Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.

This is a bit of an angst story in which Christine has to make sense once and for all of all her feelings towards Erik and Raoul. The question is, by the time she does, will they even want her anymore or will she want either of them? Read and Enjoy!

The wooden wheels of the carriage clattered on the rain-wet cobblestones of

the darkened Parisian street. The driver urged the sodden horses on, anxious

to drop off his fare and get home to a nice warm fire and dry clothes. He

thought it extremely unusual to have found such a nice young couple leaving

the opera so late at night. Even the cast and crew had long since left after

tonight's show. He had been on his way home when a young man and woman jumped

into his still moving carriage and ordered him to speed away. He did not even

get a glimpse of what they looked like.

Had he seen the couple, he would have been even more puzzled by their

appearance. The young man was still dressed in his evening tuxedo, but it was

dirty and stained and torn in several places. The young woman was dressed in a

very fine wedding gown, but blood stained the front from a cut on her


Inside the rocking carriage, the man and woman were silent, save for the quiet

sobbing from her.

"Stop it!" snapped Raoul.

She looked up at him through teary eyes as though she could not believe he

would snap at her like that after what she had just been through.

Raoul gave her a look back, "I'll not tolerate you crying for the man who just

threatened your life and nearly took mine!" He said no more, still trying to

deny to himself that he had seen her less than an hour ago, passionately

kissing the man he considered a monster.

She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief and tried to quiet her crying so he

could not hear, but her shoulder still shook, betraying her emotions.

Raoul sighed and leaned back in the velvet seat, closing his eyes. "Its all

over. Its finally over. He will never hurt us again." He looked at Christine

and leaned forward, taking her hands into his, "You never have to worry about

that madman again, Christine."

Christine slowly brought her head up and glared at him through reddened wet

eyes. "And I will not tolerate you calling him THAT!" she spat back at him.

Raoul felt the tension radiating off her angered face and it only caused him

to feel his own head growing hot with rage. "I will call that THING anything I

damn well please! Was it not only minutes ago when he had my neck in a noose

and he could have killed me any moment? You say you love me, but I suppose

that the near loss of my life to that monster means nothing to you?"

The driver could hear the voices inside the carriage growing louder over the

sounds of the rain and the carriage. He leaned back in his seat to eavesdrop

but could not make out what they were saying.

"Raoul, I do love you," Christine said slowly and evenly, "But I also love him."

Raoul sat back looking abashed and said, "Well then I suppose its time you

made your decision who you love more."

"I thought I had already made that clear. I'm here aren't I?"

"Are you?" Raoul replied cynically. "Are you really here? Because I think your

mind is somewhere else."

Christine stared off into the nothingness that fills the darkness of the

streets. "No. I guess I'm not really here. Home is where the heart is. And my

heart belongs somewhere else."

The driver felt the carriage shift and a woman cry out in the night. He turned

his head to see in the flashes from lightening, a woman in a white dress,

limping away into the darkness. The young man in the carriage called out to

her but his voice was drowned out by the loud clap of thunder that bellowed

across the Parisian sky.