Phantom of the Opera 1. Leaving

**Guess who decided to write another fic? If you guessed Erik, you are very close, but oh so far! Me! Erik shall help me commentate this bad boy, but, as he did in the Love's Music.....give away my whole plot line! Most of you people were going to say....I'm not going to say anything in case you have never read my first fic. READ IT! This story is called Red Rose Thorns and I hope you all love it because I shall have a great time writing it and Erik shall have a great time talking about it!**

**Erik: I will?**

**Me: Yes, you will. Isn't that what I'm paying you for?**

**Erik: You aren't paying me anything!**

**Me: Right....ignore him! Oh crap, Punjab lasso! R&R and I'll being seeing you at the bottom of the page if I'm not dead!**

**Red Rose Thorns**

Christine paced back and forth in the parlor; a little bundle lay in her arms, restless and hungry.

"Be still, Little One, be still. The carriage shall be here shortly and we can leave. I promise he won't ever hurt you again." she smiled sadly at her child and gently brushed the bruise that was forming over her daughter's disfigured forehead.

Her baby didn't have a name yet, even though she was nearly 2 weeks old, but Christine wanted her real father to name her. Her real father had supposedly died 6 months ago and how it broke her heart! Christine refused to leave her room for days and if she did, it was only to use the bathroom.

Christine knew from the beginning that the child was Erik's. She knew she would have to tell Raoul eventually, but she was too afraid.

Soon after "rescuing" her from Erik, Raoul had begun to drink. At first Christine thought nothing of it; what could a glass of brandy after dinner do? But, within a few weeks, it turned from one glass to 2 to 3 to a bottle and to 2 or 3 bottles a night. And how it frightened her when he would get drunk and angry. She still remembered the night when he first beat her; it was also the night he found out she was pregnant.

"_Raoul, darling, don't you think 4 glasses are enough? Besides, I didn't think you liked alcohol?" she asked one, cold, rainy night. They had just gotten back from evening Mass and he was already hitting the bottle. _

_Raoul turned to glare at his wife. How dare she tell him what to do? She was a woman and he was the man! Throwing the glass into the fire, he was quickly at Christine's chair in the small bedroom that the two shared. _

"_You will listen and listen good: I do what I want and if being in a stupor all day is what I want, then I'll have it!" he yelled and punched her face._

_Christine tumbled out of the chair and onto the menacing wood floor. He had punched her. **Punched** her! Where had her sweet and darling Raoul gone to? He, who promised love, safety, comfort, luxury, was hitting her._

"_I-I'm sorry, Raoul. I didn't mean-" Christine started, but broke off as his foot hit her stomach. The pain was horrible and, for some reason, she knew that there was still more to come. Receiving another blow to her small stomach, Christine covered it with her arms, trying to protect the precious life she knew grew inside her._

"_Remove your hands, my dear, or else something even worse may occur." _

_Shaking her head furiously, Christine only clung tighter to her torso and thankfully accepted his kicks to her arms. "At least its not hitting my baby. **His** baby. But, please God, make him stop! Please bring back my Raoul! Please, please, please!" she prayed. It was all she could do as his fists and feet kept hitting her and never once gave a hint to when the torture would stop._

_Eventually, Raoul's kicks became lighter and lighter and a few minutes later they had ceased. Finally looking up at him, Christine saw regret shining in his eyes._

"_Christine?" he whimpered. What had he done? How could he beat her like this? Was he becoming...a monster? Reaching out to touch her arm, Raoul was horrified that Christine flinched. '_

"_Darling, I'm sorry. Please, forgive me."_

"_No." was her simple answer. _

"_Why? I never meant to hurt you like this-"_

"_But you did. You hurt me and m-" she broke off, fearing that his temper would flare if she told him. Raoul was curious now; what else had he hurt? Gently stroking her brown curls and slowly moving down to trace her cheekbones, which were covered in blood because he had kicked her nose in his blind rage._

"_You'll find out soon enough what else you hurt. Now, if you'll kindly excuse me, Monsieur, I wish to sleep in my own room." she replied firmly, but was also afraid that her words might also upset him again. Raoul was now really mad. She refused to tell him and now she wanted her own room! Keeping up the calm, gentle facade, Raoul slowly moved his hand back into her curls and, in one quick movement, clutched them in his fist and pulled her up from the floor._

"_You shall tell me what I hurt now, or I will hit you again, Little Lotte." he hissed. Christine cried out in pain._

"_Fine! I'll tell you, but please, let me go. I promise I'll tell you every little thing you wish to know." she cried. Releasing her hair, Raoul laughed wickedly as he watched his wife crumple to the ground in a crying heap._

"_Good girl. I knew you would tell me."_

_Gathering up her strength and courage, she prayed one last time, but not to God, but to her angel. 'Wherever you are, help me tell him and help me put up with whatever beating he has in store. I'm sorry, Erik'_

"_Raoul, I'm pregnant."_

Everything past that point was a blur. The 9 months she was pregnant were Hell on Earth, but she gladly accepted them. All Christine had cared about was the little baby growing inside of her and that her true father was not a beating drunkard. That was another reason she accepted those painful 9 months: Erik.

What a fool she'd been when she left him! She knew she loved him from the very beginning and she never regretted the day they joined together and created their darling daughter.

_Erik sat at his bench in front of the organ as Christine sang. It had been a few weeks after she'd performed "Hannibal" and she loved being down in her Angel's lair. It was different, but beautiful at the same time; every little detail showed his true genius._

_Chancing a quick glance at him, Christine noticed the Angel's eyes were closed as he swayed back and forth to the beautiful music the two created. For once, he seemed happy. Usually the Angel was moody and, at times, his temper would scare her enough that she'd run to her room, but, today, he was peaceful and his temper was no where in site. _

_After the short piece, Christine sat on the bench next to him, wanting to ask a question she was dying to have an answer for._

"_Angel, do...you-I mean...if you have one-but do...." she stumbled. For some reason, she was nervous about asking him the simple question. 'What a silly idea! He would never get angry at me for asking him such a simple question.'_

_Hearing a small noise coming from somewhere close, she looked up and saw her Angel laughing! It was a beautiful, deep laugh and it made her giggle too._

"_What do you wish to ask, my dear?" he asked a few minutes after the two had burst into full fledged laughter._

_Lowering her head, Christine mumbled, "What is your name?"_

"_Is that all you wanted to know?" she nodded in response; her face blushing a deep crimson in embarrassment. She felt a finger underneath her chin and she let her Angel tip her head up to meet his masked gaze. Why did he have to wear that thing all the time? She knew what lay underneath, a memory Christine wished she could forget, and it honestly didn't bother her._

_His golden eyes bored into her wide brown ones as he gently replied,_

"_Erik." _

"_Erik?"_

"_Yes, thats my name, my dear. Now, I do believe that it is time for you to go to bed." he smiled again and held out his hand. Christine still marveled at how graceful her An-Erik, was; even holding his hand out for her to take held power and grace. Taking his hand quietly, she followed Erik into her room where she quickly changed into a thin nightgown and called for him to come back._

"_Is everything alright?" he asked when he entered her room; his face turning a deep red at the sight of her only in a thin piece of fabric._

"_Everything is perfect, but would you come here and sit with me? At least until I fall asleep." she patted the space where she wanted him to sit; it was extremely close to her. Stumbling over to her, Erik sat lightly on the bed and hesitantly took her hand in his._

_Christine wasn't sure what emotion was controlling her, but before she could stop herself, her lips met his in a gentle, yet demanding, kiss. Looking up into his eyes, Christine saw shock pass through his eyes and...fear? Was he afraid of her?_

_Carefully pulling out of the kiss, she saw what she thought looked like tears entering his eyes._

"_C-Christine?" a tear escaped down his cheek. She quickly moved her hand to wipe away the stray tear, but his hand firmly held her wrist. _

"_Erik, I love you." she whispered. She knew this was the real thing! She'd been with a few sweethearts, but nothing could compare to this. The kiss had awakened her deep love she had always felt for her Angel and for her Erik. Christine felt his hot tears against her skin and wondered why he was crying. 'Why is he crying at such simple words? Unless....'_

"_My poor Erik. You don't have to be lonely any longer." she smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist. She felt Erik tense at the contact, but soon relaxed and he gently put one arm around her shoulder and the other around her petite middle._

"_Oh, Christine. You have no idea. I've been alone for so long. I love you so much, ma muse." he cried into her curls. Looking back up at his face, she slowly moved one arm from his waist up to his mask._

"_Can I?"_

_Erik only nodded as she took off the piece of porcelain that covered his right cheek. Quickly searching her face for fear or disgust, Christine heard his sigh of relief; his lips hovering above hers for a second before they met._

_Christine moaned with pleasure at the contact and felt that their clothes were completely unnecessary. _

_Breaking the kiss, she cupped his face, her thumb gently rubbing his marred flesh, and saw nothing but pure bliss on Erik's features. She felt nervous about what she was going to ask, but they needed to do this. She didn't want to be with any other man but him!_

"_Erik, love me. Please, I only wish to be with you. I need you." she moaned as he kissed her neck; nibbling on her pulse point._

_Erik lifted his head to meet her gaze and saw nothing but pure love, and what looked like a hint of lust, in her brown orbs and flawless features._

"_Are you sure? I have no idea-"_

_Christine cut him off with another kiss and moved her hands down his shirt. She was glad that he was only in a white button-up shirt and brown trousers; she couldn't contain herself any longer._

_Before the couple knew it, they were both bare skinned and a virginal blush creeped over Christine's pale body._

"_I promise to be gentle, mon ange." Erik smirked as he kissed her stomach. Christine clutched his arms tightly as he entered her body for the first time, breaking past her thin barrier. He saw the tears course down he cheeks and wanted to ask how she was, but before he could utter a word, Christine gave his arm a reassuring squeeze that she was fine._

_Christine never felt such pleasure in her short life. Erik was amazing, considering that they both were virgins, and before they both reached their climax, Christine felt a warm sensation in her stomach as Erik finished and collapsed onto the sheets; his breathing coming in heavy pants._

"_Christine, thank you. You're more wonderful than an angel." he whispered into the crook of her shoulder. With their hands intertwined, the two fell asleep side by side, never wanting to wake up from their wonderful dream._

But that wonderful dream had ended once he killed Joseph Bouquet. Christine knew by then that she was carrying his child and was more afraid for it than anyone else.

Speaking of his child, the baby was restless in her Mother's comforting arms, wondering why she wasn't being fed.

"Wait just a few more minutes, Child, and I'll be able to feed you." she cooed and kissed the baby's forehead. Despite the deformity, which ran from her eyebrow down half her cheek, her daughter was quite precious; she had Erik's golden eyes, her curly brown hair, and his musical voice. _She would've been a fabulous opera star if her face was normal, but that doesn't matter right now. All that matters is that the carriage is here before he wakes up._

Raoul had gone to bed after striking the baby on the head with his cane.

"I'll no longer have that demon seed in my home! Either you kill it or get rid of it, or, I'll send you to the local whore house, my wife." he had shouted before slamming his bedroom door in her face.

The sound of the door opening broke through Christine's thoughts. Turning around to face the servant who was at the door, she asked if the carriage was set.

"It is, Madame Chagny, but, you have a caller." the older gentleman announced.

"Do you know who?"

"No, Madame, but he did tell me to give you this." he handed her the infamous single, thorn less rose with a black silk ribbon tied elegantly around its stem. Trembling slightly, Christine smiled and looked back up at the servant and gave him a nod.

"Tell him I'll be there in a moment."

The servant bowed slightly before shutting the door. Christine couldn't help but twirl around the room. He's here! He's here for _her_! For them. "Did you hear that, Ange? Your father is here. I only pray that he'll be happy when he sees us." she whispered. She knew Erik had every right to hate her; she'd left him below the opera cellars to leave with her "rescuer". Left him to wallow in his loneliness and anger.

Walking steadily down the hallway, Christine heard a voice muttering in the parlor.

"Why am I here? She's perfectly happy. Even has a baby."

"Oh, Erik."

Hearing his name, Erik turned around to confront whoever was talking to him.

"Hello? Is anyone there? Answer!" he pleaded; it had been her voice he had heard. Her beautiful, sweet voice. "Christine?"

His voice was covered with fear and hope and how it hurt her to hear it him like this; her strong, brave angel was now a lonely man, clinging onto one final hope that she might return.

Pushing the door open, Christine burst into tears; he looked awful! Erik was so thin and pale! His wonderful golden eyes were even more sunken in than she remembered and his thick raven black hair now held a few gray hairs in it. Gently putting their daughter on a chair nearby, she ran as fast as her legs could carry her and hit her angel with enough force to knock them both down. Thank God he was strong.

"Erik, I never thought I would be able to see you again! I'm so sorry for everything I have done! I was stupid and young and I promise to be with you forever." she sobbed as she felt his hands stroke her back.

"Its alright now, Ange. Just wake up and everything will be fine."

"You're not making sense, Erik. Wake up?"

Tilting her chin so she could meet his gaze, Erik firmly laid his lips upon her swollen, bruised ones. Both were gasping for breath by the end, but Christine was still confused. Why did she have to wake up? She wasn't asleep. She was right here, with her angel, who was talking complete nonsense. Settling her gaze back onto his face, she gave a cry as she saw nothing but darkness in front of her.

"Erik! Erik, where are you?!" she screamed and collapsed onto the floor.

"Christine, wake up. I'll be there when you wake up." the deep, tenor voice called.

Christine couldn't help but to obey the wonderful voice so she closed her eyes tightly and when she opened them, she was back in her bedroom, her hand maid looking down at her with a look of fear in her young blue eyes.

"Madame, are you alright?"

"Of course I am. Where is my baby?" she demanded when she noticed her child wasn't with her. How she worried about her!

"She's in the carriage, Madame. Are you sure you're well enough to travel?"

"I'm fine, really. Let me grab a few things and I'll be out." Christine smiled and got off the couch. So, it was just another useless dream. Christine slowly made her way to her vanity and picked up a few little trinkets that she refused to leave behind; the picture of her father, her rosary, a pair of gloves, and the simple golden ring he had given her.

"I promise to be with you as soon as I can, mon Ange. I love you." she whispered and sealed the promise as she slipped the ring onto the appropriate finger and walked silently out of her room for the last time.

**Told you guys I'd update, but not Memories**, **even though it would be nice to update it but I simply don't have time. I'm leaving in just a few days and I don't have enough time to update. Like I said before, I'm not leaving-**

**Erik: You're leaving?! What about you're duty as an authoress?! **

**Me: I"m not leaving forever! Its only for a week or so and then I'll update again. So now thats out of the way, did you guys like it? Please say you do! But if you don't, than thats cool too. Have a great day and God Bless!**

**^.^**


	2. I Found You

**I've gotten reviews from you people saying that I should keep writing ****Red Rose Thorns****. Well, guess what people? You're getting your wish! I'm going to write this story, granted it may not be full blown, but you guys have been nagging me and I've been nagging at myself to write more of this. So, read and enjoy!**

**Red Rose Thorns**

Christine sat in the carriage that sat right in front of the De Chagny manor, waiting for her driver to take her and her baby girl to the once grand Paris Opera House. Worries and doubts plagued the young soprano's mind: would Erik accept her back? Would he look upon his daughter with as much love as she did? Would Erik toss them out into the streets, not wanting her back after the way she had treated him? Well, Christine couldn't blame him for that one; what she had done that night below the opera house was unforgivable! Erik wasn't the monster that night, she was. She was the one who deserved to live in the damp cellars, not her Erik.

"Madame de Chagny, are you ready to depart?" the driver asked, tapping the roof of the carriage to get the young woman's attention. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something wrong with his mistress: why would she be sneaking away from her husband in the dead of night? The old man had seen the Vicomte always treat his wife with the utmost respect, but then again, he never went inside and he had heard gossip from the maids that he would regularly beat his wife and the supposed "bastard" child.

"Oui, Monsieur. To the opera house, please." Christine sighed. Looking down at her sleeping daughter, she smiled slightly and pushed a strand of curly brown hair from her face. Her child was the most precious thing to her; if Erik were to turn them out into the streets, Christine would do everything in her power to make sure that she would grow up knowing and loving her father, despite what he had done.

But that wasn't something Christine wanted to dwell on. She wanted to think about the happier times when it was just her and her angel of music. There were so many memories of just them and everything was running so smoothly until Raoul had become the opera's newest patron. Christine fell in love immediately, wanting nothing more than her childhood sweetheart, but that was also the night she had met Erik. Christine still didn't understand why Erik revealed himself to her on that particular night; perhaps he was tired of hiding behind her mirror or maybe he was afraid that Raoul was going to steal her away from him… "Oh, Little One, I hope your father is at the opera house; I don't know where else to find him."

It took about two hours to get from the manor to Paris; Raoul wanted to make sure that Erik couldn't find Christine so he had bought a monstrous house in the middle of nowhere! She had been so excited at first, thanking her husband over and over again for being so thoughtful and keeping her safe, but during those long months of pregnancy, it had become a prison of tacky decorations and nightly beatings. "We're here, Madame. Do you want me to wait here and take you back once you're finished here?"

Christine jumped at the sound of the old driver's voice; she didn't even notice that they had even entered the city. "Oui, Monsieur, but if I'm not out within an hour, I give you full permission to leave." She smiled and climbed out of the carriage. Grabbing the only suitcase she brought and a cloth bag that held all of her trinkets and silently walked over to the Rue Scribe entrance. Setting down her belongings, except for her child, Christine fished out the key that she had kept throughout her stay with Raoul and unlocked the hidden door, making sure that the driver couldn't see her opening it. Grabbing her things once again, she slipped quietly into the dark whole in the wall and closed it quickly.

Christine could barely see three feet in front of her; she knew better than to enter the catacombs without some form of light, but it was pointless wishing now. She had to find her way through the darkness on her own now. No Erik. No candles. Just her and her memories of how she had gotten down in the first place.

^.^

Erik closed the lid to his last trunk, sighing as he locked it. He had waited nine months, almost ten, waiting for his love to come back to him; it was a pathetic notion that she would come back, but he couldn't help it! The night she had given herself to him, in body and spirit, Erik thought he finally knew what it meant to be loved, yet, the night of Buquet's death, she had run to the fop for comfort instead of him!

He should have told her the truth that night: that it wasn't he who had killed Buquet, but that Buquet had killed himself. Still, Erik had helped with his suicide; he had asked the ghost to hang him, since he always carried around his Punjab lasso and Erik agreed out of sheer stupidity, that and he had busted into Andre's liquor cabinet, trying to drown his fears of Christine and that boy together with expensive brandy. Erik could understand why everyone thought he had killed Buquet. He had killed before, but he never flashed his handiwork in front of anyone.

But…the look of fear and utter horror in his beloved's eyes pulled him out of his drunken stupor and he felt his already broken heart shatter to pieces as he followed her and her boy up to the roof; she describing the horror of what he really was and the fop reassuring her that he was nothing more than a dream. When they had proclaimed their love for each other, Erik was sure he would die right then and there on the roof and what twisted the knife even more was that she had abandoned his rose in the cold, unforgiving snow, just like she had with him.

Erik couldn't understand why she would tell him that she loved him and then run off to another man, saying that he was a monster and that the other was her knight in shining armor. Erik had tried his hardest to be kind and loving, even when she pulled off his mask he didn't raise a hand at her, but that didn't matter in her eyes. Looks and charm seemed to capture her heart and it appeared that Erik had neither. All he had to offer was his love and music and never ending darkness. She would have never been able to survive in his darkness though; she was an angel, a creature of light, and he was a demon, a creature of nothing, a creature of pure evil.

Sitting down on the swan bed that was meant for the two of them, Erik sighed and placed his deformed head in his hands. He was leaving for America in a couple of hours. He decided that after waiting as long as he had, he deserved to live outside of his cellar and perhaps starting completely over would be a good thing; nobody would know him, his past, his shattered love, and maybe he could find another woman. One who could look beyond his face and see him for who he really was. A man. Sighing, Erik took in his lair, or whatever was left of it after what the mob had done, and swore he heard a voice that he hadn't heard in over nine months.

No, it couldn't possibly be her! Why would she be here after all these weeks? No, it must have been his wishful imagination. It had to be. Then, he heard it again; her precious voice crying out for help. Jumping up from the bed, Erik felt his heart stop at what he saw; his angel was standing in knee deep water, a squirming bundle in her goose bump arms.

"E-Erik?" she whispered, her expressive brown eyes wide with hope. He hadn't left the cellars! He was still there!

"Christine?" he breathed. What was she doing here? She should be sitting in front of a fire with her Vicomte, cooing over the bundle that she held so securely. Was she back to tell him that they were leaving France? That she was expecting child number two soon?

"Erik, take your daughter and then help me out?" Christine said, her eyes widening that she had let her secret slip. She had wanted to make the moment special between the two of them, but, as usual, she screwed it up.

Daughter? Did she just say that he had a daughter? That couldn't be true! He had only laid with her once! There was no way she could have become pregnant from that! It had to have been the Vicomte's child; there was no other explanation. "Christine…what?"

"Just take her and I'll explain everything, I promise." Christine begged. Her baby was starting to fuss and if she dropped her in the freezing lake water, Christine would never forgive herself.

Erik hesitantly walked into his lake and scooped his angel up in his arms bridal style. He heard her give a small squeak at the sudden loss of ground beneath her feet, but he ignored it; he stood in shock when his golden eyes clashed with the little girl's…and her deformity.

"What's wrong, Angel?"

"She…She's…like me." He finally choked out. This was his daughter; the Vicomte was too handsome to spawn such a child. Not that he cared that she was deformed, but her life wasn't going to be an easy one.

"Is that a bad thing?" Christine practically growled. She knew she was too overprotective of her child, but after all that Raoul had done to the innocent baby, she naturally became protective or offended.

"No! Oh, Christine, I don't care what she looks like, but…the Vicomte?" he asked helplessly.

Christine's pretty face fell at the mention of her husband's title. Why did he have to mention that man's name right now? "Erik, she's your daughter...Raoul never acknowledged her and he would beat her regularly, as you can see by her bruise."

Erik waded through the water, watching the tears roll down his love's cheeks. The Vicomte would _beat_ his child because she was deformed? What else had he done to the poor baby? "Has he hurt you in anyway?" he growled. If that fop had touched her even once, there would be hell to pay.

Christine kept silent as they made their way back to shore; she didn't know how she was going to tell Erik about the nights when Raoul would get drunk, beat her, force himself, and usually beat her again if he wasn't tired. Perhaps she could tell him that later. Right now, Christine just savored the feeling of being cradled in her angel's arms. She felt safe, secure and…loved. Christine hadn't felt the sensation since the night Erik brought her down for the first time; she had forgotten how good it felt.

Erik could tell that she was staying purposefully silent and maybe it was a good thing too; he just got his angel back, he was wary on that fact though, and he didn't want to be separated from her again by being arrested for killing the boy or scaring Christine off again.

"You should change out of your clothes, my dear. You might catch a chill and I don't want that to happen."

Now that he had mentioned it, Christine had completely forgotten that she was soaking wet up to her knees; if she got sick, she wouldn't be able to take care of her baby girl, but Erik could take care of the little one, couldn't he?

"I guess I should. Will you hold your daughter? She gets rather fussy if she's not held." Christine instructed as Erik gently put her on the bed, taking his daughter from her grasp.

"We'll be right outside if you need anything." Erik said, shutting the door and walking over to his piano bench. Sitting down, he was finally able to get a good look at the little girl: she had her mother's brown curls, his golden eyes, Christine's round face, and his deformed cheek. How could such an angel be so dreadfully cursed? True, it wasn't as severe as his, but she was just an innocent girl and she didn't deserve to have such a fate put onto her tiny shoulders. Would the world be cruel to her, as it was to her father? Would she grow to hate him because of what she had inherited from him?

Hold on, why were they referring to their daughter as _she_ and _her_? Didn't Christine name the girl? Maybe she was going to dump the baby on him, since they looked so much alike, and then she would go skipping back to her Vicomte! How dare she do such a thing to him? Erik should have known better than to let the woman who had broken his tattered heart more times than he could count back into his life! He should have known better!

Looking back down at her tiny face, Erik came up with the most perfect name for her, "Alyssandra Filicia Destler. Do you like your new name, Alyssandra?" he cooed at the infant. Staring up at her father, Alyssandra gave a small yawn and nuzzled her face into his thin chest, a sigh escaping her perfect lips as she fell asleep, happy with her new name.

Christine wanted to cry at the moment between father and daughter; Erik seemed so careful and gentle with their child, their Alyssandra-what a unique name-and her falling asleep in his arms! They looked so perfect together! As much as she hated to interrupt, she wanted to find out where Erik came up with the name Alyssandra Filicia. Was it French? Or something foreign?

"You seem to be fitting into the father role pretty fast." She said, placing a delicate hand on her Erik's shoulder. He seemed to tense at her touch, but she just passed it off that he wasn't used to being touched in such a way.

"Why did you come here, Christine?" Erik whispered, trying his best to keep a level head so he wouldn't wake up his daughter.

"What do you mean? I'm here to stay with you, Erik." She replied, confused at his behavior. Just before she changed her clothes, he was quiet, but he was kind. Why the sudden change in attitude? Fear began to coil in the pit of her stomach; she never thought that Erik would only accept his daughter back and throw her out!

Erik released a bitter chuckle, standing up and going to the bedroom Christine had just exited. Setting his Alyssandra down on the soft silk, he turned back to look at a concerned Christine. Practically pushing her over, Erik gestured for her to sit as he shut the door to the room. There was going to be arguing, yelling, and maybe some tears and he didn't want the girl to waken to such anger.

"Don't lie to me, Christine. Admit it, you're only here to give me our daughter and run back to your precious Vicomte."

"How dare you? I would never do such a thing! I have every intention of leaving my husband and raising my daughter with you and only you!" Christine nearly shouted, "I know I've realized this all too late, but I want to change everything, Angel; I want to start over with you and Alyssandra!"

Erik couldn't believe what he was hearing; Christine wanted to have a family with him? Was she completely desperate to leave her loving husband and crawl back to him, a monster? "Whatever you think your life with me will be, Christine, its pure fantasy. I can't provide like your boy can, I'm not rich, I'm not handsome, and I'm definitely not social. So, tell me, why do you want me?"

Throwing her hands up in the air, Christine gave a frustrated cry before answering, "Because I love you, you thick headed man! I love you and Alyssandra and not that abusive son of a bitch!"

"Abusive? What did the Vicomte do to you? And I want an answer this time, Christine; I don't want you to shrug it off and pretend that its nothing."

Sighing, Christine knew that she had no choice now but to tell Erik about the terror and pain filled nights, "After we had slept together, I became pregnant with Alyssandra. I was excited to say the least, but then you killed Joseph Buquet and I was frightened, Erik. The first thought that crossed my mind was where had my loving angel gone. So, I ran to Raoul because he offered me safety and comfort. I was a fool to go to him; once we got married, he began to drink. I thought it was harmless, really. What was wrong with a hard working man having a few drinks after dinner? His drinking soon spiraled out of control and one night it got so bad that he beat me. He beat me until I was nearly unconscious and when I refused to move my hands from my stomach, he knew I was hiding something. Raoul pretended to be sorry, begging for my forgiveness and I slipped up; I revealed that I was pregnant. I thought for a moment that he would just automatically jump to the fact that it was his child, but I could see him counting back the months in his head and he could see the development, since I had stopped wearing my corset. He knew that it wasn't his child and he beat me again. Throughout my pregnancy, it became routine for him to get drunk, beat me, force himself upon me, then beat me again." By this point Christine was shaking with suppressed sobs. Just thinking of it just made her want to burst with anger and sadness.

Erik could see Christine's obvious distress and regretted his earlier outburst, but he still kept his guard up. What if it was just a ploy to get close to him and then tear his heart out again and laugh at him? "How can I trust that this is all real, Christine? I had once put every ounce of trust in you and then you broke it. How do I know you won't break it again?"

"I can understand your lack of trust, but you must believe me! If you don't then the bruise on Alyssandra's forehead should be proof enough! Raoul had hit her on the head with his cane, telling me to kill her!" she shouted. Muffled crying was coming from her old room, but she had to ignore it, even though motherly instinct was telling her to go in there and never come out, but Christine knew that in order to get through to Erik, she must stand her ground and show him that she was telling the truth.

"How can I be sure you didn't put that bruise there? After all, she resembles me, a demon unfit for human life." Erik spat. He knew the cruelties of women; his own mother used to hit him and lock him in his room if he misbehaved. Maybe his daughter had suffered the same fate at her young age.

"Alyssandra has been my main reason of living these nine months, Erik! When Raoul found out she was your child, I was the one who protected her! She would be dead if it wasn't for me! I took those nightly beatings just for her and after two weeks of being unsure if he would steal her and finish her off himself, I ran away, back to you! I thought that you would welcome us with open arms, but I see that it is the exact opposite! I'll take Alyssandra and myself Madame Giry's flat; I'm sure she'd be more than happy to have us, unlike you!"

Erik had never seen Christine so fierce; where had the calm, docile girl who he had tutored gone to? Letting her words fully sink in, he caught her wrist as she walked towards the bedroom door, where the whimpers had turned into full blown screams. Erik had grown attached to his child in the short amount of time that he held her and he couldn't bear it if he lost both of them due to his lack of trusting others.

"Don't go, Christine. I-I don't think I could handle losing you again and I know for a fact that if you take away my daughter, I will surely die."

Looking at him, Christine gave a watery smile; his plea sounded so much like a child asking for his mother to go get his favorite toy back from the neighborhood bully. "I won't leave, Angel, but you must believe me when I say that I would never hurt our daughter in any way. Alyssandra is my world and I hope she can be apart of yours too."

Releasing her wrist, Erik could only blink as he watched the most perfect woman and mother open the door and walk inside, saying sweet words to their child.

"Maman is sorry for the loud noises, Alyssandra. We never meant to wake you up, sweet one." Christine cooed, picking up the crying baby. She must have had sensitive hearing like her father and it made everything extra loud for her.

"Can I see her?" Erik asked timidly, holding his arms out just incase she said yes.

"Of course," Christine replied, setting the still crying baby in her Erik's arms, "you can hold her anytime you want."

Erik didn't hear what Christine had told him nor did he care what it was; he was holding his child. The living, breathing miracle that came from his and his angel's love.

Alyssandra wriggled within the foreign grasp, wanting to be back in the familiar arms of the woman who had taken care of her in her short time of being in the bright world around her. Looking back up at him, she could see that he had strange, but comforting eyes that she recognized.

Giving his Alyssandra a soft grin, Erik took a deep breath and began a lullaby he had first sang to her when she had come to the opera house; it was a song meant for children younger than six, but it still fit perfectly for her.

**Baby mine, don't you cry  
Baby mine, dry your eyes  
Rest your head close to my heart  
Never to part, baby of mine.**

Little one when you play  
Don't you mind what you say  
Let those eyes sparkle and shine  
Never a tear, baby of mine.

Christine remembered the song immediately and felt her own brown eyes swell up with tears. How could she have left this man? Erik was already a remarkable father: he made sure that she was comfortable, safe, and loved.

**If they knew sweet little you  
They'd end up loving you too  
All those same people who scold you  
What they'd give just for  
The chance to hold you.**

Erik's voice rang softly throughout his lair, singing as softly as he possibly could so that his daughter would calm down and it seemed to have worked. Alyssandra's eyelids were beginning to droop and her cries had become nothing but gentle, almost musical, gurgles. Tearing his eyes away from the tiny child, Erik saw Christine wiping her eyes, her eyes telling him to continue.

**From your head to your toes  
Your not much, goodness knows  
But your so precious to me  
Cute as can be, baby of mine.**

Her voice joining in the last verse, Christine smiled as Erik set their Alyssandra in the swan bed, kissing both her deformed cheek and perfect one.

"Bonne nuit, Ange. Nous aimons vous." She whispered, yawning at the same time. "Erik, I'm tired."

"Are you ready to go to bed, my dear? I have a pair of pajamas for you to wear since I'm guessing you have left your belongings on the other side of the lake."

"You must be psychic. Oui, my suitcase is on the other side of the lake, but there isn't much there; only a couple of dresses, some undergarments, and a cloth bag that I have some of my most treasured objects in."

"Well, I'll get that for you tomorrow. You've had a rough day and you deserve some rest." Erik said, going to one of his trunks and grabbing two pairs of silk pajamas. Christine hadn't noticed the trunks when she had first entered the room; she had been too transfixed on the lullaby Erik had been singing, but now that she was free from his voice, she had time to observe the room.

"Were you leaving to go somewhere?" she asked. Picking up one of the tags, Christine read _America_ on it. Why was he leaving for America? Did he have family over there? Or was it for another purpose?

"I…I was going to America. I had waited for so many months for you to return and I was finally done waiting. My boat is supposed to leave within the next hour." Erik replied, looking at his pocket watch to confirm his answer. Christine held tightly onto the pajamas in shock; she had nearly lost her Erik! There would have been no way for her to have known that he would be in America and she would have never been able to reunite with him.

"But don't worry, mon amour, I'm staying right here; I won't leave you and Alyssandra." Erik reassured, kissing her cheek before turning around to change into the black pajamas. Sighing with relief, Christine stripped off her dress, corset, stockings, and chemise, and slipped into the cool and comfortable silk. The clothes Erik bought were always so expensive and glamorous; it was a mystery where he got all of his money!

The exhausted couple crawled onto the welcoming bed, one on either side of their daughter. Christine reached over, her arm landing on her lover's waist, loving the feeling of not being beaten. Not having to cry herself to sleep.

"Je t'aime, mon coeur." Both whispered sleepily in unison before falling asleep, joining their Alyssandra in the world of dreams and make believe.

**I love Mt. Dew! There is so much caffeine and sugar in that pop to keep me wired for hours! I'm still awake and it's almost 2 AM. The ending to this kinda sucked, but when caffeine, sugar, late, or early, hours combined with the knowledge that I have to work tomorrow didn't motivate me very much. I have a part time job that, unfortunately, falls on the weekends and on some weekdays, depending on the job, but at least I get paid! I have to pay for my own car insurance! I'm done rambling now and I think I might have enough energy in me to post one more story tonight…or would this count as morning…? But in the grand scheme of things, does it matter?**

**Erik: I think you should lay off the soda for now, my dear.**

**Me: You're not the boss of me!**

**Erik: Yes I am! I'm giving you full permission to write about me.**

**Me: I would actually need the full permission of Leroux to write about you.**

**Erik:…*pulls out flaming baseball bat***

**Me: And that is my cue to shut up and go to bed! Remember everyone, review and Erik will give you a rose!**

**Erik: Or a hit in the face with a flaming baseball bat!**

**Me: We don't want to scare them! Okay, maybe scaring them would work, but I just want them to review!**

**Christine: Erik, stop threatening people!**

**Erik: Yes, Christine. *puts out baseball bat***

**Me: Good night!**


	3. Why We Are Here

**It's good news bad news time here, people. Good news is that it's Easter! Hooray for Easter! Bad news is that I might not be updating much until June. My summer break is over tomorrow and I know my teachers will be piling on the homework since school is out in less than two months for me. I'm excited for June 2! But I also don't know how much I'll be updating over the summer because I'm visiting my dad, friends, going on trips, and band camp. Yup, you heard me right: band camp. **

**Erik: Can I go with you?**

**Me: I thought you hated people?**

**Christine: He does, but he doesn't want to be home with me and Alyssandra all summer.**

**Me: Erik, you do realize that it's only for August.**

**Erik:…Christine! Forgive Erik! He loves you and his darling daughter!**

**Christine: Nice try, Monsieur Phantom, but no; you're going to band camp.**

**Erik: But Christine!**

**Me: Stop arguing you guys! Well, there is something exciting going on in this chapter so I hope you all enjoy it.**

**Erik: Does Alyssandra walk? Talk? Is her first word Papa?**

**Me: You'll have to find out!**

**Red Rose Thorns**

"Erik, honestly, you can't keep carrying her around like that! She needs to learn how to walk on her own." Christine scolded, but couldn't hide her smile as she watched her now fiancée carrying their daughter everywhere. It had been six months since she had left Raoul and Alyssandra was supposed to be learning how to walk. Erik was eager to teach their baby girl how to walk, but when she fell and scrapped her knee, that is was where he drew the line; Alyssandra was never going to walk as long as he was her father.

"I don't want her to get hurt again, Christine; she's far too precious." He shot back, knowing he had won the battle, but definitely not the war. Even when she was young, Christine was determined to have her way and usually Erik gave into the determination, letting her have whatever her angel could get her and he could tell that she was determined for Alyssandra to learn how to walk by any means necessary.

"I thought I was precious!" Christine feigned being hurt, using her most dramatic voice, "Well then, Monsieur, I shall stay in my room."

Laughing, Erik wrapped his arm around her petite waist, kissing her cheek as his daughter grabbed hold of his thick black hair. "Ow! Alyssandra, release Papa's hair, please."

"She just loves her father, don't you sweet one?" Christine cooed, prying her tiny hand off of Erik's silky hair.

"Merci, mon ange." He sighed, "Christine, there is something I want to ask you."

This wasn't good. The last time he had started a conversation out like this, they had ended up arguing and he left for hours. Christine had been so worried and regretted every word she had said to him and when he finally returned, she was asleep by a dying fire, Alyssandra in her arms. All was forgiven the next morning and it was the same morning he had proposed.

"Why hasn't the Vicomte come after you yet? I mean, he doesn't love you and you don't love him, but you're still his wife; wouldn't he try to 'rescue' you?" Erik asked; his golden gaze never leaving Alyssandra's own golden eyes.

Sighing in relief, Christine gave a slight smile and touched her baby's nearly neck length curly hair. She had thought about why Raoul hadn't sent the police, but she didn't care; as long as he didn't tear her away from Erik, she had nothing to complain about!

"I don't really know why Raoul hasn't come down here yet and I honestly don't give a damn. You're my fiancée now and we have a beautiful daughter and even if Raoul did come down here, there is no way he could take me away from you; he won't convince me because I know you're a good person, he won't beg because his pride is too great, and he can't drag me against my will because I'll kick him into the lake before he could touch me."

Alyssandra looked between the two people who had been taking care of her. She could hear the woman saying something about never going back to the bad man who had hit her with the cane.

Erik gazed down at the squirming infant in his arms. He was still confused about how quickly the Vicomte went from being caring to a drunk who beat his wife and her child, but that was something else to think about later. Right now, he had Christine and Alyssandra and that was all that mattered to him.

"Erik, I need to go above ground as soon as possible." Christine whispered timidly, afraid to bring this topic up, but it had to be discussed.

"Why is that, mon cherie? I thought you did all of your shopping yesterday afternoon with Alyssandra?"

"Oui, I did, but there is another matter that I must attend to. According to the church, I'm still married to Raoul. I have to get a divorce, no matter what the humiliation will be on my end."

"Why can't we just go to America where nobody would know that you're married to Raoul de Chagny? You could just be married to Erik Destler." He said, trying to keep his anger level. Erik knew that Christine would have to go to Raoul and get his signature on the divorce documents and that it could take months, maybe even a year, before everything was settled; he couldn't wait that long!

"It's a thing that I have to do. If we leave for America, or any other country, I don't want this marriage to hanging over my head; I want our marriage to be filled with joy and not secrets and worry."

Erik knew that she was right, but there was one doubt that still rang in his thoughts, despite all of her promises and reassurances. "How do I know you won't just stay with the Vicomte?"

If Christine's glare had been fire, he would have been dead by now. Getting up out of her chair, Christine picked up Alyssandra from Erik's grasp and walked to their bedroom, slamming the door and bolting it, just like she used to when she had feared Erik's temper, but now it was her temper she was trying to calm.

How could he think of such a thing? Hadn't she shown him that she loved him? Wasn't their daughter proof? Or the ring on her finger? Perhaps the bruises and infected cuts that she had shown him wasn't enough! Christine placed her daughter in the crib Erik had made and landed face down on the silky bed; it smelled just like the man outside the room. Musky. Ink. Smoke. Roses.

Erik still had his arms positioned as if he were holding Alyssandra; he hadn't expected Christine to get so upset! Didn't she hear him wake up in the middle of the night from dreams of her leaving with their daughter and going straight back to the Vicomte? That he relived that scene from the roof every day? They had been together for six months now, but he had tutored her for God knows how many years and she still betrayed him! Getting off the couch, Erik walked calmly over to the bedroom door, lightly knocking.

"What?" came his only reply, muffled from the door and from what sounded like a pillow.

"Christine, I'm sorry; I didn't mean it. I just…I just think about you leaving every night…leaving with Alyssandra. I love you so much…it kills me to even think that you would go back to him, even if it is just to sign documents." He heard light footsteps coming towards the door and the bolt unlocking, but the door did not open like he had hoped.

"I'll only be gone for a couple of hours, Erik; it's not like I'm leaving for several months."

"I know. I'm sorry. Will you please come out?"

Christine could hear the uncertainty in her angel's voice and instantly felt bad for marching out on him. He was still insecure with himself and their relationship; she should have known since the first week they were together, when the nightmares began. Opening the door, she smiled slightly at the sight of Erik's unmasked face; he looked so vulnerable, but seemed to brighten up at the sight of her.

"Mon ange, je t'aime, but we can't keep arguing like this. We'll eventually grow sick of being around each other and I don't want that."

"It was my fault, Christine; I shouldn't have said anything about you and the Vicomte."

"You were only speaking out load and I overreacted. There is nothing to be sorry for. Now, come, I'll make you some lunch before I have to leave." Christine smiled, taking her fiancée's hand into her petite one and led him to the kitchen, the argument completely forgotten.

^.^

Raoul smiled wickedly down at the prostitute who was sleeping next to him. The six months that Christine had been missing had granted him all the sexual freedom that he craved while she was pregnant with that….thing's seed. He had filled his share of women, becoming a regular down at the brothels and favorites already lined up for him when he arrived, but he still didn't like the fact that his wife was wandering around somewhere; she was his property after all and he had to control it!

Slipping out of his bed, Raoul dawned a red silk robe before leaving his room, blowing a kiss to the whore who was still sleeping soundly. Finding his servant, he ordered a bath and for his carriage to be prepared for departure in an hour. The servant could only bow and follow his master's orders; he knew why the young man needed his carriage and he didn't like the thought of him going out to find the poor Vicomtess sickened him. She had been a very smart girl for leaving when she had the chance!

Raoul entered his room and found the woman awake, if barely, and decided to see if she needed a way back into the brothel. Or if she was game for another round.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle. How did you sleep?" he asked sweetly, placing a kiss on her flushed cheek.

"You should know, Monsieur; you exhausted me more than usual. Is something on your mind?" she asked, getting out of the bed and reaching for her chemise. She absolutely hated this man! He was so self centered, a drunk, and had temper issues, which usually led to the girls or herself to be beaten every time they were over at the mansion, but she had to grin and bear it because he was the biggest costumer that the brothel had seen in a long time.

"Oui, something is bothering me, but I shall have to tell you later; I have had the maid draw you a bath so be quick because I must leave and you have to come with me." Raoul replied, his tone was colder than any winter chill.

"Merci, Monsieur. I'm not spoiled by all of my other customers."

"You're very polite for a woman of your trade."

"Well, my mother used to be a high ranking woman before we lost all of our money and old habits die hard I guess." She replied, instantly regretting that she said anything about her mother.

"You can't fool me, Mademoiselle; I know your kind well enough that you can generate the worst sob stories. Why, just the other day I talked to a young woman who claimed that her father was a duke in England, but he had lost all of his money to his awful gambling habits. They were so far in debt, she told me, that he committed suicide and left her and her mother to rot! They eventually moved here where the mother is a supposed seamstress and she the prostitute. Now, would you buy such a silly story, Mademoiselle?"

"Non, Monsieur. What a silly story." She mumbled. She knew that girl very well for that girl was her cousin. The woman at the brothel only took in well bred girls who had either lost all of their money in one form or another or just decided to leave their rich and posh lifestyle for something that brought them excitement.

"I knew you'd agree with me. Now hurry up and take your bath; I wish to leave in an hour." Raoul growled, changing into his day clothes. "And one more thing, Kimia, I saw your father the other day; what a pathetic excuse of a man, don't you think?"

Curling her fists, all she could do was nod and leave, wanting nothing more than to wrap her hands around the Vicomte's pampered neck. Entering the marble bathroom, she unwrapped the towel that Raoul had thrown at her, revealing her smooth, coffee cream skin, and dipped into the warm water. This was the reason why she put up with that asshole: he pampered her to no end. She might as well be his wife with the way he treated her, but when he got too drunk or wasn't pleased…then everything went downhill.

And how could he say _anything_ about her father? He knew nothing about what had happened in Persia all those years ago! Kimia swore the day her father was thrown in prison that she would find the man behind it and she knew she was close; rumor had it that the Vicomtess herself ran off to a man who had the same features her father had mentioned. Perhaps going with the Vicomte to find his tramp of a wife wouldn't be such a loss after all.

^.^

"Au revior, mon amour; I'll be back as soon as possible." Christine said, kissing Erik's scarred check and did the same with Alyssandra. She looked so much like Erik, if someone ignored the scar; she had his eyes, his thin lips, his lopsided grin, but there were parts of Alyssandra where Christine could see herself, even though they were very settle.

"You promise?" Erik teased, pulling her down for one more kiss.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I want to get back to my family?"

Alyssandra saw the man's eyes sparkle with something that he looked at her with often, but she couldn't place what the sparkle was! "F-Fa…Family!"

Erik and Christine looked down at the giggling little girl, stunned that she had just talked.

"Oh my God! She-She talked!" Christine cried, one hand reaching for Alyssandra's hand and the other going to Erik's neck.

"Can you say Papa? Maman?" Erik smiled, holding his baby girl up in a standing position. Had she really just talked?

"P-Papa!" Alyssandra laughed and clapped her hands. The man and woman were speechless! She did something that made them not yell at each other!

"I wish I could stay longer, but I have to go. I'm so sorry, sweet one, but Maman promises to play with you once she gets back, alright?" Christine sighed, stroking Alyssandra's curly brown hair. The only response she got was a tender coo, but it was enough for her. Taking one last look at her family, Christine got pulled back a curtain and entered a tunnel that would open up into the Rue Scribe.

Entering the street, she walked confidently towards the church, but something stopped her dead in her tracks: her husband was standing just a few feet away from her, a young tan girl on his arm and he was showering her with gifts.

**And we're going to leave it at that. I told you that Alyssandra would do something cute!**

**Erik: She's growing up so fast!**

**Christine: She's so precious!**

**Alyssandra: Papa!**

**Me: She reminds me of my cousin. They would get along so well!**

**Christine: Erik is going to spoil the living daylights out of her…that can't be a good thing.**

**Erik: Of course it will be! She'll be so spoiled, but I'll raise her to be the most polite child who ever lived!**

**Me: Oh! She's just so cute! Well, anyway, this chapter was short for several reasons, the main one being that I wanted it to be short. It was a filler chapter basically and I promise that what is to come is going to be amazing! I'm so glad that you guys convinced me to continue writing this!**

**Erik: Christine and I thank you also, lovely readers.**

**Alyssandra: Merci!**

**Christine: I love you!**

**Me: Good night everyone! I'm sure that once Erik and Christine stop doting over their daughter, they'll talk some more. Review please!**

**^.^**


	4. A Bargain

**I have gone over this several times already, but my reason for not updating is because there has been a lot of crap that has been going on lately and that is my reason. I'm not going into too much detail, but there was a family crisis, I moved back to my dad's, and that's about it. Nothing to exciting. **

**Christine: You poor, poor thing! **

**Me: Thank you, Christine. Where's Erik? Is he still sitting in the Emo Author Corner?**

**Christine: *sigh* Yes, he is, but I'll drag him out hopefully by the end of the chapter; I need him to help me with Alyssandra. She has decided to be a complete handful today!**

**Alyssandra: *yanks on Christine's hair* Papa!**

**Me: I'm sorry, Christine. We'll both get him at the end and Alyssandra, stop abusing Maman! So, without further interruptions, here is the next chapter to the story!**

**Red Rose Thorns**

Raoul had decided that before he went looking for his wife, he would take his favorite whore out for some shopping. She had been very good lately and he always treated the girls well when the pleased and obeyed him. So, today he was going to buy her any piece of jewelry that she wanted and perhaps a new dress that only she would wear when he called upon her.

"Well, my dear, what store would you like to go into first? There is no need to rush; take your time and I'll pay your mistress whatever amount of money she wants since I'm keeping you away from work." He told her sweetly into her ear.

"Thank you, Monsieur le Vicomte. I must say, you've never pampered me like this before. Are you in a particularly good mood today?" Kimia asked, but she knew the reason why: he was getting back his wife today and he planned on using her to do so. But she wasn't going to complain at the moment; he had been treating her like an actual human being for once and she was going to soak it up while she could. Right now, she was looking for a necklace that she had seen the other day that she had fallen in love with! Though, she wasn't having any luck so far, the Vicomte promised her that if she couldn't find it, he would have a jeweler make it for her, but it would cost her and she could only guess what he had in store for her.

"I'm in fantastic mood because I'm getting my wife back." Raoul smiled wickedly, "And I'm also thinking about how I'm going to get her back, too. Perhaps I'll threaten her disgusting baby and kill her lover. Perhaps I'll kill them both and she'll have no choice but to come back to me."

"But you'll still call on me, won't you Monsieur? I'll get awfully lonely if you don't." She had to play along. If she played her cards right, she would be one step closer to killing the man who had placed her father in the Persian prison and forced her into this lifestyle. _I will find you, you bastard. I will find you and I will help Raoul kill you! _

Giving out a dark chuckle, Raoul saw the anger and hatred that seemed to creep into Kimia's eyes and he loved it! He saw that he had made the right choice when it came to picking out which whore would help him kill the Phantom's family! He had a detective do background checks on his lovers and he was extremely pleased when he saw that she had a father in a Persian prison because he had helped a deformed French man leave the country. He had a pretty good guess at who the deformed man was and he knew that Kimia would be the perfect accomplice.

"I'll never leave you, ma petite putain! You're my favorite out of all of the girls that I see and I'm glad that you're helping out this beautiful afternoon."

Kimia ignored the stares from the people who had heard what Raoul had said. It was his pet name for her and even though it made her cringe and want to break his neck, she put up with it. Mainly because he would not beat her nearly as hard if she did. "That's good news. I know the mistress would be quite sad if completely left us."

"My wife won't care if I sleep with women besides her. She doesn't please me like she should and that's why I beat her and come find you girls. My wife is nothing but a scrawny little chienne; I don't even know what I saw in her. I guess was hoping that she would be the same submissive little Lotte who I had met when we were little, but I guess I was wrong. Instead, I got a whore who did nothing but sulk and then she gave birth to a monster. But I'm willing to forgive her, Kimia. I'm willing to forgive her as long as she comes back to me and if she allows me to kill her spawn and lover."

Kimia couldn't believe what she was hearing! This man was absolutely insane! Why did he marry somebody if it only brought back memories? Why would he go through all the trouble that he had to get this girl who he would just beat? And how could his wife be so stupid to go with him? Couldn't she see that he was a horrible person?

"I think it's very noble of you that you'll take her back. She's lucky to have a strong man like you looking after her. Oh, look, there is the necklace I wanted!" Kimia forced a smile to her lips and pointed to a random necklace. She just needed to change the subject! Despite what she thought about the Vicomte's wife, nobody should go through something like that. _Maybe I'll help her get out, but I won't show mercy towards her lover. Not after what he did to my father, but her poor child…she's an innocent baby, deformed or not, and she has done nothing wrong. _

"Is that so? Then, my darling, I shall purchase it for you, but I expect you to pay me back." Raoul chuckled, as if he made some clever joke. Kimia gave the sick man a small grin and watched as he walked inside the tiny jewelry store, buying the necklace that she didn't even want, or need. Heaving a sigh, she turned around and nearly had a heart attack at what she saw: it was Christine de Chagny! She was literally standing right across the street from her. She had to warn her. She didn't care if her lover was a bastard who had ruined her life, or the fact that the girl herself was a whore, but she deserved better than Raoul. She deserved so much more, even if that better person was the man she wanted to murder.

Looking inside the store, Kimia made sure that Raoul's attention was being held and she darted across the street. "Madame! Madame de Chagny!" she called, hoping that she wouldn't scare the poor thing off.

Christine heard her title being called and she stiffened immediately. It was bad enough that Raoul and his mistress was standing across the street, but the fact that the girl knew who she was made her absolutely terrified. _Will she tell Raoul about me? She can't! I'm finally happy and I don't want to go back to him! Especially now that he has a mistress! _Gathering her composure, she walked out of the alley and stood on the sidewalk, waiting for the girl to reach her.

The girl was actually quite beautiful; she had light brown skin, pitch black hair, and sparkling brown eyes. Christine could see why Raoul would want a mistress like her. She was even more beautiful than herself. "What do you need, my dear? Aren't you with my husband right now?"

"I am, Madame, but I have to tell you something. It's concerning Monsieur de Chagny." Kimia said, seeing the fear in her pretty brown eyes. _I can understand why Raoul was attracted to her. She is very lovely, despite the scars that litter her face. No doubt that was his doing!_ She couldn't help but feel her own scars and bruises beginning to hurt again; that abusive son of a bitch had thrown a bottle at her last night and the glass shattered against her skin.

"What do you have to say?"

"He is coming after you, Madame. He plans on taking you back and killing your child." Kimia had decided to leave out the part of him killing her lover, despite that being her part of the scheme, but now that she was standing here in front of this woman, she no longer felt the urge to kill him. Yes, she still hated him with a passion, but she didn't feel the need to kill him anymore.

Christine wanted to cry and run away, back down to the cellars! She wanted to hold her child, she wanted Erik to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be alright, that Raoul wasn't going to do anything to their family.

"Merci for letting me know, Mademoiselle. I need you to do something for me, if you don't mind." Christine whispered, horror still evident on her features.

"Whatever you need, Madame, I'll gladly help with."

"I'm on my way to the church where Raoul and I are married and getting the documents for divorce. Meet me in this exact spot later on tonight and I'll give you to them. Get Raoul very drunk and have him sign the documents. After this is done, meet me here once again, hand me over the documents and you'll never have to see me again. This I promise you." Christine instructed. She couldn't face Raoul; she thought she had the confidence to confront him, but she realized that it wasn't there, at least not yet. She couldn't face this man without her angel. She didn't want to feel the sting of a slap, the hurt of a punch, or the force of a kick. She didn't want that; she knew if Erik was with her, he could protect her, but he wasn't there to protect her. He was five levels underneath the opera house looking after their daughter. And right now, she was relying on a girl who she had never met, but had connections to her husband.

"Yes, Madame, I will help you. As long as you sign the document before I give it to Raoul, I can return it to the church for you, but I have one condition though." Kimia had to know. She had to know why her bastard lover had her father tossed in jail. If she found out the truth, she wouldn't give two shits if he lived or not. She just wanted to know. "I wish to speak to your…friend, Madame. He has some vital information regarding my father and I wish to ask him about it. If I could just do that, I will do whatever you want."

Christine didn't want to admit it, but she was desperate! She needed to get these documents signed and turned in as fast as she could because the sooner she turned them back into the church the sooner she could leave!

"You may speak with him, but you must swear you won't ever show Raoul or any other living soul where this place shall be. It is my home and my fiancé's sanctuary so if I find out that you betray my trust, horrible things will happen in your future, Mademoiselle, this I promise you!" Christine hissed.

"I won't betray your trust, Madame, and please, call me Kimia. If we are to be working together, no more formalities."

Christine gave a slight nod at this and proceeded to give the girl instruction on how to get below the opera. She had a feeling in her gut that she was going to regret this, but she had no other option! Either she trusted Raoul's mistress to help her out, or Raoul would kill Erik and Alyssandra.

^.^

Erik was enjoying his alone time with his baby girl. He had been composing lately and when he started, he couldn't do anything else until it was complete, and that included playing with Alyssandra. But he didn't feel too bad though; the song he had been composing was meant for her and only her. He hoped that one day he could write more songs for even more children. _Christine probably wants to wait until Alyssandra is a tad bit older; I have a feeling that if it happens too young, she'll get jealous, but if she's too old, she won't have anything in common with the baby. It's definitely a delicate balance that I'm sure Christine and I can figure out._

After Christine had left, Erik had placed Alyssandra in her crib, hoping that the child would take a nap, but all he got were shrieks for her papa or her maman. It drove him insane! Even after six months of being with his little girl, he couldn't believe the set of lungs she had! And she was as stubborn as her mother!

"The one trait you had to inherit from your mother. You couldn't have inherited her natural shyness or quiet demeanor, could you? No, you decided to get her stubbornness and lungs, while all I could give you was my face." Erik sighed. He was going crazy; he was having conversations with Alyssandra, who just wanted to play or walk around in tiny circles. She didn't care what traits she inherited or what she looked like or how her parents got along. Her main goal at the moment was to play, but her papa decided to be quiet and she was going to throw a fit any second!

Erik couldn't help but chuckle when he saw Alyssandra's pout; she looked absolutely adorable! _She sure didn't get that pout from her mother! Christine does it differently. I wonder if that's a thing she got from me…_

No. There was nothing good that he could give to her. Absolutely nothing! She had his freakish golden eyes and his deformity. Shaking his head, deciding that he would much rather play with his daughter than to dwell on such thoughts.

Right in the middle of a tense filled match of peek-a-boo, the alarms went off and Erik immediately dawned the persona of the Phantom. He quickly took Alyssandra into the room and placing her in her crib. As soon as he did, the little girl began to cry; didn't her papa want to play with her? She was having fun, too!

"Papa! Papa!" she screamed. That usually got his attention! But when he turned back to look at her, she went quiet. This man didn't look like her papa; he wore the same clothes as her papa, but there was something about his face that made her want to cry out in fear. Where had her papa gone too? Who was the strange man standing in front of her?

"Alyssandra, be quiet for Papa. There are bad people coming into the house, sweet one, and I couldn't bear it if you got hurt so please, keep quiet." Erik explained as simply as he could. Despite her age, Alyssandra seemed to catch onto things pretty easily. He knew that she wouldn't have a problem figuring out how to stay quiet. Setting the tiny girl in her crib, he gestured for her to be silent and walked out of the bedroom quietly. Why did people have to disturb him now? Didn't the mob destroy his house enough over a year ago? Or perhaps it was Raoul, finally coming back to claim Christine as his own?

Erik couldn't risk any chances, not with his daughter in another room. He grabbed the Punjab lasso that he had kept hidden from Christine and held it, ready to put it around the unsuspecting neck of whoever was coming. _Just a little closer…come on…closer, closer…_

**And I'm going to leave it there! I think you guys can figure out on your own who is coming into the lair. Well, I'm proud to announce that I will be updating more often and that we were finally able to semi-drag Erik out of the Emo Author Corner!**

**Erik: You may have won the battle, but not the war.**

**Me: Suck it up, dude! I can't even remember why you were hiding there.**

**Christine: I thought you said something to him…I can't remember either. **

**Alyssandra: Papa corner!**

**Me: Yes, that's right! Your papa was sitting in his own special little corner! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I hope to update it soon for you guys! I love you all and remember to review! REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! Oh, and a quick thing here: I don't know how divorce went down in 19****th**** century France so I'm just gonna do my own thing…I hope that doesn't piss anyone off and if it does…well to bad!**

**^.^**


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Phantom of the Opera, Drama, Romance