He's a little does of Christine and Erik. Enjoy.

Chapter 35

Oh, Christine

"Angel?"

"Christine," he whispered. She stood in from of him. He was rigid; overcome with emotion. "Christine..."

"I often thought of this day." Her body shook. Her eyes red. "I thought of it and what I would do—what I would say." She paused to steady her breath. "I never forgot you for one day—not one moment. After all this time, angel, I still cannot find the words for this apology that comes too late—this late apology that I owe to you...words I should have voiced long ago."

"No, no, no!" Erik cried through his hands. "Don't, Christine. Do not do this." He sank to his knees.

"I've had a long time to think about it, angel." Tears leaked from her eyes. "I was blinded—but now I see clearly, angel. I choose you."

"No, Christine," Erik sighed through his hands. He looked up to see an aged but still beautiful Christine standing, and looking upon him with excitement. "Don't do this to me, Christine."

"Come, angel!" She grabbed his hands and pulled him over to her bed. He winced at his side as she plopped them both down. She grabbed papers off her night stand and thrust them into his hands.

"See? I wrote this song for you, angel! I wrote it! I thought you would love it! Raoul doesn't like it. He says it's nonsense, but I knew you wouldn't think so!" Her words were too fast for Erik. He felt overwhelmed. His head was spinning.

"Christine," he said quietly, not trusting his voice. "Christine...Christine." He could say nothing but her name.

"What is wrong, angel?" She inquired. The smile and excitement faded. "Are you all right?" He shook his head and closed his eyes."Angel?"

"Oh, Christine," he sighed as he pulled her to him. He held her tightly against his chest as tears escaped him. "This isn't right."

"I've missed you so, Erik," she said as she clung to him. "I've thought of you every day since...Don Juan Triumphant. I should have stayed with you!"

"You don't mean that, Christine," he said sadly.

"I do!" She replied. She pulled from him to meet his eyes. "I regret it everyday. I should have choose you."

"I just don't understand..." He pulled from her completely and stood, pacing to the far side of the room. "How did it end up like this?" He ran a hand through his hair.

"End up like what, angel?"

"Stop calling me that! I am not your angel," he roared. His voice echoed off the walls. Christine began to sob. "No, no, no, Christine." His voice softer now. "Don't cry. Don't cry."

"Where's my angel, papa? Where is he?" Christine stared at the ceiling as she sobbed. "He isn't my angel, papa. Take him back!"

Erik wanted to scream. He could not deal with the crazy. Realization donned on him. He had done this to her. His image, her angel's image, has haunted her all these years...driving her over the cliff of sanity.

"I'm here, Christine," he whispered as he took her into his arms once more. "Your angel is here. Don't cry. Please don't cry, Christine. It's alright. I won't raise my voice again."

"Do you promise?"

"Yes, of course, Christine," he said soothingly. The manner in which she spoke baffled him. She seemed like the little girl he would sing to at night when she had bad dreams; not the young woman who he grew to love, those many years ago. "Your angel is here, my dear Christine."

"Why did you leave me?" she asked.

"I did not leave you." He stroked her hair.

"Yes, you did."

"No, I did not, Christine," he sighed. "You left me."

"I don't—" She stared up at him with tears in her eyes.

"You must remember the last time you saw me." She shook her head. "I came to ask you for...Pierre..." He let his voice trail off as he was overcome with emotion again.

"Who's Pierre?" she asked.

"Our—our son, Christine." He spoke slowly to hold back tears. "My boy—our boy."

"I don't have a son," she replied somberly.

"We have a son." His voice wavered ever so slightly. "You denied me him when he was a boy."

"I just don't understand..." He could feel her groping. She was trying to make sense of things.

"You have a daughter, too," Erik said. Guilt crept into his heart.

"Cossette."

"Yes, Christine." He stroked her hair again, pulling her into his lap as they sat on the bed. "She's a beautiful girl. A good girl. Our son on the other hand..."

Christine's face reddened suddenly. She sat up straight and stared at Erik. "I forgot about...that night." she said. "I forgot about our...secret meetings."

"No need for embarrassment, Christine," he assured her. "It was a mistake." He closed his eyes.

"No, it wasn't, Erik." She hastily placed a kiss to his his exposed cheek. He flinched as though he had been burned. "I should have stayed with you-"

"Don't, Christine." He looked down at her sadly. "Please don't do this to me. I cannot endure this again. What could have been—what might have been. I cannot."

"I made a mistake, Erik," she persisted. "It's taken all this time, but I wasn't happy with Raoul. I do not love him like I love you. I loved you since the first time you brought me to the lake under the opera house and you sang to me—the music of the night. I was afraid of my feelings. They were so raw and intense, Erik. You must understand. I was young then. It frightened me. Raoul was safe."

"Why did you agree to be engaged to him then?"

"Because he was safe, Erik! You frightened me. I wasn't ready for your world."

"Your excuses ruin your apology."

"I am very sorry, angel. I wish you could understand how sorry I am. It was my fault, all of this." She held him tighter. "I never intended to cause you pain."

"I wish I could take back all the times I gave in to you," he said threw gritted teeth. He removed her from his lap. He stood and crossed his arms.

"Erik-"

"Even now! After the disaster at the opera house—when you ripped the mask from my face for a second time-" She flinched at his words. "Even after that, Christine! You called on me several times after you married Raoul—and I came like a fool—a fool with hope. I came to you and held you, sang to you, made love to you, had a son by you! You denied me him, Christine. You denied me my son. He hates me! See this!" He lifted his shirt to show her the bandages soaked in red. "Pierre did this!"

"I'm sorry, Erik—I've made some bad choices," she cried.

"You ruined my life!"

"You ruined mine!" she shot back.

"At least you had a life. You had two children. Two men! A husband and your angel. You got to enjoy Cossette and Pierre!" he growled.

"How do you know about Cossette?" She rubbed her eyes.

"She came to find me," Erik said calmer now. "After you died."

"What?" Christine stared at him.

"She said you asked for me on your death bed," he replied. "I mourned you, Christine."

"Raoul must have told her that..." She let her voice trail off.

The silence passed between them for a long moment.

"What else did she say?"

"Many unpleasantries I don't wish to discuss," Erik said grimly.

"I'm so sorry, Erik! My poor Erik!" she sobbed. "I shouldn't have left you alone!"

"You've got nerve," he sneered. "I am not your Erik anymore, Christine."

"You are my angel!"

"Was—as in past tense. You threw all of that away, Christine! Not I. You had plenty of chances to correct your mistake—as you said. I offered you my hand countless times, but you always rejected me. I demand to know why!" He slammed his fist down on her vanity as he paced. "Why?"

"I told you. I was young. I was afraid!" she cried. "What more do you want?"

"That's not good enough, Christine." His tears turn to anger. "You had given me false hope for so long! You led me on! Even now—with your touches and apology and kind face, but there is nothing kind or pretty about you anymore, Christine."

"I regret so much, Erik! I willingly throw myself at you now!" She stood and closed the distance between them. "There are so many things I wish to express and I cannot. But I love you, Erik."

"Do not say those words to me!" He pushed her back.

"It is true, Erik!" she countered. "You cannot say that you don't love me." His face softened.

"I do not love you...like I loved you...when you were my only source of compassion."

"I don't understand, Erik-" She searched his eyes. "There's someone else...isn't there?" He hung his head. "Who?" she demanded.

"You will hate me for it." He could not meet her eyes.

"Erik? Who?" she screamed at him.

"Cossette."

"How could you!" She slapped him.

"How could I, Christine?" he asked incredulously, holding he stinging cheek. "How does it feel to know you want something but cannot have it? Hm?"

"Erik, I love you. I—I'm sorry-"

"I have waited a long time to hear those words from you, Christine. I would have done anything to hear them once upon a time. Now, though...they do not have the same impact!"

"Because you are in love with my daughter, Erik!" she shrieked. "You are suppose to love me!"

"You have never loved me as I loved you—never! Yours in not a passionate heart—your heart has no flame! You don't even love me now, Christine. Not at this moment-"

"Will you just-"

"Shut up!" he yelled into her face. "Let me tell you, let me. Every time I look at your face, Christine or even remember it, it wrecks me. And the way you have treated me! You ruin everything I do—everything I have ever wanted to do! I pinned my dreams on you—you shattered them, Christine. I admit it, I still love you, Christine and I always will, but I won't allow myself that torture—that heartache again.

"If you could see the way Cossette loves me, maybe you could understand. I will marry her, Christine." He paused to collect himself. He could see that he obviously hurt her—he hurt himself. "If you love me, Christine, you will let me go to her."

"Erik, I love you..." She embraced him.

"I know," he said. Once she released him, he lifted her chin with his gloved finger to meet his gaze. He placed a gentle kiss to her lips.

"Don't forget me," she whispered. Tears streamed down her face.

"Goodbye, Christine."

Deja vu for sure. Review and tell me how you liked/hated this chappy, please.

Happy Day,

E.O.L.