Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Phantom of the Opera. Only original stuff is mine.

AN: Well, here is the final chapter. Thanks to everyone who read this and a huge thank-you to those who reviewed; it made me feel better knowing that at least some people enjoyed it. My newest story should be up sometime this week/next week, depending. Thanks again, and please review!

Epilogue:

In the weeks that followed Alisa's second abduction, Erik kept his fiancée as far away from the Opera House as possible until their wedding day. In fact, he shocked his employees by taking a "leave of absence" from work, which was a first in the twenty-odd years he had been the building's owner. Of course, Erik wasn't stupid enough to explain why he was taking a vacation from his beloved Opera House: he merely stated that he wanted to spend time with Alisa and to plan their wedding.

The wedding of Erik Garnier to Alisa Chapman was a grand affair, the ceremony being held at a lovely church and the reception/ball held in the ballroom of Erik's mansion. In each invitation, the guests had been asked to wear formal clothes to the ceremony, but were also asked to bring a costume for the masquerade that being held after the dinner. Since Alisa didn't have very many people that she wanted to invite to the wedding, most of those attending were friends and/or business associates of the groom. However, Alisa did invite her childhood best friend, Anne, who was her Maid of Honor.

On their wedding day, Erik wore a black tux and his half-white mask while Alisa drifted down the aisle in her glorious wedding gown. The church was full of white roses and lilies, the air perfumed with their scent as Alisa walked along the red carpeting, a bouquet of white and red roses tied with a black ribbon in her hands. For Erik, the ceremony was particularly unique, for as he exchanged a kiss with his beloved bride, he could feel the spell binding him to eternal life fading from his very being.

In choosing costumes for the masquerade ball, Erik, of course, decided to go as the Phantom of the Opera, though no one but the bride knew that he, in fact, had been the real thing. Alisa chose to go as a sea nymph, dressed in a lovely costume made of blue-green silk and gauze. There was a great deal of dancing, laughter, and joy that night, and before it was over, Alisa had to escort her slightly tipsy Maid of Honor to her room to keep the poor thing from embarrassing herself in front of the male wedding guests. Fortunately, Alisa was able to do so without any incidences, shutting and locking her friend's door behind her…for safety purposes, of course.

Right up through their honeymoon in Spain and Venice, a dark cloud had hung over both Erik and Alisa - a fear that a certain figure would appear to stop them from being married. To be safe, Erik had been glued to Alisa's side, never leaving her until the night before the wedding; he had then set extra security to surround the church and his estate. In the end, everyone merely thought all of this was to keep the press away from Alisa and the ceremony, so they weren't suspicious of it at all.

After the wedding, as the weeks drifting into months, Alisa began to feel safer and more confident that she and her husband were going to be left alone. Erik had returned to work at the Opera House and ordered his servants to move into his mansion instead of living away from it. His excuse was that since Alisa now lived there and was mistress of the place, she would need their help keep the estate in order. In reality, Erik was imagining little Garnier's running around the place and filling the air with their laughter and games, the staff keeping an eye on them. Alisa had nervously laughed at the idea, but not long after the honeymoon, she realized that Erik had been right to act as he had.

Six months to the day, right on the six-month anniversary of their wedding, Alisa announced that she was pregnant. Erik, after spending so much time alone in his life, was nearly bursting with pride at becoming a father. He took constant pictures of his wife during her pregnancy, printing them out and showing them to everyone he came in contact with, announcing that he was to be a father.

Of course, everyone working and/or living in the Opera House was thrilled with the fact that their boss was going to be a father. They had seen the way Monsieur Garnier had stared at young couples in love, or at families with tiny children who visited the Opera House to learn about it. Some of the Opera House mothers had even let him play with their little ones, and they were now thrilled that he was about to have children of his own.

It wasn't until a small box appeared on Erik's desk that he realized that, in his excitement about his marriage and upcoming child, he had nearly forgotten something important. There was no indication of who it was from, and upon opening it, he saw that it was a little white wooden rattle with yellow roses engraved onto it. Inside the box, Erik found a small piece of paper with two words written on it.

Forgive me.

Realizing who it was from, Erik made a decision.

It's ironic, really, how life can turn out, one twisted man finally finding happiness, but only at the expense of another man's hope for love and joy. Once he had been the one to lose the woman he loved; this time, over a century later, it was his turn to rob a man of the woman he thought would end his torment.

Sighing, Erik left the envelope, the light, and the red leather case in the passageway and left, praying that he had done the right thing.

Another day had come, and still the ache had not diminished. He knew that she had wedded, and from the rumors drifting around upstairs, she was due to have a child in less than six months. His hope of finding someone to understand him and see past his face was gone, vanished along with his love. How Garnier had managed to find the underground caves so quickly was beyond him, but it had happened. Alisa was gone, safely tucked away in a country estate and far out of his reach. He knew that there would never be another like her in his life.

In his heart, he knew he had been wrong to act as he did. Love could not be forced, but it had been so long since someone had held him and smiled at him without fear. Only his parents had loved him, and he had thought that perhaps, one day, Alisa might love him as they had. Now that hope was gone, and he was alone. Sighing, his shoulders slumped as he headed upstairs, hoping to see what performance was going to be practiced today.

A light in the middle of the path made him stop in his tracks. Was someone else down here? Had Garnier come to finish off his rival, even though it was no longer necessary? The light wasn't moving, though, and it was low, as though it were lying on the ground. Creeping forward, he saw a flashlight lying on top of an envelope, the two objects in turn lying on top of a red leather case. Curiosity won over caution and he approached, picking up the envelope and tearing it open.

Monsieur,

It is against my better judgment to do this, but I feel that, from one lonely soul to another, this gesture will help ease your suffering. Whether you believe in magic or not, the document contained within the red case is just that: a document containing the copy of a magic spell. I myself performed this exact spell many years ago, nearly a lifetime ago, it seems, and it has proven true; the woman who smiles at me with love in her eyes every moment of the day is proof of that. My Alisa, my wife and the mother of my child, is what the spell promised me when I first cast it: the other half of my heart and soul. I now grant this to you in the hopes that you find happiness, love, and warmth to last the rest of your life.

Yours truly,

Erik Garnier

Staring at the letter, he wondered if this was some kind of trick. A magic spell? Did Garnier think he was a fool to fall for some childish fantasy? For all he knew, there could be some sort of explosive hidden inside the case and this was all a plot of Garnier's to finish him off! Taking another look at the case, he realized that it was far too small and thin to hold anything dangerous. Would it hurt to look inside and see what was there?

Shrugging, he bent down and picked up the flashlight, putting the letter aside before undoing the clasps on the side of the case with his free hand. Ever-so-slowly, he opened it, shining the flashlight inside to see if anything odd was in there. All that lay inside was a flat piece of paper, the handwriting simple and elegantly written out. Reaching inside, he picked up the paper and began to read it.

'It's a bunch of rhyming nonsense,' he thought, tempted to crumple the paper and throw it away.

However, something stopped him from doing so. Would it really hurt to act out a 'magic spell,' just to have a little fun doing it? After all, he'd never really 'played pretend' as a child, so why not indulge in this sort of thing just once?

Picking up the papers, case, and flashlight, he headed down to his home by the lake.

The young woman sighed and tapped her cane about, trying to figure out where in the world she was. "I can't seriously be lost! I counted the steps, I should be back at the manager's office!" she retorted. "This is silly. Monsieur Garnier will be sure to fire me because of this, and I just got hired, too!"

Someone cleared their throat near her left elbow. "Are you lost, mademoiselle?" The voice was male, and a little cold, but still kindly, in a strange sort of way.

Vanessa turned and gave a cheerful smile. "I'm afraid so," she said, feeling a blush climb up into her cheeks. "Do you know where the manager's office is?"

"I'm afraid you've passed it," the stranger replied. "And Monsieur Garnier has already left; his wife has gone into labor and is at the hospital, so he rushed to join her there."

"Oh, drat!" she said, frowning. "I was going to ask where he was housing me. I've already brought all of my clothes, and my rent is up on my apartment, so now I've no place to go!"

An awkward silence filled her ears, and she heard the man shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another. "I have a certain access to Monsieur Garnier's documents," the man replied. "Would you like me to find out where your rooms are and escort you to them?"

"Oh, that would be wonderful," she replied with a smile.

Patiently, Vanessa listened as the man walked off and opened a door, presumably the one that lead to the manager's office. A moment later, the door shut and footsteps approached.

"You have been housed near the ballerinas," he said. "I hope you enjoy loud noises and giggling."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "No, not really," she muttered. "I prefer peace and quiet."

The stranger was silent for a moment. "Would you…like to stay with me?"

Suspicious as to this man's generousity, Vanessa's eyes narrowed. "Well, first of all, who are you?" she asked. "And secondly, where do you live?"

He chuckled. "My name is Damon," he said. "And I live in a very…unique place at the Opera House."

"Oh, really?" she asked, her interest peaked. "Where, exactly?"

"Below it, actually…a few levels down, so it is very quiet."

In spite of herself, Vanessa found herself drawn to this man. She may not be able to see, but when something inside her said to trust someone, she usually listened. Right now, her heart was practically screaming for her to go with this man, not because she wanted to, but because he needed her to. Cocking her head, she lifted her eyes to look up, right where she guessed his face should be.

Feeling her gaze on him, Damon shifted from one foot to another. "I hope that my appearance does not…trouble you at all."

"Looks hardly matter to a blind girl," she retorted sarcastically. "So if you are concerned about me seeing your ugly mole or horrid teeth, then don't bother."

A soft chuckle came from his direction. "Then will you join me?" he asked. "I hope you do not mind cool places."

"Better too cold than too warm," Vanessa replied as she felt his arm around her. "It's easier to warm up than it is to cool down." Realizing how dirty that must sound, she blushed. "Sorry, I hope that wasn't too forward or inappropriate."

"On the contrary, I find it rather amusing." His arm tightened around her, though it felt more protective than hurtful. "Now, how does a nice evening tea by a fire sound?"

Taking a quick break from paperwork, Erik stared at the picture on his computer. The beaming faces of his lovely wife and five-month-old son looked back at him. Suddenly, his e-mail alert flashed. Another picture came into view, this one of a man in a full mask and his petite blonde companion filling the screen; they appeared to be in London. On the bottom of the photo was a message.

Thank you for helping me with my solitude. Now I believe in magic. -Yours, Damon and Vanessa

Smiling, Erik sat back and sighed contentedly.

AN: Happy ending! I'm a sucker for those. Thanks for reading, everyone and keep an eye open for my newest fic, coming out soon! Review, please!