Chapter 1

Don't go!… His mind screamed at Christine as he watched the two of them leave in the boat. Don't go…

Christine turned back to look at him as Raoul took her to 'safety'. But what was her safety? Hadn't she always been safe with her Phantom? Had he ever hurt her? And what did life hold for her with Raoul? A boy she'd known in her childhood days, whom she hadn't seen in years. Safety…security…love?…

He was packing what little he could take with him as he grieved his loss of her. He knew there wasn't much time before the mob finally caught up with his lair, his home of so many years such as it was. He'd lost everything he'd ever known and he could bare that if he hadn't lost the only thing he'd ever cherished. He sensed her before he heard her. She came up behind him, softly, quietly.

"I told you to leave me. Why have you come back? Did that boy decide to find that bloodthirsty lot and bring them here for me?"

"No, I sent him away. When he stepped out of the boat to help me, I was holding the pole. I pushed the boat away and told him I couldn't stay. That my heart lay with you." His heart caught in his throat. She came back…for me…

"No, I don't want you here, you need to leave me. I have nothing left to offer you. It has all been destroyed."

"Master, I have nothing but you. If I leave, what do I do?"

Master. He had been her master – of music, of song, of her life for so long. But he was Master no more. That ended when she'd left with Raoul.

"Go back to that boy. He can provide everything I cannot." He said that last with a defeat in his voice that tore at her heart. But she wouldn't leave, she couldn't. And she was sure he wouldn't let her. He picked up his bag which he had continued to pack and without looking back at her, began to walk into one of the tunnels leading away from his lair. For a moment she stood locked in place, shock and fear surrounding her soul. He can't leave me, not now…

He had gone quite a way through the tunnel lost in his own thoughts when he thought he heard her. She can't be following me still… He was so sure, after a few hundred feet, that she would return to the lair and take the boat back to that boy. That boy! If it hadn't been for him…but what had passed was over now. No going back. He stopped and turned to look, the first he'd dared since he told her to go. His heart had hoped she would follow, but his mind told him it was a hopeless dream, and yet, he heard a sound from the darkness, that didn't belong. She was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps it was his mind playing cruel tricks on him. For a moment the impact of his order to her to leave him frightened him. What if she never leaves my thoughts?I won't be able to stand having her always there, inside my mind. That would be worse than death. He needed to get as far away as possible and find some way to drive her from his mind. He started forward again and heard her step. He was sure of it now. He turned in time to see the hem of her skirt fade into the darkness at the outer rim of his torchlight.

"Why have you followed me! I told you to leave me!"

She came slowly into the torchlight and looked at him with fear, longing, a desire he'd never seen in any woman's eyes before. He realized that the desire was directed at him! Could it be? Could those kisses have awakened the love he had tried so hard to evoke in her? No, it's not possible, not with this face. I know that now. It could only be pity and I could never stand that. "Master, I have no where else to go. I want to go with you. I need you."

"No you don't! You need to go back the way you came, get in the boat and leave!" and with that, he turned and continued his trek through the tunnel and away from the life he'd known for most of it. Yet she followed. He wanted her to leave him. Don't go… He needed to turn off that longing and make her go back. Abruptly he stopped and turned on her.

"I…told…you…to…LEAVE ME!" The force of his fury with her was too much to bear. It ripped through her like a gunshot to the heart. He had never been so angry with her before. Exhausted and light headed from the night's events, she hadn't the strength left the shield herself from this onslaught. Her mind closed itself to her, her body weakened and she collapsed in a heap.

Erik was horrified! Not only with her sudden collapse, but with himself for being the cause of it. He'd hurt her, he knew, and that was something he had sworn to never do. He moved swiftly to her to see that she was still breathing. He knew he couldn't just leave her there and returning her to his lair would put both of their lives in danger. There was only one decision to be made. He removed his cape and covered her with it, slung his bag over his shoulder and lifted her to him. The moment he touched her, he was alive again with all of the passion she had stirred in him over these last months. When he'd told her to leave, he'd closed his heart to any chance of ever seeing her or touching her again. He knew the demons that ruled his passion for her and had kept her always at the front of his thoughts and also was well aware how hard the struggle would be to erase her from them. And now, she lay in his arms, where he had dreamt she would know she belonged. This however was not through her choice but by necessity, because of his anger. And his dream began to whither.

He walked for what seemed like an eternity, carrying her as gently as possible. He had made this journey so many times in the past, quickly and easily, but now he made it with a broken heart which slowed his step and filled his soul with pain. For he knew at the end of this journey, he would lose her again.

----------

Christine opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. She lay on a bed in a small room lit by a solitary candle on the nightstand. Also in the room was a small table and two chairs, one of which was occupied by him. A chest of drawers and a washstand with bowl and ewer filled with water sat next to each other on the far wall. The wall at the foot of the bed housed a fireplace that was burning softly and casting an elegant glow to an otherwise unremarkable apartment. The room was bare of anything else.

"Where am I?" came from her as only a soft whisper, barely to be heard. As she spoke, he turned to her, and really saw her for the first time since she'd returned to him in his lair. God, she is beautiful! And his heart twisted in his chest.

"We're in a small room at a boarding house some way from the Opera House. It is accessible to me through the tunnels underneath the city. Isn't it wonderful what 20,000 francs will buy a month?" The last was stated with a hatred and sarcasm she had never heard from him before.

"But Master.." and before she could finish he was on his feet, his face a picture of pain and rage.

"I have a name Christine! Have you no desire to know it? To really know me? I live, I breathe, feel pain, fear, love… I am a MAN! Neither Angel nor Phantom. Just a man Christine, a man who loves you. I have a name…"

A terrible look of defeat came over his face at his last words that it nearly broke her in two. She could no more bare the look on his face than she could a life without him. As he slumped back onto his chair, she rose from the bed and walked to him. Sometime between her faint and awakening in this room, he had found a mask and it lay on the table. As she approached him, he picked up the mask and turned his face from her, knowing why she came near and not wanting her touch.

Oh Christine…touch me…trust me… She lay her hand on his shoulder.

"But that is all I've ever know you as: Master. Nothing else I could ever think to call you sounded right." Until now.

Remembering what he held, he raised the mask to his face once again but she touched his hand to stop him.

"Don't Christine, don't pity me. I can stand almost anything from you but your pity." "It's not my pity I want to give you. I want to touch you because I trust you…because I…"

"Please don't, Christine…" She pushed the hand holding the mask back to the table. He continued to raise the mask to his face and she touched his hand to stop him. "Please…don't." and she pushed his hand holding the mask back to the table She smiled down at him and he could no longer stand it. He turned to her and buried his face in her skirts. He couldn't look at her. He knew if he did, he'd cease to exist becoming lost in her eyes, her soul forever. A sob caught in his throat, for an instant, and then the tears began to fall. She stood there holding him, letting him cry out his pain as she began to understand the depth of his emotions. And her own.

This man had been her Angel, her master, her teacher and tutor, her guide, her life for so many years. She had always taken her feelings for him to be that of a child for a father. And he had taken the protective place of her father for many years. But he wasn't an apparition, or ghost as the Opera House wished to believe. As she herself had believed. He was a man, with feelings and emotions, flesh and blood. He breathed, he lived, he was real and in her arms and the feelings that stirred in her heart were heady and intoxicating. These were new to her as was everything she'd learned this day. There was so much to take in, to explore, to feel, and as she held him, she began to understand that he could teach her so much more than music alone.

He cried great racking sobs that shook him with their intensity into her skirts, his soul bleeding out as he did so. All of the hurts, the injustices, the cruelty and pain that he had endured throughout the years came pouring out as if the heavens had opened her floodgates to the earth below. As alone as he was all those years at the Opera House, he had heard her and had reached out to her in her despair. When she first arrived at the opera house, she would come to the little chapel when the others had all slept and would cry piteous tears of grief. Within the first few days, he realized she had experienced the loss of her father. He also had heard her crying for the Angel of Music her father had promised he would send her. One night when the depth of her loss became too much for even him to look upon any further, he answered her. The smile that lit her face was a miracle to behold. And so she came, night after night, begging her angel to come to her, to talk with her. And he came. Not every night at first, but as time went on he realized that he couldn't bear to hear her cries if he did not answer her again, and so he did. A few nights a week turned into a nightly ritual with them. She would come after the opera house had gone to bed for the night and call for him. One night he was late in arriving thanks to that oaf Buquet. As he neared the chapel he could hear her singing and his heart soared with the beauty of the sound she made. He had always composed and sung the compositions to himself but now! Now he knew how to set his music free! How to set them both free. He would write for her… He would teach her, tutor her, bring her voice to perfection and eventually to the world. And so it began. Nightly they found themselves in the chapel, long after the lights had been dimmed. He in his crevasse behind the wall, she at the little altar. He would teach her scales and small pieces and she would sing them with a response that was almost frightening in it's purity of sound. He worked with her and while he did, he watched her grow from a small child to a beautiful woman. He couldn't remember when his feelings had changed from saviour to lover, it had happened so slowly. It astonished him the first time he realized that what he felt could no longer be considered teacher to student. When he realized that he loved her. And loved her deeply. So much so in fact that he would give his life if needs be for her, he loved her so. They continued their lesson time but for him, it would never be the same again. Now he wrote for her, and sang with her as a lover instead of a teacher. And her voice responded in kind. No longer was she the small child he had rescued from that pit of depression. Her voice had begun to mature with a quality of tone beyond compare. As he heard her voice mature, his heart watched her soul and body mature into a beauty that rivaled her musical perfection. But all of that had been murdered within him that night on the rooftop and now, all of the pain and rejection he'd felt came boiling out with tears that poured onto the very woman he thought he'd lost forever. He knew now he should have taken her back to the lair. He'd told her to leave him. And yet she followed. Why?

The tears lessened slowly and eventually subsided altogether and yet he couldn't bring himself to let go her skirts. She had now seen him at his lowest point and he was afraid to look in her eyes for fear of what he'd see looking back. He'd told her he couldn't stand her pity and after his display of weakness to her, knew he would see in her eyes nothing else but that. She had been holding him as he poured out his soul but now, she moved her hands to each side of his face, beauty and beast, sharp contrasts of each other, and brought his face up to meet her gaze. What he saw in her eyes filled his heart with wonder. There was no pity, no hatred, no fear. Something had replaced the look that every set of eyes save one had ever mirrored to him. He saw compassion. . He was shocked to see that look from anyone let alone Christine. He'd told her to leave him and yet, she stayed – and felt for him! He had wanted her love for an eternity it seemed but this? And did he also see something more? Yet, if that was all she could offer him, he'd drink it in to his very core and live on that alone the rest of his life.

"I know you have a name. Tell me, please?"

It had been so long since he'd thought of it, he'd almost forgotten.

"When I was but a babe, I was called Erik. Erik DeBussey."

"Erik", she repeated and it rolled through her voice like the sound of an angel. "Erik, I…I cannot…"

And he knew. He knew! Now she would tell him that she couldn't stay, that she couldn't bear to be with him. To look upon his deformed face and shattered heart. She would tell him the only reason she had returned to him was let him know how much he had hurt her, destroyed her. He had thought, for one, brief, shining moment, that perhaps, somewhere within her, she could find the strength to love him. But he knew now that she had witnessed his downfall and would only hate him for it. He couldn't stand the thought of hearing that from her. He rose and pulled away.

"I told you to leave me, more than once. And yet you followed. And now, you want to leave and I cannot return you to the opera house. It is no more. The fire will have consumed much of it by now and they will be looking for me. You should have listened to me. I cannot help you now." He walked to the door and lay his head on it, wishing to God she had never come. Knowing that it would rip his heart out when she left.

"I will make arrangements with the landlord to find suitable transportation for you in the morning. For the time being, go, lie down and try to sleep. I will remain at the table tonight." He never heard her come up behind him so engrossed in his own despair was he. She put her arms around his waist and he stiffened in shock. Too afraid to speak or move, he stood rooted to the spot, demanding in his mind that she release him and at the same time begging her with his heart to never let him go.

"Erik, please turn around. Please…" It was both a plea and a command from her. Spoken by the voice of an angel, the only one he knew he could never resist. Slowly he turned in her arms, which still would not be loosed from his waist.

"Erik," she began again, "I cannot…" and again he struggled to free himself from her before she could say it. But she held tight and wouldn't let him go.

"Erik. Stop, please. I must tell you this."

Her eyes were so imploring that the fight went out of him and his struggling ceased. He felt like a condemned man at the top step of the gallows.

I'll die without her. Please, God, don't let her say it.

"Erik," she began, softly and with a calm she did not feel. Her insides were tearing apart at the thought that now that she knew, now that she understood all of the desires she had held bottled up within her this past several months, now that she finally held him in her arms and could tell him all of the secrets she had longed to tell him but didn't understand herself, now, upon hearing them, he would consider them childish and immature and dismiss her from his life. He had already told her more than once tonight that he didn't want her, that he wanted her to leave him, return to the opera house and never think of him again. But that was an impossibility for her, a command she could never follow. She pulled her courage to her as tightly an armor around her heart as she could and let the words tumble from her mouth, one after the other, in such quick succession that she barely breathed.

"I cannot live without you. You have become a part of my soul. I had wanted you for months to look upon me as more than a child but didn't understand why. I realized when I kissed you that what I felt, my desires for you, went far beyond what I thought I had felt for Raoul. But I needed to know that I was right and so I kissed you a second time and that is when my soul sang out in ecstasy. I thought you felt it too! But you told me to leave. I didn't want to go. But neither had I ever disobeyed your orders. It burned my heart though I went. But I couldn't stay away from you, even for those few moments. You are a part of me. The other half of me. I would never be whole without you. That's why I came back. I need you, need to be with you. Erik, I…I love you! Not with the childhood feelings I had for Raoul. I love you! I don't care where we go or what we do. I only know the path my life takes must be with you, beside you always. Please Erik. Forgive my ignorance. Love me. That's all I ask."

The words had rushed out, rolling one atop the other like water through a brook, flowing, unstoppable. Erik was taken by surprise by her admission and rocked his heart.

She loves me? Truly loves me?

And there were no words to say what he was feeling. He looked down upon her and her face lifted to his.

"Erik, kiss me. I need to know that all is not lost. Kiss me. Love me."

He bent his head to her to touch his lips to hers. Tentatively, tenderly they touched, his lips brushing hers with the touch of a rose petal, hers touching back with the lightness of a feather. Their kiss was soft, lingering and electric. But what began as a tentative exploration turned into a fire that ignited their senses. His arms went around her and pulled her even closer while her hands went again to his face cradling it with a tenderness he had never imagined and a heaven he never wanted to leave. When at last they parted, the look on her face was almost ethereal. He'd seen it in the lovers who gazed at each other with longing desires, he'd read about it in the hundreds of books he had obtained over the years. But for him it was only a dream to be imagined. Until now. She took her hands and traced the sides of his face, both the perfect and the imperfect, running them down his jaw-line to meet in the center of his chin.

"You are perfect Erik and I would have you no other way but this."

Again he stiffened in her grasp but did not pull away. He looked into her eyes for the truth of her words and saw a depth of feeling he had never known before. She ran her fingers over his lips then reached to him kissing him again. His taste was something she knew she'd never forget. Sweet, salty, soft and yielding, she drew him closer to her and pressed his lips harder. He responded in kind, precious understanding lighting a fire in him that had smoldered for months. Their breathing became one as their rhythm attuned to each other. Everything they had been to each other over the months, the erotic dance they had done during their singing to each other in practice suddenly became a living, breathing thing between them. An entity unto itself that neither one could control. Erik pulled away from her, breathless and excited.

"Christine, we must stop. This cannot go any farther."

"Erik." His name came from deep within her, low, sensual, imploring.

"Please don't say anything. Just love me. Now. Here."

"Christine, you don't know what you ask…"

"But I do." She replied, never letting go of his face. A face that melted together to make the most beautiful face she had ever known.

"Do you not think I don't know what to expect? Think of where I lived! There is nothing that I have not heard or seen by now. But I have never experienced them. I want to now. With the man that I love and no one else. I have no fear with you. I know you will never hurt me."

And she reached forward to kiss him again. But before she could, he had lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. He looked at her, loving her with his eyes, his arms, his entire being.

"Christine, are you sure? There's no going back from this. Once it has happened, it can never be undone."

She gazed at him with passionate longing and nodded her head in assent. He laid her gently on the bed and turned to the candle on the nightstand.

"Don't Erik. Leave it lit. I want to see everything that I might never forget a single moment."

He lay on the bed beside her, pulling her to him and letting her head rest on his arm. He traced her face with his gentle hands, with a bit of trepidation. He had read more than his share about how men and women shared each other's bodies, most like animals with no thought save for the physical pleasure. But he'd also read of the physical joy true lovers experienced between each other, melting into one as the joy of their love consumed them like fire. And this was real. This wasn't something in a book, how two animals behaved together. This was tender, sensual, loving, kind, soft, gentle, sweet, a thousand things he never thought to know. His only thought was for Christine, and showing her how much he loved her. His hand continued down her neck pausing at her pulse and resting there. He dropped his head to her neck and kissed the spot where his hand had been. He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, all the time praying to a God he wasn't sure existed to never let it end…

His lips were so soft on her neck that a small moan escaped her and she relaxed into his arms even more. It excited a place in him that had never been allowed any freedom before now.

He kissed her neck again and she pressed to his lips to feel the softness of his skin upon hers. She began to feel warm in places she had not known existed within her. Her body started to respond to his caress in ways she'd only heard of. She wanted more of his touch, more of his love. He kissed her neck again traveling his lips down the front of her until he skimmed the top of her dress. Her breasts responded to him and began to tingle. She had never experienced these feelings before. They were strange and frightening and wonderful all at the same time and she never wanted them to stop. She turned her face to his and kissed him, this time hard and hungrily like a dying man in the desert tasting his first drop of water. Her thirst for him became overpowering and his for her. He caressed her body as he had during Don Juan, but this time she was completely aware of his every movement. His every touch. And she trembled with desire for him. She put her hands on his chest and felt the solid muscle there. She had never felt a man's chest before, not like this, and the strength there drove her pulse to a breakneck speed. Erik could feel her body reacting and it pushed his boldness to a new level. He reached behind her to undo her dress but couldn't reach the ties. She pulled from him enough to turn to her other side so he would have a clear view of her back. He untied her and unlaced her dress, releasing the tension of her corset. The relief she felt brought a huge sigh which only made him want her more. He split the back open and ran his fingers down her spine, sensing the fire that burned beneath them and watching her reaction for anything that would displease her in any way. She seemed to relish his touch which awed and excited him at the same time. He placed his hand under the corset and around her waist to touch the skin on her abdomen. He was amazed at the softness there. He moved forward to bury himself into her hair and her back and pressed himself against her drinking in a fragrance he thought never to know again.

When he touched her skin, a small gasp caught her unawares and sent her blood racing. She wondered if she would ever get enough of him and never wanted to know the answer. He was all she wanted and more and she loved all of him completely. She turned back to face him and smiled at him. She could see the sheer joy and adoration in his eyes for her. She reached to his shirt and pulled it from his waistband and undid the buttons laying his chest bare. She began to remove her corset, but he stopped her.

"Let me do it Christine. I want to do this for you. To please you."

Again she smiled at him as he removed her corset and exposed her breasts, now covered by only the barest of chemise. . For a moment he stopped all breath and movement because she was so beautiful. And she wanted him. She loved him! He reached his hand to caress her breast when sanity suddenly reared its ugly head and he realized that what he was doing was wrong. She was his life's desire but not his wife and the dishonour he would bring to her shamed him. He cherished her above all else and could not cause her that kind of shame and pain. He stopped all movement and closed his eyes in an attempt to bring reality back between them. Christine felt the heat between them begin to dissipate and Erik to pull away.

"Erik, what is wrong? Why have you stopped?" The confusion of his stopping was overpowering to her.

"Is this not what you want?"

He opened his eyes and looked upon her, wanting her even more.

"Christine, you are everything I've ever dreamed and more. To be with you now, at this threshold of desire and understanding… but I cannot shame you by dishonouring you nor shame myself by losing your trust. You are like a gift I have no right to accept."

He rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling above, his fists clenched tightly as he fought to reign in his emotions. Confusion and hurt were evident in her eyes as his words sank into her. And then her anger took over and pushed her own boldness to a new level.

"I love you Erik! What is so wrong in that? What is so wrong in our joining our love as one? Do you care for me so little that you would treat me like one of the ballet brats who are toyed with and then cast aside? Does my love mean so little to you now?"

Angry tears began to roll down her cheeks as she quickly gathered her corset and tried to move away from him when his hand shot out and grabbed her arm. The power of his grip made her want to cry out in pain but she would not give him the satisfaction, so hurt and angry was she. She stopped moving and after a moment, Erik loosed his grip a bit, but did not let go.

"Christine…I never thought I would be granted such a miracle as you! I had been prepared to live life alone, without someone to share my life, my love of music, of all things beautiful. But then I heard you cry in the night and it tore at me because I understood your pain. You're not that small child anymore Christine! You've grown into a beautiful, sensual, vibrant woman. The kind of woman about which honor has many rules. And as much as I want you, need you, right now, at this very moment, I love you enough not to break those rules. I cannot do that to you. I cannot shame you like that." "And what about what I want Erik? You haven't forced me to be here. I'm the one who said I want you. I didn't need to do that. I didn't need to open myself to you, to take the chance that you wouldn't laugh at my feelings or treat me like a silly girl. We could have gone on, playing at the love we both feel for each other and never allowing it to truly bloom. But it's not what I want from you. I told you that you are the second part, the other half of me. I don't want to be a just half any more. I want to be joined and become a whole person Erik. And the only one who can do that is you! I love you. I need to be with you, as one, for eternity if possible. There is no shame in that! Love me Erik, love me." As he looked at her, he longed to give in to their desires. But he knew that to do so would condemn them both and pull the hangman's noose around their love. As hard as it was for him to do, he pushed away from Christine.

"Please Christine," he sighed as he rose from the bed, "please don't ask of me something that you and I both know I shouldn't do. Not like this. You must cover yourself before I lose the control I'm finding so difficult to hang on to."

Christine was furious at him for suddenly treating her as if she meant very little to him. But as she rose to pull herself together she began to think about what had just happened. Had they stepped over the boundaries of propriety, neither would ever truly be able to live with what they'd done. She realized that one of them must maintain a level head. More's the better that Erik do that as she knew how weak she would be should the opportunity arise again. She righted her garments but was unable to re-lace the back of her corset. Reaching out to touch Erik's back, she felt him stiffen somewhat as she asked him to help her lace herself. He had known he would have to help and was not looking forward to the prospect. His control was already held together by a tenuous thread. He turned to her, she with her back to him, and began to lace her corset for her. As he neared the top, his fingers brushed against her skin and the electricity charged through them both. It was all he could do not to bend his head to her and kiss her with soft, smothering kisses across her back and up into her hair. He managed a semblance of neatness as he tied and when he was done, turned her to him and crushed her in his embrace.

"Christine, never for a moment think that I wouldn't want you – that I don't love you, with all of my being. But now is not the time nor place for that. We've just found each other as lovers. I do not want to do a disservice to something so fresh and new and…precious. Please understand me and….and trust me."

Christine looked into his eyes and knew, without doubt, that she would trust this man with her very soul, her love for him was so great.

"Alright Erik, I understand. I will wait, along with you, until the time is right. Just remember Erik, the depth of my love for you has no bottom to it. I was, and still am, willing to give you every piece of me that you will take, all carrying the love I have for you."

Once again, he pressed her to him, loving her with everything inside of him. When he finally held her at arms length, he realized that she was ill dressed for the 'occasion' and smiled ruefully.

"I think I will need to gather some wardrobe for you since this seems to be all that is left of your trousseau." At once he realized the mistake of his words but Christine only smiled and replied "Maybe so, for now, my love, but don't make me wait too long…"

----------

I want to extend my sincerest apologies to one of our wonderful phic writers from whom I inadvertently chose my Erik's last name. For future purposes his last name is actually Debussy…