Phantom of the Opera 1. Chapter 1

_A\N: Hi everyone, I just want to point out that this story is kind of dark, and I don't think it is really graphic or gross, but other people may be totally sickened, so be warned that there is some self-mutalition in here...I think that's it..._

"Christine!" Raoul de Chagny called up the winding staircase for his wife. There was no response, and he turned back around to the guests he was entertaining by himself. "I'm sure she'll be down in no time." Raoul assured his guests, smiling weakly while sitting down on a armchair. The Arch duchess Marie stirred in her seat, and muttered behind her fan,  
"That's what happens when you marry a chorus girl." A few ladies chuckled, and Raoul glared at them.

"All right Raoul," Jacques said soothingly, handing him a cigar as Christine descended the stairs.  
"I'm sorry to have kept you all waiting." She said graciously, taking a seat next to Raoul.  
"Well, now that the vicomtess has graced us with her presence, shall we continue on to the Duchess' ball?" Marie asked, standing up, and grabbing her husband's proffered arm.

"Yes let's." Raoul stood up eagerly as the guests slowly started to depart. "Shall we?" He asked Christine, offering her his elbow.  
"I just came down to tell you I won't be joining you in tonight's festivities." She gave him a weak smile.  
"Again? I worry about you Christine." Raoul sat back down, and grabbed Christine's hands tightly. She let out a choked laugh.  
"I'm not feeling like myself yet." She turned away from Raoul, and placed a hand on her stomach.  
"It wasn't your fault, don't blame yourself." Raoul whispered fiercely, his hands tightening on her shoulders. After a moment, Christine turned back around with a smile fixated on her face.

"You must go, you'll be late." She stood up, and smoothed down Raoul's collar.  
"I don't think that I should-" Christine interrupted him gently.  
"I'm fine." She reassured him, pushing him out the door. "Now you go and have fun, close some business deals, dance all night"  
"But-" Christine kissed Raoul softly, cutting him off. After a moment, she gently pulled back, and buried her face in his chest.  
"Are you sure you will be fine?" He asked tenderly.  
"Positive." Raoul wrapped his arms around her waist.  
"I love you so much." He smiled, running his hands through her long curls.  
"I know." She replied simply. And then he was gone, leaving Christine alone.

Calling briskly for the maid, Christine made her way back upstairs to the bedroom.  
"Madame?" The timid maid hovered in the doorway.  
"Come in and unlace me." Christine snapped harsher than intended. Obediently, the maid stepped forward, trembling from head to toe, and gently started tugging on the dress ties. Once she successfully got the laces undone, the maid started to pull Christine's gold dress off of her slender shoulders, when Christine shoved her away.  
"You can go home now." She ordered, and the maid bowed, and quickly exited the room. Barely hearing the door quietly shut behind her, Christine let her dress fall to the floor, revealing the hair shirt she secretly wore. The sleeveless hair shirt she wore, which acted as a corset, was to punish herself for the guilt she felt after losing her baby. Trembling slightly, she reached for the black ties, and tugged them loose. No matter what Raoul told her, she knew that it was her fault they had lost their baby. How could she carry one man's baby, when she constantly yearned for another man?

The guilt, which had wormed its way underneath her skin ever since she married Raoul, knowing that she truly didn't love him. Choking back a sob, Christine dropped to her knees, and pulled the hair shirt off of her. Glancing down at the coarse, prickly horsehairs on the inside of the shirt, Christine squeezed her eyes shut, willing the guilt to go away. Gently, Christine ran her hands over he stomach, which was now red and irritated. She almost smirked at the thought of how horrified Raoul would be if he ever saw her torso.

A fresh wave of guilt swept through her at the thought of poor trusting Raoul. She got up off of the ground, and pulled a robe over herself. Christine turned and was about to sweep out of the room, when she spotted a letter opener on the dresser. She walked over to it, and picked it up carefully. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Christine cursed herself.

"Here I am looking so whole and happy. I don't deserve to look remotely beautiful after everything that I've done." She raised the letter opener and slid it down the inside of her arm, watching the thin line of blood appear. Smiling slightly, she brought the letter opener up to her face, and slashed her cheek, and slowly started bringing the letter opener upwards, almost relishing in the sound of it ripping through tendons and scraping against bones. Christine staggered slightly, feeling a little lightheaded. Steadying herself, Christine clenched her eyes shut, and raised the letter opener again, slicing over her eyelid, and then down and across the bridge of her nose. Gritting her teeth, but still immune to the pain, she began dragging the letter opener across her cheek, digging it deep into her skin, and then shoving it upwards.

In a giddy daze, Christine started swaying back and forth, while sawing through her skin, until it reached her cheekbone. She pulled the letter opener upwards, and curved over her broad forehead, and up to her hairline. In frenzied stabs, she began slashing at her face, until drops of blood began rolling off of her face, and fell onto the thick white carpet.

Finally feeling the pain, Christine let out a inhuman scream, dropping to her knees. Breathing heavily, she struggled to regain her composure. Hands trembling, Christine tried to bring the letter opener back up to her face, but dropped it. Sobbing now, Christine brought her hands up, and started clawing at her face, and didn't stop until her vision was obscured by red.

"I'm not so pretty anymore." She whispered, as her vision started to cloud over. She fell against the dresser, and slid to the floor, and started wiping at her face. "I think I'm dying." Christine gasped, starting to crawl out of the room, leaving streaks of blood. "I have to go find Erik." She cried to herself feverishly, grabbing at the wall to help herself stand up. She slowly made her way down the stairs, and collapsed against the front door. Tottering slightly, she opened the door, and stumbled out into the cold night air. It was snowing, and Christine dragged her way blindly across the snow covered road, numb to the coldness. She didn't know how far she had gotten, when she keeled over in the middle of the road, and darkness had overcome her senses.

The snow was spiraling downwards as Erik made his way back to the Opera House after some shopping. Tripping over a solid object which was half buried in the snow, Erik fell to the ground, scattering his parcels.

"What the hell?" He murmured, gathering up his parcels, and shaking the snow off of them. Grabbing for the last parcel, his hand bumped into something stiff and cold. Curious, Erik began to brush the snow off, to reveal a pair of legs. "Oh my god." Erik leaned over and brushed some more snow off, revealing Christine's frozen pale gashed face. "Oh my god, Christine!" Erik screamed, grabbing her by the waist, and pulling her up to his chest. "It's ok, you're ok." He started babbling, cradling her unmoving body. He pushed her frozen hair out of her face, and registered the fact that there were slashes all along her face. "What did you do?" He asked her, pressing her stiff face to his chest. "It's ok, it doesn't change anything." He started to sob quietly. Erik turned her face up, and gently kissed her on her unmarred lips. "I still love you." He whispered fiercely, pressing his face into the frozen strands of her hair.

After what seemed like an eternity, Erik picked Christine up in his arms, and resumed his walk back to his Opera House.


	2. Chapter 2

"Christine? Christine?" Christine winced slightly, as she was awoken by a male's voice call her gently. Her eyes were swollen shut, and her entire face felt as though it was on fire. Attempting to move her arm, she found that it was pinned swiftly to her side. "Erik?" Christine managed to open her eyes to mere slits, and Erik's face swam in and out of focus. Trying to sit up, Christine opened her lips to talk, but they seemed glued together, and she fell back against the pillows dizzily. Feeling slight pressure against her face, Christine meekly reopened her eyes, and saw that Erik was gazing at her with utmost concern.  
"Thank God you're all right, I thought for awhile you were dead." He said, feeling her skin. "You're still cold as ice." Erik murmured, tucking the blankets more tightly around Christine. Testing her mobility, Christine stretched her legs, causing them to rub up against some hot water bottles. "I was so scared there for awhile." Erik muttered half to himself and half to Christine, while stroking her hair. Christine shrunk away from his touch, and Erik immediately pulled his hand away from her. "Never fear, you will be back to your fiancé once you are strong enough." He remarked briskly. Ignoring him, Christine attempted to gather control of her thoughts.

"Just breathe." She said soothingly to herself, glancing down at herself, and noticed that she was no longer wearing her robe.  
"This isn't the dress that I was wearing before I ended up here." She remarked, gritting her teeth against the pain throbbing against her temples.  
"Don't be stupid, I wasn't going to let you lie in bed wearing a damp robe." Erik snapped irritably.  
"You undressed me?" Christine gasped.  
"Don't worry; I didn't sneak a peek at your goodies." Erik smirked, and there was a long pause. "What happened to your face?" He finally asked.  
"I fail to see how that is any of your business." Christine stirred uneasily underneath the thick coverlet.  
"I would call it common curiosity to ask how a woman's face got slashed multiple times." Erik arched one eyebrow, as Christine moved uncomfortably.  
"I am leaving." She stated, attempting to get up, but Erik pushed her backwards.  
"Christine, you almost froze to death, you're not going anywhere until you fully recover. Now I know it will seem like an eternity spending more time with a demon like myself, so why don't you get some rest to make time go by faster." He patted Christine's hand briefly, before leaving her alone in a small dark room.

Hours later, Christine was abruptly pulled out of her slumber by the sounds of Erik pounding furiously on his organ. Groaning, Christine rubbed at her swollen face. Running her hands over the bumps of her cuts and felt the dried blood caked against her cheeks, Christine let out a cry as her face began throbbing unbearably. The organ noise stopped, as Christine started crying.  
"What am I going to do?" She asked herself, as her breath started to hitch, and the sobs started wracking her body. "I can stand to live any longer." Christine squeezed her eyes shut, and started wailing, as there was a slight cough from the doorway. Looking up, she saw Erik standing nonchalantly in the doorway. Letting out a cry, Christine buried her head underneath the coverlet. "How long have you been standing there? Don't look at me, I am all blotchy." She sniffled.  
"I afraid my dear that now that your face is a bit battered, blotchiness shouldn't be a problem to you anymore." Erik commented, as Christine let out another wail.  
"I hate you!" She burst out, as Erik clutched at his heart in mock hurt.  
"Well it's true, now if you would just tell me what happened to your face." Erik said, stepping into the room.  
"Nothing." Christine said defiantly, while Erik let out a snort of disbelief.  
"Your face looks like someone slashed it over and over; now tell me who did this to your face!" He ordered, grabbing Christine's shoulders, and shaking her wildly.  
"I did it! There are you happy? I cut my face open, is that what you wanted to hear?" She let out a shriek.  
"What would ever posses you to do something like that to yourself?" He asked gently. Christine started shaking her head, crying to hard to speak.  
"I-I don't know, my whole life is one big lie. People look at me and see a pretty face, and I can't handle that or anything else anymore, so that's why I did what I did." She collapsed against Erik's chest, who tentatively put his arms around her. Gradually Christine's sobs started to subside, and Erik started to pull away from her, but Christine held him close to her.  
"No don't go." She heaved a great breath and lay back down on the bed, taking Erik along. "I don't want to live a lie anymore; I just want to be happy." She whispered, closing her eyes, and wrapping her arms around Erik's neck. "Please sing for me." She asked tenderly, nestling her head next to a shocked Erik.  
"I, uh, ahem." Erik coughed slightly, a tad bit nervous at being so close to the object of his affection. Tightening his grasp on her, Erik started to croon softly, feeling Christine relax gently next to him. Once the song was over, Erik glanced over at Christine, who was sound asleep.

"Christine?" Raoul asked, stepping into his house. "Christine, are you awake?" He slipped on the doorway, and fell on all fours. "Ow, dammit." He hissed, rubbing his hands through the substance that was on the marble floor. "What the-?" He brought his hands up to his face, and to his chagrin saw that his hands were streaked with blood. "Oh my god. Christine!" He hollered standing up, and rushing towards their bedroom, where more blood was pooled on the floor. "Dammit, I knew I shouldn't have left you here!" He moaned, clasping his face in his hands. "Did someone take you from here with force?" He asked himself piteously. "Fuck, of course! That damned Phantom." Raoul slammed his fist against the wall. "Oh God, if he did any serious damage to you while kidnapping you Christine, I swear to god I will kill him with my own hands, and I know just where to find him." Raoul started running back out of the house, and towards the Opera House.


	3. Chapter 3

_Just some old stuff I found, and thought to update_

Reaching the double doors of the Opera House, Raoul heaved them open, and strode in importantly. Raoul recognized the grand surroundings of the Great Hall, but he had no idea as how to gain access into the Phantom's lair. "Now which way did Madame Giry lead me?" He mused to himself, pacing back and forth. "Ah well, I'll just have her take me down once again." Raoul stated matter-of-factly, jogging off in pursuit to find Mme Giry. Having only taken a few steps Raoul bumped into a rushing Meg. Letting out a cry, she fell backwards, landing on her butt.  
"Oh, Meg!" Raoul exclaimed, genuinely enthused to see the young dancer. "Where is your mother?" He inquired, helping her to her feet.

"My mother has passed away of consumption six months ago, God rest her soul." Meg said, bowing her head.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Raoul said, as Meg continued past him. "No, wait Meg!" He cried, running up to her. "Meg, that night that Christine was abducted, you went down to the Phantom's lair, right?"

"Yes." Meg replied coolly.  
"Do you remember the way?"  
"Yes." Meg's curiosity began to spark.  
"Then take me there." Raoul ordered, gesturing for Meg to lead the way.

Shifting slightly, Erik cautiously rolled away from Christine, careful not to wake her as he clambered out of bed. Leaning over, Erik covered her with the thick coverlet, and walked out of the room silently. Taking a look at surroundings, Erik stepped into the main room of his lair, Erik suddenly felt as if the walls were closing in on him, and his breathing began to sound constricted.  
"I have to get out of here." He muttered. Trusting that Christine would be fine, Erik left his lair, and began his way up to the ground level of the Opera House. Taking a side passage in a wall, Erik started walking in silence, absorbed in his own thoughts, when he heard two voices.

"I think this is the right way." Meg was saying. "Now, will you tell me why you want to come back down here?"  
"I know that this Phantom kidnapped Christine, and took her down here as a prisoner, and when I find him, I am going to kill him." Raoul answered vehemently.

"Oh, 'kidnapped?'" Erik smirked at the skepticism in Meg's voice.  
"Pipe down and keep leading." Raoul replied briskly. Turning around, Erik returned to his lair. Rushing back into Christine's room, she pushed her awake.

"Christine, it's time to go." He whispered softly. Groaning, Christine feebly opened her eyes.  
"Wh-what? Why?" She asked, yawning widely.  
"Because your husband is on his way down here with plans to exterminate me."  
"He what?" Christine exclaimed, instantly alert.  
"So we should probably leave." Erik paused. "Unless you'll let me kill him, can I kill him?" He asked, starting to brighten up.  
"No!" Christine exclaimed sitting up.  
"All right, let's go." Erik pulled Christine to her feet, and still wrapped in the coverlet, she slowly toddled after him. Pressing something hidden in the wall under a tapestry, a mirror opened up to a dark passage. "Ready?" He turned around, to see Christine turn white as a sheet, and slid to the floor. "Damn it, Christine!" He rushed over to her, and picked her up as if she was a rag doll.

"I'm fine." She muttered as he carried her through the doorway, and it closed behind them. "Why have we stopped?" Christine managed to ask, as he turned around to watch the action through the double sided mirror.

"You see, Raoul is a "point and click" sort of guy, when he sees that no one is here, he will jump to the conclusion that no one has lived here since the fire." Erik stated.  
"Don't make fun of Raoul, he is a magnificent man." Christine said haughtily. "Ow!" She let out an indignant cry as she was dropped heavily down on her feet.

"My hand slipped." Erik grinned at Christine, before staring outside of the double mirror. "Well here is your magnificent husband himself." Erik pointed, and Christine watched Raoul and Meg stumble out of an opening in the wall.  
"That was a great wild goose chase you led me on, Madame Giry got me here in one piece." Raoul spat angrily at Meg, panting as he fell against the wall.

"Quit complaining, I got you here didn't I?" Meg asked, gesturing their surroundings. Raoul was instantly on the guard.  
"Christine?" He called hoarsely, walking with some trepidation around the room.  
"I don't think anyone is here." Meg commented. "I mean I think that the Phantom left after the whole fire."

"Can't be too certain." Raoul ran into an adjacent room. "Maybe you're right." He said, looking disappointed as he reemerged from the room. "This place looks deserted. Well he must be in Paris somewhere." Raoul said with a determined air. "All right, maybe we should go, I'll find him somewhere. Lead the way back into the living Meg, without killing the both of us." He ordered, gesturing for Meg to leave.

"And there you go." Erik smirked at Christine. "He won't bother to come back down here again, even though it's quite obvious that this place has been recently inhabited."  
"Just let me back into my bed, the sooner I get out of here the better." She muttered angrily.  
"Oh Christine, one minute you are all 'hold me touch me', and the next you're begging to go back to your dull life, speaking of which, how will everyone respond to your new face?" Erik asked casually, tapping the wall, and ushering Christine back into the lair. Not bothering to respond, she brushed by him, and clutching the coverlet to her, waddled back into her bedroom.


	4. Chapter 4

"So where are you going to look for Christine next?" Meg asked Raoul as they parted ways.  
"I don't know." He mused mostly to himself. "Meg, can I ask you for a favor?" Raoul asked, struck by a sudden idea.  
"Hmm?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.  
"If for some reason the Phantom comes back to the Opera House, or if you see him slinking around Paris, I want you to contact me at once so I can find him and kill him." He finished importantly. Seeing Meg's doubtful face, Raoul threw her a small bag of money.

"You carry bags of money around?" She asked, catching the money easily. "All right, I'll look out for him, and report back to you."  
"Good." He said, and walked out of the Opera House.

"I'm not going back."  
"Pardon?" Erik turned around to see Christine standing behind him solemnly.  
"You heard me. You said that in no time I would be going back to Raoul, well I don't want to go back to him."  
"Oh yeah, and where are you going to live?" Erik asked, with polite curiosity.  
"Here with you." She stated, walking towards him. "You may be a jackass at times, but I'm not leaving you again."  
"Well, ahem, now that we have that cleared up." Erik resumed playing a symphonic like piece, but stopped when Christine put her arms around his neck. "Go back to bed Christine." He muttered.

"You are impossible." Christine said, with something of a snarl in her voice, pushing herself away from Erik, who turned around with mild interest. "You wonder why you're rotting down here alone, it's because you never let anyone get close enough to you." She near shouted at his face, and in a huff stormed back into her room.  
"Huh." Erik turned back to his organ with something of a grin on his face.

Once securely locked in her bedroom, Christine found a book, and began reading it disinterestedly. Only a couple of minutes passed, when Erik's shadow darkened her doorway.  
"What do you want?" She asked haughtily.

"It looks funny when you do the ice bitch look when your face isn't as lovely as it used to be." Erik remarked, leaning against the wall. Christine let out a hiss of some sort, and climbed her way out of the bed, and attempted to walk by him, when Erik grabbed her by the arm. "You need to learn not to take everything so seriously Christine. Now that you don't have good looks to fall back on, you need to take more of a cynical view on the world." Casually he shrugged his shoulders, "worked for me."  
"Let me go." Christine whispered fiercely.  
"Fine." Erik let her hand drop to her side.  
"I mean let me out of here. I changed my mind; I don't want to spend another second down here with you." Christine spat at him.  
"Oh yeah? Where would you go?" Erik asked.  
"Back to my husband!" She yelled vehemently. "I know he would love me no matter how I look."

"You can't leave." Erik said, his voice started to get slightly louder.  
"You can't stop me!" Christine screamed, completely hysterical, breaking down and sobbing. Rolling his eyes slightly, Erik pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to the wailing Christine. "No." She attempted to push it away.  
"Just take it Christine, your nose is unfortunately dripping everywhere." Erik remarked with a edge of disdain to his voice.  
"At least I have a nose." She shot at him. Seeing him glare at her, Christine quickly protected her face, and started trembling.

"I've had just about enough of you." He grabbed her by the shoulders, and forced her to look at him. "You want to go crawling back to your husband be my guest, God knows it'll do me a favor." He snarled at her, and then swung her around, and pushed her back into her room.  
"Hey-" Christine started to scream out a scream of indignation, but before she could articulate anything, Erik slammed the door on her face with savage vindication.


	5. Chapter 5

_more old stuff that I wrote about two years ago_

Once the door slammed behind Christine, the lair turned deathly silent. Too tired, and somewhat too scared to argue anymore, she flopped onto the bed, and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

When she finally did wake up, everything was still silent and still, almost to a point of unnerving her dreadfully. Creeping cautiously out of the room, Christine searched the place for Erik. Noticing a shadow, Christine prepared to run back in her room rather than face Erik again. But seeing that the shadow wasn't moving, she took a step forward, and saw that the shadow was indeed Erik, but he was asleep, draped halfway on a chair, and halfway on the stone ground. Rushing slightly, Christine ran over to his limp body, and gently eased him into her arms. Noticing that his mask was slightly ajar, she pulled it off, no longer having the need to see his face hidden, when hers wasn't so different anymore.

There was a slight pause, and Erik's eyes fluttered open.  
"Hey." He murmured.  
"Hey." She said softly, smiling sadly. "It's too bad that we could never work this out. Maybe we could have lived together happily ever after, but we would kill each other, and it's for the best if I leave now, and go back to Raoul." She started to get up, but Erik pulled her back down.  
"Don't go." He asked, with a hint of pleading to his voice.  
"Ok," she whispered, her lips a few mere inches away from Erik's lips. Leaning forward, Christine spontaneously kissed him. Wrapping his arms around her, he returned the kiss fully. Eventually, Christine pulled back a bit breathless.  
"Does this mean your staying?" He asked, smirking.  
"I guess it does." She murmured.

Back at his mansion, Raoul was in a state of distress.  
"What's the matter love?" Babette the maid asked Raoul, whose face was buried in his arms.  
"Mmph." He groaned in reply.

"C'mon," Babette hoisted herself onto the table next to Raoul. "Tell Babs what's the matter."  
"Christine is gone!" He yelled, looking up, tugging on the ends of his hair. "I know that Phantom took her away, and I have no idea where to look for them. The police are no help in this matter, they laughed at me when I brought him up. Me! They laughed at me!" Raoul pointed to himself to make the point clear.

"Uh huh, well," Babette twirled her hair between her two forefingers. "To know where the Phantom is, you must think like the phantom." Leaving a small pause for Raoul to think it over, Babette got off of the table, and started to walk away. "And now I need to prepare us some supper, so if you have any more questions, I will be in the other room." Letting out a sigh of frustration, Raoul started fiddling with some loose papers strewn around the table.  
"What if he left Paris?" He mused to himself. "Maybe he took her out of France, oh I don't know." He dropped his head back onto the table.

"The Vicomtess, she wasn't born in Paris was she?" Raoul jumped a bit, and saw that Babette had returned to the room.  
"I thought you were making some food." He asked casually. "But yes, she was born in Sweden."  
"Maybe he took her there." Babette suggested, dusting the wall nonchalantly. "Bring her back to her roots, I don't know."  
"Maybe you're right." Raoul started to feel a little more enthusiastic. "I'm going to try it, I'm going to Sweden!" He jumped out of his seat, and darted out of the room. Shrugging to herself, Babette returned back to the dining room.

"So what now?" Christine asked as Erik tightened his grip around her waist.  
"What do you mean?" He asked softly.  
"Well, now that it's been decided that I am not leaving, are we actually going to stay here?" She inquired.

"Why wouldn't we stay here?"  
"I don't know, it's kind of gloomy around here." Christine put out quietly.  
"All right, fine." Erik shrugged, and starting to kiss her up her arm. Giggling slightly, Christine resumed her chatter,  
"And what about Raoul?"  
"What about Raoul?"

"Well do you except me to never contact him again?" Christine asked, pulling her arm out of Erik's grasp.  
"Hmm, yes." He replied, taking her arm back.  
"Hmph." She was silent for a moment. "All right one last question." She started up again. "What exactly is the status of our relationship now?" Erik stared at her for a moment before replying,  
"What do you want the status to be?"

"I don't know," Christine began somewhat slyly. "But once we have some kids-"  
"Whoa, what?" Erik asked in disbelief. "Who said anything about kids?"  
"Well I naturally assumed you out of all people would want to be a nurturing father and want kids."  
"I never want to have kids, nor will I ever." He answered blatantly, attempting to kiss her again.  
"Don't even try that." Christine huffed, pushing him away from her, and going back into her bedroom.  
"Why does this always happen?" Erik flopped back onto the floor defeated.


	6. Chapter 6

Hours seem to past as Christine paced her room, running her fingers along the spines of the books that were lying carelessly about. Biting back sob of frustration, Christine picked up on of the books, and started slamming it against the stone wall, until she collapsed into a little ball on the ground.

"What happened to my life?" She whispered to herself, clenching her fist into a little ball. "Why can't I accept anything, why must I be myself in these situations?"

Silently getting up from the floor, Erik starting to leave his lair.  
"Anymore of these damn arguments, and I am going lose what little sanity I have left." Letting out a huff of breath, Erik left, kicking over a stool as he went.

Hearing a bang, Christine stiffened, preparing herself for another confrontation, but when nothing happened, she slightly relaxed.

"Erik?" She called out timidly. Standing up, Christine walked out of her room, and looked around for him. "You left me in this prison alone, you bastard." She hissed. "Whoops." She covered her mouth in shock at the thought of letting a swearword slip out of her mouth. "Oh well, a clean mouth gave me no gain in this lifetime." Christine cleared her mind, and began walking in no particular direction.

"Meg?" Meg looked up from her stretching to see Raoul standing over her.

"Yes?" She asked politely, sitting on the floor to put on her pointe shoes.

"I'm going off to Sweden to see if I can find Christine there. Now," Raoul fished out a piece of paper, and handed it to a reluctant Meg. "This is the address for the house that I'm renting, if you see or hear anything, I want you to contact me immediately. Got it? Good." And he strode off importantly.  
"Moron." She scoffed silently, shoving the paper down her bodice.

"All right there monsieur?" Raoul jumped a bit as a young pale woman asked him.  
"Oh yes." He said uncertainly.

"Then would you please board the boat before it takes off?" She asked, her timid face transforming into a mask of impatience.  
"Patience is a virtue." Raoul muttered, stepping aside to let the woman get past him. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, down the boarding ramp, Raoul silently bid Paris farewell, and stepped into the boat and towards the next step to finding Christine.

Sighing heavily, Erik returned slowly back to his lair laden with parcels. Stopping suddenly, he tensed as he heard music flow from his organ. Granted it was anything special, but it was almost passable, Erik noted to himself. Dropping the parcels, he continuing walking until he was right behind Christine. Sensing that he was behind her, she stopped playing at stared straight ahead.  
"Since when could you play the organ?" He asked.  
"Since when do you care?" She replied stoically, picking at her hands.

"Well it seems that as usual, you have potential in anything liberal." Erik said, picking up her hands, and placing them back on the organ keys. "But you have to feel the music to play it correctly." Christine shuddered slightly as his hands pressed against hers, guiding her fingers to play certain keys. Closing her eyes, Christine let the music take hold of her, until she let her hands go limp. Making a noise, Christine put her hands around Erik's neck, and pulled him close to her. Swiveling in her seat, she quickly kissed him. Wrapping his arms around her, Erik hoisted Christine out of her seat, while managing to keep his lips firmly pressed against hers. Rubbing his hands down her back, Erik began playing with her buttons, when Christine pulled away.  
"No." She whispered.

"No?"  
"I can't do this; I'm still married."  
"Do you still want to be with him or not?" Erik asked, pushing Christine away from himself.  
"No!" Christine protested. "It's just that it doesn't seem right. Don't walk away from me." Christine grabbed him by the arm.

"Well you seem to have a twisted view on what's right and what's wrong." Erik commented, looking pointedly at her face.  
"I am not going to have another argument with you." Christine said. "Just give me some time."  
"Fine." Erik said turning away from her. "I'll be asleep if you need me for some unknown reason." Christine watched Erik stride off silently. Letting out a frustrated breath, Christine walked over to the lakeside to mull things over.

"I know I don't love Raoul anymore." She muttered to herself, kicking off her slippers, and lazily dipping her feet into the lake water. "But it doesn't seem right to do anything while I am still bound in marriage." Reaching up to feel the jagged swellings of her face, Christine began crying again. In the midst of her sobbing, something within the lake grabbed a hold of her foot. Letting out a scream, Christine tried to stand up, while trying to yank her foot out of the icy grasp. Screaming and sobbing hoarsely, Christine managed to wrench her foot away, and in doing so, she fell backwards, slamming her head against the concrete wall, and she slumped unconsciously onto the cold floor.


	7. Chapter 7

Back in his room, Erik took his violin out, and lovingly began drawing the bow across its strings, when Christine's scream echoed throughout the air.

"What now?" He muttered, getting up from his bed, and starting towards the sound of Christine's voice. "Christine?" He called. There was silence, and another scream rang out. Picking up the pace, Erik rounded the corner, and saw Christine slumped over. "Oh God, what have you done now?" Erik rushed over to Christine's limp body, and picked her up carefully, and began walking to her bedroom. Stirring slightly, Christine feebly opened her eyes, and moaned slightly, then screamed. In shock, Erik almost dropped her.

"Help me!" She shrieked, thrashing wildly.  
"Calm down." Erik said, dropping her onto her bed. Letting out another shriek, Christine sat up, trembling all over. "What is the matter with you?" Erik asked, leaning towards her.  
"Something grabbed me!" She screamed, gesturing wildly.  
"What?"

"Your stupid lake, I had my feet in there-"  
"Wait why were your feet in the lake?" Erik asked.  
"I don't know, I was just dipping them-"  
"That lake isn't very clean to be dipping feet in." Erik began pacifically.  
"Would you be quiet!?" Christine screeched, hitting him in the arm with a pillow. "Something underneath your lake grabbed my ankle, and I hit my head in an attempt to get away."

"Apparently these dead bodies I keep throwing in the lake aren't actually dead." Erik mused to himself.  
"That's not remotely funny." Christine huffed, lying back on her bed. Getting up to leave, Erik was halfway out of the room, when Christine called him back. "Wait! Don't go."  
"Afraid the siren might come and get you?" Erik smirked, walking back to her.  
"I just don't want to be alone right now." She said, opening her arms apart.  
Tentatively, Erik walked into her open arms, and she pulled him close to her.  
"Uh," Erik started patting her hair nervously. "My god, you're shivering."  
"I'm so cold." Christine moaned slightly.

"Here, I have something that will cure your shaking." Erik started to get up, but Christine pushed him back.  
"I'll go get it; I can't stand lying around uselessly anymore. Now where is this thing that will warm me up?" Christine inquired, walking out of her room.  
"It should be in a small cupboard near the organ." Christine heard Erik call after her. Trotting over to the cupboard, Christine opened it up to see two green colored bottles. Picking up one randomly, Christine tugged at the cork, and smelled the liquid gingerly.

"Phew." She coughed. "This smells awful, and like something that I just can't put my finger on." Shrugging slightly, Christine swigged a sip of the drink, and almost spewed it all over the place. "Ack, this is the most vile tasting drink ever." She announced, stepping back into her bedroom.  
"That's because that's the wrong bottle, that's alcohol." Erik pointed out helpfully, gesturing for Christine to give him the bottle.  
"No." Christine whined, pulling the bottle out of his reach. "This is helping with my shivers." She took another gulp. "Once you get past the terrible taste, it's quite nice."  
"You're contradicting yourself." Erik said. "But this is interesting, so let's see where this goes."

3 Hours Later

"Oh my God!" Christine burst into laughter, shuffling pages of Erik's music. "This organ is very pretty." She draped herself across the keys, which emitted some harsh sounds.  
"All right Christine," Erik rushed over to her. "You are going to blame me for the size of your headache tomorrow, so it's time for bed." He wrapped his arm around her waist, and began helping her back to her room, when she shoved him away.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" She insisted, wobbling slightly. "Ssshrem?" She asked, slurring her words together.  
"I cannot believe that the young innocent Christine Daae is drunk." Erik covered his mouth as Christine did a little pirouette midair. "All right." Erik, picked up Christine, and strode into her bedroom.  
"Me, mah, meh, me mo." She began singing, as Erik dropped her onto her bed.  
"You all right Christine? How are you doing?" Erik asked, wiping her damp hair out of her eyes. Christine grunted in reply. "All right, I'm going to go now." Erik said, but Christine grabbed his sleeve, and pulled him unceremoniously onto the bed next to her.

"Just stay here." She murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pushing herself three inches away from his face. "You know I love you." She whispered.  
"Go to sleep." Erik patted her arm, while getting out of the bed, and tucking the bed spread around Christine's limp form. "This is not going to be to a pretty sight tomorrow." He shook his head somewhat sadly, and left her room.  
Once he reached his own room, Erik slumped down in a hard backed chair, when Christine burst into his room.  
"What are you doing? You're supposed to be sleeping."  
"I couldn't sleep without you, and 'my room' is ugly, I like it here." Christine tottered over to Erik, and sat on his lap.  
"Oh all right, if that's what you want, and God knows I can't refuse whatever you want." Erik easily hoisted her up into his arms, and carried her over to his hard cot-like bed. Laying her down gently, Erik awkwardly got in next to her. Throwing her arms around him, Christine snuggled against him, propping her head against his chest, and she soon fell asleep. However, Erik was awake for many more hours to come.


	8. Chapter 8

First there was silence, and then there were sounds of a million drills going straight to Christine's head. Wincing, Christine opened her eyes to see Erik get out of bed.

"Durr." She groaned, clutching at her head. Every movement she made felt as if she was going to throw up a moment later.  
"How's my little Christine doing?" Erik smirked at her.

"What did you do to me?" She snarled, throwing the covers over her head, as to avoid any particle of natural light hitting her body.  
"You got drunk last night, and I didn't do anything to you." Erik's mocking voice grated into her head.  
"Impossible." Christine stood up in anger. "I don't get drunk."

"Well you did last night, and you told me some interesting secrets about you."  
"What?" Christine covered her mouth in shock.  
"You told me," Erik sounded as if he couldn't contain his laughter. "You told me that sometimes while in the middle of making love with Raoul, sometimes you get the urge to burst into peals of laughter."

"No!" Christine gasped. "That's not proper talk, that's just dirty. You!" She pointed an accusing finger at Erik. "This is your entire fault." She flopped back against the bed, trying to ignore the painful thumping in her head.

"I suppose you could say that." Erik sounded highly amused. Furious, Christine tried to stand up, but got entangled in the bed sheets, and fell to the floor. Making no move to help her, Erik roared with laughter. Swallowing back the vomit that threatened to come spilling out, Christine stumbled to her feet and haughtily swept out of the room. There was a moment of silence that was interrupted by the sounds of Christine vomiting.

Smiling slightly, Erik went to go see how Christine was faring. "Don't worry darling, I'll clean up after you." Christine looked up at threw him a look of utmost loathing, and then crawled the rest of the way to her room.

Fully exhausted, Raoul stepped off of the boat onto Swedish soil.  
"Here I am." He smiled tiredly. "This is the place where I can find Christine." Looking around the place, Raoul had no idea as where to begin his search for Christine. But first, Raoul trudged to the house that he had already pre-rented. Finding it with no trouble, Raoul walked in the brick house to be greeted by a young curly haired woman.

"No doubt you're the vicomte." She made a tiny curtsy.  
"Yes, and you are?" Raoul asked, handing his bags over.  
"My name is Giselle, I'm the housekeeper." She took his bags and flounced away.  
"How familiar are you with our surroundings?" Raoul called after her.  
"Well Uppsala is a big city, but I know everyone in this small part of Uppsala." Giselle remarked, leading Raoul into the drawing room.

"Do you know if anyone new has moved in nearby?" Raoul inquired excitedly.  
"Well across the road, a older gentleman moved in with a younger woman, I think she was his daughter." Giselle said pensively, and Raoul let out a snort of disbelief.  
"She wasn't his daughter." He muttered darkly, and Giselle arched an eyebrow questioningly.  
"Why the interest monsieur?" She asked.  
"It's a long story." Raoul said hastily. "Now where do they live?"

A few moments later, Raoul purposely made his way to the house where Giselle directed him to. With a gun safely packed away in the waistband of his pants, Raoul was confident that he would be reunited with Christine in less than two hours. Preparing for immediate confrontation, Raoul opened the front door, and gazed inside expectantly. Seeing nothing at first, Raoul looked around for any clues. The dinner table caught his eye, and Raoul cautiously walked over. The table was set for dinner, and none of the food was touched.

"Somebody left in a hurry." He mused to himself, poking around some papers strewn about. Seeing one, made him swear and rush out of the house.

"I don't remember leaving the front door open father." A young girl named Belle told her father, stepping anxiously into their house.  
"Don't worry honey, I must have left it open by mistake." Her father said reassuringly. "Now let's finally get down to our dinner."

Giselle was plumping the pillows when Raoul burst in the room in a fit.  
"Vicomte?" She asked, a little shocked.  
"I'm leaving Sweden for Germany!" He announced.

"Excuse me?" Giselle asked, a little taken aback. "You only just got here a second ago."  
"I know and it's hard to explain, but I saw something, and it might be a clue I don't know." Raoul babbled. "And I would do anything to get Christine back."  
"Christine?" Raoul was met with a blank stare.

"I know that you are only a housekeeper Giselle, but if you could make the arrangements for me to get to Germany, I would greatly appreciate it." Raoul clapped her briefly on the shoulder, and left Giselle in a state of shock.

Back in her room, Christine was silently playing with the bedspread when Erik appeared in the doorway. Staring at each other, neither one of them said anything. And for the first time since Christine cut up her face, she listened to her heart instead of her head. Getting up, she walked over to him, and grabbed his head, and began kissing him passionately. Only taken aback for a moment, Erik wrapped his arms around her, and started carrying her back towards her bed.


	9. Chapter 9

Waking up nestled next to Erik, Christine turned over on her side and grabbed a dressing gown, which was hanging off a chair, and slid it over her petite frame. Glancing over at Erik, she watched him sleep silently, when the voices inside her head began shooting through her head.  
"Adulterous whore."

"Mmph." Christine sat up in her bed, clutching at the sides of her head, attempting to shut out the voices in her head. "Conniving little slut." Another voice tauntingly rang through her head. One right after another, the voices cluttered in her head, until in desperation, Christine screamed,  
"Stop it!"

"Whazza?" Erik shot straight up, and rolled off of the bed in shock. "Are you ok?" He asked wearily, as his head appeared next to the bed.  
"I'm fine, just a nightmare." Christine forced a small chuckle. Closing her eyes, Christine lay back against the pillow.

"You don't look so well." Christine dimly heard Erik's voice.  
"I'm fine." Christine gritted her teeth. "I just need fresh air."  
"Fresh air?"

"I need to go outside, I can't stay cooped up in here all day." Christine muttered, and opened her eyes to see Erik staring at her searchingly. "What?" She asked.  
"Nothing." Erik said. "If you want to go outside, go right ahead. There was a short silence, broken by Christine.  
"Well, can you leave, so I can put some proper clothes on?" She asked, and Erik turned and walked out of the room.

An hour later, Christine was fully dressed, and after Erik led her to the above ground, she instinctively breathed in a fresh gulp of air.

"Isn't it so nice to be outside in the sunlight more often?" She turned to Erik, but he had disappeared from view. Shrugging slightly, she continued on her way happily. After not seeing any natural light for what seemed like ages, this little excursion was almost like a blessing to Christine. Fighting the urge to skip, Christine started walking in no particular direction. People were milling about, and a little ball rolled in front of Christine, followed closely by a young boy.

Her heart filled with emotion, Christine had always wanted a child. Reaching out for the ball, Christine tried to hand it to the little boy.

"Here you go sweetheart." She smiled sweetly at the boy, whose face turned an ashy gray color, and he ran off without his ball. Not understanding at first, Christine touched her face, and comprehension flooded her. "Of course!" She thought to herself. From time to time, her face would throb uncomfortably, but there was no mirror down in the lair, and for the most part, Christine had almost forgotten about the state of her face. Just thinking about her face, brought back the memory of how it came to be the way it was. Her happiness evaporated on the spot, and Christine turned around, and headed back to the Opera House, with her face glued to the ground, so no bystanders could see her face.

Reaching the point where Erik dropped her off, Christine realized with shock that she had no idea as how to get back inside the Opera House.

"Dammit!" She cried, wiping her hands across the wall, looking hopefully for a variation in the structure. Finding nothing, she threw a darting glance from side to side, and slipped inside the front doors. Letting out a sigh of relief when she didn't see anything, Christine picked up her pace and started her way down to the basement of the Opera House.

Hurrying along the corridors, Meg attempted to slip on her Pointe shoes and run at the same time. Almost tripping, Meg stopped and looked up, and gasped in shock.

"Christine?" She called along the corridor to the back of a dark haired woman. The woman stiffened, and immediately began running. Bemused, Meg began walking at a slower pace. "I was sure that was Christine," she mused to herself. "But why would she run away from me?" Thinking of Raoul, she debated with herself on whether or not to tell him about this. "Well it might not even have been her, but if it was, she might be trouble. I suppose I could tell him just in case." She finally resolved as a dancer burst into view hissing madly.

"Meg! Come on, you're late, you're going to be skinned alive!" She gestured wildly.  
"Coming," Meg followed her, and promptly forgot all about Christine and Raoul.

Trudging back to the basement, Christine was wallowing in self-pity.  
"It's your own fault; you're the one who knifed yourself." The voice in her head reminded her. "Shut up, shut up, shut up." She hissed to herself. "I had to do what I thought was best."  
"And it was not the best choice." The voice answered back.  
"It was, or else I wouldn't have ended up back here." Christine said to herself, as she realized she was sloshing her way through the lake. Jumping back in shock, Christine turned around, and made a dryer path to Erik's house.

Finally Christine made her destination, and she stood in the middle of the room stiffly, until Erik walked by.  
"Well that was fast-" he started, "what's the matter?"  
"I just don't like the outdoors." Christine's face crumbled, and she began crying. Swaying slightly, she fell backwards, and was caught by Erik.

"Shh, it's ok." He murmured, stroking her hair. Tightening her grip around her waist, Christine said in-between sobs,  
"I'm so messed up, I don't even know what's wrong with me."  
"You're not messed up." Erik whispered, and he rocked her back and forth until she fell silent.


	10. Chapter 10

Waking up with a start, Christine slowly sat up, and looked at her surroundings, slightly surprised to find herself back in her bedroom. Falling back against her pillows Christine pulled the covers back over her head. Inhaling, Christine got a whiff of a fresh smell that reminded her of the great outdoors, and immediately felt nauseated. Attempting to get out of her room, Christine tripped, and landed heavily on the floor, and promptly vomited. There was a moment of silence, and then Erik walked in.  
"I thought I heard something, are you ok?" He bent down towards Christine.  
"I feel ill." She closed her eyes feebly.

"Here." Erik hoisted her up in his arms, and began carrying her back to her bed. "Try to sleep it off. Do you need anything?" He asked, brushing her hair off of her face.  
"Mm, I would like some Scandinavian chocolate." Christine perked up a little.  
"Some what?" Erik asked, taken aback.

"That would be so great right now." Christine smiled a little dreamily.  
"Um, all right."  
"And if you could hurry, I would greatly appreciate it." Christine called as he left the room. "Hmm, I feel a little better." She remarked to herself, and fell back asleep.

Hours later, Christine was rudely awakened by Erik bustling into her room.  
"I found it." He announced excitedly.  
"Found what?" Christine asked crossly.

"The chocolate you wanted, it took me forever to find genuine Scandinavian chocolate but I found it." Erik presented the chocolate to her.  
"I don't want it anymore." Christine turned her back to him.  
"This is an awkward sort of illness that you have got going on." Erik commented, in a slightly disbelieving tone as he exited her room again.

Christine passed another restless, moody week, when she discovered she was pregnant. At the time of the revelation, Christine was alone in her room. Feeling a little overwhelmed; her primary reaction was ecstasy. Falling backwards, she began stroking her stomach.

"I finally get to have the baby that I always dreamed about." Christine whispered to herself, smiling, when a second thought rushed through her head, causing her to sit up in shock. "Erik hates kids." She realized, biting on her fingernail. Frightened that he would get angry with her and blame her, Christine pulled her knees to her chest, and began worrying to herself.

Shutting her eyes, Christine tried to think rationally, when her door flew open, and Erik walked in, causing Christine to cry out in shock.  
"What's the matter with you?" He asked, inspecting her face suspiciously.  
"Nothing." She said, her voice rising several octaves in her anxiety.  
"You sure have been acting strangely lately."  
"It's just that-" Christine faltered.

"Tell him tell him." She tried pepping herself up. "No don't tell him." She immediately contradicted herself.  
"I'm pregnant, and I know you hate kids, and I'm scared that you will be angry with me." Christine cried out, pressing her hands against her eyes, and Erik immediately went over and hugged her. She wrapped her arms around him fiercely. "You're not mad?" She asked hopefully.

"Of course I'm not." He whispered, burying his face in her shoulder. "Everything is going to be great from now on, I promise."

3 Years Later

"Mama?" Christine looked up from the novel she was reading to see her young son totter unsteadily on his feet. Smiling, she rushed over to him.  
"Oh Lucas what are you doing still up?"  
"Not tired." Lucas pouted slightly.

"Come on, it's time to go to bed." Christine hoisted him up in her arms, and starting carrying him to his room. "Now try to be a good boy, and get some rest." She whispered, tucking him into his bed.  
"Sing." He ordered, as his little fists clutched on the front of Christine's dress.

"You know your father does that better that I can." She said smiling slightly, but nonetheless, she knelt down, and began singing softly. As she reached the last note, she noticed that he had fallen asleep. Grinning to herself, Christine got up to leave the room, and once she got to the doorway, she turned back around to glance back at little Lucas. Sighing, she leaned against the wall, and emitted a shriek of shock as the wall opened behind her, and she toppled into darkness.

"I cannot believe that I am twenty-three and still a member of the ballet corps." Meg grumbled to herself, as she made her way to the stage by herself in the middle of the night. "I wasn't even the worst one out there, but of course I have to go practice by myself in the dead of the night." She snarled to herself, crossing her arms, and she started sprinting over to the stage.

Once Christine was wrapped in darkness, she stretched her arms out in an attempt to find the trap that would lead her back to Erik's lair. Taking a few apprehensive steps forward, Christine's eyes slowly adjusted to the complete darkness, and she began eagerly following the path in hopes that it would lead her somewhere worthwhile.

After what seemed like hours, Christine found a small wooden door, and opened it gingerly. Blinking stupidly against the sudden brightness, she found that she was backstage.

Hearing a loud clanging noise, Meg stopped mid-pirouette, and looked to see where the source of the noise came from. Careful not make any noise herself, Meg peered between the heavy velvet curtains, and saw Christine. Pressing her fist against her lips in order to prevent a cry escape from her, Meg gaped in wonder at Christine's distorted face. Sensing that someone was watching her Christine completely turned around, and Meg whipped her face back, breathing heavily.

"Christine!" Meg turned around warily to see the Phantom rush towards Christine, and cover his arms around her. Watching in slight disbelief as led her away, Meg tried to gather her thoughts.  
"So all this time, Christine was in Paris." She mused to herself. "And maybe Raoul was right; maybe she was held here by force." Still shaken up over the state of Christine's face, Meg decided that it was time to pay Raoul a visit.

"How did you know where I was?" Christine managed to ask, as Erik hurriedly led her back into a passage.  
"I saw you disappear, and tried to take a shortcut."  
"Fair enough." She replied, and wrapped her arm around his waist

Babette the maid opened the door to see a young girl in ballet clothing, hopping around anxiously.  
"Yes?" She inquired politely.

"Um, is the vicomte in?" The girl asked.  
"No, he hasn't been in Paris in three years." Babette reminisced slightly.  
"He's still in Sweden?" The girl exploded.

"Oh, heavens no, I think he's in Romania right now." Babette paused, thinking hard. "Yes he's in Romania, he sends me letters every so often, and he thinks that he's following clues that are leading to his wife." The girl snorted derisively.

"Can I come in?" Babette stepped aside, and she strode in importantly.

"My name is Meg Giry, and I would like to contact the vicomte at once, do you have anything I could write on?" Meg asked, twisting her hair nervously. Babette nodded, and dutifully fetched some parchment and a quill. Hurriedly scrawling a note, Meg handed Babette the parchment urgently.  
"Make sure you send it to him immediately." She gave the slightest curtsey, and flounced out of the house, leaving Babette bustling around, searching for Raoul's address


	11. Chapter 11

The sun streamed through the window, awakening Raoul from his slumber. Groaning, Raoul ran his hand over his unshaven face. The three years had changed Raoul into a drawn and haggard man. Becoming more restless, he had lost all reason to live, and became increasingly ruthless in finding his Christine.  
"Monsieur?" Raoul looked up to see a maid come in his room brandishing a letter.  
"Mmm?" Raoul disinterestedly grabbed the letter, and scanned the crabbed handwriting. "Oh my god!" He shot up immediately, upsetting the bed covers. Pushing past the maid, he burst out of the room excitedly.

Christine was sleeping when Lucas burst into the room crying wildly.  
"What's wrong honey?" She asked blearily, rolling over.  
"There's a bad man in my room." He began bawling. Attempting to clear her head, Christine picked up Lucas, and hoisted him onto her lap. Ignoring the noticeable absence of Erik next to her, Christine ran her fingers through Lucas' thick blond hair soothingly.

"Shh, you just had a bad dream." She crooned slightly, while shifting him to the left of her.  
"Where's-?" Lucas stopped and frowned slightly as though searching for a certain word.  
"Father." Christine finished for him smiling a little. "Your father." She repeated, as Lucas nodded as if confirming the fact. " I don't know where he is but everything's all right now, just try to sleep now." Christine tucked him in gently, and curled up in a ball next to him.

Meanwhile, Raoul was on a first class ship well on its way to Paris.  
"All those years, and she was always in Paris." He seethed to himself silently. Getting up angrily, he started pacing in a fit of anxiety. "It's fine," he tried to soothe his nerves. "Once you get back to Christine, everything will go back to normal, and there will be no mistakes this time." He felt his gun through his jacket and was reassured instantly.

Walking into the room he shared with Christine, Erik noticed a tiny still form next to Christine. Going to the right side of the bed, Erik placed a hand on Lucas' head and ruffled his wavy hair faintly for a moment before turning his attention to Christine.

"Christine?" Christine frowned in her sleep, and turned over. "Christine." Erik repeated, shaking her gently.  
"What?" Christine opened her eyes groggily. "Oh hello." She smiled as she saw Erik. "Where were you last evening?"  
"Just out for a walk." He said bending down, and began stroking her hair. "Anyway, I'm going to be gone for the entire day."

"Why?" Christine asked, sitting up in the bed.  
"Never you mind." Erik grinned a little, and gave her a swift kiss. Pulling him by the collar, Christine was able to return the kiss fully.

"Come on tell me." She pressed, a hint of pleading was added to her voice.  
"Well, I was thinking we should leave."  
"Leave?" Christine was a little befuddled.  
"This is no place to raise a child." Erik explained patiently. "And I figure we should look for other houses."

"No." Christine crossed her arms stubbornly. "The world is too cruel for a little boy."  
"How so, there's nothing wrong with his face." Erik helpfully pointed out.  
"No," Christine shook her head defiantly. "It's my decision, and I say no."  
"At least give a reaso-"  
"No." Christine said, her eyes flashing impatiently.  
"You are just impossible." He hissed slightly, and turned around, and stalked out.

"Momma." Christine was awakened again by Lucas tugging on the sleeve of her dressing gown.  
"Mmm, what is it Lucas?" She rolled over to face a gleeful Lucas.

"Up." He panted slightly from the exertion of pulling Christine to her feet.  
"All right sweetie." She answered kindly; grabbing his hand, and leading him back to his own room. "But first let's get dressed." Lucas nodded; his brown eyes were open with excitement. Laughing, Christine let Lucas take control as he began to lead her. Ten minutes after clothes getting thrown on the floor, and some slight arguments, Christine and Lucas emerged from his bedroom, with Christine a little bit disheveled.

"All right honey, what are you so excited to do this morning?"  
"I wanna play." He pumped his chubby little hands up and down rapidly. Christine let out a peal of laughter.

"Just like your father." She beamed to herself, but the thought of Erik brought a twinge of discomfort in her stomach. Shaking her head, Christine resolved to make it up with Erik as soon as he returned. The sounds of the organ jarred Christine from her thoughts, and she grinned at her son, and he pounded away on the keys. "Very good." She bent down next to Lucas. "You're a fast learner." She leaned her head against Lucas' shoulder and closed her eyes, until he made a mistake.

"Here honey." Christine reached over Lucas' arms, and attempted help him press the right key, when he slapped her hand away.  
"You're no good at musical abilities." He pouted slightly. "Only," he paused for a moment. "Erik can teach me."  
"Father can teach me." Christine corrected grinning.

"Monsieur?" A timid middle-aged woman shook Raoul awake.  
"Pardon?" He shot up in the stiff wooden chair.

"I thought you might like to know that while you were asleep a employee came around and told us that we were almost at the destination of Paris." She said, glancing at Raoul's pale face.  
"We're almost there?" Raoul jumped to look out the nearest window. "Finally." He breathed a sigh of relief, and smiled to himself.

That night after Christine tucked Lucas in, she turned around and began to leave, when Lucas piped up,  
"Why can't we ever leave home?"

"Why do you want to leave home?" Christine asked gently, going back over to his bed.  
"Because it's boring here, there's nothing to do; I want to do something new and exciting." Lucas pouted, crossing his arms defiantly. Sighing inwardly, Christine ruffled his hair.  
"Anything you want sweetie." She smiled a bit sadly. Giving him a slight kiss on his cheek, she left the room, closing the door behind her.

Christine spent the next few hours reading, and then a knot of anxiety would clench her stomach, and she would fling it away, and after a few moments pick it back up disinterestedly. After repeating this cycle a few times, Christine heard the splashing noises, which signified Erik's return. Almost tripping in her excitement, Christine jumped over to the edge of the lake, and saw Erik approaching. Lifting up her skirts, she leapt into the lake and sloshed her way over to him.

"Someone's a little excited." He commented, carelessly jumped off of the boat.  
"I just want to say that I agree with your suggestion about moving." She grinned, and hugged him tightly. Going up on the balls of her feet, Christine opened her eyes, and in the distance she thought she saw Raoul. Bemused, she started to pull away from Erik, when a gunshot was heard, and Erik went limp against her. Letting out a muffled scream, Christine attempted to push him away from her, so she wouldn't be crushed. Another gunshot rang out, and this time Christine let out a shrill shriek. Putting her arms around Erik's waist, she gently let him fall into the water. Sobbing, Christine fell on top of him, and began babbling uncontrollably.

"It's all right; you're going to be just fine." She frantically reassured him, while running her fingers down his back, searching to see how fatal his wound was, and began crying when she saw her fingers doused in blood. Gasping for breath, Erik pulled a hand through Christine's hair, and with one almighty convulsed, he was still. As if a dam burst from within Christine, an inhuman cry wrenched itself away from her, and she tore at her hair like a madwoman. Shaking, Christine flung her arms around Erik's neck, and buried her face into his still chest, and hugged him tightly against her.

"Christine?" Christine stiffened and when she turned around and saw Raoul holding a slightly smoking revolver, she felt the last thread of her sanity leave her. Her face screwed up, and she half rose and began beating his chest with her fists. "Oh my god, Christine." Raoul grabbed her by the waist, not comprehending the reason why Christine was losing all reason. "Your face." He gasped in shock, while staring at her malformed face, and then buried his face into her heaving shoulders. "It's all right; everything's going to be fine from now on." He crooned, rubbing her back, and Christine wailed in reply. Hearing a crash, Raoul pulled away from Christine. "Stay here." He said as gently as a man could while aiming a revolver to kill. Shuddering, Christine turned around and saw Erik floating silently by her ankles, letting out a cry, Christine closed her eyes, and memories flashed beneath her closed eyes.

"Stop, please stop!" She cried desperately, as she saw the vision of her and Erik kissing. Letting out a hideous scream, Christine's eyes rolled up into her head, and she collapsed in a heap.

At the sound of Christine screaming, Raoul almost turned back, but determined, he continued on to the source of the sound.

"Mommy?" Raoul jumped as he saw a little frightened boy hover at a doorway.  
"Sweet Jesus." Raoul breathed heavily as he took a closer look at the boy. The boy's face was unmarred, but in an eerie way, it was almost like looking at the face of Erik himself without the deformity and the exception of Christine's eyes. Anger flooded through Raoul, as his mind immediately jumped to rape. "The spawn of Satan must die." He gritted his teeth, and aimed the revolver at the wide-eyed young boy's face. Taking an uncertain step backwards, the boy repeated,  
"Mommy?" Sighing slightly, Raoul lowered the revolver. However hell-bent he was on achieving vengeance, he wasn't going to murder a defenseless little boy.

"After all," Raoul mused to himself. "I could raise him as Christine's and my baby, and he could grow up to be a dignified man. And he's young, too young to ever remember the failure of a man his real father was." Raoul smiled to himself, and reached his arms out to the little boy.

"I'm not going to harm you." The boy still looked uncertain. "What's your name?" Raoul coaxed, taking a step towards the boy.  
"Lucas." He answered after a pause.

"Well Lucas, why don't we find your mother and leave this place?" Raoul took Lucas' hand, who hesitated slightly as if something was holding him back. "Come on," Raoul began leading him away. "Christine?" Raoul called, searching for Christine, and then finally finding her floating motionless. Half-carrying Lucas, Raoul rushed over to Christine, and picked her up in his arms. "Don't worry, everything will be fine from now on." He breathed in Christine's scent, and began carrying her aboveground.  
"What's that?" Raoul turned sharply to see Lucas pointed at Erik's dead figure.

"That's nobody." Raoul hastily stepped in front of Lucas shielding his view. "Now shall we leave this place?"  
"But where's-?"  
"Outside waiting for us." Raoul swiftly cut Lucas off, who nodded slowly.

"But what about our things, and-" Lucas' face squeezed up in concentration looking for the right word, as he pounded his hands up and down rapidly.

"The organ?" Raoul guessed, his voice devoid of any emotion, and Lucas' face broke into a grin and he nodded. "Like father, like son." He thought to himself with a grimace. "We'll come back down and get everything all right?" He asked Lucas kindly; who waggled his head in reply. Although he still felt as if something was amiss, Lucas dutifully followed Raoul out of the lair.

Several Months Later

"Repeat for me please." Raoul hovered in the doorway where Lucas was currently learning from his tutor. Coughing slightly, Raoul stepped into the room.  
"Vicomte." The tutor swept into a bow.

"How's everything going?" Raoul inquired to Lucas.  
"Fine. Father." Lucas finished after a small pause.

"Good." Raoul smiled warmly, ruffling Lucas' hair, who jerked away from his touch as if remembering something painful. "Carry on." Raoul inclined his head, and left the room. Over the months, Lucas' young mind had already forgotten about his true paternity, and regarded Raoul without question as his father. Although sometimes, he would have nightmares of a gunshot ringing out and hearing his mother shriek, and Lucas would awake very confused and scared.

Raoul made his way to the dining room thinking hard. He couldn't complain. His life was finally picking up, and everything seemed perfect. Except, Raoul stopped frowning slightly. Except for Christine. With a painful pang, Raoul remembered long ago hearing the high society ladies gossip about Christine, and warning him of 'those chorus girls.' Breathing heavily, Raoul grasped a empty glass and threw it against the wall vindictively. Hearing the footsteps of a maid, Raoul turned around sharply, and locked himself in his bedroom.

As for Christine, once she had awoken back in her and Raoul's house, she went on a rampage, knocking everything over on her way up to the attic where she locked herself in, and refused to leave. Raoul managed to slip food in to her, but she never responded to him, and never left the attic, fighting if he ever tried to take her away. There she stayed in the same dress that still showed faint marks of Erik's blood, rocking back in forth in front of the window, with her eyes never leaving The Paris Opera House.


End file.

Phantom of the Opera, Horror, Tragedy