Perhaps he simply wasn't meant to have happiness. Why else would it have taken such a horrible turn? One would've thought he would've learned his lesson at this point.
Madame Giry searched for a while longer before she decided it was best to give up. Christine was her main concern at the moment. She did hope that something would delay Erik and he wouldn't be able to do anything too stupid. She went back the way she came. She hesitated a little, trying to come up with something that she could tell the poor woman. Now wasn't the time to tell her what her husband intended to do, especially not with her current state. She braced herself and entered the room, the relief returning when Christine turned to look as soon as the door opened.
Christine's expression seemed to brighten for that split second before she realized that Antionette was alone. She frowned in concern. "Where is Erik? Could you not find him?" She asked, her voice weak and raspy.
Antionette cursed under her breath and sighed, walking further into the room to perch on the edge of the bed. "I do believe that he's otherwise occupied at the moment. Monsieur Khan seemed rather insistent that he speaks to him." She explained, hating that the lie was necessary and hating that Christine clearly bought it so easily.
Christine nodded and contented herself with a small sigh. "So he'll be here soon, then, right?" she asked softly. It was quite clear that Erik didn't seem to realize that she needed him just as much as he needed her. Perhaps it wasn't as intense for obvious reasons, but it was still there.
Antionette nodded her head and the midwife finally brought the children over to Christine, laying one on her chest and the other two on either side of her. The one on her chest was a boy with Erik's face and the other two were girls. The girls had been lucky enough to escape their brother's fate but that didn't matter and would never matter to Christine. She'd love all of her children equally. This was made clear by the way her expression brightened once more and she immediately stroked the sleeping baby's face gently.
"Are you going to name them, Christine?" Madame Giry asked, breaking the silence after a few minutes. She was curious as to what she had in mind. She carefully picked up one of the girls, cradling her as she rocked her gently.
Christine looked back up at the older woman, smiling faintly. "Only one of them. He already agreed that I could name a boy after my father. We never really discussed girl names so I think it's best that I wait until he comes back. I'm sure he'll have something beautiful in mind." She explained.
Madame Giry could only nod and immediately looked back down at the baby in her arms. She could only hope everything worked out. If not, these poor children would be without a father and she'd have to tell Christine the truth. She could only hope that the woman could find the strength to stick around for their children if worse came to be. She tried to convince herself everything would work out, but her stomach was twisted in so many knots that it was almost amazing. She allowed the silence to linger this time, occasionally giving a hopeful look towards the door whenever she heard the water move. Each time she was disappointed when footsteps didn't follow.
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Erik wasn't sure where he was going and he honestly didn't care. Anywhere was better than the tunnels or the home that he'd come to share with Christine over the last few years. Even if he fully planned on ending it, he didn't wish to taint the children with death while they were so young. Though they wouldn't remember seeing his corpse, he'd feel horrible about it.
He had been almost everywhere in the opera house and outside. He couldn't find a place that appealed to him as a final resting place at all. He had since decided that it didn't matter so long as he could finally have the relief that he so desperately wanted. He came across the dressing room and he slipped inside, locking it behind him. The room was full of nothing but reminders of Christine. It was painful in a way that he welcomed immensely.
He caught his reflection in the mirror and stared blankly for a few moments before his anger overtook him. It was his fault that Christine was gone. If he would've never touched her, she would've never ended up getting pregnant with his little brats. Before he could rein it in, he slammed his fist into the mirror, shattering it. The pain that suddenly burned through his hand was welcomed as well. He slowly pulled his hand back and smirked bitterly, the blood staining his knuckles making the last step click in his mind.
He grabbed her blue off of the chair and bent down to pick up one of the glass shards. He slipped to his knees and held the material to his face, inhaling her scent for a few moments. He wished to remember it for the last of his time on earth. It was oddly soothing even now. He shifted his position and grasped the glass tightly in one hand, rolling up the sleeve of his suit jacket and shirt. He turned his arm over and began dragging the sharp tip across his flesh. The pain was dull and it was exactly what he needed. He repeated the process a couple more times.
When he felt like he'd done enough, he tossed the now bloody shard of glass off to the side and shifted to lay down, curling up on his side. He clutched the cloak to his chest and buried his face in it. "Christine..." He murmured softly, his voice catching. He couldn't wait. Maybe he'd get lucky and he would be able to see her again- after all... he'd been wrong about things before.
