Her Savior, A Raoul/Christine fanfiction

A/N: Hi all! After reading the libretto and listening to the music of the Phantom sequel, Love Never Dies, I was seriously upset, especially at the immense wrongs that were comitted against the original, especially concerning Raoul's character. This sequel makes Erik's beautiful moment of compassion at the end of the original completely moot, and that's just not cool. As such, I'm choosing to ignore the sequel and not recognize it as canon. I also felt an immense need to write Raoul-centric fanfiction. :) This will be a collection of one-shots on events that happen after the original story ends. It is heavily ALW musical and movie based (I have the chandelier fall after Point of Return, instead of after All I Ask of You), but will have elements of Leroux thrown in, such as Phillipe's death, Raoul having sisters, details from R and C's childhood, etc. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1: Saving Each Other

I sat beneath the grand, arched ceiling of Notre Dame Cathedral, sunlight filtering in through the stained glass windows and onto my pew. Two weeks. Two weeks since the disaster, since I had nearly lost my Christine, since my own life had nearly been sucked from my lungs...since the Opera ghost had released us, his whereabouts unknown. Finally my mind fell on Phillipe, and my breath caught in my chest. My brother, the man who had raised me and seen to my care after our parents had passed away. My confidante and father figure. His body had been discovered in the cellars of the Opera House just recently, hence the delayed funeral, which was to take place in a few days. Whether the Phantom, who I had recently learned was called Erik, had killed Phillipe, or whether he had simply fallen prey to any of the many traps within the cellars, was unknown, and really, it had ceased to matter to me. He was gone, and there was nothing I could do.

I rested my head in my hands, sighing. This was the first time I'd had any significant time alone since everything had happened. Aside from purchasing new clothes for Christine, as her old ones had been lost in the fire, we'd hardly ventured outside my chateau. Instead we stayed inside, wrapped up in each other's arms, holding on for dear life, afraid we'd be seperated once more. The past few days however, had forced us to venture out. We'd been called into questioning on the whole matter at the Opera, busy clearing our names and dealing with the nasty rumors floating around the city. These would die in time, I knew, but I'd promised Christine that once we were married, we could go to Perros, by the sea at Brittany, and stay as long as we wished. Then of course, there were the wedding plans.

The wedding...

It was to take place in two weeks time. I smiled for the first time all day. Christine. My beautiful, sweet darling. Currently she and Meg were at the dress shop with Madame Giry, doing final dress fittings. When I had attempted to come along, all three had laughed.

"Raoul my love," Christine had chuckled, trying to keep a serious expression, her hand resting affectionately on my chest, brown eyes aglow. "You are absolutely forbidden to see my dress until I walk down the aisle. Meg and Madame are keeping it at their new flat just to make sure."

I'd laughed and agreed.

"It's bad luck, I know. Have fun darling. I leave you in Madame Giry and Meg's capable hands."

My smile grew wider at the thought of my fiance. Despite everything, I still had her, safe and whole, and that kept me going. My childhood sweetheart was my world. This happy thought, however, led me to darker ones, associated with the man who had also loved Christine. I clenched my fists. Part of me wanted to hate him without question, to forever loathe him for nearly shattering Christine's heart, for nearly killing me, for sending the Opera into dissarray, for Phillipe's death. I felt the still very prominent rope burns around my neck, which I had tried to conceal from the public with higher collars in order to prevent even more gossip. But the other half of me simply couldn't hate him entirely. The compassion Christine had shown him...the compassion he had shown us in return...the expression on his face...his pained shouts telling us to go...they were etched in my mind forever. In that moment, he was simply a man, a man who had rarely known human kindness, let alone love, aside perhaps from Madame Giry's rescue from the gypsy camp. I knew too, that Christine would forever hold a sort of daughter-like affection for him, which I wanted to respect. The conflicting emotions hit me with a rush as I glanced up at the crucifix, pondering God's hand in all of this. I'd always had a strong faith, and still did, but all of this had tested my resolve. I questioned why all of this had to happen, why Erik had chosen Christine, why plights like his occurred at all. My mind flashed back to that dreadful night, to the Phantom's harsh words in my ear:

"Order your fine horses now! Raise up your hand to the level of your eye! Nothing can save you now, except perhaps, Christine!"

And she had saved me, willing to give up her own freedom. Her life, essentially. After all my effort, after all the fight I'd put up...Christine had been forced to save me...I'd wanted so much to protect her. For the first time in the past two weeks I felt tears blur my vision, hot and unyeilding. I was thankful the cathedral was nearly empty as I covered my face in my hands. Several minutes later I heard soft footsteps coming toward me and a familiar voice speaking to me, quiet and angelic, as she sat down beside me. I looked up, breathing deeply in an attempt to hide my moment of weakness.

"Jacques said I'd find you here," said Christine. "I..." she stopped at seeing my presumably tear stained face.

"How were the dress fittings?" I asked, smiling at her.

"What's wrong, Raoul?" she asked, ignoring my question, her deep brown eyes gazing at me with immense concern.

"Nothing darling," I responded, taking her small hands in mine.

"I know you Raoul," she instantly argued. "You can't lie to me. Please, tell me what's bothering you."

I met her eyes again and she smiled, reassuring me.

"It's just..."I began, willing my voice not to break. "I feel as though I failed you, Christine. I wasn't able to save you back in that lair. I couldn't save you from any of it. I promised you, I swore to protect you. You are the bravest woman I know for what you did in the lair, for performing Don Juan."

"Raoul," said Christine, cutting me off and pulling me closer. "How could ever think you didn't save me? Where would I be if you hadn't come after me when I went to the cemetary? Where would I be if you hadn't come down to the lair? What chance would there have been for me? You were willing to die for me without a second thought, Raoul!"

"Christine," I tried to cut in, but she wouldn't have it.

"The first time I'd been truly happy in these past years was when you showed up at my dressing room door with that playful smile of yours, all grown up. You saved me, Raoul, from my dark, unhappy existence." She reached into her pocket, pulling out a piece of red material."Just like the little boy who saved this scarf from the sea. He was never concerned with himself: he was always concerned more for me."

She squeezed my hand, almost looking stern, then breaking out into a full grin, the first one I'd seen on her face since that terrible night.

"Where on earth did you find that?" I asked, awestruck.

"Meg found it," she replied. "When she went back to our rooms to see if anything could be salvaged. This made it."

I chuckled. "That's one determined scarf. Well, we'd best get back home, love. Dinner will be on soon."

She nodded in agreement and I took her hand as we genuflected toward the tabernacle. I silently thanked God for the blessing beside me. We had nearly reached the doors when something creaked, and Christine whipped around, suddenly on edge.

"I'm sorry," she said, realizing herself. "I thought I heard someone behind us."

I let go of her hand and placed my arm snugly about her shoulders, pulling her in as we walked out into the sunlight. She'd been jumpy ever since that fateful night in the lair, and I'd spent many nights holding her when she woke up terrified after a nightmare. She'd been prone to them ever since we were children, and I did my best to soothe her.

"You know," I said a few moments later, daring to bring up the subject, albeit in a gentle manner. "I think you saved him too. The Opera Ghost, I mean. You showed him there is kindness in humanity...that not everyone would treat him with disdain."

She gazed up at me, tears sparkling in her eyes. "Maybe," she said, taking a deep breath. "I hope so."

We walked in silence for a bit, my arm around her shoulder, hers around my waist. Sometimes it hurt far too much to talk about what had happened. Extensive conversation would come with time, when the wounds had taken some time to scab over.

"Raoul," she said, turning to face me. " I love you. More than my life. I need you to know that."

"I love you too, Little Lotte," I said, kissing the side of her head.

"And I need you to know...want you to know...you're my savior. Truly."

"And you mine," I responded, my heart swelling as I kissed her lips beneath the cloudless Parisian sky.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this! The next one will be up soon!