When Christine awoke, it was to the haunting sound of an organ echoing in the musky air. Slowly she allowed her deep brown eyes to flutter open, and for a few moments she was free of all memories, of all distractions. She was simply Christine, adrift in a soft sea of an enticing melody. With a blink, her dazed state of relaxation snapped. What was going on? She was lying down against impossibly soft fabric, a material she faintly remembered from a time long past. She brushed her hands across the deep red sheets as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. Recognition and understanding sharpened in her clearing mind, and Christine was able to recall her situation.

Somewhere during the descent into darkness, Christine had been overwhelmed with the flurry of emotions uprooted by the impossible events she had taken part of. Coupled with the effort of keeping up with her nearly panicked Angel, her corset had become unbearably tight. Christine had collapsed to the hard stone floor below with a cry, and her world had faded into darkness. She rubbed at her forearms delicately, noting the soreness there from her fall. Her Angel- was his name Erik? – must have retrieved her heaped form and carried her for the remainder of his journey. A knot rose to her throat as she lifted the black lace veil of the swan bed she had been placed in. Erik must have been just as overwhelmed as she, and yet he had taken the effort to transport her safely.

The haunting tones she heard tugged at her soul, edging her forward. Erik was venting his confusion, clearly pouring his soul into the notes he now played. Her heart sprang to life as Christine recalled precisely what had transpired on the stage in the moments before her world dissolved. She had betrayed Raoul, and indeed, broken his heart. A wrenching pain of regret clenched her stomach tightly, and she could only close her eyes in a feeble attempt to block out the common sense ringing in her mind. What was to happen now? She had most likely removed Raoul from her life altogether. Any chance at a safe, happy, wonderful existence as a Viscountess had been shattered the instant she pulled Erik to her in that mind blinding kiss.

Perhaps she should be pleased with the situation. Erik's life had remained quite intact, and she had recently realized that her soul would never be cleansed of the dark imprint he had left upon it. He was part of her eternally, which is what finally drove her to succumb to the darkness. So why was she overcome with dread and unease?

Erik had hardly noticed when Christine collapsed to the hard stone floor behind him. Some level of his psyche had ordered him to turn around, gather her into his arms, and proceed his flight from the world above. Logic and reason had evaporated; the world had spun away from him entirely. As he journeyed farther into the depths of the Opera House, he doubted if anything would surprise him anymore. What else could possibly occur?

Despite his frayed state of mind, Erik still managed to place Christine in the swan bed he had ordered for her with the utmost care. His mouth had turned to dust as he paused over her restlessly sleeping form, recalling the feel of her lips upon his. No one had ever kissed him before that moment, not even his own mother. After that instant, everything else had crossed into the fantastic realm of the impossible. Christine had stood by his side, and faced down the crowd and police that came for him. She had defended him, indeed, so had the crew of the Opera Populaire itself.

Once he had secured Christine in her bed, Erik simply sank to the floor and cradled his head in his hands. Shaking breaths wracked his shivering body as he slowly tried to purge the intensity of the past hour. All the anguish of being exposed before hundreds, all the wrath at Christine's betrayal, all the terror of being at the mercy of the world that had destroyed his soul years ago, all the passion of his contact with Christine… everything came bursting forth as he huddled against the wall in his lair.

When at last he had no more tremors within his body, Erik felt utterly spent. He retreated to his organ, desperately expressing the emotions that had not yet been released.

And thus was the state of the Phantom as Christine came upon him.

"Angel," she nearly choked as she hovered behind his hunched form.

"Angel," he echoed distantly. "You know I am not really the Angel of Music."

"No?" She fought to still the raging torrent of unease within her, desperately wishing he would look at her. For the first time, she heard him miss a note. An unpleasant sound rang in the dank air.

"Why?" The sound was almost primal as the music came to a startling halt.

"Why?" Christine could not understand what he was desperately seeking from her.

"Why!" He rose to face her in one fluid, swift motion. His unmasked face was awash with confusion, desperation, and sorrow. The severity of his mournful expression stung unbearably in Christine's heart. "Why…." He visibly deflated, the anger hissing away from him. "My mask, the kiss, defending me, following me here… why any of it?" Tears burned Christine's eyes. Didn't he realize that she was still fighting a brutal battle in her own mind to answer those questions? It certainly made no sense.

"I'm sorry," it was the only safe answer she could think to give. She did not trust herself to speak of her emotions any deeper than that, nor could she imagine telling the unstable man before her that she had been driven to the brink of madness upon realizing how deeply he affected her. By the flash of coldness that crossed into his hazy blue eyes, Christine feared she had given the wrong statement.

"Sorry." He said the word heavily. What was she apologizing for? Removing his mask? Or leading him on? For making a decision she now regretted? He turned away from her, rubbing at his temples with one hand. What could be done? Perhaps she was even apologizing for placing herself at his mercy.

"I was a fool," Christine continued behind him, speaking in an unsteady voice. He braced himself for whatever admission would come from her lips. He no longer possessed the strength to react with anger; indeed, all he could do was listen. "Part of me knew you were on the roof that night, and I acted upon it. I wanted you to hurt, I wanted you to feel as unstable as I did when I saw Joseph Buquet hanging from the rafters. I had felt utterly betrayed, as though all of my childhood fantasies of my gentle, heavenly Angel of Music had been torn away from me. I was bitterly angry when I realized that not only were you just a man, you were a murderer. So I threw coal into the fire, knowingly turning to Raoul, knowing that I did not love him as I claimed to. I wanted you to see, wanted you to feel jealousy and pain. I wanted to return the blow of loosing my fanciful dreams of magic. It was childish and horrid of me, and so impossibly selfish. I twisted Raoul's heart while knowingly wounding yours." There. The truth had at last surfaced, and she would face whatever blow was to come next.

"You let him walk away from you." Erik's voice betrayed no emotion, none of the thoughts streaking through his battered mind. "And you came with me. Why?"

"You possess me." She did not dare venture father than that, too terrified to fully journey out on the fragile wire she found herself upon. "Even if I were to leave this place forever, part of me would remain in your control. Even if I were to be with Raoul, it would be your embrace his would shadow." She watched his broad back grow straight and stiffen significantly.

"What do you want here, Christine?" His mind was reeling, his heart again springing to painful life within his chest. She released a shivering breath at his question. It was the one she had been praying he not ask, for she had no answer. At her silence, he turned to face her. "Please tell me this is not another foolish game you are playing." Still he could not face her, could not see her dark eyes flash with anger and stinging hurt.

"The games we've played till now are at an end," she replied in a low voice. "Your own words, and they ring quite true. I am being sincere!" The tone in her voice was desperate enough to turn him towards her once more. Hope dangled dangerously before him, and he did not know if he had the strength to retrieve it once more. The recollection of their duet on stage blazed through his mind. She had acted the part he always dreamed she would, fully convincing him that she had allowed herself to fall prey to his darkness. His heart had soared with her within his grasp, offering herself completely to him. Her performance had been so convincing that his fragile heart completely exposed itself to her. In a single action, she had savagely destroyed it, tearing his mask from his face before all. She knew what that would do to him! She had seen his reaction when she alone had removed his mask in the isolation in his lair… she must have been fully aware of the effect it would have upon him to be revealed to the entire audience.

No.

He would not dare to believe her act once more. He still had a shred of humanity nestled securely in the wreckage of his soul, and he intended to protect it. His entire life had hinged upon the woman standing before him now, but he would not allow her cruelty to unravel him completely.

"I cannot do this," his voice was riddled with pain as he spoke at last. "I will no longer fall victim to your inconstant heart." The ache from her betrayal was still to raw in his heart to be mended by a kiss that could have been nothing more to her than a ploy at some selfish plan.

The breath caught in Christine's throat as her Angel of Music looked her in the eye and denied her the unspoken request that had hung between them. She no longer had a place here, in the world she had learned to grow in. He was going to ask her to leave. He did not trust her, and she could offer no defense on her behalf. She shook her head and looked towards the glittering underground lake. Anger surged within her as she mulled over his words and implications. Didn't he realize she had forsaken everything for him? That she had dismissed her childhood friend, a man she loved, just to be with him? That she loved him? And yet he would send her away, unable to believe in her. If that was his answer, then she would return to Raoul, attempt to build some semblance of a life without her fallen Angel's shadow.

But she had already extinguished any other options, hadn't she? If she didn't fight for what she could barely understand now, it would be lost to her forever. She could not fully comprehend the feelings he had ignited within her, but to think that she could live without him was simply not permissible.

"I'm not leaving." She did not ask, did not attempt to make a feeble explanation he would not accept anyway. She had nearly thrown away a vital part of her existence, but she would remedy that mistake now.

The beautiful portion of Erik's face contorted in pain and confusion. Desperately his mind tried to understand her words, her motivations. Why? What did she hope to gain? What did she want from him? Hadn't he already given her all he had to offer, only to have it thrown back at him?

Becoming painfully aware of her Angel's hesitation, Christine felt a burning panic grow inside her. If she walked out of this damp place now, she would never be welcome to return. The man who had pulled her from her unbearable loneliness would recede to the darkness he came from, even more wounded than he had been before. How could she condemn him to such a fate? How could she go on to live a terribly empty lie without him?

"Why?" The pain in his face quickly returned to anger and suspicion. She threw her head back defiantly at him as he closed the distance between them. "If you continue playing games with my heart, I am going to perish beneath the weight of it!"

His words rang throughout the darkness, spiking Christine with an almost physical pain. She clung to the vague understanding she had of what her actions could imply, of what kind of life she was now walking into. This man, this Erik, was just as elusive and out of reach as her Angel had been. She did not want the tangible space between them, she did not want to be confined by the uncertainty between them. He had lied to her for years, pretending to be something he was not, purposely playing her feelings. She had loved him long ago, falling into bliss every time he sang for her. Emotions swirled within her as she came to the realization that things were the same as they had always been. Here was her Angel, firmly directing the situation, enforcing his own will. Was this how things were to end between them?

"I want to stay with you!" She cried out the words with every ounce of force within her delicate body. He drew back, shock plainly registering on his face. This was not the meek chorus girl he had grown so accustomed to. This was a woman hovering on the edge of desperation. She had let her Viscount walk away. Her explanation for doing so was simply that she preferred her Angel to any other. And now she asked to stay here, with him. How could such things be possible?

"You wish to stay with me?" He did not attempt to hide the quiver in his voice. "Then let's make this easy, shall we? If you are to stay, it is permanent. You are to be my wife." The statement was heavy with emotion, anger seething from each word. She had proven herself to be more than untrustworthy, she had utterly betrayed him. If she was sincere, then she ought to have no issue with what he now commanded.

Christine felt as though someone had physically struck the back of her knees, very nearly sending her to the floor once again. But now was not the time for such uncalled for reactions. Now was not the time to dwell on the terror his order instilled in her heart. To marry a madman… to be locked beneath the Opera House for an eternity… to become the bride of darkness…

She could not refuse him.

"Alright." Her voice was only a faint whisper; one Erik could scarcely bring himself to believe.

"What?"

"I said alright," she swallowed, and forced herself to be more audible. And why shouldn't she have expected him to make such a demand of her? And indeed, why should she not accept? She loved him, yes? But oh, the fear he awoke within her, the sheer terror he invoked in her soul… it threatened to unravel her.

"You shall be my bride?"

"Yes, Erik." Her heart was pounding in her chest. Was this truly alright? She loved him, she had always loved him. And he loved her, didn't he? Wasn't that the reason why he had done all this? Why everywhere she cast her gaze around his domain, there was some sort of replica of herself?

"Why my dear, you are trembling." Erik's voice was dripping with acid as he spoke. He clearly did not guess at her thoughts. "Why do you agree to something that terrifies you so?"

Christine was silent, and her gaze towards him iced over. She loved him, but she despised him as well.

He frowned at her cold anger, and broke their stare. Without pausing to see if she followed him, he strode to one of his greatest triumphs concerning her. Pulling back a deep velvet red curtain, he revealed the mannequin of Christine, lifeless and terrifying. Christine had not been able to understand that the mannequin of herself wore a wedding dress the first time she laid eyes upon the frightening replica of herself. But now she saw, and now she understood.

"Take the dress and change," he ordered softly. His mannerisms had softened, no longer teeming with hate, with the desire to hurt her emotionally. She was frightened, but she did not try to run from him. Perhaps there was some sinister motives to her actions, but then again, perhaps there were not. He was going to call her bluff, either way.

"Very well." Her voice was just as shaky as her limbs as she made her way over to the frightening replica of herself.

Raoul de Chagny had walked away, but he certainly had no intentions of giving up. Even as he made his way through the Opera House, it was not the exit he sought. He was going to find the one person who could lead him to the Phantom and Christine, without the accompaniment of the crowd that had formed about them. His heart had retched to see Christine speak out in defense of the man who had terrified her for so long. He clearly recalled the countless conversations when she had asked him to set her free from the dark chains of the Opera House. She had made her feelings crystal clear over time, wishing only to be released from the supernatural hold the Phantom held over her.

She had fallen back under his spell. Raoul had been able to see that much when she lost herself in the power of the song. Yes, it had shredded his heart to see the woman he loved most singing in such a way to another man. Had it been a normal man, a normal situation, he would have gracefully bowed out of the entire affair, not willing to put his heart on the line only to find it return to him in pieces. But this was Christine, and he was willing to go to any lengths to save her. He had seen the panicked glint in her eyes, he had seen the way she glanced up at him during her performance.

Christine was no longer in control of herself.

And so, Raoul made his way to the shadows, waiting for Madame Giry to surface form the shadows, breaking away from the crowd that had spoken in the Phantom's defense.

"Madame!" Raoul lightly touched her arm, gaining the older woman's attention. She gave him a look of surprise as she stiffened.

"Viscount," she answered. "I had thought you left."

"I cannot leave Christine in such peril, Madame." He drew in a deep breath. It would be difficult to obtain information from her this time, as she most likely did not understand the danger Christine found herself in. What if the monster's spell broke? What if it became clear to him that she did not share the sick love he felt for her? Would he kill her? Hold her against her will? Raoul could not stand the thought.

"I do not believe her to be in peril, Monsieur."

"How can you not?" Raoul fought to remain calm, in full control of his own actions. He must not allow his frustration to guide him.

"Christine went with the man willingly, Viscount. Her choices are her own, and under his watch, there could be no safer place for her." Raoul's eyes flashed with outrage, although her response had not been unexpected.

"Will you tell me where they have gone?" He would travel every hallway of the Opera Populaire if he had to, searching each stone for a trapdoor, for a passage that could lead him to Christine. He would find her with or without the assistance of the ever evasive Madame Giry.

"Why?"

"Surely Madame, you must understand! If I am to truly release the woman I love to the man she has spent months telling me terrifies and controls her, I would prefer to do so in good conscience. I must be assured that she truly has chosen this of her own free will, that she is fully in command of her thoughts."

"You do not believe in Christine, then?"

"What?" For another time that night, Raoul felt the edges of reality begin to blur. "Of course I do! This has nothing to do with Christine, it has everything to do with the fact that monster is controlling her somehow."

"And just what do you plan to do, if I lead you to them?" He felt as though her tone was mocking, as though she were addressing an over-active child. His pride bristled at her manner towards him, and again he struggled to remain perfectly composed.

"I plan to rescue Christine, Madame."

"You plan to take her away then? Even if it is against her will?" Honestly, what was the matter with this woman? Why was she treating Raoul as though he were in the wrong?

"Madame Giry!" He was most indignant with her implications. "I plan to rescue the woman I love, who has promised to marry me. I do not believe that the passage of merely a few hours could have so drastically changed her heart towards myself and that… Ghost."

"If Christine chooses to seek you, Monsieur, I believe she will know how to do so. I shall respect her decision this night and let her in peace." Raoul's gaze grew dark with anger at her words.

"I shall find her, with or without your help, you realize."

"Then I shall accept no responsibility for the fate of one who foolishly explores the less trodden spaces in this building." With a twirl of her long, dark braid, Madame Giry turned and left Raoul to seethe in frustration.

Had everyone gone mad?

Raoul crossed his arms as his mind raged furiously. There must be some way to reach her, to discover her location. If only he could find her, speak to her, he knew that she would be grateful for his presence. She would return to him, and the nightmare of the Opera Populaire could at last draw to a close.

It was not until he saw Meg Giry pass by that his thoughts took on a more solid pattern.

"Mademoiselle Giry!" He approached the young dancer, looking nearly frantic.

"Viscount de Chagny!" she exclaimed, her surprise evident.

"Do you know where the Phantom has taken Christine? Can you tell me how to reach them?" She drew back, clearly unnerved by his questioning.

"T… taken? He didn't take her…"

"I have just spoken with your mother, Mademoiselle. She is most concerned for Christine's safety, but before she could speak of their location, the authorities passed by. She does not wish for the Ghost to be harmed, so she continued to protect him by leading them away. But now I truly fear for Christine's safety! Please, if you know where they might have gone, you must tell me!"

"M…Mother is concerned?" Raoul felt a small twinge of triumph as he saw her uncertainty.

"Yes! But she does not find the situation quite as dire as I do. Please, you must help me! For Christine's sake!" As a look of worry crossed the ballerina's face, Raoul knew he would soon be facing that monster for the second time before night was over.

A/N: Yikes, it took me forever to get this next chapter up. Sorry about that! But I did warn you that it would take longer to write, simply because I am using a difficult format. As far as I can tell, this tale shall not be a lengthy one. Unfortunately, I have not planned it out in the slightest, so it is subject to change direction in mid chapter on me. My stories tend to do that to me sometimes…

Barb: Well, I suppose it did kind of seem as though I had resolved virtually all the conflict that could await Erik and Christine. But I'm not through with things just yet. You didn't think Raoul would accept things as they were, did ya?

Amber: Thank you! I was trying to think of a turn the PoNR scene could have taken that has never been expressed before. I was shooting for something I haven't read in any fanfictions, that could still be realistic and true to character. As for the rest of the crew, well… I was thinking about what I would do if I were a random stagehand that had been dwelling on tales of the Phantom for as long as I worked in a place. Then to discover that he was a real person just like anyone else… yeah, I'd have protected him, so I decided everyone else should too.

PhantomsHeart: I like Reyer! And I thought he of all people would stick up for Erik, since who knows how long he's worked at the Opera Populaire.

Jaws: Actually, this is my experiment with a different sort of writing style. I'm happy you like it! It's taking a lot of work to keep it going like this though, but I think it's worth the effort to try and improve my writing skills. And yeah, I really really really wanted something good to happen to Erik, something it'll take a while to wrap his mind around and truly understand. He's so wrapped up in believing that the world hates him… I wanted something to happen to make him feel better.

Kate: Thank you! And I am sorry for the wait in getting this next chapter up. I hope you liked it!

Lady Winifred: I'm happy you're enjoying the story so far, and do hope you continue to do so.

Katherine Silverhair: Yes! Someone else noticed that Reyer is a softie! I saw that too, and that's part of what prompted me to write him as I did. And Erik does have an innocence to him, I agree. I can really relate to his outlook on life, and to his character in general, because I've come dangerously close to isolating myself from humanity in the past. Granted, I've never gone bananas and killed anybody, so I'm not quite him, but still! And I freakin LOVE YOUR STORY! Please update soon.

Shdcat27: Thank you for reviewing! I'm glad you enjoyed the story.

Reylan: Ooo, thank you! I didn't know that before. I'm happy you pointed it out to me!