This is my first LND story, probably my last, but I had this idea that wouldn't go away, so it could be awful, but please let me know what you think! I haven't written for ages and I'm poorly (long-term, unfortunately), so I'll apologise now if it takes me a while to update (and, also, sorry that this chapter is quite short), but please bear with me :) I did some research to find out how all this worked back then, to check what could/couldn't be done, so hopefully I've got it near enough accurate, but if you know something I don't, then let me know and I'll do some editing. Thanks!

If you need to know who they look like, in my head it's the original London cast. Saw the show twice, before and after the changes were put in, and loved it. I've also watched the Australian one, which I did enjoy (mostly for the sets), so if you'd prefer that cast, go for it :) I just adored the London cast!

Erik knew how it felt to die inside, knew the unending agony of being parted from the one you love so much that the sun never seemed to rise when they weren't around, the days blurring into one, years passing before you'd even blinked. But he'd pushed through, working towards the seemingly unreachable light at the end of the tunnel, and suddenly she'd come back, after what had felt like a lifetime and also no time at all. And she'd chosen him. At the end of it all, she'd chosen him, and he'd been overjoyed, his heart fit to burst from happiness - his Christine was really his. All that pain and longing and suffering in the dark had been worth every second, because she was his and he was hers and they had a child, a glorious, wonderful, beautiful child, who was the best parts of both of them, and then...

She was gone.

Just as quickly as she'd came.

And he'd died all over again.

Looking down at the young boy in his arms, Erik held him tighter as his son started to weep again, and vowed to keep him safe, to carry on for him. Gustave would repair Erik's broken heart and teach him a new kind of love, a new kind of happiness. The affection he'd felt for the boy when he'd discovered who he was had been instantaneous, his parental instinct taking him by complete surprise. There was nothing he wouldn't do for him, nothing he wouldn't give him. Gustave was his chance, now, his chance at a normal life.

"Mama..." Gustave cried into Erik's shoulder, voice muffled against the material of his coat. Small hands grabbed at his lapels, and Erik shifted from his knees so he could sit properly, cradling Gustave in his lap as if he were still a baby. The poor boy. It had been clear to see just how close he'd been to his mother, and he must be so scared, so frightened at the prospect of life without her.

"I'm sorry, Gustave, I'm so sorry."

"Christine?"

Erik blinked, having momentarily forgotten that Raoul was there, holding his dead wife in his arms.

"Christine!"

Gustave sobbed, and Erik's head snapped up. "Vicomte!" he growled, not wanting his son to be scared anymore than he already was.

Raoul, pale and exhausted, looked at Erik with urgency. "She's breathing!"

"What?"

"A flutter, on my cheek, but I felt it..."

Erik gently prised himself from Gustave's grasp, giving him a quick look of reassurance before rushing to Christine's side, his heart pounding. She couldn't be... could she? He held a hand against Christine's mouth, waiting for any sign that she could still be alive. At first, he felt nothing, and he wanted to punch Raoul for getting their hopes up, his blood boiling. And then he felt it. Gentle, barely there, a ghost of a whisper, but he felt it. She wasn't dead – the blood loss had made her lose consciousness. Oh, how could he have been so stupid? Quick as a flash, Erik placed pressure against the wound in Christine's stomach, cursing himself. How long had she been freely bleeding out for since he'd thought she'd gone? Minutes, precious minutes that could have a profound effect on her eventual outcome.

"I thought she was dead! Why didn't you check?"

"I... I did. She wasn't breathing, I was certain of it! Quick, put your coat around her, she's freezing!"

"Mother!"

"Gustave..." Erik started, but he didn't know what to say, so he just watched as his son grasped his mother's hand and begged her to wake up. Where was that damn doctor? As soon as the thought entered his head, a figure appeared though the mist, and running up the pier, Madame Giry trailing behind, was the doctor.

"We thought she was dead, but she's breathing – barely, but she's breathing. Oh, God, the blood, there's so much blood..." Raoul gently passed Christine to the doctor, and Erik was sure the man was about to be sick.

"She won't be alive for much longer if we don't get her to the hospital," the doctor said frankly, quickly checking her over. "There's an ambulance waiting at the end of the pier – she'll have to go to Kings. Pick her up, gently," he ordered Erik, who swept Christine up in his arms and followed the old man back up the pier, trying not to jog her about too much as he ran, Gustave and Raoul right next to him.

"But Kings is miles away! It's half an hour, at least – she won't make it!"

"She needs surgery, and she won't get that at Coney. All we can do is hope and pray."

It seemed to take a lifetime to get to the ambulance, but when it appeared through the haze, Erik had never been so pleased to see anything in his life, the angel in his arms and his son aside. He placed Christine carefully into the carriage, and was then shooed away by the doctor.

"I'm going with her," he said, voice commanding, but the doctor shook his head.

"No, there isn't enough room. There are things I need to do for her. But I do need the boy - she'll need a blood transfusion and them being related is her best chance. You'll have to follow behind. I'll do my very best for her, I promise."

"What? My blood!"

"Gustave, listen to me." Erik knelt down and placed his hands on his son's shoulders, doing his best soothe him. "Your mother is very sick, but you could help save her life. I know you're scared, but at the end of it, you'll be fine, I promise. She needs you to be brave for her - can you do that?"

Teary-eyed and obviously terrified, Gustave nodded, and let himself be lifted into the carriage.

"Good boy. We'll be right behind."

And with that, the carriage was ordered to leave, the horse breaking into a canter as it pulled away, and all Erik could do was watch helplessly as he saw the doctor pressing pads against Christine's stomach and checking her pulse, a tear running down his cheek. He sniffed, and wiped it away harshly.

"I'll go with you," Madame Giry suddenly spoke up.

Erik turned and looked at her solemnly. "No, madame, you will not. Go and look after your daughter – she needs you."

"I'm so sorry..."

"Go."

Madame Giry nodded and hurried off, her usually stoic resolve completely broken.

"And what about me?"

Erik didn't want to see Raoul's face ever again, but he found that now, after everything, he couldn't deny him the chance to know what would happen to Christine. To send him away when she was close to death, no matter how much he hated the man, wouldn't be right, because despite his drunkenness and his gambling, he would always love Christine, and Erik couldn't change that. He'd got the girl, so he couldn't take this away from the dejected Vicomte as well. "Come," was all he said, as he walked away.

Hope you enjoyed! Please drop me a review if you did. The hospitals mentioned are real hospitals that were in that area at that time. I love Google XD