Disclaimer: If I owned The Phantom of the Opera, I don't think I'd be wasting my time writing Phanphiction.

Rating: T for some space

Pairing: E/C

Note: This is an alternate look at Phantom of the Opera due to Phantom by Susan Kay, along with a bit from the musical/movie and original book. And, as the authoress, Erik isn't dead (obviously). I know all you phangirls won't mind. Christine isn't going to die anytime soon..probably.

Summary: After she gives birth to Charles, Christine looks back on the path might have taken, and decides to go back to Erik. Yet, she realizes to late, that things can never be the same, as she finds her angel truly to be an Angel of Death.

Chapter One: Memory

Raoul doesn't know. No human being knows, or ever shall. I keep both hidden in a place Raoul shall never find. I knew I shouldn't have kept it. It should have been left behind with him when I fled after that single, wretched, yet wonderful day with him. I should not keep it, as it has become an addiction. I read it nearly daily, waking up long before even the maids do, reading the whole thing through, then going back to sleep. I could have gotten rid of it when Charles was born. Charles, dear Charles, was enough of a reminder. But I kept it. I kept all four memories of my Angel. Two in a tiny box which I hid. The other two roamed freely in my home.

And here I was, waking up before the sun. Holding my candle close to my chest, I set it down on the wooden table in the middle of my living room. Getting to my knees next to my lavish couch, I laid down on my stomach, having a clear view of under it. Searching in the dim candlelight, my heart began to race as it took me an extra second to find the porcelain container. As I was close to being reduced to frantic tears, I reached under, feeling in the darkness until I drummed my finger upon it. Sighing a bit too audibly in relief, I pulled it out with a bit of effort and took the lid of gently.

Smiling down on the papers and the golden band jammed messily in the container as usual, I first picked up the tiny ring. A sudden fleeting urge to kiss the gold overtook me, and I listened to my instincts. It still smelt like him. I knew this was wrong, worshiping a man who was dead ..especially since I was already Raoul's wife.

Carefully removing Raoul's heavy, over-the-top wedding ring, I replaced it with Erik's, viewing it sadly. Drumming my finger down the metal, I let out a light sob. I had killed this man. This man who had loved me so much. It was my fault he was dead. I was to blame that this genius and monster was gone from this earth.

I remember clearly the promise I had made with this ring. To come back when Erik was dead and bury him in a place no one would find him with this. And I couldn't fulfill his one final wish. I remember the conversation Raoul and I had the day I saw the horrible ad labeling 'Erik is dead'.

"Raoul?" I had said, choked with silent tears.

"What's wrong Christine?"

All I had been able to do was shove him the papers and ask him in between sobs. "Let..me go...bury...him.." And his answer..after so many days of arguing, had been no.

Taking my mind off the ring for a moment, I glared down at papers which lay neatly stacked in the bottom of the box. Lifting them out tearfully, I read the first words carefully; "This is not a diary," I had read my childish writings so many times, I could recite each and every page by memory. But for the past year or so, it had been an addiction, just to feel the paper under my fingertips.

"Mama?"

Jumping at the voice, I let out somewhat of a squeak and looked behind me. Charles stood there, looking at me with wide eyes, Ayesha at his side, her eyes seeming to mock me in the darkness.

"Charles! What are you doing up at this time of night?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice at a stern whisper. Realizing I still held the papers in my hand, I tried to secretly hide them behind my back so little Charles couldn't see.

"I couldn't sleep. I wanted to ask you for some tea to help me. On my way to your bedroom I saw a light coming from in here and I heard you. What are you reading?" He explained, looking at me curiously and taking a step closer. Not a thing passed him. Just like his father. Even at such a young age, only 5 years old, I could see Erik slowly coming out in him.

"Nothing Charles, just..just something from when I was a child," I quickly lied, making sure he couldn't see that I wasn't wearing Raoul's ring.

Charles nodded, but I could see disbelief in his eyes. He said nothing, his hand wandering down to pet Ayesha. Walking gracefully over to me, that wretched cat never leaving his side, he plopped himself down beside me. "Can I see?" He asked innocently.

I would have said yes if this had been last week, but I knew now that he could very clearly read, as I had watched him looking at the Bible. I had asked him to tell me what it said, only to be shocked when he could read it to me, word by word. Shaking my head no, I stood suddenly, papers still in my hand. "Charles, I'm going to bed. You should as well."

He nodded absent-mindedly and stood there, fixated on something on the floor. I decided not to say anything, and walked to my bedroom quickly, not bothering to blow out my candle, and silently, I crawled back into my large bed with my husband, placing the papers under the bed carefully.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

As I awoke the next morning, I was groggy and irritable. My sleep had been anything but peaceful, dreams filled with memories of him, more precisely the ordeal with the spiders. Raoul stood at the end of the bed, adjusting his wig carefully. As he saw me awaken in our mirror, he immediately stopped, rushing to my side of the bed.

"Good morning, cherie," He said gently, kissing my lips. I tried my hardest not to back away. "You slept late," Raoul smiled at me, and returned to the mirror.

"So, is Charles making up stories again, Christine?" Raoul asked, slightly distracted.

My heart nearly dropped. I had forgotten to tell Charles not to tell Raoul. I couldn't say anything. I opened my mouth in an attempt, but I couldn't get the words to come out.

Raoul stopped, watching me carefully through the mirror. "Christine?" He asked.

"He..he must be," I said, trying to catch my breath.

Breakfast was set out by the time I was dressed. I headed downstairs, Ayesha rushing beside me, obviously knowing it was time for her to eat as well. As I entered the dining room, I looked at Charles, who sat at the stone table, his arms folded carefully in his lap as he watched me with his deep blue eyes. I couldn't resist a shudder as I felt them upon me.

"Good...good morning Charles," I said quietly, trying to regain my posture as I sat down across the table from him.

He smiled back at me and nodded gently, turning to Raoul, whom had sat down at the table beside me. "Papa?" He said gently, not waiting for a response as Ayesha jumped onto his lap. "Did you tell Mama that I told you that she was reading last night?"

"Yes, Charles, I did. But it is not proper to make up lies, Charles. Your mother has confirmed that she did not go into the living room last evening,"

Charles looked down at his plate in front of him and shut his eyes. "...But...Papa...I saw her! I wasn't dreaming...she was reading...and when she left, when I was going back to bed, I stepped on her ring!" He claimed passionately as I realized that I had forgotten my wedding ring on the floor and still had Erik's on. Quickly, I took my left hand off the table, placing it in my lap.

"I know that's not true, Charles," Raoul said, somewhat angrily. He looked over at me and I tried my hardest not to look back at him, as I knew that I could not hide a lie when he gazed into my eyes.

Charles let out a small sigh, and looked up at Raoul again. "Then..then...how come I have this?" He murmured, placing my wedding ring on the table. I stood up, suddenly feeling dizzy as Raoul glared up at me. Holding on the back of my chair for support, I felt my legs jolt into a sprint, making their way to my bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind me.

"Christine!" Raoul cried as I heard his feet pounding down the hallway. The doorknob began to frantically shudder as he tried to open it from the other side. I couldn't do anything but step back.

"Christine!" Raoul pleaded once more. "Please, open the door, I want to talk to you,"

I said nothing, shutting my eyes and placing my face in my palms, tears dripping out of my hands. I should have known this would happen...yet I chose to take the risk every time anyway.

I watched as the doorknob stopped rattling and I suddenly remembered that Raoul had a master key to every room in the house. As I listened to the lock click quietly, the door opened and I raised my tear stained face to Raoul who shut and locked the door behind him.

"Christine," He sighed gently, taking a step towards me. I tried to glance away from him, but he put his hand on my chin and lightly guided my face to look towards him. "Christine," He repeated, a slight sense of anger in his tone. "Why?" He demanded.

"Raoul," I pleaded softly. "I'm sorry...but you can't just expect me to forget him, can you? You know I love you,Raoul," I added, trying to make my lie sound somewhat realistic.

"Christine," He responded quietly, stroking my curls of light brown hair. A long period of silence passed and I began to shift my weight, slightly uncomfortable.

"Christine, it's time for you to give up," Raoul finally snapped, breaking the silence with a snarl. "I'm tired of hearing about your 'angel'. I'm tired of not hearing you sing because it reminds you of him. For God's sake, Christine, you married me!" As he finished, finally ending in a loud scream, I broke down again, tears staining my face.

"I'm sorry Raoul! Why don't you understand?"

Raoul suddenly looked furious, more so than I had ever seen him. "Christine, I understand," He muttered in a frustrated whisper. "I understand perfectly well, Christine. You don't seem to understand though that Erik is dead,"

His words quickly silenced my sobs. I looked at him through bloodshot eyes and wiped my tears away. Looking down at my golden band that rested on my finger, I took in off with a bit of difficulty. Grudgingly, I dropped it upon the wood floor. With the hushed clunk, my stomach sank.

I loved Erik. I knew this now. Not Raoul. Erik. I was going to find him. Even if he was dead, I couldn't stand to be with Raoul anymore. I had to escape. In my mind, a plan began to take form.