Disclaimer: POTO owned by ALW. Movie rocked my socks, musical rocked them even more.

A/N: This one took me a while - lots of dialogue, which isn't usually my style. Oh well, hope you like.

Rebecca slowly opened her eyes. The room was cold and colourless, aside from a vase of roses beside her bed. Roses. Red on white. Like blood in the snow.

Rebecca closed her eyes again as the memories came flooding back. Christian's blade, the Phantom's screech, Rebecca's own blood… She pressed a hand gently to her stomach, and felt revealed bandages, tightly wound around her. The wound was packed with cotton, herbs and gauze, stitched tight and with precision.

"You are lucky," a voice said gently, "Had Christian brought you back a few moments later you would have bled to death." Rebecca opened her eyes once more. The voice came from the vase of roses. Confused, Rebecca cast her eyes about the room.

A bone-white mask and a midnight shadow watched her.

"Please," the roses said, "Do not be afraid."

Rebecca tried to calm her heart. The roses spoke to her? "How are you doing that?" She asked the Phantom.

The Phantom shrugged. "Why don't you ask them?" She nodded at the roses, smiling faintly.

Realisation dawned on the Countess. "You're a ventriloquist."

The Phantom nodded again, the smile gone from her face. "The roses were from him." She procured something from the folds of her cloak. A white rose. "And this is from me." She held the rose out to Rebecca. "An apology."

"Why should you apologise?" Rebecca asked. "Christian was going to kill you."

The Phantom said nothing, but continued to hold the rose out. Eventually, Rebecca took it from her. It smelled of vanilla and musk. "Thankyou," the countess whispered.

The Phantom didn't acknowledge the thanks. "You're still very weak, even after two night's rest," She observed, leaning against the wall once more. "But you are getting better. The blade missed your vital organs, which is fortunate. Those fool 'surgeons' didn't know what they were doing, and if you had a worse wound their fumbling attempts at healing would have sealed your fate." A sneer curled her beautiful lips. "Yet they still take the credit for your swift recovery."

"You did this?" Rebecca stared, pressing a hand to her stomach. "You saved my life? Why?"

The eyes of the Phantom were blank and unreadable. "Because you saved mine."

There was a silence in the room for a moment. Both women watched each other, unsure of what to say or how to say it. Eventually, Rebecca set the rose down and pushed herself gently upright.

"You're not going to call for help?" The Phantom asked, wryly raising an eyebrow.

Rebecca shook her head. "No."

The Phantom looked amused for a moment. "And why not?"

"Because then Christian would come running, and say that you were attacking me." The pain in her stomach was just the stitches. There did not seem to be any deep internal damage. She felt dizzy from the lack of blood, but that would end soon enough. After a good meal, perhaps.

"Just as I did at the graveyard?" The Phantom asked, coldly. Rebecca looked sharply at her, and the Phantom shrugged in return. "How else was Christian to explain the pair of you, covered in blood, coming back from the graveyard? You two went there to pay your respects, and I went there with a sword to kill you and take him prisoner. At least," the Phantom added bitterly, wiping dust off the windowsill with a gloved finger and examining it disdainfully, "That is what he has told everyone."

"He lied." Rebecca said, horrified.

"Yes," The Phantom said, feigning disinterest. She wiped her finger on the curtain.

Rebecca looked at the roses by her bed. "What has happened to him?" She whispered, not expecting an answer.

The Phantom sat down opposite Rebecca. "It seems I have driven him mad." She paused a moment. "Pity." Ice-blue eyes turned to the countess. "You knew him from childhood."

"Yes." Rebecca closed her eyes and surrendered to the memory. "One day, we went down to the sea. I was wearing a new red scarf. The wind came up, suddenly, and it flew from me, and was stolen into the waves. I sat down and started to cry. But Christian… he dove right into the freezing surf and swam after it. He came back, dripping wet and proud, and returned my scarf back to me." Rebecca opened her eyes. "Didn't our nursemaids but scold us for that!" She laughed briefly, then winced.

"Don't aggravate your wound, Countess," the Phantom said. She tilted her head. "He brought you these roses out of guilt, I think. That, or remorse."

"I wasn't about to let him kill you."

The Phantom looked penetratingly at Rebecca. "For his sake, your sake, or mine?"

"For all our sakes," Rebecca returned the gaze.

The Phantom sat back in the chair and stared at the ceiling, feigning boredom. Rebecca looked at the ivory-white rose the Phantom had brought her.

"Do you still love him?"

The Phantom looked back at the Countess. "How could I not?" She said, a touch of wistfulness in her voice.

"He tried to kill you."

"Touché, Countess," The roses whispered. The Phantom's lips didn't even move.

Rebecca frowned, and the Phantom smirked slightly. "And what about you? Do you still love him?"

"How could I not?" Rebecca said, causing the Phantom's eyes to narrow. "I know the boy I knew is still there. Somewhere inside Christian. I just need to find him."

"A dagger might help," The Phantom pointed out, steepling her gloved hands.

"That's not funny," Rebecca snapped.

"It wasn't meant to be," The Phantom shrugged, her voice icy.

Rebecca and the Phantom faced off once more. The air in the room was laced with veiled hostility.

"You could blame me, I suppose," the Phantom said, rising to her feet and pacing slowly. "After all, if I hadn't taken Christian under my wing, he would not be this way."

"If you had not tried to control him, he would not be mad." Rebecca countered.

The Phantom did not pause in her pacing. "In order to sing, one must have control over one's voice. That is what voice… what music is about. Control."

"It may be what singing is about, mademoiselle," the Countess said coldly, "But that is not what love is."

"Indeed?" The Phantom spared Rebecca a brief snarl. She moved around the room as though caged.

"If it was love you sought," Rebecca continued, "You have destroyed it. You covered him in darkness and told him he was worth nothing without you. And he believed you. Instead of freedom, you gave him madness. You controlled him, until he himself sought to throw off your chains. He himself lost control because you took it from him. If that is love, then I am a fool, and deserve him not."

The Phantom stopped her pacing, and turned to Rebecca with cold eyes. "If you seek to insult me, Countess, be plain. Insults do not call for flowery language."

Rebecca looked calmly back at the masked woman. "Your so-called 'love' poisoned his mind."

The Phantom snorted in derision. "And I suppose your words are to convince me of the errors of my ways, Countess? Then I will beg for forgiveness from the pair of you, and you will run off to your villa in Italy and leave me in misery and loneliness for the rest of my life?" There was pain in her face as she said this. The Countess felt some stab of pity.

"I know you love him," The Countess said softly, "In your own fashion. But… Christian is…"

"Mad." The Phantom looked away. "I know. And I made him so." She sighed heavily. "I just wanted… someone… anyone… to share my pain. To understand the loneliness, the fear… the darkness…"

"Phantom," Rebecca said gently, "Wouldn't it have been better to come into the sunlight instead? To leave the darkness behind?"

"You don't know me… my life… anything." The Phantom whispered. "I couldn't… and I still can't."

"But you saved my life." Rebecca said, picking up the white rose, noting it had been de-thorned. "And you have a deep attachment to Christian… though whether I'd call it love is another matter. You may have been born of darkness, Phantom, but you are not dark yourself. You're still human, no matter what you claim or what you do."

The Phantom turned slowly. "What is this?" She said, mockingly, "My rival, trying to convince me of my folly?"

"I don't need to do that," Rebecca said gently.

"Of course you don't. I already know. " The Phantom looked back up at the ceiling, this time looking as though she wished to stop tears from falling. "So this is how it is, then? An angel can love, but her love can never be returned?"

"Not if the angel acts like a possessive demon."

For a moment, the tears in the Phantom's eyes were replaced by rage. Rebecca met those eyes unflinchingly, and it was the Phantom who looked away first.

"I can't stop loving him, you know." She whispered. "Not anymore than you could stop the sun from rising, Countess."

"But you can stop trying to control him. Then his madness will pass."

The Phantom shook her head and rested it in her hand. "No, his madness will not pass. I've done terrible things to make him love me… or to try to make him love me. His madness won't end until I'm dead."

Rebecca set the rose down on her lap and tried to think of something to say. But there was no argument to counter this. It was true. Christian's madness was at such a point… The point of no return.

The Phantom sighed wearily. "I wanted someone to share my pain and pull me out of my dark despair," she whispered, "And all I did was spread my misery and trap Christian in madness. If I die, I suppose I get what I deserve." She reached into her cloak. "I have a gift for you, Countess de Chagny. I trust you will be well enough to enjoy it." She proffered a small square of paper.

Rebecca took it, and examined it, scarcely believing what she was seeing. "This is…"

"The ticket to my private box." The Phantom affirmed with a nod. "For the opening night of the play." A painful smile played about her lips. "You will be able to see Christian perform well from there."

"I can't take this." Rebecca said. "I can't!"

"Please, Countess," the Phantom said, eyes full of sadness, "Just take it. I will try and repair the damage I have caused… though my sins cannot be undone, I will at least try to make amends." She paused, then added, "Don't let Christian know I was here, please. And say nothing of what I have said or done."

"But Christian…"

"He is yours. I should have seen that from the beginning." The Phantom swept out of the door with a hiss of her cloak, and was gone.

A few moments later, Christian peered into the room, and saw Rebecca awake. The relief on his face was almost endearing. He carried with him a bouquet of blood-red roses, with sprinklings of Baby's Breath.

"Rebecca! Oh, Rebecca, I'm so glad you're alright!"

She smiled at him, though her eyes were wary. "Good evening, Christian. Or is it morning?"

Christian looked guilty, and he quietly closed the door. "Rebecca, I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to be hurt."

"You meant to kill her instead." Rebecca shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. "I can't believe you would even think such a thing!"

Christian set the roses down and knelt by the bed. "I'm so sorry… Can you ever forgive me?"

Rebecca looked at the man she loved. "I don't know, Christian. I don't know."

Christian sighed, and buried his head in his hands. "I don't know what came over me. Some kind of madness… She's… she's everywhere I go… I just felt… trapped, and I thought it was the only thing I could do was to… end it all. I thought that was the only way to be free…"

"You can be free, Christian." Rebecca said, stroking his hair as though he were a child. "But you don't need to use a knife gain your freedom.
"You don't know what she's like!" His eyes were wild, pleading. "She won't leave me! She's… she's obsessed! She's insane!"

Rebecca's eyes were cool and calm. "Christian, stop behaving like this. Whatever happened to the boy I knew?"

Christian hung his head again. "I'm such a fool."

Rebecca stroked his hair again. "I love you, Christian, for all your faults. But you can't keep acting like this. This madness will consume you. Let it go. Let her go."

Christian sighed, then kissed Rebecca's hand. "I will try, Rebecca. For your sake, and for mine. I just… I need you, by my side. To help me. To guard me and to guide me." His eyes grew serious, and for a moment, Rebecca saw the little boy who dived into the stormy sea for the red scarf. The serious little boy who only wanted to see her smile. He was still there, trapped inside the man who had been tutored by darkness.

He was there. He just needed love - true love - to help him return.

Say you love me, he sang.

Now, and always, she sang in return.

Hidden under the blankets, the ticket and the white rose rested together over the wound on her stomach.