Prologue:

The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn, we've passed the point of no return.

The police were ready and waiting. Raoul would signal them to take away my angel and my life would lose all meaning. I would never sing again, never breath again. My capability to love would be lost and I would die of despair.

He was behind me, embracing me, and it was so heavenly I could've cried. "Anywhere you go let me go to…" I turned around to face him as he sang to me. "Christine, that's all I ask of…!" I quickly pulled off his hairpiece and mask, and the audience, aghast, screamed and shrieked. Yet all I could do was look into his beautiful eyes, brimming with tears, and gently touch his cheek. I pulled him closer to me and kissed him, hard, knowing what I was about to do. My angel was warm and beautiful; I would miss him so much…

Raoul had told me before the play, that he would have one cop trained on my angel. When the act was over, the gun would go off, taking him away from me forever. I knew that I couldn't let that happen, and now I would do what I had to. I heard the order shouted at the gunman and without another thought, I stepped in front of my love. I heard Raul's shout to cease fire, but it was too late.

Everything became blurry, and my Angel screamed in horror, but I reached out to him as I collapsed to tell him everything would be alright. The pain was blinding though, my abdomen seemed to be on fire. Blood was pooling crimson on top of my corset. I felt his arms wrap around me in desperation, I heard his scattered speech, asking me to stay with him, to hold on until he could help me. And I tried to keep my eyes open. I focused in on his scarred face, twisted into pure agony, dripping with hot tears. "Stay angel, my Christine. Stay with me! Please don't leave me! I need you angel, I love you! Hold on alright? I'm going to help you. I'll make the pain go away." I could practically hear the torture and panic in his voice, and all I wanted was to soothe him.

In and out of consciousness I drifted in his arms. We fell through the trap door, through the fake fire, and I heard the crash of the chandelier. Opening my eyes I realized we were in the catacombs of the opera house, and the pain in my abdomen flared sickeningly as he ran with me in his arms. My angel sang loudly, reflecting his torment. "Down once more to the dungeons of my black despair, down we plunge to the prison of my mind! Down that path into darkness deep as HELL!"

I wish I could comfort him, but my breath felt restricted, not helped by the tightness of my corset. I could see that we were getting closer to the moat, and I focused on the water of the lake, not mon ange` labored breathing, or his tears that fell into my hair. He laid me down urgently but gently into the boat, placing his Don Juan Triumphant cape over me. I had the sensation of floating, and once again, I drifted into unconsciousness.

I barely woke up but I forced myself to open my eyes, to push through the darkness because I wanted to see him. I could feel his hands on my corset, tearing it off with all the urgency the situation required. He saw my eyes open, and began to speak to me in soothing tones. "Can you hear me Christine? You're going to be alright. I'm going to get this bleeding stopped. All you have to do is fight the darkness, please don't leave me angel, I need you so very badly. I know it hurts Christine, the bullet went all the way through though, so I don't have to cut into you to get it out." He was trying to reassure me, and I loved him so much for it. My heart ached at the thought of having to leave him, so I struggled to stay awake, to live for my angel. As he worked over me, he began to sing, "Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude. Share each day with me, each night, each morning."

I joined in weakly, "Anywhere you go let me go to."

"Christine, that's all I ask of you." Try as he may to hold back his tears, he began to sob uncontrollably, even as he lay bandages on my bare stomach, pressing on the large wound. I could feel my own tears come, mixed with my physical pain and sorrow at his agony. I had to ask him something, in case I did live, I had to know.

"Angel?" I asked hoarsely.

"Erik. My name is Erik sweetheart. Yes, what is it angel?"

I choked out the next few words through my tears, "If I make it –"

He cut me off. "No, Christine! Don't talk like that! You're going to live!" he had trouble forming words through his weeping state. I nodded my head and cupped his cheek, the scarred one, gently.

"When this is over my dear Erik, will you marry me?" I heard his breath catch in his throat, and keeping one hand on my wound, he brought the other one up to mine that rested on his face. He spoke tenderly.

"Yes my angel of music. And we can start over, and-and have a family, and we can make music together every single day of our lives. That would make me the happiest man in the world. Christine? I love you so much. I can't let you go; I can't let you leave me." He was trembling like a frightened child in the darkness. I wanted to be his guiding light. I nodded my head in reassurance, though I could feel the life draining from me every second. He worked over me urgently, wrapping the bandages tight and knotting them. I lay on the large swan bed, trying to stay awake.

He left me briefly, and then came back with a cup which he gently lifted to my mouth. He told me that laudanum, which was to help me sleep and some other herb to help take away the pain had been put into the mixture. I trusted him completely on these matters since he was very well read, practically a genius. Sleep dulled my senses, and he sang a lullaby to me, softly. His large, warm hand grasped my petite one, and finally, I dozed into darkness, unsure if I was to ever wake up again.