Author's Note: Here I am again, second chapter up in two days! I'm on a roll :) Thank you to everyone who reviewed my story! Cookies for you all! Throws cookies. Again, I do not own anything except for the story concept. The characters, the original plot, nothing belongs to me. Oh, and Montchauvet is a real town in France, near Paris! So sit back, relax, have a coke and read away!

Breaking Down

Chapter 1: Till there was you.

Christine stood outside of the Opera house, amazed that the building still stood when it should have been nothing more than firewood. Granted, it was no longer the beautiful building it was first seen as, but still, it could easily be fixed. She only hoped that the rest of the building was as sturdy as the outside.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the few strands of chestnut hair out of her face and took a step towards her past. She could still feel the way her heart slammed against her chest the first night she had been brought to the ballet school, and it didn't relinquish it's torture on her body at that moment either. She made her way around to the side of the building, the entrance she had used many times before when she was studying. She would have taken the front entrance, but it had boards across the doors, a large sign hanging stated "closed for renovations."

Pulling on the handle, she found it to be a little harder than anticipated. Bracing herself and using her weight, she pulled even harder, when finally the door released its hold on the building with a loud creak.

"Finally," She sighed.

Taking a peek into the door, she found it to be very dark. Of course, with no lights at all, it would be dark. She grumbled at her own ignorance, and continued into the structure. It took a moment for her eyes to fix themselves in the dark, but it took her lungs even longer to get used to the dust and smell of old burnt wood. Covering her mouth, her coughs echoed through the levels of the opera house. Looking up, it seemed as if the place really hadn't changed. All it really needed was a few renovations and a paint job, a new chandelier of course, and it could be open again for business.

Tracing her fingers along one of the chairs, she made her way towards her old dressing room. Walking along the corridors brought back many memories, and most were happy ones. She thought back to when she had first heard Erik's voice, her angel. Most children would have been scared, thought it to be a monster in their closet, but she knew it to be much more than that. Her father had said of an angel, and there he had been. Her mind then floated to the first time she sang for him, the way he closed his eyes to listen to her voice and almost looked as if he were begging her to continue once she had stopped. Smiling, she stepped around the fallen pieces of the hall and ventured deeper into the darkness.

The building felt very cold, and very empty. Christine could always feel when her Phantom was watching her, and now she wished he was there watching her, instead of the feeling that nothing was there with her. To make herself feel better, she began to hum. By the time she had reached the door to her dressing room, she was quietly singing an old song that she realized, she hadn't sung in months.

"Say you want me with you, here beside you. Anywhere you go," She stopped.

She realized she wasn't singing the song she had shared with Raoul, but with someone else. During Don Juan Triumphant, the song he had sung to her when he cradled her in his arms. She fought back tears as the sensations returned to her, his warmth, his smell, his voice. Shaking her head, she pushed open the door and slowly walked in. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes spanned the room.

Three months, had it really been three months? Erik sat back in his chair as he watched the flames dance in the fireplace. For such a big flame, strangely enough he felt cold. Today was her wedding day, he had read it in the paper, which was now fuel for the burning fire. The house he was staying in was quiet, and he welcomed the silence. For once, he didn't have to worry about other people and their problems, or what they would say about the suspicious man in the mask.

He had come across this estate all thanks to the help of Madame Giry. After leaving the opera house that awful evening, he had ended up a broken man. Hiding in the shadows, just like when he was a boy, tortured to play the devils child. He had wandered from place to place, trying to find some sort of shelter from the rain and other elements. When he had finally given up any chance of surviving, he had found himself back at the small chateau of Madame Giry. He wasn't sure if she had been the one to betray him, but by now, he was used to that kind of treatment. She had opened the door to find him disheveled, wet and starving. Welcoming him to her home, she had cleaned him up, given him food, and discussed his future. That was when she mentioned a family estate that no one ever used any more. Most of her estranged family had died, and she knew that she and Meg had no use of it. Gladly accepting the offer, Erik had begun a new chapter in his life.

The chateau was just outside of Paris, near a small village called Montchauvet. The residence was large enough for one man, it had 8 bedrooms, a great room, a dinning hall, 7 bathrooms and a small, yet lovely garden outside. Erik really didn't have much to bring with him, except his music. It made moving in quiet easy. The settling in, on the other hand, was becoming more of a challenge.

Three months, he thought. It's no small wonder I haven't gone insane from the silence of these long days.

Standing up, he began to pace the floor.

"The garden," He said aloud to himself. "I have yet to explore the garden."

Grabbing his cloak and placing his mask over his face, he walked down the hallway, through the door, and out into the fresh air. It looked as if it was going to rain, but that wouldn't stop him, not today. He may have hated the rain before, but he hated solitude even more.

He looked around the landscape, noting the small labyrinth of bushes. Small indeed, not even big enough to get lost in.

"What's the point?" He asked. What good was a labyrinth if you couldn't lose someone, or even yourself, in it?

Taking a step towards the garden, he listened to the sounds of everything around him. That's what he had done when he had first come to the opera house, listened. As a boy, he would smile at the sounds of the girls laughing and dancing above him. Only when he had reached his teenage years had he started to venture into the rafters and the hidden passageways. That was when he had realized he could become a part of the world that so quickly rejected him.

Turning into the first corner of the labyrinth, his mind then ventured to later days. Days of the ballerinas and first meetings. The day he laid his eyes on her, on his Christine. What is her name, he had ask Giry, where is she from, can she sing. He had been so full of questions it had surprised the older woman. Over time, he began to watch her carefully, learn about her talents, and soon took on the identity of Angel of Music. But he was no angel, he reminded himself, far from it. The things he had done, the people he had hurt, and for what, to end up alone and silently cursing himself.

The cold breeze and the sound of a bird brought Erik out of his trance of memories. Looking up he suddenly realized that he was now facing a wall of leaves and branches. Turning around he came to a sudden halt. Was it left, or had he come from the right?

"Damn," He sighed.

Christine's breath caught in her throat as her eyes took in the sight before her. Everything, including the mirror, had been destroyed. Fabric was torn, chairs and tables had been smashed to pieces, and the mirror that led to the caverns below was now on the floor, shards of glass lay everywhere. She knew instantly who had done it.

"Oh Erik," She sighed. "What did I do to you?"

She couldn't help but shed tears at the sight of such anger, such emotion. She had seen the hurt and pain when she had left him that night. It had broken her heart when she had come back to give him the ring. The look on his face, it almost appeared as if he had thought she had come back for him. She realized that she had, she had only made the wrong decision of not staying. Looking down, she noticed shriveled rose peddles on the floor amongst the glass shards. It was then that she also noticed the black satin ribbon, and the…

"No," She cried. Sliding down to her knees, her hand came to rest on the small object under the ribbon. "I'm sorry."

Christine began to cry as she brought the engagement band to her lips.

"I'm so sorry, Erik."

She suddenly realized that time was against her. She knew that he was upset that night, but now, after so many months, would he still accept her? She wouldn't be surprised if he hated her. But no matter what, she knew she had to tell him exactly how she felt. No matter what.

Grabbing the ribbon, she threaded it through the band, and tied it around her slender neck. Making sure that it was secure, she pushed against the ground and got back to her feet. It was then that she realized she had pricked her finger on a piece of glass. Staring down at the tiny droplet or rouge, it only reminded her of the roses she had received so many nights ago. That only made her resilience to find Erik even stronger.

Stepping through the remnants of the mirror, she made her way down the dark tunnel, in hopes of finding some kind of answer. For some reason, it didn't seem the same as it had those nights she had spent with Erik. The dark sewers didn't seem like to romantic images she had remembered, now they only seemed drafty and dark.

Following the path that she remembered led to his alcove, she found herself at the spot where the boat would have been. At first, she could find nothing, but then a movement near the wall made her look harder. The boat was there, but not as regal looking as before, the wood almost seemed to be rotting through, but she knew that was going to be the only way to get there. That is, unless she wanted to swim through the cold and uninviting water. And that, she told herself, wasn't an option. Climbing into the boat, she made her way down the final lengths of the maze.

When she reached her destination there weren't any candles rising out of the water, no inviting canvases or mirrors, just the cobwebs and rust on the organ pipes. She only needed to find something that could tell her where to find the Opera Ghost, and then she would leave. Climbing out of the boat and onto the cobbled path, she had to take a deep breath from the rush of emotions swimming through her head. She could almost hear Erik's voice, singing about the music of the night; could almost feel the heat coming off of the candles, and wished herself to be back in that moment. But she had to stop this silly daydreaming and memory searching, she had to search for him. And this was as good a spot as any to start.

Author's Note: Hey guys, hope you liked Chapter 1! I already know what I want to write in Chapter 2, so I'm excited! And yes, Raoul will be in the next chapter, puffy shirt and all! So I'm off to bed for the night, leave some love so I can be excited to open my yahoo mail tomorrow! Night!

Didn't realize that she had left the story where Erik was still lost in the Labyrinth.

Erik continues to turn corners, only to find himself constantly coming to a halt in a dead end.

"Damn," Erik states as he turns around. "Damn…Damn…Damn…"

:) (Just like to poke fun at things sometimes! Don't worry, he'll get out…eventually….)

"Damn…"