Pity Comes Too Late: Chapter Two

Phantom of the Opera: Pity Comes Too Late

Chapter Two: Time to Say Goodbye

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Christine faltered as she lost hold of The Phantom's hand. They had been walking in the dark for a while now, and she still couldn't see a thing. She had always been afraid of the dark, even as a child. But now that fear seemed more frightening and more real than ever before, as she stumbled forward.

"Angel!" She cried out reaching for him frantically. "Where are you?"

She felt a warm hand gently grip her shoulder, "I am here Christine."

The hand slowly traveled down the length of her arm, until it reached her hand. "The exit is not far now," He said beginning to walk again. Christine closed her eyes and let the Phantom lead her, as he had done not so long ago when she first laid eyes on him. The day her life had changed forever. . . the day she met her Angel of Music.

They continued to walk in silence for what seemed like an eternity to Christine before her he stopped in front of a wall. He pushed against the wall roughly and it fell backward to reveal a large black door.

The Phantom slowly opened the door, to the wintry cold air of Paris. He stepped outside into the open and then turned to help Christine out. After he made sure she was alright, he closed the catacomb entrance once more.

"Where are we?" She asked blinking hard, at all of the sudden light that invaded her vision.

"A few miles from the Opera house," he replied. "Come, there is a carriage waiting."

He resumed holding her hand and led the way through the outer streets. Christine stay huddled at his side, so close that they were almost touching. But if the Phantom felt it, he paid the contact no heed.

"You know," Christine said softly. "You never told me your real name."

The Phantom looked down at her for a long moment. "Erik."

"Erik," Christine repeated smiling up at him. "What a lovely name."

The Phantom looked at her again with an anguished glance. "There is nothing lovely about me Christine."

There was such a note of despair in his voice, that she almost felt like crying when he spoke. He truly despised himself and his deformed face.

She decided not to talk anymore for it seemed to upset him greatly. So the couple walked in silence, the snow falling all around them in delicate arcs.

They were about to turn a corner when Erik grabbed Christine and pulled her to him sharply, so that their bodies were pressed against each other. Christine had to muffle a squeal as he did so.

"Angel," She began to ask when he pressed one of his fingers to her lips.

"Please Christine, do you trust me?" He was so close to her, she could feel his hot breath on her face. She looked into his eyes and couldn't help but love what she saw there.

"Yes. . .  I trust you."

The Phantom nodded before he pulled her into a hug covering his face in the shoulder of her white wedding dress. She hugged him back, her small arms encircling his larger frame.

Moments later two gendarmes ran past them shouting about Le` Phantom burning down the Opera House. Erik didn't lift his head from her shoulder until he was sure they were gone. When he did Christine shivered from the cold air that immediately took his place.

"We have to move," he warned looking down the street the police had run down only minutes before. "They might come back."

Christine nodded as the Phantom placed his hand on the small of her back and began to guide her through the small streets once more.

Christine was conflicted by all the emotions she was feeling as they passed a small bakery and head south towards the outskirts of town. She had promised her heart to Raoul the Vicomte de Chagny. She had sworn her love and devotion to him, but then why was she so happy to be leaving with her Angel? It made no sense. Raoul had said so himself; she could not love both of them. But if that was true, then which one of them did she really love? Raoul, or her Angel of Music?

Erik turned sharply to the right and they stood in front of a small building, with mud colored bricks. Erik pulled out a small key, opened the door and entered the building, pulling his music pupil behind him.

The inside was warm despite how small and unfurnished it was. It was like a rather large closet, with clothing hanging up on racks, along with all sorts of equipment sitting on shelves that lined the walls.

The Phantom wasted no time in looking around. He went to the nearest hanger and pulled off the coat that it held. He shrugged it over his shoulders before he went to another rack and pulled off a shawl. He handed it to Christine, and she took it gratefully, for she was shivering with cold. He grabbed a bag that sat on the floor next to the side door, and started filling it with the items from the shelves.

"Where are we going to go?" Christine asked pulling the shawl up around her ears.

"I have an cottage just outside of Epernay where we can stay until things calm down." He replied putting more things into the bag.

"We aren't coming back are we?" Christine asked quietly a tear sliding down her pink cheeks.

The Phantom hesitantly cupped her face in his hands. "No," He answered truthfully looking straight into her large brown eyes.

Christine nodded, and removing his hands from her face, began to help him pack. Once they were done Erik led the way back outside where he went around to the other side of the small building, where to Christine's surprise they found a stable with midnight black mares grazing lazily at soft hay. The Phantom walked over to each in turn and offered words of loving praise before he bridled them, and got the carriage ready.

When he had finished he quickly helped Christine inside before he took his place as the driver and yelled at the horses bringing them into a gallop. Their hooves beating against the falling snow as they left Paris behind them and head out into the open French countryside.

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The windows of the carriage where covered by long black curtains that made it almost completely dark inside. Christine would have fallen asleep if she hadn't had so much on her mind. She had shed some tears as they had left, but in truth she was too numb to feel much of anything.

She would miss the Opera House, and all the people who lived there. She would miss Madame Giry and Meg: the only true family she had left. But most of all she would miss visiting her father. She would miss singing by his grave and dreaming about the good times they had shared. She would miss saying goodbye.

She felt the carriage slowing down, and soon stop altogether. The door opened and blinding light filled the dark carriage. Christine blinked rapidly as the Phantom offered her his hand. She took it and got out carefully, looking around.

She had to fight back the tears that threatened to leave her eyes. She couldn't believe where they were.

Erik the Angel of Music offered her his arm and together they traveled through the carved stones, as the light of day began to fade.

Soon they arrived in front of a large grave and stopped. Christine no longer hid her tears as she fell to her knees in front of her fathers grave. She cried as she touched the stone that was now the only symbol her father had left.

She felt warm arms wrap around her waist comfortingly and felt a small kiss being planted in her hair.

"No more talk of darkness. Forget these wide eyed fears. I'm here. With you, beside you to guard you and to guide you." The Phantom whispered in her ear, his firm voice calming her.

"All I want is freedom," Christine sang back her hands holding onto his that now encased her waist. "A world with no more night. And you always beside me to hold me and to hide me."

Her Angel paused before he sang quietly, "Then let us say good bye."

"Help me say good. . . . .goodbye." Christine sang sobbing as she clung to him. She felt like a child again and for once she wasn't ashamed of it.  

"Say you love me," she begged.  

"You know I do," He replied stroking hair tenderly. "You know I do."

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