I've always wanted to write a more "religious" POTO. I mean, there are so many images of good/evil in POTO, how could I not "go there?"

As I am not really a religious person myself, I tried to strike a balance between Suspention of Disbelief and realistic emotions and situations. Hopefully, you were all able to feel both sides of that coin.

There is an epilogue to this story, but I'm not sure if I will post it. Having just re-read this chapter, it may be a good place to end.

Thanks to all of you for sticking with me, especially through the small hiatus caused by my hand injury!

-Nico

Christine breathed heavily into Erik's shirt, shielding her eyes from the plume of light that gently recessed into darkness as Athena disappeared.

She did not pull away until she heard a familiar voice.

"Dear God. What on earth was that?"

Christine felt Erik's hands tense around her as Raoul spoke. Slowly, Christine pulled her face away from the protection of Erik's shirt to face the crowd that had followed Raoul to the cemetery in pursuit of the dreaded Phantom of the Opera.

Having just witnessed the finale to a battle between forces much greater than themselves, however, the crowd now stood slack-jawed, weapons forgotten in limp hands and impromptu piles on the cemetery ground.

Raoul looked more confused than most. It was obvious he had struggled through the labyrinth searching for Christine; his clothes were damp…his hair had come loose from its confines, swinging limply in his pale face, which was speckled with sweat from exertion.

"Christine?" He said meekly, his face twisted in some unidentifiable emotion as his eyes trailed to Erik's hands, which were still wrapped protectively around Christine's waist as they kneeled together. Slowly, Raoul's eyes traveled to another, more surprising figure. He swallowed hard. "Charles?"

Christine looked over her shoulder. Standing still, his eyes wide as he regarded his shaking hands in front of him, was her father.

Christine rose slowly, a small, trembling hand coming out to brush her father's fingertips…

Which were warm.

"Papa?" She whispered, now grasping his hand. The older man looked at his daughter, tears springing to his eyes.

"It seems," Charles whispered, "that someone has seen fit to offer me a second chance as well."

Christine yelped a shriek of joy before embracing her father's form, which was undoubtedly teaming with restored life.

Erik stood back slightly from the scene, meeting his eyes with Raoul's, who was still standing just in front of a now dissipating mob whose disinterest in meddling with anything supernatural was apparent by the hasty exits some of the more religious persons were currently executing.

Christine placed a warm kiss on her father's cheek and then turned slightly, regarding the scene before her. Purposefully, she reached out, taking Erik's hand within her own.

"Raoul," she said, her voice sounding stronger than she had anticipated. "This is Erik Mansart," she introduced him.

Raoul blinked. "He…He's…the Phantom."

Christine looked over at Erik, whose eyes had darkened slightly. His scarred face was still without a mask, revealing his terrible deformity to Raoul for the first time.

"He is no Phantom," Christine disagreed.

Raoul shook his head, which was swimming with too many thoughts to decipher just one.

Christine brought Erik's hand to her lips briefly, nodding her reassurance as she dropped his hand and moved closer to Raoul.

"I'm sorry," she told her childhood friend earnestly. "But I cannot marry you, Raoul."

Raoul lifted his eyes to hers. "Why?" He asked, although he already knew the answer.

Christine lifted her chin. She would not lie to this man, who had always been there for her. "I am in love with Erik," she said. "I always have been."

She looked back at the man she was talking about, who was standing with his hands clenched at his sides, his chest swelling with her words.

"It just took me too long to realize it," Christine continued, turning back to Raoul. "You have every right to hate me, Raoul," she continued, placing a hand on Raoul's damp arm.

"I don't hate you," Raoul whispered. "I could never hate you."

Christine smiled sadly.

Raoul sighed, looking over at Erik. "Do you love her?" Raoul asked him, his voice a bit harsher than he had intended.

Erik held his head up. "Yes," he said. "More than life itself."

Raoul nodded curtly and turned to the few brave individuals who had elected to stay behind him. "I've made a mistake, gentlemen," Raoul said, his voice once again smooth and authoritative. "It is obvious that there is no Phantom, and there never was."

Christine felt relief swoop into her chest. "Thank you, Raoul," she said quietly. Raoul merely smiled tightlyand took her hand in his.

"If I had not witnessed what I did just moments ago, I would have never stopped fighting for you," he told Christine, loud enough for Erik to hear. "Yet," he sighed, "I would be a fool to not realize what extraordinary lengths the universe has gone to to bring the two of you together."

Tears once again sprang to the young man's eyes and he quickly dropped Christine's hand, turning away and leaving before anyone could see the emotion he was struggling to withhold.

With just a few backwards glances, the rest of the gathering dispersed, leaving Christine standing before the two men she loved more than anything in the world.

"Is it possible," she whispered, tears of joy spreading down her face, "that I have everything I've ever wanted?"

She moved closer to her father, grasping one of his hands with her right, and taking Erik's in her left.

For a moment, the three merely stood, overwhelmed and exhausted by the magnitude of their now complete adventure.

Charles squeezed his daughter's hand. "I'll go get the carriage," he said softly, looking at his surroundings. "I've spent enough time in this cemetery."

Despite herself,Christine laughed as she watched her father go.

She turned to the man whose hand was still clasped protectively within her own. Christine pulled herself closer to him, reveling in the scent of his skin through his shirt, the comfort of his hands as they soothed down to the small of her back.

"I really have you," Erik said, his voice sounding uncharacteristicallysmall and full of disbelief. Christine craned her neck up to look at him.

"Yes," she said, smiling sweetly. "You really do."

Slowly, Erik brought his lips down to hers in a gentle caress that quickly intensified with the realization that this would finally be forever.

Christine pulled away breathlessly. "I have a small request," she said suddenly.

Erik let his lips trail against her throat. "Anything," he whispered against the pale column of her neck, eliciting a shiver.

She pulled his face from her collarbone. She wanted his full attention. "You must never leave my side," she told him sternly, cradling his face in her hands. "You are simply not allowed."

Erik laughed and dipped his head to kiss her once more. "I believe," he said between kisses, "that I will have no problem granting such a request."