Hey all! I was watching LND last night and I found myself wanting a HEA but didn't just want to change the ending. So, I've made a few changes. First being, Gustave doesn't exist. Sorry folks, I love him in the musical but for this FF to work the way I want it to, he can't be there. And the other major thing I'm changing is that Raoul is going to be abusive to Christine at times during this fic along with mentions of previous abuse. If mentions, or scenes of abuse of any kind offend you, do not read this fic. Yes, there will be Raoul bashing, sorry to those who love him. And yes, this is AU so expect things and characters to be a bit different than they were in the musical.

I hope you all enjoy this! I enjoy any kinds of feedback: reviews or PMs so feel free to do either. But please, no flames. If you don't like something, please tell me, but don't be immature about it. Thank you!

-Shadow

"I can't believe this! This is such an embarrassment!" Raoul de Changy snapped as he poured himself a drink. A frown seemed as though it was permanent on his face, his hair a bit too long to be fashionable, but he still looked handsome as he did ten years ago.

"Darling, I'm sure Mr. Hammerstein meant no slight," his wife tried to placate him with a smile, her voice soft. She had been born to be on stage, she had thrived there, but now she was putting her acting skills to use on a daily basis so her husband wouldn't get so upset he'd raise a hand to her.

"It's ridiculous, Christine!" He said, throwing her a look that was full of anger.

Christine de Changy, formally known as Christine Daae looked to the ground and clasped her hands together. She knew better than to argue with him, it would just anger him more. She didn't know when exactly her husband had stopped loving her, but she knew he no longer did. The sad thing was, she had nowhere to go if she left him, if he'd even let her go. He saw her as a possession, the owner of the beauty of France, the owner of the voice that could turn heads miles away. No, he would never let her go.

A knock on the hotel door had her jumping and at Raoul's look, she rushed to the door and opened it to see a messenger.

"Yes?" She asked and he held out an envelope. She glanced at it and saw her husband's name scrawled across it. Something about the penmanship was familiar, but she couldn't place where she'd seen it.

"A letter from Mr. Hammerstein, ma'am." The man said and she smiled at him, her blue eyes softening at the man's nervous look.

"Thank you," she whispered and he nodded before walking away. She closed the door.

"Well?" Raoul snapped. "Who was it?"

"It's a letter, for you." Christine said and held the letter out to him as he downed the rest of his drink. He snatched the letter from her and opened it. His eyes ran over the letter and he let out a huff of laughter before reaching for his coat. "What does it say?" She quietly asked, truly curious.

"It seems Hammerstein wants to meet with me in the hotel bar." Raoul said as he poured himself a quick shot of brandy.

"Alone?" Christine frowned. Why didn't he want her there? She was the one who was going to be performing, after all.

"Yes. Alone." Raoul rolled his eyes before shooting back the drink.

"Raoul?" Christine asked, taking a timid step forward and his eyes snapped to her.

"What?" He snapped.

"N-nothing. Never mind." She whispered and looked away.

"No, say what's on your mind, darling." She winced at his tone and had to resist as he stalked towards her until he was almost touching her.

"Just please… don't drink so much. Please," she pleaded and after a second she glanced up at him only then to have pain explode in her cheek. She gasped and brought a hand up to her cheek.

"Never tell me what to do, Christine." Raoul snapped before turning on his heel, almost stumbling and made his way out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Christine sank onto the piano bench with a soft sob, tears welling in her eyes as she cradled her now red cheek. She hated the man Raoul had become. She dreamed of the man he used to be, the man who whispered in her ear what their future together would be like, the man who had shown her what it was like to be loved. Well, maybe not completely.

Suddenly from behind her, music started playing and she jumped to her feet, whirling to face the piano. There was some sort of music playing… toy on the piano. She had taken note of it before but Raoul had stolen her attention before it could really hold her attention for too long. The tune was vaguely familiar, pulling at memories long lost and she let out a shaky breath, taking a step closer, her blue eyes wide.

"It can't be…" She whispered and touched the player. As she did so, the music stopped and the lights flickered before the doors to the balcony were thrown open, letting in a gust of air. She took a few steps back as she saw a tall, dark form in the shadows. Fear filled her and she glanced at the hotel door, wondering if she could make it there before the mystery man got to her. But then the man stepped forward into the light. Light bounced off half of his face that was covered in a white mask.

"E-Erik?" Christine managed to get out as he entered the room completely.

"Hello, Christine." He replied, his green eyes searing into hers. The room span for a moment before all she knew was darkness.

"Wake up, Angel." She heard and felt fingers trailing across her cheek. She couldn't remember the last time Raoul had touched her like that. With gentleness. She let out a sigh and leaned into the warmth of the hand, wincing at the pain in her jaw and opened her eyes only to suck in a breath as she saw Erik in front of her, sitting on the foot stool.

"Erik?" Christine wasn't sure if her mind was playing tricks on her. Was the Phantom of the Opera really in her hotel room?

"I'm here Christine," he answered, his eyes holding a warmth she found herself drowning in.

God, ten years. Ten years since she had last seen her Angel of Music. Ten years since she had her heart broken. Ten years since she had tasted what passion really was. Ten years since she had finally come to know who the man behind the mask was.

"H-how?" Christine asked and his hand dropped from her face to land in his lap. She missed his hand on her face already. God, she wanted to crawl into his lap and have him hold her as if she were a young child!

"That doesn't matter right now, Christine. What happened to your face?" He asked and she could see a hint of rage in his eyes. And fear for Raoul rose in her. She may not have loved the man anymore, but she was his wife.

"It's nothing," she whispered, looking away. "Just a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?" Erik hissed and she winced. "A slap is not nothing, Christine! What if he does something worse?" The way he said it probably was supposed to be rhetorical, but Christine winced again and found herself rubbing her wrist and glancing at him.

Horror filled his green eyes and he shook his head.

"No." He said. "You were supposed to be safe. Loved. Cherished." He said and gently took her wrist into his hands and ran his hands over it, feeling the bump where her wrist hadn't healed just right. "Oh, my Christine." He whispered and suddenly anger filled her and she was on her feet, pacing away from him.

"Your Christine?" She laughed dryly. "I stopped being yours when you left me alone in the middle of the night! I came to you, wanting to be with you for, well, for forever and then I awoke and you were gone!" She was almost yelling and tears welled in her eyes as she remembered how much it had hurt to wake and find him gone, only a rose in his place.

"I thought it was what was best for you!" Erik said, rising to his feet, following after her, his tone pleading. "I haven't stopped thinking about that night! The way you were so innocent and became a woman in my arms," he whispered and Christine looked away from his eyes that suddenly had a heat to them that she knew would make her feel things if she looked for too long.

"Erik… why are you here?" Christine asked after a moment and he sighed and from his jacket he pulled out a music folder and placed it on the piano.

"I'm here for you, Christine." He said and her eyes widened. "But if I can't have you, then I'd like to hear you sing, one last time for me." He said and pushed the music towards her.

"Wh-what?" She blinked a few times and grabbed the music, not sure on what else to do. She held it to her chest as her thoughts whirled in her mind. "Mr. Hammerstein is expecting me to sing for him, and-"

"I know what Hammerstein is paying you." Erik interrupted her. "I will double it if you will sing that one song for me. One night. One performance. In five night's time."

Double the money? God that would take care of Raoul's debt and give them spending room. She glanced down at the music she was holding to her chest then up at Erik. He slowly walked over to her and stopped about a foot away but reached out to touch her cheek again, the one that Raoul had slapped.

"I would never hurt you, Christine." He whispered and she swallowed. But he had, he had left her. "If you accept, I will see you at rehearsal at Phantasma tomorrow at nine o'clock." He said and made his way to the balcony.

"Wait!" Christine called, not sure why she was stalling him. Erik paused and looked at her. They stared into each other's eyes for a minute before he stepped back towards her, holding out a rose with a black ribbon tied around the stem.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Angel." Erik quietly said and then was gone. She stood there with wide eyes for a few minutes until the door to the room was thrust open and an angry Raoul strode in, muttering about something. She put the hand holding the rose behind her but stepped forward, ready to tell him about the new deal.

"Raoul?" Christine said and he ignored her, pouring himself a drink. "Raoul!" She snapped and he looked at her with angered eyes. "I've been offered a new deal," she started and he raised an eyebrow, "the man will play twice the amount Hammerstein will." She said and Raoul's eyes glinted.

"His name?" Raoul asked. She glanced down at the music.

"Mister… Y."

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