Author's Note: Philippe is Raoul's older brother who was killed off in the book but not mentioned in the movie. In my story, he is also dead but due to an accident (will explain later) and not from the Phantom's doing. Just to clear things up.

Chapter 1: Lost and Found

She was walking down a dark, winding hallway and the only other sounds were the echoing of her own light footsteps. There was intensity in the atmosphere. A feeling of something lurking and of something lost.

"Raoul! Raoul, where are you!" Christine called, her voice sounding strangely weak and small in the surroundings. I'm trapped here…

All around her rose the tall, obscure walls of the passageway as she continued to wander deeper and deeper into the strange, seemingly endless labyrinth. Until just up ahead she fancied she could perceive a small flickering light.

"Raoul! Is that you? Raoul!" she tried calling once more and rushed at the yellowish glow. Strange that despite it being so dark, I do not stumble. The sound of her heavy breathing and rapid heartbeat kept time to the pitter-pattering of her feet as she ran.

She did not anticipate the dark, masked figure that awaited her at the end of her journey. It stood enshrouded in a heavy, black cloak and entirely bathed in the now harsh, yellow light. Christine only remembered stopping dead in her tracks in absolute terror.

"What have you done to Raoul?" and momentarily did she forget her fear to demand an answer.

"Give me back your voice, thief!" demanded the figure and tossing back its cloak, it revealed the horrible scarred face of Erik the opera ghost himself. His cold, white fingers stretched towards Christine's throat and his mouth twisted into a gapping, endless hole in laughter.

"You will be forever mine, Christine! Christine!"

She jerked awake with a sharp shiver and found herself lying on a tall Mahogany bed. Despite the brightness of the cold morning sun filtering in from the open French windowpanes and the awareness of her nightgown soaked uncomfortably in sweat; Christine opened bleary, glazed eyes to meet the gentle, blue ones of a young lady, the only other occupant of the room. Those eyes, they resemble Raoul's.

"Who are you? Where's Raoul" Christine demanded wildly, still reeling from the memory of her dream and extremely disorientated. With almost a frenzied sense of loss, she tore at the bedclothes which had become inexplicably tangled to her and prepared as if to fly out of bed to find her fiancé.

"No, you have been quite ill and should not be out of bed," and so saying, the lady managed to restrain Christine who still very weak could offer little resistance, "It is so wonderful to see that you are finally awake! Elle our maid left to fetch Doctor Andre and I had offered to sit with you. My name is Adele and I am Raoul's cousin. You are currently in the de Chagny mansion and are perfectly safe."

Christine languidly let Adele ease her into bed and tuck the covers back into place. Drowsiness once more replaced her former unease and her feverish mind struggled to comprehend what the lady had said. …in the Chagny mansion…Adele…how… Her eyelids despite her brave attempts to keep them open inevitably begun to droop. "Thank-you for your care, Adele," Christine could only murmur, "But Raoul, is he safe? Will I be able to see him soon?"

"Yes, he is safe and I will tell him at once that you're awake. But first you must get completely well so he may come and visit you," Adele said and finished smoothing back the pink satin covers. Christine did not attempt any more protestations for sleep was fast approaching and she felt already that she could trust Raoul's cousin.

And this time, Adele watched as a frown no longer marred Christine's features as she slept.

Meanwhile, sitting quite alone in the deep recesses of a magnificently decorated drawing room with a long-forgotten novel open in his lap was none other than Raoul, the Vicomte de Chagny himself. Five days had passed since the Opera Populaire had burnt to the ground, five days in which Raoul could not remember getting a wink of sleep, five days in which Christine still lay in a senseless daze just upstairs, and only three days since his brother's body had been found floating in a lake. People mostly family and friends had drifted by and offered their words of comfort to the grieving man but he had barely heard them. They simply had not understood the trauma that he had gone through that horrible night in the hands of a madman and even now was again reliving every minute as fear for Christine tormented him. They cannot understand…no one around me besides Christine can…

The only other beings who perhaps related to his horror had been Madame Giry and her daughter Meg. He had offered after the fire destroyed their home, nay even insisted, that they stayed with him at his current abode. After all, there was plenty of room. But Madame Giry being an extremely proud woman had been adamant and had refused to intrude upon his grief when he had his hands so full already. She had left, taking Meg by the hand and informed him that all had been arranged and they would be staying with a sister of hers at a small cottage on the outskirts of Paris. She had given Raoul reassuring, motherly words beforehand, a slip of paper with their address, and a promise to visit regularly. Raoul had not attempted to change her mind by argument for he knew with Madame Giry that it would be useless. Somehow, he also felt deep in her heart that she too needed time to mourn for the phantom or Erik whom she had attempted to protect and whom she perhaps even loved in a perverse sort of way as a son.

Raoul had lost a brother whose ideas though constantly clashing with his own was still his last link to an immediate family member. Even then, they had still forbid him to be by Christine's side while she lay so ill for propriety's sake. After all, they though engaged and having been through only a life-and-death situation were still not married. Well damn propriety then... Raoul fought the urge to hurl his book into the yellow flames of the fireplace he had been staring blankly into. He brought his weary head to rest heavily on his heads before uttering a deep sigh. The Vicomte de Chagny was never known by the world to brood. He had always been considered in comparison to Philippe to be the always optimistic, always magnanimous and mild one by the rest of society. But certainly not lately as his normally bright but now exhausted blue eyes seemed to foretell. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of quick, light foot steps on the marble floor.

"Christine?" he turned abruptly, forgetting himself momentarily in his hope. He tried to mask his sense of unreasonable disappointment as he saw the slim figure of his cousin approach. Adele with a smile on her lips walked up to Raoul and exchanged a peck on the cheek with him.

"Oh Raoul, I have just been upstairs with Christine and she has awaken!" Adele rushed to impart the joyous news to her anxious cousin. Her reward was great for Adele felt as if she had yet seen a sweeter or brighter grin light up on Raoul's face. It was almost instantaneous as the years added to his face over the past few days seem to melt away. Nevertheless, she felt a strange twinge of disappointment that even as children growing up together, Raoul had ever favored her with such a smile.

"She is? She is! Oh thank God, I must see her!" and after uttering a wonderful laugh and having pulled Adele into a tight embrace, Raoul prepared to run upstairs.

"But you can't!" exclaimed Adele as she stopped her overzealous cousin. "I left her once more asleep and you mustn't disturb her." She did not add the point of her parents at once discovering the impropriety of such an act.

Raoul even in his boyish impatience comprehended and listened to the more level-headed advice of his cousin and properly submitted. But not without a tinge of disappointment mingled with indescribable joy.

"You will have to wait until she is completely recovered and out of bed, Raoul. It will not be long for her fever has almost broken according to Elle and the doctor," said Adele with a reassuring smile. "She will be up and out of bed very soon after plenty of rest."

Her cousin nodded, "Yes, it cannot be soon enough. Would that I could have been there by her side to soothe her unease. Did she ask for me?" After the initial delight, Raoul's face was again filled with the anxiety of a lover.

"She did and I reassured her that you are indeed safe and that she was currently in the de Chagny mansion. Christine seemed very relieved and I left her in a very sweet slumber. Both Elle and the doctor will return very shortly," replied Adele. She watched as Raoul closed his eyes in relief, his lips for a second moving as if he was offering up a silent prayer.

When he did open his eyes once more, Adele noticed that they seemed moist with unshed tears. "Thank-you, Adele. I do not know how I could have withstood these past few days without you," and so saying Raoul grasped his cousin's hand with gratitude and gave it a gentle squeeze. She could only murmur something about it being no trouble at all before turning her face away from his gaze, a sudden unexplainable flush rising to her cheeks.

Outside to the rest of the innocent or not so innocent inhabitants of Paris, the last bits of half-melted snow and the sudden cold blasts that still swept by marked the conclusion of January. Life went on as before other than a stray newspaper with the heading of "Opera Populaire Destroyed in Mysterious Fire" trampled onto the pavement by a passing carriage. Here the grey streets jostled with life and activity as lavishly dressed ladies in sweeping trains and fur muffs leaned on the arms of adoringly attentive gentlemen. A servant haggled viciously with the butcher for her family's supper and a small immigrant boy in breeches attempted to sneak an apple from a nearby fruit stand. Even a flea-bitten stray dog went about its own business by its constant yipping and running about in circles in bold attempts to finally catch that mysteriously wagging appendage.

No one, therefore, paid much attention to the pathetic looking figure huddled in the doorway of a long-abandoned tenement located in a narrow alley. He or she, though its dress or what was left of it suggested that of a man, was swaddled in a long, black cloak which completely hid his face. It was perhaps all well after all since that way no one would be horrified to see his deformities. This way, he could finally choose to die on his own right without the constant persecution of strangers. And as the chilly winter wind swept through with a faint whistle, Erik the former Phantom of the Opera shivered.

Thanks for Reading: I hope that was enjoyable and very sorry to leave you in a sort of cliffy. Anyways, even though I'm an R/C fan, I just didn't have the heart to kill off Erik since he is a character who fascinates me. So definitely look for further developments on him. Also don't forget to review since all comments are much appreciated and what keeps me writing.