Full Summary: She made her decision that fateful night when all she knew fell apart. Time has passed since then, but her memories and guilt refuse to let her go, causing both her and her husband to fall into horrid fights that echo in her moments alone. Unable to let go, she becomes consumed with a past she cannot change and ruled by emotions she cannot control.

He watched helplessly as his wife was swallowed by a force not even he could control. A force believed to have died within the fiery blaze which had consumed the Opera Populaire. It wasn't long until he followed suit, consumed by an emotion just as powerful as hers. And though he desperately tried to fight against it, only time stood in the way before the two were to be separated once again, perhaps for good.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the following: Gaston Leroux's Le Fantôme de l'Opéra, Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera, nor any other adaptations or story this fanfiction might make reference to. I do own anything which might've come out of my own head, however, so that's a start. Also, any similarities to your own plot, story, characters, imaginary world, or real world are completely coincidental and are not an attempt to infringe upon your "fanfiction termed" copyright. Don't sue!

Rated M for: language, dark themes, and adult themes.

Special Thanks to: As always, my own beloved Christine, Renaly, who has been such a huge help in not only editing but helping me with this story. Also, a huge thanks and love to all my readers, both new and old, who've taken time out of their lives to dedicate a few hours to reading my stories and showing their support. I wouldn't be anywhere near where I am today without support from all of you.


Hide the Scars 'till Morning

I. Though They Ran, She Burned


The kiss had done nothing. No, that wasn't true. It had done something, just not what Christine had wanted. She knew, somehow, someway, that being with this mysterious, terrifying figure was right. She had thought that if she showed her willingness, a silent confession of hidden fire—what was at first smoldering embers but, as the months passed, had burned brighter than she ever could have imagined—that burned deep inside her heart, he would accept her. And love her, if love was indeed what she felt.

But no amount of childish hope and wishing would allow for something like this to happen. She opened her heart. She showed the towering man who held the heavy burden of his past on his shoulders her own innocent version of what love must mean. He cried before her at her words, his face contorting even more so, before pushing her away.

The dream shattered in that moment, leaving Christine dazed. This was not what she had wanted. Deep in her heart she wanted both men to live, and she knew that her kiss would assure that. But also, it would give a possibility of living a life she never thought possible with a man she felt something for. Yet no amount of thinking could place a solid name on the emotion she felt, just as no amount of staring and silent tears would return the moment to its former, solid perfection.

The kiss they shared…it was nothing like the ones she and Raoul had shared. It was both passionate and innocent, and she desperately wanted more. But as her tutor wept, she knew that the moment would forever be left in her memories, and those would surely fade soon enough.

Christine continued to stand in the murky water, unsure of what this all meant. It wasn't until the demanding voice of her fallen angel told her and Raoul to leave did she finally move. She rushed to Raoul, the only person who seemed to be consistent. The only person who's affections she could count on, instead of second-guess at any moment. Though she would never feel this unexplainable feeling with Raoul, in his arms her world was safe, simple, and protected. As she took off the last of the ropes bounding him to the iron grate, she accepted his embrace.

The child in her assured her that the world he gave her was the right choice. She wasn't able to survive in any other world.

The events that followed seemed like a daze. In her trance—induced by her more practical, innocent self—she blindingly believed every hurried whisper Raoul spoke into her ear as she was guided into the boat which had once carried her to a majestic world and ignored the growing sound of a mob approaching accented by the cracking and falling rock around them. And as her fiancé's whispers dimmed down, and as she was brought back to what was happening around her, she realized that she would never return to this world, a world which was already beginning to be destroyed.

This wasn't possible, Christine wouldn't let it be. But she knew it was true, that this world had collapsed under its own futile attempts at existing, and it would never come again.

One last look. That was all she truly wanted. One last glimpse at this world she was raised in; the world she had come to view as more of a home than the ballet dormitories she slept in every night since she was a small child. However, the moment she looked back she wished that she could forever burn the image she saw.

There her Angel stood, helpless and defeated. He was broken, inside and out, in every meaning of the word, yet still his eyes stayed steadily on her as the boat carried her further and further away from him. His voice let out a string of words, following her until they found her heart and buried deep in its beating flesh. The words were melodious, like his voice, and even in sorrow they would break any mortal man. And as she turned her gaze away, tears slipping down her burning cheeks, she could still feel his eyes on her. Even when she and Raoul disappeared into the vast catacombs, his eyes were always on her.

He will be fine, she assured herself, trying to think of something that would alleviate the horrible guilt swallowing her whole. He had made it all those years before and had come out unscathed. At least enough to continue living the life he was. But to call it a life now, after what she had done…

Sobs threatened to break through her façade as she thought of how he had turned her away. All this time he had wanted her, and when she finally thought that she knew what she wanted, it was thrown back at her. The consequences of being a spoiled child.

She looked up at Raoul and attempted to smile at him. Attempted to show that she was glad to be with him, in his safe arms while the madman was surely left behind for the mob. Yes, this was her reality now. Christine would be wed to the dashing and brave Vicomte, never to be troubled again except for the occasional demands of children and dinner parties. Though these thoughts filled her more with dread than with comfort, she continued smiling anyway. Yes, this was right. She belonged with him.

The boat safely brushed against the edge of the shore, Raoul leaping out to pull it in further. Once land was safely under the wooden boards, he reached out and helped Christine onto the shore as well. Her smile remained on her face, even as he spoke to her.

"We'll be safe now, Christine," he said joyously, embracing her tightly against his soaked frame. Behind him stood a long stairwell, one of the few exits she knew about during her stay with the infamous Phantom. Raoul must've happened upon it by mistake while he guided their boat, desperately looking for an exit.

Stepping back from her, Raoul kissed her cheek before taking her hand in his and leading her towards the stairwell. Small stones and pebbles crunched under their hurried footsteps as they approached the opening, Christine turning her ignorant smile towards the black opening. It was dark and small, but Christine could see the small sliver of light trying to burst forth through the opening at the top. All they had to do now was climb and hope that the blackness promising to swallow them whole would not hinder their ability to climb as fast as their legs could carry them.

She eagerly followed him, thoroughly convinced now that what she was doing was right. Her angel would move on, be happy, find someone who would be able to fully accept him. He would find a new home…out in the countryside perhaps. He would find a doctor, one who could assist him in helping his condition. Then he'd get married, and produce more operas. And perhaps one day down the road she'd listen in rapture as the opera would be performed to the delight of audiences around the world. Yes, it would all happen, surely it had to. And she'd be with Raoul—safe, sweet, gentle Raoul—and live happily. Yes…That was what would happen.

"Christine? Are you feeling well?" Raoul asked her, concern audible as he stopped before the first step.

"Hm?" she muttered, still partially in her fantasy world where the Phantom would be happy at last. "Yes, Raoul, I'm fine."

"We must hurry, darling," he urged, his hand tight around hers as he began to walk with her up the stairs. "A fire started upstairs, and I'm sure it has engulfed this entire theater by now. If we don't hurry we might not get out."

"A fire?" Christine whispered, stopping.

No, she thought.

No, no, no, no. How was she unable to see it before? She had seen the small pieces of the floor above falling down, but had paid it no mind. They were small, and were probably falling due to the weathered stone alone, at least that was what she convinced herself at the time. But now as she looked around, she could see it. More stone, falling from the weight as the opera house went down, floor by floor. It wouldn't be long until the whole building collapsed upon itself, and even less time until the mob which was following Raoul would find her teacher. He wouldn't be able to get out in time. He would get captured by the mob, the flames, or the falling stone. Nowhere was safe, and had she stayed he would've had more time to escape. But now he would surely die alone, rejected, and unloved.

And it was all her fault.

Before the thought had fully formed in her mind, Christine had broken away from Raoul. She ran down the few steps she had climbed, stumbling over the weathered stone as her mind flew as fast as her feet. He was alone, all alone, because of her. She left him, like the heartless little wretch she was, to die completely alone at the hands of people who hated him.

Raoul shouted at her, demanding she come back as he chased after her. She ignored him, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes into her hair as she sprinted past the entrance of the staircase and towards the water. No matter what, she had to get back to him. She had to! All that remained in her mind was how he would not fight against whatever may hurt him, not fight to live. Her delicate world was already being destroyed, she could not stand by and let it just happen!

Christine hardly noticed the icy water soak her feet as she stepped onto the shore of the lake. Her first thought was to take the boat, but she knew that Raoul would catch her by then and drag her away. So, without a moment's pause, she leapt into the freezing water, desperately hoping that she'd stay afloat long enough to each her fallen angel.

"Christine!" Raoul shouted, his voice desperate as he made his way quickly to the shore. Catching up to her as she tried to tread the water, he grabbed her about the waist and lifted her high enough to where her feet were no longer touching the ground. The action was immediately accompanied by a broken sob and screaming from her.

"No, Raoul, let me go!"

"You know I can't," he replied, dragging her out of the water with much struggle. She fought against him, her actions growing wilder with each passing second.

Why couldn't he understand that if she didn't go back she would surely die as well?!

"You have to!" she shrieked, trying to claw her away out of his grasp. He only pulled her back harder, forcing her back towards the pressing darkness of the staircase. Facing the only exit, the lack of light frightened her even more. The void was grinning at her, promising that it would completely envelope her and never let her go again.

"Raoul," she pleaded, her voice stopped as a sob broke out from her raw throat. "Let me go back. We have to save him. We owe it to hi—"

"We owe that monster nothing!" he hissed, not stopping his trek back. "He let us go, Christine, what more do you want?"

"But we can't leave him!"

"Christine," he said solemnly, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look at him. His brown eyes, normally so warm and kind, were now hardened as they burned into her eyes. "I will not let you go back. You will die. Even if you get to him, you will die. His is not a world you can survive in."

Though his words were meant to be calming, Christine could only feel the hysteria boil inside of her. God would punish her if she didn't go back and save him, truly He would! She knew it! It would be the only rightful punishment, after all.

Tears running freely down her face, she made one last attempt. Ripping her arm from Raoul's grip, she made a dash once again for the water. But Raoul was quick, and she sobbed as he grabbed hold of her and forced her against him. Within moments, he had picked her up and was climbing the stairs with her in tow. And though she fought against him, he took all the blows until they had finally reached the beam of light which guided them upwards.

Christine was let down, but by this time she no longer tried to fight Raoul away. It was too late, it would be impossible to save him now. Raoul guided her away from the stairs, out further into the open air, and arm around her and sweet words in her ear. Not that she listened to them, her grief made it impossible to hear anything but the silent cries of the masked man who would have done anything for her happiness.

Almost all of Paris had gathered around the burning Opera Populaire. Already the firemen were trying to control what little of the flames they could get to. Everyone knew it was hopeless; the only possibility was letting it burn to the ground and hope everyone made it out safely. Many people hadn't been seen yet, and as Raoul looked around for some person or other, Christine was futility looking for Meg and her mother. She needed their soothing gaze, as out in the open she felt the stains of her soul were exposed for all to gaze upon. With them, she felt protected in this moment of chaos.

Unfortunately, she was not given enough time to look as it wasn't long before Raoul herded her further away from the crowd. Yet even from the outskirts of the throng, she could see the beauty and splendor of the opera house be swallowed up by the burning flames. They licked at the pillars, frolicked amongst the numerous paintings, jumped from chandelier to chandelier, running down the halls and through the rooms she had spent her childhood in until it became nothing more than a pile of ash and charred wood.

It felt like hours until the last of the fire was contained and extinguished. Everything had been destroyed, from the large statues broken and blackened beyond recognition to the small ballet slippers that had been resting in a pile near the girls' dormitory. Raoul, having believed that Christine had become sufficiently calmer, left to go find the managers and the police chief who had been a part of the plan which led to this tragic end.

Wandering like a ghost trapped in limbo, Christine made her way through the dispersed crowd and up the stairs and past the torched doors leading into the foyer. There were other people besides her, looking about for any items they could salvage as firemen warned against falling debris. These things she ignored, walking past broken stone and gold statues and shattered glass towards the auditorium.

It was here the damage had taken its toll. Everything was blackened, even the gold which had somehow remained on pieces of furniture. As Christine walked down one of the many aisles, she kept her eyes trained to the enormous stage she had stood upon most of her life. Her mind completely blank, she allowed her feet to guide her down the stiff carpet until she stopped right before the orchestra pit, directly in the middle of the stage.

Rafters and beams which had held up the ceiling lay in crushed heaps all around her, the places where the wood broken glaring sharply at her. Items from the wealth and nobility which had attended Don Juan Triumphant were scattered about, having been forgotten as the fire had started to consume everything around the patrons. And the magnificent chandelier, something she recalled staring at in amazement during the mindless hours of her youth, now loomed before her. The many crystals glittered, reflecting the horror and irreparable damage back at her over a thousand times over.

All that she had known, all she had learned, all the memories she had created and shared, all the dances, the songs, the whispered secrets, the laughter, the hopes, dreams, wishes, desires, love, hatred she ever had in her short life all occurred on that stage, in this opera house. It was all that she had known. And now it was all gone. Everything that she held dear in her heart was gone.

He was gone…

Feeling a hand rest heavily on her shoulder, Christine turned to see Raoul standing behind her. The only thing of her childhood which had survived. Altered drastically, but still in existence nonetheless.

Stepping forward, his arm moved to fully embrace her, holding her close as she clung onto his body. "It'll be fine," he whispered. "It's all over now, Christine."

Her hands were twisted into his shirt, trying to hold up her body as she could feel herself about to collapse. Sobs ripped out of her throat, echoing in the empty room as she allowed Raoul to hold her up. Tears soaked them both as she stood among the destruction of her only home. Her echoed cries returned to her, mocking her as she produced more, unable to stop now that it had begun. All she could do was cry; her mind was too far gone to do anything else.

It was all over. Everything was done, finished, destroyed, and nothing Christine could do would bring it back.


Hey all! Anyone miss me? Because I've certainly missed you. Anyway, you all should leave a review, complete with your thoughts on the chapter and whether you'd like to see this be continued. :)