A/N: I would like to mention that the aforementioned illness, is not yet morning sickness. Trust me. That was purely Christine being stressed. There is much more to come.

~o~

Christine watched Raoul as he moved about their bed chamber, readying himself for bed. She had become used to retiring earlier than him and quietly watching him from their bed. Though they had not properly consummated their marital bed, they slept beside one another as husband and wife. She admired Raoul for not pressing the matter since she first voiced her concerns and fears. She had to give him credit for being a compassionate husband.

"Raoul," Christine started quietly, waiting to continue when he turned to face her with a curious look on his face. "Are you angry that I have been shy about being with you? Meg once told me that a man could become angry if you played hard to get for too long."

"Of course not, Christine." Raoul replied, laughing off her question to hide an underlying resentment. "I am not going to rush you. You have been through many emotional trials and I do not want to damage your emotional condition."

Christine looked away.

"Christine, my dear, don't think that I mean that the wrong way." Raoul moved to sit on the bed beside her, taking her hands into his own. "You think that I believe you mad don't you?"

"Sometimes you look at me as you did on the roof top when I told you of-"

"Don't mention him." Raoul warned, shaking her hands out of frustration. "Please."

"But it's true. You look at me like poor crazy girl." Christine's brows knit together. "I'm not crazy. You saw that too! I only approached this subject to tell you that…" She shrugged.

"Tell me what?"

Christine looked up slowly, meeting his eyes, "I am ready to be your wife."

Raoul didn't argue with her or question her a second time. His lips were pressed against hers in a matter of seconds. Sealing her words with a kiss. He was being driven mad waiting to become one with Christine. His wife. His Little Lotte.

"I love you." Raoul murmured as he slowly unlaced her nightgown.

"And I love you." Christine smiled sweetly up at him. She wondered why there was no overwhelming passion coursing through her veins. Why there was no music soaring up around her and enveloping her in the bliss of melody. She had her taste of beauty, and she feared it had been her last.

~o~

"If we are to make another oceanic journey, I wish it not to be a freighter." Meg pouted as the disembarked from the depths of the ship.

Madame Giry ignored her daughter, turning to the masked man beside her. "What will your name be? I am certain immigration will not accept the Phantom."

He gave her a grimace of a smile, pulling forth from his waistcoat and bundle of papers. "I am no fool, Giry. I do have paperwork that proves myself, a legitimate French citizen."

"But-"

"A document can pass even if it is not true."

Giry snatched the papers from his hands, "Mr. Erik Y?"

"At your service." He replied, frowning at her disapproving glares. "America is all about starting fresh isn't it? There is nothing wrong with falsifying documents."

With that, the Phantom found himself passing through the gates of Ellis Island. Despite the mask he wore, a clear sign of some disfigurement, the French man was allowed to enter into New York. One more face in the crowd of the masses that poured into the massive city on a daily basis.

This was where he could start again. Start over without the haunting thoughts of Christine so present to his life. If he had stayed in France he would have been tempted to seek her out again, see her one more time. With an ocean between him he could focus on grander schemes. He glanced towards Meg Giry, her mouth a gape as she stared up at the towering buildings being built above them.

"There are so many!" She peeped, grabbing her mother's arm in joy. "Look at them all!"

She would be a suitable progeny. She was no Christine, but her voice was passible. Madame Giry had always wished that he would take on her own daughter to train, and now she could find herself under his tutoring.

~o~

Was she truly supposed to be so ill, so fast? It had been only a few days since she had finally submitted to her husband in their marital bed. Could she possibly be suffering from morning sickness? Did that happen so soon?

She couldn't let the thoughts of him fill her mind when she thought that perhaps the child wasn't Raoul's. Raoul hadn't mentioned that she was not a maid. She hadn't bled. No, that had been reserved for him.

She gasped as her stomach suddenly twisted in knots again. It felt worse than she had a few weeks ago, when she was ill. Perhaps she was only sick. Perhaps this meant nothing. It had only been two days of losing her stomach.

"Christine?" Raoul asked as he entered their bedroom, spotting his wife lying on her side beside her chamber pot. "Oh Christine!"

"I don't feel well Raoul." Christine whimpered, wrapping her arms around her stomach and crippling over.

"Christine, it's alright. I'm right here. I am here beside you." He wrapped a secure arm over her back, using his free hand to hold her hair back as her stomach betrayed her again.

"I don't understand why this is happening."

"You're going to be alright." Raoul reassured her, stroking her back. "This will pass."

"Two days this week, Raoul." Christine rasped, turning to press her cheek against his chest. She wrapped her arms around him, clutching to him. "What's wrong with me?"

"I don't want to jump to conclusions, Christine." Raoul replied, rocking her gently back and forth. "It may only be a simple sickness."

"But it could be…"

"Yes."

"Oh." Christine's eyes opened wide with surprise.

"But don't think of that. Don't get your hopes up. It's far too early. Instead think of this. There is something that is to be delivered today."

"What?" Christine asked, covering her mouth as she felt ill again.

Raoul kissed her cheek, "When you are able to leave this spot I will show you."

"Is it the piano?" Christine grinned broadly, for a moment forgetting her rolling stomach. "Oh Raoul!" Christine startled him as she through her arms around his shoulders and buried her face into his neck. "Thank you!"

"Despite Phillipe's adamant protests, I did it."

"This house needs music. It is so quiet… It's so empty here without music." Christine's eyes grew wide with excitement. "Now I can sing again! I can soar high with songs! Oh! To think that there will be music all around."

"Yes." Raoul smiled stiffly, "But you promise me that you won't let the music overtake you again. Not in the way that it did before."

"You mean when he was my tutor?"

"Don't speak of him, Christine. I don't want to hear him mentioned in my life."

"I'm sorry." Christine looked away. If she could have her music back she knew that everything would be okay. Even if she couldn't see her angel again, she could remember him every time she opened her mouth to sing. He was there inside her mind. Even if he wasn't there. He was there.

Even if she was pregnant with his child and not Raoul's and if she never saw him again… The memory of their one night would haunt her mind until the day she died. But she knew that she had to forget him if she desired her marriage to survive. Raoul would never approve of her mind drifting to her phantom.

A/N: I have no idea where this is going to go, but I have plans. Bear with me.