A.N - Nothing you recognise belongs to me. This is based on ALW's musical. UM, thanks for reading! And um. This was an odd impulse I had before I went to bed last night and when I woke up - it came out like word vomit. I'm sorry if its a bit - um.
Just let me know how it is! AU, clearly.
In the end, it came down to an urge – an impulse that Christine could not throttle.
"Say you love me…"
"Raoul, please stop singing for a moment."
There was an eerie silence as Raoul's voice faded and the boat lost movement. Christine stared at the waters below, eyes consumed by thought. She could feel Raoul's gaze on her as she closed her eyes, faintly hearing his voice shiver within her. Why had I not done this sooner? It is so clear to me now…Christine recuperated and glanced up at Raoul whose eyes were narrowed suspiciously at her. She found her gaze softening – oh he must have known this would happen! Surely he must have known.
"Christine," Raoul murmured lightly as the boat slowly rocked against the gentle waves of the lake water, "Are you alright, my love?"
He did not know – had she not been obvious with the way she had sung those meaningless words as they exited? Had he missed the way her eyes never left the sight behind the boat as it motioned forwards? Christine found herself standing up and glancing at Raoul, eyes completely losing its affectionate touch. "I cannot do this, Raoul. Do you not see?" Her heart was thundering as she almost desperately reached out for him. He was frozen – consumed by how oddly she was suddenly behaving.
"See what, Christine?" He asked, glancing around – is she delirious? – as the rest of her words reached his attention. "What do you mean you cannot do this?"
"I cannot be rowed out of this boat with you, Raoul!"
Christine huffed as she felt the feeling of need grow within her. I must leave this boat before he departs or I shall be left alone forever – "Raoul, I cannot be your wife…be a Countess – please do not look at me so hopelessly," She sighed at the expression on his face. Must he make this so difficult?
Raoul was speechless. "Why ever not? Christine – do not – what are you doing?" He gasped in horror as he watched her step into the cold, grey lake water. "Christine!" He screeched, suddenly on his knees as he tried to reach for her arms, "Christine! Reach for my arm here-!"
The hazel eyed woman could only watch, sighing once more at his pitiful attempts. The water was cold, and her dress was most certainly going to be drenched – but this was the only way. "Raoul," She found herself murmuring as she slowly waded back. Realizing this Raoul cried out a helpless,
"Are you mad? Christine? Come now! Now!"
"See! This is why I cannot be your wife Raoul!"
"What?" The Vicomte choked out, as his aching arms lowered, "Christine…I do not understand…"
He never understood. Christine's heart was thumping loud as she continued to shift back. It makes sense now…I know what I need…what I want…"This cannot be Raoul…I understand now! I – do you not see that this is the happy ending in the stories we read as children? I am the princess. You are the prince…" Her words were light as Raoul looked on the brink of losing consciousness, "How does it end, Raoul?"
Barely tying words together, Raoul found himself paddling the boat back with his own hands to follow her. It is the lake water – she has grown senseless… "With a happy ending, Christine." He humoured her as he tried to reach out for her but failed.
"That is it! I do not want a happy ending, Raoul!"
"What?" Raoul questioned, eyes wide. Christine was confused! She must be – that was why she spoke such gibberish!
"Or, at least not in this way. I - I do not want an ending. Not yet. Or at least this! I see where my life will lead me…my life with you," Christine murmured as she attempted her best to look apologetic at Raoul's futile attempts to garner her back on the boat. He could not! For she knew what she wanted. "…I shall become a Countess….and we shall live in your manor…and I shall tend for the children while you travel the world in your family's bidding…"
"Is that not what you want?" Raoul feverishly snapped as he leaned back, heart crunching as Christine shook her head.
"Of course not," She breathed, hand padding her forehead as her face was lit up with a large smile – the smile of recognition. Of sense. "I want to sing, Raoul. To travel the world. To dance. To live. I… I had never wanted a privileged life…I had only ever wished – hungered for two things in my life, Raoul…"
Christine began to laugh. Raoul was entirely lost.
"Love and music." Christine revealed with a soft breath, "I had only ever wanted love and music."
"And these are things I cannot provide?" Raoul roared – splashing the water with his a slice of his hand.
Christine merely exhaled at his attempts. "You cannot, Raoul," Her eyes lowered, "Or at least - not in the way he does."
Silence. Raoul's eyes were frozen as they absorbed the conviction in Christine's. She is senile! His mind gleefully reprimanded. But the glee was not to last as anger rose within him. She was speaking nonsensical thoughts…It should wither in the morning – they just needed to leave this hellish cavern and when she received a dose of fresh air…she shall be fine! Yes. He once more reached out for her and groaned loudly as Christine moved even further back in response.
"He?" He echoed manically; eyes flashing in threat, "You mean that criminal? He is a killer – Christine! Have you forgotten?"
There was a brief fall in Christine's expression. Raoul growled, the urge to leave the watery depth overwhelming him,
"I will cherish you with more love and music than you can ever want, Christine. Remember our song? I love you…Christine…please stop this nonsense and return to the boat…" He pleaded, eyes once more gentling as they fell on her, "Say you love me –"
"Stop singing Raoul!" Christine scowled – stunning him silent. She rounded on him with sharp eyes, "You cannot sing the way he does – "
"You cannot judge love founded on song Christine!"
"Our voices, Raoul. They do not blend as well as mine and his do. When we sing – I am captivated –"
"You are hypnotised!" Raoul argued fiercely, shaking his head hopelessly, "Christine…you are not telling me that…you and that – that monster!"
Monster. Christine felt something twist inside of her as the memories of the ring flashed in her head. She had glanced at him, heart writhing as he took the object, singing his love for her so…truthfully. It had been the honesty in the end that took her. When the impulse to sing it back to him grew in her, she had fled – unsure of what her thoughts may have revealed to her. But ever since she turned away, all she had been filled with was regret! How could she have done such a thing to her poor Angel?
The man who had never loved. Loved anyone but her. "Raoul, he has been driven madly by love for me- "
"He does not love you!" Christine felt her heart thrash as tears began to run down Raoul's face – oh, Raoul. Poor beautiful Raoul. "Christine!" He continued, words struggling to come out as he suppressed loud sobs, "I love you…"
"And you shall find another to love!"
"What? Christine? You. It is you that I love."
"We are young, Raoul." Must she explain everything to him? "You will find another – one who would perform the roles of a Countess better than I can."
Her mind was set – her heart bought. There was nothing he could do now but – but cry. She had to sigh as she heard his soft, adoring sobs. Now she had made both of them cry for her. Bad Christine. If only she had accepted her feelings from the beginning! If she had just admitted it from the start and not become so entangled in the spur of the moments – Raoul would not be so upset.
"I love you Raoul," She murmured before interposing quickly in case false hope entered his eyes, "But it is not the love you regard me with. I love another and I cannot deny it no longer!"
"Please…Christine…stop this nightmare and return…" Raoul managed through inconsolable tears as he watched her shiver in the water.
"You should wish for me to be happy, Raoul." Christine responded back innocuously, "And I shall be happy. I love my angel, Raoul. I love him and I have destroyed his love for me…I must go and mend him…"
Raoul shook his head, unable to listen. Christine just found herself shaking her head, unsure if she should pity him or accept that he was finally admitting the truth. Her poor, broken angel – she had always feared him. Adored him. Even despised him. But beneath it, she had always loved him. And it was not his disfigured face that made Christine pity him. It was his loneliness. And the lack of life that lived within his eyes. Something only she could fix as his Christine. His Christine. She had always been his.
"He is so full of passion, Raoul. I do not know how I had resisted…that song in his opera…" Christine was almost breathless as she replayed the memory. It was only Raoul's sorrowful cries that disturbed her reverie,
"Do not do this out of pity, Christine." Raoul sobbed.
"I will not," Christine murmured as she smiled softly at him, "I shall do it out of love." Passing the man one more look, the woman turned and pulling her dress up from the water ever so slightly began to swiftly stride through to find what it was that she had lost in the Phantom's lair.
Her dress felt heavy and bloated as she squeezed through the side of the large, metal gate. Christine could hear the song of the guards as she struggled to be in motion. She was light-headed and her muscles ached – but nothing beat the urge of finding him! She must! But as she entered the dark, shadowy lair…it became clear to her that it was empty. 'Oh angel!' Her mind sighed as she began to look around, tears forming at the bottom of her eyes as she realized that she could not find him.
It took a moment for her eyes to register the cloak that concealed the chair at the corner of the room. She quickly ran towards it and pulled it, glancing at – the mask! The mask? But why should he leave his mask? Her heart ached deeply as she took both items in her hand and sat on the seat to rest. They would find her and what then? How would she explain that she was in love with the man they hunted? She could see her fate now – she would be taken and retrieved by Raoul. Christine knew he shall never believe that she returned her angel's feelings. For he knew love only as affection.
Not passion.
Christine whimpered a little and then began to cry. Her hand landed on the arm of the seat and something indescribable happened. For suddenly the bottom of the seat seemed to dissipate and Christine was falling. She stifled a scream as she clung on to her angel's mask. A sob escaped her as she felt solid ground beneath her. Her back ached. She had been – absorbed by the seat! Oh it must be her angel's tricks? Soaked and teary-eyed, Christine eyed the pitch blackness around. Her angel had to be here somewhere! For who else would build such a contraption as the chair? But how was she to be sure? How was she to know? In the end, Christine settled for the most simplest thing to lure him. With song.
Her lips trembled as she opened her mouth and began to sing,
"Angel of music, hide no longer…secret and strange…" Christine's lips were frozen as she heard movement, "…Angel?"
There was silence. Christine found the urge to cry falling on her once more before in the darkness, a gentle breath resonated followed by a,
"Christine?"
It was him! Oh her Angel! Relief flooded through her and she quickly stood up, back pressing against the damp wall behind her. She could hear breathing yet she could not see him anywhere. Her eyes had not adjusted to the darkness yet – or at least the tears that formed inside hindered her from seeing clearly. But he will find you…her mind murmured softly, he always finds you…And he did.
She felt a brush of a hand across her face – and then a flinch. Christine realized that he was moving away from her! "Angel, please!" She reached out, hands clinging onto the fabric of his shirt. Christine found the threatening tears of before rolling down her moist cheeks as she gripped onto him. He did not move beneath her touch. She was unable to keep silent and a small, soft sob escaped through her lips. The sound echoed through the tunnel.
"Oh…Christine…" She heard him say, "Why do you come here? Do you come here to gloat, child? Do you not feel compassion, Christine? Do you f-find joy –in watching me drenched in my m-m-misery?" Christine heard his voice falter and she found her tears rush even faster for now she knew he cried too. She did not release him and only whimpered as she felt his body quiver as he did his best to contain his harrowing sobs. "Are you and your Vicomte not satisfied? What p-pain must I – must I endure to content you both?"
"It is only I, Angel…" Christine managed, as she inhaled, "P-please…" Weep no more. But she found her words dying as her fingers weakly fell from him as they covered her face. Her cries were soft and meek but they were stained with feeling. She could not help it – she could not endure the pain she had caused them both. Her cries only subsided when she felt a finger brush a tear away – and another. Christine fearfully looked up at him and she found herself softly smiling as he glanced at her with the same look he had given her when she had handed him back the ring.
A look of loss.
Her fingers slowly traced the outline of his jaw and when it reached his disfigurement – her angel baulked and turned away. "Angel, I have returned for you!" Christine cried out at him as he seemed to disappear back into the shadows, "I have realized that I – I have always belonged to you…" Her voice thinned as she stepped forwards, face pale, "My teacher…my teacher…" The sound of her voice seemed so soothe him and he turned towards her again. In the darkness, she could only just see his face but she could feel the pain he exuded in the air. Her poor, broken angel. Created and destroyed by love.
She shall fix him.
"Weep no more, Angel." Christine whispered to him, as she realized quite blindly that in her free hand she still held his mask. Affectionately, she lifted it towards him and felt his fingers slowly retrieve it from her. "I did not understand what it was that gripped me to be with Raoul," Christine told him as he turned silently, "I – I was taken by this childhood fantasy of mine…Raoul and his little Lotte…but it was not the life for me. I longed for more…" Always longed for you…
When he faced her again, the mask was secured in his face and she knew he was perfect nonetheless. The love that throbbed within her was unlike any other – unlike anything she had experienced. She knew instantly now that this was the choice she was meant to take. The path she was meant to live. And already, the thrill was rushing through her. Papa had raised her to be an adventurer –not a Countess. To love – not to marry. A moment passed as his eyes seemed to absorb her. In a moment and without her notice, Christine found that he had covered her with the cloak. But she would not have felt cold anyway. "I'm sorry I took your wings, Angel," Christine shook her head as she extended a hand towards him and found him opening his mouth to respond.
"Do not taunt me, Christine…do not taunt your angel…"
Oh he shall cry again! Christine quickly shook her head in innocence, "I love you…Angel." She nodded, before feverishly taking his hand. He gasped but Christine held it tight as he attempted to tug it free. "Stop being so persistent and listen to me for once!" The woman scowled only to realize that she had prompted a small smile to form at the edge of her Angel's lips.
"My name is Erik, Christine."
"Erik then," Christine murmured as she arched a mocking brow knowing her heart was floating at the very revelation of his name. It was one of the many secrets she had wanted to unearth about her Angel – if he should reveal it then it must mean that he accepted her offer! Accepted her! "My irritation has a name!" She heard him chuckle again and she found herself going light-headed as she softly squeezed his hand in response, "A beautiful one."
There was another silence as they locked eyes and realization seemed to fall on her Angel's – Erik's- features. "C-Christine," He wept, shaking his head, "Oh…child." Christine stifled a small laugh as she embraced him. Clearly he had not expected it as she felt his body go rigid. Small steps, her mind reminded her as she quickly released him and just pressed a smile on her face. "I am not a child anymore," She rebuked him softly as he seemed to recover from the surprise of the embrace.
"I could not imagine a life without you, Christine."
"And now you never have to imagine such an atrocious picture."
"But I have wronged you! I – I am not meant for you…Christine…" Suddenly he seemed to stumble. Christine groaned out loud as once more she reached out for him, pulling the hand she gripped with force, "You are too precious…Christine – I shall only anger you. It may kill me but I must release you –"
"You already have." She reminded him with a sigh, "And now I have returned to you."
"Cruel!" Erik shouted, his loud voice bouncing on the walls of the dripping alley, "This life shall only be cruel – I shall return you to the surface…I –" He seemed to notice the change in Christine's eyes. The fact that she had shivered against his screech – there was disbelief there but fear.
His heart seemed to lose rhythm as he felt his tone lose its insulting touch, "Oh…Christine…I do not wish for you to fear me – I – I am sorry…please do not leave again…I do not mean what I say…" The anguish in his tone almost prompted new tears to form in Christine's eyes but she refrained knowing it would upset him. She simply shook her head,
"I do not fear you…and I will – I will never leave now."
She sensed him tremble and she smiled lovingly,
"I promise."
There was clearly a lot to go for Christine and her broken, fallen idol. But she was excited to begin. Begin together. For despite it all she found no dent in her desire for him! Despite the taste of what his temper could hold and all the things in the opera…her feelings only grew in the moment they were here below – below where it was only him and her. And he never had to be angry. He just had to be her angel – her Erik…how wonderful it seemed. How true and honest.
"Let us leave, Erik. Before dawn comes," Christine murmured to him soothingly as he managed to stand again. Her silly, little Erik. What must she do to prove her love to him? "Together, we will leave together…" She whimpered to him as he childishly nodded. The purity of his actions – it made her smile. It was a far cry from the tyrant from the lair…or the enigmatic angel that haunted her dreams and trained her voice. It was him, her Erik. The insecure, unloved man she had always adored.
"Christine."
"Yes, it is me," Christine giggled lightly, "It is me you want yes – not Raoul since you question my identity so often?"
There was a brief silence. She supposed that this must be the last time his name would be mentioned in his presence. But he should have nothing to fear for her heart only belonged to one. And he was there with her.
"So, you do not love the boy?"
They walked to the end of the tunnel together where the darkness seemed to thicken. Instead of fearing it, Christine found that cloaked with her angel's guidance, she was almost soothed by the bleakness. "Don't ask foolish questions," Christine muttered looking up at him and shaking her head for what seemed like the thousandth time! "No."
Christine was once more treated to the soft melodic chuckle of the man. "I love him as a as friend," His face seemed to turn to her at the very mention of 'love' in that context but she just sighed at him to tell him that there was certainly nothing he should concern herself with. "Do not ever be envious Erik," She added with a nod as she felt her back tingle with chills, "His voice has never matched yours!"
"I am certain it never would – Say you love –"
"Please, Erik," Christine quickly interposed, lifting her head up at him and letting her eyes gleam teasingly, "I despise that song." An air of comfort surrounded the two of them as they strolled in the obscurity of the blackness. The warmth of his hand calmed Christine as they approached the end of the tunnel.
"Erik,"
"Yes, Christine?"
"What would you have done if I had not returned?"
There was a wordless interlude. Christine glanced up as the masked man seemed to recoil into a pensive mood. She allowed him the time though for she thoroughly wanted to know the truth.
"I probably would have travelled, alone and heartbroken to a faraway land to where I shall never find solace."
"That sounds awful."
"It would have been." His eyes slowly absorbed hers, cold yet still so adoring. For what luck that Beauty would return to the Beast that he was? Stories. They were always just stories and yet look! Now he was a part of the illusion he had always dreamt of – leaving the suffocation of the Opera House to live a new life with the woman he had loved and worshipped for so long. "It would have made a dreadful sequel, to our story, Christine…" He murmured softly.
Christine nodded, "I agree."
As the end of the tunnel stood and Christine saw the dimly lit street open up across her, she found herself pausing breath. How odd this life would be! How odd yet passionate and wonderful. They will be together now and with time, they shall love as deeply as they should. It would take time, Christine knew and they would face horrible obstacles that would contest their devotion. But it was what everyone should aspire for. What she aspired for.
"Where would you like to go, Christine?" She heard him murmur as they stopped, hand-in-hand at the entrance to the world beyond the opera house. He said it in a manner as if she could choose anywhere in the world! Anywhere she wished and dreamt of! Christine could feel the pleasure and adoration she felt for him thud through her as she warmly shook her head.
"Anywhere."
"But my love, you must have a specific place you wish to go to."
"Surprise me, Erik." She nodded, glancing up at him, "You may pick…You are the Phantom of the Opera…"
A small, teasing tsk tsk loomed from the man beside her.
"My…my, Christine…we must resume training instantly – your voice…it is – perhaps you should entrance me with one more note to make sure?"
The light in Christine's eyes had nearly burnt out. Yet she had lived her life as wholly and as happily as she had ever wanted to. She had seen all the cities like they were portrayed in the books Meg and her had fought over as children. Her voice had enthralled theatres of people – and she had sung music that brought tears to people's eyes. She had travelled and lived as much as she could with the time she had been endowed.
And as she lay, praying silently, she knew she had found it all with the man she had always been destined to be with. The wild, angry man that she – over time – had soothed and learnt to fix. She had brought as much joy to him as he had brought delight to her. He had cherished and gifted her with such unbelievable amounts of love – love she only wished the rest of the world would experience when they had found their fated half. She had been collided with obstacles that came in the deaths of their two, poorly children but had mothered a lovely son that she knew would tend to his father when his time came.
Christine softly smiled as she glanced at Erik who slept by her bedside, his imperfect – yet painfully beautiful face illuminated by the candlelight. He would be awake in the morning and she knew she would not be. It's too early, he had sobbed and she knew he had eventually cried himself to sleep. But here he was. Always so loyal. Always there. Oh his anguish when he had found out that the illness would eventually take her away. She had cried too of course but she knew – she knew they had made the best of what they had.
He had completed her life as she had completed his.
Her weak hand slowly outstretched and began to slowly stroke the top of his head as he slept silently. The enigmatic man who haunted the Opera! The madman that took her beloved away! Here. And after all this time, after all the heartache – still kept his promise of guarding her. She knew that what was coming would be the first time they had been apart in the years they had lived as one. But it had to come.
I love you, her mind softly whispered in song – just as he had all those years ago – as she found herself closing her eyes. Christine had finally done it. She had attained her happy ending. Just as her Papa would tell her when she was younger. This was it – what she had always wanted. Love and music. And she had lived through so much of it! So much love and music. And him.
For Christine Daaé had never wished for a castle – nor a prince as a young girl. She had only ever wished for one thing in her life and one thing only.
An angel.