Chapter Five

You Alone

"This night is too long

Have no strength to go on,

No more pain, I'm falling away…

Through the mist see the face

Of an angel, calls my name

I remember you're the reason that I stay…"

"Pale", Within Temptation

He was haunted by her memory when he was awake.

He was plagued by dreams of her when he was asleep.

There were times when Erik wanted to burn all memories of her from his mind, yet there were times when he clung to them like a lifeline, as if they were the only thing he had left to live for.

He refused to believe it had only been a week since his Christine left him with that boy, leaving him alone in the catacombs of the Opera House. It felt like a lifetime ago, and every day that passed, he was born again to relive the pain, to suffer through the loneliness, condemned to relive it all over and over until true death would eventually claim him.

A week. It couldn't have possibly been only a week.

Erik was dreaming again.

The cruel memory of her sweet, soft lips on his own, the intoxicating whisper of her tongue against his mouth. The kiss ended far too soon, and yet it seemed to have lasted an eternity as Christine lifted his heart from the darkness, letting it soar to the heavens and touch the stars…

And then she was gone, leaving his along, dropping him back into the darkness of reality. Never before had he felt such loneliness. He had always been alone, but now that he knew what he was missing from life, the feeling burrowed deep inside him like a poisonous thorn, the burning pain of his broken heart searing to every corner of his body.

Desperately, Erik called out her name, reaching out to her, but was met only with the empty darkness, and her diamond ring blinking mockingly up at him…

Erik awoke with a start. Beads of cold sweat clung to his forehead, yet he could feel hot tears in his eyes, streaming down his face. Angrily, he wiped them away and fell back so heavily onto the bed that the frame shifted.

Someone groaned next to him.

Erik's head snapped around, his sharp eyes seeking out the intruder in the poor light of Christine's old room. He had been so undone in the past few days that he did not even notice that he was not alone. Erik did not care who it was; he felt so unnerved and unstable that he was ready to strangle his uninvited guest…

Until he saw the dark mass of chocolate curls framing a pale, angelic face that rested serenely on the side of his bed.

For several long, dragging moments, Erik could only stare, wondering if what he was seeing was true, daring to believe that it was true, praying that it was not just another cruel dream…

…that Christine, his Christine, was really here, with him…

Slowly, Erik lifted a trembling hand, hesitating to touch her to prove to himself that she was real, but before his fingers could stroke her silky strands, Christine stirred again, her eyelids fluttering. She was waking up. Erik immediately withdrew his hand, his heart thundering behind his ribs.

Christine lifted her head slowly, looking for a moment as if she could not remember where she was. When Erik whispered her name, and their eyes met for the first time in…a week! Only a week! Erik began to allow a faint glimmer of hope enter his heart when her eyes lit up when she looked at him, as if, Heaven forbid, she might have been happy to see him…

Then he saw his mask laying discarded on the nightstand beside her.

With a horrified gasp, Erik's hand flew to the deformed side of his face, turning away from her, back into the darkness…

Just as quickly, Christine's hands came up to take told of his, trying to prevent him from recoiling away, from running from her again.

"Erik, please…" Christine whispered, sitting up on the edge of the bed, using it as a leverage to pry his hand away from her face. "Please don't hide from me." He did not budge, but Christine was able to slip a slender hand under his so her cool palm was pressed against the twisted flesh of his face. Immediately he dropped her hand, as if he did not want to subject her to touch such a monstrosity.

Christine sat back, watching him intently, waiting for him to speak. He would not look at her.

What was she doing here?

And, more importantly, did the Vicomte know she was here…?

"What are you doing here, Christine?"

The light in Christine's eyes flickered, but she hoped that he would not see the hopeful expression in her face falter. His voice was not necessarily bitter, nor was it overly cold…but it was certainly not warm or welcoming.

As if you should be so surprised. You crushed his soul, tore his heart from his chest. Did you really think he would welcome you back with open arms? Bracing herself for the worse, Christine drew a quiet breath, trying to keep her own voice light and steady, but she knew before she ever spoke a word that this conversation would end with her in tears. She had to make the most of it while she was still in control.

"I…I…" she began, cursing herself inwardly when the words would not form. She had come all the way here, she had ended her engagement to Raoul, evaded the police, felt her way down to his home in complete darkness, and now she was tongue tied. She had not even thought about what she would say to him if she did find him alive.

Well, he's alive now. Anything you say will sound foolish, regardless of how it's said. If I don't take the first step, this will only end badly…

"When…when Raoul and I left…" she really did not want to bring Raoul's name into their meeting so early, but she could think of no other way to ignite the conversations… "The mob was still coming…and I did not know if you had escaped or not. I…I was fearing the worse, but no one could tell me if you had gotten away, not even Madame Giry. So…I had to see for myself…"

"So what was it that drove you to come here, really? Guilt? Pity? You've come this far, you might as well not skip around the details."

Christine flinched at Erik's accusing words, but she would not allow herself to be frightened away. Heaven only knew that if she left now, she would never regain the courage to return, and she would spend the rest of her life regretting never telling him the truth because she was too much of a coward to do so.

Erik was right about one thing, however; there was no use in avoiding any details.

She had crossed the find threshold the moment she step foot in the ruins of the Opera Populaire.

It took every ounce of self control to restrain the tears as Christine opened the floodgates of her confession. "I came back because I was afraid, Erik." She blurted out, with far more emotion than she would have preferred. She took a breath, trying to calm herself down before continuing. Erik was still not looking at her. "Ever since I left that night, I've…been having nightmares. Horribly nightmares… I kept seeing, over and over again, the mob burning your home, and I'm holding your mask while standing in the flames. Then the mask be-begins to bleed, but I can't find you, no matter how much I call out…" By now tears coursed down her face, but went unnoticed. "…I can't find you. It's the first time in years that you're not with me…and I was so, so afraid…"

Silence hung thick in the air surrounding them. Christine sat poised at the edge of the bed, her hands clenched into tight fists around the sheets, waiting for Erik to speak…

"And it did not occur to you that if you left, I would not have been with you? I suppose you welcomed that idea then."

Guilt began to clench around Christine's chest, as if a giant snake was coiling itself around her, slowly tightening its death grip. "I…I didn't know." Christine stammered, feeling helplessly childish. "I didn't know how much I would miss you from my life…"

"No…I suppose you wouldn't have known, since life with the Vicomte was promised to be so perfect…"

Christine bowed her head, her voice nothing more than a whisper. "Please…don't bring him into it. He is not at fault."

Erik snorted dryly, but said nothing else in response.

Once again they were consumed by silence. Christine was unsure where to go with it next. Not knowing what he was thinking was killing her. Carefully, she reached forward to grasp Erik's hand in her own. His fingers were cold under her own, and she could feel him tense under her touch. "Erik…please, say something. Anything."

Erik sighed. He still would not look at her. Had he not been so exhausted, worn out from what felt like years of lament, anguish and violent temper rages, he knew that this "reunion" would have ended in disaster. But now, he hardly had the strength to raise his voice. "What do you want me to say, Christine? You already said why you came back. So now you know I'm alive, if you can even call my miserable existence that. Now you can be rid of your guilt, and return to your lover."

Christine shook her head, no longer able to restrain the tears that began to course down her face. "I…I can't. Raoul and I broke off the engagement." She paused. "I broke off the engagement."

Another tense pause.

"Why?"

"Because it wouldn't have been fair to him. Because…because I don't love him the way a woman should love her future husband."

"Go back to him, Christine. Don't let his nearly dying for you be in vain."

Christine winced as daggers of remorse pieced her heart, but did not allow it to deter her. "Do you want me to leave?"

"Yes."

A small sob choked from Christine's mouth before she could stop it, a soft whimper that made her feel weak and hopeless to her soul. She should have expected this. She had already worn Erik's patience to the bone with all her childish antics, her betrayals, her denial of him. She had waited her whole life for him, for her Angel of Music, and yet once he came to her, bared his soul to her, she shunned him in the worse way possible and ran to the arms of another. He was tired of putting up with her and her games, she could tell.

If she were in his place, she knew she would feel just the same.

"…alright…" she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. "I…I'll leave. But…before I go, there's one more question I have to ask. Then I'll leave."

Again…

For a few seconds, she thought he would reject her, that his silence was a form of unyielding dismissal.

"Well? What is it?"

Christine's heart gave a small leap of hope. With a shaking hand, she reached out to gently lay a clammy palm on the deformed side of his face. As expected, he tried to move away from her touch, but she kept her arm steady as she guided him to face her. His eyes were still hard, demanding that she ask her question and leave right afterwards.

"Why?" she asked. "Why did you send me away with Raoul? Why didn't you…stop me from leaving?"

"It was what you wanted, was it not? He was your choice, not I."

"No…" Christine said. "He wasn't."

That caught his attention. Erik's eyes softened dramatically, a silent plea for her to continue. Christine swallowed hard, choosing each word she spoke with accurate delicacy.

"You…you gave me a choice. Him, or you. But you didn't allow me to choose, Erik. I didn't have a chance to make my decision before you sent me away…"

"It seemed obvious to me, at the time." Erik said bitterly, his eyes averting away from hers. That was not, sure could tell, what he wanted to hear. "Why would have chosen a monster over de Chagny?"

"That's not what I said." Christine said firmly, pulling herself up further onto the bed so she was more directly in his line of vision. "You're twisting my words."

"Then please, my dear, continue."

"Erik…" she began, once again reaching up to touch him, but now only to have him grip her wrist tightly in his hand, his hold unyielding. Was she still hurting him that much? "Do you think that I kissed you…as a bribe? As a way to save Raoul? Do you really think I would be that heartless to deliberately wound you that deeply? Erik…Erik, there was no lie in my words that night. Or in my kiss. You were not…are not alone, because I wasn't going to let you be alone, and I had to prove that to you in the only way I knew how." Something warm dripped onto Christine's hand; tears ran down Erik's face, and yet he still refused to look at her. He was still fighting her words, still not allowing himself to believe the possibility that her words might have, could have been true.

"Why?" Christine asked again, her heart twisting painfully in her chest. "Why did you send me away?"

It took another couple of long, drawn out minutes for Erik to compose himself enough to speak again. "Christine…" he began, uncertain. "What…what you did for me that night…that one moment…was more I could have ever asked from you. You gave me a taste of humanity, allowed me to forget, in almost forty years, of what I am… You actually made me forget about my face, my fate, my anger…" Slowly, he raised her hand to the normal side of his face, nuzzling gently against her palm, his eyes closed even though tears still continue to slip from beneath. "…and when the moment was over, I wanted to remember you, always, as I did then," He opened his eyes then, looking at her with the same expression when he confessed his love to her…before she left him. "as if you truly loved me…and only me. That that one moment, as short as it was, your heart belonged to me and no other.

"But I realized, that even if you had chosen to stay on your own will…I would never experience that again. You would never kiss me like that again…because you would have been unhappy here. I knew then that I couldn't keep you locked up down here, away from the rest of the world, away from the sun… That, eventually, all that would have been left of you was an empty shell, like a flower kept hidden from the sunlight, to wither away and die due to my own selfishness. I…I couldn't do that to you, Christine. I knew I would loose you either way, but if I knew that you were happy…then that would have been all that mattered."

There. He had said it. He had answered her question with painful truth. The memory of finally believing that someone might have actually loved him, that the one person he held dear to him saw him as a man and not a monster was unbearable, and he could feel his heart dying as that one small flame of hope began to go out…

All logical thought process stopped there, and all the breath was knocked from Erik's lungs as Christine careened into him, her arms flying in a vice-like grip around his neck as they were both sent sprawling flat against the bed. Erik's eyes flew open in shock. Christine was clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth, her hot tears soaking through his thin shirt.

"Christine…?"

"You…are…so…stupid!" Christine gasped in between sobs. Needless to say, her words caught Erik more off guard than her crashing embrace. "Why do you have to be so damn wonderful?"

Hell had definitely frozen over. In all the years he had watched her, Erik had never heard Christine swear. He had even began to think that she didn't even think of such words. It was as if an entirely different woman had taken her place. Suddenly, Christine thrust herself up onto her arms so she was looking down at him, her thick locks falling over her face.

"How could you?" she demanded. "How can you forgive me for everything I've done to you? And how dare you assume you know what makes me happy! You know nothing!"

"Christine!" Erik's voice was firm from shock rather than strife, but it was enough to stop her meaningless babbling, if not for a moment. Erik pushed himself up onto his elbows, leaning against the elaborately carved headboard of the bed and pulled Christine towards him. Her rage had dissolved as quickly as it came, leaving the girl crying and exhausted in its wake. Christine slumped gratefully slumped against him, taking comfort in the heat and presence of his body so close to hers. Although still confused, Erik stroked Christine's tightly curled hair, hoping to sooth her. "Shh…" he soothed against her ear. "It's all right, Christine. Please calm down. Tell me what's wrong."

Eventually, Christine's sobs resided, but her death hold on Erik's shirt did not slacken. Had she held him any tighter, he was certain the fabric would have torn under her fingers. "He didn't see me."

Erik blinked, his confusion reaching a whole new level. This night was doing wonders on his senses, that was for sure. "Who didn't see you, Christine?"

"Him. Raoul. He didn't see me."

Erik sighed. "Dearest, he never you let you out of his sight."

"That's not what I meant." Christine said, shaking her head against his shoulder. "You were there, during the rehearsals for HannibalIt was just after Mousiers Firman and Andre introduced him as their new patron. He…walked right past me. He didn't even take a second glance. He did not see me…until I was on stage. That night. He only noticed me when I was a trophy…not when I was just another chorus girl. It…bothered me. Ever since that night, I could not help but wonder, usually when I was trying to fall asleep…why didn't he see me when he was not more than a foot away from me? Then, I began to wonder… We had been such close friends when my father was still alive. Why didn't he try to find me after I was taken away? I thought that maybe his family forbid it, but I also knew Raoul was too stubborn to listen to them. He could have asked… He could have tried to find me. And if he did somehow know I was at the Opera Populaire, then why didn't he ask for me while he was there? And when he did finally see me again… He didn't see me as I am now. He only saw his Little Lotte. Raoul…poor Raoul…he was in love with a memory. He loved his Little Lotte, not Christine Daaé as I am today.

"But you…Erik…" Christine lifted herself up again to look at him in the eyes, and Erik was surprised to see in her own a level of maturity and confidence that he had never seen her possess before. This was not Christine the girl whom he had taken under his wing so long ago…this was Christine as a young woman who had thrown away the crutches of youth and gained a whole new independence that had seemed completely beyond her years. "You saw me when no one else could, when everyone else refused to see. To them, I was nothing more than just another ballerina, just another chorus girl…and I believed that they were right. But, you…I still don't know why, but you looked after me. You protected me…you comforted me in the darkest time of my life. Your voice, your music…you truly were my Angel of Music. Had it not been for you…I would have never known the potential of my own voice. Without you, I would have never experienced the stage as few dare to dream…I would have been forever condemned to live the life as 'another chorus girl'. And Raoul would have never seen me.

"I never told you…" she began again, sitting back but holding Erik's trembling fingers close to her lips. "I never told you that I was only truly happy here…when I was with you. God, Erik, I lived for your lessons… They were the only thing that guided me through the long days of rehearsals, of the isolation from the other chorus girls, through all of Carlotta's unfair treatment of us. Then, when I started coming to stay with you…the singing lessons, playing chess in front of the fire, listening to you read to me until I fell asleep… Those were some of the best days of my life, after my father died. Because once I was with you, even before I ever saw you, I knew that everything was alright. I knew I was safe, because I was with my Angel of Music. It was all…so perfect then." Slowly, she lifted Erik's hand to her lips, placing soft kisses on his fingers as her tears once again fell on the cold digits. "I would give anything to go back to that, knowing what I know now. Sometimes, I wish…I wish I had never sung in Hannibal. Then maybe things would have stayed the same…"

She was gently cut off by the incredible sensation of Erik's lips on her forehead, easing her into silence. "Christine…please, don't regret, or deny, that you ever loved the Vicomte. I would never ask you to regret your days with him. I know…I know I frightened you with my jealously. If either one of us could undo the past, it should be me…there is so much I wish I could take back. Please…don't deny that you were happy with him in those months you were with him, before you came back the night of the Masquerade. But never regret that you loved him." He paused, running his thumb softly against Christine's lips. "If…if you had never come back, I would have never regretted loving you, no matter how much it hurt."

Christine sighed, pressing her lips further against his hand. "I was…content…for those few months, yes. But I was still without your music, without you…and I missed it all terribly. But when I left last week…I didn't realize how much I would be leaving behind. I left the music in the life…I left my Angel…but, most of all, I left half of my soul behind." Erik's hand stiffened, and she heard him swallow thickly. Nervously, Christine leant forward so her lips were mere inches from Erik's. "I came back, Erik…for the other half of my soul."

She kissed him then, with none of the cautious hesitation from before. There were no more questions, no more doubts. Now it was time to accept…and believe. Truly believe that what they had was real, that it was theirs, that they could both never live without it ever again.

Christine shivered as Erik's hands buried themselves in her hair, pulling her forward and on top of him as he leaned back on the bed once again, allowing her to mold to him as neatly as if she were made to fit against him. With a surge of boldness she was not aware she had, Christine swept her tongue into his mouth, tasting him, teasing him, pulling a moan from his throat that was as beautiful as any note he ever sang to her.

"Erik…my angel…" she murmured against his mouth, he lips never leaving his. "I love you… God only knows how much I love you…"

"Christine…" Erik's voice was broken with emotion as he pulled her into a crushing embrace to him, his tears falling silently into her hair. "I cannot express in words, nor in actions, how much I love you. It would take a lifetime to be able to begin to show you. But…if you prefer…I would be more than willing than to spend the rest of my life to prove to you just that…"

And Christine smiled, for the first time in what felt like ages…

…a week. It had only been a week…

But it was a week far too long.

Still smiling, she leaned her forehead against Erik's, one hand coming up to absently play with the unruly locks that fell over his eyes. Lord, he had such beautiful eyes…

"I think…I would like that."

He kissed her then. Twice already she had kissed him…but this was the first time in his life he had ever kissed anyone. Giving a kiss, he realized, was just as exhilarating as receiving one.

When they broke apart, no words were spoken for a very long time. There were no words to be said; only a long, awkward silence that seemed to be a void for the spoken language.

They both knew why. They were both standing at the edge of a path to a new life, a new chance at living. The road was going to be long, it was going to be dangerous, but they both knew that as long as they were with each other, hand-in-hand, then everything was going to be alright.

"So…" Christine asked carefully, tracing patterns on the visible part of Erik's chest with one shy finger. "Where do we go from here?"

Erik shook his head, although it was not in remorse, but rather a silent wonder. He curled a finger under her chin, making her look up at him. "I don't know. But as long as you're with me…and I'm with you…then I know we can face anything the fates may deal out to us. We just have to take it one step at a time."

Christine lay back against him with a content sigh, nestling her head against his shoulder as her fingers curled against his neck. "Erik…sing to me…It's been so long since you last sung to me…"

Erik could not help but chuckle. "Christine, it's only been a week."

She shook her head sleepily against him. "A week too long. Please, sing to me, my Angel of Music…"

Erik could not help but smile weakly against her hair. Here he had thought he would never sing again, that his music had left him the same night she had…

But now she was back with him. That changed everything.

"Say you'll share with me, one love, one…"

He was cut off with surprise by Christine's hand over his mouth. "No…not that one. Sing the song you sang to me the night you brought me here…the one you only ever sang for me…"

Tears stung Erik's eyes as he held her closer, wanting to draw her into his very soul. Very softly, he sang to her…

"Floating, falling, sweet intoxication,

Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation…

Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in,

To the power of the music that I write…

The power of the music of the night…"

Together, they would start down the road of the unknown, leaving the tortured past behind them…

Towards a brighter future.

"You alone can make my song take flight…

You came back to me…

My music of the night…"

Fin

Author's Note: Whew! It's finally done! So, what did you all think? Did I deliver to your expectations? Or did I crush them like a bug under my heel?

I very rarely finish fanfics. If you check my profile, you'll notice that I only have one multi-chaptered fic that's complete. Most are just left hanging with a lot of angry reviewers banging at my door, complete with torches and pitchforks in hand. So, the fact that I was able to finish this is a huge plus for me. Then again, it ended up being so short that it would have been pathetic if I didn't finish it. And it's not that I didn't want to finish this. Like I said before, romance scenes are some of the hardest for me to write, and I'm exceptionally paranoid about getting them to turn out just right.

…writing a proper sex scene would take me months, lol

Anywho, I hope you enjoyed it, regardless of whether you were one hundred percent happy with it or not. As I stated before, the whole point behind this story is basically my reasons to why Erik and Christine are made for each other. The whole part with Raoul not seeing Christine? Yeah, that's probably my biggest piece of evidence. When you're really close to someone in your childhood, you're more than likely going to recognize them any other time in life, even if it's a passing inkling of déjà vu. The fact that Raoul never even cast Christine a second glance was never something that really sat well with me, but maybe Raoul fans can educate me otherwise.

…but please, don'tdo it in the review box. If you want to discuss it with me in a civilized manner, then feel free to talk to me through AIM.

But yeah…I hope to get more written for "Our December". That's a real fanfic compared to this, with a more fleshed out plot and all that jazz.

On a last note; thank you to all have reviewed. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. Seriously.

As for an epilogue? Hmm…

We'll see. But I'm not making any promises.

Cheers,

O.D