A/N: Mooahahaha! I left you all on a cliff hanger! evil cackle Oh well, you probably won't read this because you want to know what happens, so I'll let you go... sorry for the bagillion-year break, crazy schedule! And sorry this is so short! I promise the next one will be longer! Oh well! So long, farewell, wait, this isn't Sound of Music!

Disclaimer: Roses are red, that's nothing new, I don't own Phantom of the Opera, how about you?

Chapter 4: Diamond in the Rough

The very sight before me turned my being numb.

A shivering mass of torn, blood stained fabric cowered from the mob a mere five feet from where I was standing.

"We've got him! Alert the authorities!"

"The Opera Ghost! He's here! The murderer himself, we've got him!"

A man with a cane reached down and snatched something from the form.

It flew high into the air, and clattered at my feet. I only got a glimpse of white before another man drew it up before the crowd. The terrible cheer echoed throughout the streets. A loud crack brought my attention back to the heart of the mob. The blows against the mauled flesh sung an awful, slicing sound and pricked my nerves. The cane sounded its cry once more, and the spots of burgundy became pools upon the tattered white shirt.

"Show yourself, Phantom!"

He stretched down his hand and wrenched up upon the tangle of hair. The facing crowd gasped and screamed. The arms that fought desperately to conceal himself were yanked behind his back, causing blood to ooze where the skin stretched. The crowd-pleaser once again hauled and rotated the spectacle for the audience's viewing.

My Angel, my mentor, my Guardian…was exposed and defenseless right before my eyes. He had changed since last I saw him. His skin clung tighter to his bones and his eyes… the stormy orbs which had once churned with every emotion now seemed glazed over with a tragic calm. His downcast pupils raised and, to my utter regret, were drawn to my figure in the crowd. His eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly, unspoken shock radiating through to my core.

"What you looking at, Devil!"

Eyes landed on me from all directions. The man with the cane let out a hyena-like laugh. "Well, it looks like our beast has beheld a beauty!"

Another blow met his back, but he recovered, returning his gaze back to my person. His sight lingered on my left hand finger, and a bead of sweat dropped from his clenched jaw.

The blows continued, but his penetrating stare never wavered, his vibe, searing an unnamed emotion that boiled and churned beneath my breast.

It seemed like hours before two policemen dragged him from the mob's grasp forcing the lock our exchange had welded, to break. I just stood there as he was forced into the cart, wads of saliva landing on his thrashed back. The crowd pushed past me and proceeded to trail the vehicle, leaving me standing alone in the square, the car, disappearing around the corner.

Harsh wind tugged at my clothing and brought a piece of paper fluttering to my feet. Kidnapping and murder…

"Oh, thank heavens! I thought the crowd was going to swallow us both!" Mme. O'Kinly's eyes drifted to the corner where the procession had marched, and then to me. "They found 'im didn't they?" The cheery disguise in her voice had left and what was left was the solemn, in her understanding of my past. A simple nod of my head landed her grasp upon my shoulders as we made our way back to the abandoned carriage.

The ride home was a blur. Those eyes. There was nothing that could make me forget the look in his eyes when he saw me in the crowd. It was as if every memory, every moment we shared, he had emitted through his eyes and pierced into my soul.

"Mme. O'Kinly?"

"Yes dear?"

"What will happen to him?" She took a long breath looked long at my questioning figure in the cab.

"I heard ees scheduled to be hanged." I swallowed hard at the harsh reality that sunk deep to my core.

The corners of my eyes burned and I shifted my gaze to the passing landscape. It wasn't long before we were once again at the door front of the de Changy residence.

My door slammed before Raoul could get a word in and fine linens met my burning cheeks. No tears. Why?

I didn't care if I crumpled my dress or about the stiff corset prodding my abdomen. I buried myself in the abundance of pillows and just breathed.

My eyes traveled down to my finger, still tingling from the heat of his stare. The gleam of diamonds overpowered the pearl's milky luster.

His face…

It was without a mask. His misfortune, exposed to the multitude. A pearl surrounded by diamonds. Or was he? It was curious…I hadn't even noticed the lack of his mask. Probably because his gaze held more attention. Those diamonds of eyes which overpowered the misfortune…