Note: I'm sorry I am not very good with grammar; I just get carried away writing the story and typing so fast to keep up with my brain that I hardly notice! But daft penguin: I have never read or seen that plot twist before on fanfic or in any film, but even if it has been used before, I wrote it in ignorance. Xxx omg, yay! A hundred reviews!

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Christine had waited for the light to completely fade until she decided to make a move. She listened for Madame Giry and Meg when they retired to their rooms upstairs. Slowly and quietly, she opened her bedroom door and inched through. She took her outdoor coat of the rail and slung the hood over her head.

Her legs still felt weak, and they shook slightly as she took each step. But, her determination was greater than her setbacks, and she opened the front door gently, and closed it behind her.

Now that she was outside, she felt a little braver. The dark streets were lit with streetlamps, casting an orange glow around them, yet creating eerie shadows in the alleys around the street. Christine pulled her coat around her protectively, and cast a long look around her, making sure no one was about. She slipped into the shadows, blending in with the dark colour of her clothes. When she was onto the main streets, she would try to find a passing carriage.

Christine doubled back on herself a few times, just in case she was being followed, and sometimes made sharp turns as a short or long detour, getting lost to anyone in the sometimes very narrow streets. Her footsteps were quick and almost at a jog, her heart pounding at every noise she heard. Walking the streets like his after dark was not safe, and she knew it. The sooner she could find a carriage, the better.

But a carriage seemed out of the question, as there was none about, or they were occupied by late night lovers. She supposed the Opera house was not that far away no anyway, and she quickened her pace.

About 15 minutes later, the street opened out into an open plan, where the buildings surrounded a square in the centre, and its overlord stood overlooking, once a proud majestic building, and now eaten out from the core. It both pained and excited Christine to see her former home once again. She had forgotten how much she had missed it.

Christine quickly slipped into the building, climbing through some wooden panels that had clumsily been bordering the side doors. The corridor preceding the main entrance didn't seem that badly affected, even in the lack of light, Christine could still see the fine works of art still crowning the walls and the beautiful ceiling, highly decorated in grandeur. Maybe it hadn't been as damaged as she thought.

But entering the main foyer, where the large staircase swooped down to greet her, she felt her heart turn as dark as the charcoaled statues and roof. There was debris littered all over the steps, making it impossible to reach the upper levels, by these stairs in any case. Still, she wasn't trying to reach the upper levels…

She took the descending staircase to her left, which swung out into a million different corridors. Yet she knowingly tiptoed through the rooms and hallways that would lead her to the main auditorium.

Christine entered through one of the side doors, and gasped in horror. Her poor Opera House! Its heart had been completely destroyed, blackened and cut. Only a few chairs remained from the audience seating, discarded and ash covered. There was a huge gaping hole in the ceiling, were the chandelier had been dropped viciously, and plaster and beams had fallen, causing the auditorium to look like a tornado had hit it.

The stage again was black and dishevelled, with broken backdrop supports from the roof littering it, fallen curtains and rotting beams of wood. Christine chocked back a tear as she moved up the stairs next to the stage, and stood on her former platform, looking sadly out the once grand auditorium.

Christine's heart turned slightly weak as she realised how dark it actually was, and inconveniently remembered how many people had died here only a few months before. She could hear the faint flapping of wings and cooing from birds aloft, and every so often the crumbling sound of some plaster falling from the roof. She had been stood there now for over 20 minutes, and was beginning maybe she had misinterpreted the message.

Maybe he hadn't wanted her to come out? Maybe he was just reminding her he was safe without giving anything away.

Her heart leaped suddenly with a noise directly behind her from backstage. It was a quiet noise, but she had been so on edge, all her senses were tingling horribly.

She squinted in the darkness, unable to see or hear a lot. Except…

A figure stepped out of the shadows and onto the side stage, tall and heavily cloaked. It raised its head and suddenly was winded, with a large collision with its chest.

Erik held Christine tightly, who buried her head into his cloak and shirt, breathing in his masculine scent, the one that she had so nearly forgotten from spending so much time away from him. It drowned her senses, making her deaf to the mutterings of her lover.

"Oh Christine…my love…my angel."

He pushed her slightly from his chest and raised her chin with his gloved hand. He bore another mask, a white one, unlike his old one he had left in Persia. He had obviously been late to retrieve it from his old lair. He brought her up into a gentle kiss, so gentle that she would not fail in her emotions, gentle enough for her to come accustom to the fact he really was alive.

But Christine slid her tongue over his bottom lip, begging for more of the sweet sensations that had been so cruelly deprived of her. He immediately responded, parting lips and allowing her to take him into a deep embrace. She felt once again like a feather in his arms, which were strongly and protectively wrapped around her, his fingers curling into her hair, and her hands caressing his chest and good side of his face.

"Erik, you're here…It feels like a dream…I...but your alive!"

"Shhh," He coaxed, pressing his lips once more to hers to stop her jargon, which she often did when confused. But this time, after a few minutes, Christine backed away.

She didn't completely free herself from his grasp, as he kept two hands on the tops of her arms. Her expression was that of a dazed child, suddenly whisked off into a completely knew place, like a country child flung into the middle of a bustling city, without parents or friends. She looked him up and down, her eyes strangely suspicious for a few seconds, which passed as quickly as it had shown.

Erik watched her strange behaviour quietly. Obviously she was going to find the whole situation dazzling and confusing, but why was she looking at him like that?

"Erik…" She whispered, still sounding loud in the crippled auditorium. There was something in her voice, something daugnting, something Erik hated the sound of. It was the same tone his mother had used before explaining she had not wanted him to stay anymore, or the same tone Nasih had adopted to tell him of Christine's arrival, or the same tone the policeman had used to tell him he was to be killed…

"Erik…I have to ask you…"

She gave him one final look, a look which turned his heart cold. It was a look of fear.

"How did you escape?"

Erik gritted his teeth. He knew what this was about. He took a deep breath.

"You didn't read it in the papers?"

Christine was looking more and more savvy by the minute, as if finally it had hit her what he had done.

"What did you tell him?" She ignored his question.

"Tell who?"

"Tell the man who took your place to die!" She had tried to say it quietly, but it rang out clearly, and Erik flinched. Anyone standing in the Opera House's entrance would have heard it. He gave Christine a regretful look, and let go of her.

"I…I had no choice, Christine…you, I couldn't leave you."

She moved back a few paces now, the look of terror rising in her face even more clearly. She was breathing hard, and biting nails from one hand.

Then she cut Erik hard. She made his soul quiver and his heart falter, just by one look. He hated her for having so much power over him, in one snap of a finger he would come running. But there was no request for him that moment.

Her look was that of pure disgust.

"You threatened him, didn't you?"

Erik remained silent, breathing through his nose steadily and keeping his cat like eyes on Christine.

"You threatened him to take your place to give you enough time to escape…didn't you? What did you threaten him with?"

"Christine…"

"WHAT DID YOU THREATEN HIM WITH?"

He didn't flinch this time. He just kept his unblinking stare on her, waiting, ever waiting for her to bolt from that door…and out of his life. Either she would except what he had to do, or she wouldn't…even turning himself in seemed like a good idea if it was the latter. He had no choice but to tell her.

"I…I swore I would not rest till I found every last member of his family…unless I saw him die…"

Christine had placed a knowning hand over her mouth and clenched her eyes shut at the truth. Tears ran down her face and over her hand. He didn't even have to finish about what he had threatened him about his family. Erik would have had to go into a lot of gruesome detail for the man to feel completely terrified into taking his own life for them.

"What do you want?"

Christine turned to him, her eyes wide with fright and horror. She knew Erik was capable of such things, she had just forgotten how terrifying it actually was.

"W…What?"

"Do you want me dead?" His voice was so calm and quite, it unnerved her. She knew…knew he would never hurt her, but still…she could see in her mind the blood on his hands from so many murders.

"No! No, I don't want you dead, I just…"

"You just what?"

He placed a hand on her shoulder, but she moved out of it quickly. He felt a stab of cold pain and rejection. After all that had happened, would this be it? Had she finally realized that he wasn't the man she loved?

"Christine…"

"Erik, DON'T!"

He had once more tried to reach out for her, but she violent knocked him back. In fury, she not only threw his arm away, but pushed him furiously away from her.

She could make Erik stumble with her physical strength, but the emotions that tore through his battered heart resurfaced once again, and his throat suddenly seemed blocked, like he couldn't breathe. He looked at her dazed and hurt, but still she returned her looks of venom.

"I thought you said you wanted to lie low! I thought meeting was a bad idea! You could…you could get hanged for sure this time!"

"Is that not what you want Christine? Cause to me, it seems you think I should die for what I have done. Only out of selfishness do you want me around…yes?"

Was that it? Was that why she felt so torn? She hated what he had done, and she hated him for acting so cool about it. He had killed once again, an innocent man…how could she refuse that she didn't think he should pay? She had once before, but yet…she had regretted it.

"Mademoiselle…tell me what you want. And as always, I will act in your interest."

One again, Erik had pushed her up against the wall with only a loose both way situation. She hated him for doing it again. She felt racked with guilt for the people who suffered on her behalf, and she felt like it was her fault so many people had died. As a matter of fact, it was her fault.

And could she really love a man who had such a monstrous soul? A soul who has to kill to love?

Oh Erik, her beloved Angel! He looked so depleted, so crestfallen; she could have forgiven him and taken him back into her arms right there and then. But…her head and heart were now on a battlefield. Her head told her to leave, leave and let the man go, freeing her of the burden of others.

But her heart spoke of a love worth so much more than that. So much they had, so much shared guilt. Could they really go on without each other, and still living with guilt?

Which was the right path? To take the hand of a fallen angel and lead a life in hell, or to discard her own soul, and sacrificing it for heaven?