Disclaimers: Proper copyrights are applied as needed. Just know that I own nothing other than this piece of writing.

Author's Note: This fic is set in the 2004 movie-verse, seeing as it's the version that remains the clearest in my mind, but it will have aspects from Susan Kay's novel (most notably with the cameo of Nadir, "The Persian"). Also note that I would never change the controversial ending (should Christine have stayed with Erik?) of the book(s)/stage play/movie for anything in the world. But, seeing that the movie and its soundtrack make me cry when I see/listen to them, this fic is nothing more than some needed soul soothing.

All Forgiving

Chapter One

Our Farewell

-

"In my hand, a legacy of memories,

I can hear you say my name.

I can almost see your smile,

Feel the warmth of your embrace…

Never thought this day would come so soon

We had no chance to say goodbye…

How can the world just carry on?

I feel so lost when you're not by my side…

But there is nothing but silence now,

Around the warmth I loved…

Is this our farewell?

Sweet darling, you worry too much,

My child, see the sadness in your eyes.

You are not alone in life,

Although you might think that you are

So sorry your world is tumbling down,

I will watch through these nights.

Rest your head, and go to sleep

For my child, this is not our farewell…

This is not our farewell…

"Our Farewell" Within Temptation

-

"Go now! Go now and leave me!"

Christine felt her heart wraith in agony, like a wounded animal in pain as she helplessly watched Erik – the Opera Ghost, her Angel of Music – retreat, broken and defeated, into the recesses of his underground home. A cold numb befell her as her eyes remained locked on the spot where Erik had stood, as if she could not comprehend the events that occurred after their kiss.

Seeing him in this state struck her like a physical blow. He had always been so strong when she was with him, so confident…so utterly in control and commanding of every aspect of his life and the kingdom he built within the Opera Populaire.

Now he was lost, confused, spiraling out of control as everything he knew crumbled around him. That had been made painfully clear to her by the tears in his eyes when their kiss ended.

For him, the dream was over.

And all because of her.

Somewhere behind her, Raoul untangled himself from the ropes that bound him to the portcullis. She was unaware of his presence until his fingers closed around her slender arm. "Christine…" he began, unsure of what to say, gently pulling at her arm. "Let's go. There's nothing else here…"

That was a lie. There was so, so much here…

He was still here, in the dark, and all alone…

The ring in Christine's hand suddenly seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. Slowly, she turned to face Raoul but refused to look at him, hiding the tears in her eyes. "There's…something I must do, Raoul. Please, wait for me here."

Raoul paled, which starkly contrasted the sickly blue highlights that still tinged his lips and under his eyes. "Christine, we can't stay…the mob…"

"Raoul, please." She pleaded. "There is something I need to do." Without waiting to hear his further protests, Christine returned to the shore of Erik's lair and retraced the Phantom's steps to the direction he had disappeared to.

She found him in his room, sitting before the barrel organ music box. His posture was horribly slumped in the only way a completely defeated man knew how to hold himself. He was gazing at the music box in a sort of wonder as it played its mystical tune, looking strikingly like a little lost boy who had nothing else in the world. The sight almost broke Christine's heart.

Then Erik began to sing softly to the music…

"Masquerade…paper faces on parade, Masquerade! Hide your face so the world will never find you…"

Oh, the cruel irony of those words. Without his mask, his shield of security from the world, he looked so defenseless, so vulnerable…

Erik's words trailed off and his eyes traveled across the small chamber until they met her own. Christine's breath caught in her throat. She no longer winced at his deformity; no longer played in her mind how someone could go threw life like that… Sure horrible, ignorant thoughts! She hated herself for ever even thinking anything like that. The emotion in his eyes – the longing, the helplessness…the hope that maybe, maybe, she might have come back to him – nearly destroyed the courage she had built up in order to face him again.

The young singer could also see in his eyes a hundred please that asked her, begged her to stay with him. He had tried everything thus far to make her his. He had charmed her, wooed her, even resorted to threatening her with her fiancé's life, but she had evaded every attempt. Now he was ready to drop to his knees at her feet, but it was the last few threads of self control he maintained that kept him from doing so.

A hundred pleas, a thousands reasons, but Erik only chose one last argument, one final confession before she would inevitably leave his life forever.

"Christine…I love you…"

Christine's heart died on those three beautiful words, and now she was about to take what remained of Erik's heart out with her own. Fighting back her tears – heaven knew if she cried, she truly would never leave – she stepped out from the shadows, the engagement rings growing heavier in her hand with every passing step. Hesitantly, she reached out and took his hand. His skin was so warm and inviting under her cold fingers…

Before her lost her nerve completely, Christine placed the heavy diamond ring in his palm and closed his trembling fingers around it. She wanted to say something to his, something to soothe him and herself as well, but the words were stuck in her throat. It would have all been in vain, anyway. Anything she might have said or done would only hurt him further…

…if that were humanly possible.

She remained only a moment longer, clasping his hand in both her small ones, waiting for him to say something else. But the words and voice she longed to hear never came. There was only the soft breath of a dejected sigh, and two stray tears that fell from his eyes.

Cursing her own weakness, she turned and fled, fleeing from Erik and the night and back to Raoul and the day.

Back to a normal life, a normal man, that would eventually end up in a normal marriage… To a life where she would be admired and cherished like a fragile doll in a glass case, and to attend fancy parties that talked of nothing but money and politics by night. Nights that would be spent in the glamour of some business man's home or in the marriage bed, rather than singing enchanting duets, or listening to tales of far-off places… Nights were she would drift off to a warm, peaceful sleep with her head on Erik's knee and wake up the next morning in her own room beneath the opera house.

Back to the normal life where she could never again be allowed to drown in Erik's music, Erik's voice, and love every moment of it…

Then why am I going back?

…because he wants you to, child. The accursed voice of reason whispered in her mind as she joined Raoul in the boat on the shore. Because it is what is right. Besides, your father would have wanted it this way. Did you honesty think he would want you to spend the rest of your life underground with a madman, to never see the light of day again?

Christine sat at the prow of the small boat, grateful that her back was towards the Vicomte as they rowed away. She did not want him to see her tears that finally fell.

But why…? If he loved me, why would he send me away…?

Then, from across the cold water, came a voice, once powerful and majestic, now no more of a ghost of its former self. Much like its owner.

"You alone can make my song take flight… It's over now, the music of the night…"

A cry of anguish escaped Christine's throat. Forgetting everything else around her – forgetting Raoul, forgetting the approaching mob – she stood in the boat, looking back in the direction they had come.

"Erik!" she called out.

Then the world erupted in flames.

Christine was suddenly back on dry land, only now she was alone. Hellfire surrounded her on all sides, destroying everything that had once been something that belonged to the Phantom of the Opera. The music box, the replica of the Opera Populaire stage with all its carved figures, Erik's treasured organ…all destroyed forever by the horrible flames.

"Erik!" Christine called again, but no answer ever came. Had he escaped? Or did she wound him so deeply that he didn't care?

Christine looked down, and was surprised to see Erik's porcelain mask resting in her hand. Forgetting the fire, she brought it up and ran her fingers over the surface, which was still so cold…

…then cried out in alarm as blood seeped from the glassy surface. It ran, hot and sticky, over her pale fingers. Horrified, Christine dropped the mask. It shattered to a million splinters at her feet.

Agony overtook her as she sank to her knees. In a last attempt before the darkness took her, Christine screamed with every fiber of her being.

"ERIK!"

To Be Continued…