A/N: Hey everybody! I present to you, the first story I've done in awhile that wasn't a songfic. The story is a crossover between American McGee's Alice: Madness Returns and POTO. It had struck me (when I replayed Madness Returns a few weeks ago) how Alice's delusions of Wonderland and Christine's dreams of an Angel of Music were similar-both were encountered after the death of family. It then struck me how similar Alice and Erik were, and thus the idea for this fic was born. This fic is also heavily based on the 25th anniversary musical (with Hadley as Raoul and Erik's deformity more exaggerated). Anyway, I hope you enjoy my new project!
"Wake up, Alice dear!" said Lizzie; "Why, what a long sleep you've had!"
"Oh, I've had such a curious dream!" said Alice, and she told her sister, as well as she could remember them, all these strange adventures of hers, and when she had finished, Lizzie kissed her, and said, "It WAS a curious dream, dear, certainly: but now run in for tea; it's getting late." So Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she ran, as well she might, what a wonderful dream it had been.
Alice screeched to a halt at the closed parlor door, straightened out her hair and dress in the adjacent hall mirror, took a deep breath, and knocked at the door. "Come in," she heard her mother's voice call. She opened the door, eager to tell her mother and father all about her strange adventures, but froze at the sight of four strangers with her parents-a man, a woman, a younger man around Lizzie's age, and a little boy maybe a year older or so than Alice. "Alice, come here, please," her father requested, and Alice complied quietly. The strange man smiled at her. "Your younger daughter?" Alice smiled up at him. He had a funny accent-it sounded French to her ears. "Alice, where is Lizzie?" her mother asked. Right on cue, Lizzie entered the room, and Alice thought for a second that the young man would faint. She studied him, finding him to her liking, much more than her father's strange undergraduate. Introductions were made and Alice found out the young man was named Phillipe and the little boy around her age was named Raoul.
Little Raoul found his way over to where Alice was petting Dinah and sat down on the floor with her. "What's her name?" he asked, reaching out and stroking the cat's head. "Dinah." Raoul smiled. It was a nice smile, one that showed off all of his teeth. "Do you have any pets of your own?" He shook his head. "No. Mother doesn't like them. I would really like a cat, though." "Would you like one that could talk?" Raoul frowned. "It would depend on what the cat would say...why do you ask?" "I met one today." Alice replied smugly. "Really?" Raoul asked her, wide-eyed. "Yes." "...that's not true! Talking cats don't exist!" "Maybe not here," she said simply. "But in Wonderland they do." "Wonderland?" Alice sighed. "Make yourself comfortable, Raoul," she said. "It's a long story. I was beginning to get very tired of sitting by Lizzie on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice I had peeped into the book my sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, and what good is a book, without pictures or conversation? So there I was, considering my own mind..."
A DECADE LATER...
After the 'suicide' of Bumby, Alice had taken complete charge of the orphanage. Bumby's money disappeared under 'mysterious circumstances,' and Alice had taken great care to clean up herself, the half-brainwashed children, and, of course, her Wonderland. Now the children, under her care, were modeled to live in the present-to have their past to know who they were, but to keep looking forward into the future, as she did. Of course, people still thought her a lunatic, but as always, Alice couldn't really care less.
It had been 6 months since Alice had taken charge, and was working night and day to try to restore the children's memories, to know who they were and where they were from. Nan Sharpe, who would stop by and help Alice with the children on occasion, had insisted that she go off and take a vacation, as she was still young and active. It had taken a fair deal of persuasion, but finally Alice had consented and written a letter to an old friend who lived in the city and asked if they should meet. The main reason she wrote him, however, was to ask about his contacts with some insightful men.
"Alice!"
She turned and spotted Raoul himself jump excitedly out of his carriage. He had obviously changed over the past years, turning much more handsome and manly. "Alice!" He exclaimed again, taking her hands eagerly. "How are you? How is London? How are your mother and father and Lizzie-" Alice jerked her head away. "They never told you?" Raoul looked at her, confused, and laughed nervously. "All I was told was we couldn't go to England anymore..." "My family is gone." Raoul's hands fell from hers. "What?" he whispered. "My family is gone, Raoul. A...stalker of Lizzie's burned my house down." Raoul sensed that she didn't want to talk about it then, so he quickly changed the subject, asking her what she was doing in London, to which she answered she ran an orphanage. They talked on for some time, mostly about the doctors Raoul had set up to meet with her, and then somehow Alice ended up in the carriage, driving to the Opera Garnier.
They pulled up at the magnificent building a few minutes later, and Alice could barely contain her gasp. The building looked like something out of a fairy tale, a palace for kings and queens. Maybe she could build a replica in Wonderland. Raoul took off his gloves and helped her out of the carriage as two men came up to them. One being tall with slicked back black hair and a black, (rather impressive) mustache, the other being short with gray hair and a small mustache, looking much more cheery. They welcomed Raoul hastily, then the gray-haired one noticed Alice walking a bit behind Raoul quietly and smiled brightly. He didn't seem too bad. "And who is this?" Raoul took her hand and lead her forward. "This is my dear friend Mademoiselle Alice Lidell." Alice nodded and said lightly, "It is a pleasure to meet you..." It then struck her that she didn't even know their names. She didn't need to, as the two men were met by another man who smiled at her and Raoul and took the two men off to where Alice heard a chorus singing and a magnificent orchestra backing it up.
She and Raoul walked slower and were greeted soon by some escorts in old fashioned wigs and tailcoats. They were walked over to the stage, just as they heard the black-haired one (Firmin, from what she'd heard) announce, "And we are deeply honored to introduce our new patron: the Vicomte de Chagny." Raoul took Alice's hand confidently, and just like that, they were on the stage.
CHRISTINE POV
"The Vicomte de Chagny!" The new manager's voice announced. Is it...? Christine went up the stairs with Meg and the others, and for a moment her breath caught in her throat. Memories of the red scarf (goodness, where had she put it?), of the sea, of violins and stories told by lamplight. Then she caught sight of the thin, pale hand Raoul was holding and was jolted back to reality.
The young woman who the hand belonged to was...a curiosity. She was extremely pale, with surprisingly bright green eyes and hair that seemed to change color from midnight black to an extremely dark brown. She looked almost as if she was a ghost. She wore a humble sky blue day dress, but held up her head as if she was a queen. "It's Raoul," Christine murmured. Meg turned as Christine felt herself rambling about their childhood, hoping those words of memory would make the black-haired woman seem less imposing to her feelings for Raoul. It didn't work. "My parents and I are proud to support all the arts," Raoul announced, "especially the world-renowned Opera Populaire." More applause was given, and then Raoul gestured to his green-eyed companion. "I'd like you all to meet my dear friend Alice Liddell." She smiled, cold but unsure. "It is my pleasure to meet you all," she said strongly with a royal-sounding accent. Out of nowhere, all the young male stagehands started whispering something about this Alice Liddell being 'a godawful Brit!'. Apparently she heard them, because as Carlotta went up to her and Raoul she swung her head to stare at them and they all fell silent.
"Mademoiselle Liddell, Vicomte, gentlemen, Signora Carlotta Giudicelli, our leading soprano for five seasons now." Carlotta held out her hand to be kissed, to which Raoul did, and then Alice Liddell offered her hand to Carlotta to shake. They shook hands as if business partners, and just as Alice's touch left, a sudden change appeared in the Prima Donna that everyone noticed. She flinched as if electrocuted, took a few steps back, and for a moment there was a look of pure terror on her face. Then as quickly as it had happened, it was gone. Piangi was introduced, and Alice seemed to take a liking to him, as after they shook hands, Alice gave him a surprisingly warm half-smile and no terror-struck look was upon Piangi's face. "An honor, signor," Raoul says, taking up Alice's hand again, and Christine winced. "I believe we may be keeping you from your rehearsal. We will both be here this evening to share your great triumph." His raven-haired companion seemed surprised at the prospect, but quickly changed her expression back to normal. "My apologies, monsieur," he said to Reyer, and Alice echoed it. Christine's eyes never left them, she didn't think they were able to. Did he even remember Little Lotte at all? Or was his mind now full of a frightening 'Brit' woman?
Her eyes lit up, however, when she saw Raoul and Alice walking out towards where she and the other ballerinas were. Raoul walked quickly, but Alice was about three steps behind, attempting to take in all the golden statues and red velvet. Raoul's shadow passed over her without noticing and Christine and Meg lowered their eyes. However, Christine felt a different pair of eyes on her and she looked up quickly. Alice Liddell slowed down and looked at her straight in the eyes, as if sensing something about her, as if her eyes were staring directly into her soul, exposing and exploring every secret she ever had-including her Angel. Christine blinked in surprise, and when she opened her eyes again, she saw Alice caught up with Raoul, and just like before, holding his hand.
ALICE POV, THAT NIGHT
Alice found herself enjoying the opera a lot. Much better than that bizarre one in the Dreary Lane Theater. Raoul seemed quite happy as well. They sat in their own private box closest to the stage with two glasses and a bottle of some of the world's finest champagne. She did, however, feel a bit out of place in all this finery. Not that she was self-conscious of her plain, simple brown evening dress, but the gold and red velvet everywhere and crystal chandelier almost appeared to dwarf her. Even the costumes of the actors made her feel alienated. France was a most peculiar place, one which she wanted to explore.
Then the dark-haired ballerina that Alice had exchanged a glance with earlier stepped up, dressed in a poofy, uncomfortable-looking white ballgown. She began to sing, at first a bit unsurely, and then regained her confidence and sang almost like those mythical sirens in the stories Alice's mother would read to her. She had to admit, the ballerina was very good. However, she began to worry when Raoul leaned forward in the box with a perplexed look of happiness on his face. "Can it be? Can it be Christine?" he questioned to no one. To Alice, it sounded almost like he was singing. "Bravo!" he shouted, startling Alice slightly. "Long ago, it seems so long ago, how young and innocent we were...she may not remember me, but, I remember her..." Alice raised an eyebrow at this, but decided to ignore it. She couldn't have been the only childhood friend of Raoul's to vanish for him.
The ballerina-'Christine'-finished off with her song with some of the most extraordinary singing Alice had ever heard. And just like everyone else did, she stood up and clapped for her wildly. Before they could even sit down again, Raoul grabbed her hand and yanked her out of the box excitedly, grabbing a rose that had been next to their champagne bottle while rambling about how he had rescued Christine's red scarf from the sea. Alice frowned. Odd. "Where are you taking me?" she asked, amused by the giddy look upon his face. "To see Christine!" he cried, practically skipping down the hallways. "I want you to meet her!" "Why?" "You'll like her, Alice," Raoul replied, looking over his shoulder and giving a huge smile in her direction. "There's nothing to be nervous about!" "I'm not-" Suddenly, her protests were drowned out in a crowd of stagehands and patrons and audience members trying to find Christine. Raoul lost his grip on her and Alice found herself spinning, alone in the crowd. Her cries for him went unheard amongst the din, but suddenly Alice's wrist was grabbed from behind and she found herself tugged to a less crowded area. The young man-a stagehand-that had taken her there released her, and Alice found herself face-to-face with stagehands of several ages, all looking at her with interest. The looks weren't particularly prying or dirty-Alice found their gaze to be like that of curious children coming across a rabbit hole.
"Why have you brought me here?" Alice demanded. At her words, one of the younger stagehands clapped his hands once and pointed at an older one. "HA! I told you she was a legitimate Brit!" Alice raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" "Well, you are, aren't you? You're English." "Yes..." The younger one held out his hand expectantly to the older one, who sighed and put a few francs in his hand. "Hey, uh, how did you do that thing?" "Do what?" "The thing with Carlotta. How'd you scare her?" "I don't know. All I did was look at her." The stagehand who had taken her away laughed. "Madamoiselle..." "Liddell," Alice supplied. "Madamoiselle Liddell. You have somehow accomplished a feat that only one other has completed before." "And who is this person you speak of?" The stagehands all exchanged wry, childish smiles. "Why, the opera ghost!" Alice was interested now. "Opera ghost?" They all nodded devilishly. "The only other person able to scare the devil out of that toadish bitch besides you." "ALICE!" she heard Raoul yell from somewhere in the throng-quite nearby, actually. She gave the stagehands a hasty goodbye and weaved her way through the crowd until she found Raoul, near the prima donna's dressing room with the managers not too far behind. "Ah, there you are," he said to Alice with a smile as she grabbed his hand again.
"Vicomte!" They each called. "I'd say we've made quite the discovery with Miss Daae," Firmin said. "Perhaps we could present her to you?" Andre cut in nervously. "Gentlemen, if you wouldn't mind, this is one visit we'd prefer to make unaccompanied." Raoul and Alice both nodded respectfully before opening the door and entering the surprisingly quiet dressing room. It was much too pink for Alice's taste, but she supposed that the room did look nice. It looked like it belonged in the Dollhouse. And upon the stool facing the vanity, taking the silvery star clips out of her curly hair, was Christine Daae. "Miss Daae," Alice found herself saying as she closed the door, "Where is your red scarf?" The girl frowned at her in the mirror. "Ma'moiselle?" "Well you can't have lost it," Raoul played along, walking forward towards the floor-to-ceiling mirror. "After ALL the trouble I went. I was just 11 and soaked to the skin-" Christine whirled around to face them. "Because you had run into the sea to fetch my scarf! Oh Raoul-" He laughed-seemingly nervously, Alice thought with amusement-and handed the rose to her. They began to speak of a girl named Little Lotte from some fairytale, and Alice amused herself by looking into the mirror and making faces, imagining that perhaps Wonderland was behind the mirror.
"...Father said, when I'm in heaven, child, I will send you the angel of music. Well, Father is dead, Raoul. And I HAVE been visited by the angel of music." Alice's interest was piqued. In her searches for people who could have a clue on how to save the children, she learned she wasn't the only one out there who lived ruler to a land that no one else could see, or the only one prone to wild hallucinations of the twisted around and upside-down. "An angel of music, you say?" Alice interrupted, turning around and looking at Christine with interest. Christine nodded, albeit confused at Alice's sudden breaking of her silence. "And when exactly did you start seeing this angel?" "The day after Madame Giry brought me here to live...a week after my father died." Yes, Alice had discovered her first similar case. The hallucinations of this angel must have been due to 'severe and pervasive trauma' due to her father's death.
Suddenly Christine gasped. "Alice...did you ever tell Raoul about a place called...Wonderland?" Raoul laughed. "Yes, Christine, this is the Alice whose adventures in Wonderland we both tried to have ourselves." "Did you ever find Wonderland again?" Alice snorted. "Thrice. The second time, I stumbled across that world of insanity through a looking-glass." "You must tell me the story of that time, Alice. And now. We go to supper," Raoul said, heading towards the door. "No Raoul, the Angel of Music is very strict!" Christine exclaimed. "I shan't keep you up late." "No Raoul!" Christine begged. "Raoul, please-" Alice sided with Christine (remembering what had happened the last time she had tried to ignore Wonderland). "Leave her to her angel." Raoul rolled his eyes. "I need to get my hat, and Alice, you need your jacket. Two minutes, little Lotte." He nearly dragged Alice out the door as she mouthed to Christine-I tried. "Things have changed, Raoul!" Alice could have sworn she heard Christine shriek from inside, but she couldn't be sure.
Yes, Raoul. Things have certainly changed, and not all of them are for good.
CHRISTINE POV
I shoved the framed portrait of my father in the drawer quickly, and couldn't even stand up before the voice of my Angel roared- "Insolent boy, this brave young suitor! Basking in your glory! Insolent fool, this slave of fashion! Sharing in my triumph!" I did my best to calm him down and apparently succeeded, as he sang to me-
Flattering child, you shall know me
See why in shadow I hide
Look at your face in the mirror
I am there, inside!
Through the haze, I could barely hear my own voice, singing something about the Angel revealing himself. My mirror slid aside, as if by magic, and in the back of my mind, a woman's voice with a British accent said darkly:
...I stumbled across that world of insanity, through a looking-glass...
A/N: There! How was that? It may take me about a week or so to update this, so please be patient. Anyway, thank you for reading and please review!