I awoke to the sound of a scream from across the hall, followed by desperate sobbing. I grabbed my dressing gown and threw it on, heading to Christine's room across the hall. It was mere days before our wedding. Jacques, my butler, appeared by the door with a candle, which I gratefully took before heading into the guest room. I opened the door to find Christine sitting straight up, arms wrapped around her petite legs, rocking back and forth, hardly able to breathe for crying. I rushed to her side, placing the candle on her bedside table before sitting down next to her.
"Christine, sweetheart, what's the matter? Are you alright?" I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.
She leaned into me, moving as close as humanly possible. "I had another nightmare, but it was worse than all the others..." Her voice broke and I held her closer, her thin frame trembling. She'd been prone to these nightmares ever since that fateful night in the lair, indeed she'd had them since her father's death. but she'd never reacted quite so violently. Her forehead was covered in perspiration.
"Shh," I whispered, gathering her whole form into my arms. "It's all right. I'm here. It was just a dream."
"You were dead!" she exclaimed, crying into my chest, tears spilling over onto my skin. "You hung from the portcullis, not breathing, and there was nothing, NOTHING I could do to stop Erik from killing you! You were murdered right in front of my eyes! I can't bear to lose you, Raoul, I just can't! I would die."
"I promise, love, nothing will happen to me. I'm here. I'll never leave you, my sweet darling." My heart broke at how heartwrenching her sobs were. I held her for several minutes, trying desperatley to reassure her of my presence. Holding her like this always made me realize how small she was, how delicate. And yet, so incredibly brave.
After a few moments she managed to catch her breath, and pulled back to look at me. She pulled my dressing gown away from my neck slightly, revealing the purple bruises on my neck that were slowly starting to fade. Some of those scars however, would not ever fade entirely. She touched my neck with her tiny hand, running carefully across all the bruises.
"These are the reminders of the fact that you were willing to die for me, Raoul," she said, looking into my eyes. "Reminders of how I almost lost you forever. But I couldn't let you die, Raoul. I know you begged me to let you, but I just couldn't bear it! My very soul would have perished.. And that dream..."
"I know," I said, running one hand across her cheek in comfort, and twirling one of her curls with the other, the memories of that night coming in flashes, my psyche screaming against the horror of it all. I could only imagine what it must have been like for Christine to have relived it vividly, albeit with a different ending. I'd had my own nightmares, but none as violent as hers, it seemed."But remember, my love, it turned out all right in the end. I'm here for you, and will be as long as there is breath in me."
She looked in my eyes, giving me a small smile. She looked down again, but put her hand on top of mine. There was obviously something on her mind, but I let silence envelop us for a few moments, letting her tell me when she was ready.
"I so often try to understand him," she said, her thumb running circles over the skin of my hand. "Sometimes, I think I do. But sometimes...I can't. He's been through such trauma, treated so cruelly."
There was no need for her to name Erik. I knew who she spoke of. I nodded at her, urging her to go on.
"I did care for him..."
Despite myself, my heart gave a painful twinge.
"But as my teacher. I know he loved me, but I only wish he could have just continued being my teacher, instead of trying to force me to love him the way I love you. There were so many times when he frightened me beyond belief."
My heart breathed again.
"I'm so often hurt and angry about all the things he did...telling me he was my Angel of Music sent by my father, the murders, destroying the opera, for trying to kill you, for trying to force me stay with him. It all haunts me." She stopped for a moment, overcome. I stroked her cheek, trying to encourage her to keep talking. I knew she needed to divulge all of this.
"He killed for me, Raoul, but you were willing to DIE for me to ensure my happiness! There is no greater sacrifice. When we were down in that lair, and you were gasping for air and telling me to go free, all I could see was the young boy I so loved jumping into the ocean for my red scarf, unceasingly brave."
"You were brave too, Christine," I added, needing her to realize that. "The sacrifice you were willing to make was perhaps even greater."
"But even still," she continued, "I feel compassion for him. His crimes aren't excused, but no one deserves to be treated the way he was. No one. And I hope he finds happiness, somehow. Raoul, do you think he could still be alive? It wouldn't be right for him to die by the hand of a mob."
"He is a rather impressive escape artist," I answered. "Meg did say they found no one in the lair. So it's highly possible."
I looked at Christine, feeling inexplicably grateful that she was here with me. Despite all that Erik had put us through, despite my anger and the trauma we'd faced, I would never forget his moment of compassion, for letting Christine and I leave together in the end, as though, perhaps, even if he couldn't escape his darkness, he'd allowed Christine to escape the darkness that had enveloped her since her father died.
"Raoul?" whispered Christine, sounding like she had when she was a young girl.
"Yes, Little Lotte?"
"I know it's not proper to stay in the same room until we're married, but could you possibly stay here with me tonight? I can't bear to be parted from you. If I have another nightmare I want to wake up and see your face."
She blushed, and although she might not have been able to see it in the dark, I did too. A fervent Catholic and hoping to always be a gentleman, I had pledged to wait until my wedding night to share particular intimacies with my fiance, difficult as it sometimes might have been. Christine too, had made the same pledge. Most men my age would have laughed off such a thing, but I'd never felt the need to follow the crowd. But damn any of the gossip, sleeping in the same bed with her before said night would do no harm; she was terrified, and I desperately wanted to comfort her. Not that I would ignore the simple pleasure of being able to hold her while she slept.
"Of course," I said, pulling the covers up and over the both of us. "Anything you to make you feel safe."
I reached out my arms to her, beckoning her forward, and she moved into them, nuzzling her head against my chest as I smoothed her hair.
"Raoul?" she questioned again.
"Yes Christine?"
"Do you know how much I love you?"
I chuckled. "Not as much as I love you."
"Oh goodness," she said, sighing good naturedly. "This argument again. Can you let me continue please?"
"Of course madmoiselle," I said teasingly. "Go on."
"I just wanted you to know, that it's always been you, from that moment I kissed your cheek after you saved my scarf. It was always you I loved, even after we were parted. I still have some of those first letters you sent me. You spark a passion in me that even music cannot match. I wanted you to know that."
I felt my face split into a grin and leaned in to kiss her, a spinetingling passion running through my veins.
"What a profession!" I said. "I don't know if I can match your eloquence, but I shall try. I too, loved you from that moment, and had Phillipe allowed me to follow you to the opera, I would have. He had to hold me by my shirt to stop me from running after your departing carriage."
"You were always a tad headstrong," Christine cut in, laughing.
"Yes," I agreed. "I never forgot you, and when I saw you at the opera, I could hardly believe it. And when I found out you felt the same that night on the rooftop, I didn't sleep at all that night for my happiness. I shall confess something to you."
"What's that?"
"Despite all the girls that various relatives urged me to court, and the painful dinners I was forced to sit through, I never kissed a woman until that night with you. Because I could never think of kissing anyone but you."
"You told me of all the women your family put under your nose, and you never were tempted?" replied Christine, smiling. "You seemed rather an experienced kisser to me."
"It was only because I loved you so," I said. "I needed to make it count."
With that, she kissed my cheek, and hugged me tighter. I noticed however, that she was yawning.
"Go to sleep now, Little Lotte, and dream of our time by the sea. And if more nightmares plague you, I'm here."
She nodded, and I watched as her eyelids fluttered down before allowing my own to do the same.
A/N: I know, I know SHAMELESS R/C fluff. :) Erik will make an appearance in the next one-shot. Are you excited?