A/N: Thank you Mel2121 and Azhi D for following this story! I am ever amazed and grateful to the kindness of all of you readers. Feel free to leave a review for me!
Erik and Christine ran about the Palais Garnier, soaking in all of the wonderful sights, sounds, and smells of the long-time home of the Opera Populaire. Erik happily recounted little adventures in building certain aspects of the theatre, setbacks, struggles, and unexpected successes throughout the magnificent structure. Christine knew every story, but hearing it through Erik once more made it somehow better. Everything was better with the rosy tint of memory, but with the soft gossamer blanket of Erik's tones sweeping through the air it created in her the desire to live it all over again. She had endured the worst of his tantrums, the harshest words he could pull from his broad vocabulary, and the blistering agonies of lonely defeat with him and yet it all washed away as he too began to see the Opera as she did.
It had not truly been her goal, but she could see the spark of inspiration and excitement brewing in the back of his amber eyes. He was starting to truly see the world again, not just live in it. He saw all of the splendour of his home and admire all of the work he and countless others had put into the stone and steal structure to make it appear unlike any other building in the world. Indeed, his Opera stood out among the wonders of the city, country, and planet. Nothing could compare to the graceful gilt angels that sprawled suggestively about the upper ring of the auditorium below the glittering chandelier, the majesty of the Grand Escalier that stretched its smooth marble steps in a great sweep to the floor, or the illustrious Grand Foyer. All of it seemed to come back to that old grandeur for him the more he showed it to her.
Finally coming to the auditorium once more, Erik noted the emptiness of the building. They had been wandering about for most of the day. Checking his pocket watch revealed it to be approaching sunset.
'My dear, I fear I have filled our entire day with my incessant ramblings.' He turned to her apologetically.
'Well I, for one, adored your ramblings.' She said, still holding his arm. He had noted that throughout their time together, she had drawn closer and closer to him until now their shoulders nearly brushed and her head, when leaned to look up, almost rested upon him. Each time this contact would threaten, he would smile, holding his breath in hopes that it would come true. It never did, however, but he was still too elated to have gotten the chance to show her all of what he had created. Through her, he again saw its beauty.
'Christine,' he said almost in a whisper. 'Would you care to accompany me to one more spot before we return to my home?'
She smiled as cheerily as ever before noticing the deep emotion in his eyes. 'Of course.' She answered, feeling a tightness take her chest.
Bringing her by the arm and sometimes hand given the narrow nature of some of his passageways, he lead her up and up and up until she wondered if they had finally reach the sky itself. Opening a door, Erik, ever the gentleman, assisted her up to stand beside him. She was concerned at first when her feet touched the ground and his arm snaked possessively about her waist until she realised where she was.
Directly before them was the great statue of Apollo, raising his golden lyre up to the Heavens. Christine gasped at the sheer size of the figure and also where she knew she was standing. Having been on the lower part of the roof before, her head swam to know she was higher up and behind the great greened dome.
Erik looked down at the prize he held against him. He knew she could not be injured as he could, but worry for her safety still encouraged his timid arms into motion, wrapping round her small form protectively. To his utter amazement, she partially returned the gesture, allowing her hands to come up to rest upon his arms but not to push them away. He felt his heartrate quicken at this, not having expected her to welcome his sudden and unannounced contact.
He watched her as her eyes caught something of the reason for his dragging her up here. She gasped audibly as she beheld the sunset to their right. The great fiery light spread across the canvas of the sky with bold streaks of red, orange, yellow, and purpling rose while the sun burned a golden amber. Christine now broke free as if in a trance from his surprisingly unresisting arms. She took only a single step forward, letting a few whispered words catch on the wind to drift past his ears.
'Oh, Erik, it's beautiful.' She muttered ever so softly.
He came up beside her, tearing his eyes away from the stunning atmospheric display to bask instead in her lovely form. The sunlight contrasted so perfectly with her deep blue eyes he thought himself dreaming. Her skin, once white as porcelain, now glowed more rosy golden in the setting sun. Her hair, blowing and dancing with the wind, wound its rich curls in the most delicious brown imaginable.
His hands yearned to touch her, to feel the smoothness of her skin, but he feared tainting her loveliness with his touch. Certainly a beauty such as this would instantly be ruined if touched by a monster such as himself. Her perfect face, her delicate hands, her slender form. No, she would be destroyed by him, for one touch would never be enough to satisfy.
'Christine,' he whispered into the wind, not expecting her to hear. He was taken aback further by her exquisiteness as she turned her eyes to him. He felt himself choke on any words that may have come as she turned away from the beauty of the sunset to look upon him instead. He felt tears run down his cheeks beneath his mask as she cocked her head questioningly at him. He held out his hand to her, relishing the feeling of her hand within his as he guided her over to Apollo. Placing his foot in just the right spot, he climbed up until he was able to look out almost through the lyre itself. Turning to look down, he waved Christine to follow. She did her best, copying his movements, but he eventually settled to return his helping hand to her. She took it and allowed him to assist her the rest of the way until she was standing beside him. He grabbed a hold beside her, letting his arm stretch behind her back like a safety rope.
She noticed his protective measure and smiled. Gently taking one hand, she reached down to place it upon his. She felt a tremor wrack through his arm before it finally relaxed. She turned her gaze to further watch the deepening colours of the sunset as it shone its last dying light across the silhouetted form of Paris. As the soft blues of night started to also deepen, stretching its blanket of rich darkness across the sky, they descended the statue. Upon landing back on the roof, she felt his golden gaze upon her. Turning, she surprised him in meeting it.
'Thank you for today, Erik. I truly enjoyed seeing the Opera like that again.'
'Christine, you make it all more wonderful with your presence.' He told her, continuing his deep gaze into her eyes.
She looked down at this.
'What is wrong?' He asked, instantly becoming concerned.
'I have to make us argue again.' She told him.
'What? Why?'
'Because I promised today, and now the day is done. I am sorry.' She continued her downward stare, not wanting to meet his eyes.
'Do not be sorry,' he told her, cupping her jaw in his hands whilst bending down to be at her eye level. 'Do not ever be sorry, Christine.' He told her. The longer he stared into her eyes, the more he realised how he was touching her and just how much he wanted to hold her to him and never let go. He questioned these feelings.
When did I start thinking of her as beautiful? When did I want to embrace her and make her happy? When did her tears become more than just a nuisance I did not know how to stop? When did she start to mean so much to me?
These thoughts battled for supremacy in his mind as he stood before her. It was in this swirling mess of contemplations that he missed her hands coming up to meet his. He jumped back to reality as she removed his hands from her and pushed them back to hang heavily at his sides. She closed her eyes as she looked down.
'Nothing has changed, Erik.' She told him resignedly.
'I never expected it to.' He replied, noting her surprise. 'You have picked up a thing or two about stubbornness from being around me so much, I am afraid.' He tried on a grin, but it faded to softness quickly.
'Who's to say I was not always so?' She asked, failing just as quickly at her slyness.
'Christine, I cannot live without you.' He told her with sad resolve.
'You can't know that. I have been with you like this for such a short time.' She tried vainly to convince him, but he only shook his head.
'And in that time I have only come to realise I cannot imagine my life going forward without you there. You can captured me, Christine, and I do not wish for you to let go.'
She let a silence hang itself over their conversation. She ignored his pleading eyes and the tears which threatened to fall from her own. She knew he had given up when he had first seen her, but now he was resolutely deeming life unliveable unless she was assuredly and visibly by his side. She sent up a silent prayer in apology for failing to give him hope properly. Instead, he had become dependent upon her.
'We…should go inside.' She told him, heading towards the door back into the relative warmth and safety of the Opera below. She knew his shoulders fell along with his hopes as she turned away from him and his plea.
Slowly and silently they made their way back down into the Opera, deciding to go through the Box 5 exit. Erik felt his feet grow heavy as he watched his angel before him, afraid that if he took his eyes off her for even a second, she would find a way to vanish. He knew it rested upon him to do this, but there was always the fear that she had neglected to tell him some way for her to disappear.
They made their way farther and farther down until they stopped just on one of the catwalks above the stage. They heard a vague mumbling from the backstage area, only to see Buquet ranting and raving in hushed tones seemingly to himself. Christine instinctively joined Erik in the shadows when the man came fully into view.
'I'm telling you, it's unnatural!' Buquet said a bit too loudly to whomever he was talking to.
'Regardless of how natural it was, I suggest you keep your mouth shut.' Came the stern reply of Madame Giry. She stood firmly in the middle of the stage, most likely ensuring the drunken stage hand steered clear of her dancers.
'I shoved that knife right at him and nothing happened.' Buquet insisted. 'I'd thought he was just a silly myth until I saw him messing around by one of the dressing rooms. I jumped him, but I couldn't do any damage. Then I was thrown back like someone had pushed me, but I swear he didn't move.'
'That may be, and perhaps there truly is a ghost haunting the theatre, but do you not think that it was time you let it be? Searching him out will only bring tragedy.' Madame Giry insisted.
Buquet made some dismissive grunt before trudging up the stairs to the catwalk Erik and Christine hid upon. Below, Madame Giry called some other warning, but Buquet did not seem to be listening. He continued to grow closer and closer to Erik, making Christine whisper a suggestion for moving, but the Opera Ghost was not listening. He had prey to catch.
Buquet made it two more steps before he found his pathway blocked by the impressive form of the dreaded Phantom.
'You should heed her words, Buquet. I do not take kindly to those who do not know how to hold their tongue.' Erik spat in his venomous tone. Buquet stumbled back a step as Erik continued to advance, seeming to grow in height with every step. Erik felt fury begin to boil in his chest, rising up to his throat as he remembered the harm that had befallen his dear Christine the last time they had the misfortune of encountering this vile creature before him. He remembered her limp form, her pain, her selfless act to save him. All of it swirled and turned red in his mind as his eyes grew fierier by the instant.
'I knew you were real,' Buquet gasped, falling backwards and scooting a bit to gain some form of distance between himself and the shadowy figure before him.
'Yes, I am very real, and I shall bring about a very real end for you, Buquet, if you do not cease your senseless babbling.' Erik seethed, his hands finding themselves ready to lash out his Punjab Lasso at any moment. It would do him good to see the man swinging from above the stage for what he had done to his Christine. Yes, he would do it for her.
'Erik stop!' He ceased his motions when he suddenly heard her voice behind him. He had not realised it, but he had not noticed her being there since Buquet's arrival. He had forgotten about her. He gave one last bit of fire in his eyes toward the repulsive excuse of a man before receding to join his Christine.
No sooner had he turned his back, than he heard her once more call his name, this time not to get his attention, but in warning. He looked back just in time to see Buquet lunging at him with the same knife as he had used before in his hand. Being quick on his feet, Erik dodged the blow and following swiping strikes. He eyed his opponent, Lasso decidedly in his hands.
Erik released a dark laugh as the chief of the flies made a few more passes at him only to come stumbling out like a bull being taunted by a matador. Erik overplayed his hand, however, allowing for too little distance between himself and his prey, causing him to be knocked to the ground while Buquet stood over him. Erik was about to fight back when Christine hurried forward, standing between them and taking the hit that was meant to dig into his chest and stomach.
A cry of anguished rage erupted from his throat as he swept effortlessly round Buquet, securing the rope about the man's neck and tying one end off in the rigging for the scenery before kicking the struggling man over the rail to hear the resounding snap echo through the theatre.
Huffing at the adrenalin still coursing through him, he turned to see his Christine bleeding terribly on the catwalk. Fearfully hurrying to her side, he knelt behind her, resting her back on his legs. He felt tears pick his eyes as he looked at the horrid gash slicing down from her shoulder across to her right side. He hovered his hands over her uselessly as his breathing came in desperate rasping gasps.
'Christine! I'm sorry! I am so, so sorry! I should have been faster. Please forgive me!' He begged.
'E-rik,' she sputtered up at him. 'I'll –be- fi-ne.' She assured him with a weak smile. He shook his head as she continued to convulse in gasping pain. 'See,' she brought his hand over to her shoulder. 'I'm already healing.' She smiled at him as one of his tears fell onto her cheek. She reached up with a now blood stained hand to his own cheek, rubbing the smooth porcelain mask soothingly. 'So sweet.' She muttered with eyes that were quickly growing heavy.
'No, no! Christine!' He called gently shaking her and urging her to stay awake. She did at his insistence, smiling tiredly up at him as he continued to weep.
After a bit more of this, she managed to lift her head up slightly to observe her injury. She hummed thoughtfully as she surveyed the damage. 'I think this may take a while.' She observed as the cut was only just healing at her collarbone. 'If you wish to go home, I am afraid you shall have to-'
She never finished her thought as Erik instantly lifted her into his arms and began carrying her to Box 5. He held her gently so as not to hurt her, but firmly in warning to any foolish enough to consider parting her from him.
They said not a word as they made their way through the tunnels. Setting her down as gently as he could in the boat, he grabbed the stick and began shoving them through the water. He kept his stance resolute, but his eyes held every ounce of worry he possessed. Landing at the edge of the rocky shore the house was set upon, Erik did not hardly bother to tie off the boat, instead hurrying to bring Christine into the house. He kept getting flashes of the last time something like this had happened and prayed that not every instance where she felt he would be put in harm's way would end up like this. He felt a pit form in his stomach as he wondered what else she had saved him from all of the years before he had been able to see her.
'Erik, I-' She coughed a bit in his arms only to have him gently hush her. He carried her over to the sofa before sitting her down upon it. He took his place on the floor, kneeling to hold her hand, resting his forehead against it as he continued to cry, fighting back the tears as they unwantedly came.
'Christine, I am so sorry.' He wept into her fingers. 'I swear I will never allow you to come into harm again, I-I am just so sorry. I should have been faster, but I let my guard down. You see what you do to me? You make me feel safe, so I let down my defences, but it will be all right now. No one is ever going to hurt you again I swear it.' He looked into her watery and terrified eyes.
'Erik, I need to know,' she interjected before he could start again. 'Did you kill him? Did you kill Buquet?' She asked, trying vainly to keep a steadiness to her voice that distinctly did not wish to come.
'Hush, my dear, you need never worry about him again.' He assured, his eyes shining with desperate calm.
'Erik, please,' she gripped his hand back, leaning forward in hopes of making him see a bit of sense. 'Just tell me, is Buquet still alive?'
'That vermin got what he deserved.' He answered darkly, a glint coming to his normally bright orbs of amber that made a chill run up Christine's spine. 'They shall find him come morning and all shall know not to meddle in the affairs of the Phantom and his angel.' His dark persona quickly took root as his whole form seemed to become shadowy. One anguished cry from Christine, however, sent all of the gloom away and replaced it with fearful concern.
'No!' She wept, rolling over to face the back of the sofa. 'No, this is not what I wanted for you! This is never what I wanted for you.' She wept as Erik's panicked eyes frantically searched her for a physical cause of her obvious torment.
'Christine, please, please my angel.' He begged. 'Please do not cry. You need never cry, for I shall protect you. Christine, I will do anything and everything you ask of me. I will give you all that I am, if you only stop crying. Please.' He pulled lightly at her shoulder to try to get her to roll over to face him again, but she merely cringed from his touch.
'I did not want this for you.' She repeated more quietly. 'Never. I only ever wanted you to be happy, to know love, and to live. Just that, and yet I must now face you murdering. Tell me why you killed him.'
'For you, my darling angel. I did it to save you and keep you from coming to any more harm.' He told her, not understanding her distress.
She released another cry of torture, only this time rising from the sofa. He followed her, but she waved him back. 'Do not touch me!' She yelled at him, making him instantly shrink back. 'Do not ever do anything for me again! Do you understand? I want nothing from you. Nothing! This was not meant to happen; not ever and certainly not now! I do not want your care or your kindness! I do not want anything from you.' She shouted at him before turning her back.
'But Christine-'
'No! I do not want it because you were never supposed to need me this much. I have failed you, Erik! Do you not see that? I have failed and now you have killed and broken your promise to Nadir.'
Erik stopped at this. 'How do you know of that?' He asked. Fear and anger, that double headed snake that spits venom even the most forgiving hearts cannot survive, started to hiss its fangs at her from his mind. It started to consume his vision, making his limbs itch for things he did not want, but once the poison seeps in, it is hard to stop.
'Nadir mentioned it one evening many years ago. You promised him you would not kill anymore. No more senseless killing. No more murders!' She yelled the last.
'You know nothing of that promise! Do not pretend to know promises you were never privy to! He left me the exception of self-defence, and my reason for tonight's actions were one better than that. I killed Buquet to save you, to save us both! Do you not see that I do this for you? Do you not see how far I would go to keep you by my side? Christine, I-'
He stopped when she wobbled hard, almost falling to the floor. He rushed forward, catching her in his arms as she nearly fainted dead away.
'No, no,' she protested.
'Hush, Christine, hush. You are very weak, you need to rest.' He soothed, lifting her up and making his way to the Louis-Phillippe room.
'No, Erik. This is wrong. Your attachment to me is wrong.' She insisted somewhat blearily.
'Oh, Christine, my whole life has been spent doing the wrong things. I find it a little late for you to wish for me something right.' He told her, setting her softly down on the bed.
'I have failed you. I have failed. I have failed,' she repeated over and over again, tossing her head back and forth, tears streaming down into her long curls that splayed out across the pillow.
'Shhh, Christine, no, no my dear. You have not failed anyone. You were never meant to succeed. You never could have. I am not a soul that can be saved, but I can be helped. Please, let me show you all that I would do for you, all that I can achieve with you here with me. Please,' he begged of her, catching her cheek in his palm as she turned her head. He gasped when she pressed her skin harder into his than he had expected. His thumb slowly traced over her cheek, brushing away a tear with his feather light touch.
Christine looked into his earnestly meaningful eyes. He had intended every word he said, and he was not about to stop simply because of her somewhat loose reasoning. She admitted that it would be hard for him to comprehend how much this meant to her as he had little in the way of respect for duties and honour bound beliefs, but she simply had to get through to him that this was not how it was supposed to be. Her purpose was not to stay there to play the part of a human because that was all she could ever do; pretend.
Sitting up, she reached out to him and tentatively put her hands on his masked cheeks, cupping his jaw, and pulling his head to hers. While still amazed that he allowed her to do any of this, she placed her forehead against his and continued her stare into his now uncertain eyes.
'Erik,' she said slowly. 'I need you to let me go. No,' she started firmly as he opened his mouth to protest, trying to pull away from her. She stopped him and kept him where he was. 'You know I will still be here. I will never truly leave you, Erik. So please, just…let go.' He started to shake his head, closing his eyes, but she reached back to hold his head, smoothing his hair soothingly as she gently shushed him. 'Shhh, Erik, I know you are afraid to be alone, but I am telling you that you will never be alone. I am always here with you, even when you cannot see me. You have to have faith in me, Erik, please. Have a little faith and let go.' She told him in a calm yet earnest voice. 'Trust me.' She whispered.
'No one has ever stayed this long in my life, claiming to care about me. Nadir is different,' he assured, taking her intake in breath to mean she was about to argue. 'He stays out of thanks for what I did for him many years ago in Persia, and I do count him as a friend, but it is not the same. He does not smile at me as you do, nor does he wish to be in my presence. You are…special to me, Christine, and I do not want to see that end.' He told her, daring to flicker his eyes up to hers.
'Nothing is ending, Erik. I will still be here.' She promised again.
'It will not be the same.'
'No, it won't, but that is for the best. You deserve to have someone real as a companion, you truly do. Erik, I am nothing compared to the person I am sure is out there waiting and needing you just as much as you need them. I cannot find them for you. I cannot be them.' She explained.
He shyly rested his hands on her shoulders, leaning in a bit more as he shook his head. 'I do not believe they are, Christine. I do not deserve for there to be. No one could ever…not with me. Not after everything I have done in my life, not with…' He stopped, gesturing to his mask.
Christine seemed to think this over a moment. She pulled back from him slightly, not really focusing on him as he looked at her in a mixture of worry and continued sorrow.
'Erik,' she said slowly. 'If I could fix your face, make you look like everyone else, would you be happy?' She asked.
He stared at her a moment.
'If you could walk along the streets of Paris in the daytime with no mask, would you be happy? Would you find faith in life?' She asked, her eyes telling him she was completely serious in her words.
'I-I do not know. Perhaps.' he looked at her confusedly.
She nodded solemnly before looking back at him with the most sincerely sweet gaze he had ever seen from her. He stared at her, perplexed, for a moment until he noticed she seemed to be fading away.
'Christine?' He asked, growing frantic. 'Christine what is going on?'
'You no longer need me, if this is what will make you happy.' She explained in that calm tone he despised so well.
'No! I do not want this. Not if it means you will disappear. Christine, stop!' He cried, grabbing hold of her quickly disappearing arms. They faded from beneath his touch, but he took her hands instead, pulling them to his chest. 'I do not want it! Stop, please! Christine!'
'Hush, Erik, you do not know what you are saying. This is your chance to be free of the curse that has haunted you all your life. I can give you the life you always dreamed of. Just let me do this for you and you can be happy again.' She insisted, tears once more running down her face.
'No!' He yelled before leaning forward to rest his head in her lap. His legs shakily gave out as he slumped into the side of the bed, one hand still holding hers while the other looped possessively about her waist, pulling her to him. 'I would rather live my life as a monster than have you forever leave me. Please, Christine, stop this. I cannot bear it.' He wept into her like a child.
Christine looked down at the once tall, proud, and intimidating man crying his eyes out into her. She felt terrible for bringing him to this state. Slipping one hand free, she ran it through his dark, thick hair. A song started to erupt from her throat as she soothed him and comforted him. She sang no words, only melody, and stroked his hair and occasionally rubbed his back as he continued to cry into her.
'You are no monster, Erik. You never have been, and you never could be.' She whispered to him gently. His sobs caught into a hiccup at this, but she smoothed small circles into his back, feeling his vertebrae protruding further with each forceful breath.
Against her own will and wishes, her eyes began to feel heavy, and she knew he was close to being drained as well. He felt her sway slightly and sat up, looking at her tired smile. He straightened up some, trying to put some semblance to himself as he petted back his only slightly dishevelled hair and flattening his jacket.
'You need to rest.' He announced, still holding that worry in his eyes.
'So do you.' She said in a dreamy voice. He found his heart racing at this particular tone but he did not care at present to ask why. 'I will be here come morning, though I fear my dress needs a little repair.' She noted, too tired to fully care about modesty. She smiled as red began to creep up his neck.
In a flash he was out of the room and back again, holding a pair of folded black silk pyjamas. 'I do not have any clothes to suit you, but you may wear these in the meantime.' He offered them to her, averting his eyes from her form as he realised he had been thoughtlessly looking at her this whole time. Her bodice was torn from shoulder to opposite hip and the fabric now hung to reveal further the faint ribs running down her chest along with part of her mid-drift. Thankfully the fabric had not pulled away to show any more of her, for he surely would have felt even worse about not concealing her sooner. Indeed, it was only when she sat down that any skin was shown.
Christine blushed and muttered a soft thanks before he nodded stutteringly and turned to leave, only pausing at the door to bid her good night.
