AN- Raoul, Erik, etc. don't belong to me. Nor does the concept of Highlander type Immortality.
The old man's rheumy eyes stared at the rose, red as blood against his wife's headstone. Around its thorny stem gleamed a diamond ring. Though it belonged to him, Raoul had not seen it in decades, not since the Opera Ghost had ripped it from the chain around Christine's neck before disappearing from the masquerade ball. Christine had told him that only a few nights later, it had been returned to her by the Phantom in his lair before the dramatic confrontation that ended in Raoul being rescued by a kiss. However, she had turned back from their boat, long enough only to give the ring to her captor, to Erik. That damned ghost had always held a piece of her heart he had never been able to claim.
"How curious," the sister who wheeled his chair murmured. "Perhaps one of your grandchildren--?"
Raoul shook his head. He wondered...no it was impossible. Yes, he knew that Madame Giry still lived, but Erik had been older than her, and besides, surely, surely he'd died in the fire that destroyed the opera house.
"Sister, would you please go back to the carriage and get another cloak? I'm chilled," Raoul wheezed. Some urge compelled him to stay in place.
"Viscount, perhaps we should just go, you've left your- - gift for your late wife," the nurse's scorn, though carefully masked, was evident in her dubious tone.
"I'm not ready to," he insisted peevishly, "but I am cold. GO now." Ironically, he echoed Erik's last words slightly.
"Very well."
When she had gone a ways away, a shadow separated itself from behind the stones. "So, we meet again," a hooded form chuckled. That voice, Raoul could never forget it. The fine timbre had not been diminished by time one whit. It was simply not fair.
"Why her?" Raoul asked, settling on one of the thousand questions that had tormented him for too long.
"Because she listened to my heart, she saw a beauty in me that no one else did," the Phantom simply said. "She made my music something alive. Because she was - herself."
"She never stopped loving you," Raoul rasped. "She loved- us both."
"I know. But I frightened her. " The hood fell back to reveal that age had not touched Erik at all. Mercifully, he was hidden behind his masque. "Had you not cherished and loved her, I would have ignored that fact. She was happy with you. Thank you for that."
It would seem that time may not have changed his aspect, but his soul had become less distorted as ages passed.
"How do you live as you do?" Raoul demanded.
The Phantom shrugged. "I know not. Death and time want no part of me, apparently. I've heard that I'm part of some cosmic game, with but one winner. Tell me, Viscount, what would I do with a prize?" He laughed bitterly. "Au revoir, Raoul de Chagny. We will not meet again."
And he was gone.
The good sister returned. "Viscount? Did I hear voices?"
Raoul blinked. Perhaps it had been a dream.
A phantasm.
Or perhaps...
Not.
