"Please, Raoul stop it!" Christine cried. Seconds later, the back of his hand made contact with her cheek, the impact of his knuckles against her cheekbone causing her skin to split, a dribble of blood trailing down her lightly flushed skin. She staggered backward, slowly raising her hand to touch her cheek. She cried out when she felt the blood, her eyes searching Raoul's for any hint of regret. All she was met with was a look of mixed rage and betrayal.
"You little tart, did you think I wouldn't find out about you sneaking around with him?" he hissed, raising his hand to her again. Christine flinched, looking down and away from him. This enraged Raoul, the fact that she wouldn't even look him in the eye told him all he thought he needed to know.
He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her closer to him, making her cry out in pain as she stumbled forward. "Raoul, please! I- I haven't done anything, I haven't seen him since before the chandelier fell! You have to believe- ah!" Her words were cut short as he threw her against the wall and watched as she crumpled to the floor, cowering from him and trying to cover her head.
Erik had heard the viscomte's yelling, had heard things crashing as they were thrown around Christine's dressing room, and he had made haste to her mirror to check on her. What he saw when he reached the mirror made his heart stop and his blood boil.
The Viscomte de Chagny stood with his back to the mirror, and from what Erik could see, there was a frightened girl between him and the wall. It took Erik a moment to recognize Christine, though it was her dressing room. The fear in her eyes was that which he had never seen before.
Rage boiled just beneath the Phantom's skin, and as Raoul reached down and yanked Christine back to her feet by her hair, Erik opened the mirror. "You would dare harm someone smaller than you, monsieur le viscomte?" he hissed. The fear and pain in Christine's eyes was torture for him to see. "Let her go."
"You," Raoul said, whipping around to face him. His hand still firmly gripped the girl's hair, and she was pulled around quite painfully as he moved. "I might've expected as much. Here, take your whore." The viscomte shoved Christine forward, letting go of her hair and allowing her to fall to the floor at the Phantom's feet. Christine sobbed, covering her head with her arms, pressing her forehead and nose to the floor.
Erik balled his hands into fists, his entire body tensing up as he watched her fall, too quickly for him to catch her. She looked so small, so helpless. He could hear his pulse thundering in his ears as his vision went white, then red. He carefully stepped past Christine, making certain not to touch her or frighten her as he did.
Raoul raised his hands to defend himself, but Erik's hands were around the man's throat before he could properly react. Erik continued walking until he had slammed the other man against the wall, causing him to cry out in pain. Erik tightened his grip around Raoul's throat, digging his fingernails into the man's skin. "One thing a man mustn't do," he hissed as the viscomte flailed and clawed at his arms, "is cause harm to a woman. Especially a woman who has done nothing to wrong anyone."
The younger man clawed and thrashed, but Erik's grip held. It was only as his vision began to darken that he realized what he could do to shift the Phantom's attention and possibly free himself. Raoul reached out, his hand shaking, and his fingertips grazed the edge of the mask the other man wore.
Erik jerked his head back and away from the viscomte's outstretched hand, and he slammed the man against the wall, forcing out what little breath the man still held in a pained squeak. He slammed the man against the wall again, and this time he allowed him to fall gasping and wheezing to the floor. "Are you in pain?" Erik asked. His voice held little emotion, only a slight hint of what could've been joy but also could've been pain tinted his words. "Do you feel small? Helpless?"
The viscomte glared up at him, and Erik smirked as he kicked the man in the chest, knocking him backward before he sprawled across the floor with a grunt. This caused a mild cry of panic from Christine, who was still on the floor just behind Erik.
He turned to glance back at her, and found that she was staring, in horror, at the viscomte. He felt a minor wave of relief wash over him as he realized that her fear wasn't caused by him. He turned his attention back to the young man, kicking him in the ribs, kicking him hard enough that he heard a loud crack coupled with a cry of pain.
Erik then knelt beside Christine. "Are you hurt?" he asked, very gently placing his hand on her arm. As she pulled away, so did he. She looked up into his face, her eyes wide and full of fear. She said nothing. "Your angel will not hurt you," Erik said, trying to sound soothing. "I only want to ensure that he," Erik nodded in Raoul's direction, "will never hurt you again."
Christine hesitated, glancing over at Raoul, who was still groaning and clutching at his side, but slowly stretched her hand out to Erik, who took it in his own. He held her hand so gently that anyone who hadn't witnessed him nearly choke the life from the viscomte just moments earlier wouldn't have believed he was capable of such an act. Christine was shaking as she sat up and threw her free arm around her angel's neck, burying her face in his shoulder as fresh sobs were ripped from her lungs.
Erik was taken aback by the way she wrapped herself around him, but he draped his arm across her back. "I've got you, you're all right," he whispered into her hair.