Christine lay in bed, her face and hair drenched in sweat. It had been only fifteen minuets into the birth, but the pain was almost too much for poor Christine's sickly body. Erik had an arm wrapped around her shoulders, and his other hand holding hers. She screamed for the fifth time since Erik came down to the lair.

"Take a deep breath, Christine," Isabeu coached her patient. She stood at the foot of the bed, aiding with the delivery. "That's it, sweetheart, you're doing wonderful. How's she feeling Erik?"

"How bad is the pain, Angel?" Erik whispered.

"It hurts…" she panted, "So much…" another scream erupted from her lips. She squeezed Erik's hand so hard, he was sure he would break it.

"You're almost there, Christine, the baby's almost out.

Erik let go of one of her hands and caressed her cheek. "Be strong, my love. It's almost over."

"When I count to three, give one more push, and then you can rest." Isabeu encouraged.

Sweet Jesus, thought Erik. So many thoughts were buzzing around his brain, he was getting dizzy.

"One…"

Would Christine and the child be alright?

"Two…"

Will mother and child live? The whole pregnancy must have been traumatizing to them…

"Three!"

Will the child have a normal face???

Christine made a strained face. She screamed for the last time, and her head fell back on the pillow.

Erik feared the worst. "Christine?" she didn't answer. He thought she looked dead.

"Christine?!"

"She's resting," Isabeu said gently behind him. "Let her sleep. She's had a tough time."

He turned to her. She was gazing down at a tiny blanket wrapped bundle in her hands. Tears were glittering in her eyes. "Oh, Erik," she said softly. "Say hello to your child."

He gazed down at the blanket wrapped bundle. Now is the moment of truth… He extended his arms to take the baby, and

--And a gunshot rang out. Isabeu's eyes widened. There was a large bloody wound in her side. She fell backwards, still clutching the baby to her chest.

"Isabeu!" Erik cried out. He bent over to check her wound, but he received a blow to the back of the head from a blunt object. He staggered to hiss hands and knees. A presence ran past him. He couldn't see, but he heard Christine shriek and the baby cry. He tried to stand, and he looked around for the fiend. He saw Isabeu lying facedown in the ground, with a large pool of blood spilling from the wound. The gun that had wounded her lay about five feet from her body. Erik hoped she was alright, but his main concern was for his family.

The baby was gone. So was Christine.

He turned toward the water, and there was standing his hated enemy. The Fop. He was holding Christine against his body, and had a rapier pressed against her throat. The other hand held the baby ominously above the water.

"Monsieur Phantom," he sneered, "We meet again."

A decade seemed to pass before either of the rivals moved. Finally, Erik took a step into the water.

"One more move and they die!" snarled the Fop. He pressed his blade closer to Christine's throat.

"Please monsieur," The former phantom begged. "Let them go. We will leave Paris; we will leave France even, if you only let us go."

"You should have thought about that before you RAPED my fiancée. You monster!" he barked at Erik.

The Opera Ghost's mouth snapped shut. The hate and misery he had felt for his actions were intensified more than ever at this point.

Raoul wickedly grinned at his foe. "Now, you demon, you will hear what I must say. All those months ago, you gave Christine a choice after you trapped us down here. You said either I go free, and she stays with you for eternity, or I die and she goes free. Now I will give you an ultimatum."

"No…" Erik pleaded softly.

"Oh, yes." Fop snarled. "You must choose. Either I let my sword slip across her pretty neck, or I let your…" he couldn't find a word to describe how repulsed he was by Erik's child. "…your spawn drown in the lake. You must choose. Only one may live. Then, I leave you to your darkness."

***

Erik stood there, frozen. How could this man -no, this creature - demand such a price? The love of his life, or the life of his child? No one deserved that.

He tried to plea with him. "For God's sake, Monsieur-"

"You try my patience," the fop growled at his adversary. "Make your choice."

Then it hit Erik. This boy was acting how he had. He was blinded by his hate and rage. The roles had been reversed. Nothing would change this boy. Nothing short of a miracle.

Christine's eyes slowly opened. Her eyes had found her Angel of Music, and they pleaded with him.

"I'm so sorry, Christine," he sobbed, unaware of his own tears. "So, so sorry—"

"YOU ARE OUT OF TIME, MONSTER!" Raoul screamed. "CHOOSE, NOW, OR I'LL—"

The Fop's threat was cut short by another loud gunshot. A gunshot wound split apart his shirt, and he let go of Christine. She snatched her baby out of her captor's hands before he hit the water.

The Fop never moved again.

The two angels looked at each other, and then looked at the direction of the bullet's path. Isabeu was standing on the shore. She was holding the fop's gun in one hand, and the other staunching the blood flow in her wound. "I guess…I'm a pretty good shot, aren't I?" she smiled.

Erik smiled at his companion, and looked back at his bride. She was staring down at her baby, smiling. She glanced up at Erik, with tears in her eyes. "Is it over?" she asked softly. "Truly?"

He slowly made his way towards her, pulled off his mask, and kissed her with an undying passion. When they broke apart, Christine was beaming at her angel.

"It's a boy." She said, and placed her son in his father's arms. He took the child, and looked down into his little face. He gasped.

The first thing that he noticed was the hair. He had a thick mop of black hair, which he inherited from his father. The babe also had sparkling blue eyes, just like his father. His little nose was almost an exact copy of Christine's.

And his face…

His face was perfectly symmetrical, with rosy red cheeks. His father was speechless. He looked back up at Christine. She was looking at the shore.

"Isabeu!" she cried.

Erik looked the way she was looking, and saw Isabeu as she collapsed to the ground. He handed his son back to its mother, and darted to his friends side. Her face was pale, and blood soaked the front of her dress. He lifted her head and shoulders, and called her name again.

"Isabeu?"

Her eyes slowly creaked open. "Erik?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," her friend said quietly, smiling softly. "You saved us, Isabeu. Thank you."

Now she returned his smile. "That's what friends are for," she grimaced in pain.

"Isabeu!" he cried, and raised his fallen comrade into his arms. "Christine?" he called to his angel.

"Yes, my love?" she was behind him the entire time. She was ready to leave.

Erik nodded to her. "We must go. We're going to the nearest hospital. Isabeu needs help, and you and our son need to be check out. And then, we can go home." He crossed to the old shattered mirror, drew back the curtain, and with his new family, escaped into the darkness, leaving fear and loneliness behind in the lair. He knew Isabeu would be safe, shoe would live. She was strong. And his darling bride, she would become strong again. And his son would be a strong, wonderful and handsome young man, and attract many fine young women. He smiled as he entered the predawn Paris streets. He finally had hope, for the first time in his life. And happiness.

It was not only the dawning of a new day. It was the Dawning of a new life for Erik.

Stay tuned for the Epilogue! Thank you everyone for your awesome reviews! They really helped me though my day!