I don't own Phantom…wish I did…but I don't…

Prolouge:

"Madame, I'm afraid that your husband has passed on." The doctor told Christine. She nodded, took her four year old son's hand and walked out the door.

"Mamma? Did Papa go to heaven?" he asked her once they were in the carriage.

"Yes darling. He is with my father now. My father whom you are named after." She told him and kissed his forehead. "Get some sleep dear. We'll be in Paris in a few hours."

Gustave lay his light brown haired head down on her lap and went to sleep. Meanwhile, Christine was thinking of things to say, ways to explain what had happened to…him.

3 Hours later…

"Madame le Countess, we have arrived." The coachman told her and helped her out of the carriage.

"When would you like your carriage here to pick you up Madame?"

"I will be walking to the hotel, thank you though."

The carriage driver nodded then flicked the reins and was off.

After a deep breath, Christine turned around to face the Opera Populaire. It obviously had been redone after the fire six years ago, but it still made her feel at home.

She knew that her Angel was still alive, even though the papers said otherwise. She did her best to keep a very low profile as she slipped through rehearsals going on and made it just past her best friend Meg Giry before the dancer could notice her.

Once in her old dressing room, she took in her surroundings. Since the incident, no one had wanted to use this room and were too afraid to enter it, so it was completely covered it dust and old white sheets.

On her old vanity, she noticed a dead red rose with an old weathered black ribbon around it. She gently picked it up and held it to her heart.

After gaining enough courage, she tore the sheet off of the massive mirror on the wall and almost fell off her feet when memories came rushing back to her.

With the old rose still in one hand and a candle in the other, she slid the mirror to one side and walked down the old hallway.

Once she reached the lake, she saw that the gondola wasn't in its usual place. She bravely called out, "Hello?"

She then heard soft music coming from the other side of the body of water.

The countess then became anxious and yelled, "Hello!"

The organ stopped and footsteps were heard, the masked man came around the corner to see who had invaded his personal space, a lasso in his right hand.

"Hello Erik." She smiled at him.

"Christine." He choked out her name.

"May I come over?"

"Why? You have your precious Viscount. What do you want me for? To laugh at, Christine? To mock me?"

"I would never laugh at you or mock you. You should know that. And just so you know, Raoul died."

"So you've come back to me after your husband dies? I will not be a second choice Christine."

"You're not. The second I married Raoul I knew I had made a mistake. I was miserable for the five years we were married. He was constantly drunk and hated everything he was surrounded by. He was coming home from the pub one night and the stupid arse walked in front of a fast moving carriage. The man was torn apart and driven over by six horses. When he was pronounced dead I felt a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders. I know it sounds terrible that I was happy he was gone, but it left Gustave and I to start a new life and-"

"Who is Gustave?"

"My son."

"You have a son?"

"Yes. He is only four years old and will have to grow up without a father and-" she looked at him hopefully.

"Christine I-"

"Let me finish. Gustave and I left home and came here. I understand that you don't want me here and wouldn't care if I jumped off a bridge. But I just wanted you to know that- I made the wrong choice. I was wrong and I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." With that last sentence, she began to cry. "I'm sorry to disturb you, I'll go. Goodbye Angel."

She wiped away her tears and began to walk back through the labyrinth.

"Christine wait!" he called after her.

She stopped in her tracks and turned around to see him rowing the boat over to her. He got out quickly and ran over to her and enveloped her in a hug.

"Don't even think for a second that I don't want you here. And if you were ever to jump off a bridge, I would jump in after you."

"Would you like to meet him?"

"Who?"

"Gustave."