Hey everybody… sorry about the wait. My teachers decided to make every big project due last week and this week so the writing has been slim. Ok there are some things I should explain about the story before I go on. The only part that I'm really taking from Gaston Leroux's novel is the time frame that the Phantom taught Christine. In the movie/musical he taught her since she was real little but in the book he only taught her for several months prior to her debut in Faust--- so I'm going with the book on that one. The rest will be more than likely based on the musical and on Gerard Butler's portrayal of the Phantom in the movie (Gerard plays an excellent hunky Phantom). Also I'm not exactly a stickler for historical accuracy. If it doesn't quite fit how I want the story to work, I'll still put those highly historically improbable things in there for the sake of the plot. I want to thank my own Angel of Music (my boyfriend) for being my muse for this story. He just knows how to pull ideas outta me. Ok finally done.

WildPixieChild6: Glad you liked it. Sorry about the slow update, but I hope you like this chappie.

Allegratree: I really appreciate your advice. Hopefully this chapter may give a little more depth to their relationship. Much of Orrie's past in a whole will be revealed through flash backs, so I want to keep it a little vague at first. She's still holding back something big, but this chapter will allude to it a little. Hope you enjoy!

N.H.S.: You know you were the first review on the last chapter too! Sorry for the wait on this chappie but hopefully the content will make up for it!

My eternal gratitude goes out to all who review. You guys rock! Ok now finally, on with the story!


Chapter 3: Why?


Orrie became determined to understand what had made her Phantom disappear completely from the Opera House. She hastily made her way to Madame Giry's room looking for answers. When she reached the door she knocked politely, although everything in her wanted to break down the barrier between her and the answers she sought. Madame Giry promptly answered door.

"Orrie my dear, what is it?" she asked. At seeing the look on Orrie's face, she already knew exactly what Orrie came for.

"I need to know everything Madame Giry," Orrie said forcefully, with a sternness covering her face. "Everything that has happened these past ten years. But most importantly, everything that lead to the Phantom's disappearance."

Madame Giry began to shake her head in a disapproving nature, "Orrie, I don't think…"

When Madame Giry began to protest, Orrie's face softened into a pleading look. "Please, Madame Giry…" she interrupted. Orrie sighed as her head tilted downward so she was staring at the floor, after a few moments she held her head back up to look at Madame Giry, her eyes becoming a deeper blue as tears began to surface. "I need to understand why he left."

Madame Giry wished that she didn't have to tell Orrie that the Phantom had fallen in love with Christine, but she knew that Orrie wouldn't stop persisting until she knew everything. So there was only one thing left to do. "Come in then," Madame Giry said as she sighed, gesturing to the inside of her room. "For I have quite a story to tell."

Once inside, Madame Giry shut the door and began to tell Orrie everything. She started with how the Phantom had began tutoring a chorus girl by the name of Christine Daae, and had fallen in love with her shortly after beginning to think that Orrie may never return. Then she began telling of the Vicomte who shared a childhood with Christine, and how they fell in love.

"This Vicomte you speak of…" Orrie said hesitantly, interrupting Madame Giry's story. "Was his name Raoul?" she asked, already knowing the answer to her question.

"Yes," Madame Giry replied quite surprised, for it wasn't often that one would speak of the Vicomte solely by his first name. "Raoul de Chagny…" At the sound of his full name Orrie quickly became rather pensive and Madame Giry grew quite curious to know what held Orrie's thoughts. "Do you know him?" she questioned, thinking that Orrie may have been trying to recall a time when she might have seen the Vicomte.

"I knew him once…" Orrie said, barely above the sound of a whisper. She had once again become lost in her thoughts. Madame Giry knew by the look on Orrie's face that any questions she may now have for Orrie about her past would go unanswered. "Would you like me to continue?"

"Oh yes," Orrie said, breaking her mind out its trance. "Please do."

Madame Giry then continued to tell Orrie of the murders, and of the Vicomte's attempt to "save" Christine from the Phantom's grasp. Orrie listened intently, heartbroken that she couldn't have come sooner and relieved her Phantom of all this pain. Madame Giry finished in telling Orrie of how the Phantom let the Vicomte and Christine go, and how since then they have been happily married. Once the story was finished, Orrie was spellbound. The tale was so full of sorrow and although she was happy that the Vicomte had taken Christine away she was also heartbroken at the thought of the suffering that the Phantom must have endured.

"It is getting late my dear," Madame Giry said opening the door to allow Orrie to leave. "You have a big day tomorrow… the managers are coming and we can't have a new ballerina flopping all over the stage because she didn't get enough rest."

"Of course Madame Giry," Orrie replied, though her thoughts continued to be occupied. "Madame Giry…" Orrie said before Madame Giry could close the door.

"Yes Orrie?"

"Thank you for telling me what happened," Orrie said, her eyes truly revealing how grateful she was.

"Of course dear," she said while shutting the door. "Now off to bed with you."

The door closed between them, and Orrie began to walk slowly down the hallway. Becoming so deeply lost in thought, yet again, she found herself not going to her room, but instead to the chapel. While walking, she unknowingly began humming the sweet melody that the Phantom had sung to her in that same chapel.

As she entered, she fixed her eyes on the very spot where her and her Phantom had said farewell. The illusion of the two of them passed through her mind, and she could still see him kneeling there before her as she wept. Pushing the images from her mind, she kneeled in front of the candles. She watched the flames dance as she lit two candles for her parents and then one for her little brother. In lifting her prayers for them to the heavens, she could feel her eyes moisten. She soon found comfort in the thought that the three of them were together and finally at peace as they watched over her.

After finishing her prayers, she lifted her head and looked at the wall to her left, bringing her eyes in contact with the beautiful stain glass window. It was quite a site. A beautiful burst of color, adorning what would be considered to be a rather drab room. The window pictured a lovely faceless angel. The angel's hair was the color of sunlight and its body was covered in a magnificent purple robe. Glorious golden wings flowed from its back and its hands firmly held to a lit torch in the shape of a cross. The angel was encapsulated by the splendor of nature, hovering over an aw-inspiring green field as a light shade of purple and blue fought over the sky. She continued to study the celestial being as she slowly pulled the gold ring off of her delicate hand. She then examined the almost nonexistent inscription; her nervous habit of twisting it around her finger all those years had practically rubbed it away. "Oriel, My Angel of Destiny" it still read, barely. 'I'm hardly an angel,' Orrie thought to herself. She looked back that Angel in the window with its powerful golden wings and the bright torch that it used to seemingly light its way. 'If only a light could so easily guide my path… I feel so lost.' Orrie sat thinking of how ironic it was that her name meant 'Angel of Destiny' and yet her destiny had still remained a mystery. She could feel her eyelids becoming heavier and finally decided that she needed rest. She blew out the candles and glanced back once again to the spot where the farewell took place. She then felt rather fatigued and quickly made her way back to her room.

Meanwhile… in the lower levels of the Opera House, the Phantom had been working diligently on his music. He played the organ as if he were performing an intricate dance. His body swayed smoothly with the each note as if his soul were pushing every emotion from his very core into the fingers that gracefully manipulated the keys. Every bit of sorrow, every sense of anguish was poured into his music, and yet there was still a sense of hope. Such unrelenting emotion was exhausting and tormenting to his soul. His music was a release of all his grief but also a constant reminder. His memories continued to suffocate his heart as if someone were taking his very own punjab lasso and strangling him with it. For two years now he had been left alone with the torturing memories of his lost Christine. The torture not coming from the thought of her leaving him for Raoul (he had come to terms with that long ago). But the remembrance of not totally being alone compared to the thought of remaining alone for the rest of his days overcame him with despair.

Becoming too desperately engrossed in his emotion, he decided he needed to relax. He thought that if he were to work on his building plans he would be able to relieve the thoughts of his painful past. He had been making plans to rebuild a few of the lower passageways so that if anyone were to some looking for him again they would reach a dead end. He wasn't occupied with thoughts of the Opera, since he had concerned himself with very little of the upper levels of the Opera House since the night of Don Juan; going above only to make sure that the reconstruction work done on the Opera House since the fire was to his liking.

Upon entering his study he noticed that a book was out of place, it had a navy blue cover and was just lying on top of some of the other books on the shelf, which was odd for he would always have his books standing on the shelves properly in their respected places. He went to the shelf and looked the book over curiously. "Mon Croquis Livre? What is my sketchbook doing out of its place?" Then he remembered the other night when he went to reach for a book another had fallen to the floor, and being too engrossed in his thoughts he just laid it on top of the others. He thumbed through the book curiously having forgotten most of the drawings. He use to enjoy sketching, it always seemed to relax him, but he soon got bored with it and decided to end his little hobby. While flipping through pages, he saw his sketches of the auditorium before the fire. "What an utter disaster that night was," he muttered; he thought back to the night of the fire and found himself suppressing a sigh. Turning to the next page, he saw the ballerinas practicing for their performances, and with another turn of a page he saw a scene from Il Muto that he once sketched. On the next page was a sketch that filled him with ache and longing, and yet a sense of warmth and comfort. The feeling of warmth and comfort came as a shock to him for they are feelings he had long gone without. He stared at it intensely as a single tear rolled down his cheek. The sketch was of a little girl with curly hair dressed in a beautiful white gown with strategically placed sparkles all over it. There was window sketched across from her with beams of moonlight flowing through it falling on the girl's small frame, and at the bottom of the sketch was the title of the picture 'An Angel in the Night'. The Phantom closed the sketchbook and placed it back where he found it.

"Oh Orrie," he said nostalgically, his hand resting on the edge of the shelf with his head tilted toward the floor. "Why did you never come? Why did you never return to me?" He sighed. "It would have all been so different had you returned." He felt a tear return to his eye as he brought his head up to look at a tiny stuffed bear that rested on a small end table in the corner. He slowly picked the bear up and examined every feature. He carefully brought the bear up to his face resting his lips on the softness of the stuffed animal's head. Pulling it back he examined it once more. "Dear Orrie" he muttered as he recalled the way the bear came into his possession.

"Phantom… Phantom…" A young Orrie called as she wondered to the stage holding her most precious possession. The managers had given the cast and crew the day off in celebration of the Opera's success the previous night. She was so focused on finding her Phantom that she didn't realize one of the stagehands approaching her, still sickeningly drunk from the night before.

"Little girls like you shouldn't be wandering around alone" he slurred. Orrie gasped as she turned to face the stranger. The man frightened Orrie. His breath was awful, he couldn't even walk straight, and he had a terrible look of hate in his eyes. "You're that Binet man's daughter aren't you?" Orrie said nothing as she clenched the item she was holding tightly and began to back up, she was now breathing heavily and her eyes grew wide with fear. "I'd bet the old man would pay plenty to get a pretty little thing like you back." With that he lunged at her grabbing her arm. Orrie let out a horrible shriek.

"AHHHHH! Phantom! Phantom!" she screamed at the top off her lungs and her possession flew from her hands as she struggled with all her might to get free.

The drunken man chuckled, "You actually think the Opera Ghost would come to help a little pipsqueak like you?" He had held her more forcefully now; trying to keep her a little more still and was completely oblivious to the powerful figure standing behind him.

"I would advise you unhand her," a deep commanding voice sounded from behind the drunken man. He released Orrie and she quickly ran to the nearest corner recovering the item that had escaped her hands in the struggle.

"Who do you think you…" the drunkard's words left him as he turned to face he man behind him and seeing the porcelain mask that covered half of his face. "Opera Ghost," he whispered in fear as he began to step backwards.

"Yes," the Phantom replied. "It seems the Opera Ghost would help… what did you call her? Oh yes… a little pipsqueak." With every word that came out of his mouth he became more consumed with anger and the amber color that rimmed his pupil had now overcome his eyes. "You should try to pick your battles more wisely Monsieur," with that the Phantom's fist cracked against the drunkard's jaw breaking it, and throwing the drunkard to the ground. "Now you will pay for your foolishness," he said as he pulled the lasso out of his cape.

Just then he heard a tiny gasp from behind him, and he remembered Orrie was standing there watching everything. He turned to look at her; she was holding to her possession tightly as if trying to draw courage form it, but was still absolutely terrified and trembling even though she was released from the drunkard's grasp. He then placed the lasso back into his cape, not wanting Orrie to witness a murder let alone one that he would commit.

The Phantom then grabbed the man by the shirt holding him close to his face. "You will never return to this Opera House for if you do you will be writing your own death sentence." The Phantom then threw the terrified man, who was still clenching his broken jaw, back down to the ground. "Now, I suggest you run seeing as the police will be looking for you when this girl's father learns of your assault." The Phantom was still hovering over him with every word before the man stumbled to his feet and ran as fast as his drunken feet would take him out of the Opera House.

Once the man was gone the Phantom went to Orrie and kneeled before her. "Are you alright?" he asked tenderly as he brushed a few of her tears away with his hand. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, I'm alright," Orrie said as she began to calm down. "Oh Phantom," she said leaning forward and resting herself in his arms. "I was so afraid he would take me."

He then pulled her from him and brushed a few stray curls from her face, his eyes had now returned to their original emerald with the amber rim. "Orrie… as long as you are in this Opera House you are under my protection, and I will make sure nothing ever happens to you." A slight smile then came to his lips reassuring her that everything will be all right.

She smiled back and threw her arms around his neck. "Oh thank you Phantom… I feel much better now."

"Good" he said as she released him. "Now what do we have here?" he said taking the possession from her hands and eyeing it curiously.

"That's my Bo-Bear," she said, now smiling brightly. "He makes me feel better when I'm scared."

"Ah, I see," he said examining the small teddy bear. It was rather worn. Orrie no doubt used it countless times when she felt the slightest bit uncomfortable. "Well then we can't have you being without him now can we?" he said as he handed the bear back to Orrie. Orrie looked at the bear thoughtfully and then back at the Phantom.

"I want you to have him," she said handing the bear back to him. "It's a present for saving me"

"Orrie I can't take him from you… What would you do when you get scared?" he said putting the bear back in her hands.

"I have you to keep me from being scared now so I won't need him," she said giving him back the bear. "What do you have to keep from getting scared?

The Phantom then raised his finger to point as his mask. "This keeps me from fear, dear Orrie."

"Your mask?" She questioned, he then nodded to tell her yes. "But you can't cuddle with a mask," she taunted. The Phantom let his head drop to look at the floor as he laughed softly at her innocence.

"I suppose your right," he said looking back at her face.

"So will you take him? Please… I know you'll take good care of him. Please… for me?" She then gave him a sweet yet pleading smile hoping he would accept her gift.

"Well…" he said with an uncertain look. "If its for you."

"Oh, Phantom," Orrie said once again throwing her arms around his neck. "He'll be such a good bear… and now you'll never be lonely… and he'll remind you of me… and…"

"Alright, alright" he said with a smile on his face interrupting her rambling. "Now lets go to the orchestra pit… I bet you haven't sung all day."

His eyes had traced the bear over and over again. He once thought he would repair it since it was so worn when Orrie gave it to him but he decided that he wanted to keep it exactly as he had received it. He then placed the bear back in its corner and turned to leave the study. He would work on his plans later, but now he needed to take a bath for tomorrow he would go to watch rehearsals. He knew the ballet girls had been practicing the past couple of weeks but tomorrow the new Prima Donna was coming and he wished to know whether she would resemble the dreadful Carlotta at all. He was also anxious to resume the life he had before Christine had come along. As he rested his exhausted body in the warmth of the water the image he had drawn of Orrie appeared in his mind, she was the hope. Out of all the sadness he poured into his music, she was the sense of hope he always felt. But the more he thought of the sketch the more he wondered if what was lost may never return since that one angelic spirit that held herself in perfect balance upon the center of the picture had left him when she was just a little girl. Would she care to return? Would she even remember? The Phantom once again felt the vulnerability of sad emotions overcoming him. He stifled the tears in his eyes as he thought of his 'Angel of Destiny'. "Why Orrie? Why haven't you returned to me?"


Alright there it is. I hope you guys like it. If you do let me know and if you don't… still let me know. I try my best to get the next chappie up soon (crossing fingers). Please review (in pleading voice) "That's all I ask of you.":) I remain, Viewers, your faithful Authoress. -Maggie