Help Me Say Goodbye

I felt like writing a one-shot, and this was all I could think of. I'm SO original, aren't I? Oh well. I do not own POTO.

"Christine…I love you…!"

She watched him carefully, the broken man before her. One last plea for her love, perhaps, one last desperate try. She blinked, willing the tears not to fall.

He watched her, the strong, vicious man from moments ago now reduced to tears. She felt her heart break again, and she closed her eyes. The tears she had been holding now fell to her cheeks, soaking her face.

"Angel…" she whispered, moving so that she was standing before him. "How can you ask such things of me? I…" she paused, kneeling down so they were face-to-face. "I never even learned your name…"

"It's not important now," He replied, his gaze returning to the small music box in front of him. "I daresay they'll be coming soon…you need to get out with Raoul before they do…"

"I can't!" Christine cried. He looked at her, a hopeful look in his eyes. "I'm not ready to say good bye yet…" His eyes fell, as if he knew that it couldn't be so.

"Good bye, Christine…" he whispered brokenly, his eyes once again on his toy, his thick lashes coated with moisture. "Have a good life…I assure you, I won't be there."

The tears on Christine's face seemed to multiply as she grasped the man's hand in hers. "Thank you, for all you've given me," He was looking at their hands, staring at this simple joining of fingers as if it were God's greatest treasure. "I never properly thanked you, you know…" She gently ran her thumb over his strong knuckles, and she swore she saw him shiver. "So many things that I probably don't deserve…"

"You deserve all the fine things the world has to offer, my dear," he replied hoarsely. "Teaching you was a pleasure. I never thought I'd be able to have you, in any case…" he chanced a look at her, then returned his stare to their entwined hands. "I have an awful habit of being right."

"If you never thought you'd have me, why…why did you do all this?" she demanded suddenly, her eyes narrowing. "Why could you not just let me go?"

"Because, my dear," he lightly touched her cheek, and when she did not back away, he stroked it. "I would go to the ends of the earth for you…I would, as you said yourself, kill a thousand men…if you would love me…" His hand dropped from her face and rested on his knee.

"But, angel," she whispered, resorting to her old name for him in lack of a proper title. "How could I live like that? Knowing people had died for the sake of my happiness…" She stared at the hands. She was unaware that she had been holding his so tightly.

"Of course," he replied, taking his hand back. "What kind of life will you lead with your fiancé?"

She was taken back by his question. Of all the things he could say, icy words of hatred or insistent pleas for love, this was the last thing she'd expected.

"A life of comfort," she replied at last, her face white. "Filled with love, and happiness…"

"He's promised you all of these things, has he?" He asked, a small grimace lining his mutilated lips. "And he will come through, be the hero of your dreams…"

"Raoul is a good and honest man," Christine cried, her eyes wide. "How can you even suggest he would lie to me?"

He gave her a strange look, nothing like she'd seen in his eyes before- no fervent desire, vicious loathing, silent begging….it was almost a protective look.

"Because no one must ever hurt you," He replied, emphasizing his words. "He has no troubles when it comes to his financial situation…but has he ever tried to force you to do something that you didn't want to do?"

"Two minutes, Little Lotte."

"Every hope and every prayer rests on you now…"

"I…" she shook her head, banishing the thoughts from her mind. This was a good bye, not a time to question her decision! "No!"

"No, eh?" He asked, his gaze falling over her, making her feel extremely uncomfortable.

"You promised I could go if I desired," she said, her voice shaky.

"Yes, and I am not one to go back on my word, but please," She shifted nervously, breaking the stare to instead gaze at her hands. "Answer my questions."

"They will not change my decision!" she said, her mind buzzing with questions. What game are you playing now? Why do you toy with me so…

"How well do you know him?" He asked, breaking her train of thought with another question.

"I've known him since I was a child," she muttered.

"And how long as an adult?"

"Six months…"

"And how well do you know me?"

"Stop!" she cried, her anger increasing with every word. "It makes no difference how long I've known a man! I know that I love Raoul!"

The silence buzzed in their heads, all that could be heard was the splashing of the water.

"You don't sound very sure," he said finally.

"Raoul's waiting for me,"

"Answer more questions, Christine."

"I must go…"
"I thought you had to say good bye."

"Stop!" she cried, her eyes narrowed. "Stop, Angel, Don Juan, Phantom, whichever it is, stop!"

The silence took over once more.

"Erik," he said finally.

"What?"

"You asked my name," he replied, looking at her. "It's Erik."

"Erik," she repeated. "Now I can address you properly. Good bye, Erik. Thank you for everything you have given me."

She stood up to leave, when Erik called after her.

"If you will not answer me, Christine, answer yourself: have you ever told him you loved him? And if you did, did you mean it?"

They were both silent for a time, Christine paused halfway through the threshold.

"He's there! The Phantom of the Opera!"

"We must find him!"

Erik sighed, sitting up from his seat in his chair.

"If you really must leave then," the sorrow was back in his voice. "Then go. I will not stop you."

He walked away from her, then paused, his voice a low tune.

"Think of me…"

She shivered as she watched him step through the smashed mirror, stepping on the shards as he entered it. With one last despair-filled look at her, he closed the curtain around the secret passage.

She'd never said the words. The tree words he was desperate to hear, she never said. When he'd tell her, she'd smile at him, hold his hand, as if her reciprocal vow was intended. In her mind, she imagined saying the words to him.
"I love you, Little Lotte."

"I love you too, Raoul."

Then, would he force her to go to the formal parties? Would he buy all the latest, uncomfortable fashions for her?

Was that the life that she, honestly, wanted for herself?

Would she still be able to sing in the operas? Would she see her old friends? Or would her music just be a distant memory, a childhood fondness that had no place in her new, posh life?

She urged herself to forget such things, such unfair presumptions. Her life with Raoul would be full of comfort!

When Raoul and herself had spoken of the future, he had spoken of a house where they could raise children together with a low profile. Being an Prima Donna was hardly low profile. And he had spoken of a house far from Paris, far from bad memories or a chance of ever meeting her "strange teacher" again. That would mean a life away from her friends, from the opera…

And what of her strange teacher? She had no idea what would become of him…there was a sinking fear at the back of her mind that he'd…

She didn't want him to die. It was unfair, really, that such an amazing man was shunned because of something so skin deep. But he had such a violent temper!

Raoul…Raoul was safety, Raoul was sweet. Raoul promised things that were not out of the ordinary, Raoul promised a home and a family, a low key life.
He, on the other hand, held only promises of love, of passion, of music…

She cursed herself for even considering that she made the wrong decision! Raoul was waiting for her! She had to go!

And yet, she couldn't bring her feet to move.

They were coming, she could hear them. She had to make a decision, fast!

Raoul was safety. Raoul was no music, friends, or…false friends.

He was passion, music, love. Everything she could not live without.

She blinked. Wait…did that mean she…loved him? Was that what this emotion was, love? How many nights had she lied awake, trying to decide how she felt for him, and in the end it was…love?

Love.

She loved him and he was already gone.

They were coming. Raoul was waiting. He…Erik was gone.

"The Phantom must be found!"

"Through here, quickly!"

Raoul ran out to her, grabbing her.

"Come, Christine, we have to go!" he cried, taking her hand. She stood still, her eyes wide.

"I…"

"Christine, come!"

"I…" She needed to find words. "I can't…" she whispered, her lips barely moving. He stared at her in shock.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, Raoul…I cannot…"

"Christine, I'm not leaving without you!"

"But you must!" she cried, finding her voice. "Go, Raoul, tell them he's gone, or he's dead, or something! Go, Raoul…I'll be fine!"

"Christine…"

"Please, Raoul!" she cried. She saw the hurt look in the young man's eyes. "I'm sorry…"

"What will you do?" he asked, his eyes losing the shine they had displayed earlier.

"Stay," she replied. "I'm going to stay here."

"Will I…" She could see tears in her eyes, and she felt horrible guilt consume her. "Will I see you again?"

"Oh, Raoul, of course!" She cried, embracing the man one final time. "Of course…"

She placed a final kiss to his cheek. He sighed, closing his eyes.

"This is not good bye," she assured him grasping his hands in hers. "I promise you, it's not…"

Raoul attempted a weak smile.

"It's not the end," he told her, tightening his grip on her fingers.

She grinned, and he turned his back.

"He's down here! It's just through this opening!"

Without a wasting another moment, she ran to the mirror and drew back the curtain.

Well. That sucked. Really not pleased with the ending, but hey, it's 12:45 at night, what do you expect, Shakespeare?

Well, it's a one-shot, folks…no more! You'll just have to imagine what happens next for yourselves. Probably much more creative than this.

Till next time