The Phantom of the Opera

Part Five

Christine slept uneasily, awaking more than once. On one occasion she went to the door and carefully tried it, but it was locked from the outside.

When Madame Giry came to her the next morning she was sitting at the desk, staring down at the mask in her hands.

"Christine, it is time for rehearsals," she said gently.

Christine didn't look up but spoke in a quiet voice. "Tell me I did the right thing, Madame… please, tell me it was right."

"You saved his life, Christine," Madame Giry said, touching her shoulder gently.

"Then why do I feel like this? Why do I feel so… hollow?" Christine asked. Madame Giry did not answer. She could not.

Christine sniffed hard and said in a voice that threatened to crack at any moment, "My god… at this time yesterday I was traveling back to the Opera House. And all I could think of was him. What would it be like when we were finally together again? I didn't know that at this time we would be parted forever…"

Her voice caught and she took a shuddering breath. She composed herself and got to her feet.

"Rehearsals…" she said weakly.

"Christine, the Viscount is going to take you away tomorrow night. After the performance," Madame Giry warned her. Christine looked at her and closed her eyes. For some time she didn't move. Soon she opened her eyes.

"I should go to rehearsal."

Even Carlotta acted nicely towards Christine that day. She waited for her part to come, sitting in the front row of the seats. Meg tried to talk to her, but Christine found she didn't have the words to start a conversation, so Meg left her in peace.

"Miss Daae? It's time for your scene," Monsieur Reyer said hesitantly. Everyone fell silent as Christine took her place on the edge of the stage. Her eyes lifted to Box 5 but it was empty. Piangi began to sing All I Ask Of You. He had a slightly guilty look on his face, as though he felt bad about singing it.

Christine rose to her feet and softly began to sing her own part.

Say you'll love me every waking moment

Turn my head with talk of summertime

Say you'll need me with you now and always

Promise me that all you say is true

That's all I ask of you

Piangi sang in return and everyone watched as she played out the part. There was none of the joy or feeling that had existed only last night, although it seemed much longer ago. Monsieur Reyer tapped his baton.

"Miss Daae, perhaps you should try a solo song, to warm your voice." She didn't object and stood at the front of the stage. Monsieur Reyer handed her a piece of music and she read it. She nodded to him and the music began to play. Christine began to sing, holding herself tall. There was a sadness to her voice that only made it sound even sweeter than usual, a wonderful purity that caused everyone to stop and look at her in amazement.

Think of me

Think of me fondly

When we've said goodbye

Imagine me

Once in a while please

Promise me you'll try

When you find

That once again you long

To take your heart back and be free

If you ever find a moment

Spare a thought for me

They were interrupted by a slow clapping from the back of the hall. Everyone turned and saw the Viscount, watching with a smile on his face. Christine repressed the shiver that threatened to go down her spine. He walked slowly down the center aisle towards the stage. Monsieur Reyer looked at him frankly.

"Viscount de Martinez, we are rehearsing."

"I shall not keep you any longer, then," he said smugly, sitting down in the front row. Christine ripped her eyes away from him and back down onto the music. Monsieur Reyer looked at her.

"From the beginning?"

"Yes, Monsieur," she said quietly. The Viscount was watching her closely but she kept her eyes on Box 5, singing as if someone was standing there, watching her.

At lunchtime everyone split off into separate groups. Christine bent to tie her lace and found herself looking at a pair of trouser legs. She didn't look up but tied her lace and then stood. William smiled and kissed her hand.

"Christine. You sang beautifully."

She did not reply, but held his gaze silently. He sighed. "Don't give me that look, my dear. He made his choice and so did you. And you made the right one."

Christine turned to walk away but he seized her wrist and pulled her back around.

"Don't walk away from me, Christine," he said dangerously. "You belong to me now. Don't forget that."

"For how long? How long until you grow bored of me?" she asked sharply.

He looked at her angrily. "Do not think for one minute that I am ever letting you go, Christine. I do not lose, especially not to pathetic, deformed excuses for men. Tomorrow night I am taking you to my estate outside of Pairs and you are never returning to this Opera house again. Do you understand?" he hissed. Neither of them seemed aware of the stares of members of the cast.

Christine looked at him and said, "You have taken away everything that I ever cared about. I don't care what you do to me anymore."

And with that she stepped away. But the Viscount called, "What about this? Does this mean nothing?" She turned and, to her horror, saw the white porcelain mask clasped in his hand. She stepped towards him.

"Where did you get that!" she cried. He smirked.

"Well, if it means nothing you won't care if it breaks."

"No! Please, give it to me!" she exclaimed, stepping back to him.

William looked down at her and anger flooded his face.

"You are mine," he spat. Christine reached for the mask but he threw it and she screamed. It hit the stage and shattered into a thousand pieces with a sickening crack. She cried aloud and darted forward, trying to gather the scraps, but William pulled her back, throwing her down. She stared up at him, her eyes wide and filled with tears.

"You… you broke it…" she choked. William bent down and pulled her to her feet. She stared at the porcelain scraps and picked one up. He knocked it from her hand and shouted at a ballet girl.

"Clear it away. Make sure that every piece is thrown away."

He looked down at her.

"Now you are truly mine. There is nothing of him left in this Opera House, and soon you will be gone from here forever." Christine couldn't speak. William bent down and kissed her briefly. She didn't move or respond as he walked away. Madame Giry approached Christine and touched her hand.

"Child… crying does not show weakness."

"No… no more tears. He is gone. Everything that I ever had of him is gone…" Christine whispered. Madame Giry shook her head sadly and walked away.

Christine took a deep breath and turned away. But the ballet girl who had been clearing the shattered mask ran up to her and pressed something to her hand before retuning to the stage. Christine looked down and found the largest piece of the mask that was still whole in her hand. She looked at the ballet girl and smiled weakly.

"Thank you," she whispered. The ballet girl grinned impishly before scampering off. Christine looked down at the piece. It was a piece of the right cheek, just below the eye, the edge curving up to go onto the nose. Christine tucked it into her pocket before going back to her room.

The performance that night went well enough. Christine saw the Viscount watching from Box 5 and felt a rush of anger that he dared to sit in Erik's place. Afterwards, Christine went to her room. To her relief William did not come to her that night. She sat awake for several hours to make sure before allowing herself the luxury of sleep. But even sleep was ruined. All she saw were images of Erik, the shattered mask, and the Viscount.

Madame Giry woke her early the next morning.

"Rehearsals this morning. Then you should spend the afternoon packing your things," she said quietly.

Christine dressed and went to the theatre. Few people were there and Monsieur Reyer said, "Miss Daae, I have been told to excuse you from rehearsals so you may… pack your things."

Christine looked at him and said, "Who told you to… never mind. Thank you, Monsieur." She turned away and felt the press of the mask piece in her pocket.

When Christine entered the lobby of the Opera House she met Firmin and André. They looked at her awkwardly.

"Miss Daae…" Firmin began, but she shook her head.

"Thank you for all that you have done, Monsieurs. You have helped me greatly in my time here."

"We are… sorry that you are to leave us."

"I'm sorry to be leaving," she said quietly before stepping past to go to her room. Firmin and André looked at each other, both with looks of fury and pity.

After her final performance and Christine returned to her room, it was to find lots of people from the cast waiting for her.

"We wanted to say goodbye," Meg explained.

After hugs, kisses, and goodbyes, Christine went into her room. Meg and Madame Giry went with her. Her things had already been taken apart from a small traveling bag. Christine picked it up and then went to the desk.

"It has already been emptied," Meg began, but she gave a gasp of surprise as Christine took the bottom out of the drawer. A small locket was inside.

"A gift from my father before he died," she explained, placing it around her neck.

Madame Giry stepped forward and said, "He is waiting."

Christine looked around the room one more time and her eyes came to rest on a bouquet of flowers. A thought hit her like lightning and she picked them up. Madame Giry looked at her in confusion. Christine smiled briefly. The ballet mistress gave a rare smile and hugged her tightly.

"Good luck, my child. You are welcome to return here at any time."

"I doubt very much that I shall be returning," Christine said, and turned to Meg.

"Goodbye Meg. I shall try to write."

"I will miss you so much, Christine," Meg admitted, hugging her. Christine smiled and took the bag and flowers as the door opened. William stood in the doorway and smiled at her.

"Come. The carriage is waiting. I have ordered my finest horses for our journey so we shall be there quickly."

His eyes fell on the flowers and he arched an eyebrow.

"Who are they from?"

"No one. I have a small request before we return to your estate."

"And what might that be?" William asked, torn between amusement and impatience. Christine smiled.

"I wish to visit my father's grave."

The journey to the cemetery seemed to last forever. Christine looked out of the window, trying to calm her nerves. Horrible thoughts continually flashed through her mind. The worst was… what if he's not there?

What would she do if that was the case? She would have to return to the Viscount's estate and who knew when she would be allowed to visit her father's grave again. She knew that if she ever found Erik again it would be there. She didn't know how she knew. She just did.

She absently pulled a petal from one of the flowers lying in her lap and began to shred it with her fingernails.

William noticed and asked, "Why so nervous?" She looked at him sharply and then shook her head.

"I am just… sad to leave the opera house. That is all." She turned to look out of the window again.

William watched her carefully. He couldn't help but feel a certain amount of satisfaction. It seemed that he had finally broken her. She would not cause trouble now, not with that thing gone from her life and the Opera Populaire behind her. Now she was truly his. A smug smirk spread across his face as he watched her.

Christine chewed her lip and sank back in her seat. A sigh escaped her and she closed her eyes for a moment.

Then she said quietly, "I wish you wouldn't do that."

"And what is that, my dear?" he asked, slightly amused.

"Look at me like that," she replied, opening her eyes to look at him. He smiled slightly.

"In what way do I look at you?"

"As if I'm a prize that you've just won. Something that you can take back to your estate and display to everyone," she answered quietly.

William considered her, that half-smile still on his face. "But I did win you, Christine. You forget that. You are my prize. I had a situation where things could have gone either way, and things turned out in my favor."

"I am aware of what happened, Viscount. I know what my position is as well as you do. So there is no need to look at me like that," Christine said plainly, turning her gaze to look out of the window again.

William couldn't help but chuckle lightly. So there was still a little spirit there. She knew that she was beaten but there was still a spark within her. Interesting…

The carriage drew to a halt outside the cemetery and Christine climbed out. To her dismay, the Viscount also climbed out.

"There is no need to come. There is only one exit to the cemetery and you are here," she told him.

"No matter. It is no trouble to accompany you," he said, offering his arm. Christine pretended not to notice, turning and clutching the flowers to her chest.

There was a slight mist in the graveyard. The sun was setting, sending beautiful golden rays across the gravestones and sculpted angels. Christine walked quietly through the graves, the Viscount by her side the whole time. They turned onto a wide aisle, leading to a stone tomb. The name Daae was carved above the door. Christine turned to William.

"If you could give me a moment…?"

"Of course," he said graciously. She continued down towards the grave alone. Her footsteps made no sound as the mist wove around her skirts. She kept her eyes on the tomb, feeling her heart sink with every step.

He was not here.

She arrived at the steps leading up to the tomb and stopped outside of the door. Something caught her eye and she stared at it. The candle above the doorway had been lit. Her heart began to race. She knelt to place the flowers in the marble vase by the door and looked around in the pretence of arranging the flowers.

No one. She went to the steps and knelt, clasping her hands together and bowing her head in fake prayer. The whole time her eyes darted around, searching for anything that might give her a sign as to where he was. If he was even here.

After a few minutes she heard footsteps and the Viscount rested his hand on her shoulder.

"It is getting dark. We should leave."

"Just another moment…" she pleaded. He nodded and stood behind her as she bowed her head once more.

"Please…" she whispered desperately. "Please come to me…"

"What was that?" William frowned, bending to hear. She got to her feet and looked up at the tomb.

"He's gone..." she murmured. William looked confused and looked towards the tomb.

"Your father has been dead for many years, Christine."

Christine turned away, a lump in her throat. William took her arm. "It will take us some time to reach the estate. We must leave now."

He started to lead her away and the whole time she looked back over her shoulder. And then she froze. William looked at her irritably for a moment and then a look of fury crossed his face as he heard what she had. Faint strains of a violin were coming from somewhere. Christine turned back to the tomb, her heart in her throat. William kept his iron grip on her arm.

"Who is there?" he shouted. Christine stepped back towards the tomb, trembling in fear and excitement. William pulled her back and started to walk towards the exit.

"Christine… Christine…" a voice called through the semi-darkness.

"Erik!" she cried, joy flooding her.

William drew his sword, pulling Christine to him so tightly she couldn't move.

"Show yourself!" he roared as Christine struggled uselessly.

"Release her, Viscount…" said the disembodied voice.

"Never! She is mine, Phantom!" William shouted. And then he gasped, dropping his sword into the mist.

Christine fell away and gasped as she saw the Viscount drop to his knees. Around his neck was a lasso, being tightened by Erik. He had found another white mask, and he was glaring down at the man in front of him.

"Erik…" she whispered. But he didn't reply. He tugged at the rope again and William clutched at the rope, his face turning red.

"Order your fine horses now, Viscount… take what is mine now…" Erik spat at the pathetic figure in front of him. Christine stared at him.

"Erik, stop! Please, don't kill him…"

Erik looked up at her. She looked at him pleadingly. "Please don't. Don't put something as disgusting as that on your conscience. Let him go. Don't let his blood stain your hands."

"But Christine… he was going to…"

"I know. But it doesn't matter. We're together now," Christine whispered, feeling a tear run down her cheek. She brushed it away furiously. Erik looked down at the wriggling shape in front of him and then let go of the end of the rope. The Viscount fell forward, gasping for breath, and Erik ran to Christine.

He swept her up in his arms, holding her so tightly she thought he would never let go.

"Let's go, Erik. Please let's go," she whispered.

"Yes. We'll go," he replied. They looked down at William. He was breathing harshly, trying to remove the rope from around his neck.

Erik spat down at him, "Next time Christine may not be here to save your worthless life. Stay away from us, Viscount, or next time my rope will not be loosened."

And with that he and Christine walked to a horse that Erik had brought with him. He helped her up and then climbed on behind her. With one final look of disgust at the Viscount, Erik whipped the reins, forcing the horse forward. Christine laid her head against Erik's chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart.

In the graveyard, William de Martinez got to his feet and glared after the retreating couple.

"This is not the end, Phantom!" he shouted into the still twilight air. "This is not the end!"

A/N: Sorry for the shorter chapter, but the next one will be much better. Promise. Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews! Oh, and the reason I've already written twelve chapters? I never actually wrote this intending to post it. It was my first try at a POTO fic and I was just getting the feel of the characters. I gave up and started Cold Cold Heart instead. And I'm glad I did! But this one kept calling to me and I ended up working on it and figured, hey, why not post it and what people think? But because I was so unsure, I asked for a Beta - enter La Foamy to whom I am eternally grateful.

Love you guys. Please keep reviewing! Oh, and don't worry, this won't go up to an R rating. I'm really just not comfortable writing that. In fact, I was a bit nervous with what I put so far! Lol. Anyway, please review. Lotsa luv, Katie