The dark clouds that hung overhead swelled with rain. Thunder rumbled in the distance, threatening the fury of the approaching storm. Henriette stood under the balcony at the front of the de Chagny manor, awaiting the return of her master. The entire household was moving around frantically, like bees in a hive. They had received notice, instructing them that all must be prepared for the Vicomte's return; he must be kept calm and relaxed. No mention of his wife should be made, at least not for several weeks. It could upset him enough to plunge him back into delirium. Anything that belonged to her had been removed and placed in the cellar- clothes, jewelry, paintings, anything that could remind the suffering Vicomte of her.

The asylum's carriage clamored through the mud as the downpour suddenly fell upon them. Raoul emerged from inside, his skin pale, his eyes sunken. Henriette covered her mouth, trying to prevent the shocked gasp from escaping. She reached forward and offered him her arm for support. She thanked the driver as she led Raoul inside the house.

"You look very thin, Monsieur," she said as she helped him to a seat, her voice a sad whisper. "I shall bring you something to eat immediately."

Raoul looked around the room as though he were seeing it for the first time. He had become so accustomed to his surroundings in the asylum that his aristocratic home felt foreign to him. He clumsily stumbled through dinner, his proper manners all but disappeared. After he had eaten, Henriette took him upstairs where a bath was prepared. Raoul soaked in the water for almost an hour, his thoughts drifting uncontrollably. One moment he was thinking about the asylum, the next it was a memory of learning to ride a horse.

"My poor Christine," he cried softly, his mind finally settling on his lost wife. "I would give anything to face death in your stead."

Minutes later, he was standing out on the balcony, the rain soaking through his clothes. He looked down over the edge. How easy it would be to just let himself go. What did he have left here to live for? They had taken his son, God had taken his wife. Raoul placed a hand on the rail, his resolve to jump becoming greater. Suddenly, his gold cufflink broke free of his sleeve and fell to the ground. His eyes followed as it weaved through the room, disappearing under the bed. Raoul walked towards it, dropping to his hands and knees. His eyes fell upon a small wooden box. He picked it up and sat on the bed with it in his lap. He wiped his hand across the top, clearing away the dust. Inside he found some sheet music and a program from the Opera Populaire. Something stirred in Raoul's memory, something about the Opera house. And Christine. Slowly the fog in his mind began to lift. He had seen her, he was sure of it. They had believed him to be insane, but Raoul knew he was right. That monster had her trapped, and he was the only one who knew it. Raoul took off like lightning to the stables, his only thoughts those of his wife's rescue.

Without hesitation he burst into the Opera Populaire, drawing the attention of all inside. He moved quickly past them, barely even noticing their presence. Raoul prepared himself for Christine's despairing screams as he once again approached the place which held his deepest fear. He listened carefully and thought he could hear the sound of laughter. Surely this was one of the Phantom's infamous tricks. There could be no laughter in the depths of hell. Raoul closed his eyes tightly, trying to adjust to the darkness. When he opened them again, the sight that lay before him nearly threw him back. Christine sat in a large armchair, reading to their son and giggling joyously. Raoul felt his world spinning, and he was losing his balance.

"Christine?" he called out in heartrending confusion.

Christine looked up from the pages, her eyes going wide and her mouth dropping. "Raoul?"

Without any thought or knowledge on her part, the name had escaped Christine's lips. She recognized that face, she knew that voice. Her eyes still locked with Raoul's, she moved her son from her lap to the chair and slowly approached the man before her. She reached an apprehensive hand up to his face, tracing the curves with her fingers. His hand captured hers and brought it down to his chest.

"Do you feel it?" he asked, his voice pained.

He saw realization spread across her face as she answered softly, "It beats to the same time as mine."

"It's almost as if we share the same heart," he finished for her.

"Oh, Raoul," she buried her face in his chest, her tears falling freely.

Raoul smiled brightly into her hair and let out a relieved sigh. He couldn't believe that he was really holding her in his arms. Christine clung to him tightly, when he was suddenly ripped from her embrace. Erik had wrapped his Punjab lasso tightly around Raoul's neck and pulled him back. He now had Raoul on his knees, the rope becoming dangerously tighter. Christine was shocked at how calm, almost happy Erik was as he slowly took Raoul's life from him. She dashed off into the Louis-Philippe room, frantically tossing trunks and boxes until she found what she had been searching for. Raoul's face was becoming blue, and darkness threatened to overcome him. He was granted reprieve when a shot rang out through the lair. Raoul was breathing rapidly, pulling himself back from the edge of death. Both men looked up in amazement as Christine brandished the pistol she had found. The loud noise frightened Christophe, who had retreated behind his mother's dress.

"Let him go, Erik," she said forcefully through her tears.

"Christine, you don't know what you are saying. I must end this now."

"You would kill me before my wife and son?" Raoul growled.

"They are mine now. You don't deserve them," Erik replied in a cold voice.

"I remember, Erik. I remember everything. My marriage, all that happened before it, all the lies you told me since I returned here," Christine spoke again. "Why?" the confused pain with which he had once spoken those words now resonated in her voice.

"I have no explanation that will satisfy you," he answered. "I loved you. But that was never enough for you, was it? You left me no other choice."

"All my life, Erik," she said, her whole body trembling. "ALL MY LIFE! All you've ever done is deceive me. You lied to me because you loved me? Did you ever consider that I would come to you willingly? I loved you," her voice slowly died down, "I did."

Raoul's heart shattered, listening to his wife's heartfelt confession. So she had loved him. Raoul had been his replacement. She couldn't have what she wanted, so she had married him. All those nights, she had probably wished that it was Erik who was embracing her.

"But it was all a lie. You made me believe something that wasn't real. I found someone who I could really love, who could love me back. And there were no deceptions, no darkness. You tried to take that from me, and I hated you for it."

The knife that had plunged itself into Raoul's heart now turned itself upon Erik. Both men listened in raptured silence as Christine's thoughts and emotions fell freely with her tears.

"He could never know the passionate love that we shared," Erik said, glaring down at Raoul.

"I don't need someone who will allow their obsession for me cloud their judgment, someone who believes that murder and threats are acceptable in the pursuit of love. I need someone who will love me even after passion fades, someone who doesn't want to possess me but share a life with me. You tried to possess me; you tried to force my love. In doing that, do you realize what you stole from me? After that night, I couldn't bear to be with other people yet I was terrified to be alone. I couldn't even let my own fiancé touch me!"

Christine stopped speaking, her sobs overwhelming her. Suddenly a calm stillness came over her. "You have haunted me long enough. I will not suffer any more guilt over what has happened to you. You brought this upon yourself." The gun still in her hand, she scooped Christophe up into her arms. "I am taking my family and we are leaving this place," she said forcefully.

Erik's hands once again pulled on the noose that held Raoul captive. "This is your family now. Soon you will forget he ever existed."

Christine looked Erik defiantly in the eye and pointed the gun directly at his head. "Let him go."

With a quick motion, Erik released the lasso from Raoul's neck. Raoul's blue eyes sparkled as they once again met Christine's. In every book he'd ever read, or story he'd ever been told, poetic words always flowed easily between the reunited lovers. But all Raoul could manage to say was simply, "I love you."

Christine closed her eyes, savoring the words and the voice which, for months, she had heard only in her dreams. She turned one last time to look at Erik, the warmth in her face now faded. "I never wish to see you again. Just leave us be."

Raoul gently took hold of her arm and led her out of the lair. Erik stood in stunned silence long after they had left. "Christine?" he called out into the emptiness. He would have endured a thousand years of her angry screams just for the sake of hearing her voice. The desolate silence to which he was now subjected was torture. For a brief moment he had experienced the height of elation, and in one day it had been taken from him. He was once again alone.

A/N: I'm not done with this yet so don't give up on me! Thanks again for all the reviews. Keep 'em coming!