Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I do not own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul series of vignettes (not slash, but yeah)

Warning(s): yeah, I really should take out the warnings because there isn't any.

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul (well, not really, but in my mind there's the connection)

A/N: Chapter 08 of 10.

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A Mask for All Occasions

Saviour

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By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

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She had given him this role. Not so much given as she had forced him into it.

He placed most of the blame on himself though. He cursed his inability to tear away from the roles. In fact, he hated the fact that he had taken the role so willingly. So happily. So frustratingly blindly.

She merely had to act her own role and he was swept up into the moment. Only with her did he have such little disregard for the freedom he had been working so hard towards.

He was swept up into believing, believing she was the only one.

In his own mind, he was no saviour. He was too scared. He was too selfish. And it took much more effort to be a saviour than he was willing to put into it, than he was able to put into it – drained as he was playing all his other roles.

If he were truly honest with himself, he would not be able to save her from a phantom, the Phantom. He would not be able to save her from a man that had already taken her right in front of him. He was realistic, but still he would try.

In all truths, he did consider himself to be a gentleman but he couldn't help the fact that he liked some of the attention he received from his roles. He had been brought up with all the etiquette lessons that were available. He knew the right words to say and the right actions to perform. He tried to stay within the bounds of proper behavior, but when he feels so trapped and contained, what else could Raoul do? He knew he was rather unruly at times, but he did not see the point of going anywhere without adding some excitement to the journey. He was a Vicomte. His little quirks were often expected in order to fit into the perception of the rich having their eccentricities. It was a role that got him attention. Everyone has their limits though. He found that he didn't mind saving people. He didn't mind playing the hero sometimes because he felt as though he could accomplish real good in the world by doing so.

Maybe he just wanted to actually be somebody. Hero complex, maybe that's what he had. He knew that she wanted his help. He knew that she was frightened and worried about what may befall her. But were all her worries justified? He wanted to save her, but save her from what exactly? Or more precisely from whom?

Christine had been living a perfectly acceptable life. She hadn't been complaining. Furthermore, the Phantom had only started to actively terrorize the opera house after Raoul and the new managers had appeared. The Phantom had merely acted out when they had shown their lack of respect.

Raoul couldn't help but suspect that the man was also playing roles. He had heard stories of why the Opera Ghost had turned out to be the person he was. He could empathize. Given different circumstances, Raoul felt as though maybe they would have understood each other all too well. He understood his shortcomings in truly empathizing with a man who had a physical deformity and the stigma placed on him by society, but he could understand the necessity of having to hide. The Phantom was merely staking his claim in the Opera Populaire. He meant no harm to Christine. Why else would Christine have been returned completely unharmed and emotionally unscarred (besides her initial fright)? Moreover, Christine had only been in danger after he had shown and stated his affections.

Maybe he would have to save her from himself. That, he knew he could accomplish. He knew how to make himself scarce. It had been a reflex in a society whose prying eyes were everywhere. He had learnt to hide not only his true thoughts and emotions, but he could physically hide from the majority of society. He could be discrete and unobtrusive, but his family would often pull him back into the light. Pull him into the harsh and unforgiving light of society that made him feel naked without his roles.

But in this respect, Raoul was certain his family would allow him to escape from Christine. They did not approve, and he was losing his will to fight for her. He had wanted that recognition. He had wanted that freedom, but he was not certain he would find it through Christine.

He often worried that she was already lost to him and he was grasping nothing but a shimmering illusion of her of his own making.

Sometimes he would look at her and not recognize her at all. Those moments made him despair, a sinking feeling in his chest that made going on feel impossibly. What was worse was the fact that those moments were becoming increasingly common. It felt as though she was the true phantom.

Now, he realized all too clearly, instead of providing him that haven from society, she had simply given him another role to play, another person to be besides himself.

This only reinforced the fact that Raoul had been wrong. He felt as though he could do no right.

Raoul had been wrong. Christine would never be able to see him. She might one day see beyond his title, but she could not see past the role fate had taught him to play. She couldn't see past the clothes, the money, and the duties that pressed upon him. She couldn't see that salvation was close at hand if only someone would help him reach it. She didn't want to see it.

She would never be his freedom no matter how much of the past she could remember. No matter how much of the present she could distract him. No matter how much of the future she planned.

He was almost willing to let her keep playing her game or force her away. These games were painful.

The Phantom though a ghost looked to have her best intentions in mind and he knew she felt drawn to him. She felt for him. Raoul couldn't deny it.

He was, however, torn on what to think about Erik. The ghost couldn't control himself. He was drowning in his own life from the consequences of his actions.

Was the ghost worthy enough to be his victor?

Whatever occurred though, he was certain that she would never be enough.

Suddenly, the choice stopped being so obvious. Maybe between the choice between her, who had seen him at least once, and no one, he would choose no one. At least he would not have to act more roles in the presence of no one.

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word count: 1122

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A/N: Do not forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Well, 3rd to the last chapter. I'm typing in a library and it's so freaking cold my fingers are numb and I've been making so many typos that it's getting annoying. I hope you like these chapters… as they are the last ones. Thanks for the reviews again!

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