NOTE: I agree with you Juliana, I studied all about the real life man and his experiences, and I've never seen the film :) so I know Erik wouldn't have been beaten or anything like that, but they were still seen as complete outcasts. Erik I guess would have been seen worse because of all the bad things he did, yeah. Nad xxx

"Please state your name."

"Christine Annette Daae."

They held out a bible to her to swear that only the truth would come from her answers. She tried to breathe calmly out and slow, but her palms were clammy, and she couldn't keep her eyes concentrated on the 2 men who questioned her. They always kept hovering over to Erik.

The defendant asked her simple questions, like where she was born, when she arrived at the Opera, her life there, when it had ended and how she had felt it the safest option to return to Erik. He played up Christine's knowledge that Erik was a good person, after showing the court what a nice girl Christine was. He asked her about her time in Persia, how he had looked after her. She missed out telling about him chasing her away… It was clever tactics, but it was never going to measure up to the games the prosecution was about to play.

"So Miss Daae, you say you felt safe in the 'accused' presence?"

"Yes, Monsieur I do."

"Indeed, indeed. And so was this…safety demonstrated when you were kidnapped, the time of the fire?"

"I…"

What should she say? No, she had feared terribly for Raoul's life, and mourned she would never see the outside again. But yet, he had never hurt her, or made to harm her.

"…yes. He would never hurt me."

"Yet he sees fit to hurt a whole load of other people?"

"He…it wasn't his fault?"

"I'm sorry Mademoiselle? Not his fault? How is that exactly?"

Christine fell back into that horrible memory were she had ripped the mask from Erik's face and caused him to fall into a great rage. No doubt everyone in court knew about that time too, it had been all over France, telling the story of the terrible disaster, and the moments leading up to it.

"It was my fault, I angered him."

"Oh, I see. So innocent people must die when this man is angered?"

"No…its…its not that."

"Well tell us, Miss Daae, as we all want to know why families must suffer and not see any justice appear from this situation!"

Christine didn't answer. There was no point. There was no point explaining how intense and raw feelings were between them. What did it matter to these people? What did they care that Erik loved her so much he would die without her? What did it matter that she was going to die the moment he did?

The prosecution sighed heavily, seeing the distressed look in the young woman's features. He talked a little more softly in his next questions.

"What happened that night Miss Daae? The night he took you into hiding."

She had tried to block it out of her own mind, and the feeling from that night still haunted her. And she knew it did more with Erik. She felt pained she had to bring back all the images to him, and in front of a whole court.

Christine began with the performance of Don Juan, how see had felt her heart stop when he had appeared on stage. How she hadn't known whether to carry on or not. She told of her rapidly changing mind, should she…shouldn't she? And finally the plan came into being that she would expose him to everyone, who he was. She told of how he had cut down the chandelier in anger, and dragged her down to his lair once more, swearing he would keep her there. She told of how Raoul had turned up, and tried to plead with Erik. She hesitated on his threats, how he was going to kill Raoul of she didn't choose to live down there with him.

Then Christine had told the court how she had made up her mind to stay, and show Erik he wasn't destined to be alone if he had realised that his disfigurement had not been something people where afraid of, rather his unruly, aggressive side. She told how she had kissed him, and how he had turned them both away, asking for forgiveness and to be alone. She left out the leaving of the ring with him, and the moment in his chamber. That was not a memory she wished to share.

The court had fallen in complete silence. Christine saw eyes moving from her to Erik, who was breathing heavy, looking at his feet. Even the judge and the lawyers gaped at her.

"M…Mademoiselle, thank you. You may sit down."

Christine gave Erik an unreadable look as she sat, which he returned to her. A few whispers followed her, and a few people shifting in their seats to stare. No doubt her whole personal life would be in the papers tomorrow. She didn't care. All she was concentration on, was the moment everyone had been waiting for…as the prosecution called out…

"I called the accused…Erik Djilia to the stand."

He moved silently to the stand. Almost too silently, as his footsteps couldn't be heard even in the silence of the courtroom. It was eerie. He kept his face low and almost on an angle, as if in a last attempt to hide his disfigured side. Christine could see the muscles in his cheeks straining as he clenched his teeth together.

"Erik…how was your childhood?"

He didn't answer.

"…Erik? I need an answer. Was your childhood, say, agg…"

"My father was murdered before I was born, my mother cast me out after beating me every single day of my childhood."

"…Right. And after?"

"Italy. I worked in Italy."

"Did you enjoy it there?"

No answer.

"Ok…what made you come to Paris?"

"A death sentence."

The prosecution raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Where did this come about?"

Erik had spoke through gritted teeth, and Christine could see the whiteness of his knuckles. She sat with a hand across her mouth, wishing for the torment to stop. Erik must have been in hell. Recalling his memories, bring out things he himself had never dared to think of again, and, unmasked, in front of his accusers.

However, he wasn't looking for sympathy or forgiveness. All he wanted was to get this over and done with. Answering the questions would be the quickest way.

He told briefly of his time in Persia, how he had helped the Emir only to receive a death penalty. Some of the court chuckled at his story, and the prosecution had a slight smile on his face.

"…Right…" He said sarcastically. He looked at the jury for a long time before continuing. "So, let me bring our attention to the Miss Daae. How do you feel towards her?"

Could he put it into words? Could her ever explain why he was tormented by her very presence at the Opera, why he had been driven to insanity by his love. No. He could never.

"…I love her."

"So it seems. But in your dedication to her, you killed innocent people just so she could be on stage, you killed hundreds just so you could have her for yourself, you threaten the life of another so she would stay….Monsieur…do you claim that this is an act of innocent love?"

Not even lying alone in his cell could he think of an answer. He shifted uncomfortable on the hard mattress, his hands cupping over his mouth. His eyes closed.

For the first time in his life…he felt a strange feeling of heaviness, and a desire to turn back time. Maybe this is what they called guilt. He supposed that's why the jury's decision had been inevitable.

Guilty.

His heart had sunk. Not as his own fate, but at the utter despair in Christine, as she had sat weeping into her friends shoulder. How she had looked at him desperately as he was dragged away.

The new moon shone brightly through the small window on the opposite side to his bed, casting dark shadows in the corners of his cell, which strangely made him feel a little comforted. In his mind, he revisited that sunny moment, when he had found himself awake in that wonderful, blissful state, with his angel lying peacefully next to him. That moment was what he had lived for. As long as Christine was safe from now on…it hardly mattered if he was gone. Most of him felt he deserved to go.

"I can't let you die."

Erik's eyes snapped open and he stood up to see Christine stood by the bars. He reached his arms through to caress her wet cheeks, and entwine his fingers in her curls. She had a look of terror in her eyes, not silent acceptance that had been there a few days ago. She clung to his arms, squeezing his shirt desperately.

"Christine…Christine!"

She began hyperventilating, tears streaming down her face, and high pitched gasps escaping her lips. He steadied his strokes on her arms to keep her calm, yet she began sobbing and muttering incomprehensibly.

"Christine…what is it?"

"What is it! Wh…Erik…this cant be happening! I…"

He frowned, and silently cursed the bars in-between them, and the hovering guards that were looking over at Christine's hysterical state.

"Shh…I'm sorry…I'm sorry you have to go through this my love…"

But she pulled away from his close embrace, shaking her head, and looking around. She bit her lip in pain and sorrow, before looking at him deeply.

"No…no, Erik…there's something…I have to…"

She steadied herself against the bars, as her legs could give out at any moment. She felt sick and was on the verge of collapsing. Erik was holding her as most support.

"Christine…what?"

She swallowed a few times before holding his arms tightly and pulling herself closer to him. He felt a strange wave of fear stab in the heart, the same fear he saw reflected in Christine's eyes.

"Erik…I…I'm pregnant."