A/N: The chapters will come faster now. Phoenix has only one chapter left to write. There will be 53 chapters total. One of the chapters will be split into three parts because of the length.

I know the subject of my scar had been brought up. I hope that this chapter answers the questions. If there are any more, do not hesitate to ask in your review. I will be happy to answer.

As always, please read and review. Phoenix has asked Erik and I to remind you that she has a new Phantom story to post soon after Light is finished. She hopes that you will continue to read her work. I have read the first chapter and it is good. It is quite different from Light, but it is well worth the read.

Enjoy. And the stage is yours.

With much love,

Angelina

P.S. Once again, the music used in this chapter does not belong to Phoenix, Erik, or myself. It belongs to the talented Monsieur Andrew Lloyd Webber. His talent exceeds all expectations. Thank you to him for writing such wonderful music.

Chapter 43 – To Look Behind the Mask

Her head pounded with no signs of relieving itself. It stirred her from the deep sleep she had found herself in. She did not want to leave the warmth of the blankets. They soothed her bare skin.

Bare skin…!

Angelina's eyes flew open and kept the blankets tight around her. Peering underneath, she quickly pulled them against her body.

I am naked and I am in Erik's room…

She vaguely remembered what happened. There were shouts and dirt and ice. She could remember trying to claw her way to the stop of the frigid water, her lungs burning and wanting air. The next thing she saw was darkness. Voices surrounded her and she could hardly make them out.

Music then filled her and brought her toward the light. Erik's voice filled her ears and kept her calm. There was a hand that caressed her side and she felt safe and something else she had never felt before. Her heart swelled at the contact, not wanting it to break away. But it had and a new void had been formed.

Erik had been with her for what seemed like days. Angelina could not even begin to imagine what day it was. She had missed practice and rehearsal. Gathering the blankets around her, she stood quietly and moved to retrieve her clothes. None were within sight. The closet seemed to be her only option.

Her skin still felt as though it were breaking apart. Her body ached and her head seemed to want to shut down as pain seared through every part of her. Angelina steadied herself against the bedpost before continuing on. The room spun around her. She closed her eyes tight, trying to settle not only her mind but her stomach as well.

Opening her eyes, she reached the closet without faltering. Looking inside, opulent suits adorned wooden hangers. Gently touching each one, she imagined Erik taking her to different parts of Paris elegantly dressed. She smiled, finding the hooded cape that she loved so much.

Digging through the closet more, she found a beautiful dress in the back. Taking it out, her jaw dropped at how beautifully made it was. Every detail was made to impress – the beadwork, the lace, the cut. The size seemed to be about the right size. Slipping it off of the hanger, Angelina unbuttoned the back of the dress and stepped in.

She stood in front of the mirror as she slowly began to button it up. The dress had been a perfect fit, just as she thought. The pale pink fabric hugged every curve in her body. It was as though it had been made for her. Angelina grabbed a few pins off of a nearby dresser and pinned back her caramel curly locks. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, her image did not impress her much. Her skin still looked clammy and pale. The icy cold water had done its damage. Suddenly, music filled the air and her heart. Turning, she slowly began toward the doorway.

Erik sat at his organ, his fingers gliding over the keys. The pipes vibrated with passion that had never before been felt. The ivory keys were being touched with the gentle motion of his fingers. He seemed to be caressing it rather than playing it. There was feeling behind the notes and gave each of his five senses something else to crave.

Angelina stood in the doorway, watching him and studying him. The robe billowed around him, hiding his figure from her. He was neat and kempt and seemed to be too engrossed in the music to notice she had woken. Standing still, she watched as the flames on the candles before her flickered to the beat of the music.

"No one would listen…no one but her…heard as the outcast hears…"

Turning her gaze from the flickering flames, Angelina listened to the sadness in Erik's voice.

"Shamed into solitude…shunned by the multitude…I learned to listen…in my dark, my heart heard music…"

His back tensed for the briefest of seconds. He sat up straighter, letting his fingers guide him through the music he had for so long wanted to sing.

"I long to teach the world…rise up and reach the world…no one would listen…I alone could hear the music…"

Tears were welling up in Angelina's eyes. She could not believe that Erik felt that way about himself. It was as if he was allowing her to hear his most inner thoughts.

"Then, at last, a voice in the gloom…seemed to cry 'I hear you'…I hear your fears…your torment and your tears…"

Her feet seemed to have a will of their own. They began to bring her toward the organ and the man that had begun to bare his soul.

"She saw my loneliness…shared in my emptiness…no one would listen…no one but her…heard as the outcast hears…"

Angelina could hear Erik shudder. His emotions were building and she could feel them in the lingering notes of the song. Just a few feet from him, Angelina reached out a hand…

"No one would listen…no one but her…heard as the outcast hears."

Tears streamed down Angelina's cheeks. She could feel his heart break as the last note was played. Before she could lay a hand on Erik's shoulder, she watched him turn his face toward her.

"You are awake."

Angelina could barely nod her head. "Yes."

Wiping away her tears, Erik took her outstretched hand and kissed the back of it. "Many were worried that you would never wake."

"How long have I been…?"

"Almost a week."

Angelina's head spun at the news. A week? I have been unconscious for a week?

"I have taken care of you, Angelina. I assure you, all you needed was rest. Your fever broke early on. Your body needed time to heal and become what it once was."

Erik had noticed the dress she wore. It was to be a present later on just so he could see her smile. He had not expected her to wake so soon. The dress shop was still tailoring several dresses he had Rene order. They would be ready the next morning but there was no need for them to rush as Rene had told them to.

"I see you found the dress."

"It is beautiful."

"It pales in comparison to the beauty that wears it."

Angelina looked into the eyes of Erik as her cheeks grew hot. Erik reached out a hand and brushed away the lingering tears upon her cheek.

"Erik, your song…"

"I would not have played it if I knew you were awake."

"You revealed to me things that I never thought possible." She squeezed the hand that had kept a hold of hers. "You showed me feelings that you have told no one."

"You do not know that."

"Yes, I do. I could feel your pain…your anguish…your…"

Silencing her, he laid his finger upon her rose colored lips. "There is something I must tell you."

"The song said it all."

"The song merely brushed the surface of what I need to tell you." Letting go of her hand, he took a few steps back toward the darkness he had lived in for so long. "What do you know of the Phantom of the Opera?"

Angelina looked at him curiously. "He is a myth, a legend in his own right. He terrorizes opera houses to satisfy his lust for flesh and blood."

Erik cringed, knowing that the truth was not going to be as easy as he had hoped. "What if I told you that the Phantom is not a myth and certainly not a legend?"

"Erik, you of all people should not believe in the Phantom of the Opera. He is merely a tale told to children to frighten them. They know not to lurk in the depths of the opera house."

"Who told you the tale of the Phantom?"

"My father, of course. He loved to tell me ghost stories. Alexander was a boy who was about adventure. I loved to be frightened."

"My first home was not this opera house. I lived beneath the Opera Populaire."

Angelina searched her memory. The name of the opera house was familiar to her. She could not place it.

"There had been many talents that had gone through the corridors. I had fallen in love with a beautiful young dancer who turned into the most exquisite singer…"

Angelina watched him as he began to walk throughout his lair. She felt as though he did not want to keep eye contact with her. The feeling made her uneasy as she continued to watch him.

"…I terrorized the opera house to make sure she had a secure spot as the lead…"

Angelina gasped. The sound seemed to echo throughout the lair. Erik's head lowered as he continued his tale.

"…I killed, Angelina…I killed two men. One was a drunken man who seemed only interested in how the dancers undressed than the work that he was to do."

"And the other?"

Erik did not have the strength to tell her.

"The other?"

"Was for my own benefit."

The words were a blow to her heart. She felt weak and dizzy. Steadying herself, Angelina watched as the man before her seemed to grow smaller.

"They hated me, Angelina. I was shunned, forced to live in darkness just as I am now."

"That does not make what you did right."

"I have tried to atone for what I have done. But for the acts that I have committed, only in the afterlife can I be redeemed."

Looking up at her, Erik watched as Angelina's eyes glowed from the candlelight around her. He shook his head.

This is not how I envisioned this going in my mind…

"You saved a boy from a cage just a few weeks ago…" Beginning back toward her, Erik was once again gathering the courage to tell her what he needed to. "…he was known as the Devil's Child."

Still reeling from what Erik had told her, she merely nodded her head.

"Much as I was. I was a sideshow act so the gypsies might survive. The boy you saved merely had a scar across his face. The imperfections that he has are nothing compared to what I suffer with. I see it in the mirror every time I look at my reflection. I frighten people once I remove the one thing that has protected me my entire life – my mask."

Erik stepped in front of Angelina, watching the emotions run across her face. She had shown everything – anger, pity, happiness, and sadness. Now was the moment of truth. He would damn himself to Hell if Angelina turned away once he revealed himself to her. Flames would consume his soul much more than when Christine shunned him. He had grown closer to Angelina than he ever did with Christine. The wound he would suffer would most likely kill him.

"I am the Phantom of the Opera."

"Erik…"

"I need to show you who I really am."

"I know who you really are."

Tilting his head down, he put his fingers under the edge of his mask. With one swift move, he had removed his mask and wig. Taking a deep breath, Erik slowly let his head rise and his eyes meet Angelina's.

There was no pity in her eyes – no remorse. His breath caught as Angelina took a step forward. Tears were filling his eyes, making her face that much harder to see.

He stood, his body frozen like a statue as her fingertips gently brushed over the marred skin. It was soft, unlike anything she had ever felt. She could hear Erik's breath catch as she continued her exploration. His eyes were still beautiful even with the deformity. They continued to be iridescent and drew her in as never before. His hair was not the jet black she had come to know. It seemed to be a copper color even in the candlelight. A large spot continued from his face onto the top of his head. She continued her trace upward.

"Angelina…"

"Shhh..."

His eyes closed as her feather-like touches sent him soaring into the heavens. He had never imagined it would be like this. Erik imagined Angelina screaming and fleeing from the lair. He could feel her fingers combing through his still thinning hair. Her other hand had found its way to his unmarred cheek. Tears spilled down his cheeks and she gently brushed them away.

"You are not the Devil's Child."

He could not look at her – the shame he felt too much to bear.

"Erik, look at me."

Slowly opening his eyes, Erik peered into Angelina's eyes. They seemed to smile to him.

"This does not change how I feel about you."

"How can you not run?"

"You have seen my scars…"

She led his hand to her side and slowly worked it up along the scar that could not be felt through the fabric. Erik closed his eyes and saw the scar that he had traced with his hand days earlier.

"I felt your touch. Through the darkness, I could feel it. I would know it anywhere."

His eyes opened and looked at the innocence upon her face.

"I lied to you when I said that the scars I bore were from a surgeon's hand. The one right above my heart is from my surgery as a child."

"Angelina, you do not have to tell me."

"It is only fair. You told me your tale. I will tell you mine." She kept his hand pressed to her side as her hand was kept upon the cheek he wanted to hide from her view. "I was attacked, a few years ago. Alexander and I had traveled away from home for the first time. I wandered through the streets late at night. He had told me, more than once, to not wander far. I disobeyed. Several street urchins attacked me in an alleyway and took everything that I possessed, almost including my life. Alexander came to the hospital the next morning, finding me at death's door."

Erik watched as tears came to her eyes. He grasped her hand at her waist. Joining their fingers together, Angelina found the courage to continue the story.

"My mother never found out of the incident. My father was furious but soon helped me through the emotions that I had held within. I had thought I would never find the strength to go outside of my house again. But I was determined that I would live my dream and dance in Paris as my mother had." She smiled. "Who was to know that I would find an angel waiting for me."

"I am no angel, Angelina. I am far from it."

"You are my guardian angel. No one can take that away from me – not even your doubts and fears." Caressing his cheek, she smiled at him. "You cannot push me away any longer. You have shown me a part of you that you have shown no one else. I do not want you to hide from me in the shadows any longer."

"Angelina…"

"I am not going to run and hide if that is what you hope I will do. I am standing right here before you – not running and screaming. I do not intend to."

Taking the mask from his hand, she placed it on the organ bench. Angelina wanted his full attention.

"Look at me, Erik."

His eyes could not leave hers. They brought him light and security. They gave him hope and stability. Her eyes were the shelter that shielded him from the pain that others had given him. She had not shunned him as he thought. He felt warmth within his soul for the first time.

"You are my teacher – my angel. Nothing will take that away from me. Not your looks or your actions. I will try to understand why you…" Angelina could not find the courage to say that Erik had murdered two men. "…took the actions you did. I will find a way. But I will not turn away from you or desert you. Of this I assure you."

Erik choked up at Angelina's kind words. It hit his heart harder than he had anticipated. Gently lifting her up, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You should rest. You are still weak."

"I am stronger now that you have entrusted me with this secret."

He smiled and gently kissed her forehead. "You have made me stronger by accepting who I am." Pausing, he looked at the beauty that was in his arms. "Come, I will sing you to sleep."

She smiled wider than she would have liked. "I would like that very much."

Erik carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom – his sanctuary. Many secrets had been told and scars revealed. But he had yet to tell her the biggest one of all – how he nearly ruined her parents' life. Two burning bridges he had crossed and Angelina did not leave his side. But he feared her rejection of him once he revealed to her how he had wanted nothing more than to make Christine his bride.

Time could only help heal the wounds that were about to be opened. Erik trusted whatever force that was helping him love. He trusted the spirit that lingered there to guide him into the arms of the woman that endured everything with him. With the light battling the dark, Erik knew that fate would bring him to where he was supposed to be…and into the arms of the woman that he loved.