I corrected those mistakes that the readers mentioned... finally! Sorry it took so long.
Summary:
POTO One-Shot Please read… A wandering child gets lost… see what happens and what promise is renewed.
A/N: I hope you enjoy the following story. I would plead you to read and review, but do whatever you want. Since this is my first (and maybe last) piece of fanfiction, I would appreciate any constructive criticism or comments, and promise to read any and all reviews I get. This story is based on the 2004 ALW movie even though I have read and love the book. This is a go between story for the movie's "two endings."
Disclaimer: I don't own The Phantom of the Opera. This masterpiece belongs to Gaston Leroux and Alexander Lloyd Webber except for the children… you'll see what I mean.
Wandering Child
It was a light winter's day, warm for Midwinter. People filled the streets of Paris to finish errands, taking advantage of the break in the light, but consistent snow of the past few days. Among this crowd wandered the Viscount's family enjoying a family outing and the bustle of Paris life.
Christine, now the Countess de Chagny, held the hand of her eight-year-old daughter Jeanne-Marie. She strolled next to her husband while occasionally glancing behind to check on her five-year-old son, Charles, who lagged behind deliberately plowing through the remaining snow gathered along the buildings. Jeanne took after her father where as Charles had the dark hair, dark eyes, and fair skin of his mother. This continued until they suddenly entered into the tumult of a large crowd which separated them. When the confusion passed, Christine, still holding onto Jeanne, found Raoul, but they couldn't find Charles…
Raoul backtracked to look for him while Christine asked around the immediate area, but he remained out of reach and missing. When dark fell, they were forced to return home although Raoul had placed a message at the police station.
That night, it was somber at home. Jeanne was confused and kept on asking where Charles, her usual playmate and troublemaking partner, was until she was sent to bed. Raoul tried to console his dazed wife while trying to control his own fears. Neither noticed that his embrace slightly shook as they sat together on the couch near the fireplace, silent. As the fire died down, he rose to retire to their room after giving his wife a slight kiss and soft words of comfort, leaving her to her own thoughts, understanding that she needed that privacy.
In Christine's mind, hundreds of scenarios snapped through every moment, each worse than the one before until she finally broke down into silent sobs and tears on the couch. All that remained of the fire was a pile of glowing embers. She sent a prayer to God for the safe return of her son.
Now, we return to Charles who remained unaware of his parents' worries. During the entirety of his parents' frantic search for him, he had been having an adventure. After the crowd had accidentally swept him into an alley, he began to explore the city streets quite cheerfully and excitedly. He wandered down roads and boulevards, ogling the marvels in shop windows, enjoying the warmth of bright crowds, and watching the random street performers. This lasted until dark began to fall, and night was arriving. It was beginning to grow cold, and shops were beginning to close, turning off the cheery lights. Charles began to grow afraid of the darkness and its unknowns. Chills also ran up and down his body as he wandered the dark streets lost and lonely, never noticing the shadow that had been following him since he was separated from the rest of his family, whom he was now missing terribly. His stomach grumbled loudly since he hadn't eaten since his midday meal except for a single sweet that had been his treat for the day. Finally, Charles sat down on the nearby pavement, too exhausted, helpless, and frightened to even cry.
This all happened as the shadow kept its silent vigil, watching. He, yes it is a he, thought to himself, "He looks so much like his mother…"
Charles felt so miserable, and he wandered along the usual path of self-pity, as children his age usually do, when a large shadow suddenly covered him, and he looked up. He saw that it was just a man, a very tall man wearing a black cloak with the collar turned up so that it hid his face. The man was offering a black-gloved hand to him, clearly offering help. Charles sensed danger, and yet, he trusted the man.
The shadow man watched, half expecting to be rejected, as the young child placed his smaller hand in his own and led the child down the street once again thinking…
Charles followed the stranger obediently, a stranger as dark as the night. He felt that the stranger would lead him home. They only made one stop along the way at a street vendor's cart where the stranger bought him a pastry that Charles ate hungrily. With food in his stomach, Charles soon became tired from the long walk, and sleepy. He managed to stay awake until they arrived at the entrance of the park near his home, where he, alas, fell asleep such that the "shadow man" picked him up and carried the slight, young boy home.
The shadow easily slipped along the grounds of the manor, now slightly covered with mist, and to and through the open window of the nursery. He then placed the boy on the bed next to one that was already occupied by Jeanne. The nursemaid was nowhere to be seen. He idly noted that she was probably gossiping among the other servants.
Meanwhile, Christine had sensed a familiar presence and had heard a slight noise in the nursery. She quickly, but silently, went to the room and entered. However, there was no one there. She checked on her daughter, but her heart stopped for a moment and her eyes widened when she saw that her son was safe in his bed fast asleep.
She noticed a red rose tied with a black ribbon lying on the night table next to her son's bed. A soft smile crossed her face as light tears misted her eyes. She placed a kiss on her son's forehead, smoothing the bed covers. She then turned around and whispered into the night, "Thank you, my Angel of Music," knowing that wherever he was, he would hear her. The "angel," called many other names as well, was outside the window, and he smiled. From the depths of their minds, the music of the night played again…
The phantom then left, melting into the darkness of the night, fingering a ring –her ring—that hung on a ribbon tied around his neck. It was her promise to not forget… it was for him, to let him know that he was not alone, that he was cared for, loved…
The End…
A/N: This story was inspired by the last scene of the movie called "Their Beloved" (yes, I know it is a bit creepy that I look through the scene selection for fun, but…no excuse.) I think that Raoul and Christine truly loved each other, but it was Christine and Erik who shared a soul (just listen to their music!) In a way, I think that Raoul understood that Christine would never be entirely his, half of her heart, soul, and mind belonged to Erik, just as THEIR love for her would be everlasting, transcending beyond time. (A bit sentimental, I know, but I am being entirely serious.) Now this is the end of my crazy rambling. Please R&R (if you want to… please.)
The Hamster in My Mind (P.S.: I intensely love Erik although I am not a Raoul hater.)