Author's Note: This is the final chapter of this story. There will be an epilogue to follow which will be short, yet I believe informative to how the story really ends. Look out for that in the next couple days or so. I wanted to make note of a comment I got a few times through reviews of this story, and that is the lack of a conjoining assets that make Christine and Erik have something in common. I didn't have something they both enjoyed because the point was that there was nothing they had in common. This was a twist with the plot to see that Erik was only obsessed with the idea of Christine. This is not how I see the story of POTO overall, but it was an idea I'd been toying with for some time before I began to write this phic, so this is the result of how I think that would work. It also explains why this phic ends like it does...

I would like to thank EVERYBODY who has read this story, reviewed/commented on it, and especially to those who have continued reading it to the end. I'm glad you have enjoyed up until this point and I hope that you enjoy the conclusion. I do have another fic planned after this and I've already got the beginning written on paper. After all of the craze in fairy tale retellings, I decided I'd like to make the story of Phantom into some sort of a fairy tale. The setting will be different as well as how the Phantom is created, but it also links the fluff of Leroux which will include Raoul and Christine's childhood place... Perros! More details about that are listed on my profile page and will be posted in the author's note section before chapters if necessary.

Anyway! Now that all of that is out of the way, thank you all SO much for your support throughout this fiction and please leave a comment with what you think!

- Phantom's angel

A harsh blue light and the melodic chime of a cell phone had Christine turning over toward the bedside table. She reached out to the light and flipped open the screen before even opening her eyes. She was still hardly awake as she held the phone up to her ear and cleared her throat before letting out a groggy "hello?"

"Christine," the voice said on the other end of the line.

Her stomach knotted.

Christine turned her head on the pillow and ran her arm over her brow, making failed attempts to wake herself up.

"Yeah," she said.

"It's Joe, from the restaurant," the man said in his thick Brooklyn accent, stating that which was already obvious to Christine. "You still sleepin'?"

"No, I'm up," Christine lied. "What's wrong?"

Her first thought was that he knew everything. That he was calling to check if she was coming in for her shift later that night. That he was going to chide her for being such a child and leaving everything behind her. But how could he possibly know? Nobody could possibly know her and Raoul's plan.

"I have your necklace here," Joe said.

"Necklace?" Christine asked.

She sat up in the bed, looking over to Raoul, who had now turned away from her and pulled the covers over his head.

They both had a long night, pacing around the apartment silently, deciding which possessions were worth bringing on their flight from New York City. Their eyes met every so often, but they didn't dare say another word to each other after their preceding conversation. Christine collected very little, while Raoul was torn on what items of his past he would bring along with him. Christine peered around the corner at times, seeing how hard it was for him to decide. Christine felt sorry that she would be taking Raoul away from his past, because he had nothing to run from. Yet here she was, dragging him away; hiding from her demon just as she had in the past. At least this time, she wouldn't be alone.

Christine turned away, clearing her throat again.

"Yeah, the cross you always wear," Joe said. "It was on the counter this morning when I came in. I thought I'd let you know as soon as possible, but I didn't expect you to still be in bed this late."

Christine pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at the time.

9:17 am.

After the stress of the night before, Christine didn't care what he thought about her sleeping patterns. She only cared that they were loosing valuable time in leaving.

"I'll be there in half an hour," Christine said.

"Oh, you don't have to get it now," Joe said. "I just didn't want you worrying about it. Pick it up before your shift tonight."

Christine was already pulling the covers off of her legs and stepping onto the floor. A shiver embraced her warm skin, hunching her shoulders in to protect her from the chill. She pulled the phone down from her ear and looked to the closet, where a section of clothes she planned to take with her was hanging aside from the rest she would leave behind. Then she looked across to the dresser where the rest of her items were placed; the pencils, erasers and paint brushes. They were still sitting where she had kept them last night.

With a deep sigh, Christine held the phone back up to her ear again.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Before leaving, Christine informed Raoul for the reason of her absence and urged him to wake and prepare for their departure. He looked apprehensively at her, but then smiled and shook his head. It seemed clear that he understood how much the small trinket meant to her.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" he asked.

"You have more to pack than I do," Christine replied. "Gather what you can and start pack in twenty minutes. By then, I should be on my way back."

"Alright," Raoul said, pulling her in close to planting a kiss on her forehead.

"Once I get back, I'll put my things in a bag and we'll leave immediately."

"Hurry back," Raoul urged.

"I will," Christine said, forcing a weak smile.

The bell rang as Christine pushed through the door of the small local restaurant. Joe was the owner and manager of the place and was standing beside a senior server named Kathy who had been working the morning shift ever since Christine started. Kathy was pouring coffee into an elderly man's cup and looked up, nodding to Joe as Christine came strolling in. Immediately, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a white sheet of paper. Within the crumpled page a silver chain dangled out of its folds.

"There it is," Joe announced as Christine approached the counter.

Christine immediately reached her hand out for it, expecting to simply take her property and leave.

Instead, Joe turned it over in his hand and uncrumpled the paper, unraveling the chain from within.

"Left on table 11, please return to Christine," he read from the note aloud. "Not sure who wrote it, but they do know the restaurant."

"What?" Christine asked quietly.

"I don't know, that's just what the note said," Joe explained.

"You don't know who left it?" Christine asked.

"Not a clue," Joe said.

Christine shot her hand out for the necklace, urging for her manager to pass it off to her quickly. His eyes watched as her fingers unfurled over the counter top, and Kathy glanced over to him, showing her disapproval of Christine's disrespect toward him.

"I'm sorry," Christine said to try and amend, "I…I need to get going."

"You want the note?" Joe asked.

"No, that's—"

She didn't want to see it, but her sudden anxiety over the moment told her otherwise.

"Yes, please," she said.

Joe held the necklace and the paper over the counter, crumpled together in one. Christine took it cautiously and turned to leave, planning on never looking back again. As she reached the door, Joe called out to her.

"See you in tonight?"

Christine forced a smile and pushed the door open.

As soon as Christine left the restaurant, she began to run. She held the necklace and the paper clutched in her fingers until she was stopped by the traffic crossing in front of her. Her fingers unraveled the paper from its chain and flattened it in the palm of her hand.

It was just as Joe had read it: Left on table 11, please return to Christine.

The writing caught Christine's attention first.

She remembered the style from a leather bound notebook she'd grown to know, and it was identical to the small, scratchy penmanship that was scrawled across the note in her hand.

Her eyes lit with horror, remembering that she had specifically taken her necklace off the night before and left it with the few belongings she planned to take with her. There was only one way it would have turned up at the restaurant.

Without a moment's hesitation, Christine began to make her way across the street, unfathomed by the angry horns wailing at her as she crossed against the signal's biding.

All she knew was that she had to get back to Raoul.

She could see the door to the apartment was open when she has half-way through the hall. No light was shining from inside, yet she could see that the door was wide open. Christine ran, gripping tightly onto the necklace and the paper together. She pulled open the door and stopped, hearing a shuffling sound just around the corner from the entry.

"Raoul?" she called.

Another rustle.

Then silence.

"Raoul?" Christine called again, slowly stepping around the corner.

Her eyes first caught sight of the curtains drawn from the window. The sunlight was harsh against the contrasting dark from the entry. Christine shielded her eyes and searched as she heard another shuffle and then a muffled voice calling her name.

"Raoul!"

Just to the side of the window, Christine could see Raoul struggling, standing on the arm of the couch, trying not to fall backwards. Behind him was a cloaked figure gripping a looped rope around Raoul's neck. One arm held the lasso up into the air while the other was holding Raoul up against his chest with light amber eyes glowing above him.

"Erik, no!" Christine cried.

Raoul struggled against the figure's chest again, but Erik casually pulled the rope up higher, cutting Raoul's breath short. He coughed and spat, trying to regain his breath as Erik let a low chuckle escape from his lips. Without paying one glance behind him, Erik tossed the excess rope behind him over a rod that stuck out from the window's banister. It looped around twice until Erik took a step down from the couch, holding the rope low in his hands. With a quick tug, the rope tightened around Raoul's neck and he was nearly hanging in the air, unable to breath.

Christine took a step forward, throwing her hand up into the air to try and cease Erik's behavior.

"How long did you think you'd have until I knew, Christine?" Erik sneered.

Her hand continued reaching out to Raoul, her lips quivering.

"Please, Erik…"

"How long?" Erik shouted.

"I don't know, Erik, please," she begged. "Let him go."

"Why would I do that, Christine?" Erik asked. "Because you want to leave with him? Because he's the one who is meant to save you from the monster?"

"Erik—"

"Quiet!" he screamed at her. "You knew damn well you could never truly escape from me!"

Christine slowly took a step toward Raoul, holding a cautious hand up in the air, hoping that she could at least get to his side before Erik realized. As soon as her foot stepped onto the ground, Erik nearly ran up in front of her, holding the excess rope tight in his grip as he went. His hands locked around her shoulders and dug their boney fingers into her flesh. Christine struggled against him, crying out in pain as he whipped her head back to face him.

"He is not good for you, Christine Daae," Erik spat at her. "He does nothing but show you off. There's no regard for your well-being in his intentions…"

"No," Christine said, struggling against him again. She pushed her hands up against his and forced his arms to release her. The rope tightened in their struggle and Raoul choked again. Christine made her best attempts to remain focused. "No, Erik, you're wrong. You're not good for me."

Erik remained still, looking straight into her eyes. He took a steady step forward, unphased by her words, and leaned close against her, closing the gap between them. Christine trembled, afraid that he would try and embrace her as he had the night before. He could see her fear, for a smirk crossed his lips and a single gloved hand reached up and ran through her hair.

"Would it be so terrible, Christine?" he said smoothly. "If I were to kiss you once again?"

"I would not allow it," Christine said as bravely as possible.

"That's not what I asked you," Erik said, almost sadly.

He took a step away from Christine, running the rope holding Raoul through his fingers as elegantly as he had smoothed her hair. His grace didn't fail him, even now in the terror of the moment. Christine shuddered at how easy it was for him.

"I didn't ask to be brought into your life, Christine. It just happened… I didn't want to damage you so, but you were such a simple girl. You were so simple and so afraid, and you needed someone to protect you."

A tear crossed over Christine's cheek, staining her skin and breaking a path for the rest of the tears that followed. She knew she was weak and she knew she needed strength. But she also knew that Erik's strength also made her weaker. He overpowered her too much.

"You need somebody to keep you away from the demons in your life… not somebody to throw more at you," Erik said, tossing the last of his words as an insult to Raoul.

Christine looked to the ground, feeling shame ride over her. She was ashamed to have been so naïve to allow herself to fall prey to Erik's games. She was ashamed to have let herself believe that he would truly protect her. And most of all, she was ashamed to have brought all of this upon Raoul.

"You cannot continue like this," Erik nearly whispered.

His hand reached out toward her, coaxing Christine to take it and step into his embrace once again. The darkness of his coat beckoned her, nearly making her forget about Raoul all over again. The dark… that which Erik lived in and which Christine had become strangely so accustomed to. Even in the months absent of Erik's presence, Christine was shadowed in darkness.

"No, I can't," Christine agreed slowly.

She reached out, placing her hand in his grasp. His fingers curled around her and he looked deep within her eyes, keeping her fixated on the amber orbs staring into her.

"Yes, my love," Erik cooed, pulling her into his arms.

"Christine, no," Raoul said in a muffled tone, struggling to gain slack on the rope holding him up.

Christine didn't look over to him. She kept her eyes on Erik, searching to imagine what was behind the mask he wore. Not for the face which she had seen, but for the soul which consumed the tortured soul.

What drove the man beneath the mask; the one who harbored a treacherous heart when provoked? What madness could she evoke from him now?

"You don't love me," Christine said boldly, staring into his amber eyes with pity. "You know nothing of love at all."

Erik's grip tightened on her hand, squeezing her delicate fingers until they went numb. Christine kept her gaze steady on him.

"You saw my face and became obsessed with me. You learned every aspect of my life and fell in love with the idea of me," she continued. "You know every petty fact about me, but you could never know the details which you cannot define."

Erik whipped her around and shot an arm out from the folds of his jacket, gripping tightly around her neck. Christine hardly tried to defend herself against him, but Raoul wildly thrashed against the rope holding him, kicking and pounding against the walls to try and loosen the hold.

"Shut up!" Erik roared at her, lowering his face up against hers.

Erik threw her out from his grip and across the room, spilling her onto the floor into the side of a bookshelf. Christine cried out, but remained on the floor, looking down at her hands to brave herself for her neck blow.

"You've become fixated on covering up your face that you needed me to control you," Christine yelled.

Erik crossed back in Christine's direction, storming over her body on the floor and leaned over her with his hands out and coiled, ready to strike.

"My beauty was what drew you to me in the first place, and without that, you'd never even know me."

His hands sprung out and grabbed onto her hair, pulling her up off of the floor and holding her up into her face. Her feet kicked beneath her, eventually finding their footing to hold her up on her own, but Erik had his masked face up against hers, his eyes nearly on fire and his teeth bared like a beast.

"Shut up!" he screamed louder this time.

A hand reached back.

"Do it!" Christine cried. "Go ahead, hit me! I'm not afraid of you anymore!"

Erik's hand ceased its motion, remaining still in the air behind him.

Raoul stirred on the couch beside them, a soft moan coming from him as he watched how close the man was to hitting his girlfriend.

"I know you use violence to ease your pain," Christine said softly this time. "You protected me because you can't protect yourself."

Erik's hold released completely. His eyes shone with anger, yet his lips were slightly parted as apprehension showed through his eyes. His arms dropped to his sides and he stepped backward, curling his arms into his chest and embracing himself against the words of truth used against him.

"Christine," Raoul murmured, breaking her spell as she watched Erik retract.

She slowly turned to see him standing as still as possible, pulling at the lasso around his neck and trying to restrain his fear. Christine sighed, seeing the fear inside of the eyes of the man she loved. Her time with Erik had reduced him to this: a weakened man who was willing to give up his life for a foolish child.

Christine pressed her hand to her lips and kissed the tips of her fingers, throwing the kiss across to him as she turned her hand out.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed to him. "I love you."

"No," Raoul said, struggling against the rope, nearly pulling out of the trap through Erik's loosened grip.

Christine turned back to Erik and rose up to her knees. Her head arched back to look him straight in the eye and her hands held out at the level of her chest.

"I will go with you," Christine said carefully. "Forever."

Erik turned slowly toward Christine.

He took one long step to her and was hovering over her again. Christine's eyes remained on his as he looked to her over the tip of where his nose should have been underneath the mask. Christine could not read the expression showing through his eyes; they were nearly blank.

"I will go with you," she continued, "If you let Raoul go."

His eyes then illustrated regret.

I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…

Just like she heard through muffled cries… just could see when he first planned to take her down to his world in the darkness of the city.

"I'm sorry, Christine," he said.

He broke his glance with Christine, slowly gathering the rope in his hand as he walked back toward Raoul. Christine remained on the floor, watching as Erik reached out toward the noose around Raoul's neck. He untied a single loop from the banister of the window.

"No matter where you go," Erik said slowly; deliberately… as if he'd planned it. "Whatever you may do… the boy will follow you."

Christine cocked her head to the side.

"I don't understand."

Erik stepped up onto the couch, toying with the lasso. Christine watched him, waiting for him to slip it up and over his head.

"Even under my protection, you are not safe from him," Erik said, giving the noose a quick tug. "No matter where you go, he will always be out to find you… And we can't have that."

As Christine prepared to jump up onto her feet, Erik turned to Raoul and gave him a swift kick to the chest. The rope loosened from the banister, unraveling in Erik's hands as Raoul fell back into the window, crashing through the glass. His legs hit the backing of the couch behind him, flipping him over as he continued to fall, slipping out of the shattered window toward the street below. Christine tipped over her feet as she attempted to rise, reaching a hand out to the air as she watched the horror wash over Raoul's face. He was almost lifeless as he knew his fate was coming rather quickly… all that was stopping him from hitting the concrete below was the end of the rope which Erik controlled.

The rope halted with a quick jerk and then there was silence.

Christine had managed to pull Raoul's body back into the apartment on her own. She couldn't stand to hear the cries of hatred from the people below, assuming that the person left inside of the apartment had murdered the poor man left dangling over the street. She was uncertain how Erik fled, but it didn't matter. She was now alone with Raoul… finally alone. She could feel it.

She cradled his body in her arms, caressing his bloodied cheeks and assorting the misplaced hair around his temples. The murmurs on the street seemed to disappear for just a moment as she held him in her arms and kissed his lips. She cradled him like a child, finally being the one to watch over him as had had done before.

Her hands were clutched together, but a sharp sting on Christine's palm urged her to open her hand, revealing the cross necklace she had gone to retrieve that morning. The crumpled paper was still wrapped around the chain, decaying from the moistness of Christine's hand throughout the scenario. She unraveled the necklace and dropped the paper onto the floor, holding the cross over Raoul's body. The silver piece glistened in the sun reflecting from the open window. Christine unhooked the clasp and wrapped it around Raoul's neck, clipping it around him tenderly.

As she began to hear sirens in the distance, she took the time to step away from Raoul's body and pulled out her cell phone.

Slowly, she dialed 911.

"Yes, I'd like to report a murder…"

She didn't give many details to the dispatcher, but as a swarm of police and investigators entered the apartment, she told them everything she knew.

She told them that it was done by a man named Erik. There was no last name to report. She informed them that he had killed at least two others that she knew of, and even gave them the best knowledge of his last known residence. They removed the body quickly, easing only an ounce of Christine's pain, but the investigators stayed much longer, questioning Christine repeatedly to be sure they were getting a truthful story; it all must have seemed too insane to be true, but her continued honesty and repetition made them eventually begin to suspect her less.

"Come down to the department tonight for further questioning," the officers concluded. "If he is still a threat to you, we will place you under a protection program."

Christine nodded slowly.

"Yes, of course. I will."

Christine took great care in preparing herself before leaving that night. It would be the last time she would be seen out in the city and she wanted the moment to at least feel decent. She had taken her favorite coat, a red scarf and a warm knitted hat and left everything else behind. She took an empty purse to give the impression that she actually had a reason to be dressed so nicely. No possessions, no art tools, and no clothes were necessary this time. She knew what she had to do.

As she made her way down the street, her boots echoed on the sidewalk, mocking her solitude as she went.

She once had everything: a loving boyfriend, a place to live, a job, scholarships, and potential as an artist. Now as she looked about New York City for the last time, she felt nothing.

The construction zone was nearly complete just down the street from the apartment building she would once have called her home. As she walked toward it, she felt no fear as the men stopped from their work and whistled out to her. They called her beautiful, coaxing her to stop for a conversation or to pass along her phone number, but she simply kept her head high and continued on until she was past them. Then it was over.

Silly child, she thought. Was that all it took?

Turning down the alley she once hoped to find shelter in, a dark figure waited on the other end. Christine paused, noticing that the figure's head was turned down and had a hood to cover their features. Taking in a short breath of air, she walked forward, pressing straight toward the shadow without fear. She'd never need protection again.

As she approached closer to the shadow, a hand shot out from the folds of the jacket and it grabbed onto Christine's wrist. She stopped and looked straight into the glow of amber eyes.

"You told the police everything," the phantom figure said.

"I did," Christine said valiantly. "I know they'll never find you."

Christine could see Erik's eyes wandering over her and an amused smile press over his lips. She took a step closer to him. Their misted puffs of breath lingered together in the night as Erik looked down onto Christine's face with contentment.

"They'll never find either of us," Erik said.

"No," Christine said distantly.

Erik lifted his arm and Christine immediately stepped beneath his jacket, allowing his arm to fold across her chest. As accustomed, Erik tilted his head down as he walked, avoiding contact with any wandering eyes as they went. This time, Christine kept her head up high.

She didn't wish to be discovered.

But rather than walking in shame, she wanted to walk in pride.

Her life as she wished it to be was now over. But in her sacrifice, she was saving those she had left who she loved. She was saving those she never had the chance to meet. She knew her life was no longer hers, but meant to keep the sanity of the man who had fallen into obsession with her. And now, as she walked toward her fate, she knew that despite her hopes that anybody would someday find her… Erik would always find a way against that.

Reviews greatly appreciated... epilogue to come.