To Live Again 2

Disclaimer- See first chapter.

Author's Note- In deference to the beautiful spirit of Erik which I wholeheartedly believe in, my Erik is a perfect blend of our favorite Phantoms: the flawless voice of Leroux's Phantom, the beauty that no mortal being shall ever parallel (Though I believe Josh Groban could come close,(he's kind of what I hear in my head when I read the book, only more mature) and Michael Crawford, who did come very close.), Michael Crawford-Phantom's general appearance and mask, with Leroux-Phantom's golden eyes and sexy long fingers (Please don't judge me. Musician's hands on a guy are just sort of a fetish for me.). In the way of character, he's a blend of Kay-Phantom, Leroux-phantom, and Crawford Phantom.

Forget the movie. Really, completely forget it. It was terrible, though not as bad as the 'horror movie' version. The cartoon was even better than that. The one with Charles Dance was decent.

For those of you who don't know, the Phantom is forty-nine years old, and, yes, this will come up in my story.

I don't care who you picture for Raoul, as his character will be made clear. He's not a bad guy, just young, inexperienced, and hopelessly inept. I don't approve of Christine's choice, but I can work with it. I liked the chemistry between Sarah Brightman's Christine and Michael Crawford's phantom, so in terms of looks, picture her, but with blonde hair. She is, after all, Scandinavian. I know this is a long note, but it will clear a lot of things up, and I thank you for your patience.

This story is dedicated to my two best friends, Adam and Heather, who have always been very supportive. I wish you two the best of luck with your future together.

And a special thank you to LoverofBalto! You rock!

"Opera Ghost? Are you there?"

Deep in his underground home, he heard a call. A woman's voice.

Curious again, he went to it, crossing the lake.

At the entrance the cellars was the woman from a month ago. Joelle. He never expected to see her again. She was dressed in a simple, well-made sapphire blue dress with a high, button up neck. Her thick black hair was pulled into a thick braid that hung down her back. She smiled when she saw him, and her entire face lit up.

"Monsieur Opera Ghost." She said warmly, "I was afraid I'd never see you again." Her blue eyes gleamed in the semi-darkness.

"Did you want to see me?" He asked, intrigued.

"Very much. I owe you so much. You saved me, my brother…my sanity." She said softly, "How can I possibly thank you?"

He was surprised. "I…" He sighed, "Joelle, I have much in my past to atone for. Consider what I did merely a part of my redemption. Was that all you wanted to say?"

She shook her head and handed him his coat, "Thank you for that as well. It's been cleaned, so there's no blood on it."

"Thank you for returning it."

He expected her to leave then.

He really did.

But she still stood there, looking at him. He felt rather uncomfortable and terribly self-conscious. One hand raised of its own accord, going to the mask over the right side of his face. "Am I really so hideous?" He asked, getting angry and embarrassed.

Her eyes widened, "Oh! No, of course not. Quite the opposite, in fact. I… wanted to memorize you… in case I never see you again. You aren't going to disappear on me, are you, Monsieur Ghost?"

His anger dissipated. "Oh… well, no. I'm just surprised you haven't left, though."

"I was hoping… maybe we could talk? Everyone at home is so smothering, so protective. They treat me as if I'll break or disappear. I know they mean well, and Father blames himself for my being kidnapped, but it's just too much. I just want to forget about it! But… not about you. You were my angel that night… my champion… I wanted to get to know you. I have so few friends here in France after having been gone so many years."

"We… we could talk. If you really want to." He looked back in the direction from which he had come, then held out a hand. "Do you trust me, Joelle?" He asked.

She took it without hesitation. "Always. After all, you're my Guardian Angel." She said, following him.

"I'm no angel." He murmured, leading her through the cellars. "Nor am I really a ghost. I am only a man."

"What… do you want me to call you?" she asked gently.

"My name… is Erik."

"That's a nice name."

They walked in silence until they reached the lake. Erik carefully helped her into the boat, and she smiled and called him a gentleman, which made him smile.

Soon, they were sitting in his study. He was feeling distinctly awkward, but she was smiling.

"So…" He began, "How have you been?"

"As good as can be expected, I suppose. I know it's ridiculous, but I still look over my shoulder sometimes."

"About that…" He sighed, "I should have told you this right away, Joelle, but when I returned, there was no body… Rojer was gone."

Her face paled, "P..please say you jest…"

"I wish I could. At the time, I was too worried about you and your brother to see if he was really dead or only faking."

"Oh… oh god! He's still out there!" One hand went absent-mindedly to the angry red marks on her wrists. Another thought occurred to her and horror gripped her. "Oh Erik! What if he comes after you? Rojer's a vengeful man and he must have seen you!"

"I'm alright." He assured her, touched, "I can defend myself. Besides, it's you he'll go after. I know that mindset."

"I'm sorry you had to get involved in this..." She murmured.

"I'm not. I'm glad I met you, Joelle."

"I could kiss you, Erik, I really could." She smiled at him.

"I…wouldn't stop you." He replied nervously.

So she got up and hugged him, kissing him shyly on the lips. On impulse, he wrapped his arms around her, gently pulling her into his lap. She melted into his arms, snuggling close.

"I feel so safe with you." She whispered, laying her head on his shoulder. "I wish I could freeze this moment forever."

Erik was surprised at the sudden situation. He hadn't expected this to happen; his lonely soul had simply sought affection in the only form it had come.

"Do you love me, Joelle?" He asked shyly. 'I'm not ready for this. And she really isn't in the condition to make rational decisions.'

"I don't know." She admitted, "I don't really know what that kind of love feels like. But whatever this is, it's all tingly and fuzzy and warm. Like a big blanket, but inside. I kind of like it."

Unable to respond, he closed his eyes. 'She is nice.' Came an unbidden thought, 'but what will she say when she gets to know the real you?'

"Erik?"

"Hmm?"

"Why do you hide your face?"

"Because I must. You would not like me very much if you saw what I hide." 'Well done,' Said a nagging little voice, 'A double entente. Perhaps even a triple.'

"Someday, I hope you'll let me be the judge of that." Joelle whispered.

"You should probably go now." He replied, protective instincts screaming warnings. "Your family is probably worried about you." Bitterness crept into his voice as he said this.

Joelle quickly crawled away from him, eyes glittering with tears. "You're probably right, Monsieur."

He felt a stab of regret as he watched her walk away from the entrance to the cellars. Forcing it down, he turned around and went back. Back into his world of darkness.

"It's better this way." He muttered. "I still love Christine, and I always will. I shouldn't have encouraged her just because I was lonely."

Against his will, some part of him reminded how nice it felt to be held, wanted, loved.

"But it was a lie. She doesn't know the real me."

And whose fault is that?

"On what honor I have left, all I can in good conscience give her is my friendship. She's young, she's been in a convent with limitted experience with men; those feelings will fade. She'll meet someone young, brave, someone who can appreciate her."

And I'll just stay here, alone as usual, until, one day, friendship is not enough to make her come back. Perhaps I'll tell her to leave. Perhaps it will simply be too much to bear, seeing her with a happy life, a husband, children…things I could never have.

He sighed, heading back home, anticipating a long, depressing, lonely night.

As usual.

Two days later, a very depressed Joelle was lurking in the library, morosely paging through Plato's Republic. She didn't see the pages in front of her, but wanted to appear completely calm. 'Have I offended him? He's so different from anyone I've ever met… I have no idea how to act.'

"What's bothering you, Sis?" A voice said.

She looked up.

"You are not supposed to be up, Dom." She said, "Why are you here?"

"I got bored. Besides, I'm worried about you. First you were all misty eyed and daydreaming for weeks and then you turn all depressed since two days ago. What's going on?" He asked, settling carefully on the couch next to her.

"It's nothing."

"You've never kept secrets from me." He said sadly.

"This time I must. Suffice it to say that I was turned down by a man."

"You? Was he drunk?"

"He doesn't seem the type to ever drink. I kissed him, we were sitting together and things seemed so good, but then I asked about his past and he told me to leave."

"Ah. His loss then." Dom decided.

"Then why does it hurt so badly?" She asked, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Love hurts. Remember when we were younger, I was head over heels for that girl we met in the woods?"

She nodded, "Quite literally; she tossed you into a rain barrel, as I recall."

He chuckled, "We were only meant to be friends. I was too young to catch on very quickly, but once I did, things got easier to bear." He thought a minute, "Oh, and I should warn you, cousin Raoul and his new wife will be coming to visit. Father said they should be arriving today, he wanted it to be a surprise."

"Oh joy. As if this week couldn't get any worse. The man never quite grew up. Last time I saw him he was quite a… a…" She wasn't used to insulting people. The nuns had frowned upon it. Discipline in a convent was strict. "A fop." She muttered.

"You really shouldn't speak so of family." Dom scolded, "Even if it's true." He snickered, "Fop? Time was that you could have thought of something much nastier!"

"I'm out of practice. The nuns were… stern."

He laughed, "Oh, you'll bounce back. Besides, maybe if you weren't so nice to him growing up, he wouldn't follow you around!"

"Well, sometimes he's ok, but I don't have the patience to deal with him right now."

"Cousin Joelle!" Raoul pulled her into a hug, "Why, it's been so long!"

"Yes, I know." She said overly calmly.

He seemed oblivious to her annoyance, "You remember Christine, right?"

"Yes." Joelle smiled at the other woman.

"We heard about what happened, Joelle." Christine said. "I'm very sorry you had to go through that."

"It was pretty awful." Joelle's voice dropped and her smile became more forced.

"Who would have ever thought Rojer would turn out like that?" Raoul remarked, "He's gone absolutely insane!"

"He's been insane for six years." Joelle replied dryly, "Or at least, that's how long I've known it. He killed my mother, remember? Your aunt."

"Tell me, the man who rescued you," Christine began, "The one who asked you not to tell anyone about him… Was there anything unusual about him? Do you know why he would be in the Opera House after dark?"

Joelle fumbled, "Unusual? Unusual how? I don't remember anything that comes to mind! He asked me not too tell who he was because he had snuck into the Opera House on a dare. You know, they say it's haunted. He was supposed to spend the night to prove his bravery, but he didn't want to be in trouble for being where he shouldn't be."

"Oh."

"Any reason for asking?"

"Well, you know I had a very bad experience there, too." Christine murmured.