nhadct

AN: This reminds me oddly of another songfic I wrote about loving someone even after they've left you. But whatever . . . Um, this has Meg/Erik romance in it as well as Erik/Christine and Christine/Raoul. So in case you're against one of those (probably not E/C) for whatever reasons (insane jealousy, possibility of going into a mad rage) . . . Well, I was going to say don't read it, but actually do, because, incredibly, this isn't the worst thing I've ever written. I'm not sure if it's one of the best, but it may be. (I kinda wrote this a while ago and am just getting it up on FF.N, so some of you might have read it on my site.) OK, I have a tendency to ramble on way too long, so I'll stop. *forces her hands AFK*

Never Had a Dream Come True

Everybody's got something
They had to leave behind

Erik rolled over in bed and smiled softly at the sleeping Meg. She looked like a little princess, tucked in underneath the black silk sheets; her pale complexion made her seem to glow among their darkness, and that of the quiet night. Meg sighed contentedly in her sleep, her hands drifting over to Erik's. He clasped them gently and glanced down at the interlocked fingers, one set so big and the other so small. Meg wore no jewelry on her fingers, but Erik did--one plain gold band, so simple and yet meaningful. It was a ring cursed with memories, but even without it, he knew he'd never be able to forget her.

One regret from yesterday
That just seems to grow with time

Christine. How often had the name crossed his lips--"Sing for me, Christine!" "What were you doing up there with him, Christine?!" "Christine, you don't understand. You never will!" "And so, Christine, now you choose. His death--or an eternity with me?" And finally, "Christine, I love you . . ." Now as he looked at the ring that had once been hers, all those moments with her--the music lessons, as she hit every note perfectly and he sat suffering, the agony of holding back his impulses and desires nearly killing him; the performances, as he sat in his box and watched both her and the hateful Vicomte like a hawk; even the final battle, like a scene in a play, as Christine had defied him, cursed him, but ultimately seen through the mask, right into his soul, and kissed him. Christine had kissed him.

There's no use looking back or wondering
How it could be now or might have been

He had been paralyzed with shock through it, but at the same time every nerve in his body had been alive, and tingling with awareness and excitement at her close proximity. It had been a horrible strain to resist the urge to take advantage of it and touch her more intimately, but it was surely worth it to feel her pressed against him and yet not afraid; in fact, seeming almost to enjoy his touch. Of course he had kissed her back, with more passion than he'd intended, but nothing more. He was proud of himself--if there was one moral he retained, it was not to touch a woman in love against her will, and he had never broken that promise to himself. But he couldn't help wondering . . . What might have happened if she'd refused to go with Raoul? She might--still be with Erik . . .

All this I know
But still I can't find ways to let you go

He shouldn't waste time thinking about that. What was done, was done, and there was no changing the past. Why, he was happy with Meg! He loved her so much it actually hurt when there were seconds they had to spend apart. However . . . Christine had been his first love, and nothing else could ever be quite the same.

I never had a dream come true
'Til the day that I found you

Erik's life had been hell--lurking in the shadows, hiding from daylight--until she had come along. Suddenly, everything was beautiful, and the pain he'd endured from seeing Christine and Raoul together was repayed in more than full by her kiss, and the feeling of being touched and loved for the first time. His dream of being with her had finally come true--the first time in his life that had ever happened.

Even though I pretend that I've moved on
You'll always be my baby

Sure, he was in love with Meg, but he still thought about Christine. His eyes filled with tears every time he pictured her, and she would always be his angel of music. The Vicomte might have taken her physically away from him, but mentally, she was as near to Erik as the day they'd first met. Christine would remain, until the end of time, his true love, and the woman who had brought life and joy into his dark world of music. "Christine, I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you. I love you!"

I never found the words to say
You're the one I think about each day

Until that first and final kiss, he had never told her. Before that, he'd never quite been able to think of something that would fully express his love, his lust, his undying devotion for her. Now, his dreams were filled with visions of her, and it was hard not to picture her standing before him all the time. It seemed untrue to Meg to fantasize about Christine while he was sleeping, but he could not help it, and when they were making love, more than once he'd had the urge to cry out Christine's name. It wasn't because he loved Meg any less; she was the world to him. But it was like he and Christine were two halves of the same person. Nothing could separate them, no matter how much that thing was loved.

And I know, no matter where life takes me to
A part of me will always be with you

Yes, they were locked together somehow, even if they never saw each other again. Wherever he went, it seemed as if Christine would follow him in his mind, like a little shadow. Sometimes he wished he could stop that, wished he could live his own life with Meg, but he couldn't. And of course, sometimes it was wonderful to him, that he could never forget his first love because she was always with him. Gently letting go of Meg's hands and turning over in bed, Erik wondered if Christine felt the same way about him, now that she was with Raoul. He decided to stop thinking about it for now, and try to have a good sleep.

Somewhere in my memory
I've lost all sense of time

Erik tried to concentrate on what he was doing--in the labyrinth of passages under the Opera House, one slip could cost a man his life, even someone with Erik's catlike grace. He was trying to climb to the highest spot that wasn't actually part of the main building--he knew enough to stay on his own territory when he was going to listen in on a conversation between the managers about the next opera that would be put on. Suddenly, it seemed like Christine was right there, so close he could almost reach out and touch her. He slipped and nearly lost his footing, but managed to regain balance without falling. But it shook him--why was her image saturating his life so much? How long had it been since--why, it seemed like just yesterday when she had left. Or was she still with him--Christine, Christine! He had no idea of time now; he was simply floating around in a dream of his angel.

And tomorrow can never be
'Cause yesterday is all that fills my mind

Erik felt like breaking down and sobbing; would he ever truly be able to let go of her and love Meg? Christine's huge, unhappy, haunted eyes filled his vision, reprimanding him, bringing him to tears; her soft, gentle, yet powerful voice flowed continuously into his ears, singing of fairy-tale times and moments past; her shapely, enticing body seemed to press against him in sleep, tempting him to madness; yet all he wanted was to be with Meg forever. In frustration, Erik hit the nearest hard object. God, Christine, I love you!

There's no use looking back or wondering
How it should be now or might have been

He loved her, but he could never really be with her again. Somehow he knew this was as it should be--he needed the memory of Christine to carry him on to new love, but he wasn't meant to always be with her. Whatever higher power decided these things must also realize that Christine was special to him like no one else would ever be. He couldn't imagine ever breaking up with Meg, but if something did come between them, he would find someone else to love. It might happen to him ten thousand more times, but no matter how many lovers he did find, he knew Christine would be the only one he continued to think about until his death.

All this I know
But still I can't find ways to let you go

Why was her departure so hard for him to accept? His experience with Meg had proved to him that he could love others, and they could feel the same for him. Christine loved the Vicomte, who loved her back and could give her the life of light and happiness she deserved. Only someone much stronger and more able to sacrifice light for herself to make Erik happy should have to inhabit his symphony of midnight--someone like his little Meg. Things had worked out perfectly, except . . .

I never had a dream come true
'Til the day that I found you

Perfectly, except for the apparitions of Christine he had to suffer through without going completely insane. Thoughts chased each other around in his head without ever coming to rest--She was the first woman I ever loved. So? That doesn't matter! I have to move on! But I have moved on, and I love Meg, but it doesn't seem to make a difference; Christine is driving me insane. Oh, I should just give up; half of me with always be hers, until the end of time. I can't stop it. She was the first . . .

Even though I pretend that I've moved on
You'll always be my baby

An idea passed through his mind, one that horrified him once he realized he'd actually thought it. He could tell Meg he loved her more than anything, and he was so sorry, but it just wasn't working. He could pay a visit to Christine's new house and try to win back her heart. Then they could be together forever, he and his angel.

I never found the words to say
You're the one I think about each day

Gasping in shock, Erik berated himself. How can I even think that?! It wasn't meant to be like that! Now he knew what his problem was. With Meg, he was happier than he'd ever been in his life, and if he could see Christine just once more, he could let her go. But how could he see her? Well, that didn't matter; he simply needed to know that he could say things to her that would make him feel so much better, so much more unburdened.

And I know, no matter where life takes me to
A part of me will always be with you

Breathing a little shakily, Erik continued to navigate the maze of passages. Before long, he'd reached a spot where it would be easy for him to eavesdrop on the managers. Forget about Christine for now; she isn't what I came here to think of. Erik shoved all doubting thoughts out of his head and concentrated on the low voices above him.

You'll always be the dream that fills my head
Yes you will, say you will

Going to an opera made Erik feel slightly better than he had been. He'd eventually decided it was impossible to ever see Christine again and persuaded himself to forget about it, that it had been a stupid idea from the beginning. He could just force himself not to think about her. Right, like that's going to happen--Erik made himself stop, and looked out over the audience. Of course he was sitting in Box Five, a seat filled with memories of her--No! He had to stop!

You know you will, oh baby
You'll always be the one I know I'll never forget

The performance hadn't started yet. Erik glanced down at the rest of the audience again. The Opera had a new patron now, a wealthy old lady. I don't think I have to worry about any problems coming from her . . . There was nothing else interesting around the room. Erik sighed and looked again at the stage--then something caused him to do a double take. Oh, my God!

It's no use looking back or wondering
Because love is a strange and funny thing

Christine was there, in the theater! God, she looks as beautiful as ever. Smiling at Raoul, who was seated next to where she stood, Christine sat down, smoothing out her silk gown. The Vicomte said something that made his wife smile. She laughed and whispered something in his ear behind a delicate hand. Erik's heart ached, and he found his hands clenching into fists. Oh, no, I don't want another chandelier scene.

No matter how I try and try
I just can't say goodbye

This was his chance! He could finally say goodbye to her and not have her haunt his life anymore. Erik stood up abruptly, but the opera had started. Sighing, he sat back down, but he could hardly be still. His fingers nervously drummed the sides of the seat, his feet tapped the floor (to the rhythm of a song he had once written for Christine), and he bit his lip so hard it drew blood. For once, he wasn't enjoying an opera; in fact, he could barely pay attention to this one.

I never had a dream come true
'Til the day that I found you

Finally, it was the end of the first act; there was a short intermission. Erik watched Christine stand up to go outside for a bit and silently followed her. She stood on the sidewalk, looking into the distance, drawing her black cloak around her. Erik cleared his throat. "Christine?"

Even though I pretend that I've moved on
You'll always be my baby

Startled, she whirled around, then gasped. "Erik!" They looked at each other for a long while, then she moved closer to him. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again!" Erik sighed wistfully. "Believe me, Madame, I had the same idea . . . But it's so nice meeting you here. How is life at home?" He couldn't believe it, but he seemed able to talk to Christine normally, without experiencing any of the longings he hated. She smiled--an expression which had always made him ache inside--but strangely, now he felt nothing except friendly affection. "It's wonderful; Raoul treats me so well . . ." Erik winced, expecting the normal pang of unrequited love to come, but it didn't. Astonished, he listened to her chatter on, too amazed to speak himself.

I never found the words to say
You're the one I think about each day

It had started sprinkling. Christine stopped in the middle of telling Erik all about her two-month-old baby. He nodded, understanding. "You should go in, we wouldn't want that lovely dress of yours to get wet." Christine smiled and rushed inside, Erik watching her until the door banged shut. He stood there alone, rain pouring down on him. Then, forgetting all about the next act of the opera, he turned on his heels and ran, dashing into a secret entrance that led to the black lake under the building. He summoned the boat and wished fervently for it to come quickly.

And I know, no matter where life takes me to
A part of me will always be

Erik rushed in the door to his kitchen, soaking wet. Meg was making dinner, and he ran over to her, grabbed her around the waist, and kissed her fully and romantically. After a short while, they pulled apart, Meg giggling and blushing. "To what do I owe this sudden display of affection?" Erik shrugged and shook his head. "For the first time in my life, I feel like I have exactly what I want." He knew that, of course, that other half of him would always remain with Christine. But for once, he was able not to think about it. It stayed inside of him, a warm feeling he could bring out whenever he wanted. "My darling Meg, this smells delicious." She smiled, and Erik felt something he'd never experienced before; he was where he belonged.

A part of me will always be
With you