Author's Note 1: I've always thought of this scene in the movie as a pivotal moment in the Christine/Phantom relationship. When Christine gives back the mask (in the movie), she is essentially admitting that she can't accept the Phantom for who he is.

Author's Note 2: A million thanks to my beta, MadameGiry25! I could never have done it without you. You provided brilliant insight, critique, patience, and support.

Fear Can Turn to Love

And do I dream again? For now I find, The Phantom of the Opera is there inside my mind. Strains of ghostly music wound like ribbons through my dreams, and I sensed a mysterious presence nearby. Reluctantly, I allowed myself to be pulled from the depths of slumber, relinquishing thoughts of swirling mist and darkness. I opened my eyes, expecting to see the familiar ballet dormitories, but the dream didn't end. I gazed at my candlelit surroundings-a dark cavern, a swan-shaped bed draped with red velvet, a veil of black gossamer-as unearthly music continued to echo around me.

As I stepped out of my sleeping chamber, I caught sight of the masked man sitting at a pipe organ. He turned when he heard my cautious footsteps. So it hadn't all been a dream. I approached as he continued his music, ethereal, enchanting. Was he man or angel? His divine notes fused and merged like so many ripples upon a glassy lake. I slipped into a trance filled only with music and the tender smokiness of candles. As I came up behind him, I couldn't resist touching him, wanting to affirm his physical existence. I looked deep into his intense, smoldering eyes and caressed his cheek gently, feeling the roughness against my fingertips. He exhaled and closed his eyes, swelling with the glorious music. And I needed to know more. I needed to know this angel completely. My hands gently stroked his high cheekbones and traveled to the edges of his ivory mask. And as the music reached a climax, I lifted it from his face.

The music jerked to a stop. Silence knifed the air. The man clutched his face, then surged up and knocked me away all in a split second. I fell to the stone floor in surprise. "DAMN YOU!" he roared. "You little prying PANDORA! You little demon! Is this what you wanted to see?" I gasped in fear at his sudden outrage. He ripped away the cloth covering a full-length mirror and stared with vehement loathing at his reflection. Time stood still. The mirror displayed his true, distorted face. On his right cheek, the top layer of skin had been irreparably peeled away. I weakened as I saw his eye stretched open above a cheek that was pitted and scarred. Both eyes blazed, but in them, where others found evil, I suddenly realized that I saw only sadness, the viscid tar that fed his fury. He masked his deformity again with his hand and whirled on me. "CURSE YOU!" he snarled and advanced threateningly. "You little, lying Delilah- you little viper! Now you cannot ever be free!" I scrambled away from his untamed fury. He shoved over a tall, iron candleholder as he pivoted and stalked away from me. "Damn you! Curse you…"

His voice relinquished its harsh edge. I sat up hesitantly as he came towards me. When he began to sing again, he sounded no longer savage or feral. Instead, only self-hatred saturated his tone. "Stranger than you dreamt it. Can you even dare to look or bear to think of me, this loathsome gargoyle who burns in hell but secretly yearns for heaven. Secretly, secretly." The terrible pain in his voice wrenched my heart. "Oh, Christine," he murmured. A tear trickled down my cheek as he and sank to his knees before me. "Fear can turn to love. You'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster-this repulsive carcass-who seems a beast but secretly dreams of beauty." He rocked forward and back with emotion, both self-pity and unfathomable sadness. "Secretly, secretly. Oh, Christine."

That moment was the first I ever felt true empathy, a shared suffering, a torturous agony. I looked at this angel of music and hell, and for a moment was one with him. I knew then that only I could save him from his anguish, as only he could save me from mine. I realized that I still held his mask and held it out to him. When he reached out gently to accept it, he averted his eyes. But in his face, I saw all the guilt and hurt in the world, all the pain he had inflicted upon me reflected a hundredfold in his soul. And in his tears the plea: Love me and you shall see! All I wanted was to be loved for myself. If you loved me I should be as gentle as a lamb; and you could do anything with me that you pleased.

And in that moment, understanding flooded my mind. This creature of darkness had never been shown compassion, never been shown humanity. He had been shunned his whole life, hated, locked into a darkness as deep as Hell. He had never been loved.

I breathed in deeply and took a leap of faith. I opened my mind…

And I realized that I loved him, loved him in his perfection and his curse. I alone saw into the soul that he had suppressed his whole life.

I lightly touched his shoulder as he turned away to affix his mask. He paused, arm halfway to his face, as I brushed my hand up his silk collar. But still he remained turned away from me, adrift in a sea of misery and remorse. I traced his chin delicately and he stiffened. "Please," I whispered. "Please look at me." He finally, lifelessly looked into my eyes as I cradled his face in my palms, touching both disfigured and perfect sides. My cheeks colored slightly as I repeated his words, "Fear can turn to love."

He stared. I stared back earnestly. Slowly, comprehension spread across his features, bringing them back to life. Warm, mellow candlelight flickered in his eyes. His lips parted in disbelief. Then he tentatively covered my hands with his own and pressed into them with his cheekbones. Although I could see his sorrow melting away, his eyes still questioned mine. How can you bear to look at this face? He reached out and trailed his fingers along my cheek, then my neck. I breathed in sharply, going hot and cold at the same time. Fear and uncertainty clouded his eyes until he realized that I was only enjoying his sensitive touch. He began to relax and believe in my words. He embraced me in his powerful arms while he hesitantly moved his face towards mine. I laid my hands against his chest and felt his steady heartbeat. Our lips moved closer and closer together. His pulse quickened along with mine. And at that moment, irrepressible longing fused our hearts. We both closed our eyes. He shivered as I surrendered to his touch and pressed my lips silently to his. Then, he held me as I weakened in his arms. His soft lips were warm, and they tasted faintly of blackcurrant wine. Chills erupted over my body as he slowly worked his lips down to my neck, nibbling at my collarbone. I stroked the back of his neck and he sighed as he returned to my lips. Then, he deepened the kiss and leaned over me. And in that moment, I utterly trusted him. I submitted to his slow advance and soon felt the stone floor against my back, soothing my feverish skin. He rested on his forearms above me and entwined his fingers in my hair. Then, he broke the kiss for a moment and gazed into my eyes. "Christine, I love you," he breathed, bending down to kiss me more intensely. I abandoned thought and let the dream descend…