A/N: This is the story of what happened after the final lair scene, at the end of the ALW version. Does not tie in with LND!

Definitely an E/C story. May be some racy scenes later if I can write them well enough! I started to write this such a long time ago and I just keep editing and changing it – I'm hoping that if I start putting chapters up here it will force me to just get on with it and get it finished in some form or other. This is my first attempt at fanfic so any comments or suggestions to improve this gladly welcomed. x

As the little boat started to move back across the darkened waters of the lake, Christine instinctively held on to Raoul but her unblinking gaze never left Erik's face, their eyes locked on each other even as he slowly faded from her view. Raoul's ragged breathing echoed across the cavernous chamber, his body shaking still as he pushed them away from that strange little house on the lake.

They were both silent as they made their way through the dark tunnels. The sound of their breathing echoed harshly against the dank, mildewed rock. Raoul held tightly to Christine's hand and she stumbled after him, till at last they came to the imposing iron gate that exited onto the Rue de Chalis, a quiet cobbled alley along the back of the Opera house.

Raoul led her out into the chill evening air, their breath misting slightly before them. The lamps were lit and bright reflections danced in the puddled streets, damp with past rain. They made their way around the building towards the main entrance. Perhaps their unkempt appearance and lack of proper outdoor attire might have drawn glances on another night, however, Christine became aware of a commotion, the sound of people still gathered at the front of the building. A large crowd had formed of passers by and evacuated audience members all jostling each other curiously, stopping to watch the rescue efforts after the collapse of the giant chandelier. The people of Paris were not adverse to a free show and already the gossip and rumours smouldered. They were blissfully unaware of the true reason it had fallen, or of the terrible drama that had just played out so far below them in the darkened bowels of the Opera. Christine shivered, the heat of her blood no longer protecting her from the cold.

As if in a daze, Christine let Raoul lead her away from the bustling crowds and towards the street. He soon found what he was searching for, one of the many advantages of his position as a wealthy Vicomte - his waiting carriage. Raoul spoke briefly to the driver and handed Christine up into the carriage ahead of him, before hauling himself into the warmth of the cab after her. As the carriage rumbled along briskly, Christine stared out of the window, the pads of her fingers pressed to the cold glass as she watched the Opera House disappear from view behind them. All she could think of was his face – his face, those eyes…

He had shown her mercy. He had let them go - it was finally over and she was free of him and his control. That was what she had wanted, wasn't it? Freedom?

Christine looked across at Raoul; his handsome face now pale and grimed, his hair unkempt. He still trembled. Harsh red welts were visible on his neck where the lasso had chafed and cut against his terrified struggling.

"You are injured Raoul.'

She spoke gently, reaching forward to touch his pallid cheek. His eyes were wide, haunted by the horrors he had seen and it was clear he was in a state of shock.

"You must be seen by a physician. Your neck – is your brother at home? He will see to you?"

Raoul nodded mutely, then suddenly seemed to come to himself, he blinked and looked at her in concern.

"Christine – I am so sorry – I failed you. Are you hurt? Did that... thing hurt you at all?"

She smiled distantly at him, his sweet face, his boyish innocence.

"No, I am… just so tired. I need to rest… some time to recover myself. If you can escort me to my apartment I will be fine."

He tried to argue but she squeezed his hand in her own.

"Let me rest, Raoul. Let Phillipe take care of you, then you can call for me tomorrow evening, or perhaps on Saturday. I will not be alone, Madame Valerius will be there. I will take a little laudanum and then I will sleep. You must not worry so. Please Raoul?"

He sighed, his eyes closed briefly against the weight of the night's events. How was it that this frail, gentle girl was now the one to comfort him?

"Yes of course, Christine. I just want to look after you. To make sure you are safe. I... I love you."

Bright, fresh tears glistened in his eyes and his face became tortured.

"Oh, Christine! When we are married I will never leave your side, I'll make sure you are always protected. I won't let you down again."

As he looked into her eyes, she felt a sudden wave of warmth and pity for this poor boy, who was so devoted to her. This was her freedom, then. A lifetime by his side. Christine leaned forward and kissed him gently. A moment later she rapped loudly on the wooden roof of the carriage, before touching her fingers to Raoul's cheek.

"Goodnight, Raoul."

The carriage came to a halt. Before he could move or protest she alighted from the carriage and closed the door firmly behind her, hurrying up the steps and into the dimly lit foyer of the apartment building where she lived.

Behind her Christine heard the clatter of hooves as the carriage moved off and she fumbled for her spare key, which she kept hidden beneath a pot plant in the entrance hall, before scurrying up the narrow staircase.

Once she was inside with the door safely closed behind her, she finally allowed herself to sink into a shaking heap on the floor.

Four notes, sotto voce. An aching whisper inside her head.

Her heart was hammering inside her delicate chest and she could not slow or calm its beating.

X.X.X