Quick disclaimer: I haven't read the book, I'm basing this off of the movie version with Emmy Rossum and Gerard Butler. Also, the end will be drastically different, in that I am a massive Johnlock shipper. So keep that in mind. I know Mary is Raoul but John craves danger and the phantom might just be who he needs. Any who, please read and review :)
Molly Hooper frowned as she glanced among the sea of familiar faces in the back room of the opera house. Where was John? She questioned a few of the dancers and got pointed in the general direction. Of course, John would be in the chapel, lighting a candle for his late father.
Molly entered loudly so she wouldn't scare him and sang quietly.
Where in the world have you been hiding?
Really you were perfect
I only wish I knew your secret
Who is your great tutor?
John smiled and took Molly's hand.
Father once spoke of an angel
I used to dream he'd appear
Now as I sing I can sense him
And I know he's here
Here in this room, he calls me softly
Somewhere inside, hiding
Somehow I know he's always with me
He, the unseen genius
Molly frowned. John must have had a short nap while she was searching for him. He must have had a dream.
John, dear, you must have been dreaming
Stories like this can't come true
John, dear, you're talking in riddles
And it's not like you
John's smile didn't falter and he looked away from Molly towards the candle he'd lit in front of his father's picture.
Angel of music
Guide and guardian
Grant to me your glory
Angel of music
Hide no longer
Secret and strange angel
Molly took John's hands and led him away from the macabre chapel. He was looking pale and it seemed as though the depressed mood in the chapel was seeping into him.
"He's with me even now," John's eyes were glazed and Molly pulled harder on his hands.
"Your hands are cold." She told him.
"All around me," John spoke in a daze.
Molly turned back to him, "your face, John, dear, is white."
John seemed to snap out if his daze and looked at Molly with haunted eyes. "It frightens me."
Molly hugged him. "Don't be frightened."
John gasped as Madame Hudson ushered him into his dressing room. Bouquets of glorious flowers littered every available surface. He grinned widely as he stared at the flowers, but he allowed his smile to falter when he noticed the red rose on his dressing table, a black ribbon tied nearly around the stem.
Madame Hudson followed his gaze to the rose and picked it up. "He is pleased with you," she said gently before placing a kiss on his cheek and leaving him. John shivered and sat at his dressing table.
Mary rushed down the stairs towards John's dressing room, eager to speak to him once more. She was stopped, however, by Lestrade and Dimmock.
"Countess! We've found an excellent star in mister Watson, don't you think?" Dimmock exclaimed.
"Perhaps you'd like us to introduce him to you?" Lestrade offered. Mary shook her head.
"No Monsieurs, this is a visit is prefer to make unaccompanied." She curtsied lightly and continued in John's direction.
She opened the dressing room door and quickly closed it behind her. There John was, sitting at his dressing table. He looked the same as he did years ago when they were kids.
"Little Johnny let his mind wander," she spoke as he turned to smile at her. "Little Johnny thought 'am I fonder of dolls or of goblins or shoes?' "
John laughed, "Mary."
"Or of riddles or frocks," she continued.
"Those picnics in the attic," John closed his eyes and reminisced.
"Or of chocolates," Mary was lost at the look of sheer happiness on John's face.
"Father playing the violin," John's voice was dreamy.
"As we read to each other, dark stories of the north."
"No, what I love best, Johnny said, is when I'm asleep in my bed," John let out a deep sigh, "and the angel of music sings songs in my head, the angel of music sings songs in my head."
Mary rushed over to hug John. "You sang like an angel tonight."
John smiled. "Father said 'when I'm in heaven child, I shall send the angel of music to you'. Well father is dead, Mary, and I have been visited by the angel of music."
Mary laughed, "no doubt of it! But now we go to supper. Hurry and change, I'll gather my fine horses."
John's face became stoic, "no Mary, the angel of music is very strict."
Mary laughed again. "Then I shan't keep you up late. 2 minutes, little Johnny." She grinned as she swept out the door. She was so enthralled in her euphoria that she didn't notice someone lock john's door and take the key.
John glanced at himself in the mirror. As much as he'd like to go with Mary, the angel of music would want to speak to him, and he knew he mustn't disobey his angel.
He waited silently for his angel to sing to him, to teach him. It was only a few seconds to ten, and he was always on time. As the clock struck, John heard him sing.
Insolent girl!
This slave of fashion
Basking in your glory!
Ignorant fool!
This brave young suitor
Sharing in my triumph!
John stood abruptly and felt very ashamed. He'd disappointed his angel. The only way he knew of to placate the angel was to sing.
Angel, I hear you
Speak, I listen
Stay by my side
Guide me
Angel, my soul was weak
Forgive me
Enter at last
Master
When the angel replied he sounded less harsh, and his voice wrapped around John like a cocoon, and soothed him like it always did. That chocolatey deep voice that seemed to melt John's bones and take control of his senses.
Flattering child
You shall know me
See why in shadow I hide
Look at your face in the mirror
I am there inside
John had no control over his body as he walked towards the large mirror. He could see himself, but he could also see through the mirror and he saw only black curls adorning a milky white face, but the face was half covered by a stark white mask. His mouth seemed to open of his own accord as he reached out to touch the cold glass.
Angel of music
Guide and guardian
Grant to me your glory
Angel of music
Hide no longer
Come to me, strange angel
John pressed against the glass of the mirror, longing to see his angel, to touch, to feel. He'd dreamt of meeting his angel for so long. The angel extended his arm to John through the mirror and John took it.
I am your angel of music
Come to me, angel of music
John barely registered the thumping on the door, or Mary's hectic calling "whose voice is that? Who is that in there?" All John could focus on was his angel in front of him, his voice beckoning him to step through the mirror, so he did.
I am your angel of music
Come to me, angel of music.
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