A/N: Happy New Year everybody!! Thought I'd bring in 2010 with someone Phantom goodness. Why not start the new year right huh? Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter! I have enjoyed getting your reviews and it made me happy that I still have fans of this story that haven't given up on me over the past, ahem, year and to all the new readers thank you for also reading and reviewing. Please continue to do so because I really enjoy getting reviews!! Tell me what you think of this chapter!

Christine awoke to the sound of whispered, distant voices. Her eyes fluttered opened and she looked around her surroundings. It took a moment to remember where she was. She sat up and found herself tangled in heaps of red sheets.

The last thing she remembered was falling asleep listening to her angel playing the organ. He must have brought her to the bed once she had fallen asleep. She yawned and stretched her arms up over her head.

She tossed the sheets off of her and instantly felt a chill and shivered. She stepped off of the bed and headed towards the black material hanging from the ceiling. She was half tempted to open it but then the whispered voices hit her again and she stopped. Her angel was not alone.

"Honestly, I don't know what were you thinking Erik." An oddly familiar female voice spoke, her voice thick with a heavy french accent.

Erik?

"To be quite honest I wasn't really thinking at all." His voice responded.

"Well that's quite obvious." The female snapped and Christine pinpointed her voice.

Madame Giry?

Madame Giry often had the same tone of voice when she was lecturing her ballet dancers.

But what was she doing down in the phantom's lair? Did she know him? She always figured Madame Giry knew of her Angel of Music for she was usually the one who gave her the roses. But Christine always thought that was because she entrusted Madame Giry with the information about the Angel of Music. Not because Madame Giry knew of his secret.

"This is insane." Madame Giry's voice reprimanded. "You are insane."

"Nothing I haven't heard before." His voice bit back bitterly.

Christine pulled back the curtain just slightly to peer outside. Madame Giry had her back facing towards her with her hands on her hips and the phantom was seated at his organ bench several feet away.

"How could you do this?" Madame Giry asked, stalking forward toward him. Christine winced slightly. Didn't she know of his temper?

"After what you have done at the opera you kidnap Christine as well?" She scolded him. "The Vicomte is mad with worry over this."

He scoffed and his body shifted away from her. Madame Giry let out an exasperated sigh and walked over to stand in front of him. "I know you could care less what the Vicomte thinks or feels but you have put yourself and Christine in danger. The managers are currently trying to calm down the Vicomte but it is not long before they all come looking for you."

"They won't get very far." He replied darkly.

Madame Giry's eyes narrowed. "This was not the time to take her. The poor girl must be frightened out of her mind. If you are trying to get her to return your feelings you need to rethink you methods."

Christine felt her heart drop into her stomach as he whipped his head up. She didn't know if Madame Giry could handle one of his angry tirades.

He rose to his feet quickly and he towered over her but Madame Giry held her stern gaze firm.

"You know nothing Madame." He hissed quietly.

"I know that Christine is very young and was very frightened by what you did during Il Muto. Taking her against her will was not a very smart idea." She snapped back.

A growl like sound emitted from him and he pushed past her. He stood upright, his jaw set hard as he glared out at the lake.

Madame Giry's glare followed his actions and she crossed her arms over her chest as she spun around to face him. "Honestly did you really think that it would work?"

"If you must know Madame..." He started coldly. "I did not take Christine down here against her will."

"Is that so?" Madame Giry asked skeptically.

"Yes." He hissed quietly turning his head to look at her and then turning to face her fully. "She asked me to take her with me."

"If you expect me to believe..."

"It's true!" The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Her eyes widened slightly when both Madame Giry and Erik turned to look at her. Madame Giry had a questioning and surprised look on her face. His face was as unreadable as stone as usual.

She took a deep breathe and bravely stepped out of her room and walked over to where Madame Giry stood.

"Christine?" She questioned.

Christine held her head high and nodded. "It is true Madame Giry. I did ask him to take me with him."

"Christine," Madame Giry started, reaching out to place her hands on her shoulders gently. "If he has threatened you in any way..."

Christine noticed his eyes narrow dangerously. "You think so highly of me Madame." He remarked, dark sarcasm lacing every word.

Madame Giry let out an exasperated sigh and moved to stand next to Christine. She slipped an arm around her and held her against her side. "It's not something I would put past you."

He didn't respond, only continued to glare at her. Christine noticed a flicker of emotion besides anger flash across his face. Hurt maybe? Regret?

"He didn't." Christine quickly yet confidently spoke. His face softened just a little at her words as his eyes flickered to her. His glare disappeared and was replaced with curiosity. She stared back at him for a few moments and then turned to Madame Giry's questioning and skeptical look. "He is not keeping me down here against my will. I asked him to bring me down and that is what he did."

Madame Giry glanced back and forth between Christine and Erik a few times and then finally settled on him. His glare returned but Christine also noticed a small look of smugness to his face.

"Very well." Madame Giry spoke and turned back to Christine. "However, Christine I do think it would be wise for you to return back with me."

Christine opened her mouth to protest but then rethought. Perhaps Madame Giry was right. She said that Raoul was fraught with worry and it wouldn't be long before he came looking for her. And Christine knew that he would. She also knew that the phantom could take care of himself but she didn't want Raoul to be hurt. And she was sure that the trap door he led her over before was not the only one in existence. She shuddered at the thought of Raoul falling into one of them.

Her eyes were drawn back to the phantom. He was watching them intently, his body rigid and tense. But could she leave him? She had wanted so badly to mend the heart that she had broken. But if she left so quickly would that hurt him more?

"Yes." He agreed. "You should go Christine." His voice was still cold. Cold, yet she could hear the hurt hidden deep under it.

She felt Madame Giry tug at her arm and as she did so he turned away from them.

"Wait." She whispered to her and slid her arm out of her grasp. She didn't look at her as she slowly made her way over to him.

She knew he was aware that she was behind him by the way he held himself. "Angel?"

It took a moment for him to answer. "Yes Christine?"

"Will you come to me?" She asked quietly yet her voice was hopeful. "Later? Will you come to my dressing room?"

He cast a brief surprised look over his shoulder but then his face hardened again. "If that is what you wish."

"Yes." She whispered and a small smile crossed her lips. She hesitantly reached out, placed her hand on top of his forearm in a quick affectionate gesture, then pulled away and headed back towards Madame Giry.

They made their way into the gondola still perched on the shore. Christine settled herself down into the small boat and Madame Giry pushed off into the water. She stared at the wooden floor of the boat in silence for a few moments before she slowly looked over her shoulder.

His back was facing them so she couldn't see his face but his body was very stiff and his hands were bawling into fists at his side. Her thoughts drifted back to the rooftop. His hunched form collapsed in the snow, his shoulders shaking with sobs. His beautifully colored eyes glistening with tears. It hurt to see him hurt. She hoped that once she left he wouldn't break down again. Just the thought of it made her chest ache. She continued to watch his still form get smaller and smaller until it disappeared from view and then she let out a quiet sigh and faced forward again.

The journey back to the surface of the Opera Populaire was long and silent. Christine followed behind Madame Giry while she lead the way with a small candelabra she had picked up from the phantom's lair.

About halfway through the journey just when Christine thought she would go insane from the silence Madame Giry started to speak.

"Christine, my dear, I want the truth now."

Christine looked up at her and her eyebrows furrowed. "What I told you earlier is the truth madame. He did not kidnap me nor did he threaten me."

Madame Giry looked over her shoulder at her. "You willing went with him?"

"He did not ask me to come with him." Christine elaborated. "I asked him to take me."

"Why?" Madame Giry's voice was intensely curious.

Christine bowed her head and stared at the ground sadly. "He was so heartbroken Madame Giry." She shook her head quietly. "I just couldn't let him run away without trying to fix what I did to him."

"Christine," She sighed in exasperation, "He doesn't need your pity. He needs-"

She abruptly cut herself off and then never finished her thought. Christine glanced back up at her curiously. What did he need? After thinking about it she could only come up with one answer: love. He needed her love. The only question that arose to her mind was did she love him? She cared for him but did she love him? She honestly didn't know.

"Madame Giry," She started, inquiry in her voice, "How do you know him? You don't seem frightened of him."

Madame Giry gave her a sad smile. "That is because I am not. Nor have I ever been."

"How long have you known him?" Christine asked curiously.

"For quite a while." She responded and turned back to look at her. "Do you wish to hear the tale? It is not happy."

Christine nodded quietly in response, watching her with anxious and curious wide brown eyes.

"Very well." She sighed and stared off in front of her. "It was years ago. There was a traveling fair in the city. Gypsies. I was very young studying to be a ballerina, one of many, living in the dormitories of the Opera House. There were so many different acts of people who could bend their bodies in very strange ways. It was very vulgar, I did not enjoy it very much. A man beckoned toward us, leading us toward a tent, calling, "Come, come inside, come and see the devil's child." We all shuffled into the tent and in the middle of the tent there was a cage. In the cage there was a boy he had to be no older than ten or eleven. He had a bag over his head with only eye holes. He only had a pair of withered old pants and he was covered in dirt and he was so skinny. I had felt so bad for him. Who would put a child in a cage? I asked myself. For a second he looked at me and his eyes were so full of anguish I could feel my heart breaking on the spot. In his hands he held a stuffed monkey which had two small symbols which he was playing with.

The man running the act went into the cage, kicked the monkey out of his hands and knocked him to the ground. He grabbed a stick and started beating him. Then he grabbed him roughly from the top of bag and tore it off his head. Half of his face was deformed beyond anything I had ever seen. The boy's eyes were closed, on the good side of his face I could see the anguish and humiliation. The other girls had all started to laugh. But I could not. I could not laugh at this poor boy's misery. After a minute, the man let the boy go and he sulked away into the corner pulling the bag back up over his head. Everyone started threw coins into the cage and started to leave but I was the last one to go. I didn't want to leave him

Madame Giry paused and glanced over her shoulder at Christine. One hand was on her chest and one was over her mouth. Her wide brown eyes were glistening with unshed tears as she listened to the horrific tale.

"I heard a struggle just as I was leaving the tent," Madame Giry continued, "I thought the boy was being harmed but it was the boy attacking the man. When he was dead, the boy grabbed his monkey and looked up at me. He found the key and unlocked the cage and I wasn't the only one who had heard the struggle. The other gypsies came into the tent so I grabbed his hand and I ran as fast as I could with him towards the Opera House. The mob of angry gypsies were close at our heels. But I let him in through a secret window that led to the chapel and I went around front and met up with him to bring him somewhere safe. I hid him from the world and its cruelties. He has known nothing of life since then except this Opera House."

A single tear rolled down Christine's cheek. Well it was no wonder he hid himself in the caverns of the Opera House. He had had a terrible childhood, his deformity on display for all the world to see. And instead of helping him they laughed and beat him. How cruel the world was to such a brilliant person.

"That is horrible." She whispered. "You were the only one willing to help him."

"People do not like what they do not understand." Madame Giry stated. "He was different."

"You said they called him 'The Devil's Child'? They thought he was evil because of his appearance?"

"Yes." Madame Giry answered in a near whisper. "They did. They thought he was some sort of a demon. A monster."

"He's not a monster." Christine protested. She felt the ache in her chest again.

Another sad smile crossed Madame Giry's face. "It is good you think that Christine. He needs someone to understand him."

"You understand him." Christine answered.

"Yes." She responded. "But someone besides me. He has known me for more than half his life and he needs someone else. Someone who is not frightened of him."

"I'm not frightened of him." Christine said. "At least not his appearance." At Madame Giry's questioning look she continued, "His anger is very frightening."

Madame Giry furrowed her brow. "He has gotten angry at you?"

Christine grew sheepish and bit her lip softly. "Only because I removed his mask. I was curious as to why he wore it and he seemed so peaceful when I approached him. But he then grew terribly angry when I removed it."

"So you have seen his face?"

Christine nodded. "Only for a second but it was enough to know that I am not afraid or repulsed by him. His anger is what scared me the most yet he thought it was his face."

"His temper is quite short." Madame Giry agreed. "He is very sensitive about his face and after the story I have told you you should understand why." Christine nodded. "He is afraid that whoever sees it will run away in fear and call him a monster. He appears very hard on the outside but that is just a cover. I have seen his hurt only a few times since that day at the fair and now you have too."

"You were speaking so harshly to him." Christine noted looking up at her sadly.

"I am the only one who is not afraid to." Madame Giry responded. "And there are some things that he needs to hear. Because he has lived down there for most of his life he is much like a child. He needs to be told what he is doing wrong and he needs to be scolded. He knows I am only doing it out of love."

"Do you love him?" Christine inquired.

"He is very much like a brother to me. I care for him deeply. Sometimes he has a hard time believing that but it is true."

They stopped in front of what appeared to be a glass wall. But through the wall she could see the inside of her dressing room. Madame Giry handed her the candelabra and pushed open the glass wall to reveal her dressing room. She suddenly remembered the first time the phantom took her down into his lair. She remembered seeing him in the mirror and then stepping through the mirror. She realized then that the mirror had been moved aside for her to step through.

As soon as she stepped out of the dark passageway and into her dressing room she felt like she had stepped into another world. Her dressing room was so full of light and color where as the phantom's lair was so dark.

"I will escort you to your bed chamber." Madame Giry told her, taking the candelabra back from her, extinguishing the flame and placing it down. "You look exhausted my dear. I will keep the vicomte away until morning."

Raoul. Yes, that would be wise. She couldn't deal with his questions and accusations. He would surely blame the phantom and she couldn't explain what had really happened. Raoul wouldn't understand.

Christine followed Madame Giry to her bed chamber and was silent the whole way. Her thoughts were consumed with everything Madame Giry had told her about her mysterious angel.

"Get some sleep Christine." Madame Giry said once they had reached her room. "You have had a long night and you deserve a good rest." Madame Giry squeezed her hand gently and went to turn around to leave.

But she had a question that couldn't be left unanswered. "Madame Giry." She called out to her. Madame Giry paused in the open doorway and looked at her expectantly.

"I heard you call him a name. Erik?"

Madame Giry nodded once. "Yes."

"Is that his name?"

She nodded again. "It is. Goodnight Christine."

"Goodnight Madame." Christine wished and Madame Giry left the room closing the door behind her.

Christine let out a breath and sat down on her bed. Erik. With every little detail she learned he seemed more and more human. And know she knew his name.

Erik.

She didn't have to call him Angel anymore. And where she would always think of him as her Angel, he wasn't an Angel. He was a man and as a man he deserved to be called by his name.

Erik.

She loved the name. And it suited him perfectly. It was a strong yet peaceful name.

She settled down into her bed, rested her head on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. She closed her eyes eventually and imagined him singing to her like he used to do when she was a child. Only now she had a face to match the voice.

"Goodnight Erik." She whispered to the air and slowly drifted off to sleep.

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