I woke up and with great relief, felt the slow rise and fall of Erik's chest. Light was streaming through the window of our home. With even more relief, I realized that Erik had lived through the night. Gisele was still resting in his arms and began to cry.
I took her from his arms as he stirred, and I began to feed Gisele. Madame Giry crept quietly into the room, "How's everyone doing in here?"
"I think we're all okay." The relief I felt made tears well up in my eyes. However, I knew that all was not completely well. Raoul had tried to kill my husband, and I assumed he wouldn't stop until he was dead. I knew I couldn't stand him!
"Caroline, there's someone here to help. Once Erik is awake and Gisele is fed, I'll bring him up."
"Thank you," I whispered, "For everything."
A little while later, a man, that I could only assume was the Daroga, entered the room. Erik was propped up in the bed with me next to him and Gisele in his arms.
"This is a sight I never thought I would see. Congratulations are in order, Erik. May I meet your lovely bride and daughter?"
"Old friend," Erik said weakly, "This is my beautiful wife and savior, Caroline."
"It's a pleasure to meet you," I smiled.
"And you, dear. Who is this beautiful girl?"
"This is our daughter, Gisele."
"I can see she is a lucky little girl. I would love to chat more, but I'm afraid my visit is not simply that of pleasure. Erik and Madame, you must leave this place."
"What?" I asked.
"The Vicomte has made it his new mission in life to destroy you, Erik. He wants to destroy every last trace of you," his eyes wandered to my baby... our baby.
For a moment, the world stood still. Gisele had only been in the world for a handful of hours, and Raoul wanted to take her precious life. Suddenly, I became hyperaware of my world. It had felt like something out of a fairytale, but quickly, I realized this was my reality. My Erik. My baby. My life.
"Then we leave," I spoke.
"And go where?" Erik grimaced as he readjusted his position.
"Can we have a moment?"
The Persian gave me a nod and closed the door on his way out, "Erik, the books I've read about you... the movies... the musicals... You end up not in Paris."
"I don't understand... I thought you said I was supposed to die under the opera house."
"That's what one person believed. Others had hope that you made it out and went on to do more in the world of art and music."
"Where do we go then?"
"America. We can build a normal life there. No one will care about your face. No one will know who you are or about your past. We can live the life that you've dreamed of living."
I didn't realize it, but tears were pouring out of my eyes. His eyes glazed over as they did before when he started speaking in the third person. I stared into his eyes deeply hoping he would snap out of whatever was happening.
"Are you unhappy? Erik doesn't want you to be unhappy. Erik would be better off dead, so Caroline could be happy."
"Erik! God damnit, Erik! I love you! I want to be with you! I want us to get our happily ever after. That's all I want!"
"Erik is sorry," he whispered sheepishly. He began to cry a loud, wailing cry and buried his face into my neck.
I kissed his head as I stroked his hair trying to calm him down, "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled."
The Persian reentered after things had calmed down, and Erik had returned to his usual self, "Daroga, we leave as soon as Caroline has recovered."