a part 2 to the oneshot i wrote for day 4 of coatntails' POTOber writing challenge!

when i wrote the oneshot for day 4 of coatntails' challenge, i always knew i wanted a follow-up and am just now getting to it! reading the original oneshot will make sure you understand it all, but a quick summary if you haven't: this was kay's final lair, nadir and raoul in the torture chamber, but it doesn't end so well as it did in the book. that oneshot was taken from nadir's point of view, but now we'll see erik's view of the aftermath.

sorry for the angst in advance.

~

Erik's hands were shaking as he took a few steps away from Christine. He still couldn't believe that she had looked at his wretched face, touched it ever so gently, and...and kissed him! Something he never imagined he would receive, much less from her! At least he had had enough awareness to return her kiss ever so slightly—as best as he knew how to, that is—but goodness knew he didn't deserve it after all he had done to her. Lied to her, frightened her beyond belief, threatened those she cared for, and now this? Nadir's assumption that he was never anything less than a gentleman had proven false over and over again in such a short period of time.

Oh god. Nadir.

His breath hitched as he remembered his friend and the young Vicomte were still locked in the torture chamber, and he began to register Christine's hand on his arm as she begged him to free them, her voice barely a whisper. He didn't say a word; he merely walked to the wall with the controls to the chamber, shutting it down and leaning against the wall momentarily before he opened the door. He held out a hand to stop Christine when he noticed her step forward; he preferred that she stay out of the chamber, not wanting the lingering heat to affect her at all. He didn't want her to be hurt anymore that night if he could help it.

The Vicomte shuffled out a moment later, tailcoat in hand and looking a bit shocked when he saw Christine. Clearly, he had thought the wicked Phantom had killed her, but Erik had not the heart nor the energy to fight that errored assumption. He simply wanted nothing more than to hide his face, his shame, never to be seen again.

Still, he knew he had to tend to other matters before he could allow himself to wallow in his own self-hatred. He turned his attention to the young boy, instructing him to slip into his coat and ensuring he was in a good enough state to see Christine to safety. The Vicomte's health mattered solely because Christine's wellbeing depended on it, and if it meant his Angel would be cared for, Erik would do anything.

He ensured the boy knew to marry her as soon as possible, but as he secured that promise, he registered that his friend had yet to emerge from the chamber. The realization brought a frown to Erik's face, and he stepped towards the door with the intention of investigating.

"Daroga?" he called before he took a step inside, then caught sight of his friend on the ground, leaning against the mirrored wall with his jacket cast to the side. "Daroga, come and I'll fetch you a drink. It would mean very much if you would stay."

Erik's frown returned when the other man was silent, so he stepped closer and crouched down beside him. "Daroga—" he began as he prodded his friend's shoulder, only to flinch and move to catch him when he suddenly slumped to the side.

"Nadir?" Shuffling forward, Erik collected his friend in his arms, his heart sinking to the ground when he noticed how still Nadir was, how he couldn't see those sharp green eyes...how his chest hadn't risen and fallen even once as he'd been sitting there.

What he thought had happened couldn't have happened. That was impossible, Nadir couldn't be...it simply couldn't have happened, it couldn't have.

"No. No, no, Nadir, please," Erik whispered. He ignored the sting of the tears already starting to blur his vision as he gave his friend a shake. "Please wake up, please, Nadir, please."

Nothing roused him; not another shake, not a few slaps to the face. What had happened was starting to sink in, but it only truly resonated when Erik, hand shaking, moved his fingers to rest on Nadir's neck. The tears that he had been working so hard to hold back finally broke their dam and poured onto his face when he felt no light thump of his friend's pulse against the pads of his finger and he realized what he had done.

He had killed one of the only people who had ever shown him an ounce of care and concern in his life. His friend. His best friend.

"No," Erik whimpered, leaning his forehead against Nadir's shoulder as sobs wracked his body. How many times had he cried on that shoulder? Had Nadir made sure that he'd known they would deal with whatever it was that he was facing and had made sure that he was alright before sending him on his way? All that good he had done, all that care he had shown, and what had Erik done in return? Only killed him in a moment of blind rage, as if their years of friendship and care for each other had meant nothing to him when, in fact, they had meant the world.

He knew in the back of his mind that it was no surprise that the extended period of time spent in the chamber had killed him. Nadir was a man multiple years his senior and was not in the shape and health that he once was all those years in Persia. Those five years in the Mazanderani prison had taken their toll, as had his life in general; the heat and the stress on his body had likely made it swift, but Erik couldn't even take comfort in that. He had been the cause and he would never forgive himself for it.

"I'm sorry," he managed to whisper, though he hiccuped through his words. Nadir couldn't even hear him, but he needed to apologize; his conscience would torture him even more than it already would if he didn't apologize, whether his words were heard or not. "I'm s-so sorry, Nadir, I'm sorry."

He heard footsteps a moment later and instinctively hunched himself over his friend's body, despite knowing that nothing could be done to either harm or help him. Even still, the need to protect him, not to let anyone else touch him was so strong that he was powerless to try to resist it. He only barely looked up when he noticed, just over Nadir's shoulder, a pair of cream shoes just in front of them both, then felt a feather-light touch on his shoulder.

"Erik, I...I don't know what to say," he heard Christine say, her voice soft and shaky.

No surprise there. She had just been witness to what his creation could do, what it could have done to Raoul. He wouldn't expect her to have anything to say, and what words of sympathy were there for a man who had just murdered his best friend?

"W-what can you say? I've killed my only friend," Erik choked out, only holding Nadir tighter to his chest as he sobbed again. Saying the words out loud only made it all too real; he hadn't thought his heart could ache even more, but he had swiftly been proved wrong.

He heard Christine sigh, then lifted his head when he noticed her move, only to be shocked into silence when he found her sitting beside him before she slowly pulled him close so he could rest his head against her chest. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and even more tears, if that were even possible, fell onto Erik's face, dripping from his chin, when he felt her gently stroke his hair. "I really don't know what else to say, Erik, I...I wish I did."

"You should just go, Christine," Erik croaked, sitting up and ever-so-gently laying Nadir's body on the ground, though he kept one hand resting on his friend's chest. "You shouldn't have to bear any more of this."

Another sigh, and Erik's eyes fluttered shut against his tears when he felt Christine press a gentle kiss to his temple. "I'll come back with your invitation. I promise," she said softly.

Within a moment of that remark, Erik was alone in the room, and his sobs resurfaced full force as he curled in on himself, not able to make himself move from his friend's side. It still didn't feel real, and Erik didn't suspect it would set in for a long, long time.

How could it ever, though? How could one ever hope to adjust to having their best friend's blood on their hands?

~~~~~

i really am sorry, i swear