#aftertheperformance

(I’m fairly certain this was started with someone here...but I’ve continued it.) The full thing will be linked on my main page too.)

After her performance, her child was no where to be found and when they finally found her on the pier, everything happened so very quickly. They had reached the pier and noticed in horror how Meg was holding Lotte in her grasp, a gun pointed at her head. As if on instinct, Christine had wanted to run to her daughter, but Erik had stopped her. Things seemed to turn out for the best when Meg released the child and the girl came running into her arms. But then, suddenly, there was a horrible gunshot and only seconds later Christine left the agonizing pain of the bullet entering her body. The young mother gasped in pain and grasped her chest as she struggled to stay on her feet. She felt weaker and weaker with every moment that went by and before she knew it, she heard herself beg for Erik to kiss her one last time…

Christine stood at Erik’s bedside and stared down at him, hot tears falling down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry…” she whispered even though she knew that Erik wouldn’t be able to hear her. “I love you…”

Lotte was with Erik now, and she struggled to call him Papa, so she sat down on the floor that night by her bed and began to pray. “Please help me to trust and call Monsieur Erik Papa. I know he’s mine now, but I don’t know what else to think. I just want my Maman back she would know what to do.” with that Lotte climbed back into her bed and pulled up the covers. Before she closed her eyes she saw a shadow move in the corner of her room, making her more alert than she had been previously.

Wiping her tears away, she placed a gentle kiss to his forehead and then turned and left his bedroom. Even though she knew that neither Erik nor Lotte could see or hear her, she made sure to make no sound as she walked over to her little angel’s bedroom. And there she stood in the doorway of Lotte’s room, silently watching her pray. How badly she wanted to go to her and hold her close to her, but Christine knew that she would never be able to do that again. She would never feel her child close to her again and wouldn’t get to see her grow up. Tears shot to her eyes as she realized that the time she was allowed to spend with her daughter was over….

Lotte looked around her room and saw the figure at the door. “Maman?” the six year old called out. “Maman….Are you here, I’m so scared.” she cried into the air. Charlotte had also done quite a bit of walking and attempted running that her foot had started to bother her. In a fit of pain she threw back her covers, her face squished tight and rubbed various places on her little foot as best she could knowing that her Mothers touch was the only one who could truly ease the pain. Lotte began to cry silently. “Maman…please come back….”

Christine hurried over to her angel’s bedside and sat down beside her, wrapping her arms around her. “Shhh,…” she whispered, placing a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “I’m here, Lotte…” she assured even thought she knew she wouldn’t hear her. “Oh, angel, I’m sorry..”

"Maman!?" she reached out her hand to touch her. She was here beside her holding her close, well sort of, she didn’t understand how this was possible. "But Maman how are you here? Aunt Meg shot you…we put you in the ground today…I don’t….how?!" Lotte was confused to say the least. 

How was she to explain if she didn’t understand it herself? “I know, darling…” she nodded “I’m here to watch after you and your papa….” If she wasn honest, she was a bit surprised that her child could see her, but at the same time she was relieved. “I can’t leave you yet….”

 "You’re gonna stay?" she looked up at her mother. "I don’t want you to leave me either. I need to go tell Papa that you’re here!"

"I’ll stay here for as long as you need me," she vowed. But then, her smile slowly faded away as Lotte mentioned her father. "No, darling… " she shook her head "You’re the only one who can see me. It’s best for him if he doesn’t know."

"But how am I supposed to keep you a secret Mama?" She curled back up under the covers. "And is it wrong that I still can’t call him Papa? Not really….its so different." 

“All you have to do is know that I am here, and it will take time, but I believe you will find the strength in yourself to call him what he truly is to you. He is struggling just as you are petite. Why don’t you snuggle under the covers and I will sing you to sleep, and the pain away so that you wake well rested in the morning.”

 Lotte drifted off into her dreams of dancing where she would no longer be disfigured and accomplish much on the stage where her mother performed. Christine sat and watched her daughter sleep for a while, satisfied that she wouldn’t wake again she moved along Eriks home, finding him over his piano asleep, no he was still awake. Just brooding. He didn’t see her, or feel her sit on the bench beside him. She took a look at the music on the stand. It was untitled, but the notes were familiar. This was the first song he had written for her.

 He had heard Charlotte’s cries, but she had settled down enough that he figured that she simply cried herself back to sleep. That was a terrible thought. He shook his head. “I can’t be the father she needs if I ignore her.”

 Christine wrapped her arms around him and he shivered at the sudden cold. She pulled away from him as he started to look around the room for what ever it was that gave the chill.

 “I know, I’ll build her something for her leg, something that will allow her to aid her mobility and strengthen the correct muscles. It’s the least I can do for my child…its my fault she has the problem in the first place” he huffed and went to his workshop. Erik never slept. If he did it wasn’t long. Erik worked into the early hours of the morning only stopping when it came to sizing it correctly. Charlotte would need to be awake for that.

Padding to her new room Erik cracked open the door, only to find his daughter with a book in her hands. Her strawberry blonde ringlets hung down mid back, as she leaned forward studying the book in front of her. He cleared his throat and her piercing mismatched eyes looked at him, offering a smile.

 “Good morning, I – I found this in the steamer trunk at the end of the bed. Did these things belong to Maman?” She gestured to the book and loose papers. “I hope you aren’t upset for my curiosity. I was often told it would get me into trouble.”

 “I’m not upset petite. – and yes they were your mothers, she kept many journals at the opera in paris. Most every gift from myself to her is in that trunk too. I think she would like you to read of her journey from Sweden with your Grandfather Gustave. To her moving to the Opera House and meeting myself.” He thought of the memories held in her books. “But enough for now. I’ve been unable to sleep and I want to help you like I’ve helped some of my employees. – are you able to walk this morning?” Erik asked her gently.

 Charlotte bit her lip and moved the covers off her legs. “It’s stiff this morning. Maman used to rub the muscles for me, I’m afraid my little fingers aren’t strong enough to do any good.” She looked down at the mangled limb.

 Erik moved her robe and nightgown up her right leg and Charlotte tucked it up around her thigh like a pair of short trousers to keep her modesty. He started at her ankle working from the bottom up, and back down again. He told Charlotte a story to fill the silence, of a young ballerina who missed her father and how the angel of music was sent to her. Of course Charlotte had already heard this story only slightly different from the way her mother once told her.