Helping Erik from the bath had proved not an easy feat for Christine. His overall body strength was dwindling and it took every ounce of energy from him to step out of the tub and walk to his bedroom. He had somehow managed to climb the stairs, with Christine at his arm of course, and now only wished to be in their bed after meals and washing up. Christine quickly protested him going up stairs but was swayed when he pined for the comforts of his bed and a soft mattress. Not the couch.

One evening while she finished helping him dry and step into his fresh night clothes, an oblong box in the corner of his armoire caught her eye.

"What is in there, Erik?" She said, slipping his arm through his clothes. He looked over at the black leather casing and smiled, lowering eyes to watch her button his shirt.

"Bring it to me, I will show you..." He said in merely a whisper, setting himself down into the bed. She obeyed, skirts rustling as she went and took the case from the wooden closet. It's weight was barely nothing!

She handed it to him, sitting atop the blankets at his side as he began to open it.

"A violin?" She said with a giggle, "I should have known."

"Not just any violin, my dear girl...this one was mine when I as a child. My first one."

She didn't know whether to smile or to break out into tears. His childhood was laden with violence and sadness. A smile might not be appropriate.

His smile as he took the instrument out of his velvet lining gave her a chill. Music was love to him.

"It isn't a child's violin, Erik...how could you play it?" She beamed, lying next to him and laying her ear to his heart.

"I managed quite well, actually. My mother...she wouldn't allow me to play the piano when she was present in the house. I procured this on my own and it was something she tolerated on occasion."

"Oh, I see..." She whispered, still in awe of the new beauty she found in the instrument. "My father would play violin every night for me."

Erik began to rise and put his bare feet to the floorboards, shuffling his weight uncomfortably as he tried to stand.

"Erik...no, what are you doing?" She shouted at him, her hand outstretched to catch his arm.

"I want to play for you."

Before she could protest he had already closed his eyes and placed the bow on the strings. Even with a piece of wood so full of age he could make it sing like it was never out of tune. She slumped against the headboard, immediately mesmerized by his long fingers plucking at the strings and grace of his arm sliding the bow back and forth.

Her eyes welled with tears, some streaming down her cheeks. Oh Erik...

The haunting melody of his song filled the house and all Christine could do was weep in her own turmoil. Everything seemed to be weighing on her mind...the numerous doctor's visits, Erik's painful attacks and breathless coughing fits... She was so young in the midst of all of this...and all she could do was wish and pray God that He would save her poor Erik...or let him go without suffering.

The words rose in her throat to tell him to stop, that standing for so long on his feet and the exertion put forth from his music would tire him and he needed to rest, but...she couldn't.

Music is what had brought them together and eventually found happiness in an otherwise miserable life. Music is what had sealed them to each other forever...and right now, in the thrall of his music again...Christine couldn't cease this beauty...not now, not ever.

She was a willing slave to it, his music...always drawing her closer to his fire and flame. Always consuming and never letting go.

After what seemed like an eternity, he ended his song, his breath leaving in sharp gasps. Gazing up and over to the bed he saw that Christine was asleep, curled up to his pillow. She was so beautiful...so good and pure. He had hardly ever deserved such a gift.

The end was nearing for him...he knew. He wasn't so blind as Christine when it came to his health. He was going to die, and soon. Who would take care of this sleeping angel in his bed? Surely his life's savings would suffice for her for the rest of her life but...how could she go on, alone in this house...with no music...no social outlets?

He could only think of one person who could care for her and make sure she lived happily and in comfort. And though his heart leaped with a new pain stabbing him in chest, it was the best for his Christine and her life after he was gone.

Returning on foot from the little market right outside of the town, Christine shifted the basket of produce and breads in front of her, carrying it with eager breath to return and cook a decent meal for Erik. Her breath caught in her throat as soon as she was in view of her little house.

A brougham was outside of it, horses and their driver resting idly. They hadn't just gotten there. Christine swallowed back the lump forming in her throat, prepared to drop her groceries and run up and into the house.

"Erik..." She whispered in a rushed breath, heaving the heavy basket onto the little porch and forcing the door open so abrupt that she could have knocked it off it's hinges.

"Erik?" She cried out, grasping her thick skirts and pulling them up so she could move faster throughout the house.

"In the den, Christine..." She heard him call back. A sweeping of relief flooded her and she stopped only to take in a suitable breath. Thank God.

It was only when she entered the den that her breath ceased and her heart stopped.

"Raoul?" She barely could speak. "What...what are you doing here?" She was frozen in her spot, eyeing Raoul as he stood up from his seat at first glance of her out of propriety. Erik sat at the couch. Two glasses of brandy partially sipped at a nearby table.

"I invited him here." Erik said cautiously, taking a deep breath.

"Hello, Christine..." Raoul cooed softly, moving slowly to touch her arm.

"No...no, Erik what is this? Why is he here?" She ignored the finely dressed man at her side and looked deep into her husband's eyes. His mask was replaced and she wished nothing more than to tear it from him so that he might not hide his true expressions. Tears stung painfully at her eyes.

"I called him here, Christine...about you. I...need you taken care of when I die. It is a matter I have long ignored and now I am assuring you a comfortable life."

"What?" She snapped at him, her breathing so scarce she thought she might faint. "Why...why would you do this? I don't want him to take care of me! Have you completely lost your mind, Erik?"

"Christine..." Raoul's soft voice tried to soothe in the background.

"No...no I won't let you do this, Erik..." The tears easily slid down the path's of her cheeks.

"Christine...let's be rational here...when I am gone...who will look after you? Who will make sure you have what you need?" His masked face tilted, a hint of irritation in his voice.

"I have been doing that for months as I take care of you, husband...do you forget that? Or am I such a lost little child without a man to hold my hand? How dare you, Erik...and how dare you Raoul of even giving in to his request!"

"Christine...this is a terrible predicament for you...let me help, please..." Raoul said, reaching now to place a kind touch at her shoulder.

"No!" She snapped out of his reach and fell at Erik's feet, grasping at the hem of his trousers.

"You know nothing! Leave my house at once!" She pointed her shaking finger towards the door, letting tears flow freely.

"Christine..." Raoul protested, his heart obviously shattered.

"Get out!" She cried, her whole body giving way to a sob as she clutched onto Erik. "Oh, Erik...how could you do this...how could you..."

"Shh...Christine, please...please understand...do you think I want to leave you without anything, or anyone? I don't want a life for you in this cold and dark house, alone...do you understand that?" He took her shoulders and brought her up to sit with him on the couch. He looked up at locked eyes with Raoul.

Raoul's heart twisted in pain to see her so adamant and affectionate with Erik. He had the chance to have Christine again as his, and that already was slipping away. Nodding to Erik and tipping his hat he left the house and climbed into his carriage.

"I love you so much, Erik..." She whispered between her sobs, grasping at his shirt as she nuzzled his neck. "Don't bind me to Raoul because of me being a woman. I can take care of myself!"

"Shh...I should have made it known to you of my intentions of such a visit from the Victome. Don't you want a content life where you will want for nothing?"

"I am already living such a life, Erik...will you never see that?" She sobbed, soaking his shirt. "I want you! I want you to live for me! I won't let death take you away...I swear it..."

He smiled, kissing her hair. "Even your angelic graces couldn't stop death, my love...I only pray that I can meet you again one day. I fear that there is a pit in hell reserved only for me."

"God, Erik stop talking like this! Do you want me to be sick with grief?" She could already feel the pounding at her temples and her body feel a chill in it's weakened state.

He held her a little tighter. "I should like to take care of you, for once..."

"You have taken care of me, Erik...and you always will...even after..." She winced at the pain in her head and buried her face in his neck. "Oh, God ...Erik...how will I bare this torture?"

"Remember me, Christine...remember all that I taught you and the love I held so deep for you. You could live on that alone for an eternity if it held any merit in this life."

"No more, Erik...no more talk of death tonight...I only want to feel your arms around me like this and hear the music of your heart beat."

He lifted her chin up so that she could meet his masked stare. His hands were dreadfully cold.

Silently she removed his mask and tossed it on the floor. She met his lips gently, sliding her arms around his neck and caressing the thin hair of the back of his skull.

He kissed her back with a passion, parting her lips with his tongue and relishing the sweetness of her mouth upon his. His hands held tight at her small waist, caressing up to the small of her back and into the mass of dark curls at the end of her silken strands.

She couldn't contain the moan that escaped her lips, feeling Erik's hold on her grow tighter, possessive. Her tears had ceased and all she could focus on was the humming of her blood rushing in desire. His lips had moved to the hollow of her throat, kissing delicate flesh and over her bounding pulse. The pain in her head was slowly dissipating and she sighed in pleasure as his hands found the sensitive skin at her legs beneath her petticoat.

"Erik..." She breathed between his fervent kisses, watching as his hand came up and parted the thin gauze of her chemise and slip inside to cup her breast. Out of instinct she arched her body into his, melting at his touch and eager to claim his mouth with hers again. She was straddling him now as he pressed into the back of the chaise, hands shaking as she went beneath her skirts to free him of his clothes, his sex pressing into her inner thigh as she stroked the scars of his face.

"No, Christine...let me love you in our bed..." He forced the words out, nearly numb with desire. She smiled and kissed him gently all over his face.

"Yes, my husband..."

Once upstairs Christine helped him to lay down, resuming her position atop him, teasingly untying the bindings of her dress and corset. He gave a faint smile at her little show though growing steadily impatient. As soon as her chemise and other undergarments were safely nested on the floor Erik grabbed her naked waist and yanked her to him.

"You are so beautiful...I don't deserve you..."

She ignored him, blushing furiously in her silent reply.

"Why so shy, little Christine?" He teased, watching as she timidly slid his trousers off of him.

She could only giggle, claiming his mouth closing her eyes at the feeling of their bodies pressed to each other. His hand creeped between her thighs.

"God, I want you, Christine...please..."

She couldn't help but release a small gasp of delight as he gripped at her waist and brought her upon him, filling her completely. She moved slow at first, bending down to kiss him and nuzzle at his neck. And then as the desire in both of their stares reached new heights she sought her own pleasure, crying out against him at the sheer power he could make her feel.

It wasn't long before Erik was writhing beneath her from that display, his own ecstasy bringing the most beautiful sound to her ears.

She lay next to him, feeling him immediately rest his head on her pounding heart.

"My angel...my life..." He whispered at the flesh of her breast, bringing his hand to slide over her stomach and rest at her hip.

"Forever, Erik..." She kissed his skull, closing her eyes and sleeping beneath the man who would hold her heart for the rest of her days.

"I love you..." He whispered to her before falling asleep.

"I love you too..." She whispered back with tears in her eyes, holding him tight as she felt him relax against her, his head laying comfortably at her heart.

"Sing for me, Christine..." He whispered, his breath catching in his throat, his fingers gripping at her waist.

She smiled, running her hand over his naked back and up to his face. "Right now?"

"Yes..." He breathed, closing his eyes and edging up the mattress to nuzzle into her neck.

"What would you have me sing?" She whispered, continuing her caresses.

"Anything, Christine...anything you wish..."

She closed her eyes and began to sing an old French lullaby, caressing his unmasked face feeling him relax and slump against her, his breath warm and slow on her neck. Placing a kiss to the top of his head, she let herself follow him in sleep. She dreamt of him, his music...when she first heard his angelic voice. She needed him to live...but she knew she couldn't stop God's plan for Erik or anyone. Her father had taught her that and she had believed it wholeheartedly.

Returning from the market each Sunday afternoon had been part of Christine's week just as any other wife in the town. The spring air was cool upon her face and she was happy that she didn't need her heavy woolen cloak any longer. Flowers bloomed along the road sides, scenting her way back home. It was beautiful. She couldn't help but pluck some from the ground, bunching them into her basket. She placed the basket of goods upon her hip and strode content along the pathways, finally winding and bringing her to a little field that held her and Erik's little home. As it first came into view she smiled, quickening her step eager to get inside of it's walls and prepare supper. Her heart paced a little faster when she could hear the music coming from inside.

She stopped in her path only to close her eyes and listen. The violin. How she had come to love it's awaiting sound each afternoon! Smiling all the way up to the porch she opened the door and set her purchases into the kitchen.

"Erik?" She called, emptying the basket and putting away jars of pickled produce and fruit spreads. Her voice had carried out into the den and the music stopped.

The kitchen door opened and Christine looked over with a smile.

"Yes, mama?" Erik said as he placed the violin at his side.

"Go on upstairs and wash up for dinner."

"But, mama...I want to play some more."

"After supper, darling." She said with a smile coming over to him and kissing his dark hair. "Go on..."

Placing the violin and bow on the kitchen table, Erik ran through the double doors and up the stairs without another word. Christine's eyes couldn't help but gaze down at the instrument lying idle and silent. She touched the dark wood, the strings...closing her eyes. Her Erik had been gone for nearly six years.

Swallowing dryly and pushing back pending tears she took a deep breath and left the table.

In some way she hoped that Erik was watching over her and his son, granting them an otherwise blissful life without him.

Little Erik's stomping feet brought her out of the memory and she sniffed and turned away from his view, finding a knife to cut up vegetables for a soup. Their dinner was quiet, Christine encouraging her little boy to eat more carrots and stop sloshing them around in his bowl, assuring him there would be no music unless he ate a proper dinner. He soon acquiesced, sipping graciously from the bowl itself forgoing the spoon.

"Erik! Please!" She wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"Now may I play the violin?" He said with a smirk.

She sighed heavily and then smiled, "I suppose...".

She watched as he leapt from the table taking the instrument from it's leather casing and drawing the bow over the strings immediately. A chill enveloped her entire body and she couldn't help but succumb to the sound. It was if Erik, her Erik...was here.

An hour passed and it was growing dark and chilled outside. Lighting a few lanterns she and Erik went upstairs to bed. She pulled fresh nightclothes from his armoire and helped him into them, tucking him tight into his bed and shutting his window.

"Mama...sing for me."

She smiled, sitting next to him on the bed caressing back his short black hair from his perfect face. "What would you have me sing?"

"Anything, mama...anything you wish."

A/N:This is it people! I am sorry for breaking my promise and letting our dear, dear Erik go. But it had to be done. I hope everyone liked this story that has read it and hopefully I can post some of my other stuff soon. Thanks for your kind reviews!