Chapter 19

The performance began perfectly. Meg arrived slightly late backstage, and Carlotta was still slightly ruffled from her tryst with Ubaldo, but the musicians' performance was superior to any they'd done before, and, as always, the crowd was enthralled by Christine's voice. The story itself was met with less respect. The tale of virgins being seduced by handsome masked men met with reality in the minds of Christine, Meg, and Carlotta, but the elegant society people didn't like the sensuality of the story.

Neither did Catherine. She knew somehow that Erik was going to do something, hurt someone, and she was afraid it would be Christine. So, she pulled the girl aside. “Christine, something terrible is going to happen out there, I can tell. Come with me quickly. I'm going onstage.” Christine swallowed.

“He won't take you?”

“Yes, he just might. But don't be afraid for me, my dear. I'll be fine.” She had no choice. In the dressing room, she handed over her costume, and when the time came, Catherine went onstage and sang as though she were fourteen and under Erik's tutelage again.

“No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy. No dreams within her heart but dreams of love!” She looked over above the audience to the managers' box. I love you, Richard Firmin, never forget, I love you.

“Passarino,” his voice made her blood run cold, like she knew it would. She was kneeling now. Her long hair dusted the floor. She fought to put an innocent expression on her face, but she knew in her heart that he was singing to her. Not to Aminta, to Catherine Marie Giry. “I have brought you that our passions may fuse and merge.” Now she stood. He kissed her hand. “What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies before us?” He spun her, caressed her, held her tightly against him.

It her turn now, she had to sing. The music was cuing her, “Past all thought of right or wrong; one final question. How long should we two wait before we're one?”

They sang together now, crossed the bridge, two birds in flight. He touched her ever so gently, presses a kiss to the pulse at the base of her neck. But now, the music changed. He was singing sweetly, singing only to her, “Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Catherine, that's all I ask of you.”

She had to it. It would break his heart, but she owed it to Firmin. She whirled, and, her heart pounding, fire coursing through her veins, tore the mask from his face. There was no scream issued from her mouth, no lightness or dizziness at her temple. She just stood there.

Vengeance was written all over his face. This he had not planned. There was only one thing to do: cut the rope. He wrapped his arms around her waist and they flew, down, down, through the bridge, the floor, down, down, down, where no screams from the dying theatre-goers who were being hit by the falling chandelier could be heard.

Up in the burning auditorium, Firmin had to find Christine. “Where have they gone?” he cried.
She grabbed his hand. “I'll show you, but for God's sake, do what your fiancee says for once and keep your hand at the level of your eyes!”

Behind them, Meg groaned, clutching her stomach. “Somebody help,” she whispered. Carlotta rushed over. “The baby,” Meg gasped. “Now, it's coming now!”

“Now? Dose baby's 'ava de worst timing! Come on.”

Raoul joined them. “What the devil's going on here?”

“She's 'aving a baby.”

“Oh, god, should I fetch a doctor?”

“No time,” Meg cried, “Oh, Raoul, help me!” He was scared, more scared than he cared to admit. She couldn't go now, not when he finally knew that he loved her! He scooped her up in his arms, surprised that despite the added weight of the baby, she seemed to weigh no more than a feather.


In the lair, meanwhile.....

“You try my patience. Make your choice!” he cried, pulling on the rope around Firmin's neck. His eyes bulged, as he gasped for breath. Tears sprang to Catherine's eyes, as she watched her lover slowly begin to fade.

A voice sang out from behind, and both the Ghost and Madame Giry turned to see Christine walking slowly towards them, through the water like a swan. “Pitiful creature of darkness. What kind of life have you known? God, give me courage to show you you are not alone!” She reached Erik, her gown trailing behind her in the water. She reached up and kissed him, growing more passionate by the ticking second. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back.

They broke apart when Catherine cried, “Please, don't let him die! I'll go with you, but free him!”
Erik seemed to ignore her as he stared at Christine, the girl he had trained and watched over since she was young. It couldn't be possible that he had actually had feelings for her, could it? He loved Catherine! Or so he had thought. Then he spoke to the weakening Firmin, “Take her, forget me, forget all of this! Leave me alone, forget all you've seen! Take the boat, swear to me never to tell the secret you know of the angel in hell.”

Christine rushed to Madame Giry's side, and together they untangled Firmin. Catherine kissed him gently before lowering him into the boat. “Goodbye, Erik. Goodbye.” There was an air of finality about her words. She meant it this time. She would never be entangled in a relationship with him again.

Christine stood and watched them leave, her back to Erik. “You're not leaving, Christine?”
She turned to him. “Not unless you ask it off me, Angel of Music.” His eyes filled with unwanted, unshed tears, he pivoted in the water and walked to his bedside.

“Masquerade,” they sang softly, “Paper faces on parade. Masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you.” He watched as she approached him, the look on his face one of realization. “Christine, I love you,” his voice cracked and wavered.

Christine took his hands, and pulled them to her. “Let me be your freedom. Let daylight dry your tears! I'm here, with you, beside you to guard you and to guide you.”

He pulled her close, lightly caressing her back. “Oh, Christine, how could I have been so blind?”
“Let me be your shelter, let me be your light! Your safe, no one will find you. Your fears are far behind you.”

“Marry me, Christine. Love me!”

“I do love you, Erik. All I've ever needed was your love in return.”

“You have it, Christine. Forever and always, I will need you and love you. My Christine Daae!”

“Christine, where is Meg?” came a cry from afar. Christine broke free of Erik's embrace, and ran to the mirror.

“Madame!”

“Where is she? I cannot find her, where is she?” Catherine whispered, her tear-stained face crumpling as thought the rivers were to run all over again.

“Erik!” Christine cried, turning just in time to see him disappear through a tunnel. “Erik will find her. Come, Madame,” she directed, leading Catherine to the bed. She gathered the older woman in her arms and Catherine sobbed. “Oh, dear Madame. Everything will be fine. Erik will return her to you.”

“No, Christine. You cannot be with him.”

“Why not?”

“He has a child. My child, my Meg.”

“Why, Madame?”

Catherine stood and moved away. “We were young, he was handsome, even with a deformity. It just happened. He played, and I sang the music of the night! I felt bad for him, Christine, and came to love hime as he was. Christine, he was treated horribly before he came here. He was with the gypsies, being beaten every night for money. I saw it, Christine. And I saw him kill someone. I saw the man strangled like Buquet. I had to help him, he had to get away! So I brought him here, and we became friends, then lovers, then I ran away. I was afraid.”

She collapsed on the organ bench, weeping tears of shame. Chrstine rose, shocked by Catherine's tale. She crossed the room to where the sobbing woman lay. She knelt, and Catherine crouched farther away. “Madame Giry, the past is behind us. I will not let the mistakes of yesterday affect the hope of a bright tomorrow.” She hugged Madame Giry gently, as she herself began to cry.
“Where is she? I don't get it!” Erik bellowed, coming back into the room.

“You mean our daughter?” Catherine whispered.

He stared at her. “No, I mean your daughter, Meg.”

“Where is she?” Christine wondered to herself.

“I am here,” Meg said, entering through a mirror. Raoul was carrying her.

Catherine rose to embrace her daughter. Then, giving her and Raoul a second glance, she cried, “What happened?”

“It's time, though, Mother. The baby will be born any moment, I can...” she paused, a contraction tightening her womb painfully. Blood spurted on her dress. “I can tell! Oh, god, Mother, help me! I insisted my....” she stopped again, muffling a scream in Raoul's stained shirt, “the baby should be born here, where I should've been! Augh!”

“For heaven's sakes, Monsieur le Vicomte, put her down! Over here!” Catherine took charge. Erik became ill in the lake, and Meg screamed again. “Hot water, and towels, lots of them.” Catherine's voice was low and serious.

“Get... Carlotta,” Meg panted.

“Hot water, towels, Carlotta. Hot water, towels, Carlotta,” Christine mumbled as she scurried through a passage. She could see Carlotta ahead, through the mirror. “Carlotta, quick!” she screeched, opening the door and motioning to her. “I know you don't like me, but will you trust me this once, for Meg?”

“I 'ava de 'ot water and towels. Where isa she?”

“Down here. Follow me.”

“Meg,” they could hear as they hurried down the passage. “Will you marry me?”

“Of course,” she whispered. “Christine, Carlotta,” Meg's voice was weak as they approached, “Ki Lee de Chagney, the future Vicomte de Chagney.”

Christine's eyes welled up as she looked at the very new-born baby. “Ours will be that beautiful,” Erik whispered.

“Christine, he doesn't look like Andre,” Meg's voice was tearfully grateful.

“No. 'E's perfect,” Carlotta whispered. Christine smiled. She couldn't help it; for once the two divas agreed on something.




~ Thanks for reading... to read more of Christine, Meg, Raoul, Catherine, and Erik, visit www.pointofnoreturn-inluvwitheb.blogspot.com.

I hope you enjoyed the fanfic! ~