Author's note: First of all. The characters (all two of them) do not belong to me. Etc, etc, etc. Second of all. This is an Erik/Raoul fic. Yes. Erik/Raoul. If you don't like the pairing, don't read the fic. Simple as that.
Prelude: Erik and Raoul are deeply in love with one another. That's all you need to know.
Light filtered through the window. It was encrusted in the dirt and dust of ages past, untouched for what seemed like decades. Untouched. Undisturbed.
A scream echoed through the hallways. A trail of dust fell from the glass.
Footsteps. Echoing voices. A girl sobbing.
The daylight seemed to dim. The darkness surrounded them. Fear. Fear turning to hate. To loathing. And soon, to bravery. Too soon, perhaps.
A figure running through the halls. Reaching an expanding pool of blood. A gasp. A masked figure, chest stained with red. A cry. Desperation.
The figure, leaning down, picking up the masked man. Fear. Wonder.
The figure, exiting the hallways. Exiting his life as he knew it. Hope.
Raoul lay the injured body of Erik down on the bed. The blood stained the sheets, but they didn't matter. Sheets could be replaced. He could not be. The makeshift bandages were falling off. 'No… no… there has to be a way… any way…' Erik's breathing became irregular, a bit of blood spilling from his mouth. Raoul wiped it away, nearly in tears. 'No… no…'
He found some bandages, and antiseptic. Erik was dying. Erik would die, if Raoul did not take care of him. He sighed, taking a deep breath. This was no time for panic… no time… no…
Pain. Pain in one. Giving pain to the other.
He struggled, to live. To exist.
He struggled, to keep him alive.
Sorrow flowing into one. Forming passion. Forming hope.
Hope keeping both alive.
Raoul kneeled next to the bed. Erik's steady breathing calming him. His chest was bandaged, though blood still stained the cloth. At least he was breathing, at least he was alive. He did not want to loose his Erik. His life. His everything.
He loved Erik. He had known that before. But he did not know what it truly meant to depend on someone. The attack on Erik had left him in fear. He had destroyed his reputation by taking Erik with him. But what did it matter. He was here. He could still live. He had to live.
Raoul sighed, looking at Erik's steadily rising and falling chest. At least he had stopped coughing up blood. Erik lay there, unconscious. Sleeping.
Light. Love. Emotion, flowing through him. Embracing him. Torturing him.
Where was he?
A glass window. Shattered. Fragments scattered everywhere.
Light, reflecting, refracting. Dazzling.
Change.
Dust. Settling on the fragments.
Light. Fading.
Raoul cried softly. It had been over a week. Erik was still unconscious. Breathing, but unconscious. He was afraid Erik might not make it. He had to… he was his life… his everything…
He sat next to Erik, looking at his face. Eyes closed, a troubled expression. It was as if… as if he was just waiting for him… worrying about him… caring about him… as always…
Tears rolled down Raoul's face. 'They were right… you never appreciate what you have… until you… you… loose it…'
A meadow. Flowers. Light.
Heaven?
No. Too cliché.
A smile. Still cynical.
Still there.
Still… human.
A sigh. Sadness.
A loss. A longing.
Raoul.
Erik sighed. Opening his eyes, weakly. "…R…ra…raoul…" Raoul jumped up.
"Erik!" He took his hand, looking deeply into his eyes with a tear streaked face. "Erik… how are you…" He smiled lightly, realizing how stupid that question was. Realizing that Erik was there. Erik was alive.
"D…dead…thank you… Where… am I?"
"You're with me, at my mansion. You're safe, don't worry."
"I'm not… worried… I…"
"Yes…?"
"I am… starving…"
He smiled. "Let me get you something…"
Glass fragments. Swept away..
A window.
Clean. Transparent.
Blue sky.