A/N: This is my first attempt at a story with chapters, and I'm very excited although I ask that you please read and review since I need everyone's opinions. It is AU, and I should warn that this story is of a lighter nature than the actual storyline since I've heard somewhere that a little love can go a long way in changing a person's life. It is EC but quite Raoul friendly.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera. It belongs to Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber. The PHANTOM is owned by Susan Kay. (Sniffles)

The Way Things Might Have Been

Prologue

It was hot, very hot on that midsummer evening, and the sweat mixed with the tears on the woman's face from the combined heat and pain. It did not help the woman in labor with the birthing process that was already complicated. She lay in the midst of several dirtied and twisted linens. The monastery where the event was taking place was filled with silence except for this room. Although the mother was too exhausted to make any sounds herself, the room was filled with activity and expectancy. Some sisters of the order rushed to and fro in order to gather the necessities: hot water, rags, etc. while others stood by quietly watching and praying. The midwife, meanwhile, guided and encouraged the woman through the conclusion of her pregnancy. It was a breech birth, a danger to both the life of the mother and child, but perhaps, it was meant to be…

With a final scream, it was over, and the woman had given birth to her first child. However, her feeling of relief was cruelly cut short by the horrified gasp, and though she could not see, widening eyes of the midwife, now visibly shaking with fear. The room had fallen into a dreadful silence. All the tumult had ceased, but the woman now noticed that those who had not been shocked to silence now muttered prayers under their breath with feverish intensity. For a moment, the mother feared that her child had been stillborn. To her relief though, the beautiful cry of a healthy child sliced through the palpable silence of the room. "Please," she said in a barely audible voice, "please let me hold my child… please."

The midwife's gaze softened as she turned to the woman lying on the bed next to her. "It is a boy, my dear. You have a son, but perhaps you should wait and rest first. You have had a hard time." The midwife let out a sigh seeing the mother's stubborn and resolute face. Returning her gaze to the babe in her arms, she pitied the creature… both of them. It was… wrong. Half of the child's face was distorted beyond recognition, seemingly covered with the scars of ten lifetimes. While the left side was perfect and could have been carved by the angels, the right side seemed to have been burnt by the fires in the deepest pits of… The midwife's thoughts were interrupted by the desperate mother's raspy pleading. "Please…" The midwife sighed, giving in, and handed the babe over.

At her first glimpse of the child, her original reaction, of course, was a slight shock. However, her gaze soon became tender and loving as she lightly stroked the tuft of jet black hair and stared at the beautiful, deep blue-green eyes that were slightly tinged with gold. This was her son… her son, and she would not care what he looked like. She vowed then and there, in her heart and out loud, "I will protect and care for him. My love shall never be denied to my son." She then raised her eyes from her son to send a defiant glare at all the other women in the room as if challenging them to contradict her. The sisters continued to pray while the midwife was silent with amazement.

Looking down at her child again, she promised to save him from the life of an outcast, a life she knew well.

Madeleine Liszet had been born in a medium-sized town in the northwestern region of France. Her family was middle-class, not extremely wealthy but not poor either. Her father was a fairly successful merchant while her mother took care of Madeleine and her older sister and brother. She lived a comfortable life until the disasters struck. When she was nine, renewed chaos hit France as a revolution once again swept through the country toppling the unstable government. The atmosphere of violence and fervor surrounded the inhabitants of France with excitement as well as fear. In the tuberculosis epidemic that had led up to that point of history, both her father and sister, Marie, had perished. Her brother, Charles, had left for America only the year before, a land of new opportunities. He had eventually stopped writing and left his family wondering what had happened to him. This left Madeleine and her mother to fend for themselves. For a short while, they managed to survive on the remaining funds that her father had left, but soon… both had to work to keep themselves alive. That was how they lived for several years until a final disaster struck leaving Madeleine the only survivor of her family. Her mother had eventually died from a slow, painful, degenerating disease. It was after the funeral that Madeleine met Jacob Furerre. He introduced himself as a family friend. His father had worked with hers, and he had inherited the family's many successful wineries. Jacob made his attraction to Madeleine quite apparent; her good looks were quite known throughout the area although her impoverished conditions had always served as a deterrent to many of the other men. Jacob had no worry about money and married her within several months. At first, their marriage was happy… comfortable. However, Jacob's infatuation soon wore off. He would disappear on "business trips" for weeks at a time. When Madeleine had told him of her pregnancy, however, he was infuriated. He had thrown her out with a few meager possessions and some money. She worked her way east, away from her past although still remaining in the north with its familiar countryside. When she reached that point in her pregnancy however, she had sought shelter at this monastery, and that was how she was there now, under the charity of God…

Madeleine suddenly became aware of the heaviness in her eyelids as she came out of her reverie. She once again looked at the babe nestled to her bosom. A name… she needed a name for her son. "Erik… His name shall be Erik Liszet." She gave him her maiden name for he, in all technicalities, had no father. Finally she let the consciousness that she had gripped so tightly flee. Humming a soft tune, she fell asleep with the weight of her new son in her arms.

Madeleine slowly emerged from the darkness as she woke up. Sitting up from her cot in the monastery infirmary in a fresh nightgown that someone had changed her into during the night, the first thing that registered in her mind was that was sometime past midday judging from the amount of sunlight pouring into the room through the large window on the opposite side of the room. Suddenly, she remembered, "My son… where's my son?" Panic now flooded her as she got off the cot, ignoring the searing pain stimulated by her movement. Her entire body was one big ache. The room was empty; her babe was not there. That one thought reverberated in her mind. She rushed towards the door, but as she reached for the handle, a pleasantly plump woman entered.

It was one of the matrons, the one who had first met Madeleine at the door of the monastery. She immediately began scolding Madeleine and dragged her back to the cot. "Darling, a woman of your condition shouldn't even think of rising from bed! I'm Sister Agnes by the way, and yes," she cut in as Madeleine opened up her mouth to speak, "your boy is perfectly fine. The priest came in early this morning to baptize him." She placed the bundle that she had been holding into Madeleine's arms. "I've already taken care of anything that needs to be taken care of."

"Thank you, Sister."

"There's nothing to thank me for unless you expect a mere babe to feed and clothe himself." The nun chuckled merrily. "There is nothing to fear here. I will not care that he looks different. We are all children of God, created in his image, and those here who do not remember that are fools. I have a feeling that your child will do great things." She patted Madeleine gently on the shoulder. "Stay strong my dear… Now, I should think that you are hungry. I'll go grab you some grub from the kitchen."

"Thank you."

"Now, now… there's nothing to thank for although you may want to thank God that our usually cook, Sister Elsa, isn't here. Her cooking is quite awful," and Sister Agnes bustled out.

Madeleine sighed, releasing the tension of the past several months. She was hungry. Settling back with the promise of nourishment, she sang to Erik a soft lullaby from home.

five years later…

In the small sitting room of a homely cottage, a five-year-old Erik was building something using the pile of sticks he had gathered that afternoon and the clay that his mother had bought him. His mother was in the kitchen washing the dishes from their lunch that day. She hummed a soft tune as she worked. After she had left the monastery, she had worked and saved up enough money to buy this small but comfortable cottage on the outskirts of the small, northeastern town of Rienne.

When Madeleine finally finished, she went and stood at the doorway to watch her son at work. She had known for some time now that her son was special, beyond that of a normal genius or child prodigy. She had protected and loved him to the best of her ability, but he still suffered from the isolation that was a necessity. Already its effects could be seen…

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted. "Mama, mama! Look at my castle."

She smiled as she went in for a closer look. She let out a gasp of surprise and delight. "Why, it is wonderful Erik!" And indeed… it was. He had built a basic foundation of sticks and then used the clay to build the elegant, lifelike structure. Every detail was intricately carved allowing her to see the stonework, windows, turrets, and inside as well. It was the work of a master.

"Do you think that Gaspar and his friends would play with me if I showed it to them, Mama?"

"No, my child, I… I do not think that it's a very good idea."

"Oh…"

Madeleine frowned as she saw his tiny little face fall. They were all ignorant people. All because of his deformity, Erik was shunned by the children and their parents. She had tried to shield him from the world, but the damage has been done. Erik, even at this age had only two loves: his mother and the arts, especially music. He knew that he looked different from the others. Madeleine still remained eternally grateful to the previous owner of the cottage for leaving the library with all its books. Erik had already practically devoured every single one of them.

When Erik noticed his mother's frown and brooding face, he immediately wanted to cheer her up. He didn't like it when she was unhappy. Ignoring his own disappointment, he grabbed her hand and dragged her to the rocking chair in the warm sunshine. "Let's sing mama." They started a song about a lark and nightingale that his mother had taught him as a child.

Madeleine soon fell silent to listen to her son's voice. It swept her into a dream-world where her only awareness lay in the beautiful timbre of the voice and pure, sweet quality of the sound. Yes, his greatest gift was music. He already played both the harpsichord and violin, both also left by the previous owner, with the skill of a virtuoso and has composed some music of his own. His music could have made Mozart and Beethoven weep, while the angels in heaven would cry at the sound of his voice. She couldn't stop herself from asking silently, "Why? Why? Why God did you give my son a demon's face but an angel's voice? What do you have planned for him?"

"Mama?" Erik had finished the song and was now gazing up at her.

"That was beautiful little one…"

five years later…

"Mama," a ten-year-old Erik protested as she continually fixed his hair and collar.

"Erik, remember what I have told you. Be careful, watch yourself, eat correctly, and write to me when you can."

"Yes, Mama."

"Also remember to…"

"Mama! I am just going to be an apprentice to the artist in the next town. I'm not going to war or anything like that."

"I just worry! You're so young still and who knows how long it'll be 'til I see you again."

"Don't worry Mama. I can take care of myself very well. I am your son aren't I." Erik started heading towards the door with one final kiss.

"Wait, Erik, I have something for you." Madeleine held out a white half mask made of top quality leather.

Erik accepted it with shaking hands. "Mother, this must have cost a fortune! How did you…?"

"Hmpff… Don't worry about that. Francis had owed me a favor. Now try it on."

Erik unraveled the cloth he had been using until then and placed the mask on… It was a perfect fit, covering his entire deformity. "Thank you, mama," he said in a trembling voice.

"Now go before I make you stay."

As he passed the gate, he called back over his shoulder, "Don't worry mama! I'll make you proud of me."

Madeleine smiled and waved as she leaned against the doorway. "You already have, my son…"

Two tears silently made their ways down her face.

Erik could hardly believe it. It has already been four and a half years since he had left his mother's house… and her protection. In that span of time he had already changed a great deal. He had spent that time apprenticed to various artisans, artists, and musicians, mastering a large variety of skills and arts. He had also traveled a great deal, wandering across Europe and further. An iciness had also captured his heart though, and a coldness had leaked into his eyes. It was during this time that he came upon the realization that ordinary would never accept him. Even those masters who had at times seen his face accidentally were horrified by it. However, he never stayed with one for very long. He quickly gained experience and learned all they had to teach. He had been taught by professors, architects, composers, artists, craftsmen to businessmen, magicians, and even learned from a fencing master.

The latter became very useful indeed for self defense and was easy for him to master due to a natural grace that he had. He had even learned from tailors, chefs, and dancing masters. His intelligence and deftness had always surprised them. But now… now he was returning home.

He may have left as boy, but he was returning as a young man. However, even if this was true, he was filled with apprehension. There was still a small part inside of him that was that young boy eager to please his mother. Even throughout his travels, he had made sure to write to his mother at least once a week. Now as he saw the approach of the cottage that had been his childhood home, fear flooded him that he had failed to fulfill that promise he made as he left all those years ago. As he dismounted from his horse and approached the gate, he suddenly stopped as he saw the slightly aged figure of his mother in the doorway.

Madeleine couldn't believe what she was seeing. He had said in his last letter that he had a surprise to send her, but this was beyond what she had expected. To see her son again… that was a dream she had cherished since the day after he left. She stared at him. Could this be her son? This… man with swept back black hair, piercing eyes, and an aura of control was her son? He was tall now: a bit over six feet probably and a strong build. The shock suddenly wore off and she almost ran towards him.

Erik's eyes had immediately softened upon seeing her. He could have laughed at the look of shock on her face if he hadn't been so nervous. When she quickly headed towards him though, he forgot about his hesitation and met her in the middle of yard, literally picking her up and twirling her around. She giggled at this when he let her down. "I've missed you too mother," he said dryly. He suddenly noticed that she looked thin and a bit careworn and overly pale. It worried him.

Madeleine studied him with a critical eye until she suddenly felt it, the pain, and she fell into a coughing fit. Not now… please, not now.

Concern instantly flooded Erik when he saw the look of pain on her face, and he caught her as she fell coughing. Hurriedly, he carried her into the house out of the wind. Now, he noticed how light she was. He placed her on the divan and went to make some tea for her. When he saw her try to get up and speak, he stopped her and gently pushed her down. "Not now, mother. Rest first." He sang to her and watched as she fell asleep. He carried her into her bedroom. Then, he left and rushed to the physician in Rienne and asked him to see his mother. When they returned, he waited impatiently in the sitting room while the doctor looked at her.

The physician was pale and tired-looking as he went into the sitting room.

"Do you want any tea?"

"Yes, please…"

"Here. How is my mother?"

The physician wasted no time cutting to the chase. "I assume that she hasn't told you of her illness in the past several months?"

Erik frowned. "No she hasn't. How long will it be before she gets better?"

The doctor sighed, and immediately a pang of fear lanced through Erik. "Erik… it's your name correct? The ailment is terminating, and there is no cure for it as of yet."

"NO! No, this can't be!" Erik was instantly on his feet and pacing the room distractedly. The physician was very afraid although to his credit, he did not show it. Finally, Erik sighed. A defeated look entered his face. "Does she know of this?"

"Yes."

"Then thank you monsieur, for all your assistance." Erik handed him some money, clearly a sign of dismissal, but the physician shook his head and returned the money.

"No, monsieur, I have done nothing that deserves payment except become a messenger. Besides, Madame Liszet was a good woman. She helped my wife once when she was harassed by thugs. Take good care of her, Erik. She spoke very highly of you."

Erik was slightly shocked. Repeating another "thank you monsieur," he showed the doctor to the door. Then he turned to take care of his mother.

He spent the next few months trying to make her as comfortable and happy as possible. He pampered her and entertained her with everything he had learned. The only thing that had bothered her was his reluctance to take off the mask, even when it was only her present. She immediately saw that those several years in the world had made its mark on him. She could only hope that he would eventually learn to trust. For his fifteenth birthday, they had a small celebration. They spent the day outside with an abundant picnic. Although everything seemed fine, Erik could see her growing steadily weaker. It was one month after his birthday when she died. Erik would remember it for the rest of his life. However, she had looked strangely at peace as she lay on her deathbed. He would never forget her words: "Erik, my son, remember, you have made me very proud indeed. I love you, never forget that, and I'll always watch over you from the world of light above."

one month later…

Erik readied all his saddlebags as he placed it on Cesar's, his horse's, back. He turned and gave one last look at his childhood home. He had settled all the business, selling everything. All he had kept from the house was his mother's diary, her wedding ring, the violin, and a single book from the library: The Rose and the Nightingale.

After he made a final visit to her grave in the cathedral's cemetery, he turned in the direction of his uncertain future. He was heading towards Paris, the capital of France, but more specifically, he was heading towards the Paris Opera House, that even here won fame as a bustling world separate from everything else, exactly what he wanted.

A/N: I had planned the entire story out (not written, just planned) before I had read Susan Kay's Phantom (which is one of the best books in the world jumps up and down excitedly), and you can probably tell from my um… comment that in between planning this story and writing it, I read it. In doing so, I found some parallels in my story and it that are coincidental such the breech birth. The only knowledge I had beforehand from some other fan fiction was that his mother was named Madeleine… Also, it will be mostly based on the 2004 movie because I still know it a bit better, because I read the books only after I saw it. (Although I love the books, I love them, I love them!) On a side-note, I also want to tell any one reading this that had reviewed my one-shot thank you and also that I'm going to try to correct the mistakes mentioned. It's just that I haven't figured out how to edit it yet. (Sorry ;) I also beg for patience if I don't update quickly because well… (sweatdrops as she eyes large pile of incomplete summer homework) A rose to everyone who can figure out where my title is from.

Here is where I'll end my tirade… Please Review.

The Hamster in my Head