"My name?" He repeated in disbelief. "My name…" He shirked her hand away and moved over towards his organ. "It's been such a long time, and I've taken many names."

"Angel, Phantom of the Opera, and Opera Ghost don't count." Rachel said stubbornly while leaning back against the wall. "I want a real name."

"Why should I tell you?" In his black eyes, sparks began to ignite. "You're no different than anyone else."

"Bastard." She whispered. Her word carried on the dusty air and stung at his ears. "That can be your name." Rachel stomped down towards the water's edge and stepped into the petite boat. "Take me back."

If ever there was a time Rachel had been terrified for her life, now was the time when she feared for it most. The Phantom sprinted towards her, snatching a thick rope along the way. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her off the boat only to push her to the ground. A scream shattered her reserve as she scrambled away from him. He froze as she broke into pathetic sobs on the dirt floor. Tossing the rope aside, the Opera Ghost stumbled into the room beyond the veil leaving her to stare after him wide-eyed and petrified.

Rachel leaned forward unto her knees and observed the bruises already forming on her arms. She knew this would happen, she knew she shouldn't have come. She stood up, grimacing at the stab of pain that shot through her spine, and approached a small oak table laden with incomplete operas. Rachel took up his pen took write him a sincere apology.

"Dearest Phantom," She mumbled, "I had never intended to try your brittle patience or to upset you in any manner whatsoever." Rachel paused to refresh the coat of ink on the tip of the pen. "Please forgive me. Should you do so, you know where to find me. Your Rachel."

She left the letter on the table before stepping into the frigid water yet again. Except this time, as she made the journey back, she didn't mind the prickles consuming her body; anything to distract her from the thoughts running through her mind. Her heart was on fire with regrets and everything felt surreal in the most horrid of ways. Rachel shook her head as she though of how foolish she had been for trying to impose upon the Phantom's proclivity to remain guarded. Secrets and the shadowy webs of a painful past were inherent qualities of the masked man. For such a long time she had pursued his trust, and all was lost within several minutes of an unexpected encounter.

She cried out as she finally found a dip resulting in the water to close over her head. Rachel swam to the side and regained her footing. Rachel crossed her arms over her chest trying to warm her heart and lungs. Her breath was now trembling, ragged and it came in short hisses through clenched teeth.

The water's whispers grew into a heavy murmur. Rachel spun around and felt a grin spread across her face as she saw a light around the bend. She rushed towards it knowing full well that the Phantom had read her note and was coming to guide her back. Her smile, however, turned into a frown as she saw that he had not brought the boat, but was plowing through the water as well.

"I, ah, heard you leave." His words dripped like shattered glass. "I was surprised that you didn't take the boat for a less wearisome escape."

"I wasn't exactly 'escaping.'"

He forced a laugh as an attempt to ease the unease brought on by his violent outburst. "You shouldn't have—"

"Gone to you, I know, I know—"

"—Apologized. You shouldn't have apologized. I don't know what came over me. I just let the past control the present and—I don't know." He rubbed his hand over his face in exasperation. "Erik."

"Excuse me?" She quickly pulled her hair back as he fixated his gaze on the water.

"My name is Erik."

"Hm. So he does, in fact, have a true name." She mused playfully before catching his glance with hooded eyes. "Raoul sure was a demon to have such a malevolent effect on you."

"So it would seem. Yet, you seem to have me at a loss. How have you come to know about him, or Christine for that matter?"

Rachel shrugged as she began to walk once again. "I was alive when the grand Opera Populaire was destroyed, you know." She cast an accusing glance over her shoulder. "Maybe you should keep your over-theatrical tendencies in your operas and not try to perform them." She pulled herself out of the water and sat on the ledge. "Well, this is my stop."

"Until we meet again." He took her wrist into his hand, lifted it to his face, and, before releasing his hold, placed the lightest of kisses upon her palm.

"Indeed." She breathed.

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Still short. Oh well.

Looking back over it, I have no idea what I was on while writing.

Anyways, thanks for reading.