Death. That seemed to be all that was present in Christine Daae's life. Death and pain. She collapsed to the ground, tears racking her body. How could this happen? She could feel the cold snow seeping in through her clothes as she inched her way closer to the marble gravestone. Her pale, now frost bitten fingers swept snow from the name that was etched into the stone. Her eyes strained to see in the dark.

Raoul, Vicomte De Chagny

Beloved Husband and Father

Christine had them add the father part, because at that time she had still been with child. But, over the course of the past few weeks, grief had taken it's toil and reared it's ugly head. When she had collapsed at the funeral, a pool of blood beneath her, she had thought she might join her beloved Raoul in death. A smile was on her face as she passed out from loss of blood. When she had awoken, she had been in her own bed, a doctor standing over her.

"We were unable to save the fetus." he told her, walking away from the bed and gathering his medical supplies.

Cold and impersonal, Christine thought to herself as she watched him exit the room. Fetus. Not baby. A fetus... a thing...

Now she had no one. No fair haired, blue eyed child to remind her of her lost love. Now, she had lost the only thing that connected her to Raoul. The one thing she thought would help her hold her sanity.

"Madame?"

No, not yet. Please... just let me say goodbye...

"Madame? I am afraid it is time."

Christine turned, feeling the way the tears had turned cold on her pale face.

The man all dressed in black approached her, pulling her to her feet. She was dragged along behind him, more forcefully than was strictly necessary.

"We must hurry so you can make the train, Madame," he said, his voice as emotionless as his gaunt face. "Maybe you will make it in time for your audition tomorrow."

Christine jerked against his grasp, struggling as the reached the carriage.

"I don't want to go to an audition!" she screamed, thinking someone... anyone would come to her aid. But there was no one in the still, silent, and cold night. "I wish to go home!"

The coachman shoved her in the coach headfirst, laughing a grating laugh when she landed on her face on the carriage floor.

"You have no home," he sneered. "You lost your home when you lost the De Chagny heir!"

Christine's tears had dried up by the time he slammed the door and climbed into the driver's seat of the carriage. He was right. She had no home now. She was back where she started... alone and an orphan.

The day after her miscarriage, Raoul's mother had made it quite clear that she no longer wanted Christine in her home.

"It was bad enough to continue courting you after that scandal at the Opera House," she had stated, making Christine feel ten inches tall. "But then... he married you of all things! You! A common actress harlot!"

She of course was "too good of a person" to just throw Christine out into the world with absolutely nothing.

She had handed Christine a stack of papers, and explained to Christine what they were. As if she couldn't figure out what they were for herself.

"These are identity papers," Madame De Chagny explained. "I am giving you an entire different identity, Christine. I want the ties that bind us together to be severed forever."

Christine had swallowed hard.

"I can't even keep my name?" she had asked, wincing when her throat throbbed. She had been crying to much recently.

She had glanced down at the paper... at the name in big letters across the top.

Cherri Holland

"Cherri... a common whore's name," Madame had snarled, scorn evident in her tone. She had stalked to the door of the library, though turned to say one last thing. "I have also been kind enough to set you up an audition at an opera house a few towns away. I have no doubt that you will secure a place there. Maybe if you are lucky, someone will notice you and make you his mistress."

Christine had never felt so alone. So... abandoned.

She now sat in the carriage, jostling from side to side at its rocking motion. Though she hardly noticed. She was numb.

The had hardly allowed her to take anything with her. The clothes she came with certainly. But nothing that Raoul had given her. Nothing she had acquired during their brief one year marriage. She reached into the neckline of her gown and rubbed a finger over the locket hanging there. She had hidden this from them when they had taken her away. It was the only thing she had left of Raoul now. On one side, a portrait of the little boy who had fetched her scarf. On the other, the passionate man she had married. She clenched her stiff fingers around it, knuckles going white at the pressure.

"Oh, Raoul," she whispered, feeling the tears prick at the back of her eyes. "What am I to do, my love?"

If only... no. She couldn't ask that of them. She didn't want to drag them into this mess. But...

She reached her hand up and rapped on the roof of the carriage. She fell forward off the seat as the carriage lurched to a sudden stop.

"Clumsy oaf," she muttered, dusting off the dirt that had gotten on her hand from the floor of the carriage.

The door to the carriage flew open, and she was met with the angry face of the driver.

"Yes? What is it?"

She smiled. "I am about to make your night a lot easier."

He eyed her suspiciously, but didn't interrupt as she continued,

"You let me off here, with my one bag of luggage. You don't have to travel all night to get to the train station, and you won't have to endure my company. I find yours insufferable as well by the way."

She sniffed, and held out her hand, looking every bit a regal member of aristocracy.

"Help me out of the carriage. This will be the last time you have to service me."

Holding no ceremony, he promptly jerked her from her seat on the floor and threw her in the dirt. Her reticule shortly followed, dumped on the ground beside her. The coach disappeared in a matter of seconds, leaving Christine to choke in the dust it left behind. She scowled at the the rapidly disappearing vehicle, though she was glad to be rid of its infernal driver.

She stood and dusted the dirt from her clothes. She picked up her reticule, took a deep breath, and turned to walk down the road. She knew exactly where she was going... she only hoped they would find her visit welcoming.

~i~

The cottage was perfect. Small but beautiful with the vines, though deadened by winter, growing up the side. Christine had encouraged Raoul to purchase this property and give it to their friends. After all, with them being out of a job, how were they supposed to pay for living space? Handing them the deed had been her parting gift to them. How would they react when they saw her again? Angry? Happy? Confused?

She walked up the cobble pathway, her hand sweating around the handle of her bag. Her footsteps seemed loud and out of place in the cold night air. Finally reaching the door, her chilled fingers reached out to grasp the small, lion head door knocker. She rapped three times.

Christine looked up as a small light filled the window above her head. She watched as it disappeared and then reappeared in the ground floor window nearest her. There was the sound of locks being undone, and then the door opened just enough for Christine to make out an innocent face framed in blonde curls. She watched as the young girl's eyes widened and candlelight illuminated the smile that spread across her face.

"Christine!"

The door was thrown open, and Christine was pulled into Meg's arms. Though small in stature, little Meg had some strength.

Meg pulled back after a moment, shut the door, and set the candle in her hand on a small table beside the door.

"Are you alright?" Meg asked, placing a hand up to Christine's cheek. "What on earth are you doing here at this time of night?"

Christine looked at her friend, at the worried look in her eyes, and she felt her eyes overflow with tears.

She collapsed in her friend's arms, and felt the sobs rack her body.