The message from the Comte de Chagny arrived shortly before one in the morning.

Monsieur Kadivar:

I apologize for disturbing you at home this late in the evening. I am aware that you are a close friend of my brother Raoul. He has not returned home as of writing. This is unusual for him, and he has not offered an explanation. Do you have any knowledge as to his whereabouts?

Sincerely,

Philippe, Comte de Chagny

Hamid stared at the note for a long time, while the Comte's valet stood awkwardly in his parlour.

He had been disappointed not to see Raoul at the opera house earlier that evening. The night before, as they laid in bed together, Raoul had told him that he'd promised to meet with Christine for a late lunch after the dress rehearsal. With a quick peck on the lips, he'd said that he would try to meet Hamid after the ballet performance later that day.

When Raoul hadn't appeared, Hamid had assumed that he had been obliged to go back to his brother's house. The elder de Chagny had made a certain amount of peace with Raoul and Hamid's friendship, but he was still not overjoyed at his 21-year-old brother spending so much of his time with a mysterious foreigner more than twice his age. (That grudging acceptance, of course, would evaporate if he knew the exact nature of their "friendship").

Hearing that Raoul wasn't with Philippe made Hamid very uneasy. He had already been kept awake at the middle of the night with worry.

He dashed of a quick response, while Darius took the valet into the kitchen for a glass of water.'

Monsieur le Comte:

I last saw the Vicomte earlier this evening at the Palais Garnier in the company of the young soprano Mlle. Daaé. He said that he intended to accompany Mlle. Daaé on a walk by the Seine, after which he would see the young lady home. Perhaps they found themselves absorbed in conversation, as these young friends are wont to do. I shall contact you immediately if I hear from your brother.

Sincerely,

M. Hamid Kadivar

Philippe would be relieved to think that Raoul was merely dallying with Christine. From what Raoul had told him and what he had observed himself, the Comte was happy that his brother was (seemingly) finally taking an interest in women in the way he thought a young man should.

In reality, Raoul and Christine were close friends, but she was decisively not his mistress. Hamid, of course, had first-hand confirmation of that fact. From Raoul, he also knew that Christine's tastes ran more to chorus girls and ballerinas.

With his response carried back by the valet, he might have succeeded in comforting Philippe, but Hamid remained a bundle of nerves. He tried to read, but ended up pacing the room and tormenting himself with increasingly troubling thoughts.

Erik had promised him. He had promised to stay away, and Hamid had actually taken him at his word–a rare event. Perhaps that trust had been misguided. Just perhaps, he shouldn't have believed that the lifelong criminal would respect their history together enough to comply with the simplest request.

Then, next message appeared. The nervous-looking boy that had come to his door raced away the moment the letter was in Hamid's hand. He cut his finger on the paper in his haste to treat open the letter.

D– I have something of yours. Please come collect it. The third storeroom on the lower floor, 10:30 AM. Do not worry yourself. –E

He let out a growl of anger as he balled up the paper and hurled it across the room.

That bastard. That goddamned, smug, self-pitying, sadistic goblin. Of course he shouldn't have trusted Erik as far as he could throw him. He had the gall to tell Hamid not to be worried when he had kidnapped Hamid's lover.

He had to return to Farsi to grumble sufficient curses at his… vaguely, erstwhile often-loathed, occasionally friendlike… companion. That couldn't smother his fear though. Erik seemed to have promised that Raoul wasn't hurt. But, then, Hamid didn't especially trust Erik's understanding of the scale from healthy to hurt. He would only be satisfied when he had Raoul back in his arms.

Madame Giry was there when Hamid arrived at the Palais Garnier. She some vague notion that he was on friendly terms with the "Phantom," so she let him in. After a perfunctory mumble of gratitude, Hamid rushed inside and then downward to the location Erik had named. Hamid knew that he had nowhere near as detailed a knowledge about the layout of the opera house as Erik did, but he could find his way around it better than most; if only because he knew might need to track Erik down at some point.

He was armed a loaded pistol and a knife. He didn't have any illusions about his chances in a direct physical confrontation with Erik, not after how he'd seen the man wield that infernal lasso of his. Still, it was better than nothing. He hoped that he could take Erik's note at face value. Ideally, he wouldn't even see Erik in the course of this "collection."

The storage room the note had indicated was in the bowels of the opera house and mostly abandoned. It mostly housed disused sets and costumes from productions that had become passé, like the Grand Opera Erik so haughtily turned up his (metaphorical) nose at. Hamid wouldn't put it past Erik to try to make a point by stowing Raoul with the cast offs.

Hamid rapped his knuckles on the door, his heart beating much faster than he wished it would. Then, he stood, holding his breath, listening for the slightest sound.

He could just barely make out a little thump and what was maybe a muffled voice.

"Raoul!" Past the point of exercising caution, he flung open the door.

Just a few steps inside, illuminated in the rectangle of light from hallway, was a bulky shape under white sheet. The shape moved slightly and another muffled noise came from under the sheet.

"Oh, my God, Raoul!" Hamid dropped to his knees and tore off the sheet.

Raoul lay on his side, trussed up from head to toe with rope. His arms were forced behind his back, tied together at the wrists and just above his elbows. His legs were folded back, mid-shins to mid-thighs. A rope connected his arms, wrists, and bound ankles, forcing his body into a painful-looking arc. He was blindfolded and gagged with a cloth shoved between his teeth.

He was only wearing an undershirt and trousers, his feet bare. He managed a slightly louder "mph!" but could only wriggle helplessly against the tangle of ropes.

"It's alright, Raoul. I'm here. It's all over. You're safe." For a moment, Hamid just stared, overwhelmed by the mass of knots. He got his head together enough to pull off the blindfold. It was at least a place to start.

Raoul winced in even the meager light. Hamid shuffled around to shade his red-rimmed eyes, as he struggled to pull out the gag without hurting Raoul. All the while, he murmured a steady stream of comforting babble. "I've got you, it's going to be alright. I'm here, love. Delbar-am…"

Raoul gasped for breath the moment the gag was removed. "Ha–Hamid." His voice was small and shaky.

"I'm here, Raoul." He lifted Raoul's upper body as best as he could into his lap. It had to be at least some relief to have his shoulder no longer pressing into the hard ground.

"E–Erik." Raoul gulped. "He… I was just standing there, and he grabbed me, and he…"

"Shh, shh. You're safe now." Hamid stoked his tangled hair. "It's all over. He's gone. No one's going to hurt you."

He noticed for the first time a strand of twine around Raoul's neck, probably just tight enough to be uncomfortable. A piece of folded paper was tucked between the string and his skin. Thankfully, the twine was secured with a simple slipknot. Hamid continued cooing and petting Raoul's hair as he unfolded the paper and quickly read the message inside.

D– I came across your young man loitering at one of my trapdoors last night. I do not appreciate this threat of trespassing. So, I took possession of the little vicomte and secured him until he could be returned to you. He will perhaps be somewhat uncomfortable, but not permanently damaged. Please communicate to your young inamorato that he should not go where he is not wanted. I may not be so courteous a second time. –E

PS: I did appreciate the opportunity to practice a skill that I have not had occasion to exercise in some time. Though I would have hoped this young sailor would offer more of a challenge. You are a man of odd tastes, dear Daroga.

Hamid didn't think that he had ever felt this kind of blazing rage, not just towards Erik, but in his life. If the man were in front of him at that moment, Hamid would not hesitate to shoot him dead.

He had to set that aside though. All that mattered now was Raoul: making sure that he was safe and not in pain. "Are you hurt, love?"

"I… I don't think so. He came from behind me and there was a rope around my neck and I couldn't breathe, and…" Raoul burrowed his face into Hamid's chest, his whole body shaking.

"Shh, it's alright. It's all over." Hamid freed a hand to pull the knife from his belt. "I'm going to get these ropes off of you. I'll have to go slowly, so that I don't cut you."

"Please, just get them off." Raoul's tired, miserable voice made Hamid's heart ache. He wanted nothing more than to bundle his boy up, take him home, and barricade the doors so that no one could ever hurt him again.

He leaned down to kiss Raoul on the forehead, feeling his freezing skin. "I know, love. I'll go as fast as I can."

The obvious place to start was with the rope connecting his wrists and ankles. Raoul gasped in relief as the rope snapped as he was finally able to straighten out his body. "Thank you."

Hamid kissed him again, before moving on to the knots holding his arms in place. He had to focus all of his concentration on sawing through the thick knots, knowing he could lose control of the knife if the ropes abruptly slipped out of place.

Finally, after what felt like hours for Hamid and certainly longer for Raoul, he'd made enough cuts that he could slip off all of the ropes holding his arms in place. Hamid helped Raoul move his trembling arms from their unusually bent position to his chest. He was relieved to see that Raoul could move his fingers enough to weakly grip Hamid's shirt.

"I had just finished saying goodbye to Christine. She was going to go home with Mademoiselle Moreno." (It took Hamid a moment to remember he was referring to La Carlotta). "I was walking to the exit, and I heard something fall over. I thought someone might have been hurt."

Hamid continued to work on the stubborn tangle of ropes around his thighs. Oh, my darling, brave boy; too brave for your own good.

"I went into a storage room, I think it was. I saw a trapdoor in the floor. Before I knew what was happening, there was a rope around my neck. I knew it had to be Erik. I tried to fight him, I tried, but the rope just got tighter. I must have passed out."

Hamid could hear the memory of fear and pain in Raoul's voice. He paused in struggling with the ropes to kiss to his temple and rock his body comfortingly. Raoul's grip on his shirt tightened.

"When I came to, I was tied up like this. I couldn't move, I couldn't see. It was somewhere small and dark. I tried to yell, but nobody came. So, I just lay there."

"Oh, Raoul." It physically pained Hamid to think about Raoul cold, alone, afraid, and in pain, and Hamid unable to help him. He put the knife away and set to pulling free the loose ropes as fast as he could.

"It felt like it was hours, then I heard a door open. I knew it was him. He put a cloth over my face–ether. I woke up here. Oh, God, Hamid. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't stop him. I just lay there. Just helpless."

"Don't think like that," Hamid said, knowing his lover's mind perfectly. "Erik is an assassin, a trained killer. I've seen him murder men in single combat armed only with that cursed lasso of his. You don't need to think less of yourself, because you couldn't fight him off when he attacked you from behind like a coward."

The last of the ropes fell away from Raoul's legs. Hamid bundled the ropes up in his hand, then threw them as far away as he could, so Raoul hopefully couldn't even see them. He gathered him up in a loose, gentle embrace, knowing he wouldn't to feel too enclosed. He rocked him softly. "Delbar-am."

Shivering from head to toe, Raoul snuggled his cheek into Hamid's chest. "Hamid…"

"Shh. You're safe, you're safe, I promise. I love you."

"I love you."

For a while, they just sat there, Hamid gently rocking him, kissing his head, and murmuring comforting words. Eventually, Raoul started to shift a bit in his arms. He pulled back enough to look into Raoul's eyes. "Does anything hurt?" he asked, pushing hair off his forehead.

Raoul nodded and sniffled. "Where the ropes were is sore. My legs and arms are still stiff. But, I think I can walk."

"You don't have to push yourself."

"I'm okay." When Raoul pulled away, Hamid was relieved that it didn't seem to be out of discomfort or pain. "Philippe," he said, worry flickering in his wet eyes. "He doesn't know where I've been. Oh, God, he must be so worried."

Of course, Raoul would be more concerned about how his misfortune affected others. "It's alright," he assured him. "He contacted me last night, and I told him I thought you were with Christine."

"Oh, no." Raoul let his head fall back. "He'll never let me live that down. He'll be convinced we…" His nose wrinkled in distaste, and Hamid remembered Raoul telling him at one point that he saw Christine as his third sister. "No matter what I tell him."

"He loves you very, very much. I know that's what matters to him above all else."

Raoul nodded. He leaned up and kissed Hamid, slowly, deliberately, seemingly wanting to assure himself that the other man was there. "I'm sorry," he said in a small voice once he pulled away.

"No. You have nothing to be sorry for. None of this is your fault." He cupped Raoul's cheeks in his hands. "I love you, Raoul. My darling," he kissed his forehead, "sweet," temple, "brave," cheek, "kind boy." Lips. "Asheghetam."

"Asheghetam." Raoul kissed him back. When he pulled away, he took a deep breath. "Can you help me up?"

"Of course."

Hamid held onto his shoulders as Raoul struggled to his feet. He was clearly uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot and rubbing a stiff shoulder, but he was standing steadily enough. He took a few experimental steps. While he was definitely limping, he didn't stumble.

Hamid still didn't want to let go of him, though. "Do you want to go to my apartment or Philippe's first?"

"Yours."

"Alright. I'll have Darius send a message to your brother. And don't you go worrying about putting him out. We need to get some hot food into you right away, and I won't be satisfied until I see you eat."

A tired smile crossed Raoul's face. "Okay."

Hamid suddenly realized Raoul had to be freezing. He pulled off his coat, then wrapped it around Raoul's shoulders.

"You don't have to…"

"Hush." He guided his arms through the sleeves. Once he was bundled up in the oversized coat, Hamid put his hands on Raoul's waist and pulled him close. "Raoul, I promise that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.

Raoul nodded. "Me too." He went up on tiptoes to kiss Hamid.

For just a moment, Hamid could forget the danger all around then. As long as they were together, they would be safe.