Phantom belongs to Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Weber.

So, a longer chapter this time. Finally Christine and The Phantom get some time to discuss some of what has happened.

Again, thank you for all the reviews, follows etc, they really, really help. Also thank you to the people who are reading and not reviewing... because i had always been one of those people. As long as you are reading and enjoying, that's all that matters :)

So, without further ado... on with Phanty!


"I don't know..." She began. She could feel his immediate disappointment at her answer.

"Well... that is to say... I was not altogether sure when I first made the decision. At first all I knew is that I couldn't simply leave you here. After all that had happened; all that you had done for me... and how I treated you."

He listened.

So it was only pity.

"I couldn't bear to leave you not knowing whether or not you would be safe."

Disappointment struck him. Soon she would be on her way back to her Vicomte. She had only returned to ensure that he was alive.

How could you be so ignorant? You lost, remember? She chose him.

To The Phantom's surprise Christine continued.

"...But as I got closer to your home I found myself to be increasingly concerned with your safety. Your safety over mine! I couldn't bear the thought of something happening to you."

My safety? What should my safety matter to her?

Pity. Pity is all it is. All it ever was.

Unless...

No. This conversation is not going where you think it is. Don't get your hopes up.

"Christine you should never be concerned with my safety over your own... I'm n..."

"Wait I'm... I'm not finished." She silenced him, a little surprised with how forthright she was being with him.

"I began to ask myself why I was so concerned. It wasn't pity and it wasn't out of guilt that I was returning. I knew that."

So then...

"When I finally saw you I... sort of realized."

At this moment The Phantom allowed himself to hope. For fear of shattering the illusion of happiness in which he had lived for the past hour he dared not ask the question that he so desperately wanted to. He could not possibly bear to subject himself to such heartache a second time.

Just ask.

"...Realized what?"

There. It was done. Before he realized what he was doing the words had left his mouth and they were out in the open. The hard part was over.

It was not until Christine responded did he realize he had been holding his breath.

"...That I may have made the wrong choice."

She turned to what she could now ascertain to be the outline of his face.

"That I did feel something for you."

What...?

She stopped speaking, suddenly conscious of what she had admitted aloud.

"Feel... something?" he apprehensively repeated, inwardly cursing himself at how clumsy his speech suddenly sounded.

"What... What did you feel?" He probed.

No! Why? Why did you push it? Just be happy with what you have!

He was already condemning himself before she could answer.

"...Love." she said hesitantly.

At that moment he thought he might faint. His chest felt as though it might explode. His head was spinning; giddy with the thought and he couldn't speak.

"...Love?" he asked; the pitch of his voice higher than he would have liked. He cleared his throat.

"And... what of the boy?" he asked in a curt tone; His mind trying to reason with what he had just heard before he could allow himself to be lost in the moment; a moment he didn't think he deserved.

"I... love Raoul... and I thought I wanted to marry him. I still did when I left to find you but now... after spending this time with you; this short amount of time... I just can't see myself marrying him. I love him and I always have but it took all of this to realize what sort of love that actually was."

"And what sort was that?"

"The love of a friend... I don't know. So much has happened and I have had such little time to process it all but I am sure of one thing; this is where I want to be."

"Well, not here exactly."She joked, receiving a small chuckle from The Phantom for her efforts.

She felt for his hand and held it; again, not noticing his steep intake of breath at her touch.

She was holding his hand willingly. He did not speak; he could not. If Christine's eyes were properly adjusted to the darkness she would have noticed the tears that had formed in her Angel's eyes.

"I'm so, so sorry for all that I put you through. I was stupid and selfish and... No matter what happens tonight, I'll know that I finally made a choice true to my heart. Can you ever hope to forgive me?"

He stared at her; still unable to process what had just happened. He looked from her hand holding his, to her expectant face and realized that he had to speak.

He cleared his throat so that his voice would not betray him and reveal emotion.

Like that matters after your display earlier.

He would never let himself get to that state again.

"There... There is nothing to forgive, mon ange." His voice was deep and filled with all the emotion he had been trying to hide. "It is I who should be asking for your forgiveness. The way I behaved... I was quite overcome with grief and I..."

"It's alright, Angel; don't distress. We will have all the time in the time in the world later to talk through what happened. You don't need to explain anything now but I need to know something; have your feelings for me changed? What you said tonight... do you still mean it?"

Christine, I love you.

"Christine, of course!" he responded with enthusiasm. How could she think otherwise?

"I'm just... overcome with everything at the moment. The things you're saying... Even the fact that you're sitting here with me; we are talking as if we are just two regular people."

"We are." She interrupted.

"It's just... I had prepared myself for this moment over and over. Only now that you've finally said the words I have been waiting to hear I can't express any of what I'm feeling. A trait of someone with little to no human contact, I expect." He mused.

She smiled, awkwardly.

"I'm sorry." She didn't know how to react when he said things like that. He was so complex.

He squeezed her hand in response but did not speak. Again, she looked at him expectantly.

"But... I do. Of course I do. You must know how that what I feel for you is not something that can diminish over a few short hours; regardless of what transpired during those hours."

To this Christine smiled. A smile which seemed to light up the whole room whenever he saw it; and this one was for him. He had always loved her smile; he had seen it many times over the years but always from a distance; behind a mirror, from far away in the auditorium, from the rafters above the stage, on the rooftop...

"Angel?" She began, pulling him from his memories and the dark abyss that he was sure to spiral down afterwards. "What is your name?"

"My name." He repeated, not expecting the question.

"Well, it wouldn't be fitting to call you Angel anymore, would it? Or would you prefer Phantom? Opera Ghost perhaps?" She teased.

He laughed quietly; another sound which would take getting used to.

"Christine." He warned.

"Well?" She smiled at him expectantly.

He fell silent before absentmindedly speaking. "It's just been a long time since I have used it."

"What is it?" She asked, growing impatient.

"It's... Erik."He finally said.

"Erik." She repeated, tasting it on her tongue. She had of course assumed he had a name. Everyone did... Didn't they? It was surreal to be able to give an identity to this nameless force which had been such a strong presence in her life. He was finally a person, this was a step further; another puzzle piece to the mystery that was this man.

"I like the way you say it." He said.

"It suits you."

He smiled. For him, this name had always been associated with his childhood and therefore nothing but pain, misunderstanding and hatred. Perhaps the more it was spoken from the lips of his Christine, the more it would redeem itself; the more he would redeem himself.

"It's not a French name... were you born here?"

"Yes, I was born here."

If you could call it that.

"Why don't you use it?" She asked him innocently.

Where to start?

"Many reasons... many memories..."

Christine could tell from his vague response that he was reluctant to continue but there would be plenty of time to get to know him, to learn him.

"Maybe you will share them with me... one day." She offered, trying to sound as amiable as possible.

One day. Was that a promise of a future between them?

Hope. That feeling. There it was again.

"Yes." Was all he could say, cautiously positive.

I would give you the world, Christine. You need only ask.

"You should sleep." He began. "You must be exhausted after all I put you through. I want to begin making up for my behavior and the only way I can do that at this moment is to let you get some rest. It is the least I can do. I'll keep watch."

She looked at him.

"I'm the one who behaved terribly Ang... Erik." She had to get used to using his name.

He smiled awkwardly, acknowledging her effort.

"And... aren't you tired? You've been through just as much as me, maybe more."

"It's fine. I don't sleep much. Rest. I'll wake you in two hours or so." He persuaded.

She sighed. "Well... I am tired but I don't think I could rest knowing that they are in here somewhere looking for us."

"They're looking for me, but it will be safe. I have a very keen sense of hearing and I will wake you should they approach."

After a moment she spoke.

"Alright but at least share this cape with me. It is yours after all and I can't have you freezing to death on my account."

He was beginning to feel the cold but was loath to admit it.

"Alright." He said quietly.

She moved closer to him and he stiffened. The proximity was real; very real. Christine removed the right side of the cape and handed it to him. He had begun to wrap it around himself awkwardly when she moved closer still. He looked at her.

"What... what are you doing?" He asked, genuinely perplexed.

She smiled. "I'm keeping warm." They both knew that she was doing more than that.

"Relax." she said as she rested her head on his shoulder.

What is she doing?

Hold her.

Erik's hands remained in his lap.

Hold her, you great clod!

Christine could see that his arm wasn't going to move so she pulled his left arm around her. Thankfully he caught on quickly and immediately tightened his grip around her as if someone might take what he had finally acquired away from him. With that, she moved in closer still and wrapped her hands around his waist.

As The Phantom, Erik had maintained a certain presence of confidence. When Christine had first ventured down to his world he had seemed utterly in control; powerful and knowing. Now, as Christine rested her head on his shoulder for the first time she realized that there was another side to him; somewhat shy, inexperienced, forever doubting his deserving of anything great that befell him.

It dawned on her that he may very well have had little to no physical contact previous to tonight.

At this point Erik could not contain his happiness and was visibly smiling.

Finally.

He had waited an eternity for this and for once in his life he felt normal.

Neither of them spoke but at that moment they were both contented regardless of their surroundings and whatever this night held in store for them.


Soon enough Christine was asleep; her head against Erik's shoulder as if it always had been there. He wished he could somehow capture this moment so that he might re-visit it at will. He didn't know how long it would last or if anything this marvelous would ever befall him again. Truthfully he didn't know what this night held in store for them. He usually trusted his own judgement but the short delay back in his home could have cost them dearly. For all he knew this could be the first and last time he holds Christine or feels happiness; the last time fate allows him that foreign sensation of hope.

Make it count.

Carefully, Erik pulled Christine close and closed his eyes, revelling in her warmth. Never had he felt so contented and in spite of his promise, he could not help but doze off...