Hello everyone! After a long break, I have finally decided to post a story that I have been working on for quite a while. I've had an idea for a R/M fic floating around for a while and I finally got around to posting it so here it is! I will warn that updates will be a little difficult for a few weeks because Jesus Christ Superstar does not end until March 18, and though the first four chapters and much of the story is finished, there are still a few gaps which need to be completed. So just hang with me for a little bit and I promise that things will get better.

Also, big thanks to my awesome beta reader Phanatic4Phantom who has been such a great help with this story!

disclaimer: I don't own POTO and any of the songs that are at the beginnings of chapters.

Collide

"Even the best fall down sometimes,

Even the wrong words seem to rhyme.

Out of the doubt that fills my mind,

I somehow find

You and I collide."

-Howie Day,"Collide"

1. Turn Away

The noose tightened considerably around Raoul de Chagney's neck as his fiancée, Christine Daaé, continued to delay the decision that kept his life on the line. He threw her one last glance, ready to give his life for her rather than see it thrown away to the monster that held the rope of life and death.

Something flickered in Christine's eyes. She slowly made her way to the Phantom and every move made Raoul even more anxious. He watched helplessly as his beloved pressed her blessed lips to that of a man who he had been fighting against for six months. It was a sight that burned, yet completely froze him to the spot so that Raoul could not even move. He continued to watch with raging jealousy, trying to remind himself that it was only an act to save his life.

But something was terribly wrong. Just when the monster had released her lips, Christine returned to his and Raoul felt his heart give a painful pang. There was a look in her eyes, a look that had once been reserved for him alone that she now wore as she gazed upon that horrid face.

"Go, forget me, forget all of this," the Phantom growled, turning away.

Hope had rekindled itself as Christine returned to Raoul and released him from the ropes. Immediately, her lover pulled her into an embrace, but when he pulled away, Raoul saw a distant look in her eye that chilled him.

"Come on Christine, we're free! Let's go!"

But Christine slowly began to back away with a sad, pitiful look on her face.

"Christine?"

She shook her head. "I belong with him," she said in a low voice. "I'm sorry Raoul."

Everything within him and around him became terribly still when those bitter words reached his ears. Raoul simply stood their motionless, too numb to even cry out in protest. Only when Christine had returned to her "angel" and disappeared with him into a dark tunnel did the young Vicomte actually regain movement.

"CHRISTINE!" he cried frantically in one last attempt to reach her. His desperate voice echoed throughout the cavern, but she was gone. He had lost her with that damned kiss.

Numb to everything around him, Raoul sloshed back through the murky water, not noticing how cold the water was, nor that the wound on his arm had reopened and was soaking his sleeve with blood, nor that he was terribly weak. He only continued to trudge on, disconnected from his surroundings and himself.

At last, Raoul found the surface, away from the pits of hell, yet the journey had weakened him greatly. His legs began to shake violently, threatening to give out beneath him. He leaned against the alley wall, trying to steady himself, but the poor boy was so weak that he was even fighting to stand. His entire body had begun to tremble and was getting considerably warmer. Raoul sat down against the wall, trying to stay conscious while drifting into a hazy world threatening to disappear to blackness.

As if were a godsend, a seraph from heaven descended upon him, but as she got closer, his sight got blurrier.

"Monsieur le Vicomte!" it cried, helping him to his feel. He blindly followed her in a feverish trance to what seemed to be the ends of the world until he collapsed into rest.

In disgust, Meg Giry retreated from the Phantom's lair, unable to watch as her companions and piers looted it. True, he had done a lot of damage, but Meg did not believe that one wrong after another solved anything. She had managed to save his mask and one last score of Don Juan before she left. Such treasures had to be saved, no matter whom they belonged to. One way or another, the young dancer managed to find a way out and watched as the roof of the opera house was enveloped in flames.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed her shoulder and she spun around.

"Maman!"

"Oh thank God I found you. Come Meg, I found a place for us to stay."

Meg followed her mother thought the crowd of passersby and pedestrians that watched the demise of the Opera House. They turned a corner and Meg noticed a person sitting on the street. Her mother had always instructed her to ignore beggars, but she was almost certain that the man had the face of someone she knew all too well. With curiosity, she approached the weary figure.

"Meg, come along, we have no time for this," her mother reprimanded.

But still Meg ignored her and kept her eyes on the person. He looked up at her and immediately Meg recognized his kind, gray eyes, gentle, boyish face, and sweeping, brown hair.

"Monsieur le Vicomte!" she gasped. Meg knelt down next to him and took his hand, shocked by how clammy it was. She raised a hand to his forehead, finding that he was alarmingly feverish. Mme. Giry came to her daughter's side, surprised to see that it was indeed the Vicomte.

"Maman, he's sick with a fever."

"Help him to his feet. We'll have to take him with us," she instructed.

With all of her strength, Meg pulled the dazed boy to his feet. She could see his legs wobbling, but she let him lean on her and they managed to walk a few blocks to the inn that Madame Giry had found. Two rooms connected to each other were secured and the reached the room just in time for the little strength that remained in Raoul to give out and he collapsed onto the bed, shivering. Meg quickly started a fire as her mother tucked him in. A ragged cough suddenly caught the older Giry's throat, startling Meg a bit.

"You should rest," Meg said, handing her mother a glass of water. "I'll watch him."

Madame Giry's eyes flickered with uncertainty for a moment.

"Oh please maman, I can take care of it. You can trust me."

Her mother flashed a knowing look. "If you need me, I'll be in the next room."

'Well then,' Meg thought to herself, 'this is certainly an interesting situation.' Never had she ever thought that she would actually have a chance to be alone with Raoul de Chagney. A whimper from the exhausted boy immediately drew her to his side and she sighed as his face contorted into a look of discomfort. Though the thought made her blush, she was well aware that she needed to get rid of his soaked shirt before she did anything else. It was for his own good, so no harm would be done then right? With crimson cheeks, Meg carefully removed his dirty, wet shirt.

'Oh he is so handsome.' Her face became almost as warm as his as she pulled it away, revealing his smooth, toned chest. It was the first time she had ever seen a man shirtless, and to be in such a position with this man of all people was very embarrassing, especially considering how many time she had thought of such a situation. She was incredibly grateful her mother was not here to see her in such a state. So often in Meg's hopeless and fruitless dreams had he kissed her passionately, sweeping her off her feet and carrying her off to some secret and private place where their souls and body had combined as one while he whispered sweet words of love in her ear. They made wonderful daydreams, yet she knew that she should not dwell on such impure and hopeless thoughts and this situation was doing nothing to drive them away. But there would be other times to think of that. Right now, there was a patient to tend to.

With a cool cloth and flushed cheeks, Meg wiped away some of the sweat on grime on Raoul's chest, hoping that it did something to soothe his burning fever before bandaging the cut on his arm. With a mother's and lover's affection, she pulled the covers over him and went to the bathroom to wash out the cloth and fill a small bowl with cold water. Tenderly, Meg placed the cool washcloth on his forehead and his features softened, but she couldn't help but notice that his breath was still ragged and his lips were parched. She squeezed a few drops into his mouth and at last Raoul seemed to sleep soundly.

Hours continued to pass as Meg remained by Raoul's side, never taking her eyes off of his face and making sure that he was as comfortable as possible. As she kept her faithful vigil, her thoughts returned to the first time she met him. Raoul had captivated Meg the moment she first saw him. His kind, honest, gray eyes and boyish grin had immediately caught her heart's attention. Her heart had soared in that moment, but plummeted just as fast when Christine mentioned the past that her and the Vicomte had shared. Unwilling to break their sister-like bond, Meg simply stood aside, seething in jealousy and longing as every kiss and embrace that the two lovers shared shot through her.

But now… now Christine was gone. Raoul was all by himself. Could she even dare to hope that maybe, just maybe, Raoul might kiss her as tenderly and sweetly as he had Christine?

'Oh Meg, you're hopeless. Stop thinking such foolish thoughts,' she chided. Reason was right. Though Christine was not physically there, it would be a long time before her lover would be able to overcome her spirit. Not only that, there was still the fact remaining that they were from two different worlds in society. Nobles did not associate with ballet rats, with the exception of physical demands. Even though Raoul had tried to bridge the divide before, he would have surely learned to stick to his own class after this catastrophe. But there was one thing about him that Meg knew no one could take away. No one could ever steal tonight from her. As long as she lived, she could always remember the night when she had cared for her beloved and she could add it to her collection of dreams and remember this night whenever she wanted to.

The hour was growing terribly late and it was getting harder and harder for Meg to stay awake. Carefully she laid her head on Raoul's chest, contently listening to his steady heartbeat. Taking his hand in hers, Meg's eyes finally shut and she gave into sleep at last.

Love it? Hate it? Please let me know. I'll try to update once a week. Though it will be difficult at first, a majority of the later chapters are all done, so once I get through this small bit of writer's block, things should get better.

-Rachel

rk, 2001.