This is the second chapter to be revised. I hope you all are enjoying the changes I made so far! As for you new readers, thanks for being so patient with the confusion of these changes.

Stumbling through the darkness, over rocks and up steep inclines in a corseted wedding dress certainly wasn't as easy as she had originally anticipated. With Erik's guidance and firm grip on her hand they emerged through the cellar into the lavish Opera's gardens. Though, they hardly resembled the stunning garden now. Charred marble crumbled the pathway as the plants hissed with the sound of dying flame. Smoke filled the air around Christine as she stepped past Erik. Covering her mouth with her hand to stifle a horrified cry she bowed her head in regret. This had been her home, the place she had played as a child. Behind her she knew Erik was feeling equally mournful, perhaps even more so. He had poured so much into the Opera Populaire and here it lay in ashes at his feet.

Turning 'round she offered a comforting smile, though her eyes remained filled with tears. His face was stoic and set in a hard line and Christine was proud of his bravery. Looping her arm through his they set off around to the courtyard. Left in no better of a state, abandoned carriages lay toppled on their sides on a bed of fabric and costumes that had escaped with the many actors and dancers. For a moment she thought about Meg and Madame Giry, did they escape? Were they still inside? Christine couldn't help but worry after them. They were all she had left in the world - other than Erik, of course.

"Wait!" A voice said from behind. Christine jumped at the sound and Erik's eyes instantly grew cold and dangerous. Fluidly he turned and positioned himself so that she was positioned protectively behind him.

In the distance the dark figure jumped over fallen pillars and was soon upon them. Christine hadn't needed to see his face to know who pursued them.

"Monsieur Viscount," Erik greeted detached and ready to fight if necessary.

"Release her," Raoul warned pointing the tip of his sword towards Erik's throat. Casting his puppy-dog brown eyes in her direction the agony written on his face nearly broke her. "Christine, my love, I should never have let you return to him. I should have known he would try to steal you away the moment my back was turned."

Ashamed by her treachery Christine hid her face from view and rested her head on Erik's back. Raoul still believed that she was being held against her will, that she was incapable of loving Erik. And why wouldn't he? She had abandoned him in the catacombs with nothing more than a false promise to return. Distraught she grabbed a fistful of Erik's coat, willing her ex-fiancé to stand down.

But she knew he wouldn't. Not without hearing it come from her lips. Gathering her courage Christine stepped beside Erik, taking his hand into her own for strength. Stubbornly she set her jaw and jutted her chin in the air proudly. "I've made my choice."

"No!" Raoul shouted, aggrieved. "I refuse to believe that you could love.../him/! He has you under some spell and he will pay!"

Raoul stepped forward his eyes violently dangerous and he rose his sword to strike Erik down. Defensively Christine's angel backed away, unarmed and unable to defend himself.

"Raoul, no!" Christine shouted as she placed herself between the battling men. Halfway through the action Raoul's arm froze in midair. Dropping his weapon his stumbled backwards, his eyes softening. Trembling she whispered hoarsely. "No."

Looking past her his eyes gazed threateningly towards Erik. "Would you really allow her to protect you?"

"Believe me, /precious/ viscount, she's the only reason I have yet to kill you." Erik was no longer a man but had resorted back the voice of the Phantom, dangerously violent and eager to kill.

"Raoul, please," Christine begged. The charged tension between the two men frightened her. They were like a coil, tense and ready for the slightest release to attack. "Let me go."

"Christine - I," the boy looked away, hiding his emotion from sight. When he looked back his desperation was gone. "I can't."

Before she could stop him Erik surged forward, using his cape to prevent Raoul from retrieving his weapon. Using his leg to unbalance Raoul, Erik sent the Viscount to the ground looking up at him from his back.

"You had the chance to kill me once," Erik hissed breathlessly. "Now, for Christine's sake, I will return the favor."

Erik backed away, allowing Raoul the freedom to prop himself up on his elbows. "Christine, if you leave with him you will regret this decision one day. And, when you do, I'll be waiting."

She was torn, if not slightly angered by Raoul's childish assumptions. But she knew there was nothing she could say that would convince him that she was perfectly sane. He loved her relentlessly and he would never stop searching for a way to 'release' her from her love for Erik.

"Raoul," Christine said gently. "I loved you once, but that was a long time ago. This is the path that I have chosen. Go, leave us, and forget me."

Looking up she met Erik's gaze and her heart filled with emotion. Written clearly on his face was confusion and disbelief that she could truly be choosing him over Raoul's security and beauty. She would gladly spend her life reassuring him that this was exactly where she wanted to be. Beside him, engulfed in their music, forever.

Reluctantly she removed her gaze to return her attention to Raoul. But he was gone. Stepping forward she searched and found his retreating form, stalking away with his head bent in defeat. Silently Erik placed his hand on her back and guided her towards the street. Although she was not regretful she couldn't help but consider the life she could have had with Raoul as they searched for a carriage to transport them out of Paris.
Although her career would have ended with the Opera house, her name would remain known throughout the city. With power and money to spare she would have undoubtedly found happiness in her position. She would have mothered children with Raoul, attended social events where Christine would have smiled and nodded courteously as other wealthy wives commented on her health but whispered about her humble beginnings behind her back. She was not from nobility and her dealings would the infamous Opera Ghost would be the topic of many conversations. There would be no more songs in her head and her dreams of performing would come to a bitter end. And that wasn't at all the life she had imagined for herself. Childhood love or no.

A life filled with music, passion, and Erik was thrilling enough to take the place of what could have been. It didn't matter if they had money or power, so long as they were together she would be happy.

With his hand positioned lovingly on her back she lifted her skirt to avoid mud-puddles. Away from the burnt Opera Populaire the night suddenly became magical. She wasn't sure what to expect but excitement charged the crisp breeze.

Together they froze as a carriage solicited to them and Erik eagerly accepted the offer. As soon as the modest dingy drew up beside them Erik opened the door for her and she climbed inside.

"Take us to Boscherville," he instructed before climbing inside.
Sitting beside her, he closed the door and the carriage lurched forward heading towards the city's limits. Boscherville seemed like such an odd location for them, but, from what she new of the little village, it was somewhat out of the way. She supposed it was a good place for them to reside for a while.

Now that they were alone she watched him with unhidden interest. He seemed distracted, distant even. He stared out the carriage window, pulling it open with long musical fingers. His other hand twitched, as they often did when he was distressed. Scooting closer Christine drew closer and leaned herself into his chest. She felt him jump at her sudden closeness but soon his arm was wrapped around her, warming her by his touch.

"I own a cottage in Boscherville," he explained awkwardly, as though he were searching for a reason to break the silence. "The caretaker died a few years ago. It will be empty for our use."

Christine hummed as she felt her eyelids grow heavy with exhaustion. "Does Boscherville have a priest?"

"I suppose so," Erik answered tentatively.

"Good," she exhaled nearly asleep. "We may need him."

Cuddling deeper into his coat she grabbed his coat protectively. Under her ear she could hear his heart pounding in his chest nervously. Despite her heavy lids she smiled before she drifted off into a deep sleep.