Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera.
Promise
He was there. They should know quite well already that he was always there, even when they didn't suspect that he was. They all believed that he was long gone, having just found his mask in his lair. Well, he could very well assure them that he was not gone, that, in fact, he had no plans of leaving anytime soon. It was his theatre and he was going to ensure that it remained that way.
Leaning back in the seat of box five, the voices of the cast drifted up, all shuffled together over whatever argument they were having at that moment. Whenever the door opened to the box, he slowly turned his head to see Madame Giry enter the room. He pulled the hood of his cape more firmly over head, mentally thinking that he needed to find another mask and soon. This was becoming an inconvenience.
"I did not expect you to return here," Madame Giry said, clasping her hands in front of her.
"Nor did I," the Phantom replied, watching the scene below critically.
"It is a dangerous thing for you to return," she stated, not allowing him to let the subject go to rest. He closed his eyes for a brief moment before he stood, pulling his cape near to him.
"I see that Christine and Raoul decided to get married," he said icily. Madame Giry looked at him for a moment before she inconspicuously took a step back. "Now, I wonder how he found my hideaway, don't you? She would still be mine if you hadn't had to ruin things."
"You should leave this place," Madame Giry said, not answering his question as she tried to escape the box. It had been a mistake to enter it when she had known that there was a large chance he would have been there. The Phantom turned and looked at her, careful to keep his face hidden. True, she knew what he looked like from that ridiculous freak show he had been placed in, but he would not allow anyone else to see it other than Christine.
"Madame Giry, I will allow you a warning merely because I need someone on the inside," he said in a dangerous voice. "Fix my opera." He brushed past her, moving towards the exit.
"How shall I tell them to fix it?" Madame Giry inquired while her back remained to him. He paused and turned around to face her.
"Get rid of that pig headed woman as the lead," he stated before he slipped out the door and stuck to the shadows of the hallway before he exited the theatre.
x.x.x
Christine sat in her dressing room after the rehearsal's that day, flipping through script for the opera they were performing. She knew who had written it whenever it had magically appeared on the desk of Firmin and André with a note attached that it was to be performed correctly and box five was to remain empty as always. Everyone had thought it was some child playing a prank because the Phantom had not been seen nor heard for several months. Christine and Meg knew better, though.
The mask that Meg had found in the Phantom's lair lay on Christine's dressing table. She reached over and fingered it, imagining him wearing it. Yes, she was married to Raoul now, but she still cared about the Phantom. He was insane, but his heart was in the right place. She loved him, not in the way she loved Raoul, of course, but she still loved him.
"Oh, Angel," she whispered as she slid the mask into a drawer of her dressing table.
She really did miss him. She missed getting to spend their time together, having him teach her new things about singing that she'd never would have discovered on her own. He was a brilliant guy, really, but being brilliant didn't cause people to dislike you less or be less afraid of you. No, they were not any less scared or caring about the Phantom than they were before his disappearance.
After a second thought, she reached into her drawer and removed the mask from its place before she left the dressing room. Christine hurried down the hall, hoping that no one spotted her as she travelled to her destination. She neared where she had planned to go and nearly collided with Madame Giry as she turned the corner.
"Christine," Madame Giry said, peering down at the other girl, "where are you scurrying off to in such a big rush?"
"Nowhere in particular," Christine replied as she slipped her hands into her pockets to conceal the mask. Meg's mother looked at Christine for a moment before she stepped to the left to walk past her. She paused, however, near Christine's shoulder.
"I have been informed that you will be playing the lead in the new opera," she said in a cold voice. "Congratulations, Miss. de Chagny. You have an admirer."
Christine turned and opened her mouth to speak as Madame Giry walked away, but no words emerged. In the back of her mind, Christine knew very well what Madame Giry had meant when she had stated that Christine had "an admirer", but she didn't believe it. Not at that moment, though.
She walked on towards box five, the realization that she had just gotten, yet again, a lead in the opera. It was déjà vu, the fact that she had gotten the lead. It had happened several years previously, but she had never believed someone would choose her as the lead over Carlotta. She wrapped her arms around her waist tightly. She felt as though she was being pressured, once again, to take this role because she knew, really knew, who it was that was making her do it.
Christine stepped into box five and found it, thankfully, empty. She walked around the seat and sat down, staring out at the empty theatre. The shattered chandelier had since been replaced and the place where Buquet had been murdered was still fresh in her mind. Although it had been several years previously, she did remember it well. However much harm the Phantom had done in his life, he had been a comedian when he'd turned Carlotta's voice into a frog's.
She removed the mask from her pocket and held it in her hand. She understood why the Phantom had worn it, but he hadn't needed it. He was a beautiful man without it, so she had never understood why he insisted on needing it. Yes, he thought of himself as being a monster, but he was not a monster.
"Christine," a voice said from within the shadows. Her breath caught in her throat and she sat rigid in the chair. "I see you've returned to me." She swallowed hard and forced herself to breath, closing her eyes for a brief moment as she heard the owner of the voice move around to be closer to her. "You found it."
"Meg," she whispered. A hand reached out to take the mask, but she held it to her chest, finally looking up into the eyes of the Phantom. "Where did you go?" The Phantom let his hand fall to his side as he looked at her before he turned away from her and looked out over the theatre.
"I was always near."
"Composing an opera, too, apparently."
"Ah, Madame Giry spoke to you."
"Where were you?" she asked again. He placed his hand on the booth and sighed.
"Hiding. Being the monster that I am, I wasn't able to go many places," he replied. "I understand that you married that boy, correct?" She looked at the back of his frame for a moment before she turned her gaze to the mask in her hand once again.
"Yes, I married Raoul," she said with a sigh.
"When did he ask?" the Phantom asked softly, still not looking at her.
"Soon after you disappeared," she replied, lifting her gaze back up to look at the back of his cape clad head. "I suppose that you had a hand in that, if you think about it." The Phantom's shoulders moved for a brief moment, although she wasn't sure if he was laughing or crying. "I don't think he wanted another man to have the opportunity to snatch me up."
"And yet you are here, in box five where you knew I was likely to be found," he said, turning so that he faced her. She could see the deformations on his face even beneath the hood of his cape. "Why did you return?" She lifted her shoulders lightly before she dropped them.
"I don't have an answer for that," she said softly. Her answer hung between them for a moment before the Phantom spoke again.
"You should have informed me you were getting married. I have a wedding dress you could have borrowed." Christine stared at him, unsure if he was joking or serious. His face gave her no answer, leaving her to change the subject to be on the safe side.
"I thought that, maybe, you would come here if I brought your mask back," she said, holding it out to him finally. He took it, his hand brushing against her lightly. He turned away and situated the mask on his face, letting out a sigh of relief before he turned back to her.
"I hoped that you would return," the Phantom said as he sat down next to her. She tensed slightly before she reminded herself that if he really loved her, then he would not do anything to harm her. "I wanted to offer my assistance to help you rehearse for your part in my opera."
"As soon as Madame Giry informed me that I would be taking the lead in the opera, I had a hunch that you had a hand in it," Christine stated, looking at him. There was a faint smile on his face, one that she almost didn't notice until she looked at him closer.
"A beautiful opera needs a beautiful lead," he stated. She smiled softly at him.
"If you keep complimenting me, I might take you up on your offer," she replied. The faint smile on his face grew larger.
"I'll keep that in mind," the Phantom told her. He folded his hands in his lap and shifted to look at her dead on. "We should begin rehearsing now if you want to be perfect for opening night." Christine looked at him for a moment before she looked out over the theatre.
"It's getting late, Raoul will be looking for me," she said softly. The Phantom was silent for a moment before he spoke.
"Yes, I should let you leave. We both know how far Raoul will go to find you, don't we?" the Phantom asked. She knew he was trying to hide his disappointment, but he wasn't doing a very good job at it.
"I will be back, Angel," Christine said as she stood. "I'll be back as long as you promise to be here." He lifted his gaze to meet hers. "Promise me you'll be here, Angel."
A troubled look appeared on his face as he spoke. "I promise." Christine studied him for a moment before she leaned down and pressed her lips against the top of his head.
With that, she turned and left box five while she could. The entire time she walked down the hallway, her feet wanted to turn around and return to the lonely, misunderstood man. She couldn't, though. She was married and her husband was waiting for her to return home, which she would, and she would not mention anything about her run in with the Phantom. That was going to remain her secret with him.
The Phantom of the Opera was still around his theatre, making sure that everything was being ran the way that it should. She was glad for that, too, because she knew that there would always be someone looking out for her even if she didn't deserve for him to be looking out for her.