"Hearts may get broken, love endures." The orchestra swelled as Raoul's future crumbled before him. He'd been so sure that Christine would choose him once more. How could he have been so blind? Hearts may get broken indeed. Raoul turned and walked away. Sober for the first time in years and yet he felt as though he walked through a haze. Raoul walked out of the wings and along the passageway to the dressing rooms. Upon entering his wife's dressing room, Raoul paused and looked around. This dressing room would have easily fit in their Parisian home. The rest of the stage area and rooms favored bold, flashy colors and gaudy décor reminiscent of the Paris Opera. This small, simple, elegant dressing room stood out. It was Christine's favored style, both light and golden. A room designed by a man in love, not a monster.

Raoul had begun the night with no intention of honoring his wager with his rival. Their son deserved a life with both of his parents. Now as he stood in this room designed for his wife, the Vicomte finally acknowledged the possibility that Gustave had never known his true father. His son, his only heir, with the head full of music that only Christine understood. Christine's precious Gustave who showed no interest in any of Raoul's passions. His son, born nine months after their wedding day. Not premature, despite the gossiping old hens attempting to imply it when his marriage happened so quickly after the disaster at the theatre, so he'd never had a doubt. The way Christine had been so hesitant in speaking her vows and kept glancing at the guests, almost as though expecting someone to object. He'd dismissed her hesitations as nerves, but perhaps she'd been awaiting him even then.

Raoul sighed and reached into his pocket for the letter he'd written earlier. Originally meant to throw the monster off-track as they escaped, the words releasing Christine into the arms of her "Angel" now proved to be the truth. He set the note on the dressing table and rested the rose he'd purchased on top. The bit of scarlet in the room should pull her attention directly to his message.

As he walked down the passageways to the rear exit, Raoul nodded to one of the freaks that seemed to be watching him. A flash caught his attention from inside another dressing room. He glanced inside the room, then froze. The room was destroyed and the mirror smashed. The room was set up for a single person and not a group. It must have been Meg's dressing room as the leading lady. Dear God! One of the stage hands had directed Gustave to stand with Meg during the performance. What if…? The thought trailed off in horror. Adrenaline poured into his system as he fled for the dockside bar he'd visited so recently. The bartender seemed familiar with Meg. Surely he'd know where she took her swims.

-,-'- -`-,- -,-'- -`-,-

"Diamonds never sparkle bright if they aren't set just rig-" "Miss Giry!" Erik spun, eyes spitting fire. He'd almost had the girl completely entranced until that fool shouted. The Vicomte raced up and onto the bridge, passing Christine and Gustave without even looking at them.

"Please Miss Giry, don't do this." His gaze locked onto the poor girl. His voice dropped into the soothing tones he'd used when comforting Christine on a rooftop in another lifetime. "Don't throw your life away for his sake!"

The trembling in her hand continued but the weapon slipped a bit further away from her head. Raoul took another few steps forward, barely registering the way he pushed the masked man to the side. As he spoke, he eased himself closer to the desperate woman.

"They don't understand. The ones who shine so brightly. Oh they claim to see us – even to love us. But we are never their priority, are we?" Now within reach, the Vicomte stopped. One of his hands raised towards Meg.

"I did everything he asked. I begged for his attention. I gave everything!" The words came out as sobs. Her free arm wrapped around her midsection in self-soothing-hug.

"I did too. I gave her safety from her fears. I gave her my heart. And when that wasn't enough I gave her my anger, my rage, my pain. All the ugliness I found within myself I threw at her hoping she'd look at me long enough to see me clearly." The enraged snarl from the disfigured composer was ignored as memories flashed through Raoul's mind. He's hated how Christine kept part of herself aloof from him, even though he didn't understand it. He'd taken that anger out on Christine. Usually verbally but occasionally physically. His sweet wife had never spoken out against him or truly stood up to him. She'd accepted the ugly and continued to look for the good man he'd once been. Perhaps that is why it was so easy for the diva to accept the monster.

"Yes. I give everything to be seen." The hand holding the pistol dropped as Meg's broken whisper escaped. Raoul reached forward and put his hands on her shoulders. He felt the shivers beneath his hands and slowly drew her close. For a moment the hero was tempted to offer to protect the damsel. No more talk of darkness. No. This was not an innocent ingénue, and he was not a young man dashing in to save the day. They were all old enough now to see the shades of gray in life.

Slowly he slid his hand down Meg's arm until the pistol was in his own hand. He pictured using it to kill the fiend responsible for all of this. Would that help any of them?

"This won't help, Miss Giry. The eternal torment of a damned soul is not cool or clean or kind." Raoul turned, expecting her fingers to slip easily from the weapon as he raised it toward the Phantom. A loud bang shocked them all as the gun fired. Meg shrieked and raced past them all into the arms of her mother. Christine clutched Gustave tight, searching for wounds and praying there were none. Only the masked man stood unconcerned.

"You foolish boy. Did you really think I would leave an armed pistol in easy reach, knowing about Meg's…difficulties?" Arrogance dripped from the words like poison. Dimly Raoul noted Madame Giry attempt to flee with her daughter, only to be blocked by the same freaks that had picked his family up when they first arrived in America.

"What?"

"The pistol carried only the harmless blanks we use on the stage, not true ammunition. Though it was worth it, I must say, to see your true colors show through at last, Vicomte." Behind the black shape of the monster Raoul had hated for so long, Christine was staring at Raoul. For the first time, Raoul saw no tenderness in her eyes. Just fear and sorrow and shock staring back at him while she held Gustave with one arm. From this angle he could only see the monster's unmarked face, but the resemblance between that clean profile and the young boy next to him was unmistakable. Raoul's heart finally shattered. Even through the performance he'd held onto hope that if he could just save Meg, be the hero again, that Christine would change her mind and choose him. The way her hand gripped that arrogant bastard's arm proved him wrong. Without another word, the Vicomte stalked past the trio.

As he approached the Giry's, Raoul pulled his tickets for the Atlantic Queen from his pocket. He showed them to the women. "I have passage for three to Schönberg. Would you care to accompany me away from this…place? I think we could all use a new start."

AN: I have one more chapter planned and then this story will be complete. I will do my best to get the final chapter uploaded before another year has passed.