Holy crap, thank you for the awesome reviews you guys!! Happy dance I promise it'll get exciting soon. Promise. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I'll try to write another one in a few days, I just have so much uni work to do...But don't worry, the chapters will still keep coming.

Chapter Twenty-One.

Raoul sighed wearily after he replayed the scenario to Fletcher, who sat beside him resignedly. Raoul sat up and thanked Fletcher quietly when he handed him a cigarette and lit it.

"That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard," Fletcher lit his own cigarette and puffed on it, "I doubt she would really go through with it…"

"After pushing so hard for the death penalty for her youngest brother, I wouldn't be so flippant on saying what she would and wouldn't do," Raoul replied.

"Bloody waste of money…" Fletcher muttered under his breath, "Believe me, when the court case is won, I will make sure she reimburses everything she made you waste in law costs," he suddenly choked on the smoke he inhaled, ashamed at what he had just said, "Don't worry though Raoul, after the appeal, she won't be able to with you alive,"

Raoul made a non-committal sound, but chose not to reply. He suddenly chuckled, and Fletcher turned to him, eyebrow raised, "What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing…" Raoul took another drag, but laughed again, holding his head back.

"Please tell me you haven't gone mad," Fletcher said uneasily.

"No, I would have used that as an excuse if I was," Raoul replied.

"That's what I was telling Ansel you should have used," Fletcher commented.

"Ah," Raoul nodded, then continued, "I just had an amusing thought – here I am sitting here with you, smoking on a fine cigarette, about to ask you if you would like some cake my sister has baked me, as calm as you please, and this morning I was just sentenced to death,"

"Isn't life surreal…?" Fletcher muttered, "But a thought – you may not want to eat the cake, it may be laced with poison,"

"No…" Raoul shook his head, "Cherilyn baked it, not Audra. And anyway, she wouldn't risk not having the pleasure of seeing me be dropped from the gallows,"

Fletcher fidgeted uncomfortably, "Anyway, I do not want to speak of such things. I will go to the courthouse after here and apply for an appeal. Then I would like to bring Christine to see you – you do realise now though, Laurence will have to come see you?"

Raoul closed his eyes as that line of thought pained him, "I suppose,"

"And another thing…" Fletcher said awkwardly, "I couldn't stop a certain man from coming to see her today…"

"The Phantom?" Raoul asked, and surprised Fletcher nodded. Raoul shrugged, "He will come see me too I suppose,"

"I can have him arrested –" Fletcher began.

"No!" Raoul said firmly, then lowered his voice, "It would...Christine...No, Fletcher, please do nothing of the sort,"

Fletcher grunted in reply and the two men sat in silence for a few minutes longer.

"Thank you for coming," Raoul murmured after awhile, "When I sent you the letter asking for your assistance,"

"Pray tell me," Fletcher said slyly, "What else was I supposed to do?"

"Well, I wasn't sure you would…After chasing me off your property with your pistol those years ago, I didn't know for certain you had forgiven me," Raoul answered.

Fletcher laughed at this, "My sister beat me senseless after interrupting your little rendezvous,"

Raoul joined in Fletcher's mirth, "How is your sister anyway, Fletcher? Is she happy with her husband? The doctor, isn't he?"

Fletcher nodded, "Corry is doing well, she's besotted with the twins…A few months old they are now. Pierre's a good man, for some strange reason Ansel seems to loathe him though,"

"I heard Pierre's sister has moved in with them now that she is a widow?" Raoul asked.

"Yes," Fletcher nodded, "Poor girl never had any children of her own with the man. She is quite alone. She wears black all the time…It is most unsettling,"

Raoul said nothing for a moment, not trusting himself to speak as melancholy seeped through him, "My wife is too young to be a widow…"

"She won't be," Fletcher said adamantly.

But Raoul ignored him as he continued, "Atleast she will have Laurence…The little fellow looks like me…He'll be a reminder…" Raoul's voice cracked and he covered his mouth with his hand as he trembled slightly with sorrow, "I was going to take him sailing…My Father was always away, but I swore I would take them with me everywhere. I've always taken them on every trip so far…"

Fletcher chewed his lip and sighed, taking hold of Raoul he pulled him close and his friend leaned against him as he shuddered with sobs, "I was too happy with Christine and my little boy, that's what it is," Raoul said in between sobs, "After everything – it – it was not right for us to be so happy,"

"Now you're just talking nonsense," Fletcher reprimanded Raoul, but his voice misted with his repressed tears, and he coughed to clear his throat, resorting back to murmuring words of comfort.

Raoul pulled back embarrassed after a few minutes, scrubbing the tears away ashamed. He lowered his gaze, "Atleast I should be thankful that she will be protected,"

"You have my word on that," Fletcher said firmly.

Raoul looked up confused, "What?...Oh," he nodded slowly, "Of course, I am indebted to you. You have done far too much as it is,"

But he turned away suddenly thoughtful, and Fletcher watched him carefully, as the sorrow he was showing moments earlier changed to realisation and determination.

"A widow…She will be a widow…" Raoul was murmuring to himself, and stood, pacing the small cell slowly but determined.

There was a heavy banging on the door, and a guard barked out, "Dumas, one more minute,"

Fletcher leaned forward, not bothering to reply to the guard, "What on earth are you thinking about Raoul?"

Raoul folded his arms and turned to Fletcher, "I am not a hundred percent sure…But could you please do me a small favour?"

"Of course,"

"When you return to Christine and see the Phantom, could you please ask him to bring me some ink, a quill and manuscript paper when he comes to me? Christine will know where my wax seal is, ask him to bring that too please…And please tell him that blue or black ink will be more sufficient than crimson," Raoul covered his mouth with his hand thoughtfully, which muffled the next words, "She will be protected…"

"What…Why…What do you need to see him for? I can bring those things myself," Fletcher asked, utterly perplexed, "And what are you going to write?"

"I need to see the man Fletcher," Raoul answered slowly, "And as for what I am going to write – well, a new will of course,"