A/N: I have gone against my usual writing style to write in 1st person so don't blame me if it is slightly odd… I'll get used to it one day…

Chapter 1 – Which angel should I follow?

"I sit and wait,

Does an angel contemplate my fate...?"

Erik

When I say that life is not a force with which to challenge, as I often tell myself on lonely nights, I do not intend to imply that it is somehow too great a foe.  No, no, quite the opposite.  Life gives up too quickly, loses too easily, puts up too weak a fight…  Life gives in to death; and death is infinite…

However… life is stubborn!  When told to give up, it fights back with a force ten-fold.  When challenged, it fades into darkness, never to resurface…  Yes, life is stubborn!  For years, I refused to give up life even when I was battered to within an inch of it, but as soon as I decided it was too much, death was nowhere in sight.

Fate is, by far, the most fickle of all the other-worldly forces.  It can be changed, and is constantly changed on mere whims.  I had always been destined to have a loveless, and unloved fate… and then came Christine.  She taught me how to love someone with all my heart and soul, and through a burning passion.  She knows that I care but she doesn't know that I am, and always will be, in love with her.  I expect the extent she thinks I love her is that of a doting teacher.  Which, by all means, you could say that I am that, as well. 

Christine… my darling angel!  What a goddess she is, I adore her, and yet, she has no idea.  I think about her as every second ticks by on my watch, as every breath brings me one step closer to death, as every heartbeat makes me love her infinite times more than the last.  I love her deeply and constantly, but I'm sure that the second I'm out of sight, she is probably glad to put me out of mind, too.  She'll never love me…

While I stood there, on top of the Grand Opera House, thinking about dear Christine, I could feel myself getting ill.  Yes, I knew by then that I had been stupid to stand in the rain, the hailstones and the terrible cold wind but it is easy to be wise after the event.  Resigning myself to the fact that the damage had already been done, I staggered painfully down to the underground lake with a ragged stride and ungraceful step.

The lines of dull pain sharpened and shot across my chest making me wince as I doubled over in pain from the cramps in my stomach.  Damn, why did I let myself get this sick? – I must have been standing on the roof for hours to get into such a state.  I crumpled down to the pebbly shore with an overwhelming urge to release the contents of my stomach out through my mouth.  And, I did just that – I vomited into the placid waters of my black lake. 

The burning acid feel of my irritated throat made me close my eyes to find some relief.  Of course, it was futile and all I could do was begin to pull my aching body along the shore to my house by the lake.  The rocks did nothing but hinder my plight – I found that they tattered my dress suit and bruised my elbows, not that I have to point out that I was now covered in a coating of dust. 

My breath came in pained gasps as I dragged myself along the wooden floors towards Christine's room.  I would rest there, in the only place that comforted me, but I would be sure to vacate it before Christine's regular arrival the next night.  She came back most every night and stayed all day until rehearsals.  I'm sure she doesn't realise the anguish she causes me when she leaves everyday, or the worry she evokes if even one minute late, but I can't blame her for her naivety.  It is, after all, one of the many reasons I love her, and at least I know she will return shortly.

Raising myself onto her luxuriously comfortable bed and pulling her satin sheets up around me, I could smell the scent she always left behind her.  It made me feel better to be able to savour the warmth of her scent hugging me as I slowly fell into a dull unconscious state.

*    *    *

I wakened again, I don't know how many hours later, to that comforting smell of my beloved Christine.  It soothed my actual physical pains and my vision cleared slightly as I tried to sit up.  Pulling myself onto my elbows, an unbearable pain fell through my aching stomach, forcing me to drop back down on my side rather than risk vomiting on Christine's sheets.

Untangling my arm from the covers and taking my watch out of my waistcoat, I saw that it was much later than I had expected, in fact, it was around midnight – about four hours after Christine was supposed to have returned to my home.  Had she come back, found me in her room like this and decided to leave?  Forever?  Had I lost her?

A gentle cough took me from my reverie with a start as suddenly a long blue shape settled in my view.  It was my darling, Christine, wrapped in one of my cashmere blankets, sitting in the huge armchair by the bedside – by my side.  She was certainly asleep and I found myself smiling uncontrollably despite my pains and blurred vision.  It was definitely a sight to behold; she was so beautiful even if the chair did seem to swallow her up!  It is amazing that such voluptuous beauty could come so naturally to one so innocent and pure.  She had once again captivated me to the point that my thoughts were rendered trivial. 

I lay for over an hour, watching her as she slept peacefully.  Had I been in full health I would have switched places with her in an indignant heartbeat to give her the bed, but as it was – I could barely move and not without immense pain.  I watched as her eyelids fluttered open, her cheeks flushed rosy pink and she graced me, unworthy as I was, with a smile from the heart and a look of concern in her azure eyes.

Dear Christine raised herself gracefully from the chair and sat on the bed beside my still form, causing me to flinch but fortunately she didn't notice… or attributed it to my ill-health.  She laid her delicate hand on my forehead; I knew it was purely to check my temperature – which, by the way, was soaring! – but I felt myself lean into her faultless palm.  I believe she thought I was just trying to gain some more of the cool off her hand but I really just wanted some comfort and I was relieved that she kept her palm on me.

The softness of her skin made my flesh tingle and I gasped involuntarily as she leaned down closer to me, brushing my hair with her fingers.  "How are you, Erik?" she asked me, really starting to look worried.

I wished I could move enough to get up but I was utterly useless!  And all I could do was hoarsely mumble something.  She had to put her ear next to my trembling mouth to hear me properly.  "Chri… tine, I'm… sor… ry you… had to… see… me like… this."

She smiled, what I could only guess was a reassuring smile, and stroked my good cheekbone in a preoccupied way.  "Don't be silly.  You're very sick.  I'm going to stay with you until you get better – I'll tell the managers I can't finish this run of Faust.  Now, sleep… you need rest."

Generally, I would have argued but she was right and I was in no fit state to speak.  I remember her pulling the covers up around me, giving me a sip of water and singing me a lullaby before I let the darkness swallow me up.

*    *    *

I was completely oblivious to most things over the next few days; the details of all that happened are sketchy at best.  I vaguely recall flitting in and out of consciousness – I couldn't really figure out which was which – they both were filled with pain and restlessness.  And they both had my precious angel in them – in one she told me to fight it, not to leave her; in the other she told me that it would be easier to just let go…  I knew suddenly which was reality… but should I follow it?

Sooner or later, I would have to go one way or another – depending on which path I decided to take, an angel certainly did contemplate my fate… my angel.  If she hated me I would die and if she loved me I would fight God himself to just get back to her… but as I couldn't be sure…

Darkness pulled me once more and I let it, I was beginning to think that life wasn't worth fighting for, that death would be my release.  After all, 'If Fate shall have me King; then Fate may crown me' – if Fate wants me to live then it will have to do all the fighting for me…

Which angel should I follow…?

Next Chapter: Christine considers life without her Angel… and life with him.