A Finale

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A/N: this is going to be pretty lengthy compared to the other chapters. You have been warned.

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The journey back to the little cluster of houses separated by a tiny forest in the French countryside seemed to drag endlessly on as the two of them observed each little town they passed through. Each time it seemed as if they were drawing nearer than they truly were.

Madame Giry had made it very clear to the driver that he would say nothing about this venture or about his passengers, even to the point where the poor man was too afraid to cast a glance at the couple he was transporting. Antoinette certainly did have her own means of intimidation.

Erik made it abundantly clear to Nadette that he wanted to wait outside of the room before he made his presence known. After all, the letter mentioned nothing about Mariette's son. Nadette in turn made it clear that she wanted to visit her childhood home while they were in the area. Erik had no objections to the prospect and actually found himself looking forward to the visit.

Now he just had to get through seeing his mother.

Nadette had asked him what he planned to do when he saw her. Quite frankly, he didn't know.

He just needed to do this. He had to. He would have no peace otherwise.

Erik suddenly became aware of fingertips brushing against his own. Almost of its own accord, his arm wrapped around Nadette and pulled her close to him. How perfectly she fit there, her head against his shoulder. They were molded from the same clay, the two of them, always part of the same work of art.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" She questioned, "You've been even more silent than usual. Are you getting worried?"

He hummed in response, playing with her fingers almost unconsciously, "I just have no idea what's going to happen when she sees me. What could she possibly want from you?"

"Closure perhaps? The woman is dying, Erik. I wonder if perhaps she thinks this may be the last chance she has for forgiveness." Nadette looked up at the masked man then, continuing gently, "I was angry when her letter came. I know you were too, and you have every right to be. My mother told me always to be brave and kind, that's why she called me Tabitha Nadette, and I promised her I would be. I'm afraid I'm going to have to be kind to your mother as much as I can, Erik."

He studied her then, considering whether or not he could be alright with Nadette's kindness toward the woman who put him through hell.

"You are," he began with a smile, "and have always been a true angel sent here to bring light to the world. I would expect nothing less."

Nadette leaned up to peck him on the lips before glancing out the window, "I'm glad you feel that way. It looks like it's time to see if I can truly accomplish such a feat."

Erik looked too and saw they were going down a worn entrance. Its gate was rusted and hung open, and it's corner drug against the ground. Above the trees, gnarled and dark, loomed the peaks of what Nadette grew up knowing as the sad house.

Erik's stomach began churning, especially after he saw the upper window to his old room, still shattered from that horrid day so many years ago.

"I wonder if she's sent us here on a goose chase. It looks as if it's been abandoned for years." Nadette murmured, fascinated by the state of Erik's old home.

It had been sad before. Now, it was totally dilapidated. Surely his mother could not still live here.

They stepped out of the carriage and the driver, already having been given instructions to return at noon tomorrow, left for the nearest town.

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