Author's Note: It's a shorter chapter, but the next chapter is written. It just needs to be typed up on the computer. I'm really hoping to get it done in a timely manner, but clearly it's been a problem for me in the past :( I hope you enjoy!

- Phantom's angel

Birds chirped and the air was crisp as Christine stirred within the grasp of the fantôme. Though she did not fully wake, Christine knew that she was being held in the arms of the specter. Her chin turned into her frigid host's form, embracing the light tremor of her body with a groggy moan. A grace of air trailed across her cheek, settling her nerves as her feet dangled beneath her supported legs. She was secure with the fantôme, yet as her eyes began to grow more alert with the coming of dawn, she could feel his grip was wavering.

Morning was coming.

The light would soon wash over the land and with the sunlight, the fantôme would be unseen to Christine again. His power over her would diminish until night fell once more. The oncoming morning was bitter sweet, for Christine dearly wished to stay another day, but she knew she had to depart and return home. She had stayed for too long already and her fascination with the woods was beginning to become dangerous. For the time being, Christine savored the chills which confined her, nestled close to her protector and let the spirit take her back down again.

There was no one to wake Christine later that morning. There was no cloak covering her sleeping form, nor was it hanging from the tree branch. There was no music filling the air, and there was no masked figure watching over her. There was nothing to hold her back from leaving. She simply woke up on her own.

As she turned to leave the forest, a cold blast of air pushed through her chest, brushing back her hair and fanning out the folds of her skirt. It stopped her in her path, drawing tears into her eyes. He was there, watching her leave and begging her to stay in the only way he could. A faint tug at her finger tips confirmed it all, but she could not stay. Her pity for the fantôme could not override her desire for life.

If the fantôme had any power over her, it would be the power to make her stay. He could have wooed her all night, trapping her in his web of emotion, but his power was now gone. Reason had settled upon Christine's already structured mind, and she knew her next move.

Wiping away the droplets in her eyes, Christine continued walking on.

Perhaps the spirits of Perros truly were more dangerous than she had expected.

The cottage seemed bare when Christine first approached it. Had Papa left everything unattended? As Christine turned the corner, she was stunned to find Philippe's horse stationed outside of the front porch. Her heart dropped low into her gut, dreading what could possibly have drawn him to her home. She prayed this had nothing to do with her absence or the idea of spirits.

Christine quickened her pace, nearly running as she flung the door open.

Papa's face first caught her glance. It looked aged and distressed, clearly disheartened by her disappearance. She mouthed his name, broken that she had hurt her dear father so. He stood up immediately, stunned with silence. Neither Christine nor her father could move, but rather stood and stared at each other.

"Christine?" she heard another's voice say from the opposite side of the room.

It was Raoul, breathing a sigh of relief with her name.

She couldn't move further than the doorway. While her relief that it was not Philippe overcame her, the new dread of confronting Raoul seemed even worse.

Daaé rushed across the room now, grabbing a hold of his daughter's shoulders and threw his arms around her. He ran his arms up and down her back, testing by his touch that she was truly there. Christine closed her eyes and let her father shower her with affection. He said not a word, but simply let his relief take hold of them both.

Raoul slowly approached their happy reunion, immediately wishing to embrace Christine as well. As his arms wrapped around her, he pulled away quickly and looked at her cautiously.

"Your skin is like ice," he gasped.

"I am fine," Christine said, grabbing ahold of her friend's fingers.

"You are freezing," Raoul insisted, looking down now at her hands.

"But I am back now," Christine asserted. "And I am safe."

"And for that, I am thankful," Papa Daaé said, interrupting the sudden tension.

"Papa," Christine cried, "I am so sorry to have concerned you! I was foolish not to speak with you first."

"For now," Daaé said, "I am only happy you are safe."

They held hands for a moment, though Christine knew that his eyes warned of a serious conversation in the future. Christine pulled herself into her father's embrace again and rested her cheek against his chest. She felt alive having another human embrace her so. They shared a long moment together, relieved to be united after what felt like an eternity.

"Pray, where did you go, Christine?" Raoul inquired.

"It matters not," Christine said. "All is well now."

"It matters greatly," Raoul said eagerly.

Christine's eyes darted to her friend, piercing into his. The tone in his voice was sharp and judgmental, demanding information rather than offering his support.

"In time, I may repaint my journey," Christine said. "But for now, I think it is best that I let myself rest."

"It is a simple request, Christine," Raoul insisted. "Tell us where you were."

"You have no control over my actions," Christine barked. "I shall not be cornered into telling you like this."

Raoul look up a stance that was very familiar to her. His arms were crossed up over his chest, shielding himself from Christine's protests. His head cocked partially to the side and his lips were smirked in a tight line across his face, framed beneath a heavily furrowed brow. He looked very much like his brother in all of the conversations Christine had with him.

"If you intend to tell your tale later, is it not better to simply let it out now?"

"How I express myself will be determined by me and only by me."

"I only speak to defend you, Christine," said Raoul.

"I shall not be defended by your demands," Christine said. "When you are prepared to discuss the matter civilly, I will consider consulting with you, but until then, I do not wish to speak of this."

"Just know, Christine, that you are dealing with things far out of your control," Raoul said. "Though I admire your persistence, realize there may be others plotting against you."

Poor Papa Daaé was standing adjacent to the quarreling youngsters, distress written across his face. The toll that Christine's absence had on him was already making his features ashen with worry, but now speak of ploys against Christine was all too much for him to handle.

Christine caught her father's eye and ran to his side, holding onto him tightly. She kept her nose buried in his chest, gripping tightly to his shirt.

"Say it is not so, Christine," Daaé said quietly to her. "Have you created enemies here?"

"I cannot speak for those my friend suggests are against me," Christine "I can only answer for my own actions, which I will."

"Then tell me you will remain safe," Papa said.

"Yes, promise your father, Christine," Raoul said. "Tell him you will no longer put yourself in danger."

Christine's head turned immediately to the sound of Raoul's voice.

"My absence had little danger involved. Less, it would seem, than the threat you seem to associate with, if my feelings are correct," Christine said.

Raoul thought back to the old woman and her proposal to Philippe. They saw Christine as a detriment to the curse. But why?

He looked up to Christine, who was awaiting an answer from him. There was no answer as to why the woman said what she had said. There was no telling what Philippe would do. It all wasn't making sense, yet he knew he had to tell Christine.

"You have no response?" Christine demanded.

Raoul looked between Charles Daaé and his daughter. There was already great suffering on Daaé's part. Even Raoul had suffered, though he had his guesses as to where Christine had gone. Yet there was no use inflicting more pain. Not today.

So Raoul bowed his head.

"Forgive me, Miss Daaé. Perhaps there are some things better left to another conversation."

Rather than stay any longer, Raoul excused himself from the home to allow the family time to heal. There would be a time and a better way to present the topic Raoul had originally come to discuss with Christine. There was so much darkness filling Raoul's heart with the knowledge he had overheard in his brother's meeting with the old woman, he knew it was best to remove himself from this for now.

As Raoul mounted his brother's horse, he heard a sob from inside the cottage. He peered inside and saw Christine fall into her father's arms without a word. He tried to cradle his daughter within his arms, but she had taken to the floor and pulled his hands down with her to follow. Darkness was gripping the hearts of more than just the de Chagnys. Raoul turned his horse and kicked his haunches, directing the stallion back toward the South.

Christine broke down and told her father everything that night. He was informed of the korrigan sighting, Philippe's odd requests from her, the ghoul's attack and the fantôme who had saved her. She did not get into the exquisite details of the fantôme himself, nor the dreams she had been having, for those seemed a bit more personal to her. Yet everything else was detailed exactly as it had happened, including the deep pity she felt for the spirits who were damned to wander the earth alone. How could it be that a spirit as gentle as he be denied the chance to live in the afterlife?

Now the information was out and after hearing it out loud, it seemed that Christine actually WAS able to communicate with the spirits of Perros. But Papa wanted nothing more from his daughter. He took her words and wrapped his arms around her, holding her head tight against his chest. He truly required so little from Christine, be it a fault of a virtue. Christine saw it as a blessing at the moment. Though his words of consoling were pointed, she could not have asked for a kinder way to speak on the matter.

Christine felt horrible the moment that Raoul had walked out the door, knowing that she not only had left her father in a state of dreadful fears, but also her only friend. Though, what weighed on her even more was thinking back to her departure from the woods and the fantôme she had left behind. It pained her knowing that she left behind somebody who felt so much from her presence. And yes, it was like he was someone. Despite his death, who knew how many years prior, and despite that he was forbidden access to the Creator, Christine felt he was very much like herself. Trapped.

Regardless of her feelings of pity, Christine knew she had to go back home. Playing amongst the spirits was no place for a living human, and she knew she needed to recreate normalcy in her life. It was time to make new friends, meet new people, and truly acquaint herself with the traditions and customs of Perros. There was nothing to trust in the presence of a fantôme. Even now, she wondered if perhaps this was the way the fantôme took hold of their victims. By drawing pity from them and then capturing their hearts, much like the ghouls. It seemed plausible, but Christine had plenty of doubt regardless. She felt the fantôme was sincere and felt terrible for even disrupting his peace with her childish curiosity.

And this was how she left the conversation with her father. That Christine was going to move forward and do her best to make life comfortable for she and her father. Before retiring for the night, Papa kissed his daughter's brow and pulled her in close for an embrace.

"Through all of this, do not forget the power within yourself," he said stroking his hand over her yellow hair.

"I will be sure to make you happy, Papa," Christine said.

"I am very proud to be your father."

Christine turned away, feeling she was quite the opposite lately. Perhaps it was her finally coming out with the truth that had made him so proud, but until that point, many of her actions could have disappointed any parent.

"I am more proud to be your daughter," Christine said.

Daaé smiled down to his daughter, letting another kiss lightly press against her forehead.

It sure was good to be home.