Christine walked through the empty streets of Paris. She shivered as she pulled her cloak closer to her body, the cold air relentless. It was dark save for the moonlight that shone down from the night sky, and she was, at this moment, extremely thankful she knew her way clearly.

The path to the Opera Populaire, in which she had resided and worked at for many years, came to her naturally.

It was as she reached the scorched, ruined building that she looked around, suddenly self-conscious; thankfully, she was alone. And so Christine stepped into the structure that remained, treading as carefully as possible through some of the rubble. The opera house was, surprisingly, only engulfed in flames in its outermost part, or so she realized as she reached what used to be backstage. The place was, without a doubt, abandoned and, well, a mess. Everything was left scattered from the last performance, but she didn't have the chance to linger much. Christine walked to what had once been her dressing room, touching the plaque with her name on the door before entering.

The soprano breathed heavily, memories flooding back with ease as she looked at her possessions. Her eyes softened at the sight of a red scarf and the withered rose and black ribbon beside it. Christine put the scarf inside the small bag she carried with her, taking the rose into her hands for a moment before also putting it inside the bag. She approached her mirror, seeing her own reflection staring at her, and she pushed it with might, hands on the cold glass. It yielded, much to her surprise, and she stepped into the darkness that lied behind. The young primadonna walked through the hallway blindly. She jumped, a small screech leaving her as she felt something brush against her leg as it ran past. She started shaking in fear, her step picking up the pace. Christine reached the lake in a few minutes, just slightly out of breath. The poor girl was still shaking as she navigated through the water with the boat that had been left there, apparently unused. Her heart sunk as she saw the gate open, fearing the worst. She practically jumped off the boat as soon as it touched land, nearly losing her balance.

Everything was in disarray; the mirrors that had once leaned against the wall were shattered and the organ was covered with sheet music, looking utterly abandoned. She froze in her place, heart racing, as she felt a presence approaching her from behind. He spoke lowly, close behind her.

"What are you doing here, Christine? Have you come back to mock me, in my pitiful state?" The icy tone of his words sent a chill down her spine. The girl turned, slowly removing the hood of her cloak. The man most deemed a ghost looked nothing like what she remembered. His mask was on, but there was no wig in sight; his once impeccable attire was reduced to his trousers, shoes, and a white shirt. Clearly, he had not expected to meet anyone at that moment. He continued to speak as he circled her, face yielding no emotion. "Is it not dangerous for a Vicomte's betrothed to be out in the streets this late at night?"

"I have no betrothed," she shot back, her lips pressing to a firm line. Christine could see, out of the corner of her eye, his skeptical look.

"Really? Then the papers must be terribly wrong. Was it not three months ago that the boy announced you were to be married before the year's end? All the media has been in a frenzy, wondering how the future Vicomtess will look in her wedding dress, whether she will leave the stage for good-"

"Enough!" She turned to face him, boldly grabbing his white shirt and pushing him away in her anger, dropping her bag in the process. Her eyes softened quickly and her rage dissipated as she muttered an apology. "I have not come here to mock you. I wished to speak to you, and perhaps... ask you something."

"Speak, then. Whatever it is you may ask, whether I answer or not will be for me to decide." Christine breathed deeply, considering where to start. Something critical that had slipped her mind before suddenly came to her.

"What is your name?"

The Phantom's eyes widened slightly, and he was visibly uneasy. "I was not... christened when I was born," he said, looking down. Christine could not help her sadness for him. "The only real name I've known is one I adopted by accident, Erik."

"Erik... it's a beautiful name."

"Please, madame de Chagny, I don't wish for your pity." She sighed. "I am not a De Chagny. We were to be married next month." Christine saw the look on his face and his eyes. Were?, they asked.

"It is no secret that I was engaged to Raoul. After what happened here in the Opera House, our relationship was strained to an extent. He could see that I still felt affection for you, even after everything that happened, though he tried to hide his discomfort for me. Everything began to fall back, yet not apart; what we thought was romantic love, we realized, was just deep trust and affection. We felt love, yes, but one siblings might feel for each other, not a couple. Raoul, eventually, fell deeply in love with a family friend, but did not break off our engagement for my sake, as he thought I was in love with him still.

Raoul and I chose to make each other happy, though his reputation will, most likely, suffer greatly. Both of us called off the engagement weeks ago but have kept it a secret from the public and remained close friends. Tomorrow, he will inform the media of our separation. I've come here because no matter how much I tried to stop it every time, my heart keeps choosing you. My mind chose Raoul because of the affection we shared and the security he could offer me, and it seemed right at the time, yet it did not work out because we were both hopelessly in love with other people. For once, I am acting on what is an almost childish whim. I've come here to ask if you would forgive me, perhaps let us have another chance. I want to be happy, with you." Christine stopped, big tears having escaped her and begun rolling down her cheeks as she looked down, closing her eyes. "I've hurt you deeply. I was the one that left you when you needed someone, but..." She trailed off, scared to look at her Angel. Christine heard the soft sound of water dripping, then the thud of something much heavier hitting the floor. Her eyes opened.

Erik was on his knees just across from her. Tears were trailing down his uncovered cheek and from beneath the mask onto the floor. She could see the deepest despair as he looked her in the eye. "Oh, Christine," he whispered. "How could you possibly want this hideous monster? I have killed, terrorized, abused of your innocence... all of my sins, the ways I've wronged you before. I deserve none of your tenderness, no matter how I wish I could change the past." Horrible sobs shook his body as he softly clutched her small hand in both of his own. "Please, find happiness with someone who deserves you, not a murderer. Forget my cursed existence, find peace with a rightful man, I'm a wanted criminal, and you deserve so much more."

"Erik, please. I could try to leave you behind," she sobbed, her voice failing her as she choked up. "but my heart would be too heavy to get too far away. You could have killed Raoul and kept me captive, yet you did not. I saw your face, the way it turned from the look of a madman to one of understanding, of love, and you let me go. You were the angel who sang me to sleep when I cried for my father as a young girl, the one who left roses in my room to cheer me up after a hard rehearsal. Your past mistakes are nothing but scars to me. Scars don't bleed, don't hurt, but they're remains of what has wounded us before. They can be forgotten the same way they healed, with time. Please, my Angel, let me help you. Let me give you the affection you deserve. Let me fix your broken soul with my love."

Both of them cried freely as Christine dropped to her knees as well. She brought her free hand to his face, caressing it softly. He leaned into her tender touch. "I am yours, Christine, if you'll truly have me."

"Nothing would make me happier." And she unceremoniously launched herself in an embrace towards him, making them both fall over. She laughed, gazing at his genuine and bright smile. Slowly, she lifted her left hand towards the mask he wore, placing her fingers beneath it. He tried to pull away and turn his head, but the affection in her eyes defeated him. As Erik felt the mask leave his face, he closed his eyes and braced for her horrified scream. But it never came, and he opened his eyes.

There was no pity, no horror, no disgust in her look. Christine saw the face not even his own mother could bear to glimpse at with nothing but love and curiosity. She moved her hand, touching the scarred and sensitive flesh. The soprano then leaned closer and pressed a kiss to his deformed cheek, just below his eye and next to where part of his nose should have been. "Christine, I love you." The words burst out without thinking, and the girl could see his blush soon after. She didn't answer, as she wished to show him; with care she pulled both of them up so they were sitting close to each other. Then, placing her hands on his chest and behind his head, she kissed him with all the love she could muster.

They broke apart, and Erik rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. "My Christine, my Angel... I will redeem myself, for you. Every single day, for as long as you'll have me, I promise to fight, to be the man you deserve." In tears, she took his hand.

"And I promise to love you every step of the way."

A/N: SZ here. Thank you so much for reading! I would appreciate if you reviewed with your opinion, constructive criticism, or messaged me about any mistakes you find. Note that english is not my first language and this is unbeta'd. My muse for this AU has not died yet. Perhaps I could make this into a two-shot. Please review, favorite, or follow if you think I should add to this story, or if you enjoyed it. You can find me on tumblr as fearsmoke if you wish to follow or message me through there.

Edit: Thanks to a wonderful reviewer, "His Christine Forever", I found out about the horrible text that the website added to my story for some reason. Thank you for your kind words and for bringing this to my attention. It was unreadable before! AGH!