A/N: Apparently when i first reposted this, the last half was missing and i'm only now, over a month later, noticing... not sure how that happened. so yeah, i'm adding that now and am very sorry if you had trouble following the end of this chapter to ch5.

Raoul sat patiently in his study, waiting for his wife's return. He had returned to the front entrance to find it deserted and undisturbed. It was not long before he noticed Christine's cloak missing, where she had gone was clearly obvious. Against all his better judgment he did not pursue her, he would trust her, and should she not return... well he would simply not think of that now.

Unsuccessfully he attempted to keep his mind off matters. While he would stare at the same first page of the news paper a little voice in his head would ask questions he did not wish to know the answers to. 'Why did she leave?' It would say, 'why wouldn't she tell you? Does she not trust you? You saw, you knew that was not your ring she was wearing. When you took her from him, was it thanks you saw in her eyes?.. Or was that pain?'

A sudden pop and an odd sensation to his right fingers averted his attention. He looked down to where he had managed to pierce the expensive fabric to the arm of his chair under his harsh grip. Cursing under his breath Raoul stood to open a window, the heat of the room was suffocating.

The majority of the afternoon was carried out in much of the same fashion. Occasionally a servant would hear an odd crashing noise emanate from behind the daunting oak door before scurrying off in the opposite direction. The hours swept away quickly as Raoul's frustration mellowed to worried concern till at last the front door could be heard opening.

As soon as Christine stepped through the entrance she was met with a rather stern faced Raoul but it quickly fell back to one of concern as soon as he looked his wife over. The girl looked as though she had been through hell and back as her soft pleading eyes met his. Her hair was in a disheveled array, eyes bloodshot in contrast to her skin which was a deathly white; the hem of her dress was thoroughly caked in mud which rose to about the height of her knees. She looked utterly pitiful.

"Christine." An unbearable urge to take her in his arms overcame him, but he would not, he would demand an explanation so as to finally put those damnedable voices, which so vigorously enjoyed tormenting his mind, to rest.

Christine looked down as her hands fidgeted in the folds of her skirt. "I'm sorry Raoul. But I had a duty…"

"A duty? A duty is why you left with no word? Is why I've spent the last 6 hours wondering if you would ever return!" his voice grew with every word he spoke. He did not mean to sound so angry but he couldn't help it. How could she possibly think she owed that monster anything, and to go behind his back to do so. What was she hiding, he wondered.

"I didn't mean any harm." She resembled a child being scolded as she replied, looking away helpless. Raoul glared at her words as his eyes caught site of a certain something on her hand.

"No, no harm done at all Christine." His anger was finally getting the best of him as the light glared across her hand, taunting him. "Nothing wrong with going to see the murderer who kidnapped you and tried to kill me. Do tell me, how many were injured and killed by that chandelier again?" Her husbands' cruel sarcasms cut through her like a knife, she would not condone Erik's actions but Raoul didn't know what his life was, how much he suffered at mans hand. Feeling increasingly defensive, Christine straightened herself to her full dignity.

"Erik is dead Raoul! What more is it that you want from him?" She snapped back, though the words were painful for her to speak. Dead. Her angel was dead. This life wasn't what he deserved.

"I want nothing from that insane monster!" Raoul returned quickly, taking a step towards her. Before Christine realized what she was doing her hand met quickly across her husbands face with a loud slap. The noise faded to a deafening silence as a trembling Christine stood opposite a bewildered Raoul.

She stared at him in shocked disbelief of what had happened, her eyes wide and her mouth gapping like that of a fish as she stepped back holding her hand. Raoul too stood wide-eyed and motionless. His hand rested upon the side of his face, which was now a stinging bright red. Was this now his sweat innocent Christine who would never lift her hand to anyone standing before of him?

All the hurt and the pain that Christine now saw across Raoul's face was almost enough to bring her to her knees in shame. How could she have struck her own husband! Would she always be hurting the people she loved? When she finally found her voice it was nothing more than an airy mumble, "Oh god... I'm sorry Raoul. I didn't mean... Oh god."

"Do you want to know what more I want?" Raoul asked in a pained voice, which became harder and harder for him to keep from breaking. He tried to hold on, tried to continue to believe that it was he that she truly loved but it was becoming increasingly difficult to convince him self. Roughly he grabbed Christine's wrist and yanked it to the front of their view. "This Christine!" He was clearly gesturing to that small band of gold resting on her fourth finger. "I want to know what This means." And with that he flung her hand away from him.

Christine looked away ashamed, unsure of how to answer. She had put Raoul through so much already, how could she explain this without hurting him further. "Raoul please..." she slowly brought her head up to meet his gaze as she tried to find her words. "This... everything that has happened, it's so hard for me. I'm sorry, I know you can't understand. I need... time, I need... oh I don't know what I need, I don't seem to know anything anymore!"

Her eyes, which she had thought were drained, threatened to spill once more that day as she saw the utter torment she was putting her husband through. Will I always be hurting the ones I love? My god I struck him, my husband, what is wrong with me? I don't deserve him, never did. He must hate me, his brother would still be alive if it wasn't for me. . . and Erik... I am the true murderer.

Raoul stood there, listening to her "explanation" as his heart sunk within him. His expression remained unmoved by her glassy eyes, he did not know what he wanted her to say but he knew this wasn't it. Before he realized what was happening, Christine bolted from the door and was running away down the street leaving him in stunned confusion for a moment.

"Christine!" he yelled desperately. "Wait! Don't go!" Quickly Raoul grabbed his coat and shoes but by the time he left the house his wife had completely disappeared. Frantically he ran down the streets looking for her as worry consumed his mind. She was not thinking straight he told himself, she could find her self lost, or become injured someway, or turn down the wrong alley... No, he would search all night if he had to and make sure that she was safe.

Light rain and bitter winds ascended as the sky turned to black. Most people had turned in for the night rather then fight the freezing cold while those without homes stayed in close quarters around fires. So empty the streets seemed as Christine walked on, never wanting to turn back though she knew eventually she had to. Her body felt almost limp as she forced every step, the exertion of that day had taken a vast toll on her body which was now also soaked and numb.

After what seemed like hours she found herself once again at the park where she made the decision to marry Raoul. Shivering she took in the sight, it was so desolate and dreary in contrast to the last time she was there. It is a cruel trick of fate that I find myself once again at this place. The atmosphere is certainly the welcome I deserve.

Christine's mind continued to blame her for all that had happened, for all the pain, all the death that seemed to constantly surround her. The ache growing in her chest from the harsh air instinctively brought her to that same bench from weeks earlier. With great relief she rested herself down, thinking she'd only take a small rest before turning back for home. Lightly she closed her eyes against the continuous rain and winds.

All was black; Christine could not see a thing as she tentatively looked about her. She could not even see her own hand as she brought it up to her face. The black around her was so vast she felt as though it were suffocating her. A violent tremor passed through her body as fear took over her mind. Something was very wrong.

Slowly her hand felt the area around her, she was not where she should be, there was no wind, no rain, and the cold was not so bad... she also became aware that her clothes were dry. The ground was rough; she was sitting on a dirt floor she finally concluded. A whimper escaped her lips as she grasped helplessly for a wall of some sorts.

"Christine." It was only a soft whisper through the air, but it was a voice Christine would never forget. Instantly Christine pulled her self together and brought herself to her feet. "You should not be here," it continued.

"Erik! I can't see." She pleaded into the darkness in confusion. Nothing was making sense to her.

"Open your eyes Christine." His voice sounded so sad now, but where was he?

"They are open!" she cried frantically, her trembling was becoming fierce.

"Open your eyes Christine." The voice repeated calmly.

"Erik please," she stumbled forward taking a few cautious steps towards the direction she thought his voice was originating from. A light opened up to her side, it was a bend in the passage way. Christine looked down and saw that she was in the cellars of the opera house, and that Erik stood only a number of feet away. He was there, on the shore of the underground lake standing in the boat with poll in hand. He looked just as he always did, his hat casting a shadow down his face with his cloak hanging smoothly down his back though he was not wearing his mask. The light was emanating from a small lamp attached to the head of the boat which looked more like a glowing orb from all the mist surrounding it.

As soon as Christine saw him she started to make her way to the shore but he put one commanding hand up in a gesture for her to remain still. She halted instantly, confused.

"I have to go now Christine." With a heavy sigh he turned to push the boat from the shore.

"No! Wait!" again she darted toward him but he turned just as quickly and again made a gesture for her to stop. She felt as though if those hands were to ask her to jump from a cliff she do it. "Do you hate me so?" she asked desperately, her arms wide and her face filled with anguish as her eyes began to fill with tears.

"I could never hate you." He looked down as he said this, resting his weight on the poll. The mist was growing steadily now as it rose above the level of the boat.

"Please then, let me come with you! I love you Erik, you must believe me! I don't want to leave you again. Please take me with you; it's you I want to be with. I love you too much to leave you again!" She would have continued to beg and plead if the look in his eyes hadn't stopped her. There was so much sorrow and pain in that look he gave, she wasn't sure but she thought she saw tears in his own eyes as he once again turned away. This time Christine stood and watch as the boat drifted into the mist which now was so thick it consumed his figure within seconds.

The room once again turned to black. Out of helplessness Christine simply sat back on the floor while wiping away the tears which still stained her face. And then, she opened her eyes...

i'm still confused how that last bit was cut off and i didn't notice, and nobody else said anything that made me notice...

Please RR ; )