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

AN: Okay, I'm sorry to say that this story is almost over. It's a shock, I know, but it really is nearing the end. There's just a couple more chapters and an epilogue, and then that's it. However, there will be another story posted after this one is done, and I hope that people will check it out once it's posted. Thanks, and please review!

Chapter 26: Truth Can Hurt or Set You Free:

"What do you mean she's gone?" cried Raoul de Chagny as he leapt from his chair. "I thought you had people watching her every move. How could she be gone?"

"Raoul, please," Christine said, her delicate fingers gripping his coat in an attempt to get him to sit back down. "You are not helping anything by yelling at Monsieur Craven. Please, sit down and calm yourself before you do something rash."

The three of them were seated in the managers' offices, the de Chagnys occupying the two chairs across the desk from where Roland Craven sat. The older man had contacted the couple after hours of searching for his daughter, who was once again missing from her rooms.

Evidently, no one had seen Aria Craven since her lunch had been taken to her quarters. The maid had later returned to retrieve the tray, only to find the place empty, the meal dishes cleaned of their contents, stacked and waiting. The maid had shrugged it off, thinking that her mistress had simply gone out for a walk through the Opera House for exercise. She had dismissed any ideas of wrongdoing, and had gone back to her duties without concern. When she later returned with a tea tray, however, she was surprised to find the room still empty, the fireplace gone cold, and the candles burned down significantly without any indication of having been replaced.

At that point, the serving maid had become worried and gone off to inform Monsieur Craven that his daughter was not in her rooms, and that she probably hadn't been there for hours. Alarmed, Roland had ordered the maid to gather the stagehands to search the Populaire for any sign of Aria. The men were soon gathered and dispatched to search every room they could for clues. Even the ballet dancers joined in the fray, but despite their efforts, no one could find a trace of Aria.

After hours of wasted effort, Roland began to think that perhaps he should try a different approach. Deciding to see if anyone had actually seen Aria at any point in time during the day, Roland began calling employees into his office in groups of five or six. This particular strategy managed to produce results, though not very much. Some news came while questioning the afternoon cleaning crew. One boy mentioned seeing two women walking through the Opera House after lunch, but couldn't see who they were. The boy had followed them, but had lost their trail in one of the many unlit hallways.

Roland had let the boy go, but quickly sent an urgent message to the de Chagny estate, pleading for the Count and Countess to come to the Opera House at once. Within an hour, Raoul and Christine were in his office, their eyes full of concern and alarm as they took their seats. Once he had settled into his chair, Raoul cut straight to the heart of the matter, asking what was wrong. The response was not what they wanted to hear, thus the Count's displeased reaction.

"It is as I said, Monsieur," Roland replied, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "Aria is gone, and I have no idea how it happened."

"Did you seal up the passageway in her room?" Christine asked, before Raoul could.

"Yes, yes, I did that," Roland said, waving his hand absently in their direction. "I also tried to keep people watching over her front door, but it was not as effective as I'd hoped."

Christine sighed. "Monsieur, I hate to criticize you, but even I know that having any Opera House workers perform watch duty would be a bad idea. They tend to get bored very quickly, and before too long, they go back to their duties, especially when there's a performance opening soon."

Roland shook his head. "I realize that now. I should have changed tactics and hired armed men to stand at her door, but with the opening night of Carmen approaching, I didn't have the time or energy to do it." He sighed. "Now I wish I had."

Giving him a comforting smile, Christine reached over and placed a firm hand on Raoul's arm, keeping him firmly in his seat. "It is not your fault," she softly replied. "You did not know that this could happen again."

"We all assumed that the Ghost wouldn't risk taking Aria a second time, especially when the secret doorway into her rooms had been sealed," Raoul said, attempting to be composed and civil. "But now Christine and I must go and fetch her back before it is too late."

When the Count and his wife stood, Roland rose from his chair as well. "I'm going, too," he declared. "I want to face the monster that has twice taken my daughter. Let me arm myself, and then we will go together. Besides, I imagine that you could use some help."

Stomping her way through the caverns, Madame Antoinette Giry was trembling with fury, betrayal, and fear. She was angry that Erik had done this to her, but knew that she should have seen this coming. He was, after all, the Opera Ghost and the Phantom of the Opera, and he would have his own way when it came to making himself feel happy and loved. Plus, after sending the de Chagnys down to his home, Antoinette felt she deserved the sting of betrayal.

Fear, however, was quickly drowning out the anger and hurt. As she approached the special hidden door that led into the Phantom's lair, she silently prayed that she would survive this encounter with the Ghost. In the back of her mind, Antoinette hoped that neither he nor Aria had done anything stupid in the hours since she had left the young woman alone in Box 5 with her masked lover. Swinging the door open on silent hidden hinges, Madame stepped into the lair and listened.

The sound of a feminine giggle reached her ears, and she could hear it coming from the bedroom. Hiding herself in the cover of an open doorway, Madame looked out of the hallway she was in and peered into the main part of the cave. Out of the Phoenix bedroom flew Aria Craven, dressed in a filmy nightgown and robe, quickly followed by her love, the Opera Ghost.

'No, not the Ghost. I really should call him Erik,' Madame thought to herself as she watched them run through the cave in a game of chase. 'He no longer looks like the lonely soul he once was.'

The man before her was not the Ghost, but was, in fact, a man. Running around the cave in loose pants, black slipper-shoes, and a green velvet robe tied tightly around him was a content, happy man chasing the woman he loved. Madame watched as he caught Aria up in his arms, causing her to squeal and giggle as she was whirled around the room. It was so sweet and so endearing that Madame couldn't help but chuckle out loud.

Upon hearing the sound of her voice, the couple stopped in their tracks, Erik putting down his beloved to turn and face the intruder. "Who's there?" he demanded, green eyes scanning the cave.

Seeing as she was caught, Madame decided to reveal herself. "It is I," she replied, stepping out of the shadows. "I came to see if Aria was here, and I see that she is."

Erik drew himself up to his fullest height, green eyes looking down upon her with hard determination. "You cannot take her from me," he declared. "She is mine, do you understand? She is my wife."

Madame stood there in shock. Aria was his wife? She had married Erik, the Opera Ghost and Phantom of the Opera, the man responsible for so much terror, pain, and fear? Looking at the two, Antoinette's eyes landed on their left hands and saw the glimmer of gold wedding bands. Yes, they were married, and they were happy to be with one another, so who was she to interfere with such wedded bliss? Besides, after so much suffering on both parts, they deserved it, didn't they?

Smiling her support and joy for the two of them, Madame strode forward and hugged the newlyweds.

Sighing contentedly, I leaned further into Erik's embrace, his arms tightening their hold on me in order to pull me closer. We had just finished a delicious supper of a roasted chicken and fresh bread that Madame Giry had gone and purchased for us in the city, as well as a small vanilla cake decorated with tiny roses made of frosting. As was tradition, Erik and I each fed one another a piece of the cake before sharing a kiss in front of Madame Giry, who was playing the mothering role by serving us supper, cleaning up afterwards, and then leaving the two of us alone for the rest of the evening.

With our stomachs full and our hearts content, Erik had led me to the couch in the music room. There, he laid himself down and held his arms out to me, silently asking me to join him. Smiling, I happily did so, my head resting on his shoulder as we savored the blissful aura that surrounded us like a warm, silken blanket. Erik's hands rested on my head and back while mine were gently placed upon his chest; beneath my fingertips and my cheek, I could feel and hear the soothing rhythm of his heart beat.

"I must be dead," Erik muttered into my ear.

"Why would you say that?" I whispered back, my eyes drifting up to meet his.

He sighed and smiled. "Because I am married to an angel, one who has saved me from the darkness of my soul," he replied, his voice soft and gentle as he began to caress my back with his fingertips. "You saved me from my solitude and the creature of madness that I had slowly been turning into. You are my Angel of Salvation."

"Oh, Erik," I whispered, tilting my head to press my lips to his.

When our kiss broke, I put my head back on his chest and sighed contentedly, relishing the fact that I was Erik's wife. 'Madame Renault,' I thought to myself with a smile as I looked at my left hand. There was my diamond engagement ring, sparkling in the flickering light coming from the candles along the walls. 'I am Madame Aria Renault, and my husband is the Phantom of the Opera.'

Then again, perhaps he was the Phantom no longer. Erik was a changed man now that he was no longer alone and despised by all of Paris. He had me to stand beside him and to love him, so perhaps he would stop being the Opera Ghost and simply become Erik Renault: composer, artist, and husband.

"Aria!" cried a voice through the darkness.

Erik and I both startled together, looking at one another in shock and confusion. "Who could that be?" I wondered aloud, glancing around the room.

"The question should actually be: where are they," Erik muttered, glaring at the wall of the cave. "Although I'm sure I can guess…"

One entrance into Erik's was actually like the mirror doorway in the Prima Donna chambers: a mirror on one side, a passageway on the other. As we listened closely, we heard the voice getting louder and more urgent as they called my name. There was also the sound of hurried footsteps, and I knew that there could be only three people, besides Madame Giry, who would be coming in search of me.

"It's Christine and Raoul, and they have my father with them," I whispered, getting up off of Erik and sitting straight up on the couch.

"They cannot take you," Erik declared as he gracefully leaped to his feet, eyes darkening as he glared at the mirror doorway.

I did not get the chance to respond, because at that moment, the mirror slid open and there stood the Count and Countess de Chagny, my father right behind them. As soon as they saw me sitting on the couch behind Erik, their eyes widened in shock and horror. I then realized that the two of us were immodestly dressed: I still in my nightgown and dressing robe, and Erik in his green evening robe.

'Oh, dear,' I thought, right before the dam burst.

It was worse than he had thought. His daughter, Aria, scandalously dressed in nothing but a nightgown and robe, sitting on a couch behind a barely dressed Opera Ghost. Oh, it could only mean one thing, and that meant that she had been taken advantage of.

"Aria!" Roland cried. "Oh, God, what has he done to you?"

"You insane monster," hissed Raoul as he reached for his sword. "You've ruined her for any future marriages! Do you have any idea what you've done to her?"

"How could you do this?" Christine asked, sounding as though she were about to be ill. "How could you do this to an innocent woman?"

Roland watched as the Ghost moved to step forward, his body tense with anger as his hands clutched into fists. Bracing himself, Roland reached for his sword, ready to defend himself and his daughter should he have to.

"Erik, no!" cried Aria, her hands reaching out to stop the masked man from advancing. "Erik, please don't do this, don't do anything you'll only regret later."

To his utter shock, the Ghost hesitated, turning to look at Aria with what looked like affection in his eyes. "I will stop if you ask me to," replied the masked man. "But I will do whatever it takes to keep you here with me, my love."

Inside his chest, Roland could feel his heart turn cold. His love? Did the Ghost just call Aria his love? Oh, God, the Phantom was in love with his daughter! No wonder he wanted Aria back so badly that he was willing to kidnap her a second time.

"Papa," Aria said, her brown eyes meeting his blue-grey ones. "Papa, you cannot take me away from Erik. You no longer have the power to do so."

"What?" Roland cried. "I have every right to take you home! I am your father, and you will do what I tell you!" He paused. "And since when do you call him Erik?"

"I call him that because it is his name," Aria calmed replied as she stepped up beside her masked captor. "And no, Papa, I don't have to do what you say anymore. I am no longer Aria Craven. I am Madame Aria Renault, and I am Erik's wife."

I could see the shock in my father's eyes as I revealed my new marriage to him. Beside me, Erik slid his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him as we watched the de Chagnys gape in disgust and horror at my revelation to them.

"You cannot be serious, Aria," Papa whispered, his voice strained. "You cannot love this…this man!"

Biting back an annoyed sigh, I instead gave him a reassuring smile. "I do love him, Papa," I said, putting my arms around Erik's slim waist. "I know that he is not what you wanted for me, but during the months I was down here, Erik was kind, gentle, sweet, and a perfect gentleman. He courted me as any other man would by giving me gifts and treating me as though I were the most beautiful woman in the world."

"Which you are," Erik whispered affectionately, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Then he has lied to you and played you for a fool," Raoul declared angrily. "Has he told you of the murders he has committed, of the crimes of extortion and theft that he has performed over the years?"

"Has he not mentioned kidnapping me five years ago?" Christine pressed, sounding slightly hysterical. "I, too, was brought down here to be his wife, a prisoner in his dark circle of nightmare and fear."

I shook my head. "Erik took you because he was desperate for love," I said with pity in my voice. "I am sorry for all that you suffered five years ago, Countess, but what I experienced down here was, and still is, quite different from what you did. I do not fear Erik, because I understand that everything he has endured in his life due to his deformity."

Raoul snorted in contempt. "And what, may I ask, do you understand?" he retorted, his voice arrogant and full of superiority.

I looked the man straight in the eyes, showing that I was not afraid of him and that I despised him. "I understand that Fops like you and your empty-headed wife could not see past his mask and look straight into his soul," I growled. "It is because of such arrogant, superficial, conceded men and women that caused my husband to hide in the shadows in fear for his life, making him hate himself and the world around him because of one tiny flaw, a flaw that could easily be overlooked if people could see what a great and brilliant man that he is!"

I took a deep breath. "I, however, saw past his face. I saw the talented composer and artist that he is, and the great and respected man that he could be if he wanted to. He has been nothing but good to me, for I have been nothing but good to him." I glared at Christine. "No offense, Countess, but did you ever have the sense and decency to ask what his name was, or if he had one at all? Did you ever try to see the world as he did and feel pity for him?"

The shameful look she got in her eyes was answer enough. She had been eighteen at the time, and should have had the decency to ask her mentor his name when he first showed himself and his home to her. Instead, she had ripped off his mask, something that was a part of him and which had shielded him from the world; it was no wonder Erik had be infuriated to the point of madness by what she did.

But Raoul wasn't giving up yet. "What about the murders, the crimes he's committed? Can you forgive him those?"

"Yes, I can," I calmly replied. "Society forced him to take desperate measure to secure an income and a safe place to call his home. The foolish, selfish, twistedly-curious actions of mankind forced Erik to defend and protect himself from the world. If there is someone to blame, it would be the ones who has treated him so poorly throughout his life."

My father sighed. "You are right, Aria," he muttered, his voice resigned. "Humanity has not been kind to this man, and it is obvious that you have seen something to him that others have not." Papa then turned and looked over at his new son-in-law. "Although it is a bit late for this, I give you permission to wed my daughter, and I wish the two of you many years of happiness in your future."

"Thank you, Father," I whispered as Erik pulled me against his chest.

"You cannot be serious!" roared the Count. "This man is madness itself! You cannot let her stay with him as his wife!"

"I have no choice, Monsieur de Chagny," Papa told him. "She is obviously married, and if Aria had had any say in the matter, which I'm sure she did, she would have done it in a proper church with a priest and signed documents." He turned towards me. "You do have documents, don't you?"

"Yes, Papa, they are over there on the desk," I said. "If you wish to confirm it with the priest, though, we would be happy to provide you with his name and location."

"No, but if I could see the marriage certificates, it would greatly settle my mind," Papa replied as he walked to the desk.

"You are all mad!" Christine cried out. "The only way you could all agree to his whims is if you were all as insane as he is!"

"I agree," ground out her husband. "Let us get out of here and leave these mad folk to themselves and pray that it is not contagious."

Raoul then grabbed his wife by the hand and stalked back up the passage way, dragging his babbling wife behind him. Papa, who had been reading over the marriage papers, turned and looked over at us.

"Well, I don't suppose we'll be hearing from them again, do you?"

"Let's hope not," Erik muttered, holding me close.

Hours later, Papa had been escorted up to the Populaire by Erik so that he could work on the production of Carmen. Opening night was tomorrow, and Erik and I had both promised to be there watching from Box 5. Now, though, Erik and I were curled up in our bed shaped like a bird.

'I rather like the thought of this being our bed instead of just mine,' I thought while drifting off to sleep, Erik's strong arm wrapped around my waist. 'I can't think of a better place to fall asleep at night and wake in the morning for the rest of my life.'

As though he could hear my thoughts, Erik muttered what sounded like an agreement.

AN: Please leave a review! Thanks!