Betrayal

Okay! This is my fifth POTO story up here (my fourth serious one -grin-) I feel dumb for starting another story, I've got way too many on the go, but I couldn't get this out of my mind. I don't own Phantom of the Opera.

Note: This starts right after Wandering Child and Crossing Swords. Be warned, some Raoul/Christine scenes will be turned into Erik/Christine (mwahaha-cough-)

The snowfall was dying as they finally reached the Opera Populaire. Raoul kissed Christine's cheek, sensing how terrified she was from her encounter with Erik.

"My dear, everything will be fine. I swear to you," he grinned, and whispered in her ear. "I have a plan, you know."

Angel of Music

I denied you!

Turning from true beauty!

It was true. It was so true! Erik knew of her engagement, he knew of her plans to leave him. He knew everything! He was most likely there that night on the roof top, and if not, he had other ways of knowing. He was always there, always watching…

"Christine? Did you not hear me? I said I have a plan!" Raoul repeated, stroking her hair. She ignored her thoughts and smiled back.

"Forgive me, love…what is it?"

"Well," Raoul looked excited. "It's really quite simple. We will play his little opera…what was it? The one he brought to the Masquerade…"

"Don Juan Triumphant…" she sighed, remembering the beautiful pieces she'd heard Erik play. And she was going to be part of it!

"Yes, yes, that's the one. If you sing in it, my dear, you know that he will grace us with his presence. Therefore, we will get every policeman in Paris to come to the opera house. And as soon as we see the white of his mask…" Raoul grinned. "Lets just say that the Phantom will never be bothering us again."

Wait…policemen…

"But you won't hurt him, right, Raoul?" Christine asked hopefully.

"He needs to die, Christine."

"No! You can't!" she cried. Raoul sighed as he tied up his horse.

"Why not? He's a monster, clearly a madman! You said yourself, he'd kill a thousand men without a thought. Why do you still protect him?"

"Because…" Christine sighed, looking past his head into the dying sunlight. "He's still my angel…he gave me my voice…"

"I don't care, Christine!" Raoul cried. "He's trying to take you away!"
"Do you realize that if it weren't for him, you never would have noticed me? If he hadn't shaped my voice, I would still be a girl in the chorus!" Fresh tears stung her red eyes. "And you would never notice a mere chorus girl, would you? Not as he did. He was like a father to me, a friend when I was lonesome…when you weren't around, Raoul, he comforted me…" Bitter tears fell, tracing salty paths down her cheeks. "You can not kill him!"

Raoul sighed and enclosed her in a hug.
"You must forget that, Christine. This man is no friend, you know as well as I do. You cannot live in the past, comfortable as it may be. You must do this now," he tilted her chin up, forcing her eyes to meet his. "For our future's sake."

Christine nodded, not knowing what else to do. Raoul smiled and kissed her.

"Good. Now come, we'll go to supper." He began to walk away.

"No, Raoul! Wait!" he stopped in his tracks. "I am exhausted. I feel I must sleep, if you do not mind." She faked a yawn and fluttered her eyes sleepily. Raoul nodded.
"Of course, my dear. Rest up, for I'm sure Madame Giry will want to drill the new dance moves into your head as soon as possible!" Raoul chuckled.

"Oh no, Raoul. That's for the chorus girls," Christine replied in a small voice. "Erik wants me as Aminta."

She locked the door behind her, pulling off her cloak in haste.

"Angel!" she called out. No answer. She moaned in frustration. "Please, I must see you!" Again, there was no response. She began to sing.

Angel of Father

Friend or Phantom?

"Ha!" cried out Erik's voice. "Angel, you know I am not. And how could this THING be your father? Friend, we ruled out long ago. As for Phantom, it is probably the most fitting, but it is quite rude, is it not? Not that you worry about how you treat me, of course. Not that you care what kind of impact your foolish, childish decisions have on my heart!"

Angel, my soul was weak

Forgive me…

"Nothing you say, or sing for that matter, will change my disgust in you, Christine. I am not your angel!"

"Then please, send me whoever is there!"

"It appears that the only one here is Erik, and he is not good enough for you! How can you expect me to care for you when you find safety from me in another man's arms? Tell me!"

"Erik, they are going to kill you. Please, face me!"

She stared into the darkness of the mirror until a white mask appeared, seemingly suspended off the ground.

"They are going to perform Don Juan Triumphant and when they do, they are going to kill you! Erik," she toughed the mirror, wanting to be as close to him as possible. "You may believe that I don't care at all for you, but I do…I can not see you die! I care for you more than you know…" she gulped and proceeded in a whisper. "Perhaps even more than Raoul…" she found brand new confidence in her voice as she shouted, banging on the mirror. "AND I WILL NOT SEE YOU DIE! OPEN THE BLOODY MIRROR!"

She quickly composed herself and backed away. Before long, Erik was walking towards her, his long legs seemingly dragging on the floor. He had an unreadable expression on his face, his eyes to the ground, his lips closed tight. Finally, he extended his hand, which she took without a moment's hesitation.

"It appears you and I have some planning to do of our own, my dear."

Erk! That was bad! Please review anyway, though