Hello again! Wow this might be my shortest update yet, but its 11:30 at night and I have school tomorrow, so I need some excuse to stay up. So I don't have much to say about this chapter, except it will most likely be long, and A LOT of angst. Who doesn't love that? Oh and Erik/Christine interaction. YAY! So here's another chappie, read and review!

Disclaimer: Never owned it, never will.

The Broken Wings of an Angel

Christine's eyes fluttered open at the first hint of light the scarlet sky. At first she had no inkling of where she was, but when she felt the cold stone steps against her bare flesh, she knew. The young vicomtess was thankful that she hadn't been noticed by the likes of wicked men, for she could only guess what terrible consequences could come from that. A silent prayer of thanks was sent up to the heavens as Christine tried to pull herself up the stone steps and into the Opera House.

The destruction had not changed, but it still pained Christine in unspeakable ways. The morning light that seeped through the crevices of the building showed a twisted kind of splendor, and Christine was both taken and distraught by the scene. Suddenly, Christine's memory began to take hold, and the horrific surroundings were altered to its former beauty….

"KEEP IN STEP! One two, One two…. chin up, shoulders back! You are all a disgrace! CHRISTINE! PAY ATTENTION!" Madame Giry shrieked in frustration.

Christine, a young protégé of fifteen, snapped her thoughts back into focus. It had been especially hard to concentrate lately, for the lessons with her angel have become more and more productive. She never saw the angel's face, only his voice. And what a marvelous voice it was! Christine had never heard a voice so awe-inspiring that each time she heard it a spell was cast over her very soul…it felt like she was drifting peacefully into an unknown and dangerous serenity, and yet it left Christine yearning for more. She could feel his eyes on her right then…watching her, always watching her….

"CHRISTINE!"

For the second time that day Christine snapped herself out of oblivion. "I apologize, Madame, my mind is someplace else today."

Madame Giry let out an exasperated sigh. "Go to your dormitory, Christine. You are obviously not going to get anything accomplished today, so go and rest your wandering thoughts!"

Christine responded in a polite curtsy and took her leave. She had always loved dancing, but lately the practices seemed unusually long and tedious, and Christine knew why. She had a new passion in her life, and her dancing appeared to be slipping because of it.

Singing.

Christine loved every aspect of it, pouring your soul into notes, belting out your sorrows or pain… and her angel was the only being that seemed to understand. That's why she called him her angel of music, because he was just that. She could feel his presence everywhere, when she danced, while she slept, even in dreams he was there. And yet, though frightening and strange, it made Christine feel loved, and as if she was needed. She needed her angel, but she had a bizarre suspicion that the feeling was mutual…

Finally Christine made it to her dorm, exhausted and drained from the day's practice. Letting her hair down so that it flowed gracefully past her shoulders, Christine took off her dancing slippers and stockings, exposing only her practice attire. This made Christine blush profusely, although no one was there; she had always been a firm believer in modesty. Some older girls would sneak off in the dead of night to meet with a lover, attempting vainly to stifle giggles and tiptoes. Christine always rolled her eyes at this type of behavior, for she felt that in some way, she was already taken. And yet, she couldn't put her finger on how…

"Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye… " Christine hummed the rest of the verse as she changed into her evening gown. Before lying down on her bed, however, something stopped her. Something foreign was on her pillow. Filled with curiosity, Christine bent down and picked up he object. A blood red rose, with a black silk ribbon tied around the stem. Christine's eyebrows furrowed, before she realized who had left it there…

Suddenly, a gentle breeze was sent through the room, making Christine gasp. He was there again, and she could feel it…

Christine…

A falling rafter brought Christine back to her dim reality. Oh, how she wished she could relive those days once more! Back to the days of innocence, with no phantom, no Raoul…just her angel. With a shuddering breath, Christine continued her journey. For no matter what pain or how many tears she had to endure, she had made a promise. And she had every intention of keeping it.

1

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There had been a significant change of nature in the Phantom of the Opera. During time that he would usually be spent releasing his hurt through music, or wallowing through the depths of misery, he was now pacing restlessly around his lair. Christine Daae, the reason for his every breath, had returned to him! This simply could not be, it must be some sort of cruel dream…

"I must be going mad," Erik said aloud, running his fingers through his thick black hair. " You lovesick fool, Erik, you are allowing your emotions to overcome your existence! Forget about her, she is nothing but a taunting memory…a ghost…"

But he had heard her once again the evening before, in such a melancholy song of misery; it made his very heart cry out in grief. But he did not go to her; he did not comfort her, as he should have.

"She is playing a dangerous game. She is playing with your emotions, forcing you to fall under her spell once more! Christine Daae is a wretched seductress, and nothing more. A wretched seductress who took hold of your heart and refused to let go…"

Battles were raging in the depths of Erik's soul. He could not handle this; he swore he would go insane if he saw her again. Did she even know what kind of effect she had on him? A little blush, a minuscule bat of the eyes would drive Erik to the brink of what little sanity he still possessed.

"But I suppose that is what angels are meant to do, drive away the devils that walk this earth," Erik thought menacingly. "Who could love such a face? A cursed, demonic face…"

And yet, she had dared to kiss him! Unmasked, in this very cellar one year past, she kissed him with such a passion it surprised Erik himself. He touched his lips softly, thinking back on that blessed moment, where they were the only two beings left in the world…. there was no Vicomte, no horrid face, no rejection… just Erik and his beloved sharing a kiss with mingled tears.

At this memory, Erik put his face in his hands, and he wished above anything else he could feel it, just once more. Would she even return? She had made a promise, but Erik doubted she would keep it. Christine had probably just had a dreadful fight with the Vicomte, and ran to Erik in blind despair.

The Vicomte. Erik's teeth clenched at the very thought of the man. He had taken his angel away from him; turned her against him… He could have had any woman in the world, why Christine? Why did he have to take away the one thing Erik truly cared for? With a cry of sadness, Erik brought his fist down on his organ, sobs wracking his body.

All he wanted was just one more ounce of love…that sensation could distinguish all rejection and fear, but Erik knew it would never come…

1

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Christine knew her way to the lair a little better this time, although there was the occasional trip or stumble. That look in Erik's eyes and his desperate plea for her to return was what kept her going, and she would not turn back for anything. The pure anticipation of seeing her angel once more was almost too much for Christine to bear. Her expensive dress had been torn more than once, and her hair was wild. She laughed out loud at the sight of herself, for she appeared to be nothing but a common peasant.

"Its surprising how little appearance matters when you need something so strongly," Christine thought to herself. "Wait…need? Christine, dear, you are getting much too far ahead of yourself, you are simply keeping a promise…don't let your emotions get the better of you again…"

Before Christine realized it, she was at the portcullis, peering into Erik's lair. Her arms shook violently, but this time it was from fear, not cold. The gates were strangely open, so Christine ventured in with alertness coursing through every fiber of her being. Erik was once again at his organ bench, but this time the sight tore at Christine's heartstrings. This time, her angel was crying, his face hidden in his hands.

"Er…Erik?" Christine called silently. Erik immediately shot up, his expression full of anger, but when he saw Christine, his face softened. He said nothing, his eyes focused on her face, his cheeks wet with tears.

"Oh God, Erik, angel…please forgive me," Christine stuttered, her own tears falling now. She tried to touch his face, but he turned away. Hurt was evident in Christine's face at this action, but Erik walked away from her.

"Christine, why are you here?"

Christine was quite taken aback by this question, for she had expected a warm, loving greeting with open arms…this is what she had hoped for, at least. Suddenly Christine gasped and let out a cry of pain as Erik turned on his heel swiftly and grabbed her shoulders.

"WHY ARE YOU HERE?"

Christine's entire body shook in fear at his terrifying demeanor, and tears continued to fall from her eyes.

"Erik please, just listen to me…"

"NO! You listen to ME, Christine! Do you find some sick pleasure in torturing me? Do you enjoy seeing me in agony?"

"No Erik please, you don't understand…."

"Oh I understand completely, my dear. Do you think you can walk into and out of my life as you choose? You think you can break my heart over and over again, and suffer no consequences? Do you think…?"

But Erik was never able to finish his ranting, for Christine's lips silenced him. Erik's eyes flew wide, and almost jumped back in hesitation. However, Christine slowly deepened the kiss, and began to tenderly stoke his unmasked cheek. Christine suddenly felt a surge of heat and passion run through her…something she hadn't experienced in months.

Erik, on the other hand, was in complete turmoil. She was kissing him? Oh how many nights had he dreamed of this moment, prayed for it to happen just once more…. and it was!

And it was also happening much too fast.

This time, Erik was the one who pulled away. Panting, he closed his eyes and tried to hate her, tried desperately to despise this wretched woman before him….

But he couldn't. He loved her with all his soul, there was no use denying it. But he also could not stand to be in her presence any longer. He needed to clear his mind. God, the kiss was still a blur to him…she kissed him….

"Leave, Christine."

Christine looked at him with a hurtful and flabbergasted look upon her face.

"Erik, I don't understand…"

"Go to your room, Christine. Leave me."

"But…"

"NOW!"

And with a final sob, Christine fled to her room, and slammed the door behind her. Throwing herself on the bed, she cried as she had never cried before. Why does he always push me away? Why won't he just let me love him? God in heaven help me, I love him…."

Outside Christine's door, Erik sat and felt his heart break for the thousandth time. He put his head in his hands, and he too let tears fall down his face.

"Christ, what have I done...?"