Based on Phantom by Susan Kay.

Nadir
~ 1881 ~

"Take her home," I said quietly. "I will deal with all that remains to be done here."

I watched as she took his hand and he took hers. They walked off together in deafening silence, him leading her off toward the boat. I didn't bother to wait for them to depart before I turned and stepped down the hallway. I paused outside the door and took in a deep, shaky breath, afraid of what I would find when I entered the room.

I have lost far too much in my lifetime, and I knew that by stepping into the room, I would be accepting the fact that another person would soon disappear from my life. That the last person I had who cared for me as much as I cared for him was wasting away into nothingness as he took his last breaths, and he would soon retire to the mansions of rest until time indefinite.

I stood in place, reflecting on how much the situation mirrored the day that I lost my darling son. That day was still very fresh and raw in my mind, and everything I felt as I stood outside the bedroom door was far too familiar. The thought of having to face it all again made me want to turn, flip the switch, and step into my friend's torture chamber of mirrors. I wanted to let myself slowly descend into madness until I finally made the decision to hang myself on the iron tree, praying the sweet relief of death would come quickly.

But I couldn't do that. Not yet. Not until he was dead and could not know of the horrors I had inflicted upon myself.

Summoning all the courage I could possibly manage - which, I'll admit, there was not much left of, - I rested my hand on the doorknob and paused again. It took another few moments, but I finally managed to turn the handle and gently nudge the door open. As I stepped into the well-decorated room, my eyes slowly drifted over to the still figure lying on the bed. He was lying just a bit too still for comfort, and instantly felt a lump form in my throat as I began to fear the worst.

I willed myself to take a few paces closer to the bed. As I did so, I inspected my friend closely and heard myself sigh in relief when I noticed the very slight, yet steady rise and fall of his chest. I could tell he was very weak.

Apparently, he must have heard me sigh, because he opened his eyes at that moment and looked up at me. He almost looked as though he were smiling, but his strength was quickly failing him and made it difficult for him to do much of anything. I could feel my breath catch in my throat as I heard in whisper my name. "Yes?" I asked quietly.

"Nadir..." he rasped again, his once beautiful voice barely even audible.

"I'm right here," I replied, taking a step closer to the bed. I was almost afraid that if I moved any nearer, he would disappear and I would lose him forever.

"Come...closer...please," he whispered as he turned his head toward me slightly. He looked so pitiful lying there, mask off, barely able to move. I could tell it wouldn't be much longer by that point.

I looked around the room for a chair that I could move next to the bed, but I saw nothing. I didn't wish to disobey my dying friend's request, so I chose to sit on the side of the mattress. "Yes?" I asked gently.

"I want...I want to thank you," Erik managed to say.

I noticed him attempt to sit up, and I was quick to set both of my hands on his shoulders to prevent him from doing so. "Don't move, don't talk. Please, save your strength," I said, attempting to swallow the lump in my throat. Seeing him in such a weak state absolutely killed me, but I was afraid to leave the room for even a moment to get a breath of fresh air. Not that there was any all the way down there.

"No, just...let me do this," Erik retorted, managing to just barely raise his voice. He sighed then and settled back into his pillow, taking my hand gently in his. "You've done...a lot...for me. I owe you...my life...Nadir. Thank you for...for being my best...friend...and keeping me safe...I still don't know why...you did it."

"Because you're my best friend too, and I wasn't going to let you die," I whispered as tears began to fill my eyes. "I couldn't let you die at the shah's hands."

In all truth, I didn't want to let him die in this way either. But I knew that there wasn't anything I could do to save him at this point, as badly as I wished there were something. He'd had one foot in the grave for a very long time, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the ground opened up and swallowed him. I suppose some part of me still hoped that perhaps he could have outlived me so that I wouldn't have to watch him die, as selfish as that wish was. After all, he had been though even more than I have, and he certainly didn't need to add to that very long list.

"Well...at least you've finally...conceded defeat," Erik said quietly, managing a laugh. It really only sounded like a sudden, sharp exhale of air, but I knew he had meant to laugh, and he would have if he'd still had the strength. "I should have...thanked you...before."

"Shh, stop talking, Erik, you have to save your strength," I continued to protest, wanting to keep him alive as long as I possibly could. I knew it was futile, but still, I insisted on trying.

I could see that he wanted to rebut, but he was growing more and more weak by the minute. He was trying to hang on, I could tell, but it was apparent that he was losing the battle. My heart ached at the sight.

We had talked for about two hours or so after that. I did most of the speaking, as Erik was struggling to do so. I told him of how I met my beautiful Rookheya, and I was about halfway through the story when he reached over to set his hand over mine. I could tell from the look on his face - which was, somehow, even more pale than usual - that he was very near to death.

"Nadir...it's time..." he whispered, his breathing very faint. "Thank you...again...for all you've done."

"Believe me, having you in my life has been my greatest pleasure, my friend," I replied softly as I clasped his cold, bony hand in both of my own warm ones. "Au revoir, mon ami."

I watched as he took in his last breath and gently exhaled. His chest became still after, and I knew then that he was dead. Finally, I allowed my tears to fall from my eyes, blurring my vision as I looked at my friend. He seemed calm. The most calm I'd ever seen him, in fact.

My chest aching from my shattered heart, I stood up from the bed and pulled the sheets over my friend's face before I forced myself to leave the room. I wanted to die right then and there, but as appealing as the torture chamber seemed at that moment, I knew that there were things I must do before I allowed anything to happen to myself.

* * *

It's only Darius and I here at the cemetery this evening. Not a word has been uttered between us nearly the whole day. I'm sure it's because Darius knows how distraught I've been these past few days, and he is careful not to upset me further.

As we watch Erik's coffin be slowly lowered into a deep hole in the corner of the cemetery, Darius steps closer and wraps an arm around me, but he still says nothing. Tears are flooding down my cheeks, but I make no attempt to stop them. After all, Erik was my only friend. Surely, he is worthy of my inconsolable grief.

Oh, Erik. If only there were some way I could have rescued you from your dark mind. Perhaps there is a chance you would still be with me if I managed to do so. I wish I could have saved you.

I turn away as soon as Erik's coffin is settled in the ground. I don't think I can handle watching any longer. I've seen enough, and now all I want to do is go home. Darius says nothing still and turns to follow me.

We get into a cab, and in a barely audible voice, I tell the driver to take us to my flat. As he drives off, I turn my head and gaze out the window, allowing myself one last look at the cemetery.

As much as it pains me, I'm glad that Erik is finally at peace. At long last, he is finally in a position where no one can ever hurt him again - not even himself. That is the most important thing, I remind myself, but it doesn't bring me any comfort.

My parents are dead, my wife is dead, my son is dead, and now my best friend is dead too. What do I have to live for now?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

When we arrive at the apartment, I go straight inside without a word and leave Darius to pay the cab driver. I go directly to my bedroom and undress, carefully putting away my things. Once I change into my night clothes, I push back the sheets draped over my mattress and climb into bed. Immediately, I sink into the soft mattress as I pull the covers over my shoulders and bury my face in my pillow.

Darius comes into my room and gently asks me if I would be inclined to eat something for supper, but I politely reject his offer to make me a meal. I'm not feeling all that hungry. After all, how does one even think about eating after watching their best friend be buried? I cannot fathom it.

Once my servant blows out the candle on my bedside table and steps out of the room, I close my eyes and take in a deep breath. I can feel myself being gently coaxed into a placid sleep - something I have not experienced since before Erik passed away. As I drift off, the only thing I can think of is the fact that Erik could have done so much more with his life. He was a genius man since boyhood, and I wish he would have been given the chance to use his mind for more good. But despite everything wrong he did in his life, there were a great many good things, and that's what I want others to remember. My best friend should be known as more than just the Opera Ghost, and I decide to make it my mission to tell his story.

* * *

Darius
~ Years later ~

It was a cold morning the day after Erik was buried. I remember waking up and immediately going to the kitchen to put on the kettle for coffee. I knew Mister Khan would wake up soon and would be in want of something to warm him up. I wasn't sure whether or not he would want to eat that morning, so I decided to wait until after he had woken up to ask him.

I prepared the coffee, but Mister Khan didn't emerge from his bedroom. I assumed that perhaps it was wise to simply let him sleep, as I knew he hadn't been able to get very much rest since the death of his friend.

An hour passed, and there was still no sign of Mister Khan. I finally decided to get up just to check on him, and quietly stepped into his room. I softly called his name, but I earned no reply, not even a drowsy moan. I stepped closer to the bed and found my master laying still as a mannequin, and I immediately began to fear the worst. A quick check of his pulse confirmed my suspicions.

He had died in his sleep at some point during the night. He must have died from a broken heart. But with all that he'd been through, I can't say that I'm at all surprised. Erik's death simply pushed him over the edge, and his mind and heart could no longer stand the grief he'd been put through. For his sake, I was glad that it was quick and painless, and that he could finally be at peace.