Chapter 1
Angel of Music

The underground of the Opera Populaire, 1871

Erik Destler sat at the large organ in the centre of his underground lair and played as was his daily routine. This was all he did lately. Nothing more… he had nothing else to really care for but his music. Not anymore. Once, he had a purpose… a reason to leave the confines of his prison. A reason to really get up in the morning. Now all that was left was his memories.

Christine… his angel.. the only one he had ever loved. Gone. She had left him. Gone to one who would give her a more happier, carefree, life that was full of light and joy.. and love. He found his fingers kill a note as he thought of that and he stopped playing, a helpless sob leaving his lips. He loved her. He had always loved her. Long before he ever met her even. He had always had dreams of his angel.. the one who would rescue him from his solitude and confinement. He had been so sure it had been Christine. She was perfect. Perfect in every aspect.. every way.

He loved every part of her. Every nuance. Every little gesture of her hands, every little smile, every glint of light that would be captured in her clear brown eyes. He loved her talent, her gentleness, her naivety, her voice…. Her voice… her had loved her from the moment he had heard that angelic voice. So clear and crisp and unique. He loved Christine Daae there was no denying that.. and he always would. No matter what life threw at him, he would always love her, despite all the torture she put him through. He just couldn't hate her… the thought of that sent a frightening chill down his spine. To hate Christine. He couldn't imagine it. Couldn't even contemplate it. There was no possible way he could. His heart wouldn't allow it.

The loss of her however was slowly killing him. It was her that sustained him. She was his life force. Without her, well, he didn't seem to function right. He would wake up every morning praying that he would hear her heavenly voice echoing the walls of the Opera house but to his disdain it never came. And every day he would weep for her. He needed her so badly.. but in truth he had messed everything up. He had destroyed any chance he had had with Christine. What had he been thinking, kidnapping her, trying to kill her fiancé? ‘That's not the way to a woman's heart, Erik' he reprimanded himself. No wonder she had left him. She was frightened of him. He had become so angry at her and that fop of a boy, he had become so blinded by his rage, he hadn't noticed that his love had become jealous obsession. He had forced her to do something against her will.. he had made her cry. By forcing her to love him, he only succeeded in gaining her hatred. He was so stupid…. he was a monster.

He laid his head in his hands and wept profusely for all that he had lost. The love of his life, his opera house, his life's work Don Juan Triumphant, he destroyed it all. He wished he could put everything right. He never wanted for this to happen. None of this was how he had planned it. To top it all off he had been revealed to the world. His face, his disfigured features had been brandished for all to see and they had reacted exactly the way he had feared. Screams of horror and disgust and loathing. He lost any bit of elegance and reverence he had that night. It was only recently that he had managed to regain some of that. He didn't look so deshelved anymore and his face was once again covered by the white porcelin mask, his dark hair once again slicked back. He had regained most of his composure but the tell- tale signs of exhaustion and pain danced in his eyes, which were lined with dark rings from lack of sleep, and were bloodshot and heavy.

He sighed and idly shuffled his remaining music notes and stood up, walking to the edge of the bank. He stared at his reflection in the murky water. This was all he had to keep him company anymore, and it wasn't much. He hated what looked back at him. This loathsome creature. He removed his mask and stared at what looked back at him. The mangled skin on the right side mocked him. This was his curse. This was the one thing which had controlled the course of his life. This… deformity. His reflection was distorted when a stray tear fell from his cheek and splashed into the pool. ‘Big difference' he thought cynically and turned away from it. Suddenly he felt an overwhelming sense of rage build inside him and he grabbed one of the candelabras and threw it against the wall with an agonized wail. He then stumbled forward and fell to his knees in tears that blurred his vision. Sobs consumed his very being as he cried out helplessly for the one person who could make it right again. The one who could save him from his solitude.

“Christine! Oh God, Christine, my angel…. Why did you leave me behind you! Why?... I need you.. I never told you this.. but God I need you…I can't breathe without you… I can't..”

He was cut short by a noise in the distance. He stood and careened his head to listen. Replacing the mask on his tear stained face he grabbed his Punjab and listened again. It had been the sound of splashing water. He silently grabbed his cloak and threw it around his shoulders. It had come from outside the portcullis, that he at least knew. Stepping expertly into his gondola he began rowing out of his lair and along the passage towards the entrance.

The passage ways gave off their usual unearthly green glow that was intensified by the torches that littered the walls. He rowed as silently as was possible along the passage, keeping his Punjab at close proximity in case of an unprecedented attack. Suddenly he slowed when he noticed something at the mouth of the water passage. A figure in the water. He tried to get a closer look as he neared.. and decided that it would be best to leave the gondola where it was and wade the rest of the way. He jumped out of the small boat and walked slowly to the body.

What he found was a small female body, floating face down in the water. He quickly grabbed her and turned her over, searching for any signs of life. But what he saw made him stumble back. The face that looked back at him… was that of his Christine. His sweet Christine. He let out a cry and with tears flowing down his cheeks began to search for her pulse. Finding it faint he picked her up and laid her on her back and began to try and resuscitate her. He hesitated for a moment when it came to breathing air into her lungs but shoved aside the thought reminding himself that he was attempting to save her life. After what seemed like an eternity, Christine took a strained gasp and began coughing up water. Tears of joy and shock flowed down the Phantom's cheeks at the sight of life in her again. She opened her eyes to slits and attempted to speak but Erik placed a gentle gloved fingers to her lips and stroked her pale cheek, with a loving look on his face.

“Shhhhh, my angel…. Do not speak.. Save your strength… Sleep.. I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you…” He doted lovingly and gently lifted her into his arms, as she lost consciousness again. Erik had no idea how or why but for once in his sorry life his prayers had been answered. She had returned to him…. A lot worse for wear to his dismay but returned to him all the same. He didn't know what it was that had willed her to return but she was here.. and as God was his ever constant judge he would take care of her and nurse her back to health. If it took everything he had in him he would not let her slip away. He loved her too much to allow that to happen. He smiled to himself realising that now was his time to continue his role as her Angel of Music.

Chapter 3
The Musings of a Fop

The other side of Paris…..
De Chagny Household

Raoul De Chagny groaned and opened his eyes to slits. His vision was blurred with the mind shattering pain that coursed across his head and he reached up to clutch his splitting skull with a shaky hand. He ran the hand through his sweaty matted hair, stopping when something hot and sticky came in contact with his finger tips. He sat up blearily and removed his hand from his head and squinted at the thick substance on his fingers. After a moment of staring it became clear to him what exactly this substance was. Blood. His blood.

He grabbed a hold of a nearby table and dragged himself shakily to his feet. The room spun as he attempted to regain his sense of direction and balance and he had to grip another piece of furniture to stay on his feet. He glanced around the blurred room. He stumbled forward and stepped on something that cracked beneath his foot. Glass. He looked down at the green glass that had once made up a bottle of some kind. He grunted and continued on his way. He noticed some more of the red substance on the ground near the door. Wasn't his.

Done with this he shivered as the cold winter air stung at his skin through his torn shirt. He remembered… the bitch had tried to fight him. Him! The Vicompte De Chagny! He would show her a world of pain for crossing him! Nobody crossed him and got away with it.. especially not Christine. He scoffed at the name that was the bane of his life. That whiney little musicians child. She was messed up in her head. She still believed in that creature that inhabited the underground vaults of the Opera Populaire. That sorry excuse for a deformed composer! She still believed that his music was good. That it was pure. That it would redeem her to her former glory. What glory!? Christine Daae had no glory. She was nothing but a whoring waste of his time and space. She was his possession. She lived to serve him. To feed him, to clean for him, and to pleasure him when he felt like it without argument.

He laughed as he gazed at himself in the mirror now. His usually brown hair was streaked with blood and for some reason it didn't seem to bother him. He was too involved in his musings to care about his physical condition. Christine Daae. Such a foolish young thing actually believing that she could escape him. She had gotten brave last night. Thought she could stop him. He would admit she had momentarily put him out of commission but now he was back on his feet and ready to make that bitch pay! He wondered where she had gotten to. Probably ran away to that beloved monster of hers. The one who she seemed to have forgotten had caused her so much pain and suffering. The one who tried to kill the one she loved. The one who killed without remorse. The monster. The Opera Ghost. The Phantom of The Opera.

He never understood why she would defend such a beast. What was it that drew her to him. He must have corrupted her mind. Willed her to turn against him. She would never have before challenged Raoul De Chagny. She wouldn't have had the gall. She would know what he would do to her. Give her what she bloody deserved is what. But yet something had changed in her over the past month. She had started singing again… after he had told her not to. She began speaking of the Opera Populaire and writing about it in her diary. He knew. He had read it. He had tried everything in is power to drive it out of her. Even beating it from her didn't work anymore. She steadily grew more resilient to his blows. She would bleed.. and cry out… but it never dampened her spirits. Last night had been the final straw.

He had come in from the pub. He would admit he had consumed quite a marginal amount of liquor and was quiet soused but he was still in his senses enough to know what he was doing. He opened the door had came in and he had heard it. Her. She had been singing. But not just any old song. No. It had been that song. The one about her precious little Phantom. She was disobeying him and he wouldn't stand for it. So he made her pay. And boy did she pay. He didn't think he had ever heard her scream so much in her life. It had been fun. Until of course she decided to fight back. Things went very wrong for him from that point on.

He could only remember it vaguely but she had managed to grab his liquor bottle from him at some point during the struggle and before he knew it she had broken it over his head. After that, it was nothing but a blank. Raoul stared angrily at his reflection in the mirror. She would pay for this insolence. He would find her and she would so definitely pay. Her and her little boy toy. He knew she would go to him but he had to be absolutely sure. This had to be done carefully. A little spying would be in order. They wouldn't suspect a thing when he laid the final stroke.

Chapter 5
Memories

On the other side of Paris…..

The door of the weapons store jingled as the tall, long haired stranger walked into its small, claustrophobic space. The shop stunk of body odour and gun powder and it was a wonder that a man of his position and heritage would be found in such a place. He gazed around the room and saw the scruffy store owner cleaning the barrel of his shot gun. He was an old man, tall and thin with bony fingers that clutched the gun barrel, holding it in an upright position so he could clean out any access gun powder. He snorted gently puffing lightly on the cigar that hung from his lips and humming an off-key tune to himself.

Raoul De Chagny approached the desk, a coy smile on his face as he laid a hand on the desk, in front of the shop keeper. The old scruffy man looked up from where he was and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the unusual figure of The Vicompte in his shop… especially this kind of shop. Raoul smiled at him wickedly and walked slowly up to the desk. He proceeded to take out a wallet and slap a wad of money onto the counter.

The old man stared at the wad of cash wide eyed and slowly set down his gun with shaky hands and acknowledged the well dressed stranger by nodding his head in a respectful fashion. Raoul tapped the desk with his fingers and leaned forward as if to whisper in the man ear.

“I want the best gun you can sell me… and enough bullets for a couple of rounds.. please”

The old man nodded slowly then replied:

“Well.. that's depends what you plan to use it for, Monsieur…”

To kill that worthless good for nothing monster that has my Christine.. was the first thought that ran through the Vicomptes head but he answered in a more friendly manner to the curios shop keep.

“I.. uh… I am going on a hunting trip with my father and I was looking for the best kind of gun to shoot… pheasants with…”

“Ah! Well you'll be needing this then!”

The old man reached under the desk and pulled out a single barrel shotgun and laid it in front of the young Vicompte who eyes now took on a beastly gleam. He ran his nimble fingers along the silver barrel of the gun and nodded, satisfied. This was exactly what he needed to make them pay. And they WOULD pay.. dearly. Nobody stole from Raoul De Chagny… not without paying the price. He pushed the wad of cash towards the man and said with a sly smile crawling up his cheeks:

“I'll take it….”

*****************************************************************************

The underground lair of the Opera Populaire…

Erik and Christine had been singing all evening. They were so wrapped up in their music, they hadn't even noticed how many hours had passed since they had begun. It was just one of the many things they had in common. They were both effected by music in such a big way. Music captivated them.. enthralled them. For Erik, music was the secret sanctuary to his soul.. and for Christine it was her way of escaping the harsh reality of her life with Raoul. Without music she was sure she would have cracked up under the controlling eye of the ever demanding Raoul. The day he had taken her music from her had been the worst day of her life. He had forbidden her one last connection to her Erik. He had taken away all that was Christine Daae. He had broken her resolve and trodden on her heart. Much like she had done to Erik in the past.

She cursed herself for her mistreating of the one man who cherished her more than anything else in his life. Her teacher… The man who made her everything she was. How could she have done that to him? What insanity had driven her to think that Raoul De Chagny had loved her? Erik had told her that he understood completely and that even he had been fooled for a while. That had calmed her guilt for a while, knowing that he had been tricked by his false promises of love and devotion. It still however could not totally kill it completely. A single stray tear fell down her cheek and her voice trailed off.

Erik turned to her questioningly and saw the tears. His fingers fell hard on the keys deadening another note. He flinched. Second time he had done that in two days. How very unprofessional of him. It wasn't like him but then there would good reasons for these mistakes. He slowly lifted his clumsy fingers from the keys and took Christine's hand in his own with a concerned look and tugged it gently, gesturing for her to sit down again. She did so and he lifted her chin to look at him and he saw the watery tears that willed to spill over, dancing in her brown orbs.

“Angel?...”

Christine laughed gently, wiped away the tears on her cheeks and smiled at him.

“Oh.. I-It's nothing… I just got emotional is all… With everything that's happened… and with my memories…”

Erik arched his visible eyebrow.

“Your memories… what memories?”

Christine's smile faltered and she sighed heavily.

“ I don't want to burden you with the past.. it would be a hindrance…”

Erik squeezed her hand in his and she could see the love radiating from his eyes as he said gently.

“You could never be a hindrance to me, mon ange… not ever. You can tell me anything.. you know that”

“I just don't want to remind you of bad times…” said Christine…

Erik cupped her cheek in his hand and met her eyes with his own, in a loving gesture. He smiled gently at her and began to stroke the cheek with his thumb.

“They are no longer bad times… because they are behind us. If you need to talk about them I will always listen. You can tell me. That's what I'm here for. I'm here for you.. as I always have been. Please.. Do not be afraid to tell me things, Christine..”

Christine strained a small smile and began to tell him of what was on her mind:

“I was just remembering the way I treated you in the past. I still feel guilty about how I betrayed you. It baffles me as to how you could still be so close to me after everything I did. I do not deserve all this love you give me. I am not worthy of it. I do not deserve you.”

Erik features shifted to a look of utter disbelief.

“You.. do not deserve.. me?... Oh, my dear, very much on the contrary. It is, I, who does not deserve your love. I cannot help but still think that I forced you into loving me. And to think that I did that to you, well, It is not a nice feeling… but you should not feel guilty for anything that happened back then, Christine. It was my jealous nature that drove you to do what you did. I was so callous and cruel and I frightened you. I did not consider the feelings of you or of those of the people around me. I wanted your love so badly.. I wanted you.. but I couldn't have you. And that drove me slightly mad. After seeing you on the roof with the Vicompte… his proclamation of love… I well… Instead of excepting your choice I tried to make you choose me. And it wasn't a very fair choice. Because well.. when I made you choose between us… either way you would lose…”

He had his head down all the time when he was saying this and only looked up when he was finished. He now saw Christine… with her hand to her mouth, as pale as winter snow with tears falling down her cheeks. She spoke in a quivering voice..

“Y-You… were there…. You heard me agree to marry him?...”

Erik nodded slowly and sadly.

“I was behind the statue of Apollo's Lyre. I heard everything…”

“I'm so sorry…. God, Erik… I'm so very sorry!” she said and buried her head in her hands and wept. Erik immediately pulled her forward into his arms and kissed the top of her head. There she stayed cradled in his arms as he soothed away her guilt.

“No… No… Angel, please don't cry… It is done now… I have forgotten it. Those times have past. It is nothing but a faint memory now. You can't live like this. You must let go of the past. I will admit until you came back I was holding on to it with every ounce of strength in me. But now that you have returned to me.. all that is gone. I have let go and you must too. If you wish to lead a happy life then you must.”

Christine looked up at him with sad eyes and said:

“How?... How do you let go of guilt, Erik.. I don't know how…”

He stood then with a thoughtful look on his face and walked towards the water's edge. She followed him with her eyes as he spoke.

“ Guilt is an emotion I can safely say, I know quite a bit about. Half my life was lived in guilt. Guilt I would never show but that was always there in the back of my mind. Haunting me. The spirits of those I killed. I may have never seemed to show any remorse towards those I killed but in truth, I never got any pleasure in it. I did it because I had to. For self preservation, you see? You ask me.. how do you let it go?.. My initial answer would be: Forget about it.. but there are just some things..”

“-you can never let go of… “ finished Christine.

Erik careened his neck to look back at her and smiled before turning back to the water and looking out across its depths. Its murky depths with contained many unseen horrors.

“Exactly… but you see for you there is forgiveness. Forgiveness is the key to letting go. I could never really let go.. not until you forgave me. Now everything I did is not such a guilt anymore but a distant memory of a bad past. It should be the same for you. I can forgive you.. but you also must learn to forgive yourself.. like I have.”

Christine got to her feet and walked to him slipping her arms around his back and lay her head on his shoulder. He tensed at first but immediately relaxed in her arms after a few seconds, relishing in her touch. He had never gotten so close to her in his life. He couldn't believe how relaxed she was with him. He let out a contented sigh as they stood there with the mist from the lake swirling around their feet. Erik had never been this happy in his life.

“Oh Christine…..” he breathed, clutching her tiny hands in his own nimble pianist fingers and rubbing them gently. She spoke:

“ Thank you so much…”

Erik had his eyes closed now as he spoke.

“For what?”

“For helping me…. And for forgiving me… and most importantly loving me…”

Erik breathed out heavily and turned to her, resting his forehead against her own.

“To help you Christine is an honour… To forgive you, simplicity in itself… and to love you.. but this time have you return it… one of God's greatest gifts. You are a gift of the angels.”

Christine blushed slightly and said:

“And you, monsieur are quite the poet..”

Erik gave her a witty smile.

“Every musician, my love, is a poet.. now.. what would you like to do?”

Christine gave him a questioning look.

“Do…?”

Erik stepped back and began to fidget with his hands. He seemed uncomfortable in what he was about to ask.

“Well… we can't stay down here all the time.. It isn't healthy for you.. Um.. I'm used to it down here.. the lack of light. But you well.. you.. you're not. And I was thinking… we could.. go somewhere.. maybe?”

A smile lifted on Christine's lips.

“Are you asking me on a… date.. Erik?”

He suddenly went very red.

“Well.. uh… yes.. I suppose one could call it that… I didn't want it to come across as imposing..”

Christine was smiling broadly now.

“ No.. not imposing. I'm touched… that you are willing to go outside…among people… for me…despite your fears.”

“ I would do anything to make you happy… and besides.. I feel safe with you. I don't feel as if I have to hide.”

She reached towards him again and took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently.

“I accept.”

And with that she leaned forward and removed the mask from the right side of his face, he immediately went to cover it but she caught his hand in mid air and pulled it and him towards her and gently kissed the marred side of his face. She could hear the breath catch in Erik's throat and pulled back to see the tears falling freely down his face.
“H-How… c-can.. you?.. How can you… do that?” he asked in a choked, highly emotional voice.

Christine reached up and stroked the side that she kissed. He trembled under her touch and more tears drenched her hand.

“It does not frighten me anymore.. I love you Erik.. I love every part of you. Including this.” She said indicating his deformity. “You do not need to hide it from me. Not ever. There is no need for you to hide behind the mask. Not around me. I accept you.. and I accept who you are. I love you Erik. I love you.”

Erik was shaking now with all the emotion he felt from such a simple gesture of affection.

“But…. How can you? After everything…. How can you even bare to look on me in love?”

Christine still held onto his hand as she spoke.

“Because… Because I always have Erik…Ever since the kiss”

Erik eyes went wide and he looked her straight in the eyes, a mixture of confusion and love in his eyes.

“ But.. you left! If you loved me why would you leave?”

“Because I was frightened….”

Erik was extremely confused and more than a little ticked off now.

“Frightened? Of what? I would never have hurt you! You know that! I love you! I would never-!”

Christine was now looking at the ground as she said quietly:

“Not of you….”

The confusion was plaguing Erik's mind now as he tried to work out what it was she was trying to say. If she had loved him back then, then surely she would have stayed. But she didn't. She left him and put him through months of torture. Denied him… and left him for dead. He had forgiven her but this sudden confession had his brain addled.

“If not of me.. then what?...or who..?”

“Of Raoul… he hadn't raised a hand to me at this point but he had a temper beyond reckoning. And I was frightened of him. I still believed he loved me at that point and I felt for him back but after the kiss… well lets say I had never felt that way before. Whenever Raoul kissed me.. it was nice but when I kissed you. The passion.. the love coursing through my veins.. was breathtaking. I loved you from that moment.”

Fresh tears of confusion fell down Erik's cheeks.

“Then why did you go?”

“ Because you told me to… I thought you wanted me to go. Raoul would not have reacted well anyway. I just thought it was for the best. So as much as it hurt to leave.. I did because it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. I knew you loved me but I couldn't bring myself to defy Raoul. I was afraid of how he would react. What he would do…”

Erik had stopped crying at this point and was looking at her, his expression still full of the love he had for her. His aggravation and confusion was gone now and all he could do is love. He moved closer to her again and pulled her into his arms.

“I would have defended you from him… and you were always welcome here. I would never have denied you. There was no need to be afraid. I would have protected you. Just as I am now.”

Christine let out a tearless sob into his chest.

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“I already have… “

He lifted her head to meet his gaze and kissed her passionately on the lips gently spinning her in his arms in the process. She let out a girlish giggle and her set her down with a smile, kissing her forehead.

“ Mademoiselle… does one desire to change for dinner?”

She smiled gently then curtseyed.

“Oui Monsieur!”

He leaned in and kissed her gently again before she ran off to get changed for their meal together. He watched her go into the room and sighed heavily. It was a contented sigh. He the turned back to the lake and reached into his jacket pocket, producing a small velvet box. He opened it to reveal a beautiful silver ring adorned with three white stones. It was a ring he had purchased himself with some money he had put aside from the collections he got from Monsieur Lefevre. His eyes moved up to the bare mannequin that once held the dress he had planned to be Christine's wedding dress. He would have to get her a new one if she excepted his proposal.

He found himself becoming very nervous. In a very short space of time everything he had ever dreamed of was coming true! He smiled happily to himself, bent down and picked up the mask that had fallen to the ground when she had removed it and headed to get changed.

Chapter 7
The Resolution

Erik stood at the beautifully crafted organ that was his prized possession. This organ had gotten him through a lot of tough times. Without it he believed his music wouldn't be as good as it was. This instrument meant a lot to him. More than anyone would ever know. It may have been silly of him to love an inanimate object but he was proud of what he had created. Yes, he had created it with his own bare hands from various materials that he had found around the catacombs of the opera house when he was but a teenager. It had taken him nearly a year to craft it and he ran into a few problems but in the end he created the first beautiful thing in his life. It was from then that music became a big thing in his life. Music was everything to him for a good time.. It still was to think of it. It was through his music that he met the love of his life and it was through music that he had crafted her voice. Made her song take wings to add to her angelic persona.

He ran his fingers along the keys of the magnificent instrument, and smiled to himself at the slight humming noise that emanated about the cavern. For whatever reason he did not know, he felt the strong urge to play and he sat down and stretched his nimble fingers across the keys in his fashion and began to play. What came out was the Overture to Phantom of The Opera. He smiled inwardly to himself remembering how this had been one of the first pieces he had ever written. He had been barely eighteen when he wrote it.. just becoming the man he was today. He wasn't nearly as skilled as he was now but he had managed to write this instrumental. It was this piece that gave his claim to fame as it were. The infamous title of “The Phantom of the Opera”, the merciless ghost who supposedly haunted the Opera Populaire. In truth he was no more than a disfigured composer who was shunned by the world and its cruelties. Who was forced to hide away in the bowls of this theatre in order to survive.

He had left the Opera house only once in his life. When he went to Persia. He had been about nineteen or twenty at that time. It was in Persia that he met Nadir, his good friend and Daroga. The two had not been on good terms to begin with and Nadir had attempted to kill him and vice versa but they managed to sort things out in the end. It was also in Persia he got his beloved cat, Ayesha. She had been his only companion for a very long time. He treasured her company and would have been lost without her but nothing compared to the companionship of another human being. He had longed for one whom would love him ever since he was a boy.

As things were, that love never really came. People just couldn't except him the way he was. In the fair he had been milked for his talents but beaten for everything else. During his five hell –like years there he had shut himself off from the world. He became somewhat emotionless. He was the little boy without a heart. The little who nobody wanted. The child with a devil's face and an angel's song. Not even his own mother would except him. Katherina Destler was a cold, unloving and materialistic woman who was as judgemental as he was deformed. She hated him from the moment she laid eyes on him. She was a young widow with a lot of hate in her heart. His father as far as he knew had died before he was born when Katherina had been 6 months pregnant. She became something of a cynic after the death of the young musician.

He had inherited his fathers musical talents, his voice and an apparent elegance and grace that he had possessed. He inherited nothing but bad traits from HER. Jealousy, Obsession, Cynicism and an unsightly fiery temper. None of these traits he was proud of but in truth they were part of what made up the man he was. He knew Christine would have him no other way and anything that made her love him was completely fine with him. Besides, nobody was perfect.

Except for Christine……

The thought of her sent a chill of pleasure down his spine and he smiled gently to himself. How was it she could make him so happy. Love was that way he supposed. He was in truth the slave of love and all its purest gifts. It was his weakness. His drug. He was love's addict and he didn't care. He loved love and he loved Christine and there was nothing that was going to change that. How could he not love this woman? She was all he lived for. She ruled his world. She was his goddess and he her ever obedient servant. Love's fool was who he was and he didn't care. He was her fool and always would be. He finished the final note and ceased playing. He heard a small sigh and turned slowly in his graceful manner. What he saw caught his breath in his throat and he felt tears sting at the back of his eyes.

There in front of him stood a vision of utter beauty and purity. His angel who was looking so captivating no words could describe how beautiful she truly was. He stood shakily to his face and moved towards her a look of shock and amazement on his features. He stood within a few inches from her now.

“Ange…. May I say.. you look absolutely… stunning tonight”

She smiled sweetly and turned a light shade of crimson. How was it that he could reduce her to the colour of a strawberry with a single compliment? She felt something stir in the pit of her stomach as her reached out and lifted her head to look at him. A shiver of pleasure and love went down her spine as he pressed his lips gently and softly against hers in a tender yet passionate kiss. She moved closer into the kiss and she felt his hand slip gently around her waist rubbing small affectionate circles on the small of her back. His other hand went up and entwined in the loose strands of her hair and she again shuddered in his arms. She reached up and stroked the visible side of his face. He sighed gently and opened his eyes. Turquoise meeting deep brown. He had the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. Deep and meaningful full of the emotion that he portrayed in the music that he wrote. The beautiful, unique music that No one but her and him would ever fully understand.

She pulled back a bit from the kiss and surveyed her handsome lover. He was dressed in an outfit not unlike what he was wearing the night they had first met person to person. The night he had brought her into his world of endless yet beautiful night. The night he had shared with her the splendid gift of The Music of The Night. That was the night she really fell in love with him although she had not really realized it. It was the kiss which had sent her blood racing and her heart yearning for him. How it broke her heart to leave him that night. How she walked away from him she would never know. You don't just share a life shattering kiss like that with someone as special as Erik and just walk away unscathed. They had left an emotional scar on each others hearts that night and little did they know but that kiss had merged their souls and made them one. Destiny had planned it long ago for them. They were soul mates and nothing on earth could change that. Not even if they wanted it to.

Erik had known long before Christine the extremities of their love. He had been the one who had really brought it to the frontline. She had been reluctant and resistant at first but nothing could deny her heart and the love that was lying dormant within her. With that single kiss that flame was lit and any doubts quenched. If only the overpowering fear of Raoul's possessive nature hadn't overridden that and crushed it. That night had been the best and yet the worst night of her life. She had loved and yet lost all at the same time. She knew she had made the wrong choice. She was just so lucky that Erik was as forgiving as he was, or she would have had no idea as what she would have done. He had taken her in with open arms. It was now that she realised how much he did love her. he loved with his whole self. Much more than Raoul could even have imagined of.

Erik kissed the top of her forehead snapping her out of her reverie and she looked up at him with a gentle, content smile. He raised his hand and stroked the side of her face before kissing her tenderly again and moved back not letting go of her hand. She followed him as he led her to where the gondola. He only let go of her hand to reach down and take up his cloak which he swooped around his shoulders in a way that made Christine get a tingly feeling at the pit of her stomach. Everything this man did captivated and enthralled her. He took her hand gently and kissed it gently before moving towards her again. He then produced a long stemmed blood red rose with the trademark black ribbon and handed it to her. She smiled widely at him and said;

“ Oh mon dieu!... What is the occasion , monsieur?”

He beamed at her lovingly and stated.

“You….”

With that he took her hand and helped her into the gondola. She sat and he fetched the gondola pole and stepped in himself and pushed the small boat off across the lake. Tonight was a big night for them both but only Erik knew why. Tonight would change their lives forever.

*****************************************************************************

Raoul de Chagny hid behind on of the huge pillars that made up the huge entrance to the Opera Populaire. The once magnificent building that was lit up every night was now a charred ruin. The windows were all broken and stains of the tremendous fire were evident on their hollow frames. The doors were boarded up and a WARNING barrier was placed at the front. The building was obviously a hazard and by the looks of things to the young Vicompte the large structure was about ready to collapse in on itself. He scoffed. Not like it would be much of a loss. That building had caused him nothing but grief and on top of that it belonged to that damned monster. Maybe if it was finally gone it would take that worthless wretch of an Opera Ghost with it and Christine would have no choice but to come back to him.

He knew it would not be that easy but he couldn't help but wonder. He reached down and ran his thin, callous fingers along the silver barrel of his holstered shotgun and smiled wickedly. One way or the other that shadow hugging monster would pay for his insolence. He had something the Vicompte wanted and as sure as hell he was going to pay dearly for it.

I'll blow his bloody brains out… One carefully placed bullet.. that's all it takes… Just one single bullet.

A noise across from him shook the Vicompte out of his violent musings. He looked up and growled viscously at what he saw. That monster and Christine coming down the ruined steps of the decimated Opera House. He had to fight the rage within himself to stop form running out there and shooting them both stone dead. He was seething. That wench. That whoring waste of space. How dare she do this to him! The anger building inside of him now was enough to make him explode. They would both pay dearly for this insult to him and his family name. To cross a De Chagny is to sleep on a bed of nails. He gave a frustrated grunt and stormed off. He would get them again when the time was right. Now was not that time.

*****************************************************************************

Erik snapped his head around as soon as he heard the noise. He looked left and right before looking back to the face of his Christine. She had a apprehensive look on her face and he couldn't help but squeeze her hand gently to reassure her that everything was fine. Whatever it was, was gone now. Probably just a cat. He took her hand and led her down the steps of the burnt out Opera House not unlike the way he had when he had brought her down to the lair that faithful night almost a year ago now. He was even dressed similarly. She smiled at him as he began to hum the tune to Phantom of The Opera, squeaking girlishly when he lifted her from the bottom step and spun her gently and kissed her.

When he pulled back she had her fingers entwined in his hair and all he could do was smile and kiss her forehead. They were in heaven. All their dreams were coming true all at once and it seemed that nothing could shatter this perfect little dream they were living. There was no interference from the Vicompte and personally Christine was glad. She didn't want to have to deal with him now. He was too much of a over reactor. He always made things worse wherever he was and this, what her and Erik had was not a thing she wanted him involved in. He would destroy it like everything else he had in life. He had broken, beaten and destroyed all that was good in her and left her a timid, flameless shell. It was only now that she was with a man that loved her with everything he had in him that that flame was rekindling. The thought that Raoul could do those things to her.. after all they had been through together. After she had given up her angel for him.. to please him. After she promised to be his forever. She had loved him and he had gone a trod all over her like that. She wouldn't lie that she had been heartbroken. Soon that heartache transformed into full blown hatred for a man who once could make her smile with just one glance. She felt very betrayed. Everything they had was a lie. She still couldn't understand how he could have done the things he did. She suddenly felt a wave of sadness come over her and she couldn't stop the single tear that fell down her cheek.

Erik looked to his beautiful angel now and was taken aback by the sudden sadness that had enveloped her. He felt a lump catch in his throat at the sight of the single tear. It killed him to see her in pain. He felt her pain. When she cried, he cried. When she laughed, his heart soared. They were so very connected it was almost as if they were one person now. He reached out and tenderly wiped the stray tear away with his thumb.

“Ange?” he asked in a small, almost whispered voice “ Are you allright?”

Her head was lowered when she shook it and she began to weep profusely. Erik felt as if he was going to break down himself. The sight of her just standing there so small and helpless, crying so heavily, was breaking his heart. He moved towards her and wrapped his arms around her knowing exactly what it was that had her this way. That Vicompte. He had been waiting for this. He had gone through it himself. The feeling of rejection and worthlessness. The man had broken her heart. She had loved him and he had treated her like a piece of dirt. Erik could understand what that must have done to her. He knew the feeling.. maybe not in the same way but he knew what it felt like to feel betrayed and alone.

It hurt and that fop had done her more damage than she had ever experienced in her life. Christine was not accustomed to that kind of treatment. She was such a delicate little thing who needed to be treated with care and gentleness. Subjecting her to the kind of abuse that Raoul had was like taking a china doll and smashing it on a stone floor. It damaged her. She wasn't able for that kind of aggressiveness. She was wounded physically and emotionally and it would take a lot of tender loving care to restore her to the woman she once was and Erik would dedicate himself to doing just that. He had done it once before. He would do it again. It was his job as her Angel of Music. He protected her, sheltered her and most importantly he gave her the love she deserved. Hw would rebuild her resolve and heal her wounds. It may take a long time but he was dedicated to her. She was worth every second of that time. Besides she was the centre of his universe. She meant the earth, moon and stars to him. He needed her as much as she needed him. They would get through this together. He gently soothed away her tears as he stroked her head and littered light kisses over the top of her head.

“Shhh… My beloved.. It is allright.. I know.. I know it hurts. I know what you are going through… You don't have to worry about him.. I'm here now.. I won't let him hurt you. Not ever. He is your past. There is a future for you…”

With these words he pulled back and looked her straight in the eyes, and got down on one knee and took out the small black velvet box.

“Right here….. Christine Daae… Will you marry me?”

Christine stood looking at him dumbfounded for a moment. She moved her eyes from his face that was twisted into an loving yet worried look and the ring that sparkled brightly like a night star under the dim lights of the lanterns in the cobbled streets. Had Erik just asked her to marry him? She felt the tears spill over onto her cheeks as she let out a little laugh. She couldn't believe it.. her Erik had just proposed to her. She didn't even have to think of the answer.

“Oh Erik! Of course I will Angel!”

With that Erik let out a ecstatic cry and got to his feet and kissed her passionately, spinning her around in the process. When they pulled away they bought had tears flowing down their cheeks and they kissed each other repeatedly before Erik finally moved back to place the ring on her finger. She smiled, still crying and said in almost a whisper.

“Oh Erik.. It's beautiful ..”

Erik smiled gently and stated simply:

“A beautiful ring.. for a beautiful lady… my future bride…”

He said the last few words in a choked voice and she leaned into kiss him again. There lips met gently and they pulled back a bit. They lingered for a moment longer before Christine began to sing.

“ Say you'll share with me
One Love… One Lifetime..
Say The words and I will follow you..
Share each day with me
Each night…Each morning
Anywhere you go
Let me go too…
That's All I Ask Of You….”

Erik's sighed heavily and with a shaky emotional voice continued.

“Say You Love me…”

“Of course I do”

Their voices came together in the reprise in a beautiful harmony as teacher and protégé finally completed the song that until now was always unfinished.

“ Anywhere you go Let me Go Too!
Love me… That's All I Ask Of you!”

There lips met again in a final kiss that sealed the proposal. For the first time in what seemed like an age for both of them they were blissfully happy. Christine was going to be Mrs. Christine Destler and by just saying two simple words would make Erik the happiest man on earth. She knew now she had made the right decision. Erik would love her for eternity. She got butterflies at the thought of growing old in the arms of her beloved. Suddenly her thought turned back to the dream she had… maybe that little girl was truly their daughter. She felt more tears flow at the thought. Their baby… their little girl.

I guess its true what they say, she thought, Dreams really can become reality…