wandering child
05-08-2010, 09:03 AM
OK, I know Erik hardly had a wonderful life. This is based on the movie "It's A Wonderful Life." For those of you who haven't seen it, it's about a man who decides to commit suicide but is stopped by his guardian angel. The man says he wishes he'd never been born, and the angel grants his wish. The man ends up seeing that his life was not worthless, and asks to have his life back, which of course is what happens. That resulted in the plot bnny for this story.
Christine knelt down and prayed desperately. It had been three weeks since she’d left with Raoul, but she hadn’t married him yet. She couldn’t. Her heart belonged to Erik, and she was terribly afraid of what might happen to him without her.
“Please, Lord. Help Erik. Save him from the despair he’s feeling.”
Across town in his flat on the Rue di Rivioli, Nadir was also kneeling down in prayer.
“Allah, watch over and protect my friend. He has suffered so much. If any man on Earth needs your comfort, it is Erik.”
Erik didn’t believe in prayer. The one prayer he’d meant with all his heart, asking, begging, for Christine’s love, had been denied. He did believe in God, but he saw God as cruel and uncaring. What little religious beliefs he had left from Father Mansart, the sermon on suicide being unforgivable and eternally condemning because it was unconfessable, had saved him from suicide more than once. But what did he care if Hell claimed him now? Any suffering there would feel like relief compared to the agony of being without Christine. True he would still be without her there, but suffering of a different kind would at least be a distraction. He looked over the roof of the opera house he had helped build, where he had entombed himself. He was already a corpse. The only thing that kept him from being truly dead was the technicality that he was still breathing and his stubborn heart hadn’t stopped beating yet. It was time to change that. It would be easy. Especially now.
It was Christmas Eve. All of Paris, the whole world for that matter, was enjoying the holiday, the happiest time of the year. knowing the rest of the human race that had never let him be one of them were enjoying themselves today only added to Erik's pain. He would not be able to endure it any longer.
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“Clarence,” Joseph called. “I have a mission for you.”
Clarence hurried over to the other angel, feeling a little in awe of him. Clarence had yet to receive his wings, even though he’d been in Heaven a long time now. He was beginning to feel worried he’d never get them.
‘Yes Joseph?”
“There’s a man down there on Earth who’s thinking of throwing away God’s greatest gift.”
Clarence gasped. ‘He’s going to kill himself? Why?”
“His whole life has been one pain following another,” Joseph said sadly. “All because men refuse to see as God sees. To men, this man Erik appears deformed, so ugly people scream or faint at the sight of him.” He began to show Clarence scenes from Erik’s life, how his mother had never loved him, how cruelly Javert had treated him, how he had almost found happiness with Giovani until Lucianna came. He showed him the years in Persia and how Erik had met Christine, fallen in love with her, and how after all his attempts to win her he’d let her go.
“He’s done such terrible things!” Clarence exclaimed. “And yet he’s capable of such self sacrifice.”
“And not just for Christine,” Joseph reminded him. “Remember the little boy Reza. It was torture for Erik to watch him die, to know that he ended the child’s life, but he knew there was no other way to spare him pain. Reza and Giovani have asked for help for Erik, and Christine as well as Erik’s friend Nadir have been praying for him.”
Clarence nodded, understanding that this was where he came in.
“Be warned though. Erik has little faith,” Joseph told Clarence. “Men can not understand God’s plan for them or how he answers prayers, so Erik believes his prayer will never be answered. After the life he’s had, he believes he’s a mistake God made that he never cared for. He doesn’t understand that his voice, his genious, and most of all his ability to love are all gifts from God.”
Clarence nodded again, and headed to Earth.
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Erik leaned over the edge, just about ready to jump, when out of the corner of his eye he saw a man toppling, close to falling. Quickly Erik grabbed him before he could go over.
“You stupid fool!” Erik yelled. “Were you trying to get yourself killed?” He wasn’t even sure why he had saved him.
“Well, I thought this would be the best way to keep you from jumping,” the strange man said with a smile. “And it looks like I was right, Erik.”
Erik grabbed the man around the throat.
“How did you know my name?”
The strange man smiled again, not at all afraid of Erik. In fact he was trying to be friendly. “I know all about you. I’ve watched your whole life. I’m Clarence, your guardian angel.”
At that Erik burst out laughing and let go of the man’s neck. “My guardian angel. The man who pretended to be the angel of music has a guardian angel? That would explain why my life was so easy all along if I have an angel to protect me.”
“Nobody ever promised anyone an easy life, Erik. And I am an angel. AS2. That’s angel, second class.”
Erik rolled his eyes. “Second class. Yes, that’s the type of angel I would get. You look about like the type of angel I’d get too. No wings, I notice. Although someone who looks like me and pretended to be an angel shouldn’t exactly judge I suppose.”
“I haven’t earned my wings yet. I’m hoping to soon. That’s why I’m here.” Somewhere a bell rang suddenly, and Clarence grinned happily. "Someone just made it. Every time a bell rings, an angel gets their wings."
Erik shook his head in disbelief.
“I’m not exactly in the mood to help an angel earn their wings. I have problems of my own. I haven’t exactly helped anyone ever. Not really.” He sighed. “Everyone would be better off if I were dead. No, they’d be better off if I’d never been born. “
Clarence looked up a moment and mumbled to someone unseen, then nodded. “Now that’s an idea. Showing him that just might work." He looked at the deformed man. "Wish granted, Erik.”
Erik looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve never been born, Erik. You don’t exist.”
Erik shook his head. He didn’t have time to waste on a madman. He didn’t want to kill himself in front of anyone and he didn’t feel like frightening the man away. He could always kill the man, but this man had never harmed him. He was annoying to be sure, but he did not deserve to die. Still, there was the problem of this man knowing too much about him.
"I'm going back home for now. I don't know how you know about me and I'm too tired to care right now, but if you ever tell anyone about me it won't be pleasent."
Clarence looked unconcerned about the threat, and instead warned Erik "You don't have a home to go to. You don't exist. You never built your home by the lake. You never had anything to do with the opera house."
Erik decided he wasn't going to bother playing along anymore. He merely ignored Clarence hoping he'd go away, but as he headed down below the opera house he couldn't find the mechanisms to disarm his alarm system.
"They aren't there, Erik," Clarence told him, obviously knowing what Erik was doing. "How long will it take for you to believe me? There are no alarms because you never existed to install them."
Erik still didn't believe him, but began to question when there was no boat, no house.
"This is some illusion," Erik said. "I know enough about magic to know this isn't real." He studied the area around him, but could find nothing to indicate mirrors or any other device that would make him see something that wasn't there.
"No matter. I'll figure out the illusion eventually. In the mean time I suppose I'll have to spend the night at Nadir's, as much as I hate to ask it of him."
"Nadir Khan never left Persia," Clarence told him. "He still lives there, under the Shah's rule. He's managed to stay in the Shah's favor, but he's never known a taste of freedom. His life has been nothing but misery ever since Reza died. What he's doing can barely be called living."
Shaking his head, Erik told him "If you're going to insist on trying to make me believe I've never been born, then you should get your facts strait. Nadir was forced to leave Persia because he let me escape and lives in relative poverty on what little the Persian government gives him. If I'd never been born his life would be better, not worse."
"His estate in Persia wasn't a substitute for freedom. Believe it or not he was actually much happier in France. And you aren't the only person who's been alone, Erik. Without you, Nadir had no one after Reza died."
"Well if my friendship is so valued, he should be glad to see me when I go to his flat. I'll let him be the one to set you strait."
Erik called for Ayesha, but there was no meow, no glint of light off the diamonds on her collar as she ran to meet him. No answer. Strange. Ayesha always came when called. She must be out hunting. She'd often gone out like that, so Erik wasn't worried yet. He would just come back later and she'd come running up to greet him like always. Maybe by then he'd have solved the riddle of these illusions too.
He began the walk to his friend's home, reaching to tilt his hat over his head to shadow his mask so it was less visable. It was then that he noticed his face felt different. The mask must have fallen off somewhere! He reached to cover his face with his hands instinctively, and what he felt was- normal! There was a nose and as far as he could tell his cheeks and lips were no longer malformed. He felt near his eyes, and found they were no longer sunken.
"Yes, Erik you're not deformed anymore. Since you've never been born, you can't have a deformed face," Clarence told him.
Erik almost laughed for joy, but stopped himself. This was just another part of the trick, to be sure. And yet it felt so real! Feeling overwhelmed, Erik tried to lean against a wall - and as he stepped back he passed strait through it!
Now he was beginning to be frightened! This set of illusions was getting out of hand. He could make people believe they were seeing a wall that wasn't there if he wanted to, but all these illusions put together were adding up to something more than what even he could do. No, it was just a trick. There was no way all of this could be real.
Bolting to Nadir's flat, he was dimmly aware that he should be on the verge of an attack from the stress and the running, but he didn't feel breathless or have numbness in his arm or pain in his chest.
Reaching the flat, Erik ran strait through the door without realizing it. He found a woman and her child there, but no sign of Nadir. And he knew this was the right place. Suddenly he became aware that the woman and child couldn't see him.
"This isn't real. If I can't find Nadir, I'll find Jules."
"Jules is in the poor house Erik," Clarence informed him. Somehow Erik wasn't surprised to see him appear out of nowhere. 'He couldn't afford to raise seven children."
"Nine," Erik corrected him. Clarence shook his head.
"Without the money from you Jules Bernard ended up going broke trying to support his family and was sent to a debter's prison before his youngest two would have been concieved."
Not believing him, Erik rushed to the poor house to see for himself. He passed through the wall easily and saw that Jules was indeed locked in a cell there. He was a mere shadow of the man Erik knew. Erik called his name, but there was no answer. The terrible truth was sinking in.
"I've really never been born."
"That's what I've been telling you all along,' Clarence said, becomming exasperated. "Now do you believe me?"
Erik nodded.
"What became of the people I knew then? My mother?"
"Your mother married Dr. Barye," Clarence told him.
"Ah you see. She was better off."
"No, she wasn't," Clarence told him. "Dr. Barye took charge of her life and she ended giving in to everything he said, losing her independence. She ended up regretting the marraige and realizing too late that she never really loved him."
Erik was surprised at that. He would have imagined she'd be happily married.
"Reza would have lived a little longer."
"Yes, but in severe pain, choking trying to even drink," Clarence corrected. 'He died thirsty, hungry, and in pain."
"What of all those people in Persia I killed?"
"They all still died,' Clarence said sadly. "You killed people the khanum would have had executed regardless. Your never being born wouldn't have saved them."
"Joseph Bouquet must still be alive."
"Yes," Clarence agreed. "Nobody's denying there are people you hurt and killed. But you've done good things with your life too, Erik. Even beyond what you've see so far. Do you realize how much easier you made everything for Charles Garnier? And you helped Marie Perrault find the courage to stand up for herself. Think of how she stood up for you against your mother."
A pang of grief went through Erik as he realized something else.
"Ayesha died, didn't she?" He asked with a sob.
Clarence nodded. "She was killed and eaten while still a kitten because you weren't there to save her."
Erik suddenly realized there was one person Clarence hadn't mentioned. The person he cared about more than anything in the world. The person he had to know was happy and healthy, and had been afraid to ask about.
"Christine. What of Christine?"
Clarence didn't answer. Erik grabbed him roughly.
"What's become of Christine?"
"You won't like it Erik," Clarence warned, looking afraid for the first time.
Erik grabbed him.
"Tell me where she is, Now!"
"She's dead."
Erik shrank back.
"No. You're lying! Christine was the greatest singer the Palas Garnier ever had. The Viscomte de Chagny fell in love with her after hearing her sing. They're getting married soon if they aren't already. Even if I hadn't been there to teach her surely the managers would have recognized her talent eventually."
"Without you teaching her and making sure she was given a chance, and the Vicomte de Chagny never recognized her. Carlotta's cruel remarks and her grief over her father, mixed with her growing doubts in her own talent and disapointment when the Angel of Music never came ended up leading her to leave the opera house. You know what a state Christine was in that first time you pretended to be her angel."
Erik remembered. Christine had broken down crying, believing what Carlotta said about her not being able to sing and asking her father's spirit why he had lied about the angel of music and not simply told her she had no talent. She'd been in the depths of despair that night.
"Her angel of music never sang for her that day, and losing hope she left the operra that night. She ended up on the street, and eventually sucummed to the cold and starvation," Clarence told him sadly.
"But- but her Mama Valarious would never have let her end up on the street. And even if she hadn't been there for Christine, Madame Giry was too kind hearted to turn anyone away, especially a friend of her daughter's."
"Christine never gave Mama Valarious a chance to help her after that night, and even if she would have the thought of her adopted daughter finding glory on the stage kept Mama Valarious going longer than she would have otherwise. She wouldn't have lived long enough to take care of Christine much longer. And Madame Giry depended on those tips the Opera Ghost left for her. She had to feed herself and her daughter, buy what little Meg needed for her balette lessons and costumes. That's not easy on a box keeper's wadges. They were able to survive without you, but they couldn't have fully supported anyone else even if Christine would have gone to them."
Erik sank down in grief, shaking and sobbing. Christine couldn't be dead. She couldn't. There was no light in this dark world without her.
"What kind of angel are you?" He demanded of Clarence. "There are angels in Hell you know! You must come from Hell to show me this."
"Erik I've only done what you wanted," Clarence said, hurt. He had always been extremely softhearted. He'd only meant to show Erik how important his life had been, how important every life was. "You wished you'd never been born, and this is what would be if you'd never lived. You see, your life mattered to so many, Erik. Every life is connected to countless others, whether directly or indirectly. No matter how much someone hides away, no matter what they do. People depended on the coarse your life took Erik."
"Then send me back!" Erik screamed. "I've changed my mind. I don't wish I'd never been born. I want to live again! This can't happen. Things can't turn out this way. Christine has to survive!" He closed his eyes and moaned in pain. "Christine."
"Erik!"
It wasn't Clarence's voice that answered. But how could this be? When Erik opened his eyes he was back on the roof of the opera house, exactly where he'd been before Clarence appeared. And Christine was there, calling to him. Erik turned around slowly, hardly daring to believe she was real after what he'd just experienced. She was there though, looking perfectly fine.
"Erik, come away from the edge, please. I'm afraid you might fall."
He ran to her, nearly pulling her into an embrace. But he stopped himself. She wouldn't want to be touched by him.
"Christine," he said again in a half sob. "You- you're here." Then he collected himself and managed to ask "Why aren't you with your husband?"
"I didn't marry Raoul, Erik. I can't."
"But you love him, and he loves you."
Christine shook her head.
"I love him like a brother, Erik. I just didn't realize it until after we'd left together. I don't love him the way a woman should love the man she wants to marry." She took a breath. "The way I love you."
She reached up towards the mask. Erik had already realized he'd be disfigured again and grabbed her wrist gently to stop her.
"Erik, let me see you. I need to show you that your face doesn't frighten me any longer." Trembling, Erik felt her pull the mask away. He started to cry, but then Christine was there, kissing away his tears.
"It's all right, Erik." She kissed him, and Erik thought he would faint from the pure joy of being kissed by such an angel. Then she held up her hand, showing him she still wore the ring he'd given her.
"If you still want to marry me after all the pain I've caused you, I will marry you gladly, Erik. I've spent a lot of time lately thinking of all you've done for me. You were there for me when I had no hope left, when I was too lost in grief to think of anything else. Everything I have is because of your love for me, Erik. I don't even want to think of what would have happened to me without you."
Erik shivered, knowing exactly what her fate would have been. If he'd done at least that much good in his life, than all that sad times were worth it. He suddenly understood something else. He could have lost this moment. If he'd have jumped, it would have been for nothing. Christine would have come back just in time to see him die. Now instead, Christine was here in his arms whispering "Merry Christmas, Erik." Overwhelming reality sank in. Christine was here! She loved him! Erik was shaking again, but tears of pure joy ran down his deformed face as he whispered reverantly.
"Merry Christmas, Christine."
For the first time in his life, Erik knew hope, knew what it was to be glad he was alive. As he and Christine stood there holding each other, a bell could be heard ringing as clear as the night. Christine grinned.
"That reminds me of an old story my father told me. He used to say that every time a bell rings, an angel gets their wings."
Erik smiled. "I rather like that story."
Silently, he looked up at the sky and thought "Congradulations and Merry Christmas, Clarence. And thank you."
Christine knelt down and prayed desperately. It had been three weeks since she’d left with Raoul, but she hadn’t married him yet. She couldn’t. Her heart belonged to Erik, and she was terribly afraid of what might happen to him without her.
“Please, Lord. Help Erik. Save him from the despair he’s feeling.”
Across town in his flat on the Rue di Rivioli, Nadir was also kneeling down in prayer.
“Allah, watch over and protect my friend. He has suffered so much. If any man on Earth needs your comfort, it is Erik.”
Erik didn’t believe in prayer. The one prayer he’d meant with all his heart, asking, begging, for Christine’s love, had been denied. He did believe in God, but he saw God as cruel and uncaring. What little religious beliefs he had left from Father Mansart, the sermon on suicide being unforgivable and eternally condemning because it was unconfessable, had saved him from suicide more than once. But what did he care if Hell claimed him now? Any suffering there would feel like relief compared to the agony of being without Christine. True he would still be without her there, but suffering of a different kind would at least be a distraction. He looked over the roof of the opera house he had helped build, where he had entombed himself. He was already a corpse. The only thing that kept him from being truly dead was the technicality that he was still breathing and his stubborn heart hadn’t stopped beating yet. It was time to change that. It would be easy. Especially now.
It was Christmas Eve. All of Paris, the whole world for that matter, was enjoying the holiday, the happiest time of the year. knowing the rest of the human race that had never let him be one of them were enjoying themselves today only added to Erik's pain. He would not be able to endure it any longer.
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“Clarence,” Joseph called. “I have a mission for you.”
Clarence hurried over to the other angel, feeling a little in awe of him. Clarence had yet to receive his wings, even though he’d been in Heaven a long time now. He was beginning to feel worried he’d never get them.
‘Yes Joseph?”
“There’s a man down there on Earth who’s thinking of throwing away God’s greatest gift.”
Clarence gasped. ‘He’s going to kill himself? Why?”
“His whole life has been one pain following another,” Joseph said sadly. “All because men refuse to see as God sees. To men, this man Erik appears deformed, so ugly people scream or faint at the sight of him.” He began to show Clarence scenes from Erik’s life, how his mother had never loved him, how cruelly Javert had treated him, how he had almost found happiness with Giovani until Lucianna came. He showed him the years in Persia and how Erik had met Christine, fallen in love with her, and how after all his attempts to win her he’d let her go.
“He’s done such terrible things!” Clarence exclaimed. “And yet he’s capable of such self sacrifice.”
“And not just for Christine,” Joseph reminded him. “Remember the little boy Reza. It was torture for Erik to watch him die, to know that he ended the child’s life, but he knew there was no other way to spare him pain. Reza and Giovani have asked for help for Erik, and Christine as well as Erik’s friend Nadir have been praying for him.”
Clarence nodded, understanding that this was where he came in.
“Be warned though. Erik has little faith,” Joseph told Clarence. “Men can not understand God’s plan for them or how he answers prayers, so Erik believes his prayer will never be answered. After the life he’s had, he believes he’s a mistake God made that he never cared for. He doesn’t understand that his voice, his genious, and most of all his ability to love are all gifts from God.”
Clarence nodded again, and headed to Earth.
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Erik leaned over the edge, just about ready to jump, when out of the corner of his eye he saw a man toppling, close to falling. Quickly Erik grabbed him before he could go over.
“You stupid fool!” Erik yelled. “Were you trying to get yourself killed?” He wasn’t even sure why he had saved him.
“Well, I thought this would be the best way to keep you from jumping,” the strange man said with a smile. “And it looks like I was right, Erik.”
Erik grabbed the man around the throat.
“How did you know my name?”
The strange man smiled again, not at all afraid of Erik. In fact he was trying to be friendly. “I know all about you. I’ve watched your whole life. I’m Clarence, your guardian angel.”
At that Erik burst out laughing and let go of the man’s neck. “My guardian angel. The man who pretended to be the angel of music has a guardian angel? That would explain why my life was so easy all along if I have an angel to protect me.”
“Nobody ever promised anyone an easy life, Erik. And I am an angel. AS2. That’s angel, second class.”
Erik rolled his eyes. “Second class. Yes, that’s the type of angel I would get. You look about like the type of angel I’d get too. No wings, I notice. Although someone who looks like me and pretended to be an angel shouldn’t exactly judge I suppose.”
“I haven’t earned my wings yet. I’m hoping to soon. That’s why I’m here.” Somewhere a bell rang suddenly, and Clarence grinned happily. "Someone just made it. Every time a bell rings, an angel gets their wings."
Erik shook his head in disbelief.
“I’m not exactly in the mood to help an angel earn their wings. I have problems of my own. I haven’t exactly helped anyone ever. Not really.” He sighed. “Everyone would be better off if I were dead. No, they’d be better off if I’d never been born. “
Clarence looked up a moment and mumbled to someone unseen, then nodded. “Now that’s an idea. Showing him that just might work." He looked at the deformed man. "Wish granted, Erik.”
Erik looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve never been born, Erik. You don’t exist.”
Erik shook his head. He didn’t have time to waste on a madman. He didn’t want to kill himself in front of anyone and he didn’t feel like frightening the man away. He could always kill the man, but this man had never harmed him. He was annoying to be sure, but he did not deserve to die. Still, there was the problem of this man knowing too much about him.
"I'm going back home for now. I don't know how you know about me and I'm too tired to care right now, but if you ever tell anyone about me it won't be pleasent."
Clarence looked unconcerned about the threat, and instead warned Erik "You don't have a home to go to. You don't exist. You never built your home by the lake. You never had anything to do with the opera house."
Erik decided he wasn't going to bother playing along anymore. He merely ignored Clarence hoping he'd go away, but as he headed down below the opera house he couldn't find the mechanisms to disarm his alarm system.
"They aren't there, Erik," Clarence told him, obviously knowing what Erik was doing. "How long will it take for you to believe me? There are no alarms because you never existed to install them."
Erik still didn't believe him, but began to question when there was no boat, no house.
"This is some illusion," Erik said. "I know enough about magic to know this isn't real." He studied the area around him, but could find nothing to indicate mirrors or any other device that would make him see something that wasn't there.
"No matter. I'll figure out the illusion eventually. In the mean time I suppose I'll have to spend the night at Nadir's, as much as I hate to ask it of him."
"Nadir Khan never left Persia," Clarence told him. "He still lives there, under the Shah's rule. He's managed to stay in the Shah's favor, but he's never known a taste of freedom. His life has been nothing but misery ever since Reza died. What he's doing can barely be called living."
Shaking his head, Erik told him "If you're going to insist on trying to make me believe I've never been born, then you should get your facts strait. Nadir was forced to leave Persia because he let me escape and lives in relative poverty on what little the Persian government gives him. If I'd never been born his life would be better, not worse."
"His estate in Persia wasn't a substitute for freedom. Believe it or not he was actually much happier in France. And you aren't the only person who's been alone, Erik. Without you, Nadir had no one after Reza died."
"Well if my friendship is so valued, he should be glad to see me when I go to his flat. I'll let him be the one to set you strait."
Erik called for Ayesha, but there was no meow, no glint of light off the diamonds on her collar as she ran to meet him. No answer. Strange. Ayesha always came when called. She must be out hunting. She'd often gone out like that, so Erik wasn't worried yet. He would just come back later and she'd come running up to greet him like always. Maybe by then he'd have solved the riddle of these illusions too.
He began the walk to his friend's home, reaching to tilt his hat over his head to shadow his mask so it was less visable. It was then that he noticed his face felt different. The mask must have fallen off somewhere! He reached to cover his face with his hands instinctively, and what he felt was- normal! There was a nose and as far as he could tell his cheeks and lips were no longer malformed. He felt near his eyes, and found they were no longer sunken.
"Yes, Erik you're not deformed anymore. Since you've never been born, you can't have a deformed face," Clarence told him.
Erik almost laughed for joy, but stopped himself. This was just another part of the trick, to be sure. And yet it felt so real! Feeling overwhelmed, Erik tried to lean against a wall - and as he stepped back he passed strait through it!
Now he was beginning to be frightened! This set of illusions was getting out of hand. He could make people believe they were seeing a wall that wasn't there if he wanted to, but all these illusions put together were adding up to something more than what even he could do. No, it was just a trick. There was no way all of this could be real.
Bolting to Nadir's flat, he was dimmly aware that he should be on the verge of an attack from the stress and the running, but he didn't feel breathless or have numbness in his arm or pain in his chest.
Reaching the flat, Erik ran strait through the door without realizing it. He found a woman and her child there, but no sign of Nadir. And he knew this was the right place. Suddenly he became aware that the woman and child couldn't see him.
"This isn't real. If I can't find Nadir, I'll find Jules."
"Jules is in the poor house Erik," Clarence informed him. Somehow Erik wasn't surprised to see him appear out of nowhere. 'He couldn't afford to raise seven children."
"Nine," Erik corrected him. Clarence shook his head.
"Without the money from you Jules Bernard ended up going broke trying to support his family and was sent to a debter's prison before his youngest two would have been concieved."
Not believing him, Erik rushed to the poor house to see for himself. He passed through the wall easily and saw that Jules was indeed locked in a cell there. He was a mere shadow of the man Erik knew. Erik called his name, but there was no answer. The terrible truth was sinking in.
"I've really never been born."
"That's what I've been telling you all along,' Clarence said, becomming exasperated. "Now do you believe me?"
Erik nodded.
"What became of the people I knew then? My mother?"
"Your mother married Dr. Barye," Clarence told him.
"Ah you see. She was better off."
"No, she wasn't," Clarence told him. "Dr. Barye took charge of her life and she ended giving in to everything he said, losing her independence. She ended up regretting the marraige and realizing too late that she never really loved him."
Erik was surprised at that. He would have imagined she'd be happily married.
"Reza would have lived a little longer."
"Yes, but in severe pain, choking trying to even drink," Clarence corrected. 'He died thirsty, hungry, and in pain."
"What of all those people in Persia I killed?"
"They all still died,' Clarence said sadly. "You killed people the khanum would have had executed regardless. Your never being born wouldn't have saved them."
"Joseph Bouquet must still be alive."
"Yes," Clarence agreed. "Nobody's denying there are people you hurt and killed. But you've done good things with your life too, Erik. Even beyond what you've see so far. Do you realize how much easier you made everything for Charles Garnier? And you helped Marie Perrault find the courage to stand up for herself. Think of how she stood up for you against your mother."
A pang of grief went through Erik as he realized something else.
"Ayesha died, didn't she?" He asked with a sob.
Clarence nodded. "She was killed and eaten while still a kitten because you weren't there to save her."
Erik suddenly realized there was one person Clarence hadn't mentioned. The person he cared about more than anything in the world. The person he had to know was happy and healthy, and had been afraid to ask about.
"Christine. What of Christine?"
Clarence didn't answer. Erik grabbed him roughly.
"What's become of Christine?"
"You won't like it Erik," Clarence warned, looking afraid for the first time.
Erik grabbed him.
"Tell me where she is, Now!"
"She's dead."
Erik shrank back.
"No. You're lying! Christine was the greatest singer the Palas Garnier ever had. The Viscomte de Chagny fell in love with her after hearing her sing. They're getting married soon if they aren't already. Even if I hadn't been there to teach her surely the managers would have recognized her talent eventually."
"Without you teaching her and making sure she was given a chance, and the Vicomte de Chagny never recognized her. Carlotta's cruel remarks and her grief over her father, mixed with her growing doubts in her own talent and disapointment when the Angel of Music never came ended up leading her to leave the opera house. You know what a state Christine was in that first time you pretended to be her angel."
Erik remembered. Christine had broken down crying, believing what Carlotta said about her not being able to sing and asking her father's spirit why he had lied about the angel of music and not simply told her she had no talent. She'd been in the depths of despair that night.
"Her angel of music never sang for her that day, and losing hope she left the operra that night. She ended up on the street, and eventually sucummed to the cold and starvation," Clarence told him sadly.
"But- but her Mama Valarious would never have let her end up on the street. And even if she hadn't been there for Christine, Madame Giry was too kind hearted to turn anyone away, especially a friend of her daughter's."
"Christine never gave Mama Valarious a chance to help her after that night, and even if she would have the thought of her adopted daughter finding glory on the stage kept Mama Valarious going longer than she would have otherwise. She wouldn't have lived long enough to take care of Christine much longer. And Madame Giry depended on those tips the Opera Ghost left for her. She had to feed herself and her daughter, buy what little Meg needed for her balette lessons and costumes. That's not easy on a box keeper's wadges. They were able to survive without you, but they couldn't have fully supported anyone else even if Christine would have gone to them."
Erik sank down in grief, shaking and sobbing. Christine couldn't be dead. She couldn't. There was no light in this dark world without her.
"What kind of angel are you?" He demanded of Clarence. "There are angels in Hell you know! You must come from Hell to show me this."
"Erik I've only done what you wanted," Clarence said, hurt. He had always been extremely softhearted. He'd only meant to show Erik how important his life had been, how important every life was. "You wished you'd never been born, and this is what would be if you'd never lived. You see, your life mattered to so many, Erik. Every life is connected to countless others, whether directly or indirectly. No matter how much someone hides away, no matter what they do. People depended on the coarse your life took Erik."
"Then send me back!" Erik screamed. "I've changed my mind. I don't wish I'd never been born. I want to live again! This can't happen. Things can't turn out this way. Christine has to survive!" He closed his eyes and moaned in pain. "Christine."
"Erik!"
It wasn't Clarence's voice that answered. But how could this be? When Erik opened his eyes he was back on the roof of the opera house, exactly where he'd been before Clarence appeared. And Christine was there, calling to him. Erik turned around slowly, hardly daring to believe she was real after what he'd just experienced. She was there though, looking perfectly fine.
"Erik, come away from the edge, please. I'm afraid you might fall."
He ran to her, nearly pulling her into an embrace. But he stopped himself. She wouldn't want to be touched by him.
"Christine," he said again in a half sob. "You- you're here." Then he collected himself and managed to ask "Why aren't you with your husband?"
"I didn't marry Raoul, Erik. I can't."
"But you love him, and he loves you."
Christine shook her head.
"I love him like a brother, Erik. I just didn't realize it until after we'd left together. I don't love him the way a woman should love the man she wants to marry." She took a breath. "The way I love you."
She reached up towards the mask. Erik had already realized he'd be disfigured again and grabbed her wrist gently to stop her.
"Erik, let me see you. I need to show you that your face doesn't frighten me any longer." Trembling, Erik felt her pull the mask away. He started to cry, but then Christine was there, kissing away his tears.
"It's all right, Erik." She kissed him, and Erik thought he would faint from the pure joy of being kissed by such an angel. Then she held up her hand, showing him she still wore the ring he'd given her.
"If you still want to marry me after all the pain I've caused you, I will marry you gladly, Erik. I've spent a lot of time lately thinking of all you've done for me. You were there for me when I had no hope left, when I was too lost in grief to think of anything else. Everything I have is because of your love for me, Erik. I don't even want to think of what would have happened to me without you."
Erik shivered, knowing exactly what her fate would have been. If he'd done at least that much good in his life, than all that sad times were worth it. He suddenly understood something else. He could have lost this moment. If he'd have jumped, it would have been for nothing. Christine would have come back just in time to see him die. Now instead, Christine was here in his arms whispering "Merry Christmas, Erik." Overwhelming reality sank in. Christine was here! She loved him! Erik was shaking again, but tears of pure joy ran down his deformed face as he whispered reverantly.
"Merry Christmas, Christine."
For the first time in his life, Erik knew hope, knew what it was to be glad he was alive. As he and Christine stood there holding each other, a bell could be heard ringing as clear as the night. Christine grinned.
"That reminds me of an old story my father told me. He used to say that every time a bell rings, an angel gets their wings."
Erik smiled. "I rather like that story."
Silently, he looked up at the sky and thought "Congradulations and Merry Christmas, Clarence. And thank you."