A/N: I'm back! I just saw the show again yesterday for my birthday (though my birthday was on Monday, we couldn't go to New York on a school day) and I just had to write more, just a little more. Look phor more Phantom phics phrom me!

Epilogue

(from the P.O.V. of Raoul)

One year ago I swore I'd never set eyes on this place again. Yet here I am, making my way down the deserted streets. I sat again in my old box at the opera house. I saw Christine perform, but did not stay around to talk with her. I couldn't bear to. I saw him – Erik – sitting in Box 5 as usual. Aminta sat with him, smiling, radiant. The one aspect of mine and Christine's life that I thought he could never touch, and it turns out that she was his all along. But she's so happy. I cannot deny it anymore; they're both so happy. That's all I ever wanted for them. I had just hoped it would be with me.

Aminta saw me tonight. During the entr'acte, she looked over as she rose from her seat to clear her dress and our eyes met. She was startled to say the least, but smiled at me. I don't know for certain if Erik noticed or not, but he gave no outward sign that I saw. I saw that Aminta was wearing his ring, the gold one with the black stone. I felt an odd twinge of guilt that I had never given her mine, but I ignored it. I felt a similar twinge when Christine smiled up at Box 5 at the end the way she used to smile up at me. I don't know if I could have stood it if she had looked up at me, not after the way we parted. I hope that she forgave me.

I followed them afterwards. I waited outside the theatre in the shadows for them to come out and followed. They were talking together, and Aminta was laughing. She looks different than I remember her. Her hair's taken on a dark golden sheen, and her skin's rosier than it was. She's still pale, but not ghostly anymore. She looks…alive is the word I think. Christine too looks different, her skin with a radiance I don't remember ever seeing, her eyes with a light all their own. Even Erik looks more alive now, less like the ghostly specter who haunted the Opera Populaire and more like a living man. I can now admit to myself what I refused to believe all these years: Erik truly loves Christine. He always did. And he loves Aminta as well, that much is obvious. A chill wind began to blow and as usual Aminta was without a scarf or shawl. Erik wrapped his cloak around her and held her close to him. Christine smiled at this. I couldn't help smiling as well.

They live in a great mansion tucked away in the woods, wrapped in shadows and secrets. I wanted to go up and knock at their door, but I just couldn't bring myself to it. Instead, like a peeping Tom, I watched through the windows as they moved through the house. I watched them have dinner together, Erik unmasked, which startled me at first. I'm sure that this is something Aminta insisted on; it's the sort of thing she'd do. But anything's possible. Perhaps it was Christine's suggestion.

I lost sight of them for a while after they left the dining-room, but found them again in a library-cum-music room. Christine looked like an angel in her white dressing-gown, Aminta was barefoot and wore a red silk nightgown that came down to her ankles, and Erik had removed his jacket and sat comfortably in a loose white shirt and black pants. He and Christine sat in expensive-looking armchairs while Aminta sat at Erik's feet, leaning against him as he read aloud from a book of Tennyson poems. They were the picture of the perfect family.

By and by Aminta looked up at Erik and spoke. I couldn't hear what she said, but Erik laughed and looked at Christine, who smiled and nodded, agreeing with whatever Aminta had said. Feigning defeat, Erik rose and seated himself at a piano nearby. Aminta took his vacated seat, curling up like a cat as she always had. She closed her eyes, smiling as she and Christine listened to Erik play. He occasionally glanced back and smiled at them. Presently he played a song that made Aminta open her eyes and raise her head curiously. Smiling, she rose and walked over to him and began to sing. I wish I could have heard them. When the song ended, she kissed Erik – on the malformed side of his face, no less – and returned to her chair. It was then that she saw me at the window watching. She was startled but said nothing about it. I was afraid she had when I saw her exchange words with Christine, but Christine only nodded and turned back to Erik. Aminta vanished from sight for a while, then startled me by apparently appearing behind me.

"Boo."

I jumped slightly and turned. She stood behind me, still barefoot but now with a shawl wrapped around her. She smiled.

"What brings you here?" she asked, not unkindly.

"I just had to see you again," I said. "You and Christine." She smiled and nodded.

"I understand, I suppose. But you could've just come to the door."

I shook my head. "No. I couldn't do that. Not after the things I said, the things I did."

"It's all in the past," said Aminta. "True, there were times when I could've killed you, but I'd have felt badly about it later." I laughed. I couldn't help it, I laughed. Aminta had a way of making death and murder seem funny. She smiled again, apparently satisfied.

"Aminta, I'm truly sorry," I said. "For everything. I still can't believe how jealous and possessive I was. Maybe if I hadn't been I wouldn't have lost you and your mother."

"She still loves you, in a way," said Aminta. "But I think that the love you shared was more a friend's love, a brother and sister's love, not a man and a woman's love."

"There's a difference?" I asked sullenly, before I could stop myself. I was immediately ashamed. It was this very attitude that had lost me my family in the first place! How could I still be acting like this now? But Aminta seemed to understand somehow.

"Yes there is," she said gently. "You understand."

"Yes." I sighed. I didn't want to be here talking with her, and yet I didn't know where else I would rather be. As though sensing my conflict, Aminta moved forwards and gave me a light, gentle hug. I hugged her back in the same casual manner.

"You're welcome here at any time," she said kindly. "But I'm afraid I must go. It's late, and Mother will come looking for me if I'm gone too long."

"You won't tell them I was here, will you?" I asked fretfully.

"Only if you will come back," she replied. I was startled. "And I mean come to the door and come inside like a proper guest." Seeing my expression, her own softened and she added, "Please. I know it would make Mother and Father happy." It hurt me slightly to hear her call Erik 'Father', but she had every right to. He was her father. I sighed and smiled.

"All right," I said. "I'll come back."

"Thank you," said Aminta, smiling. She glanced back at the house. "I have to go. Until next we meet, good-night."

"Good-night Aminta," I said softly, watching her go back inside. I lingered a little longer there in the shadows, watching her reenter the sitting-room with Christine and Erik. Both looked up when she came in, apparently asking where she was. She shrugged and said something about the night sky. At least, that's what it looked like from the gestures she made. She curled up in her chair again, asking Erik to keep playing. He smiled and spoke. Aminta nodded and Erik resumed playing. Aminta again closed her eyes to listen, and apparently fell asleep because Christine looked up at her after a while, smiled, and went over and said something to Erik, who looked over at Aminta and smiled. He rose and went over to her, picking her up, cradling her in his arms like a little child. He kissed her cheek, then he and Christine kissed, apparently saying good-night. Erik carried Aminta out of the room and Christine put out the lights. When they were all gone, I left. Tomorrow I will go back like I promised Aminta. I do not know what will happen, how I will be received, but at least I will finally have kept one of my promises.

A wise young lady once said, "Love can be neither bought nor created. It can only be found." Now I finally understand what she meant, what she tried so hard to teach me. Lesson truly learnt, but far too late, I can only hope that I never forgot. So good-night, Amy! Tell Christine that I always loved her in some way. Wait up for me tomorrow, I'll be there. I promise I'll be there this time. I promise I will always be there.