Was he truly reduced to be a side show act? No. Contrary to Madame Giry's belief's he was only there because he had great aspirations of purchasing the small freak show. Where else could a man that hid his face with a mask be at peace? Despite that it reminded him of his terrible beginnings, he persevered. He would start over in America. Madame Giry worked her magic on those she needed to to succeed and Meg worked her charm with the men in charge to gain them permanent residence in America.

In no time he would own the side show and make it the dream of something so much larger come true.

~o~

Music! Sweet and beautiful, hypnotizing music. Christine looked up from the piano with a beaming grin across her face. "Oh, thank you Raoul! Thank you!"

"I like seeing you happy, my little Lotte." Raoul laughed, placing his hands on the smooth surface of the piano. "I love seeing you beaming and I love more than anything to hear you sing." He moved around the piano, standing behind her and looking at the sheet music. "Think of me?"

"I kept it. From my dressing room. It's the only music that survived the fire."

"Did he compo-"

"Oh no! No… Don Juan was the first piece he had ever composed for the Populaire to use." He had composed many a song for her private use but those had not survived.

"Think of Me was the first time I saw you." Raoul remembered, kissing her shoulder lovingly.

"It was not the first time I saw you."

"And when did you see me?"

Christine chuckled, "When the new owners introduced you. I was one of the Hannibal chorus girls."

"In chains?" Raoul asked, giving her a sheepish grin.

"Did you see me?"

"There were several pretty brunettes." Raoul admitted, apologetically.

"Well I was no longer the gawky little girl you once knew."

"No, you were a young woman."

Christine leaned up and kissed him, "Your wife."

"My wife." Raoul gave her a playful wink. "Now, my wife, I must give you bad news. I am to leave you for several weeks at the hands of Phillipe and Reinette."

"But Raoul-"

"No buts, my love. It will be fine, I promise. They are not always preying creatures. Occasionally they bare their souls." Raoul laughed, "I have matters to attend to in Monte Carlo, they will keep me half a month. No more."

"But I need you." Christine pouted, she had learned to lean so heavily on Raoul. She needed him to guard her and guide her. She tried her best to be a woman but she failed at knowing what it meant to be in charge of her own life. Without the instruction of Madame Giry, the rigid schedules of the theatre, and her angel's guidance, she found herself floundering. She had never had so much alone time as she did now in the massive manor.

"But look at this," Raoul gestured to the piano. "I leave you with music."

"Yes!" Christine bubbled with joy of the piano still. She wondered if it irked Raoul that she was slowly slipping back into the giddy joy of a child. She had slipped back into that comfortable setting when she first realized the fear of carrying the Phantom's child. What if he or she was born as he had been? Raoul would certainly know then! If she continued such an innocent pursuit perhaps Raoul would forgive her when the truth was revealed.

Though she would never lie about the matters of the conception. She would leave it at the true paternity and not dare breathe a lie that cast any more shame on her angel's name. It was a truth that her marriage forbid and yet she would not lie and she would not say that it was his if the child was born perfect. How could she even think of the child's face? How could she call it perfect when she thought that the Phantom was perfect exactly how he was?

"Christine?" Raoul asked curiously, watching as Christine sank into thought. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." Christine started, blinking her eyes slowly. "I was thinking of… how lonely I will be without you."

"I have grown used to having you with me too." Raoul kissed her cheek. He found her significantly more peaceful to be with now that they were truly man and wife. There was no awkward fear of making a mistake and slipping past her barriers of trust. Though he found her barriers broken he did not fear that she had known another man. She was too innocent and shy in their marriage bed to ever make him doubt her faithfulness.

"Perhaps when you return our questions will be answered." Christine smiled, crinkling her nose. "To think me, your wife, with child! When we were just children a few years ago!"

Raoul tapped her on the nose, "Little Lotte! Let her mind wander."

"Little Lotte thought am I fonder of dolls-"

"Or of riddles."

"Or shoes!" Christine giggled, "No whatever best Little Lotte said, is when the ang…" She cringed, "I'm sorry Raoul. It's only our old rhyme… That was before it all became real."

"Before a deranged man took the form of your deceased father." Raoul spat, shaking his head in disappointment. "If his face were not so hideous then it was his intentions that lay bathed in sin."

"Raoul!" Christine protested, "He did not take the form of my father. I never once looked at him as my father."

"And how did you look at him?" Raoul gritted.

"I…" Christine was at a loss for words. "I looked at him as… my tutor."

"You never once thought of him as anything more or less?"

"I hardly knew him. I only knew that he was a gifted musician who wore a mask." Christine shrugged, staring at the piano. "He taught me to appreciate the tiniest aspects of music"

Raoul stepped away from her, his eyes knit together in frustration. "Do you not see him as a deranged murderer Christine? You speak of him with such admiration, with such lo-"

"Raoul!" Christine gasped, ashamed that her husband would jump to that conclusion. "Please, you're leaving. Let's not argue."

"You do though! You have placed him on this pedestal. He killed Bouquet! He killed Piangi! He had a noose around my neck! He threated my life for your love. He was a mad man!"

Christine looked away. There was no point in trying to point our redeeming qualities that she had found in her strange angel. Qualities that had led her to giving herself to him; body, mind, and soul. Even if he had left her, she knew he had to have meant well. He couldn't have known that she would accept him in the light of day. He was so misguided that he must have assumed that she would hide from his face in the morning. He was afraid and he too was childlike.

"Oh, Christine." He took her hands in his. "I don't mean to throw my hatred for him at you. I don't mean to speak ill of the dead."

"What?" Christine turned, wide-eyed.

"You did not know?"

"Know what?"

"They recovered a body in the Populaire. It seems that though the smoke ceased its billowing some weeks ago, that the tortured soul returned just before the fire ceased burning within. A body was found, nearly destroyed by flames, at the mouth of the lake. The mask was seared to his skin in the flames that consumed him. He appears to have tried to return to his world but was caught in falling debris and killed."

"No." Christine held her breath, shaking her head fervently. Had he gone back to his world after their union? Was he so ashamed of who he was that he lay on the bank and allow himself to be consumed by flames?

"I'm sorry Christine…" Raoul hugged her to his chest as she began to cry. It pained him to know that she wept for the loss of a murderer, but could understand that the spell he had cast over his wife was now broken and it was a devastating loss for such an innocent spirit.

A/N: I hope you are all enjoying my take on PotO and LND. I'm enjoying a bit of a rewrite, fleshed out story.