Hello readers!

Yes, another rewrite, but this story always was special to me. This is the rewrite of my first fic ever. I wrote it two years ago, first published on IMDb. It was also my first attempt at writing something in English. If it weren't of my fellow writer Lorien Urbani, I would've never written anything. Thanks my friend! I also need to thank those who encouraged me back then. I won't name you all, I believe you recognize yourselves. ;)

I absolutely had to rewrite this story, because it never was to my taste. Back then, I was not as fluent in English as I am now. There were many mistakes and I could never clearly put my French thoughts into suitable English phrases. Now, I feel it is closer to the story I always wanted to tell.

The chapters are longer than in the original version of my story, some were merged together to make longer ones and I added many more details. :)

Before you read this, you have to know it is movie based, with some Leroux hints.

So, here's my rewrite.

Enjoy!

Kaya

Chapter 1

After the fire he started out of anger and madness, fire which destroyed so many lives, the Phantom of the Opera wandered in the forest in the suburbs of Paris for many days. His tears burnt his tired eyes, blurring his vision and he thought he would never see clearly again. Christine… His innocent angel, Erik knew he would never see her again. She was gone, she went with that…that boy. His angel, the one who brought him out of his solitude, that loneliness slowly killing him, was gone…

All of this, Christine coming into his life, her voice lulling his mind into bliss, was but a sweet, but painful memory now. Four days had passed since that last time he saw her and yet it felt as though a lifetime was between Erik and the tragedy on Don Juan Triumphant…

He was tired, so cold and starving. As he came out of the woods, he found a small market place, but he had no money on him and he could not bring himself to steal food. Searching the garbage he found enough food that was not too spoiled to sooth his hunger a bit. After four days without eating anything, this was almost a feast. The Phantom kept searching the thrash bins, not really knowing what he was looking for, until he found an old coat. It was almost ragged, but at least it would keep him warm. In the pocket, Erik found a scarf, it would be perfect to hide his face. What he feared most was that someone might see him, and recognize him.

Still mastering the art of hiding, the Phantom managed to remain unnoticed. As he watched the busy streets from a filthy alley, Erik thought his tired eyes were playing tricks on him when he saw two women he knew all too well. Madame Giry, arm in arm with her daughter were walking slowly across from his hiding place.

Deciding upon what to do, the Phantom followed them until they arrived to a small house Avenue des Peupliers. Staying hidden until dusk, it gave him time to gather his last strength and the little he had left. He hated himself for what he was about to do, he despised pity and did not want charity, but he knew he needed his old friend's help or he would die before the end of the week. Though he wanted his misery to end, suicidal never was in his thoughts.

He did not have a clue as to what to say to Madame Giry. He certainly could not just knock and say; Hello, I'm back! Thinking about a way to make his appearance, Erik suddenly wondered if Madame Giry would be able to tell him if Christine and her…fiancé, were alright. Somehow, he needed to know if they made it back to the surface safely after he told them to go…

With a heavy sigh, the Phantom made his way to the small house's threshold. His hand felt numb and he could not tell if it was because of his nervously or from the cold. Shrugging, he knocked three times on the yellow door. He realized then that it could be Meg Giry answering to him and not her mother… There was no time to turn back, for the door opened slowly before him.

Madame Giry's tired face appeared and he was grateful it was not her daughter as he feared. Her eyes widened when she saw him and her hand clutched at her heart. Erik swallowed hard, trying his best to find his voice as she looked at him coldly.

-"Good evening, Elizabeth." He murmured, his voice husky as though it was out of practice

The woman's face was deadly pale as she asked herself how he managed to get out of the hell he unleashed. Making sure her daughter was not around, Madame Giry made the Phantom enter, praying she was not making a mistake. They had been friends ever since she rescued him from the gipsy camp, but with everything that happened since Christine, she did not know what to think about her friend anymore.

Though, as she took a closer look at him, Elizabeth Giry came to one conclusion: he was a broken, harmless man… With a sigh, she guided him to the living room. She saw him touch the couch before he actually sat down. She understood by this strange gesture that he did not have comfort in a while, not since he left the opera house at least.

-"I am sorry, Lizzie, I did not know where to go." He said when she made no attempt to speak

Madame Giry could not help but smile. This was not the speech of a mad man, her old friend was back and though he seemed tired, she was glad he was alive and safe. She patted his hand gently, even though she knew he did not like to be touched. It was merely a gesture to tell him not to think about any of this, that she was happy he was alright. They were silent a moment, Erik kept staring at his hands resting on his lap, until Madame Giry decided to break the heavy silence.

-"I know what happened that night." She said calmly, hoping not to trigger his anger. "Christine came for a visit, two days after the disaster."

The tired man stared at her. She seemed glad he had let the two lovers go, since she gave him a warm, sincere smile. Relief flood his entire being and he found himself breathing more easily now, that was until he began coughing and shivering. Elizabeth helped him before the hearth and lit a fire. Its warmth was the most wonderful feeling Erik had had in a while.

-"I lost her, forever." He mumbled, his gaze dancing in sync with the flames. "My angel of music, she's gone…"

-"You did the right thing, Erik. You let her go with the one her heart chose, it was a honorable gesture. For that, you will never completely loose her. You will always be special to her. You proved her, by letting them go, just how much you really loved her. I know she understood it, but she could not deny her heart, she loved another."

Erik smiled sadly as tears rolled down both perfect and deformed cheeks. Not really thinking about what he was doing, he pulled the little blue ring Christine had given him from his pocket. He did not look at it, he did not have the strength. He only kept it in his palm, hidden in his fist. As he was about to take his first peek at the piece of jewelry since he left his home, both friends heard noises coming from the second floor. Meg was awake, probably because of the noise they were making.

-"Maman?" Asked the sleepy voice of little Giry

She seemed to be still upstairs, but Madame Giry rose up just to make sure her curious daughter would not come any closer. The Phantom, on his part, remained silent and motionless. His friend would take care of Meg, he was not worried. Slowly, not caring about anything else, he opened his fingers, slowly revealing the small ring. Seeing it again was like a punch in his stomach and tears instantly filled his grey-green eyes.

-"Go back to sleep, Marguerite." The woman ordered severely. "It is late and you have an audition early in the morning."

-"Is it your arthritis keeping you awake again?" Meg asked, concerned

-"Yes. Bed, now!"

Listening to make sure Meg was obeying her, Madame Giry returned to the living room once she heard the bedroom door close. Elizabeth sighed heavily, helping her friend on his feet. He followed her without a word, as though in a trance. It was only when she took his hand to guide him down the stairs that he reacted, tearing his eyes from Christine's ring. Madame Giry opened the small door to her cellar and they both entered the dark room, where she lit a few candles before beginning to put together old cushions and blankets. It was rather small and quite rudimentary, but at least Erik would be comfortable for tonight.

-"It is quiet here, don't worry." She declared after a moment. "Meg never comes down here, she thinks there are ghosts."

-"She's right, I guess for tonight…"

-"You can stay as long as you need." She continued, ignoring his comment. "Take your time to put yourself back together."

-"Thank you, Liz, but I won't stay long." He sighed tiredly. "I will wait until everything settles at the opera house, then I'll try to rebuild my home…"

-"The mob made its way down to the lake, Erik, they probably took some of your things…" She said softly. "The gendarmes searched for you and for all I know they probably still do. They probably damaged the house of the lake…"

Erik nodded, fully knowing that things would never be the same again and thought he wanted to blame the world, he was the one responsible for all this mess. Madame Giry left him a moment, to come back a few minutes later with a small crate in her hands.

-"I have something here that belongs to you." She whispered, giving him the wooden box

Erik did not know what this could be and he was reluctant about opening that crate. After a minute or so of hesitation, he lifted the lid with precautions and gasped when he saw its content. In the bottom of the box was his shield, his only protection against the cruelties of the outside world. His white leather mask.

-"Marguerite brought it back to me, that night and I kept it safe since. Maybe, unconsciously, I knew you would resurface someday and that you would want it back."

-"Thank you, Elizabeth." He murmured, staring at the half mask in his hand, then back at his friend. "For everything."