Why me?

Dear God, let it be over. Please. I've failed to carry out your order.

The water was so cold, so biting. She wished it would swallow her; anything but to feel this. I'm so alone. Her legs buckled under the weight of the wet layers of her dress and she stumbled ungracefully to the shore. Keep moving. Just for one last time. I have to… The room was closer with every step she took; the room that he had prepared for her.

Her murderous Angel.

The heart she thought unfeeling only moments ago leapt to her throat, making it impossible to breathe through it. She felt dizzy as she pulled back the curtain slightly.

The first thing she noticed was the soft sound of the musical box and her eyes fell on the little table beside her bed. The box and the mask. This is what you wanted to see?

If only she could forget those memories! Never before in her life did she imagine that her Angel was a man, a very quick-tempered man in fact! But now the raging monster was on his knees, singing softly with the musical box, his voice cracking on the words.

I don't want to hear this! Let it be over!

"Christine, I love you."

Her heart clenched in her chest. Is that pity?

He tried to kill Raoul! He tried to kill everybody around us!

Against her right mind she took a step towards his huddled form and saw how his teary eyes brightened with hope.

Not this! I can't bear his tears; I can't bear his adoring gaze! Why me? Oh, God, why me? I'm not strong enough for this!

Her throat tightened with helpless tears as she lifted her hand to take off the ring he had given to her; to free her finger for Raoul's ring to wear.

Why didn't I die in the fire?

She took another step and slowly, distractedly touched the ring on her finger.

His lips have been so soft… trembling… salty…

The room seemed to spin around her, walls trapping her as they came closer. There were voices, a lot of them, and they were angry… a woman screamed… people shouted… the chandelier dropped to the ground… The shattering sound of the breaking pieces…

It was because of him, it was all because of him!

Because of me…

Why me, God?

Something tugged at her dress and she looked down; her Angel – the Phantom – reverently bowed his head to kiss the wet hem of her dress.

You try my patience…

The merciless creature who minutes ago had been so very determined to force her into marriage was now murmuring something against the white fabric she couldn't understand, clutching at the material pleadingly. Don't make this more difficult… Thankfully he didn't lift his eyes to hers again until something dropped to the back of his hand.

I don't want to see the tears!

"Christine, I love you," he breathed again, his voice lost behind resigned tears, hope lingering behind his broken gaze. Faint reminder of his look after I kissed him…

No! Those tears wouldn't sway her determination! She would have her happy life with Raoul, safe and content, never having to worry about the future, feeling cared for and loved. The huge mansion was already before her eyes, the house she would share with her adoring husband, where she would raise their children, playing with them in the sunlit garden for long hours after dinner. But at nights she would cry herself to sleep, twisting a ragged black ribbon between her fingers…

Don't tell Madame Giry that it wasn't during practicing when I scratched my knee.

Of course I won't, child.

"I can't do this," she moaned, fighting for just one sip of air. Why me? Why now?

She half sank, half fell to the ground, feeling his scrutinizing look upon her trembling body. A murderer, Christine, a murderer!

"He loves me!" She cried out suddenly to the voices, almost expecting to hear their torturing answer again. It never came.

"I know," a broken voice said and when she opened her eyes again there was only her Angel in front of her. "Go with him and torment me no further," she heard him order and his words echoed in her tired mind several times before they faded into some kind of twisted melody.

Where you long to be…

Air left her lungs in one, shattering sob she no longer had the power to keep from escaping. Her whole frame was shaking; it was so cold down here! It seeped through her skin, her mind, freezing her from the inside out. I'm alone; I'm alone to make a decision.

Why don't you help me?

Christine, I love you.

He was so close, so very close. If she reached out she could touch his hand, the only part of him she dared to look at, his eyes bore so many memories; it was frightening. Her outstretched arm shook violently until it brushed lightly his, then she clasped his hand forcefully into hers. He didn't respond; she had to close her eyes to shut out the pain. It's over.

Angels do exist, child. Believe in it and he will come to you.

He's not an Angel, Father!

Have faith in it!

Her arms flew around his neck and she pulled herself closer until she felt his heaving chest under hers but he still gave no answer, only when she buried her face in his neck did she feel the light touch of his hand on her back, only then did she realize the sound of suppressed sobs and the hot tears on her shoulders. She closed her eyes to store this feeling deep inside her, the relieved feeling of acceptance and safety. It smelled like him and she inhaled that scent deeply, hoping it would stay there in her heart forever.

"I'd never… never…" It took her moments to realize that she heard her own voice, distorted and hoarse, foreign to even her ears, wishing to finish the sentence in vain.

"You shouldn't do this," he whispered but tightened his grasp on her at the same time. It felt too good to let go and she gathered handfuls of his shirt into her fists.

"I wanted you to tell me what to do," she breathed weakly, not leaving his embrace even for to look into his eyes; she didn't need to see them anymore to know what he thought, his voice told her everything she needed to know.

"You refused to obey," he said and made a little movement that she considered as a shy caress; it created the first warm sensation inside her on that long night.

"I didn't want it to be like this," she told to his shoulder while snuggling against his frame, surprised to feel an unfamiliar sensation building up slowly inside her. Protected.

"Nor did I."

- o -

What takes so long, Christine?She said she only needed two minutes. It was certainly more than that. Who knows how much time they had until that monster decided to change his mind and carried out his plans? Every moment they spent down here brought more danger on them.

Raoul jumped from the little boat to the shore, rushing to the curtain with long strides where Christine had disappeared minutes ago. She said two minutes. What if he harmed her? What if he punished her for her disobedience? What if he abducted her again?As soon as it appeared in his mind Raoul tried to chase away the image of his beloved lying limply in the arms of that… something.

Before the frantic thoughts could take control over his mind he yanked back the curtain hurriedly, but staggered back immediately. Christine was kneeling on the floor in front of that madman, who was holding her in his arms, most probably against her will. Why did it hurt so much then? Seeing her to kiss the so-called Phantom to save his life was painful enough, but this… Her hands were fisted in the back of his shirt… Clinging for dear life… Why, Christine?

No, obviously it wasn't against her will that he was holding her. As much as he wished to see the scene before him that way it was clearly with her consent, his grasp on her back was nothing but a light touch of the palms. Her head rested against his shoulder… What have you done? Why him? What does he have I don't? The stone of the wall pressed roughly into his fingers as he tried to brace himself against it. Christine, why?

Contrary that he felt muted by the sight before of him he must have made a noise for she turned back, lifting guilty eyes to his. That creature in front of her leapt to his feet abruptly, the only thing stopping him from launching forward was the still hunched Christine before him but soon she stood up as well. It was evident how he wanted to brush her aside but she looked back at him; it wasn't enough, she also touched his hand timidly.

Lovingly…

That earlier raging beast obeyed her – the lunatic who almost killed him earlier now backed away because of a woman! Even if that woman was Christine it was still unbelievable. If a sight could kill, though…

His eyes are red… Who could have thought that a creature like him is able to feel at all…

Christine turned away and whispered something into his ears – leaning so very close to that face – his eyes briefly fell on him then they quickly returned to hers, and finally, he took a step back. One! If there was a situation more humiliating than being tied up to a gate, this was it.

- o -

"Why, Christine?" Of all the questions she expected to hear from him he picked the one she couldn't answer. She took a deep, encouraging breath.

"I don't expect you to understand." But please, do.

"I don't."

"I can only hope you'll forgive me one day. You're a good man, Raoul; I know you will."

"Better than him?" It was so easy to notice the bitterness in his voice; he didn't seem to want to hide it at all. Why isn't there a less painful way to do this?

"Yes." There was a feeble sound behind her back but she refused to turn around. Let him know the truth.

"Have you planned this all along?" Raoul's voice was so weak, so tired, so – disappointed. But the worst was that she knew he was right; that didn't change her feelings, though.

"No. Not at all." Tears were gathering in his eyes and all she could feel was guilt; its power was overwhelming. Don't let this start anew! She reached for his hand and though he stiffened beneath her touch, permitted it. "I wish you all the goods in your life."

"So this is it?"

Yes. "Forgive me."

"Is this your decision or his?" He asked, looking over her shoulder but she quickly sought out his sight. Don't tempt your fate.

"It's mine." My fault. She gave a little squeeze of his hand. "Now go, please." Why am I crying, then? "Go," she whispered again and felt how he reluctantly withdrew his hand, then with one last look, disappeared through the curtain. She let the tears fall freely. Now it is over.

She stood unmoving with heavy heart, only when a hand came to rest on her shoulder did she whirl around. Erik was standing beside her, his eyes full of uncertainty but he said nothing. No. I won't change my mind, Erik.

"He's gone," she sighed and made an attempt to forget - even if permanently - what had happened.

"This place isn't safe anymore," he explained and she picked up the noise coming from above; blurred cries and shouts, seeking revenge. It terrified her but not him; he stood still, waiting for answer to a question he didn't asked. He still didn't take her hand as she expected. Don't you believe me?

Looking around franticly she could now make out the contours of a white puddle on the floor and she rushed to pick up the forgotten veil then walked back to him.

"I will need this." Amusement flickered in his eyes briefly as she returned to his side, waiting for his guiding arm. At long last he offered it; having it in her grasp was like finding what she was searching for for so long.

"Why do you crave for a sinner's guidance?" He asked, watching her intently. She should have known better than to think he wouldn't count her earlier words back.

"Why do you want me to change my mind so badly?"

"It's foreign. To have you by my side."

"I'm used to your guidance," she answered while sliding closer to his strong frame. He lead her somewhere without a word but then suddenly rounded on her.

"Why me, Christine?" He choked and stopped right in front of her, his eyes bearing into hers.

She couldn't help but smile sadly. "Do you remember how I scratched my knee when I was eight?"

"Everything," he replied earnestly and she believed him without a doubt.

"That's why." Would you believe me?

He made no more questions.