TW: References to suicide.

Sorry for deleting and reposting a few times- I kept getting weird errors. Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think!

Chapter 4

Christine told Raoul she wanted an early night after her long day of rehearsals at the Opera. She returned to her apartment just as the sun was beginning to fall in the sky. She first checked on her aunt, who was fast asleep, as usual, fighting the illness the doctor said would take her life within the year. Christine then changed into a simple black dress and traveling cloak. Reaching under her mattress, she pulled out two sacks of coins, which she slipped into her bag, along with a lantern. Since her engagement to Raoul and her promotion to singer from ballet chorus, Christine had found that she was paying for less and saving more money from each paycheck. She kept this money hidden beneath her mattress. It was her freedom, and this evening she needed to use some of it. As she was about to leave, she saw the white porcelain mask sitting on her vanity. Christine placed it in the drawer and left.

Out on the street, Christine hailed a cab to take her to Saint Sulpice. Erik had made one thing easy for her–it was very innocent for a woman to seek out a place of worship on her own. Once the carriage started moving, she allowed her mind to wander to Erik. She knew there was a very real potential she was going to find his body, a thought which made her shudder. She also knew, though, that she was doing the right thing. Erik had manipulated her into believing that he was an angel sent by her father, which had been wrong. However, he had done it because he feared that if she saw his face she would cower in fear. He had reached out to her in the only way he could fathom in his broken, twisted mind. Christine understood and forgave him. Erik had dropped a chandelier on the audience, killed Buquet and Piangi, and tried to kill Raoul, all out of desperation and anger. These actions were truly sinful, but Erik was a man who knew only hate. He was broken, not evil. He had a chance at redemption; this Christine truly believed. Again, she understood and forgave him.

The carriage stopped outside the church, the massive stone structure a silhouette in the setting sun. She paid the driver to wait for her then climbed the front steps. The sanctuary was quiet and lit with flickering candles. She breathed in the smell of incense and took in the magnificent high ceilings, sending up to the heavens a silent prayer for strength and for Erik. She reached into her bag for the lantern and lit it before finding the entrance to the crypt.

An eerie cold surrounded Christine as she left the warm light of the sanctuary behind her. The darkness of the crypt enveloped Christine as soon as she reached the bottom step. She couldn't see anything beyond the dim light of the lantern. She took a deep breath to calm herself, then gingerly took a step forward. An uneasiness settled over her. The darkness felt alive and fear prickled in her heart.

"Erik?" she whispered.

Silence.

She trailed her fingers along the wall as she stepped further into the darkness. Suddenly, she saw the silhouette of a person before her. She jumped and yelped.

The silhouette didn't move. She stepped closer to find that it was only a statue. Christine sighed with relief, taking in the details of the statue. As the light of her lantern scanned down the stone figure, it illuminated a body in fetal position lying at the base.

"Erik!" she cried.

His back was to her, his spine visibly protruding under his black suit jacket, which was smudged with dust. Christine fell to her knees and grasped his shoulder to turn him towards her.

A quiet groan escaped from his lips. Christine's heart jumped to her throat. He was alive! He slowly opened his eyes and squinted at her. "Christine?" he croaked. "I must be dreaming." He closed his eyes again, the corners of his lips turning up. "It is a good dream, then," he murmured to himself.

Christine was silent, unsure what to say. She reached out and caressed his face, her fingers sliding across the smooth skin of his non-deformed left cheek.

"Christine?" Erik's eyes popped open, and he reached up to touch her hand. His gaze, which had been so far away at first, was now focused on her. "You're really here?"

"Yes," she whispered, a wave of relief breaking over her.

"Oh, Christine," he said desperately, sitting up onto his knees quickly and clumsily, unlike the smooth and confident Phantom she had first met. "Did you…? No, that's silly of me. Why would you…?"

"I came to find you," she said.

Erik's face broke into a flood of emotions, tears pooling in his eyes.

Christine pulled him into a tight embrace as tears filled her eyes as well. She could feel how thin and frail he was, just skin and bones in her arms. Erik wrapped his arms around her timidly. He was shaking. She could feel the contours of his deformed cheek lightly touching her own. As he pulled away, she ran her hands down his shoulders, noticing every bone that protruded.

"When was the last time you ate?" she asked.

"Why?"

"You're so thin."

Erik lowered his gaze to the floor with a shameful expression.

Christine shook her head. "You are not going to die. Not on my watch. Come now, we're going home."

"What?" His eyebrows shot up.

"You need food, water, and a proper night sleep." She stood and reached down to help him up. He looked up at her, his expression fearful like a child. "Oh, Erik," she whispered. "I'm going to take care of you."

Together, Christine and Erik emerged back onto the streets. Erik had gathered his pitiful few belongings and put on a cloak and a hat. The sky was dark now, and it was lightly raining. The driver looked up as she emerged and immediately jumped down to open the door to the carriage.

"Where to, Mademoiselle?" he asked, eyeing Erik questioningly.

"Back where we came from, Monsieur." She reached into her pocket and drew out another bag of coins. "This is for your silence. Not a word about this to anyone."

The driver gave her a nod, helped her into the carriage, and they were off.

Christine watched Erik as they traveled along. He kept his gaze downward and hazy, like he was lost in thought. A tremor ran through his left hand. He glanced up a few times, met her gaze, and quickly lowered his eyes again.

"You saw my letter, didn't you?" he finally said.

"I never read it," Christine clarified softly. "But I know what it was about."

Erik squeezed his eyes shut. Christine decided to change the subject.

"We are going to my apartment," she stated. "I live with my aunt, who is very sick, bedridden, and sleeps most of the day. She never leaves her room, so as long as you're quiet, she won't know you're there."

Erik nodded but didn't say anything. They rode the rest of the way in silence.

When they arrived, Christine led the way up the stairs and into her bedroom. She rummaged around in her hope chest some clothes that had once been her uncle's before he passed away five years ago. She handed them to Erik.

"The bathroom is down the hall. Go clean yourself up. I'll be in the kitchen," she said softly. Erik nodded, looking dazed. Christine watched as he walked down the hallway, struck by the strange sight of Erik in her home.

Christine sang quietly as she prepared a simple meal of bread and soup. The tune was thoughtful, which helped ease her mind.

She turned to put glasses of water on the table and almost dropped them both. Erik was standing in the doorway, wearing a simple pair of slacks and a long-sleeved cotton white shirt. It was the most casual Christine had ever seen him.

"Erik!" she exclaimed. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Just a few moments," he said.

She sighed. "I didn't realize you were there. Come sit," she said, pointing to a chair. Erik sat obediently, his brown eyes following her movements as she placed bowls of soup on the table. Once the meal was set, she sat at the table and bowed her head in prayer. She could feel Erik's gaze burning into her as she prayed, but she dutifully ignored it. She thanked God for the meal and for Erik being alive and asked Him for strength and perseverance in whatever would be coming next.

She opened her eyes and started eating. Once she took a bite, Erik picked up his spoon and began to eat as well. The only sounds that filled the room were slurping and chewing. It seemed so bizarrely normal to share a meal with Erik. The thought made her smile.

Erik ate furiously and was full quickly, evidence of how little he had eaten over the past few weeks. Once he had finished, he watched Christine eat without saying a word. She ignored this, calmly finishing her bowl.

"Would you like any more soup?" she asked when she was done.

Erik shook his head.

"Do you want some tea or anything?"

He looked away.

"Erik? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He was silent for a few moments, a small war being waged behind his eyes he considered his next words. Christine waited patiently. "Why are you doing this, Christine?" he finally said.

"I don't know, Erik. I guess because it is the right thing to do. I couldn't leave you there to die." Christine said.

"I don't want charity," he said sharply. "You were never meant to see that letter." He continued in a quieter tone. "I just wanted someone to know what had become of me, but not you. I wanted you to forget me and live out your days with your Vicomte, in the light like you are meant to."

"How could I ever forget you, Erik? I have thought of you every day since that night. You changed me, Erik. Forgetting you is not that simple."

"I am the Angel of Hell! As you've said yourself, I murder all that's good and have a distorted soul! Why are you doing this? Just let me die." Erik buried his face in his hands and started to cry.

Christine stood and cautiously moved to sit beside Erik. She put her arms around him and rested her cheek on his shoulder. She felt Erik freeze beneath her touch. He jumped from under her arms and stood away from her.

"Stop acting like you care!" he cried. "I see that ring on your finger. I know I will never have what I want with you. Stop mocking me!"

Tears filled Christine's eyes. "I want to help you! I want you to know that there is still so much to live for. And this," she held up her left hand with her diamond engagement ring, "does not mean I can't care about you. There are so many ways to love in this world."

"And I don't know any of them," Erik said bitterly.

"I'm so sorry for all the pain I caused you, Erik," Christine whispered, tears now sliding down her cheeks.

He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for the fear and horror I caused. I'm sorry I exist."

Christine stood and took Erik's hands, staring deeply into his eyes. "I am grateful that you exist," she said intensely. "And I forgive you for everything you've done."

Erik lowered his head and shook with tears. Christine gently pulled him to her and wrapped her arms around his waist. He gently placed a hand on her back and the other on her curls and continued to cry. They stood that way for a while. Finally, Christine broke the embrace to go prepare the sofa for Erik to sleep on.

As she settled into her own bed, Christine mulled over their argument. Erik's question was reasonable. Why was she doing this? She had decided to save Erik on a whim, instinct telling her it was the right decision. But now he was here, in her home. What did she plan to do now? She could only keep this secret for so long. With Erik's unsteady temper, though, Christine couldn't even predict what the next day would bring. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep, thinking of her angel of music asleep just one room away.