I apologize for the long wait again. It's been insane out here. But here's the latest chapter. I think that there will only be one more chapter after this. I'll see.

This is dedicated to drgn grl and to being an independent woman who doesn't need a man. (Funny thing to put in a romance story, I know.)

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Don't sue me.

Orry cursed as he stumbled for the hundredth time as he made his way down the crumbling stairs. His torch was growing dim and he was getting tired of rushing down the stairs only to stumble and nearly fall to his death. How many times had he told himself to go slower, both for his safety and Katrina's safety? But no matter what his brain said, his feet rushed ahead of him. They weren't listening to him. Neither was his heart. His heart was crying and screaming and raging against his chest, fighting to get out and to rush to Katrina's side. He loved her. He did.

He slid down the old stone steps again, yelping as his tail-bone struck against a particularly unforgiving stone. He'd better love her, putting up with all this. If he didn't love her, why would he be risking his neck down here? He stood back up and made himself stop trying to rush down the stairs. He stepped to the side and sat on the edge of the banister. He set the pack at his feet and fought to catch his breath. He wouldn't get anywhere like this...Katrina was counting on him.

Katrina. God, how long had it been? Years. She had been fourteen when she had first come to the Opera House and the J.O.P training school. She had always been different. With her different fashions, her different attitudes and her different ideas. She never slept in the dorms after her first week. She hated the other J.O.P girls with a passion and refused to spend "another sleepless night listening to the prattle of the cattle". She had moved into that disused closet and the company had let her. Even he had thought her weird at first. She always had different colored hair and seemed to prefer her solitude to any company. The only person she really talked to was the flamboyantly gay cook. She listened to strange music and sang without caring if anyone heard her or not. She was content to tech for the productions and was thrilled to get a part, any part in the plays.

Then Liana had befriended her by accident. They had been mortal enemies up until the day that Katrina had yanked Liana out of the way of a speeding taxi and Liana had glomped onto her and had sworn to never hate her again. Then they found they had more in common than not. He had been dating Liana at the time...worst relationship choice of his life. But she had been beautiful and they had looked good together. Then they all started hanging out. Slowly, they accepted her into their circle. Liana, JT and him. A fourth member was added and she never left. Katrina. She was there for both him and Liana when they had broken up badly. She was there for JT when he came out of the closet. She was there for the plays, the drama, the tears and the laughs. She had become a huge staple in their...his life...

His heart banged uncomfortably as he stood up again. He wanted to run to her. He wanted to be there for her as she had always been there for him. He shouldered his bag and started back down the steps, his eyes automatically watching the ground as he walked and thought. But as much as she had been there for him...he didn't know much about her. Like...why she always dyed her hair different colors. Why she liked purple so much. Why she preferred songs by bands that no-one really knew. Why her family had only visited a few times. Why she was so different yet so peaceful with being herself. Why...why? Why didn't he know? She talked so much. ...and yet said so little. Like-

He was interrupted as the floor suddenly went out from under him. And he fell down into blackness.

Katrina closed her eyes and listened as Erik started to play for her. The notes climbed higher and higher, as if ascending to heaven. She could almost hear the triumphant trumpets welcoming home the tired angels who had been working so hard down on Earth, trapped for centuries. Now they were coming home and were to be given all the pleasures that they had been denied...The music took her higher and higher, leaving tingles across her skin as if brushed by the tenderest of fingers. She was safe from pain and truth and choice...and other poisoned devils saying, "We don't give a f-ck about you...". Like he did...

She was being caressed all over by the warmest, most caring hands. She felt her soul get lifted up, higher than the clouds. This was her domain, here she was a goddess, worshiped by angels. Throw away the limitations, here they didn't care. They were accepting. Be yourself. Burn your bridges. Forget all other light except this heavenly wonderfulness that was the music that Erik created.

For music was the magic. The magic was music. And Erik was the center of it all. Deep in the music, she opened her eyes and looked at the man playing the organ. He was just as lost to the music, his eyes closed. He was playing from memory, playing from the heart, playing from the very soul that she had come to know.

She stood up off the couch. He still played, lending that angel voice to the cords. She walked as if in a trance to him. She stood next to this angel at the organ. The music changed, became completely different. She opened her mouth and suddenly words poured out of her mouth, singing to the music...

"Never truly abandoned. Never really forgotten. Never quite perfect but the words speak true. Art never dies - just sleeps awhile
in hearts and minds until dim embers blaze into a roaring inferno that consumes minds to Muse."

Erik picked up where Katrina's beautiful notes faded and his voice rang out, "To Muse, to dream...to feel the music swell within your breast. Love never dies - just slumbers for years in shuddering hearts. Love still rings as true as the day it was first conceived in the forbidden place..."

Katrina sang out as he finished his part, feeling her heart pick up it's pace. "The dance is never done, the music never fades. All you need do is move once more to the beat of your own heart...Never truly abandoned, never really forgotten...never quite so perfect, yet the words ring true!"

The piano stopped playing, the Phantom stood. He wrapped his arms about his Angel and looked into her eyes as he sang just for her, "Let the love rise again! Let the heartbeats ring out their own pure melody. Let the Angels weep at the glory of the Heaven within Hell! Art, love, purest feelings of all!"

Katrina wrapped her own arms about him as they sang out together, their voices blending so beautifully..."Let the phoenix of Muses rise! Let the colors of the heart bleed together to create a new and yes, quite so perfect, forever dancing, forever beating, forever flying love! Dying embers once more blaze into the all-consuming inferno...!"

Their lips met. He was lost to the intoxicating venom that was Katrina and she was lost to the swirling music that was Erik. They held onto each other gently, his naked fingers embedded in her purple hair, her hands locked about his thin neck. He felt her heart beat, he felt her quiver as he consumed her with his kiss and she felt his passionate soul leak from him into her. She gasped for breath, loving the light-headed joy that he could give her. He wanted more of her. To feel more. No more barriers. With an impassioned movement, he pulled his mask away.

"Erik-!"

Orry fell hard onto the stone floor. He instantly knew that something had broken. The snap had been loud. He swiftly rolled over, onto his stomach and quickly sat up. No, not his back. No, not his legs or arms. His wrists were fine. Not his neck. Not his skull. He checked over each and every rib before dismissing them. Then he realized what had broken. His flashlight. "Dammit!" He cursed, throwing away the now useless torch. Where was he?

He looked about, it was too dark to see anything. Far above him, he heard the trapdoor that he had fallen through slam shut. The darkness was a complete darkness that made him think that he was seeing things. Things swinging, things stalking in the dark. He heard something, like the rustling of old papers. He closed his eyes and started to gingerly walk forward.

He tested each footstep out with the very tips of his toes before he set his foot down. His hands were outstretched on either side of him, occasionally sweeping in front of him to be sure that there were no lassos about to hook about his neck. For each step he took it was new relief and new terror. He didn't know what to expect.

The rustling grew louder and louder. What was it?

Suddenly the lights snapped on. He howled as the light pierced his sensitive eyes and he fell to his knees, covering his eyes. The rustling suddenly exploded and he knew what it was. Wings. Insect wings. He forced his eyes open to see hundreds of locusts filling the room. Huge locusts with buzzing wings and he felt himself start to shut down, his mind reeling and panicking. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't- His eyes registered a door at the other end of the room, not ten feet from him, near the center of the room. But the room was filling quickly. Locusts were getting closer and the noise was getting louder.

Orry felt himself be sick, he felt his mind shut even further down. He couldn't handle this, he couldn't-

'Are they really so bad, Orry?' Kat... 'They're not gonna hurt you. Yeah, they're gross, but they can't hurt you.'

Orry blinked hard and closed his eyes. Kat was right. They couldn't hurt him. Yeah, they were big. Yeah, they were flying. But she needed him and he needed to go to her. If he gave in now...the Phantom would win. Orry wasn't about to let that happen. He steeled himself as he felt the feet of the locusts landing on his arms and hair and clothes...and leaped up, charging for the door. He slammed into the door at full speed and it smashed open. He slammed it shut again and began the hop-skip dance of "GET THESE THINGS OFF ME!". Shaking the last of the locusts from his backpack, he smashed them flat with the heel of his boot. That was satisfying.

He shouldered his backpack again and looked down the hallway. It was lit with torches, the flames blackening the walls. He narrowed his eyes and set off in the direction that went down.

"Is that the best you can do?" He asked the empty air.

Erik clutched his hands over his face, looking away from the eyes of his Angel. What had he done? She had seen. He had let her see. Why? What was she thinking? Katrina, don't leave, don't look away, don't leave me, don't look at me, don't look away, please...! He glanced through his fingers to see her still standing there where he had let go of her in a panic. She was looking at him with a mixture of disappointment and curiosity.

"Erik..." She said gently, stepping towards him.

"No!" He barked, stumbling backwards. "Stay away!"

She crossed the space between them quickly and grabbed his arm. "Erik, it's okay!"

"Don't look at me! Don't look at this monster! Don't look at me!" He cried, twisting his deformed face away from her. "I don't want you to see!"

She gently touched his arm, his shoulder, his neck, his hair. "Erik, please. It's okay. You can look at me, I'm not going anywhere." He gave a broken sob and her heart broke. She slowly reached out and turned his face towards hers. He couldn't meet her eyes as she turned his face. His fingers tightened on his visage, trembling. "Uh-uh, Erik." She took his skeleton fingers in her own. "Let me see." And slowly, slowly, so slowly that it hurt, she pulled his fingers away from his face.

Suddenly she was holding his hands and she was looking at him. Just looking. He quailed, he quaked. "Katrina..."

"It's okay, Erik." She looked him dead on, never turning her eyes. "You're okay."

He blinked. "But...you can see-"

"Mhmm. I can see you." She said factually. "And I'm not afraid." She let go of one of his hands to touch his death's face, running her fingers lightly over his dead skin, her fingers tenderly touched his hollow nose, her eyes never leaving his sunken ones. "You're okay, Erik. It's okay."

And it was. ...Strange. But it was. "Angel..." He sang quietly, feeling the sting of the salty tears at the corner of his eyes. "Why are you here?"

"Because I'm here." She said simply, nodding to him. "I'm here and you need me."

The simplicity of the statement broke him down. He gathered her into his arms, held her tight. The acceptance was almost too much to bear. The heart of her was too big for him...she was too much. How could he hope to have her stay with him? To be there with him for all eternity? She was too much light, too much joy. How could he repay her, love her properly? He looked down into her eyes and saw everything that he had ever wanted from his past Angel to give to him. "Katrina...who are you?"

Orry had finally reached the end of the passageway. It was a door. He tried the handle and it was unlocked. He swung it open and looked into the small room. It was much smaller than the other one had been. It was dimly lit and he could see a strange ledge high above the ground, there seemed to be an opening up there. Leading off down another passageway.

He stepped into the room, cautious as always. The door slammed behind him and he heard a gurgling. The floor suddenly seemed to explode with water. The very walls leaked it. The room started filling up fast. It was already up to his knees. He splash-ran over to the floor beneath the ledge and jumped with all his considerable strength and height, yet he couldn't reach the ledge. Then he saw the grate lowering. The water was up to his thighs. The grate lowered slowly.

"He's trying to drown me." Orry realized angrily. The water was rising faster and faster and the grate was lowering still. If he could just manage...no, he wouldn't be able to squeeze through the space under the grate and get onto the ledge. Wait, the grate was lowering slower than the room was filling with water. Maybe...yes!

The water filled up past his waist and climbed up past his stomach, towards his chest. He calculated. At the rate that the water was rising and the rate that the grate was lowering, he should be able to squeeze through. This was heavy though. Why was it so heavy? He struggled to keep his head above water as the liquid surged. He was being dragged down...he was going to miss his opening! No! He fought, but his backpack was too heavy for him to just take off now. Everything in it was water-logged and it was dragging him underneath the water. He pulled his pocket-knife out and slashed through the straps.

The pack floated off and Orry kicked and pulled himself through the water. It was close, could he still-? YES! He slipped underneath the grate unto the ledge. He breathed a sigh of relief as he sat on that ledge and let the water build up a little more, watching the grate slowly winch down. If he was still under that...he shuddered, before standing and pocketing his knife.

"I'm still coming." He said quietly as he walked through the opening into the corridor. "Bring it on."

Katrina was confused. "Huh?"

"Who are you?" Erik asked again, slowly sweeping her up into his arms. "You are so different, Katrina..."

"Different?" She wondered. "Different how?"

"Your mind, your heart, your soul, your voice. It is all so different..."

She fell silent. Why was she so different from Christine, is what he meant. Why wasn't she some silly prattling girl who didn't know a hawk from a handsaw. "For one thing, I'm me. I spent a long time getting to know me, getting to know all about me. Why shouldn't I love who I am?" She slipped down out of his arms. He ached to hold her warmth again. He reached out but she held up a hand and stayed him. "The second thing, I hate being the same. I hate blending in. I want to stand out. I want to be different." She started to walk. He followed her as she wandered the steps and haunts of his lair. "If you're different...people remember your name. People remember who you are."

He nodded. "I underst-"

"No, you don't understand." She snapped. He paused. She snapped at him. At him! "No-one does! Katrina this, Katrina that, Katrina follow the rules, Katrina stop being weird, Katrina learn to get along with people, Katrina be normal. NO!"

Erik was stunned. He had never heard Katrina speak like this. ...about herself.

"No-one ever gets it!" she shouted, starting to lose her cool. "I'm different, so what? Why can't I be loved for who I am instead of what people want me to be?"

"Katrina-"

"SHUT IT!" He fell silent, eyes starting to glow. "You-YOU want me to be like CHRISTINE!" The name was screamed into the air. His form trembled. "Pretty, perfect, lovely, talented, hopeless, worthless, pitiless CHRISTINE DAAE!" She whirled about to face him and he thought that purple hair had never been more frightening. "Well, Erik, I've got news for you. I'm. NOT. CHRISTINE."

"I know that-"

"Yet you want me to take her place! To be her! I'm me!" She yelled, trying to fight back tears. "I thought we had something special, Erik. But no. You just want me to take her place as your Angel." She gestured to the lair. "This is where you brought her. This is where you haunt. This is where the memory stays." She reached up and brought a red velvet curtain crashing down, revealing the alcove that had been hidden. The mocking mannequin of Christine...still in the wedding dress...everything from her. That rose he had brought her. That ribbon from her hair. The statues and paintings and compositions...they flooded out at the curtains feet. At Katrina's feet. "I'm no Angel."

"No...you're a devil." He snarled, his fury bubbling over at the images, memories, haunting notes and haunting smiles mocking him. "You're a devil!" He stormed up to her, his hand raised. "How dare you disrespect my property and my privacy!"

"Don't you know better than to take something that's not yours?" She shouted back, not cowering back from his fury.

"YOU ARE MINE!"

"I AM NO-ONE'S!" She screamed, her own hand slapping him soundly across the face. "I don't belong to you!"

He grabbed her hands and forced them down against her sides, his haunted eyes staring directly into her own. "Vous êtes un démon, salope! Je vous ai fait,enfant ingrat!"

"Je vous laisse, Erik! Je suis moi-même et c'est tout ce que je serai toujours!" She shouted back, her beautiful lips pulled back in an angry scowl.

There was a moment, angry and misunderstood...then their lips crashed together, his arms wrapping about her too tight, her hands digging too painfully into his back. He slammed her against a wall, ignoring the cry that was forced from her lips and he pressed himself against this infuriating, confusing, magnificent demon that he...God, her smell-! His kiss was hard and demanding, but she gave no inch, kissing him just as hard and dragging her nails down his back. His hands were about to grab onto her tightly when alarm bells started going off.

*Translation*

"Vous êtes un démon, salope! Je vous ai fait,enfant ingrat!" = "You are a demon, b*tch! I made you, ungrateful child!"

"Je vous laisse, Erik! Je suis moi-même et c'est tout ce que je serai toujours!" = "I let you, Erik! I am myself and that's all I ever will be!"