Sorry for the delay. A disconnected internet added with a lack of time and inspiration does not mix well. As you're reading this, please be aware that this chapter was very difficult to write, and I know it isn't my best. So, be gentle. Please. ::sniffles::
Going Back
The first thing I was aware of when I woke up was the wonderful smell. The scent wafted around me and I breathed deeply; it was the smell of baking bread, something that I hadn't had the pleasure of breathing in since...I don't remember. My stomach growled a bit, and it took some time before I was aware of my other surroundings. The next thing I noticed was that I was in a different bed. This bed was smaller than my old one, and the coverlet smelled different. I panicked and wrenched my eyes open, but closed them quickly and threw the blanket over my head with a loud gasp of pain. The bright, blinding light had seared my eyes.
"Close the curtains!" I heard someone hiss. "Quickly!"
A sound of swishing fabric filled the room for a few seconds, and then I felt someone sit on the edge of the mattress. They took my hand; the hand was large and very warm.
"Christine?"
The voice was so familiar...
"Christine, can you hear me?"
If only I could remember...
"It's Raoul, Christine."
Of course! I opened my eyes very slowly and saw his bright blue eyes looking concerned, peering into mine. He gave a shaky laugh and squeezed my hand.
"How...how are you?"
I could understand his slight hesitation. What do you say to someone who has been missing for four years? I gave a slight, noncommittal jerk of my head, which made it throb. I did not want to think, for fear of making my head ache, but I did. If I was with Raoul, that had to mean I was back in New York somewhere...and that would mean that Erik...
I sat up sharply, wincing as my body protested, but ignored it. "What's happening?" I asked in a hoarse whisper. Raoul looked slightly puzzled.
"You're home, Christine. You're back."
"When?" I whispered, horrified. Where was Erik? I had seen him! He looked at me – he hadn't been dying. My breath quickened and I grabbed the blankets, gripping them so hard my knuckles turned pale.
"Just a few days ago. You woke up a few times, but you obviously don't remember. You kept saying something about 'Erik.' Are you all right, Christine?"
I was having trouble breathing and I gasped, trying to get enough air to my lungs. It was then that I noticed that a small crowd of people were in the room. They stepped slightly closer, their faces still shadowed. They reminded me of faceless demons, and I began to shiver, pulling the blankets up around my chin and scooting back into the headboard.
"Please," I whispered to Raoul. "Make them go away. Please."
Most of the people shuffled out. Everyone except one unfamiliar face, who hovered over me. He was an older man, with a silvery mustache and thick eyebrows.
"How are you feeling right now?" he asked kindly. "Do you hurt anywhere?"
"My head," I whimpered slightly. All I wanted to know was where Erik was.
"And that's all, Miss Daae?"
I had not heard Daae in such a long time. It took a second for me to realize he was addressing me; the drug was still making my head swim slightly. And so I nodded, trying to placate the man so he would go away. Raoul gave the doctor a significant look; they stood and walked to a corner, then began muttering together. My eyes were begging for sleep, but now that I was conscious I could not until I knew what was happening with Erik. Raoul and the other man returned a short time later, both of them looking rather grave. The man cut Raoul off and stood by the bedside, while Raoul, looking a bit ruffled, had to be content with watching.
"Miss Daae, we need to know if you were...touched in any way."
My head was pounding...I wanted sleep...But I wanted Erik more. His question confused my tired brain; of course he touched me. He had to touch me to lead me to the car, to correct my posture when I sang...And he touched me...I shivered delightfully at the memory.
"Miss Daae?" the man probed.
"Who are you?" He had no business asking me these questions! They were personal, private, and I did not have to give them out to anyone!
"This," Raoul said quickly, "is Doctor Balhorn. He's here to help you, Christine."
I didn't care if he was a doctor or an astronaut. I was not going to tell anyone, ever, about my relationship with Erik. So I shook my head. They were not convinced. The two poked and prodded, asking me the same questions over and over. I began to become frustrated and tried to explain myself.
"I...well, I just...please, don't – I don't want..."
The doctor withdrew. "She's obviously distressed, and suffering from posttraumatic stress. She needs more sleep."
This statement went completely over my head, and I watched as Raoul nodded and closed the door. He sat down on the edge of the bed and once again took my hand. He brought it to his lips and looked at me, smiling warmly.
"You have no idea how glad I am that you're back and safe." Then, with slight hesitation, he bent over and kissed my forehead. I let out a dry sob, rolled over, and fell into a fitful doze. Erik swam in and out of my dreams, always beyond my reach. And yet I was perfectly fine; I had seen him. He wasn't dead, and he would come for me. This was just one of his silly tricks. At least I prayed...
----
The smell of baking bread had slightly disappeared when I woke up again. My head was refreshingly clear and I had full control over my body. The first thing I immediately desired was a bath, and I crawled out of bed, intent on walking over to my bathroom, but the door wasn't there. Stopping short, I looked around, slightly panicked. I then saw that I had been dressed in comfortable pajamas. But there was no familiar wardrobe, no couch in the corner, no comfortable armchair...just a large bed and a few wooden chairs. And in one of those chairs Raoul was sleeping, his head lolled onto one side and his mouth slightly open. My heart gave a slight flutter; sweet, dear, loving Raoul. He was an arm's reach away. As my hand slightly rose, he jerked awake and looked at me. I blushed slightly, wondering if it was he that had changed my clothes.
"You're awake!" he said, springing to his feet. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine," I lied. My aching desire to see Erik was rather painful. I expected Raoul to demand the truth, something Erik had always done, but he gave a smile and walked over to me.
"I'm sure you want a shower and a change of clothes," he continued, leading me out of the room and into a pretty, bright hallway. Down a few doors he stopped and showed me to a door on the right, saying that it was the bathroom. He gave me a squeeze, muttering, "It's so good to have you home," and then left.
When I walked into the room and locked the door, I wanted to cry. But I didn't. I stripped and bathed mechanically, put on some new clothes that had been laid out for me, brushed and styled my hair, and emerged, quiet and stone-faced. Unsure of where to go, I wandered up and down the hall, blinking at the harsh, bright sunlight that seemed to spill from every room. Part of me expected to see Erik waiting in a room, intent on bringing me home. But no one was on the upper level. This irked me and I went back to my room, angry at Erik for leaving me for so long.
"Erik?" I called out uncertainly, keeping a wary eye on the door. "Erik, I want to go home now."
It was silent. I said it a bit louder. "Erik, I want to go home!" Although I waited for several tense, long minutes, no sound was heard. The tears started afresh. The only reason Erik would not come to me…because he didn't take me as soon as I wished…he was dead. I crumpled once again and sobbed, and I feel the tears starting once again. Nothing seemed to matter anymore; if Erik had died I was sure that I would, too. He was now part of me; his music had touched me in ways I didn't know possible, and now his music was gone with him. I had never wanted to be somebody else so badly. I wanted to escape, to have everything disappear. A part of me had been simply ripped out with no preliminaries, and I felt myself sink into crushing depression, my eyes wide open and yet being unable to see anything except my blind pain.
Raoul found me curled up in the bed, willing myself to fall asleep, and yet I was unable.
"Christine?" he gently prodded, seeing my eyes wide open. "Christine, are you ready to talk?"
I sat up slowly and looked at him. "Talk?" I repeated slowly.
"Well...you see, Christine, your kidnapping wasn't exactly unnoticed, and then when you were returned the other day...the papers had a field day. The police are here, and the press...they're waiting for you."
I paled; there was no possible way that I could tell the whole world what happened in the House over the last four years. My mouth became dry, and I begged, "Do I have to see them?"
"Well, I suppose you don't have to talk to the press...but you really should talk to the police."
I knew that I would eventually have to talk to the police; they would want to find out who kidnapped me. A humorless smile grew on my lips; Erik would not be found unless he wanted to...and Erik was dead. I refused to see the press, and Raoul shooed them out, though they hung around the front door, their cameras and pens ready. The interview with the police was horrible.
"And you never saw the house you were kept in?"
"No."
"You have no idea where it was?"
Before I could answer another policeman entered. He glanced nervously at Raoul and me before bending down to whisper something into the interviewer's ear. My stomach clenched slightly; this was very familiar, the way the man's face blanched and he stood jerkily.
"Thank you for your time, Miss Daae. I apologize for the inconvenience." The man glanced around anxiously and gathered his belongings.
Raoul's comforting hand on my shoulder clenched tightly. "Excuse me?"
The policemen looked at him. "Well – there was a...murder. Uptown. Got to go. Urgent. Thanks, folks."
"That's all?" Raoul countered quietly; I could tell he was trying to be polite, but the frustration was evident in his voice.
The men quickly left the house, shepherded by the eager press, their voices mingling and the cameras flashing. Raoul gave an exclamation of disgust.
"The officials in this city!" He looked down at me, his nostrils flared. "I'm so sorry, Christine. I'll have a word with someone and they'll come back for a full interview."
"It's fine, Raoul," I said quietly, closing my eyes. "I don't have anything more important to say to them."
"All the same, I'd feel much better knowing that they know everything you do." He sat down beside me and took my hand. I swallowed and forced myself to look back into his blue eyes, and it was one of the greatest struggles in my life not to simply burst into agonized sobs. To try to distract myself, I asked stupidly:
"When – when I came back...how...?"
Without another word, Raoul stood and walked over to the television. After rummaging in the cabinets for a few seconds he pulled out a disc and pushed it into the player.
"My brother recorded it for me," he explained. "I was there, watching for you. It was amazing to see you again." He settled by me as the tape came into play. I watched with a fascinated horror.
The cameramen were obviously having trouble getting through the mass of people. Civilians and officials alike were strewn up and down the sidewalk next to my shabby old apartment building. A man's voice came through.
"Again, repeated for those who have just joined us. It appears that Christine Daae, missing for four years, has been found, unconscious, in her old apartment. Officials have neither confirmed nor denied anything pertaining to the case, though our crew is anxiously standing by for any sign of Daae."
There was a small roar and the people moved closer, crowding around the doorway, while a strong male's voice rang through the air. "Make way! Come on, clear off! Let me through!"
The people backed up enough for the cameras to get a decent shot, and my stomach flipped as I saw myself being carried down the steps to a nearby ambulance. I looked dreadful; dark circles were under my eyes and I had never seen myself so disgustingly thin. My hair hung lank and spilled over the officer's arm. Obviously unconscious, I flopped about like a paper doll, my head lolling to one side, my arms thrown out on either side. Sitting by Raoul, my cheeks burned and I shifted uncomfortably.
A small scuffle broke off at the side, and I saw Raoul push his way through the crowds, shouting mixed insults along with my name. His face was pale and drawn and he, too, had darkness under his eyes, which did not hold as much youthfulness as they had before.
"Excuse me, excuse me," he snapped impatiently. The cameras angled in on his face, and I glanced at the real thing to find an embarrassed grin on his lips. The Raoul on the television approached the officer, staring at my pale face as though hardly daring to believe his eyes.
"Hello," he said breathlessly to the officer. "I'm Raoul de Chagny. This...this is Christine."
The people around him laughed, and so did the one sitting next to me. The Raoul on the screen continued.
"I'm sure you've heard of my interest in the case. Before she disappeared, Christine and I were...together." He looked down at me once more, a small smile breaking onto his lips. "Please, sir, may I just – may I carry her?"
The police officer, after a small, obvious battle in his mind, carefully handed my body over to Raoul, who took me as if I was made of glass. My heart filled with emotion and my eyes with tears at the way he so lovingly gathered my arms up and held me against his chest.
"She's so light," he laughed nervously, and he and the man quickly made their way to the ambulance. The vehicle drove away quickly, its lights flashing, and the screen flickered to black.
"What happened next?" I asked hoarsely, staring at the black television.
"We took you to the hospital. You were dehydrated and needed some food in you, and after a while I got a release for you to come and stay with us at my brother's estate."
All of my questions still had not been answered. "You – you said we were together." I swallowed harshly. "We weren't. You stopped calling."
"No!" He took my hand quickly. "No, I didn't! The recording said your phone was disconnected, and I tried forever. I didn't stop until you were taken. Did you think I would have ended it so quickly?"
I looked at him slowly, and his eyes were so fervent and truthful that all I could do was agree with him.
"Christine, I know this is soon. But I – I still love you, even after all of these years. I just have to let you know that. No matter what you feel, I'll always help you in any way I can."
I let out a muffled sob and covered my mouth quickly to try to hold back more that threatened to emerge. Raoul put a hand on my back, trying to comfort me, yet it was rather fruitless. "Please – give me a few weeks, Raoul, please, and I'll see then."
He gave me a squeeze. "A few weeks, then."
----
Those two weeks went by much too quickly. By the end of them I still did not care for Raoul the same way I cared for Erik. It was painful to even think of Erik's name, so I tried to keep myself busy. I read everything I could get my hands on, worked in the beautiful gardens constantly, and took up cooking as a hobby. While at Erik's, (am I forever doomed to compare my new life with my old one?) my meals were always prepared to perfection for me. I enjoyed the satisfaction that came from creating dishes with my own hands. Although it took quite a bit of time to master everything, I took pleasure in seeing the mistakes in the meals. They reminded me of my reality.
There were many good things about this life, I told myself. I could now go outside whenever I pleased. None of the doors were locked. Shopping and driving were opened up to me once more. But these did not compensate for my loss. Nothing ever would. I was not happy. Raoul would often find me crying quietly in the corner of some room and I, blushing furiously, would quickly excuse myself before he could ask anything. I tried to be cheerful; I tried to be content; I tried to be at peace. And yet I knew I never would be.
When the two weeks were up, when Erik had not yet come for me, I did the worst thing imaginable – I tried to take the cowardly way out. I filled up the sink with warm water and stared at it for the longest time, trying to build up enough motivation. The thought of being with Erik once again was enough, and I plunged my face into the water. It calmed slowly, lapping the side of my face. My brain and lungs screamed for air, and yet I would not rise. I felt myself slowly lose focus, and the last thought in the sink was of Erik.
Suddenly I was violently pulled out of the water, gasping and panting, my hair and face dripping. I screamed at Raoul and tried to hit him, but he pinned my arms under my chest as he hugged me, crying.
"Christine, what's happened to you? Please, for your sake, tell me!"
I broke down in his arms. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry. I never deserved him – how could I?"
He let me sob for quite a while, stroking my hair, and yet I was not unaware of how he stiffened when I called myself unworthy of Him.
"Darling, I think you may want to consider...help," Raoul said gently. I looked at him, my eyes wide with horror. "No!" he corrected himself hastily. "It isn't as bad as you think. Someone to confide in, something completely confidential, who can help you with your problems."
"My 'problems'?" I whispered, my eyes narrowing. I obviously wasn't in the happiest of moods.
"You're depressed, Christine," Raoul went on desperately, seizing my arms. "You need to be happy again! You need to smile and laugh and sing like you used to."
My heart stopped beating on its own and I tore my arms from his grasp. "I will never sing again as long as I live," I hissed.
He looked abashed. "But you love to sing."
Shaking my head frantically, I feigned tiredness and went to my room to collect myself. I could not sing, not without him. The world seemed to come crashing down on me once again, and I grabbed the pillows and sobbed into them pitifully.
That night, Erik came to me in a dream. It was the happiest I had ever felt in the longest time. He promised he had made it to heaven and that God was letting him visit me one more time.
"The real reason I am here, darling child," he said seriously, "is to have you promise me something."
"Anything!" I responded automatically.
"Forget about me," he said severely. "Forget I existed. Marry that boy. Be happy, Christine."
I remember protesting angrily, and he grabbed my wrists and looked into my eyes. I felt my knees buckle.
"If...if you ever felt something for me...forget."
"No – "
"Promise me!" he growled, shaking me slightly. I did quickly, closing my eyes and reveling in his presence.
He then sang to me, and I fell asleep happily, though I woke glum. To be separated, and then to be so near again, even in a dream...To make matters more difficult, Raoul cornered me at the breakfast table.
"Christine, we need to talk," he said gently, yet there was the obvious tone of seriousness in his voice. I set down my fork and looked at him expectantly.
"I need your answer," he burst out. "I need to know if this can still work. Otherwise, I don't want to be...pursuing this if it's impossible. I've waited for you for four years, and now..."
"You don't want to waste your time," I said bluntly.
He looked uncomfortable. "Well...yes, to be frank." He gave a small smile. "After all this time, I think I might get it if you don't feel the same way."
I nodded and thought quietly. Decisions...decisions...I hated them all. But I had promised Erik. I had promised him to forget, to move on. Giving another flickering glance at Raoul, I did consider my feelings. His love and devotion was obvious...the way he carried me, the way he had cared for me during these few weeks, the way he was desperately looking at me now. I knew it was no love like Erik's, but it was pure and sweet, untainted by the hate of men. I am getting quite poetic now, aren't I? To dispense with the sentiments, I will just continue.
"I...I do care for you, Raoul," I said softly, staring at my lap. "And I do want to be married." There were other reasons, too...
A loud laughter burst out, and I looked up, amazed, as he leapt to his feet, sweeping me up and kissing me tenderly. Later that night I was overwhelmed with guilt.
How dare I marry Raoul, merely one month after returning? How can I simply forget everything that happened? It wasn't like a bad dream that left you startled, yet wasn't real; this was real. It happened. Almost without knowing it, I rose from my bed and walked down the hall. With a soft, almost unheard knock, I entered Raoul's bedroom. It was a boring room, with no sign of permanent residence, and I remembered that this was his brother's house, so this must have been another guest room.
"Raoul?" I whispered softly, standing at the foot of his bed, rather like a child after a bad night's sleep. I saw him stir slightly.
"Raoul?"
He sat up, squinting. "Christine? What is it?"
"I can't sleep," I whispered. "And I wanted to talk to you. Could I...?"
"Of course!" he said quickly. I nestled myself in his arms, taking comfort in his warm embrace. He smelled so different than Erik. Raoul's scent was more standard; a mixture of cologne and other things, while Erik smelled like...Erik.
"What is it?" Raoul asked again, putting a hand in my hair. You must understand, journal, that paper is not enough! You don't give me advice, you don't cry with me, you simply absorb everything I put into you without any emotion whatsoever. So you must not think it a disgrace that I sobbed in his arms that night. Oh, I did not tell him everything. I confessed quite a bit more than I would have liked, but nothing pertaining to my relationship with Erik.
"How can I just forget and marry you?" I cried into his shoulder. "It's only been one month! It...it isn't as easy as everyone makes it out to be. I can't simply just wake up one morning with four years of my life gone from my mind. And it was so scary, Raoul. I couldn't...I can't...this can't happen to me!"
Raoul rubbed my back softly and comforted me in the most loving way. "Maybe," he said softly, "you don't have to just forget. It was horrendous and terrifying, and yet you can't wallow in that, Christine. It – it will destroy you. Remember, but move on."
And that was what made it worthwhile to go to Raoul. I smiled, the first real smile in weeks, and my tears subsided slowly.
"Are you all right now?" Raoul asked quietly. He stifled a yawn and kissed the top of my head.
"I feel a bit better," I admitted truthfully. Although I wasn't completely happy and content, I did feel good knowing that I did not have to just forget, now matter what I said to Erik. I thanked Raoul and crawled out of his embrace and back into my own bed, where I slowly fell into a fitful sleep.