A few people wanted me to write a sequel to "The Youthful Innocence", a One Shot I made up off the top of my head, so I brainstormed and came up with an idea for a story. I'm not sure how long it will or what most of the meat of the story will be like, but I know the basic and the ending.

Also, unlike me with my other story "The Nightingale's Journey", I don't have it already written. I have two and a half chapters, but I still most likely won't post up every day. The waits will most likely differ, but I'll try to write and post new chapters up A.S.A.P.

I suggest that you read "The Youthful Innocence" first which you can get to by clicking on my name. It's a quick read and will help give you understanding for this story.

Enjoy!

-MaskedDreamer

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Chapter One: Shock

"Christine! Christine wake up!"

Angéle watched as her father fussed over her mother who seemed to be sleeping in the middle of the street. And she tells me not to ruin my dress, Angéle thought sarcastically.

"Papa? What happened to mother?"

Raoul beckoned Angéle over to him and hugged her tightly.

"Your mother was just shocked. She'll be fine, don't worry little one."

Angéle screwed up her face trying to remember something Erik had told her.

"Erik said that he wasn't on the best terms with you and mother. He said that if you saw him, you'd be hurt." Raoul glanced at the newly worried Angéle. "Did I hurt mama?"

"No, Angéle. You didn't. But. . . Erik, is that his name? Well, what he said about us not being on the best of terms is true."

"Why not?" Angéle asked.

"Not now, little one. Perhaps when you're older."

Raoul's attention was soon brought back to Christine who was slowly waking up. Her eyes fluttered open and immediately swerved around as if looking for a ghost.

"Oh God, Angéle. Are you all right?" she asked, sitting up and pulling Angéle into an embrace.

"Of course I'm all right, mother," Angéle said, her replied muffed in Christine's hair.

"Did he hurt you in any way? What did he do to you?"

Angéle looked confusedly at Christine's worried face.

"Mama, he didn't hurt me at all."

Christine and Raoul visibly relaxed at that. "Tell us everything," Christine said, standing up and bringing Angéle up in her arms.

"Well, when the carriage broke, I saw a flutter of white at the top of the street. I went up to see what it was and found this." Angéle waved around the handkerchief. Christine caught a whiff of its aroma and immediately recognized the mysterious scent of her Angel of Music.

"I picked it up and saw a man walking away from it. I thought he must of dropped his handkerchief, so I picked it up and told him he dropped it."

"You should never talk to strangers, Angéle," Raoul said sternly. Angéle shrugged.

"He didn't feel dangerous to me so I thought it would be okay to stop him. He almost didn't turn around to see me, but he eventually did." Angéle smiled. "He's a funny man. Very large and dark, but his eyes looked so sad and worn."

Christine gulped down threatening tears at the remembrance of Erik's pitiful eyes.

"He took the handkerchief and looked at me as if terribly shocked. I then noticed he wore something over his face and asked him what it was. He told me he wore a mask so that he wouldn't scare anyone. He told me he was born with a deformity. I asked if it gets hot an icky under it and he seemed amused."

Angéle smiled fondly at the memory.

"I then asked for his name. He seemed surprised but replied. I told him mine and he seemed amused again." Angéle's soft smile then turned to a frown and she bit her lip.

"But then you called out for me and Erik went all rigid. He was about to leave, but I held him back. I asked where he lived. He said 'Around here'. I asked if I could visit and he said you two wouldn't like it if I visited because he's a stranger and would bring pain to you. Then Erik left, giving me this rose and leaving behind his handkerchief again."

As Angéle finished her story with a final sigh, Raoul looked warily over at Christine. Christine's eyes were fixed on the rose and it's ribbon, but seemed to be thinking far beyond that.

"Christine. . . ?" Raoul asked uncertainly. Christine broke out of her trance and smiled slightly at Raoul and Angéle.

"Well today has proved exciting. I think we should delay our trip till tomorrow, don't you?"

Raoul nodded, letting Christine lead the way back around the corner and to their broken down carriage.

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Erik had come back to his lair with lighter spirits than usual. He immediately discarded his cloak, jacket, and vest before sitting down at the organ. Without any sense of hesitation, his fingers started caressing a lively and youthful tune out of the organ.

In six years, Erik had never played a tune so lively and carefree as this one. They had all halted when Raoul came into Christine's life, shattering his dream of having Christine love him. Even before six years, Erik had rarely played such tunes.

It's playfulness flooded his body and poured out his admiration for Christine's daughter, Angéle. She was so young, so innocent, and inspired Erik in many different ways.

For the whole day Erik never left the organ. He spent ten hours pouring out his heart and soul into the pipes and letting his new found emotions reverberate throughout his cave. He was so engulfed with his music he didn't notice the person sneaking through the lair's tunnels until someone called out softly.

"Erik?"

Erik jumped in surprise, his fingers slipping and playing a loud, horribly sloppy chord on the organ. Trying not to cringe in disgust, Erik whirled around to face the other side of the lake.

There, standing on the banks, was Christine.

"Christine. . ." Erik said hoarsely, blinking back sudden tears.

"Can I talk to you?" Christine asked.

"About what?"

"I just want to talk," she said stubbornly, raising her chin. Erik was amazed at how much Christine had grown. Mechanically and still trying to digest the information that Christine had willingly come back to his hell, Erik poled the gondola over to the other shore. As soon as he stepped off, he turned around to face Christine.

At first, both just stared at each other, unsure of what to do. Erik was rigid with shock plastered all over his face, where as Christine just looked uncomfortable. After thinking about something, Christine let out a sob and threw herself into Erik's arm.

Erik almost fainted when he felt Christine touch him willing. With surprised eyes, Erik stared down at Christine's sobbing body. He hesitantly reached out his hand and touched her head.

It was real. Christine was actually in his arms willingly, sobbing.

Realization struck Erik and he too let out tears, burying his head into Christine's hair and breathing in her enticing perfume. They stayed in each others embrace for a long time, savoring the feel of one another, before Christine slowly pried herself from him.

"Erik, we need to talk."

He stared calmly at Christine as she looked less placidly back.

"Is this about Angéle?" he asked. Christine's eyes widened briefly when he heard him speak her daughters name, but she soon recovered and nodded.

"I've no right to be mad at you because I've never seen Angéle so pleased." Erik lifted his visible eyebrow. "And I'm glad you two met because before this I thought you were. . . dead."

Erik didn't seem surprised at this bit of information.

"Why are you here, then?" Erik asked Christine. "There must be another reason for you to visit me besides saying you thought I was dead."

"Yes, there was," Christine said, squaring her shoulders and looking directly into Erik's eyes.

"I've come back to apologies. I know that will never be enough to heal our past, but it's better than nothing. I want you to accept this apology."

Erik gazed tiredly at Christine.

"Christine, I forgave you five years ago."

This caused Christine to tear up again, but she rapidly blinked them back.

"Is that it?" Erik then asked.

"No," Christine replied. She looked once more directly into Erik's eyes.

"I was also here to give you the secret job of being Angéle's Godfather."

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