Christine burst into the room, devastated tears running down her face. "Raoul, you have to stop them!"

With a sigh, Raoul turned to face her, face set into a grim expression. He had clung onto the vain hope that his wife wouldn't hear the news, that the past would stay behind them where it belonged. Of course, how wouldn't she find out? She was probably one of the first people to be told that her one time stalker, the infamous Phantom of the Opera had been captured by the police and sentenced to death for his crimes.

"There's nothing I can do," he says simply. It's not a lie. While he could direct the police in pursuit of a criminal, it would take a strong case to convince them to set one free.

"There must be-"

"Nor would I, even if there was." She gasps softly at this, looking shocked, and Raoul looks away from her. "You know what he's done, Christine. I don't mind that he escaped, and if he was never seen again, that would have been fine with me. But he's in the hands of the law now, and he's going to pay for his crimes." He doesn't want to be cruel to her, really, but he knows how she feels about him, even after all they went through while he was a relentless shadow in her mind. She'll beg him to do something, anything to save the man she should hate but can't, and Raoul will either crumble helplessly before her, find a way, and release the man who tried to kill him, or crumble helplessly, fail to find a way, and have to suffer with Christine through her anguish. He's not sure which would be the more unbearable outcome.

He risks a glance at her. Tears are still dripping slowly down her pale face despite her eyes being clenched shut, lip trembling as her hands grip the fabric of her dress. Raoul moves his gaze to the ceiling and folds his arms, his hand tightening around his elbow as he resists the urge to wrap them around Christine instead. If she's going to make a sensible choice, he can't coddle her. After a moment of silence, Christine turns away, moving towards a chair. She sat, head bowed, fingers worrying at her skirt still. Before he can stop himself, Raoul follows her and kneels at her feet, taking her hands in his to still them. His thumb starts running over her knuckles, and he watches them move to avoid looking into her eyes. "This is for the best. Now we'll know that it's really over, that he'll never come back-"

"I know." Raoul's head jerks up, surprised to hear Christine agree. Her sad eyes meet his, and she tries to put on a brave face. Her success is minimal. "I know I should be glad he's been found, and that he's going to..." Her face crumples again, and she pulls one of her hands free to clasp his. "I just can't bear the thought of him being... It's horrible, Raoul, I- I- I don't want him to die, Raoul!"

Those pleading eyes pin him until he blinks and breaks the spell. Raoul tugs his hand free and abruptly gets to his feet. He doesn't see the hurt cross her face, though he can sense it as he turns and heads for the door. His step falters, and he half-turns back to her. Christine, seeing reluctant and anxious acceptance instead of rejection in her husband's face, slowly breaks into a weak and watery smile.

"Thank you, my love."

"Monsieur Vicomte, are you really suggesting that we let that monster go?" The head of police stared in disbelief from under bushy eyebrows.

"Of course not. I was merely inquiring about what other options there may be considering his sentencing." Raoul keeps his expression neutral and tries not to feel like a fool. "Perhaps you could just keep him imprisoned?"

"But why? I thought you of all people would be glad to see him hang."

It takes a fair bit of restraint not to respond "I would," but that would end their discussion here and now. A part of him wonders why he shouldn't just leave now and tell Christine he tried, but at the thought of Christine in tears again, he resolves that if he fails, he's going to be able to honestly tell her he did his best. "Can his sentencing be changed to life imprisonment or not?"

The head of police leans back and drums his fingers on the desk. "Perhaps. You'll probably have to convince the judge to change his ruling." The emphasis on 'convince' implied that it wouldn't be so much convincing as greasing his palms. "Then I suppose it's just a matter of shipping him off to Australia."

Well, it's something. "Thank you, monsieur. I'll speak with the judge soon."

"Australia?"

Raoul wasn't expecting her to be happy about the idea, but he wished she'd stop looking at him like that. It made him feel guilty that he wasn't giving an answer she wanted, and that frustrated him because there couldn't possibly be a satisfactory solution to this problem.

"His life will be spared. What more can we ask for?"

Christine flounders a little before answering. "Can't he stay here in Paris?"

"What, keep him in my prison? Surely you're joking, Vicomte."

Raoul can feel a headache coming on. "This is hardly a joking matter, monsieur."

"You expect me to house and feed the man 'til the end of his days? You ask too much."

"I'll pay for his board-"

"Vicomte, this is not a hotel! The answer is no."

"It's no use, Christine. Either he dies here, or he lives in a prison in Australia." Raoul's voice is raw with frustration. The back and forth has worn his nerves down and his patience has worn thin. Even so, he grimaces when she flinches at the harsh words. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and calm himself.

"I'm sorry, Christine," he murmurs while reaching for her and pulling her against him. "Those are our only options."

Accepting his embrace, Christine wraps her arms around his waist and leans against him, resting her head against his shoulder. He holds her gently, letting her consider the decision. They stay there for a few moments, until Christine raises her head.

"Raoul... He can't stay here because the police won't keep him?"

"That's right."

She purses her lips, considering an idea. "What if he didn't stay in prison?"

"We can't let him go free," Raoul answers firmly.

"I know, I know... but... what if we keep him somewhere else?"

"Where? There is one place to keep criminals, and that's the prison-"

"We could build somewhere to keep him. Somewhere where he can live and-"

"Christine, we don't have that kind of time. It will take months to build a prison for him. We have a few days." Raoul doesn't know whether the sick feeling is from extinguishing the growing hope in her eyes or from the fact that she's trying so hard to save that fiend. Her brow furrows as she chases after the idea.

"We could keep him here."

Raoul is speechless for a moment, gaping at the outrageous suggestion. When he does answer, he struggles to get the words out. "Absolutely not."

"I know it's a risky plan-"

"It's an insane plan!" It bursts out before Raoul can stop himself, and he plunges on without taking it back. "I have no means of keeping him locked up, even if I did allow him into our home."

"Maybe if I could speak to him-"

"And he is not coming anywhere near you."

Christine stares pleadingly at him. "Please, Raoul, this is the only way."

Raoul shakes his head. "How can you ask me to do this? Christine, the last time we used you to get to him, you begged me not to, and he took you away from me. I am not about to make that mistake again."

Her hands come up to cup his cheeks, holding him still. "This is different, Raoul. He let me go. He let us go." One of Raoul's hands covers one of hers, his face leaning into her palm.

"How can you trust him?"

Christine smiles softly. "I trust you. I know you'll keep me safe."