After Darkness Comes Light: A Phantom Fanfic

by deadXbutterfly

Summary: Did Christine really love the Vicomte de Chagny? When she hears the screams of her former song teacher and Angel of Music, her mind turns upside down. After a long time of tasks and trouble, she finally finds her true feelings. But what about the Phantom, will he ever forgive the singing beauty? Will he ever feel the warmth of love and light? Only time can show, as the two songbirds begin another long journey through tears and smiles, to find the past and the truth of the darkness inside the Phantom of the Opera.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera or any of the characters. They all belong to monsieur Gaston Leroux.

Thanks to: Gaston Leroux, the great creator of the story of the Opera Ghost, to Susan Kay, for giving us the amazing tale of Erik from the beginning to the end, and to Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber and his amazing cast, for bringing our beloved phantom to life

Chapter 1

Where there is wrong, there is right

As the young singer Christine Daaé and her fiancée, le Vicomte Raoul de Chagny sailed fast towards their freedom, a heart broken song cut through the air of the long, cold corridors. Christine straightened her back, with a quick yank. She sad before Raoul, tears in her chocolate brown eyes, Raoul was certain that it were tears of fear, and not of sorrow, however he was wrong. His beloved Christine were filled with a sorrow unequalled; she had turned her back to the man there had given her, her voice back. She had believed so much in him and had, believed that behind the darkness, there was a creature of light. A sound came from the lair, a sound from metal against glass, and at that moment she finally understood how muck the man she just left, loved her.

Another crash was to be heard.

She could almost feel the broken glass pierce her heart, not literally, but mentally. A tear ran down her cheek. She med sure Raoul didn't see it, and looked straight ahead. A third crash sounded. It was strangely louder than the others. She cared so much about this Phantom, and that the time was running out. Christine had to choose. She knew what would happen if she didn't do anything; her angel would be fallen forever, and it would be her fault!

"Raoul, stop," she said, still without looking at him.

She could not bear the look on his face. It was bad enough to see Raoul stand there, bound to the wrought-iron in the lair. He had looked so helpless with the lasso around his neck, unable to defend himself. Christine bit her lower lip and went to stand, slowly

"Christine..?" Raoul never got to speak the sentence, before Christine broke him off.

"I have to go back, now!" she almost commanded.

Raoul was choked. He had been certain that Christine never would have second thoughts in her decision. However there stood she and was begging him to that bring her back to the man he hated most. This Phantom, that in several months had plagued the Opera, had killed without reason, and mixed the innocent singer into a mess she clearly couldn't get herself out of. Raoul understood that no. How could Christine wish to return to this monster of darkness, this angel of death?

"Christine, it is not wise to return! You do not known what he will do to you," Raoul tried.

He wanted to get her to her senses, however, it didn't work. His Little Lotte had changed so mush the last couple of years; she was no longer the little bird with the red scarf. No, she was a growing woman, and she did not react to his pleading.

Raoul could see how her begging eyes went angry and cold.

"What do you know about that, Raoul? Tell me! What have you done to get to know this man?" Christine wanted to know. Finally, Raoul stopped the boat.

"Christine, mes cher. Ce qui passé pour vous? This isn't like you!! The man killed innocent!"

Christine was right; Raoul wasn't strong enough to face the truth. He had grown a lot since then, however inside he was still the boy she met on the shore years back. She thought back on the day. The day Raoul, wit no reason, jumped into the sea after her mothers scarf. She had been scared, scared that he wouldn't get back with it.

Flashback

I sat by the shore with father. Soft tunes streaming from his violin, and even softer tunes from my lips. It must have sounded wonderful, my innocent voice, and the rolling sounds.. The wind blew hard that day. The sand was flying around us, but we didn't notice.

From the great cottage with the beach view, a little boy looked down on our little family, he must have been looking, how else would he know? The wind took my scarf. Like a red bird, it flew against the sea, hitting the waters edge, I screamed in sorrow. It was my mothers! The only memory I had left from her, and now the sea would take it. Desperate I ran towards the water, but when I felt my tiny feet get wet, the scarf was out of my reach.

Raoul ran towards the shore. In his kind, good upbringing, had he learnt that one should help the ones who needed it, and I certainly did.

"My scarf!" I screamed again.

I was fast on its way into the water, and so was I. However my father came to my rescue. He grabbed me about the waist, and tore me back.

The young vicomte quickly came to rescue my scarf. He jumped headlong into the water and swam as if his life depended on it, which it very likely did. He clearly overworked himself, however it seemed he didn't feel the pain the cold water was giving him.

At shore, father and I watched choked when the boy threw himself forth to the high waves.

"Father, do something!" I cried.

Father followed the boy, and in short time, they were both safely ashore.

Flashback end

"Oui, Raoul. Et pourquoi? Il a fait cela pour me montrer,qu'il ferait tout pour moi gat à ses côtes! (Yes, Raoul, and why? so He did it to show me, that he will do anything to gat me by his side!)she yelled, anger in her beautiful voice. Once again, he was choked.

"You aren't who I believed you were, Raoul. You are still the boy there fetched my mothers scarf at the sea, and you've not changed," she explained.

When she saw that Raoul didn't understand, she started to explain further.

"Raoul I certainly loved you. However, this angel has always followed me. It has always been my dream to meet him in blood and flesh, and here he is. I beg of you, Raoul, you must see! I loved you, but you'll always be the one were, for me,"

There she stood and looked into Raouls blank; blue eyes. She knew that she never would be able to lose herself to his eyes, like she did in her angels. And so knew Raoul.

"Christine.. Just do what you think is right, I can't say anything else. However, don't ask me to bring you back there!"

Christine nodded, and embraced him.

"Raoul, I am truly sorry for no reflecting you love," she whispered against his cold, wet shirt.

Raoul broke free from her warm embrace, and drew himself away from her. Not in disgust, but in respect.

"Then mat all luck and happiness be on your side Chri... Mademoiselle Daaé," he said firmly, knowing that she wouldn't answer him.

He was right, she didn't answer. Instead she kicked her shoes off, lifted the beautiful wedding gown. Slowly she made her way into the water. Her skin burned as the cold, black water hit her, and soon she had the same horrible feeling all over her body.. She looked up at Raoul, and before he knew it, she was on her way back to the man that had mesmerized through so many years. This was another ending, and another goodbye in her ever-growing collection. She didn't fear the Phantom anymore; their kiss had changed so much for her. It had been waking something inside of her, but she didn't know what it was, just that it was a new, frightening feeling. A feeling of truth, honesty and faith, all mixed into one:

Love.

Raoul looked after Christine, her small frame faded slowly as she moved forwards. Sorrowful he once again started to push the boat forwards. He had lost her twice, and didn't want to go through the pain again. Deciding to start a new life, he sailed with an open mind towards his future, a future without Christine.

oOoOoOo

She was trapped in a corner of the liar and saw it happen. The small ballet girl with the straight blonde hair and the big, blue eyes, Meg Giry held the white half-mask to her racing heart. The fear was obvious, and the tears could fall every second. It pained her to see the mob destroying the beautiful home of the opera ghost. She should have listened to her mother, and now she knew why; the lair was in ruins and a bad smell of burnt fabric and smoke filled the thin air; these people wouldn't get away with this, and she knew it.

The mob had done all they could to find the monster, but they didn't seem to progress. Meg on the other hand, knew where he was. But as long as she kept in the shadows where no one would see her, nobody would ask. But maybe she could make them leave, before they did more damage to this beautiful lair. She could tell a lie to make them go away?

"Messieurs, the monster are not here, I saw him flee before you came. That way!" she yelled, pointing at the gate they all just came from.

Another wave of fear hit her, as a big man went to stand in front of her. In that moment, she knew that no one believed her. He looked at her with a killing glance. Meg tried to keep her eyes at her shiny boots, but the man grabbed her by the chin, and forced her to look at him. He was horrifying; his face was filled with folds of fat, and his nose had probably been broken e few times. He made the Phantom look like prince charming in her eyes.

"Well, well. This tiny mademoiselle seems to know something we don't," he spoke, in a level that only she could her.

In rage, Meg spat him in the face. The man shot her death-looks, before taking a firm grip by her delicate shoulders.

"Did you hear me messieurs? This little whore, seems to be one of the beasts allies!" he yelled mockingly, and pushed Meg away.

The poor girl lost her balance, and fell to the ground. She didn't look up, not even when a bunch of people was gathering around her.

"You can be right, Gautier. We can't take any chances," mumbled man.

He took hold of Megs wrist.

oOoOoOo

Christine looked towards Meg, as she was surrounded by more and more people. In a few seconds, Christines fear turned to hate. Meg was as a sister to her, and had always been by her side when she needed it. The feeling of rage she had was indescribable.

Meg's blood was everywhere, and it was first when she curled herself into a ball, the mob stopped. They picked up their searching and left Meg in a pool of her own blood. Frustrated Christine bit her lower lip. . She wanted to help, she wanted to help Meg so bad, but she just couldn't. She knew what would happen if she showed up in there; they would take her, just like the Phantom did. They would force her to tell where the monster would be, and when she said that she didn't know, they would hit her. She could be brave, but never brave enough to go willingly through the same pain as little Meg.

oOoOoOo

Meg couldn't hols the tears back, they ran down her pale cheeks, and mingled with the blood on the ground. The wound wasn't as bad as they looked, but it still hurt awfully when she tried to move. When she in a helpless move, tried to sit up, she collapsed and hit her head to the ground. She moaned and her hand was wildly searching for something that would help her. Nothing was there. Lost and broken she picked up on her helpless sobbing.

Then it came, the triumphing yell of a man that had just made his greatest wish come true:

"We got him! We got the monster!"

The man repeated himself several times. Him, and 3 other men came dragging with a limp man, who mostly looked like a corpse. They pushed him to the ground with a force, which sent him sliding along the floor. He had learnt to ignore physical pain, but the mental losses he felt, made him forget all about it. He was just lying on the floor, not making a sound. Gautier kneeled beside him, grabbed a bunch of hair, and yanked the Phantom up.

"Tell me, who is the monster behind the mask?" he asked mockingly.

The phantom didn't answer. Not before he was kicked in the ribs. He nodded slowly, before opening his mouth to speak

"Erik," he spoke weakly.

Gautier yanked Eriks head further back, and kissed him in pure triumph. They had finally caught the man, the monster, which had killed Bouquet and Piangi. He hit the Phantom across the marred side of his face and pushed him into the water. Another man, even lager that Gautier, came to kneel beside the fallen Phantom.

"Goodbye Erik," he spat as he forced the head of the Phantom under water.

A cascade of bubbles rose to the surface, bur soon died out. The water was still, and the mob didn't even move. The silence was lying over the lair as a soft blanket of relief. They had won! The man who drowned Erik, pushed the numb body into the freezing water.

The rest of the mob just stood, looking after any signs of survival, but the signs never came. One of the last men took hold of Meg, and helped her out.

She was clearly innocent. The Phantom hadn't looked at her, not even once, and if she really was his allied. Well, then she probably had learned her lesson.

oOoOoOo

When the lair finally was empty, Christine came out from her hiding. Her face was shining of tears, and the pain she felt in her heart, was clearly displayed in her body language. She felt a grief, stronger than ever, and anyway how much she tried to suppress it, it still grew stronger. Her normally beautiful curls were hanging lifeless around her pale face, and the chocolate brown eyes were swollen by tears.

Never minding she stepped into the black water. She wouldn't let her poor angel rot in a wet grave. That was certainly not what she wanted. "I denied the both," she thought in despair.

This was all her doing, and it was so clear; if she had just left the mask ob his face, she wouldn't stand in this horrible grief. Then, Erik would probably just have waited till after the performance and then gentle lead her to his lair.

En this dark hour, Christine smiled. "Erik," she had never believed her angel to have a name. "Erik," it fit him perfectly. She kept repeating his name mentally, until she was sure that she never would forget it.

She kept looking for Erik I several minutes, until her naked foot hit something hairy, a head? Christine threw herself into the waters and dived. She finally found his wrist, and locked her tiny hands around it.

With a great deal of struggling, she finally got him safely ashore.

xXxXxXx

Hello cutiepies xD
Thanks for reading.

Well, I know this might look familiar, and that might be because of my missing creativity, you se.. I've already posted this once, but I wasn't pleased with it. It wasn't long enough and stuff like that, so well.. Here you go..

But please remember; I'm only an obsessed teenager, and I normally speaks an writes Danish, so if there is something that just don't fit, tell me, and I'll start to pay attention in my English class xD

Oh! And next chapter is already written, I just need to translate it, and then this "wonderful" fanfic will continue oO

Best regards,

Charlie