Author's Note: There is no excuse for my lack of updating other than I'm a freshman in college and I'm a lot busier than I thought I would be! I'm so so so so sorry and I'm going to stick with this story from now on!

Chapter 10: You Never Belonged

How could the sun keep on rising and setting, how could the world keep turning, and how could the stars keep shining at night, when Christine's world was so full of sorrow? Birds still sang with their simple joy, children still laughed as they ran in the street, completely oblivious to the pain that certainly would befall them as they grew older and lost their innocence, as Christine had lost hers.

The funeral Mass was solemn, with incense filling the expansive church, and a choir singing hymns somberly. Christine couldn't listen, she couldn't even pray. She sat in the first pew beside the de Chagny's, and she could feel Raoul's mother staring at her throughout the entire liturgy. But she didn't care. Christine felt so small, like she was being swallowed up by the church, Paris, the world. Raoul had been her light, and without him she was helplessly lost in the darkness.

She stood and sat methodically but thoughtlessly, every single movement that she made, from the slight twitching of her fingers, to the automatic straightening of her shoulders, reminded her of Raoul, and how he was gone. It was more than simple pain, more than just an ever present ache. She couldn't describe it, would it kill her to do so? Would it push her over the edge of the fragile threshold that defined what she could bear and what would break her? If she wasn't broken already, Christine couldn't even imagine what it would be like to be broken, for what could be worse than this pain?

Raoul's mother had a vice like grip on her arm. She pulled her along, and Christine half-wanted to shake her off, pull herself together, and walk with her head held high and proud for the man her husband had been. She wanted to be strong for him. When she tried to focus her eyes, she couldn't, when she tried to walk, she stumbled, and when she tried to speak, all that came out was a choked gasp. Her mother-in-law whirled to face her, suddenly, pulling her behind the column and falling back from the group that had begun to walk towards the carriages and to the cemetery. Her aged and worn face close to Christine's own, she spoke fiercely, tightening her death grip on Christine's frail arm.

"Pull yourself together, girl," she whispered caustically. "I don't care what feelings you let yourself believe that you have, and neither do all of these people. They are here for piece of mind, to let themselves believe that they've done their duty so they can move on with their lives and forget about Raoul de Chagny and the poor waif that he was deluded into marrying." Christine gasped again in horror, her tear-exhausted eyes filling yet again. "Stop with the theatrics, it's not going to bring him back, or undo the damage you've done to his reputation. You couldn't even let him die with the honor he deserved as a Chagny, but in the little hovel you called your home, keeping him all to yourself, down to his very last breath." She moved closer to Christine with every word, her nails digging into Christine's arm, and her own eyes hiding behind bitter tears.

"Why are you saying this?" Christine finally whispered in horror, her face pale underneath her black veil. When would she run out of tears?

"Because every word of it is true, and everyone here knows it, except for you, you naïve little child. You've been deceiving yourself for far too long. You never belonged in this family, and you never belonged with my son." With those words that reverberated endlessly through Christine's mind, the Countess pulled Christine sharply towards the door of the cathedral and out into the sunlight.

Something inside of her snapped. She did not say another word to the woman who was so clearly using her own pain to make herself feel better for never making things right with her son. At least Christine was able to realize this, and not take the Countess' words to heart. Or at least she told herself she wasn't taking the words to heart. Still, she couldn't stop shaking throughout the carriage ride, and her slight and unnoticeable shudders had grown slightly more convulsive by the time they arrived at the cemetery. The Chagny moratorium was located at a central location in the cemetery, and Christine couldn't bear the thought of Raoul being exiled to that cold and unforgiving structure.

"Raoul isn't really in that box," she told herself silently as she stood, unmoving, before the casket once again. "He's in a place endlessly better than this, enjoying eternal glory in Heaven, for why wouldn't his soul find rest there? He was so pure and good, altruistic, and loving-" she stopped herself, feeling the grief that would send her to the ground in hysterics creeping up on her once again. She prayed, as she had constantly been praying, for the soul of her husband, and for the strength to somehow forgive the people that were making her miserable now.

Just at the moment where Christine was feeling more alone than she had felt in her life, even after the death of her father, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Turning, as if in a daze, she found herself looking into the understanding eyes of Madame Giry. In an instant, the older woman had folded Christine into her arms, as she did so many years ago when Christine was only a child, trying to hide her sobs behind her hands as she left her home, and her dead father behind. "Oh, Christine, my poor child, ma fille, ma petite fille," she whispered consolingly, stroking Christine's covered hair, her other hand rubbing her back gently.

"Not here, Madame Giry, not in front of them," Christine said softly and desperately, pulling away, and wiping away the tears that had finally escaped freely and cleansingly.

"Meg is here too, cherie. Come, your obligations here have ended." She took Christine by the hand, a mirror image of what had occurred so many years before. Christine glanced back nervously at the Chagnys for a moment, before deciding that this was the last time she would see them, and the last time they would see the one person Raoul had wanted with him when he left the world, and the one person he had trusted above all others.

Madame Giry had the Opera House's carriage with her, Christine noticed after she had already allowed herself to be helped inside of it. Before she had a chance to say anything to Madame Giry, Meg had thrown her arms around her best friend, and kissed her on both cheeks.

Meg's exclamation of: "Oh Christine, I love you so much!" was all that needed to be said. Christine hugged her friend back, remembering how Meg had comforted her, made her laugh, and entertained her with stories of life in the opera house after her father had died, but somehow, sadly, she knew that it wouldn't be the same this time. No simple story would make her forget that Raoul had died in her arms, and that she was going to have t live the rest of her life without him.

"Where are we going, Madame Giry," Christine asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her head resting almost in Meg's lap, as her friend had removed her hat and veil and was stroking her hair and wiping away her tears.

"Just somewhere you can spend the night and stay until you can stand on your feet, child, don't worry." Madame Giry's voice was more soothing than Christine had ever thought it could be, and the rhythm of the carriage and Meg's comforting hand on her head lulled her to sleep before she could even protest returning to the Opera House for the first time in four years.

A/N: Sorry that it's so short, I promise that the next chapter will have more to it, this one needed to be a filler. Please, please, please review if you want me to update. anything is acceptable, even one word. Thank you!