Summary: Alternate ending to the 2004 movie. After coming to the realization that it is Erik who truly holds her heart, she returns to him and vows to show him that he can know happiness instead of heartbreak. One-Shot.

Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom, but I definitely would not mind owning Gerry Butler, or Hugh Panaro.

A/N: I wrote this a while ago, but I was a bit nervous about posting it until now. Though I don't think anything really changed though, still nervous. So, please, review of your own volition. Kisses,

Christine, I love you…

His broken plea was barely above a whisper. I gingerly approached him, my heart breaking at the faint show of hope that graced his unfortunate face. I closed my eyes for a short moment as I pried the ring from my finger. I reached for his trembling hand and placed the small band into the palm of my fallen angel. He looked up at me as I covered his fingers with my own; he understood that I was not staying. I brought his hand to my lips and planted one last kiss onto his knuckles before I began to walk away. His grip on my hand did not loosen, forcing me to look at him one more time. I could do nothing but gently pat his hand before returning to Raoul.

"Come Christine," Raoul said, holding out his hand to help me into the boat. My eyes absentmindedly wandered back up to the Louis-Philippe room where I left my angel. Raoul's eyes followed my own, "Christine!" he spoke louder, attempting to garner my attention.

"I can't," I whispered, more to myself than to Raoul. I could feel him grip my shoulders.

"We have to go now, Christine!" Raoul exclaimed, beginning to pull my frail, tense body into the gondola.

"No, Raoul! I can't!" I cried, trying to get him to release his hold on me.

"Christine- he is a monster, you cannot stay here, you must understand..."

"No, Raoul. I know this man; he is my angel of music. He took care of me for seven years after my father died; he was always there for me when I needed someone. I can't leave him now, not now when he needs me the most!" I tried to get Raoul to understand why I had to stay for the Phantom, but he did not seem persuaded.

"Lotte, I just want you to be safe. You are not safe here!"

"I am safe here! He would never hurt me, I know."

"That is not what you said three months ago, Christine." He calmly added.

I sighed, closing my eyes. "I was foolish. I did not understand then, I do now. It is so much clearer now."

"Christine,"

"Please, Raoul. Please let me go to him." I looked up into his eyes, pleading with my childhood friend. "I love him."

I heard Raoul's breathing falter and he suddenly looked as if he was in pain. "Christine,"

"Please,"

"What of our engagement, Christine?" I could tell now he was trying anything to get me to leave willingly with him.

I shook my head, holding back a sob. "I'm sorry, Raoul."

We both jumped as we heard the mob getting closer.

"Please Raoul, you have to trust me. I will be safe, I know I will."

"Lotte-"

"I'm not a little girl anymore! I am not Little Lotte!" I cried out, "I can take care of myself, Raoul! I need to go to him! If I don't I will never forgive myself! Lord knows I care for you, Raoul, but I love him!"

Raoul shuddered, obviously surprised that meek, little Christine rose her voice for the first time in her seventeen years of existing. But perhaps what surprised him the most were my words- that I loved the Phantom and not him, the wealthy viscount. No, I loved Raoul, but I was in love with my angel. I couldn't live without my Angel, I can only remember how internally unhappy I was during those three months away from him. I needed to stay, and Raoul was not listening.

"Raoul, please, I love him, I need to stay."

"He has you under some kind of spell, Christine, you must see!"

"No, he doesn't! You saw him release us! You saw it just as well as I did! You saw that I kissed him! Sure, the first one might have been a plea to get him to release you, but the second one- the second one Raoul- that was a lover's kiss!"

"No, Christine," He breathed.

"Raoul, please, just leave." I held his head in my hands and forced him to look into my eyes, to see that this was what I wanted and needed. "You see how broken he was, he would never hurt me, I know."

He gripped my hands in his own and lowered them. "You know where to find me?" He finally asked, pressing kisses to my knuckles.

"Yes."

"Then go, but promise me, if anything happens, you will not hesitate to contact me…"

"I promise, thank you Raoul!" I went up on my toes to peck him one last time on the cheek before darting away to rescue my angel.

I quietly entered the room, immediately noticing he had not moved from where I left him. His eyes were closed, and I could see the tears that resided on his cheeks. He must not have heard me, for he did not look up or even shift as I quietly approached him. I slowly dropped to my knees before him, desperately grasping his hands within my own. He jumped at the unexpected contact and tried to recoil from my touch, but I held onto him tightly. "Christine," he began in the same broken whisper, "you have to leave."

"Yes, and you must come with me," I told him, reaching up with my left hand to caress the ravished side of his face. I could feel him leaning into my touch, and I could swear I felt his lips brush my palm for one short blissful moment.

"No, you have to go with the vicomte," he whispered as I watched another crystalline tear fall from his emerald eye.

"What is your name?"

He looked up at me in awe, his mouth opening and closing as if he did not know what to say. If I didn't know better I would have thought it was the first time he had been asked that such a simple question. Perhaps it was, but I needed to know his answer. I've known this man for so long, he had been the closest friend and confidante I've had since my father, and I didn't even know such a simple thing as his name.

"My name," my angel began, looking around the lair as if the answer was written somewhere in this room. I began to believe he was avoiding me.

"Yes?" My other hand cupped his perfect cheek, forcing him to look directly into my eyes.

"My name is Erik," he whispered.

"Erik," I tried the name on my lips, it did seem to fit him. "Erik, we have to leave. Do you know a way in which we can escape?"

I watched Erik give the slightest of nods and I helped him rise to his feet. I didn't let go of his hand as he led me into a dark passage behind one of the many mirrors in his home. For a few moments we were both quiet, the only sound occupying the tunnels was our footsteps. I heard voices from where we came from, I supposed that the mob had reached Erik's home by now. Moments later a large, deep crashing noise sounded from behind us and my breath caught in my throat. I could feel Erik stiffen.

The organ…they're destroying it…

Erik dropped to his knees where he was, doubling over as if he was in physical pain. I sat down beside him, attempting to offer him any amount of comfort I could. I wrapped my arms around him hesitantly; I was not sure how he would respond, but I did notice how he seemed to tense at the contact. "Erik," I whispered.

He pulled away from me gently to look into my eyes. Unshed tears lined his own and he shook his head. "You can still leave, Christine," he spoke in a more composed tone, but his actions betrayed his words.

"Erik, I'm not leaving you..."

"Christine…"

"No!" I yelped, pushing him with a strength I had not known I possessed against the sides of the dank tunnel. I pressed my hands against his heaving chest and closed the space between our bodies. "No," I told him again, much softer this time. "I'm involved now, I can't leave you. I don't want to."

He did not wrap his arms around me as I pressed my cheek into his chest. I must admit that I was a bit bewildered as to why he would not, or could not hold me. Was this not the same man who had just declared his love for me mere minutes before? Did he change his mind so quickly?

"Unless you wish for me to leave, Erik." I felt him stiffen once more and he looked down at me, hesitantly reaching out his hand to tuck a stray chocolate curl behind my ear.

"No, I do not wish that." He said, I suppose it was more to himself than to me.

I smiled up at him brightly, wanting nothing more than to soothe all his pain that was so plainly evident in his eyes. "I chose you, Erik. I do not want to be with anyone but you."

"The Vicomte, Christine," he began, his voice breaking. "He can offer you much more than I can. He can give you all the wealth in the world, a beautiful home, a beautiful child…" I pressed my index finger over his lips to silence him.

"Do not be silly. I do not want anything the vicomte can give me. It is not what I seek. What I seek," I paused, unsure of how to word what he needed to hear, and what I needed to say. I needed to tell him that I loved him in return, but somehow I could not find the words.

I looked up to see that faint sliver of hope again. My gosh, what has this poor man been through to leave him so utterly helpless in this world of vanity and wealth? What have we done to scar him so? There was so much I wanted to learn about him, that I needed to learn about him to heal the wounds he had been so cruelly dealt. He was so insecure, so disbelieving of all I had been trying to say to him. Would he truly believe that I loved him? That God has not forsaken him? One day perhaps, but would he believe me right now, when we both needed to be set free the most? This man, this fallen angel of mine, he desperately needed acceptance. He needed to be loved, and I had to do it! I must!

I love you, Erik. My God, I love you! My only wish is that I had some way of telling you just how much!

"Is someone to make me whole again. If I leave with Raoul, than that something will always be missing, I know it. You, Erik, my Angel of Music, you can complete me as no other possibly could. And I know I do not deserve you, God knows I don't! I am so sorry for abandoning you, Erik, more sorry than you will ever understand! But I can try, Erik, I can try to make it up to you. I can try to make it up to you if you can find it in your heart to believe me and give me a chance to show you," I paused for a short, excruciating moment as we both bore hard into each other's eyes, "to show you that I love you, Erik!"

I watched as Erik closed his eyes and tilted his head back in what I interpreted as relief. He then took my hand in his, playing idly with my fingers. "My face?" He whispered, desperately needing to know this one last crucial detail in my own declaration of love to him.

Your face, yes it is shocking, and yes I was frightened before, but I won't run because of it! Not now!

I cupped his face in my hands, my thumbs prepared to wipe away every tear that threatened to fall. "Is of little consequence to me. This," I gingerly traced over the tragic, scarred tissue that caused this man a lifetime of pain, "is not going to scare me away." I touched my lips to his scars to prove it. I heard him moan and I looked back up into those emerald pools.

"Does it hurt you?" I asked, my brow furrowing. It was bad enough that this face was the reason he was so lonely and emotionally scarred, but did it cause him physical pain as well?

Erik brought my hand to rest over his heart, placing it gently so I could feel his steady heartbeat. "It hurts me here," he said, looking away, "though I'm sure you already know of that." He bowed his head then, his hair obstructing his face from my view.

I sighed and leaned into his shaking frame. I pressed my own cheek against his moist one, and I must admit I was delighted when he turned his face so it was closer to mine. My hands were still planted on his chest. "Let me show you. We can have a life, Erik, you and I. I can help you forget all the hurt and the pain from your past, we can be happy!"

He wants to believe my words, I know he does. I can see it, I can see it clear as day in his pleading eyes, but it will take much more than words for him truly to believe that someone can love him unconditionally. Perhaps if I can show to him another lifetime, a lifetime abundant with endless happiness, laughter, family, and love then maybe all the horrors and the pain that clouded his dark past could be but distant memories. I know it will not be easy, no, it will not be easy with Erik. But I promise you, Erik, my dearest Erik, I will not give up on you. I promise.