Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Phantom of the Opera. Only original stuff is mine.

AN: Sorry about what happened in the last chapter, but I promise that was the worst of it! I was going to make this more adult, but now I don't think I will. Anyway, after this story is over, please keep an eye out for another Phantom fic I'm going to post! Thanks, and please review!

Chapter 8: The Past Revealed:

It wasn't long before he emerged from the newly-inhabited lair, his precious burden sobbing into his shoulder. Although he wanted to give her something to make her sleep, just so he could go back and dispose of the creature who took her, Erik wasn't about to leave Alisa alone in the Opera House for more than a split second.

'He could easily find her and take her from me again, and there is no way that I will let that happen,' he thought to himself as he emerged into his own office via a secret passage.

Thank goodness he remembered that his office still had a passageway connected to it, one he kept open in case of a fire or emergency. If people saw him carrying a hysterical Alisa through the halls, there would be many uncomfortable questions, most of which he would not be able to answer. The best thing he could do was calm her down, take her back to the mansion, and…

'And what?' Erik asked himself. 'What do I do once I get her to my home? How do I explain my knowing the caverns like the back of my hand?'

There had to be a way to convince Alisa that he had knowledge of the underground caves, but it would all be lies. Taking a deep breath, Erik pushed open the hidden doorway to the interior of his office and stepped inside, grateful that there was no one there waiting for him. Using the heel of his shoe, he kicked the door shut and carried Alisa over to the couch in the center of the large room. Kneeling down slowly, Erik gently placed her onto the soft, velvet-like cushions and removed his right arm from beneath her knees. Raising his fingers to her head, he gently combed them through her hair.

"Alisa?" he gently asked. She whimpered in response. "Alisa, I'm going to fetch you something to quiet your nerves." The arms she had around his neck tightened their grip. "I swear to not leave this room. Instead, I will go to the alcohol cabinet and pour you a bit of whiskey. Is that alright?"

The head underneath his chin nodded, and, reluctantly, Erik pulled himself away, swiftly moving to the other side of the room to pour a glass of the amber liquid. Hesitating for only a moment, he poured himself one as well, carrying both glasses back to the couch and offering one to the trembling form that was his love. When she did not take it, Erik set his own glass down and knelt beside her, wrapping his left arm back over her shoulders and pulling her close while his right hand brought the glass to her lips.

"Here, drink this," he whispered. Alisa moved her face away. "Please, darling, you need this. I need you to drink this."

Her brown eyes turned back towards him, looking him up and down for any sign of false pretense. Finding none, she puckered her lips and began to take a shaky sip. She coughed after the first swallow, indicating that she'd never had such powerful stuff before in her life, but bravely took another drink once she'd settled down. When half of it was gone, her nerves had settled, and she stopped trembling in his arms.

Satisfied that Alisa was at least partially calm, Erik reached over to the table and picked up a small, black device that had a large red button on the top. Pressing it and holding it down, he waited. Soon, a small beep could be heard, giving him the exact signal that he wanted. Satisfied, he set the device down and turned towards Alisa, who was now giving him a scared, puzzled look. He gave her a soft, reassuring smile before speaking in a tone that was just as gentle.

"I've called for the limo to pick us up at the rear of the building," he said while pulling her close. "It will be here in moments to take us back to my home. Is that alright?" To his relief, she nodded. "Can you walk, or do you need to be carried?"

Instead of letting her answer, however, Erik merely took her half-empty glass and set it on the table before sweeping her up into his arms.

The entire trip between Erik's office at the Opera House to his house was a blur to me. I knew that people were stopping to look at me being carried around in his arms, and that Erik was giving out vague explanations, but other than that, I couldn't remember anything. All that I knew was that Erik was taking me someplace safe and as far away from the Opera House as possible. During the ride to the mansion, I could hear Erik calling people on his cell phone through my daze. I managed to figure out that he was sending people to do things, such as fetch us dinner, drinks, and other comforting things from town, since food began appearing not long after we pulled up to the front door.

Before I knew it, I was inside the living room and seated before the roaring fireplace, a warm blanket wrapped over and around me as Erik fussed over my every need. A rather elaborate meal was spread across the floor like a fancy picnic, the smells reaching my nose and tickling it with delicious temptation. The growl coming from my stomach indicated that I needed to eat something, but I wasn't sure if I would be able to handle it.

"You must eat," Erik whispered as though he were reading my mind. He then sat down to my right, on the other side of the feast he'd ordered for us. "Come, you will like the soup; it will do you good."

The kind, caring look in his green eyes made me open my mouth and accept the spoonful of soup he was offering me. I quickly opened my mouth and accepted it; as I swallowed it, I was pleased with the savory tomato broth flavored with herbs and spices. Obediently, I ate the whole bowlful, though I didn't taste much of it after the first few sips. Erik tried to get me to eat more, and in order to not waste the food, I began to nibble my way through the numerous dishes set out before me. It was nothing fancy, but since it was French cuisine, I felt obligated to eat it, as Erik must have paid quite a bit for them.

There were some bread slices with various toppings, as well as miniature quiches and croissants, both stuffed with melted cheese, bacon, vegetables, and other things. Little fruit tarts with whipped cream and cherries on top, served with a bottle of fine red wine, accompanied everything. It was quite elegant, and even though I could hardly taste anything through my shock, I greatly appreciated the gesture and told Erik so. His face seemed to light up when I complimented his food choices.

"It is all basic comfort food, my dear," he said, gathering the dishes and standing up, setting them aside on a table near the door before returning to his spot beside me. "I am glad that you liked it."

I gave him a small smile, but did not answer, instead turning my head towards the fireplace. We sat there for a moment in silence, staring at the dancing flames. In the depths of my mind, I tried to understand what had happened, tried to think of who could do such a thing to me. The thought that I'd almost been forced upon by a strange, terrifying man left me feeling cold, as though a part of me had been taken away and that I would never get it back. It made me shiver.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped themselves around me, pulling me against a warm body. Instinctively, I leaned into the embrace and pressed my right ear to his chest, savoring the comfort that Erik was trying to give me. Through the thin material of his shirt, I could feel his heart beat and the heat that came from his skin. A moment later, I heard his voice humming a soothing song to me, causing his chest to vibrate pleasantly beneath my ear.

All of those things together stopped the shakes that wracked my body, the sound of Erik's wonderful voice slowing down the fearful pounding of my heart. His hands drifted in soothing circles along my back, his fingers seeming to pull the tense feelings out of my muscles so that I was practically a limp doll in his arms. To my surprise, Erik gently shifted his position, laying us down onto the floor and stretching out with me next to him, his left arm cradling my head to his chest as we both lay there before the warmth of the fireplace. My back soon became very warm, as it was facing the fire, but I found it cozy rather than unpleasant.

"Feeling better?" Erik whispered as his right hand came up and tangled his fingers into my hair.

I sighed and snuggled closer to him, my head still on his chest as he held me tightly. How long we lay there, I didn't know, but what I felt was that I was in quite possibly the safest place the world had to offer. Erik made me feel protected, like a person with an angel watching over them; his arms were like sheltering wings, driving away the evils that tried to harm me, and his voice wove a warm blanket to drive away the cold and the pain.

Erik's voice was a soft whisper as he spoke to me. "Alisa…" Tilting my head up, I found myself staring into deep, sorrowful green eyes. "Alisa, there is something I must tell you, even though I fear that you will never believe my words and turn away from me after you have heard them."

I gave him a soft smile. "I could never turn away from you, Erik," I whispered, my hand coming up to caress the left side of his face. His eyes were hopeful as I spoke something I had realized several days ago. "I couldn't do that because…" I could feel Erik's chest stop, holding his breath as my voice trailed into a pause before I continued. "I love you."

A tremendous breath escaped his lungs in relief, his arms wrapping themselves tighter as he pulled me towards him, crushing his lips against mine as he sought to claim me as his own.

She loved him! Alisa, the beautiful, kind angel in his arms that was too happy to return his kiss, was in love with him! Him, the man who was once the Devil's Child and the Phantom of the Opera!

The last thought stilled his heart, sending ice through his veins. His past was still a concern; sooner or later, she had to wonder about how he had managed to rescue her so quickly from the madman beneath the Opera House.

'How ironic,' he thought, reluctantly pulling himself away from the kiss he had been sharing with his beloved. 'I am now the heroic prince and another is the evil monster that desires the love of a woman to save him from his solitude!'

Taking a deep breath, Erik closed his eyes and savored this moment, fearing it might be his last with the woman who had his heart.

I could tell something was wrong when Erik broke our kiss. There was an air of sadness around him where there had once been joy, though I could tell that he returned my love with a vengeance. Through the torrent of emotions that surrounded him, I could sense that hesitance and fear were what occupied his heart now. Why he would feel that way was a mystery, and in order to drive away his pain, I knew I had to find out what he was keeping hidden from me. But before I could ask, Erik himself deemed it necessary to tell it of his own will.

"Alisa," he whispered, his hand coming up to rest on my face. "Alisa, there is something you must know about me…about my past…"

Fear that was the mirror image of Erik's filled my heart. "What is it, Erik?" I asked slowly.

He sighed and took my hand in his, pressing it against his chest. "My love, do you not wonder how I managed to find you in a labyrinth of underground caverns? Caverns that no one is supposed to have been through in decades?"

Now that I thought about it, it was a bit strange. "Well, you are the owner of the Opera House," I slowly replied. "It would make sense for you to know about them…"

"Yes, but these caves and passageways were never fully mapped out," Erik said, avoiding my eyes by staring at my hand, the one he had a firm grip on against his chest. "The caverns that had been recorded are only a small fraction of what lies beneath my Opera Populaire."

"The Opera Populaire?" I asked, confused about the change in the building's name. "I thought it was called The Paris Opera House?"

"The Paris Opera House is what it is known as in this century," Erik said, his voice changing as he spoke. "The Opera Populaire is what it was called a long time ago, during the Victoria Era…the Era in which I was born."

The grip he had on both me and my hand tightened, as though he thought that I was going to run. I was very close to doing so, considering that Erik's kind voice had turned darker and more mysterious than I'd ever heard it before. It was as though his very being was becoming a different person, a cloak of possessiveness and deep-rooted need wrapping itself around his shoulders as he pushed me onto my back. My shoulders were soon pressed down to the carpet as Erik positioned himself on top of me, preventing me from moving even an inch.

"Alisa," he whispered. "I was born to my mother during the reign of Queen Victoria of England."

I blinked up at him in disbelief. "But that's impossible," I whispered. "You'd have to be…"

"Very close to two centuries old," Erik replied, one hand lifting to comb his fingers through my hair. "My mother, having been widowed after my father's riding accident, could not bear the sight of the twisted son she bore soon after the death of her husband. It did not help that, as I grew older, my hair and eye colors were my father's."

He sighed and continued. "It probably would not have been so bad if I had been born whole, instead of with half a face. Instead, I had to bear the brunt of my mother's anger and sorrow at not being able to have a beautiful, perfect child that was the image of the man she had loved so dearly."

"What happened?" I asked, becoming lost in the story. I didn't care whether or not he was telling the truth about being centuries old; I just wanted to hear him speak about his life.

"She sold me to the gypsies," Erik whispered, tears forming in his eyes as he closed them. "For a small bag of coins, I was sold to the gypsies as an attraction to bring in money and make them wealthy. I never saw her again…well, not living, anyway." He opened his eyes and sighed. "I visit her, sometimes, at the little church graveyard she's buried in right next to my father. She died not long after she'd sold me, probably of a broken heart from losing my father."

Like any compassionate woman, I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a hug. Erik returned the gesture with a vengeance, burying his face in the crook of my neck as he pulled me closer to him. He didn't release me, even as he continued his story.

"I was pulled through many different countries and cities, attracting hundreds of people to the caravan each night," he murmured into my hair. "Then, one night in Paris, a group of ballet dancers came to see me, The Devil's Child, trapped in a cage. Antoinette…she saved me from the mob that night, after I had destroyed the man who tormented and beat me. The little ballerina brought me to the Opera Populaire and became my only and dearest friend. Dear, dear Antoinette Giry…"

'The Devil's Child? Gypsies? Antoinette Giry? ' I thought. 'Wait, isn't that the story of…'

Erik sighed again into my hair before pulling back to look me in the eye. "You know what happened to me after that, my love," he said, caressing my face with his hand. "You know it because you have seen it and heard the music that I wrote for it, the ones I gave to the composer, Andrew Lloyd Webber, over twenty years ago."

For a few moments, he watched as Alisa processed the information he'd given her. Her facial expressions danced between disbelief, confusion, pity, and…could that be…awe?

"You're the Phantom of the Opera?" she whispered, her voice oddly childish in tone. "Then how can you be alive after all this time?"

"I was the Phantom of the Opera," he corrected. "As to how I am still alive…well…believe it or not, it is due to a magic spell." He watched as an amused smile tugged at her lips. Strangely enough, he returned it. "Ah, you should not laugh at things you do not understand, my sweetness."

"Then tell me about it, O Phantom," she teased, though her smile was honest and true.

Erik shook his head. "It was foolish of me to try it," he said. "I was 25-years-old, I had been looking through the library of the Populaire and discovered a text filled with what appeared to be magic spells. Since I was dreadfully bored, I took it to my home and experimented with it by casting a spell to light a fire that would burn even the wettest piece of wood. To my amazement, it worked, and as I became arrogant of my success, I decided to try a more advanced spell…a spell to bring me my soulmate."

Alisa's eyes widened as Erik continued. "At first, I did not think it had worked," he said, twirling a lock of her hair around his fingers. "Then, two years later, Madame Giry returned to the Populaire with an orphaned little girl in hand."

"Christine," Alisa stated, and he could swear that she looked angry. "Silly twit didn't know what she missed out on." She blushed as those words left her mouth.

He chuckled. "True as that may seem, it was not until after she left with her Vicompt that I realized that she was not the one for me." Erik continued to toy with her hair. "After she left, I nearly killed myself in my despair, fearing that I would never find someone to love me as I so desperately wanted."

Alisa gasped, as though she feared he would do himself harm at that moment. Erik smiled and kissed her forehead in reassurance. "You feared what happened next, though you need not do so. I was spoken to by a higher power, either the magic of the spell itself or someone/something else, which declared that I was not to die until I found the other half of my heart." He looked into her eyes.

"Is it…me?" she squeaked, staring up at him in disbelief. "You've been waiting all of this time, through so much heartache and loneliness, for me?"

"Yes," he answered, bringing his lips closer to hers. "And now I have found you. Through many lifetimes, through numerous identities that Madame Giry, her daughter, and her granddaughters created for me, and through writing that half-truthful production about my life to discredit Leroux's horrid book…yes, Alisa, I have waited all this time just to find you."

Not hesitating one second, I kissed him. It didn't matter if I believed him or not; I just knew that he loved me as much as I loved him. In my heart, though, I could feel the truthfulness of his words. And as fantastic and story-like as it was, I could feel the connection I had with the man whose body was stretched out above me.

Sighing, I melted into the carpet as Erik deepened the kiss, his hands wondering up and down my body, slipping underneath my shirt to caress my skin. I gasped, allowing his tongue to slip inside and stroke against my own. Above me, Erik groaned, his hands moving further up my body to brush against the edge of my shoulder blade. I heard him inhale sharply when he discovered that I wasn't wearing anything underneath my shirt, and to my surprise, he pulled away from me quickly.

"I'm sorry, angel," he whispered, sliding his hands out of my clothes.

"It's alright," I said, smiling despite the fact that I felt a bit disappointed that we hadn't gone a bit further.

Erik then leaned over and nuzzled my neck. "I'm sorry…it's just…I do not want to dishonor you before…" He paused.

I held my breath. "Before what, Erik?" I whispered as he pulled back to gaze down at me.

Looking up into his eyes, I saw that he was nervous. "Before…" He gulped and sighed, closing his eyes as though he were preparing for something horrible to happen. "Before…we were married."

My jaw dropped. Had he just asked me to marry him? Suddenly, a brilliant diamond ring appeared before me, an oval-shaped diamond that flickered blue in the evening light. It was sat perched on a platinum band, and on either side of the jewel was a decorative 'S'-shaped swirl and three tiny diamonds. It was breathtaking, and I couldn't hold back a gasp of surprise.

Wordlessly, Erik slipped the ring over my finger and kissed it.

Alisa hadn't said that she accepted his proposal, but she hadn't refused, either. If her enthusiastically given kiss and embrace were any indication, though, Erik would have to say that she did, in fact, want to marry him. Pulling her on top of him, Erik broke the kiss and sighed in contentment as Alisa laid her head on his shoulder, her hand rubbing up and down his chest. The movement was soothing, and before either one of them knew what was happening, they had fallen asleep, wrapped in each other's arms.
AN: Aw, they're engaged! I hope it's not too soon for all of you. Please review!