation was already too painful to bear. As she had backed away, there was now nearly a foot of space between us, and I could feel the distance growing even though she had stopped moving entirely. From the corner of my eye I saw her look up at me. Raoul watched on, almost intrigued by our exchange- perhaps he knew that it would be important.

I produced her father's letter from my pocket and handed it to her.

"What is that?" Raoul enquired.

Ignoring him, she took it from me. Her eyes began to question me but I knew that part of her realised what I was doing.

"What…" She began.

"You will need this." I said, finally meeting her gaze.

"What? Why?! We will both need it…"

I smiled at her. She was so pure. She was fully aware of the situation now, I knew it, and yet she was still hoping that I had something else in mind; that somehow this was just part of a more elaborate plan that would have both of us free to live and to love.

I turned to Raoul.

"This is my decision." I offered stoically, holding my wrists out before me in submission. "I am yours. Now release her."

"ERIK, NO!" Christine cried, immediately throwing herself at me and holding me tightly.

"Christine, please…" God, how I wished to return the embrace.

"Get away from him, Christine!" Raoul finally spoke, signalling to his men who began to approach me. They approached with apprehension and that was warranted, but I was of no threat to them. Not tonight. The thought of returning to a cage filled me with a very real dread, but it was either Christine or myself. One cage or the other. I would not resist. My surrender was a choice.

"Be careful, men." One of the officers said to another. He eyed me. "Don't make this difficult." He warned.

I scoffed, a sarcastic smile playing on the corner of my mouth. I wondered if they would be able to contain me if I chose to make things difficult.

"I had no intention of doing so."

"Hands behind your head!" He yelled, ignoring me.

"Is that necessary?" I asked, throwing a scowl at the man who had spoken. Surely a surrender afforded me some dignity… perhaps not.

In response, the officer signalled to the surrounding men, and Christine was pulled away from me. The force used was not called for. It angered me I started toward her out of impulse.

"Don't you dare…" I began.

Harm her…

I was silenced mid-sentence as the butt of a rifle collided with my face, swiping me across the jaw.

"NO!" Christine cried, attempting to push away from the man detaining her.

I fell to my hands and knees, momentarily dazed by the pain. My mouth filled with blood as I brought my hand to my stomach wound, which was now screaming from the movement.

"This is how you would have her treated!?" I spat at Raoul. Blood spilled down my chin as I spoke. I was approached by two officers and pushed to the concrete of the balcony floor.

"Erik, please! There must be another way!" Christine pleaded.

"There isn't." Raoul replied. "He has finally come to his senses."

"Be quiet Raoul!" She shot. "Erik, this isn't the answer. Why… why would you do this to me!?"

"I am doing this for you." I managed from beneath the man crushing my back with his knee as he handcuffed me.

You have to get to the bottom of this. I would have said, had the man on top of me not been pushing the air out of my lungs with his weight.

Every minute you spend here could be time lost.

I thought I was going to be sick from the pain my stomach wound was causing me. I yelled as the weight on my back shifted. I wish I hadn't. I didn't want to further upset Christine but even I didn't have that much self-restraint.

"Stop!" She cried. "Get off him! He won't give you any trouble! He said he wouldn't!"

Christine was ignored by all except Raoul, who to my surprise, shot her an empathetic look.

Finally, just as I thought I was going to lose consciousness, the manacles were tightened around my wrists and I was pulled up. They were tighter than they needed to be. There was no room to move at all. I knew that I wasn't getting out of these.

"Please, Erik." Christine cried once more. It killed me to see her this way and to know I was the cause, but she needed to get to her father, or at the very least, try. I owed her that much.

The man holding her shook her slightly.

"Keep quiet, Mademoiselle!"

This enraged me. It was enough that the law had me at its disposal, Christine had done no wrong, and these men had no right to speak to her that way or to manhandle her.

"Don't you tell her what…"

I started toward her but was again silenced as the butt of the very same rifle was thrust into my stomach, not intentionally hitting my wound but nonetheless rendering me paralysed.

"ERIK!" Christine's voice pleaded.

A wave of agony rushed through me and I fell to the floor. I longed to hold my wound which I was sure was now bleeding, but my hands were immobile.

To my surprise, Raoul stepped forward and spoke.

"Monsieur!" He shot at the man who had delivered the blow. "I did not instruct…"

Another man cut in… or so I could hear. I was still on the floor trying to come to terms with the pain.

"It is no longer in your hands." He said.

"What? But I…"

"You delivered him to us. Correct. And we are appreciative. But now that he is in custody of the law, he is property of the government until proven innocent."

A few of the men snickered. I knew that I would be getting no such chance at proving my innocence; no such trial. And what if I did? I did commit the murder. Was I innocent? No. I was guilty. I just hoped that they wouldn't draw it out too long, and that Christine could find what she was looking for before anything happened.

The man continued. His words and tone of voice told me that he was in charge. Not only of his men, but of everyone in the room.

"And therefore, the means of containing said property are in the discretion of the law."

Raoul glanced at Christine, who was now weeping helplessly. Too lost even to scold him further for what he had done.

"But surely… surely that was not necessary?"

Why was Raoul protecting me?

"We will deem what is necessary." He said, his tone short.

"The man is injured. Surely it would not do to have him perish before the trial?"

"He shall not perish, Monsieur."

Raoul said nothing in response…

The conversation above me blurred in and out. Once more, I felt as though I was going to be sick, but I knew that I couldn't in front of Christine. What she was witnessing was bad enough.

I looked down and saw red. Quite literally. I was in fact bleeding from my wound again. Troublesome. As my eyes travelled back up to reality, I noticed the jacket I was wearing; the velvet lapels… that this was the very same jacket I had been wearing when I'd first revealed myself to Christine. I found it morbidly fitting that I was wearing it now- possibly the last time I would ever see her.

"Let's go." The same authoritarian voice spoke from above. He must have gestured to his men because momentarily I was pulled up from my place on the floor. I wasn't ready. Not at all. Pain swept through me again, followed by intense nausea. I had a high tolerance for pain, and I had never been physically sick from it, but anything was possible.

I looked at Christine. She met my gaze. Pain tainted her features as much as it tainted mine. Her gaze travelled down to my wound, now bleeding again.

"You… You're bleeding…" She muttered, looking up at me. "He is injured!" She cried. "You must be careful! He- He's badly injured… Oh God…" The last two words left her lips as a whimper, when she realised that what she was saying didn't matter. No one cared whether or not I was injured, they probably preferred it that way; less trouble- easier to manage. They couldn't care less whether I perished before my 'trial'. I daresay they planned to help me along.

"Out of the way, Miss." One of the men spoke gruffly, gesturing to Christine. He pushed me inside; into the bedroom, past several other men who simply stared. Perhaps they'd never seen a man in a mask before; perhaps each of them longed to remove it. I knew that it would only be a matter of time, in fact I was surprised that no one had yet reached for it.

"Erik…" Christine pleaded as I passed her. I glanced up at her, mouthing the words I longed to say.

I love you.

Her face fell, as if those three words that hadn't even been spoken, had shattered her. She began to weep harder.

"Raoul, please! Think about what you are about to do!"

"Christine… you heard them…" He replied softly. "It's not in my control anymore."

"But it's your fault, isn't it!?"

Yes, it was Raoul's doing- but he was not entirely to blame. I was being arrested because I had committed a crime. My first visit to a cage had been out of my hands- but not this. That first visit and the encounters that followed changed me. I vowed that it would never happen again, and every action I took since then has been a preventative measure… or at least that was how I had seen it.

But who had suffered because of that vow?

Me.

I had spent a life in darkness in more than just a physical sense and then Christine had shown me light…

I shot one last glance back at her before I was escorted from the room. It was heartbreaking. There was so much still left to say- so much left to do, to experience with this woman before I could truly say goodbye. I had told her I loved her- I'd had the chance to say that at least but I knew that even those words had hurt her. Either choice I made would have had me hurt Christine, and so I had to choose was right for her.

And this was right.

Her pained eyes met mine once more before she was lost from sight, and the door was shut behind me. I could still hear her despair as I was taken away from her. I was escorted down the dark, carpeted corridor- the firm grip on my upper arm did not loosen as we made our way out into the foyer. I glanced briefly at my surroundings, noting dismally that the grain of the marble of Raoul's staircase was not unlike the marble of the Garnier's. Of course, I had chosen a classy white marble- not really comparable to the dated cool grey of the de Chagny staircase…

As we made our way outside and the cool wind met us, habit forced me to take in my surroundings and instinct told me to assess them, and to run. Though, that would get me nowhere. I knew that. The manacles that now bound my wrists were requested. I had undertaken this willingly and I had done it for a noble purpose. The noblest purpose there is; for love. If nothing else in my life, I had committed one, final, selfless act and I was not about to redact it if it could hinder Christine.

Possibly sensing that part of me was itching to follow my natural instinct, the man holding me tightened his grip as he shoved me down the stairs and into the carriage waiting at the bottom.

"Get in…" He grumbled. A few of the officers crowded around me lest I decide that this was not such a grand idea, after all.

Yes, I knew that once inside the carriage, my escape options would be further limited if not eliminated entirely- and yet I did not fight. I stepped inside as any normal man would enter his carriage… if he were handcuffed and en route to prison…

Entering was of course difficult with a stomach wound and without the use of my hands to take the weight, but with a helpful shove from one of the gracious men behind me, I was inside. The door was immediately slammed shut behind me, followed by the dull clanging of keys and what sounded like the door being locked- then double checked. With a grimace, I sat up. My wound was aching, and so was my chest… the dread began to creep in.

Without Christine and caged once more. I leant to one side of the carriage in an attempt to peer out the window and up to Christine's balcony, but I saw nothing. Pressing my mask to the (cold) iron bars of the carriage window did not help. There was nothing, no one there. The drapes, ravished by the wind, danced about the open doors of the balcony; a balcony that now looked so empty. I wondered what was now transpiring in that room above me. Was Raoul comforting her? Consoling her? Was she accepting that? Inviting it?

Perhaps I did not wish to know.

I looked away, positioning myself in the middle of carriage seat once more, knowing that if I continued, a familiar voice would creep into my thoughts; self-doubt.

It was all for him.

This was a plan to remove you from the picture and it worked.

Christine and Raoul.

Madame de Changy after all.

I knew that that voice would never truly be silenced, and that it would forever hurt Christine to know that I did not truly trust her judgement, nor her words. That I cannot. She claims to understand but after a while she would grow tired of convincing me and she would grow tired of my jealousy and insecurity, and possessive nature and she would leave. She would go running to le Vicomte's open arms after all. Perhaps it was better that she just stayed with Raoul. With that boy.

I could hear him; hear his pathetic mewling voice calling Christine's name. Perhaps I always would.

"Christine!" It called.

"Christine wait !"

It almost sounded real.

"Christine!"

"No, Raoul! Let me go!"

Christine?!

I looked up, leaning toward the window once more and peering out to see her bursting through the doors of Raoul's home and rushing down the stone steps toward me.

She was crying.

Raoul was in tow.

"Christine!" I exclaimed. My chest ached at the sight of her.

"Erik! Erik, please!"

It broke my heart to see her pleading, knowing that I had no power in what was happening, and yet pleading all the same.

"Christine…" I repeated, moving closer to the window. I longed to touch her, but my hands were behind my back and as soon as she approached the carriage she was caught by an officer, who gently held her at bay.

"Christine, stop!" Raoul yelled from further away. "You mustn't!"

"It is alright, Monsieur." The officer who was holding her began. "Just hold her until we depart."

I resented the way he spoke about her, as if she were an item of baggage. But I could not do a thing.

Raoul approached and took Christine, holding her close.

"Christine, it is alright." I said. "I will be alright. Find your father!"

The remaining officers sat atop the carriage. I heard the reins crack, and then we were moving.

"Erik, please…" Christine continued. I could see that the hopelessness of the situation had now set in for her, and it was painful to watch.

"Find your father!" I yelled as the distance between us grew further. Then, I turned away, facing the inside wall of the moving carriage once more. I didn't know when I would see Christine again, but she was on another journey now- an important one. I would yearn for her. I would worry for her. I would think on her every waking minute, and dream of her too, but staring, wishing, weeping… those would not help anyone- and they would only weaken me.

I took a deep breath and steeled myself.

I needed to be strong for whatever came next…

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