You Alone

DISCLAIMER: See chapter 1.


A/N: Once again, it has taken me too long to update. I hope you guys still are reading this little story of mine.


CHAPTER 10 - Down Once More


There was only one thing Comte de Chagny was able to wrap his mind around. The single thought tormented him day and night, night and day. No matter what he did, he found no peace - the thought kept invading his mind.


She was gone, as was their son. Christine was gone as was Philippe.


The Persian - the person Comte had trusted - had taken them with him. Where to - no one knew. God knows, he had spent more than a reasonable amount of money trying to track them down. He was not exactly surprised, though, by the fact that there was nothing to be found - it was as if all three of them had vanished into the thin air. The Phantom had always had the extraordinary skill to make anything that he wanted to disappear actually disappear.


After four months - the longest months in his whole life - he received a letter. The handwriting belonged to his wife. The note simply told him to stop trying to find them if his life was at any rate dear to him. She also claimed that Philippe was not his son but Erik's. The very thought was quite hilarious to the Comte. As if he would not have noticed if the boy were not de Chagny! On the other hand, it would have made it easier for him to understand certain things about the child and his behaviour.


Sometimes, he amused himself with the very thought. What if Philippe actually was the Phantom's son? How would the child react when he was told this? Most importantly, how would he react when he actually saw his "father"? The very idea that the Phantom might even know how to handle a child of Philippe's age was ridiculous!


What the young Comte failed to realize was that Philippe had already known for quite a while that he was not really his son. In the matter of fact, Philippe had been guessing for some time that his Angel might be a bit more than only an angel. When Monsieur Khan had showed up in his room all those months ago, telling him that his Angel wanted them to go to meet him - face to face - Philippe had been more than willing to leave, especially when his Maman was coming as well.


Philippe had been a bit shy when they had first met his father at his house, where Nadir took them. Hiding behind his mother, he had observed this older, dark-clothed man with his Angel's voice. The white porcelain mask the tall man was wearing covered his face almost completely, and from where he was standing Philippe could not see if he really was smiling - but he could hear the gentle smile in the man's voice. Yet, Maman seemed to trust this man - she seemed to love this dark man.


The man spoke with Maman first before turning his attention to Philippe, kneeling down to his level.
"Bonsoir, Philippe."
Philippe took another step, attempting to hide behind his mother.
"Please, Erik, you must apologize him. It has been a long, long day for the poor child."
"I know, mon ange. You must not worry," the man answered to Maman with a voice more beautiful than any human being should possess. "Philippe?"
"Oui, Monsieur?"
The man's laughter was as rich as his voice. "Please, child, we have known long enough for you to call me by my name. I have a room prepared for you and your Maman upstairs. Would you like to go to sleep?"
After considering about the man's - his Angel's - offer for a moment, Philippe stepped out from behind his mother.
"I would like to ask you some questions first, Angel, if you do not mind."
"I shall answer any question you choose to ask, child - but only one. Tomorrow, you shall have time to ask all the questions you want."
Philippe nodded in agreement, giving the man a small smile.


He let his eyes wonder from his Maman's beautiful yet tired face to the cold-looking mask of his Angel. He really wanted to know why he was wearing that mask - but would it not be awfully rude to ask that? Besides, there was another question - a question that Philippe really needed to have an answer to.


Christine followed her son with her gaze as he slowly closed the distance between him and Erik, and leaned closer to his ear, whispering his question to him so quietly that she could not hear a word of it. Yet, she saw a single, lonely tear slide down Erik's mask as he gave his answer.
"Oui, Philippe. You are correct."
For the surprise of both Christine and Erik, an exited laughter escaped Philippe's lips as he suddenly hugged Erik as tight as he could.


"Come, Philippe, I shall take you to the bed. You shall see Erik again right when you wake up tomorrow," she coaxed when the child did not seem to let the man go even after a few minutes.
"No, Maman! I do not wish to sleep."
"You should do as your Maman tells you, Philippe," Erik answered.
She could hear confusion in his voice. How long had it been since the last time he had been hugged like this by someone else than her? Too long, probably.
"Could you take me to bed, Erik?" the child asked softly.
Her eyes locked with his for the briefest of moments before she nodded her approval.
"As you wish, Philippe," Erik answered before leaving, carrying the child in somewhat awkward way in his arms.


When he returned some minutes later, she immediately wanted to know what Philippe had asked him. Although she already knew the answer, she needed to hear it from his lips.
"He asked if I was his real father," he answered shortly.
Christine simply nodded, watching him sit down in a chair opposite the one she was in.


It was Erik who finally broke the silence between them.
"How was the ride?"
"It was quite nice," she answered softly. "I need to thank you, Erik."
"What for?"
"Everything."


Her voice did not quiver as she delivered her answer, yet her mind was whirling. What was she doing here? Did she really just - leave Raoul like that, without even a note? What if the child she was carrying under her heart was not Erik's but Raoul's?


Uneasily, she lifted her gaze, meeting the eyes of the dark man who was behind all of this. It did not really surprise her to find out that he was watching her intently. Suddenly, she realized that he must have understood what was going on inside her head. She could only hope that he was not as angry as he could have been.
"Erik, I --"
"Do not worry about that, mon ange," he answered, standing up and offering his hand to help her stand up as well. "You shall feel better at morning."
"Do you really wish me to sleep in the same room with Philippe tonight, Erik?" she asked as he began leading her up the stairs.
"I thought you might not feel comfortable about sharing a bed with me."
"I --"
"Besides, Philippe would feel a lot better if he was able to see you first thing tomorrow morning. After all, this is a whole new situation for him as well."
Gathering all her courage, she stopped and waited until the man turned around to face her.
"Erik, I really would not like to sleep alone tonight."


She could see it in his eyes - the very moment he understood what she was saying. Then, after what seemed an eternity to her, he nodded slowly.
"If that is what you wish, my love, I am in no position to deny it from you."
He brushed his lips gently against the back of her hand. As they continued their way up, she could feel his gloved hand on the small of her back, leading her gently towards his bedroom. For some reason, it made her feel safer than she had ever been before.


His soft, beautiful voice surrounding her as he murmured words of love as they finally reached the door leading to the room, was closer to heaven on earth than she could ever have imagined. The feel of him, moving inside her - more perfect than words could ever describe.


Yet, a small voice inside her head would not stop screaming that this was so very wrong. Not even when his skilful fingers brought her over the edge and sent her soaring to the stars she could see from the window.


Later, he watched her sleeping form, allowing himself the smallest of smiles. He would take away any doubt she had - by one way or another.


What he failed to understand was that exactly four months after that day, the young Comte de Chagny lead the former Daroga of Mazandera into his library, knowing that he would finally find out the whereabouts of his wife and son.