A/N: Set directly after Christine leaves after going back the second time to deliver her wedding invitation. The only difference is that she is NOT pregnant in my phic. There will be too much angst and problems as it is!

A/N: (2013) I have recently gone through and done some INTENSE editing to this story. I think it flows a lot better now and I hope I put in a bit more character development and wrapped up a few plot points better.

Christine

When he stopped breathing, I cried.

He was in my arms, like he asked to be, and I kissed his poor face a million times. I knew he wouldn't want me to cry—he had specifically told me not to—but I promised myself I would not cry anymore. But surely he would allow me these few moments to get my emotions in check.

And yet now he was gone. My angel would never sing to me again.

He had also asked me not to linger. I could hear voices out in the main room and I suddenly realized Raoul had come after me. Dear Raoul… how he loved me! I wanted to say I loved him too—and I did!—but I couldn't say it now, not with my dead husband in my arms.

I kissed Erik one more time…

… and I knew by giving him my heart, I had broken his.

Nadir

The girl came out some time later. She was carrying Ayesha in her arms, and that's how I knew he was really gone. I sighed.

The young Vicomte stood up hastily and went over to his fiancé. She smiled at him, and then turned to me.

"I will take care of everything here." I told her softly. She nodded.

I glanced at the boy, who also nodded and began leading her out.

"And Christine?" I called.

She did not turn, but paused.

"Thank you."

She seemed to quiver for a moment, and then the young couple disappeared out the door. Gone.

I felt a sort of sodden anger and a bit of relief at the whole situation. Christine Daae was gone. Erik was gone. For her, it would be a new beginning, for her to move on. Not for me - I had been through too much loss in my life to be in such a positive position. I felt only tired, with a hint of failure. Erik, despite his deep characters flaws, had only wanted to be loved. In a way, as his friend, I had failed him. When he had left Persia, I had such foolish hopes for him. This was not how I wanted it to end.

I sighed again. I bent down and picked up a sheet of music. It was torn completely in half. If I could somehow paste it together, it could be saved. I held the pieces together and pondered it.

"I would prefer you didn't, Nadir."

I dropped both sheets.

Erik stood in the doorway, looking a little weak, but very much alive. My mouth fell open. Was I seeing things? Was this his ghost? I had no doubt that the real ghost of the Phantom of the Opera would haunt me the rest of my life.

"Did I surprise you?" he asked quietly. "Is she gone?"

I could only stare.

"Erik," I said finally, clearing my throat. "You—"

But I could not finish.

"Appear to be alive?" he asked me. "Unfortunately, I rather think I have looked very unalive my whole life- it has been used many times to my severe disadvantage."

"Why are you alive?" I breathed. "Why is Christine gone? What is... what are you doing?"

He grimaced and turned back into his room.

My senses had caught up with me, my brain working very fast at this odd revelation. Christine had returned because she thought he was dying. Christine had left because she thought he had died. Something was not right about this.

"Erik!" I called, following him into the room. He was packing things into a small bag, over by the grandfather clock. "What did you do?"

"I did what I needed to do," he replied steadily, not looking up.

"Which was what?"

"Whatever I needed in order to make her leave."

I looked at him in horror. "You pretended to be dead? Why in Allah's name would you do that? Why aren't you dead? If the girl is gone, you should be dead!"

He coughed and I was reminded that he was very sick, even if he was alive. He gave me a sort of tempermental look, but did not answer me.

"Why?" I demanded. "Why, out of all the impossible things you have ever done—"

"She would have stayed."

I shook my head. "Maybe. Maybe not. But that's no reason to—"

"Damn it, Nadir! She would have stayed. Trust me!" He closed his eyes for a moment. "She was willing to stay down here with me… and I couldn't do that to her. Don't you see? I had to let her go! She would have stayed! She would have stayed!"

He turned around so I couldn't see him and continued packing.

"So that's it, then?" I asked in disbelief. "You spend the past year going after her, and then when she's finally where you want her, you send her away?"

I suddenly choked as a pair of golden eyes were inches from my own and black-gloved hands curled around my neck. The bag lay strewn open on the floor, the few belonging rolled out.

"I gave her life back!" he hissed. "She was ready to stay—but I am too selfish to keep her in this tomb with a living corpse! I love her! And I love her so much, I want her to be happy. And I can't give her that. He can."

His voice cracked at the end and he let go. My legs turned to lead and I slid down the wall, all the way to the floor.

"So you see." he continued, all emotion suddenly erased from his voice. " I must go far away. So she can be happy. That's all I want." He picked up the bag very easily and began putting the things back inside. "That's all I want."

I stood up carefully. "What if she's happy with you?" I asked cautiously.

His eyes turned to fire. "Don't test me, Daroga…"

"Alright, alright!" I said hastily. I watched him for a moment. "Where are you going?"

He suddenly seemed sick again. "I do not know. I simply know I cannot be here."

"You could come stay with me." I offered.

He fixed his stare at me with a frown. "I was thinking somewhere a bit farther away, such as a different country… or planet…"

"Come, Erik." I protested. "You are still sick. You need someone to watch out for you. You wouldn't last long somewhere else at all."

"I know. My hope is that I will not last long no matter where I am."

"Erik! You're still sick! You might be dead tomorrow anyway! You might as well spend your last days with me."

He shook his head a little bit. "Spend my last days with you? Have you met me, Nadir?"

I was encouraged. "I have a big flat. You wouldn't know I was there. I could pretend you weren't. Please, Erik."

He stared at me for a long time. "Fine." he said. "It's more convenient for me. Don't look so thrilled." he added. "Temporary. And I was under the impression that you didn't like me, but you just feel bad for me. Please do not act like that has changed in any bit." he looked down moodily at the bed. "We were young men in Persia," he said softly. "What times those were."

I sighed. "Whatever it takes to keep you close." Never in a million years would I ever admit to Erik what he meant to me. Did he think he was the only man in this room without any friends?

He pondered this for a while. Then his eyes turned to ice.

"But you say nothing to Christine." he warned, his voice dropping dangerously, and I automatically recoiled. "You don't go near her, you understand?"

I looked away.

"Please?" he asked, much softer. "Please, Nadir, I cannot—I'm not strong enough—"

His voice had gone very quiet again, so that I had to strain to hear it. I stared into those golden eyes. They were so discerning to read...

I nodded. He sighed.

"Come," he told me, lifting up his bag. "The Phantom wishes to leave his domain." He looked around once at the bedroom, and then turned away.

"Goodbye." I heard him say to no one.

I led him out the door.