A Thrill of Hope

Ahhh! Thanks so much to my reviewers! I am soo happy you like this story. I'm so touched!

Author's Notes: Okay, it wasn't until the other night that I was reading the fic "Erik the Vampire Hunter" and realized that I used the exact same last name for Erik in my story. SO, before there is any disagreent or anything like that, Garner was just the name that popped into mind because of the mention of Jennifer Garner on TV...so please forgive me!

Chapter Two

"The Orphan"

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The room was dark and dreary, fitting the mood of its occupant perfectly.
No light shined through the covered windows; no light shined at all, save for the light from the bedside lamp. The only sounds heard were raspy breathing and quiet sobs.

The small bedside lamp cast an eerie glow over the form on the bed, the white sheets drenched in perspiration, tangled around the dying man's body. His dark brown hair was plastered to his forehead and his blue eyes were hazy with exhaustion. They were the eyes of a man who had fought a long, tiresome battle...and who was ready to surrender at last. His large, pale hand was encased in two smaller ones, the slender fingers curling into his palm. His eyes traveled to the small child's face. Oh, how she looked like her mother! Long, dark curls were pulled back, revealing a slender face that none could match. Even in her few years, the child was a great beauty, and he knew her beauty would only grow with each new moon. Her bright blue eyes-- now red from the sobs-- stared back at him, heartbreak and sorrow scattered through out them. Tears shined brightly on her pale cheeks and her chapped lips were set in a thin line...The face of a child who knew her one last tie to the world would soon depart.

Seven-year-old Christine Daae kneeled next to her father's hospital bed, her world collapsing around her as she stared at him. She knew her father would soon be dead. She may not understand all the large, medical terms the doctors used, but she knew it in her heart.

Another silent sob escaped her as she tightened her grip on her father's hand. "Why must you go, Papa," she whispered brokenly. "Why do you have to do?"

Charles Daae smiled softly. "Why does anyone have to die, Christine? It's just the way life works."

The young girl wrinkled her nose. "Well, life sucks." Charles chuckled softly, deeply detesting the word, yet pleased that even in this darkest hour, his daughter hadn't lost her fire. "But who will be there for me, Papa? Who will take care of me? Who will help me to sing? Who will play the violin at Christmas?" A broken sob escaped her. "Who will be my Papa now?"

Charles sighed and reached out with a pale, trembling hand to caress his daughter's cheek. "I will always be your papa, Christine. Just as you'll always be my Little Lotte...Not even death will change that." He wiped away her tears even as he felt his own stinging his eyes. "Christine...Do not cry for me. I have lived a good life...I've had love in my life. I loved your mother with all my heart. I had you; was able to hold you in my arms as you opened your eyes for the first time. I've heard your angelic voice in my ear, your petite laughter at the silliest things...I've been blessed. Don't cry, Christine...I can't bear it."

"I'm scared, Papa."

Charles' heart clenched in his chest. "So am I...but don't fret, Little Lotte...I promise that all will turn out alright...Do you know why?" Christine shook her head. "Because when I'm in Heaven, I am going to send an angel to you."

Christine's eyes widened at his words, awe on her face. "An angel?"

"Yes, an angel," her father nodded. "An angel of music...the most unique of all angels. I will send him to watch over you, Christine. He will guard and guide you, protect you against everything. And as you sing, Christine, he will come to you...Sing, Christine. Sing as if there were no tomorrow. For I know that when you do, your voice will reach the heavens and I will hear you." He breathed in deeply, eyes half-closing, and Christine's tears once more began to flow. "I promise...I will...send him to you, Christine...Christine...Christine..."

"Christine!"

Christine's eyes shot open at the yell of her name. Squinting against the daylight, she looked up into the bright face of her companion, who had been shaking her out of her slumber.

"Christine, we're here," Meg Giry said excitedly. "You've slept the entire ride."

Christine looked around as she pulled herself up. She was in a taxi, not a hospital. She was nineteen, not seven. Next to her sat her best friend, not her dying father.

"I was worried you wouldn't wake up," Meg went on. "I've been shaking you and calling your name for five minutes...what on earth were you dreaming about?"

Christine looked at her blonde friend. She'd known Marguerite Giry most of her life. After being sent to live with her aunt after her father's death, she had met Meg at school and the two had soon become inseperable. Over the years, they had done everything together: started high school, discussed boyfriends--or lack of them, graduated. They had encouraged each other to pursue their dreams. And though they had begun at different colleges, it had only been a matter of months before they once more found themselves school mates. They had always been honest with each other and yet, now as they sat outside the new university they would be attending together, Christine couldn't bring herself to tell her friend about the dream. Instead, she merely smiled and shook her head. "It was nothing, Meg. Just a silly dream."

Meg waited a moment before she accepted the answer. "Well...then, come on, Sleepy-head! Maman will be waiting for us!" And with that, the bubbly blonde opened the taxi door and jumped out, heading for the trunk.

Christine remained in the taxi, smiling at her friend's enthusiasm, yet her mind was still on her dream. How well she recalled that night 12 years ago...she could still feel her father's cold hand wrapped around her own, could still hear his fatherly voice. She looked out the window at the students bustling by. She had long ago abandoned the hope of finding her "Angel of Music," passing it off as a father's attempt to appease his distraught child. But she hadn't given up singing. On the contrary, she built her life around it. She took classes, practiced into the early rays of dawn, she even chose it as her major...she still believed that if she sang passionatly enough, her voice would reach her father's ears...

"Christine!"

She sighed at Meg's impatience and climbed out of the taxi, walking towards the driver and her friend. She took the suitcase and duffelbag from his extended hands and murmured her thanks. Pushing a chesnut curl behind her ear, she turned to face the university that loomed before her. In her mind, "huge" didn't even begin to describe it. Why on earth did I agree to come here, she wondered. And then she remembered.

Because it was the university her father had wanted her to go to. He had said it was the best place for her gift to be appreciated and expand-- that it wouldn't be long before she would outrank the vocal professors themselves.

When her application for admission had been denied, she had been heartbroken. She had wanted to bring joy to her father--and to herself--by doing what he always dreamed she would do; by going where he had dreamed she would go. She had gone with a smaller university where she had excelled in her vocal courses. She'd been the leading soprano in concerts and productions, singing for hundreds of people--which was how she had come to be here. A representative from the fine arts department had been in attendance at a concert and, after being blown away by her performance in Aida, had approached her with a scholarship opportunity.

She had seen it as her father giving her a hand.

Now here she stood, her fingers tightening on the handles of her luggage as she stared at the campus that loomed before her.

"Meg!"

Christine turned at the delighted exclamation and watched as a familiar woman walked towards them, a smile on her face. She held out her arms to Meg and the blonde girl quickly dropped her bags and rushed into them. "Maman, it's so good to see you," she exclaimed, her arms encircling her mother's neck.

"Oh, welcome back, my daughter," Antoinette Giry said softly, placing a kiss on Meg's cheek. "You've been greatly missed."

Christine watched the exchange with a melancholy heart. This was one thing she'd never had--a parent's loving embrace at your return. Yes, after a weekend away from home, her father had always greeted her with a quick, affectionate hug and a peck on the cheek. But she had watched from afar as Meg's mother had cried and hugged her daughter at graduation, murmuring her pride and love; she'd watched brokenly at the tears that were shed when Meg left for college in England...and she envied the tears that were to come when Meg would one day wed.

Christine would never get to experience such things. Her aunt Josephine had shed no tears as she stiffly hugged Christine on graduation day, and she had been nowhere to be seen the day she left for college. No one would be there to walk her down the aisle the day of her wedding; no father to tearfully say the words, "I do," when asked who would give her away...

She felt the sting of tears in her eyes, but quickly brushed them away when Antoinette turned her attention towards her. "Christine Daae, my dear...it's been far too long," she said, walking over to embrace the girl gently. Christine sat down her luggage and welcomed the woman into her arms. She smiled.

"Hey, Madame Giry."

Antoinette pulled back slightly and cradled Christine's face in her hands, brushing a few unruly curls away. "Welcome to your new home, my girl," she said in that motherly tone that Christine had come to cherish. "Now, come! Let's get you both settled in and then I'll give you a grand tour." She turned away, motioning for the girls to follow. Christine sighed and slung her duffelbag over her shoulder.

"It's a madhouse in there, Chris," Meg said, smiling as she retrieved her luggage from where they sat at her feet. "Are you ready for this?"

Christine smiled. "As ready as I'll ever be." The two friends smiled at each other and Christine bent to pick up her suitcase. She straightened and frowned at the stiffness of her friend's posture and the stern expression on her face. "Meg?"

A hint of a smile appeared on Meg's face before she motioned with her hand. "If you will, Mdle. Daae," she said, and Christine grinned. Meg was imitating her mother's "teacher-vibe," as they had affectionately called it. She bowed down low and waved her arm for her friend to lead. Meg flounced into the building, her tingling laughter ruining her act. Giggling, Christine followed her friend closely, closing her eyes as she entered the building. This is for you, Papa..

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Unbeknownst to her, two pairs of eyes watched Christine from opposite ends of the campus. One pair was hidden beneath a black leather mask, staring at her in awe and adoration. They watched as the door closed behind her, their owner questioning if he had truly seen an angel enter the building.

The other pair, however, was hidden only by the shadow of the tree their owner leaned against, watching with a sick fascination at the brown haired beauty, a murderous gleam beginning to emerge as they marked their next target.

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Alright...there's chapter two...I think it kinda stunk there towards the end...who knows...it's the last full week of school...I appear to be slacking in everything. Please, please, PLEASE review and let me know what you think!