A/N: This is my first Phanfic. Sorry if there's any historical issues but I obviously wasn't born during the 1800s. This takes place right before the end of the film, Christine and Raoul have just left on the boat and the mob is coming for the Phantom. Also, the Opera is still on fire. It has some R/C (but I love E/C as well) but it's mainly a friendship story that's meant to be funny and serious all in one. Please enjoy…...Or I'll punjab you!
Never had the Opera Populaire been so silent.
In all its years, the world-renowned opera house had stood as a monument of culture, of art, of music that brought people to tears and never seemed to stop even after the curtain was closed.
But now the music had finally ended.
Or rather, it was on fire. The entire opera house was being consumed in flames from the fallen chandelier. The audience had all rushed out of the exits. No one had died in the fire that was now pouring out the windows. The only people left other than Piangi's corpse- which still wore the Phantom's lasso- were Christine Daaé and the Viscount Raoul de Chagny -who were safe in a small boat, paddling away from the opera catacombs- the mob of people, and the Opera Ghost, all of which were underground.
The only sound was the crackle of fire as it ate away at the building. Never had the Opera Populaire been so silent. But deep down below, there were the yells and shouts of the mob as the furious people of the opera marched down the tunnels towards the catacombs. The group held torches, pitchforks, guns, swords, stones, anything they could find to make the Opera Ghost suffer. Leading the pack were Richard Firmin, Gilles Andre, and Carlotta Giudicelli.
"Monsieur Firmin?" asked one of the mob members over the noise, a stagehand who'd worked with Joseph Buquet.
"What?" he spat, tightening his grip on his rifle.
"What do you plan to do to the Phantom? When we find him, that is. Shoot him?"
Firmin stopped in his tracks and turned slowly to the young man behind him. "Have you not been present the last year?"
"Of course, sir, but-"
"This man has terrorized my opera house."
"Our opera house." Andre corrected, holding a torch.
"He's extorted money from us for months on end! He's ruined performance after performance, murdered two people in cold blood, threatened us with everything line in the book, forced us to put on his play, and now," He was shouting so loud his voice carried all the way through the tunnels they'd just come from. "My entire investment is engulfed in flames because of this, this MONSTER! Andre and I are RUINED!" Firmin paused, catching his breath. "And here you stand, asking if I plan to simply shoot the beast? Oh, no, young man. I plan on doing much more than that. We all are!"
"Yeah!" The mob echoed.
"We'll make this demon suffer twice the torture he gifted us!" he shouted.
"We'll hang him upside down until he's numb!" someone yelled.
"Beat him till he's black and blue!"
"Lock him in the smallest cage!"
"Starve it!"
"Crucify the demon!"
"We'll make 'im pay for what 'e did to my Piangi!" Carlotta piped. "We'll tie each limb to a 'orse and let them run till 'e's torn into pieces!"
"Let's make this Opera Ghost wish he were dead!" Andre yelled, raising the torch. And so they marched on, angered and empowered, towards the Phantom's lair.
Deep in the catacombs, past the misty lake, one more sound could be heard beyond the mob: Shattering glass.
The Phantom took another swing at the full-length mirror in front of him with the empty candelabra in his hands. Anger boiled his blood as the glass fell to the floor. He moved to the next one and did the same, furious thoughts clouding his mind. You let her go! Why did you release her, you fool? She was yours! She was going to give herself to you in order to save that boy she thought she loved! But you let her GO! Another broken mirror. He moved to the last one, the one that would lead to his one way out of the catacombs and far from the mob he knew was coming. And now she's gone! Gone and left you behind! He raised the candelabra, preparing to strike. You won't ever see Christine again! Never hear her sweet voice that brought you comfort in the darkness! The one you trained and nurtured for years! She's gone because you let her leave! WHY?
The Phantom took a swing at the glass and...stopped. Right before it made contact with the mirror. His hands trembled and his knees shook. The candelabra fell from his hands and he went to his knees. Anger had become sadness. Emptiness. "...Because…" he told his reflection, his voice wavering. "...I didn't want her to be with me because she had to be. Not for the sake of her Viscount. I wanted her...wanted her to love me. To want to be with me. When she...kissed me," he paused, smiling at the memory. But it turned to a long frown quickly. "...There was nothing there. I enjoyed it, reveled in it, but...she felt nothing. She didn't mean it. She only did it to save her precious patron. ...She could never love me.
"After all I've done, I was a fool to think she could. That anyone could. I'm a monster. A killer." Tears coming to his eyes, he looked at his hands. The hands that were red with the blood of Buquet and Piangi. "How could hands such as these even dream of touching someone as pure as Christine? It would taint her. Darken her. I didn't want that.
"She doesn't even care about me. Not at all. She's gone and left me for the mob. Abandoned me." He wiped his eyes and looked in the mirror again. "Well...what did you expect?" He got to his feet slowly and walked over to his music box. He took it in his hands and looked it over, again taking a seat. The monkey smiled at him with the same fake grin it always did. "The mob will be coming for me soon. What shall I do?" he asked it. No answer came. "I could hide. They may give up if they can't find me after a while. I could run through the mirror and take my chances outside the opera house." He stroked the monkey's face and shook his head. "No...none of those are good ideas. If the mob wants me...they may have me. It doesn't matter anymore...Nothing does." He looked towards the tunnels, the mob's shouts coming into earshot. "It's not like I've got anything to live for anyhow."
She tried her best to focus on the rowing. The steady sound of the paddle hitting the water. Raoul's strong shoulders under her hands. Anything other than what had just happened. But she could see the rope burns on Raoul's neck from the Phantom's noose.
"...Are you in pain?" she whispered, as if someone in the darkness may be listening.
"Not much. My neck is obviously sore and my body is exhausted, but really it's not horrible." Raoul told her, not missing a beat with the paddle.
"Those marks should heal in a few weeks' time...oh, Raoul, I was so frightened!" She hugged his back.
"It's alright, Christine." he told her, taking one hand off the paddle to hold hers. "It's over now. You're safe. We're safe. You can forget all that's happened tonight. The Phantom will never plague us again."
If that's is the case then why can I not stop thinking of him? Of the music lessons he gave me and the times he would sing to me from the shadows when I missed my father?
… Where did everything go so wrong? I thought he was my friend. I thought I could trust him. Now he nearly murdered the man I love. He's killed two people. How can the man who sang to me and the man who made me choose between him and Raoul… be the same man? Everything is such a mess. Piangi and Buquet are dead, Raoul nearly died, I nearly married the Phantom, the Opera Populaire is destroyed, there's a mob coming to… The mob! She'd been so worried about Raoul and having to choose between her life and his, she'd forgotten the pending mob coming to kill the Phantom!
Her mind reeled. She felt like she should do something, but why? This man has stalked you, lied to you, used you, and almost took away everything you've cared about! Whatever that mob does to him, he deserves-
Her thoughts were broken… by an echoing scream from behind. The Phantom.
The stage of Don Juan Triumphant flooded back to her mind before she could stop it. She could feel his arms around her as he sang lightly in her ear.
"Say you'll share with me one love,
One lifetime,
Lead me, save me from my solitude.
Say you'll want me with you here,
Beside you."
His voice...it was as if he was begging me to stay with him. And he was so gentle on the stage. I thought when he came out instead of Piangi, he was onto our plan and would be violent but...and then….I humiliated him. She could see his face, his unmasked face in front of her. His eyes were so sad, so full of pain, so...lost. He trusted me. He trusted me and I humiliated him in front of a full house. In his opera. But...I trusted him, too! And look what's he's done! How can I save him after that?
But he let you go, said a small voice in her head. You were going to stay with him to save Raoul, but he let you leave. He gave you your life.
Now you have to save his. Even after everything, you owe him that much.
Another scream, louder, bone chilling! "Raoul," Christine began, squeezing his shoulder a little. "Raoul, we have to stop this. We have to...to save the Phantom." Those final words were hard, but true.
The paddling stopped. Slowly, he turned to face her with a baffled expression. "Christine…" He took her hands. "You're overly emotional. You've been through a lot. You're not thinking clearly."
The screaming was seeming endless now. "My mind might not be working right, but my ears are! They're torturing him!"
"Christine, think what he's done to them! To you!"
"But that doesn't mean they can do that! Revenge doesn't do anything!"
"This man just kidnapped you and tried to kill me to make you his wife! And you want to defend him?"
"He let us go! He didn't have to do that, Raoul! He was going to win, I was going to stay! He could've killed you anyway! But he didn't. He freed us. We can't let them do this to him. What if...what if there is a chance there is good in him? I used to think so. We owe him his life because he gave us ours."
"Christine-"
"Raoul," They locked eyes in a silent battle. "...Please." she begged. "I know it's crazy. I know he's done unspeakable things, and you have no reason to do him any sort of favor. But...but for years he was a friend to me. And he released us when he had nothing to gain from doing so. Please, Raoul. What if there truly is something there worth saving? How can I simply leave him to such a horrid fate?"
Her fiance studied her for a moment. A sigh escaped him after a moment. "You are too good for this world, Christine," he told her. With that, he began to turn the boat around. Christine let out a thousand "thank you"s and "I love you"s.
"Don't thank me yet," Raoul said. "There is still a chance we are too late."