T/W: Gunshots, Death

"Raoul…" I stepped towards the crazed man, hesitantly, drawing on my Christine persona once again. "Put down the gun. I don't want this."

"Don't you? Don't you?" He kept the gun trained on Erik, a crazed smile painting itself on his face. " He killed you, Christine, killed you. He commited murder." I shook my head.

"No, Raoul, no. He didn't kill me." I was ignored.

"What does our country do with murderers, Christine? We murder them. Isn't that what I'm doing? Murdering a murderer? How is that different? How?!"

"Because, Raoul" Erik spoke now, "In our justice systems murderers at least get to stand trial. Maybe not a fair trial, but a trial nonetheless. If I'm guilty- and I'm not -I'll be convicted by a jury and sentenced by a judge. If I get the death penalty, then I'll meet the executionar. You're playing all the three. You put me on trial in your mind and I've lost, but according to the legal system-"

"God, Erik, just shut up!" Raoul shouted, cutting Erik off and sounding a bit too much like a child having a temper tantrum. I squeezed my eyes shut and sent a silent prayer up to the heavens. If Christine was up there, surely she wouldn't want Raoul to murder Erik, even if he had killed her. She didn't seem like a vengeful soul, rather one inclined to forgive and forget. Of course, she may have found murdering her unforgivable. "You always do this- put your two sense in when no one wants it. It's why everyone hates you! That and the-" He waved his free hand over his face, in an obvious gesture to Erik's deformity. Erik made an angry little noise that would've been adorable in any other circumstances but managed to hold his tongue, thank Christine.

"Raoul," I snapped, drawing his attention back to me. "Don't do this. If you're caught, and you will be caught, what about Gustave? What happens to him?"

"Gustave is young. He'll barely remember any of this." His tone of voice didn't match the cruelty of his words. It seemed like I had hit a weak spot. I continued to press.

"But everyone else will! He'll be a social pariah, the scandal haunting his name."

"Is that why you took Charles with you? To spare him from the scandal?" I ignored the question.

"Please Raoul, don't do it. He'll have a hard enough as a bastard, with a dead mother and brother." The words slipped out before I could stop them. I saw Raoul's mouth fall open into a surprised little 'o'. He didn't say anything. I glanced over towards Erik, who was shaking his head mournfully. Finally, Raoul spoke.

"A- a- a bastard?" Raoul let out a little hysterical laugh. His tone was jovial. "A bastard?" It hardened. "What do you mean, a bastard?! You mean he's not mine? Gustave's not mine?" I didn't respond, unable to confirm nor deny his questions. I shouldn't have said anything, this was a terrible plan. My eyes began to water and I wiped my eyes. My silence seemed to strengthen Raoul's suspicions though. "Is he- is he his?" Raoul thrusted the gun towards Erik, who stumbled back instinctually. I held my breath as he swayed, holding his arms out to his side to regain his balance. Once he regained it, he stepped forward to a safer position. I watched as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, before raising a hand to his face. Then he did something I've only seen him do in private, with me.

Erik took off his mask. I heard Giles gasp from behind me, I had forgotten he and Alexandre were there. I turned to look. Giles was sitting on the ground, Alexandre was nowhere to be seen and neither was the car. Perhaps he was going for help. Erik's voice drew my attention back to him.

"No, he isn't. I think Gustave is honestly yours. Charles, however… Charles was my son. That's why, she left me, you know. Not because she loved you, she left for the child." Raoul, who was already horrified by Erik's deformity, grew even more so at this explanation. "When we first got engaged, we agreed not to have children. But… well, these things are not… foolproof." I cringed. "When we found out about the pregnancy, we knew there would be a problem. The so-called 'Son of the Devil' having a child of his own… society would not be kind to him. It was a hard decision but ultimately, we reasoned, it was for the best."

He paused, waiting for either of us to respond. When we didn't he added something else. "I'm not proud of it, you know. I regret it every day of my life." He looked directly at me for the last part. "Every day." There was complete and utter silence for a moment. No one moved, I don't even think I drew breath. Raoul broke it.

"So that's why you killed her. Regret." Erik looked confused, genuinely confused now.

"What? No, you idiot. Why would I kill her? Have you really not been paying attention? I told you-" And Raoul finally snapped. It all happened at once. The gunshots rang out. Erik fell backward, over the cliff.

I screamed and the world seemed to freeze.

…

Giles watched as M. Devereux fell. It was a surreal, out of body experience- watching someone die. Perhaps this would bother him more later, once he was out of this addled state. The world seemed very hazy, right now.

M. Devereux fell, but he didn't scream. A flash of something like pain or fear

flashed across his face briefly but it was soon replaced by something else. Peace? He looked peaceful but then again, Giles really couldn't trust his eyes. The world was swimming and pounding and Giles wouldn't have been surprised if this was a dream.

What did it say about his subconscious, if he dreamt something like this?

He watched as Mme. Devereux stumbled over to the cliff, staring down into the water, hoping to see… something. Perhaps M. had managed to grab the side of the cliff? Perhaps he was able to swim? Perhaps he could fly? Giles hoped he could fly.

"No, Giles, humans can't fly," He pictured Alexandre, ever the logical one, saying. "Besides, the blood loss from the gunshot will get him before we ever could."

Giles turned his attention away from Mme. and over to the Vicomte. He looked confused, like he couldn't comprehend what he had just done. The Vicomte noticed Giles watching him.

"Did I do that?" His voice was quiet, and now sober. It wasn't sober before. Giles nodded. The Vicomte nodded back. "Right.. right… don't they send murderers to jail?"

"Yes."

"And… I am a murderer?" Giles nodded again. The Vicomte nodded determinedly before glancing down at the weapon in his hand. He fiddled with the trigger. If Giles had been in his right mind, he would've known what the Vicomte was going to do. It was painfully obvious, he would later realize, looking back on it. But Giles hadn't been in his right mind and he watched in stunned silence as the Vicomte raised the gun to his head. Another loud bang.

"No!" Giles yelped too late. The Vicomte was dead. Mme. Devereux continued to sob. There was so much death, far too much death. Where was Alexandre? Was he dead too? No, Alexandre was fetching the police, Alexandre had driven to the village to call the police. But what if… what if there had been a sharp turn? Another car? Giles was having trouble breathing. What was this world they lived in, a world with so much death? Death and destruction and violence and greed and obsession and hate. Mme. was still sobbing. Giles clamped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. He could see it playing over and over on the inside of his eyelids. M. falling, the Vicomte dying, Christine and Charles plunging over a cliff. He hadn't been there for the last one but he had imagined it enough.

Miles away, a car door opened followed by a stream to angry curses. At least, it felt like miles away. Someone grabbed Giles by the shoulders. "Giles? Giles?" The voice sounded panicked. His eyes fluttered open. Alexandre was staring at him, his eyes shining. Was he… crying? Unable to say anything, Giles flung his arms around Alexandre's next and pulled him close. He didn't want to let go.

…

Giles was asleep, the doctor had determined that his injury was non-threatening and he'd be fine in a few days. The psychological trauma was a different story, they'd have to wait and see for that. His head was currently resting in Alexandre' lap. They were in the village's police station/ doctors office. Mme. Devereux was in another room- the doctor part of the establishment -being treated for shock. The doctor had given her a sedative and she wouldn't wake up for a while. Raoul was in the hospital, somehow, the idiot had managed to botch his own sucide, which was good, Alexandre thought. The ass deserved to rot in prison.

Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was all his fault.

He didn't know what had happened after he had left to go get the police. He just knew that when he came back, Erik was dead, Mme. was broken, Raoul was unconscious and Giles was on another planet. How had things gone so bad? None of the witnesses were coherent enough to dictate the specifics but Alexandre had managed to figure out something. Raoul had killed Erik in order to avenge Christine.

Which led to how this was all his fault.

His mother had worked for Christine's father as a housekeeper and as the Daae's moved around the world, Alexandre and his mother followed. Alexandre was 1 year younger than Christine and yet they grew close. They didn't make many personal connections at school, or at least Alexandre didn't. He didn't learn much, either. Instead, he stole the books Christine brought home and devoured them. When he finished them, she brought more. Their system worked.

When Alexandre turned 9, he began to feel… things. Those things had always been there, they were just… more. When he tried to talk to his mother about it she explained that all boys felt this way about girls. When Alexandre explained that he didn't feel that way about girls, she pursed her lips and remained silent for several moments. "Well… we'll talk about it when you're older." And they had. And so began a lifetime of extreme paranoia.

He told Christine 4 years later, on a seaside holiday in Sweden. The two had been given free rein of the town for the day, Alexandre charged with 'escorting' Christine around. It was less 'escorting' and more 'having fun with'. They were in the ice cream shop when Alexandre spotted him. Curly blonde hair, an electric smile, and a very posh accent.

"Christine, Christine!" Alexandre whispered, unable to control himself. "Do you see him?" Christine looked over.

"Alexandre, you know Father would kill me if he knew I was hanging around with any boy other than you-" She looked over at him. "Oh. Ohhhhh." Alexandre felt his face turn scarlet. "Do you-"

"Yes," He answered, too quickly. "Yes." And so, they spent the rest of the day following him, until the now-infamous red scarf incident. Entirely for Alexandre's benefit, Christine threw her scarf into the sea. The boy, who revealed himself to be the Vicomte de Chagny, grabbed it and gave it back, along with a kiss for Christine. And she enjoyed it. Afterwards she had apologized a lot and Alexandre had lied and told her it was fine. He wasn't mad at her, it wasn't her fault. It was his. That's when Alexandre realized that the girl always gets the boy.

Alexandre traveled to Paris with Christine after her Father died and she decided to pursue a career in Opera. Alexandre spent his time working as a stage hand and studying at a nearby university, while Christine rehearsed. And rehearsed. And rehearsed. She rehearsed until she became the leading soprano, the star. Her debut was a production of Hannibal, where she played Elissa. He met Giles after that production of Hannibal, when he also learned about Erik. Christine hadn't told him about the man before, and he'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt. But of course, the woman was entitled to her privacy and he let her have it.

When Christine told him that she was moving to Montague, (he acted completely surprised), she asked him to help her. She'd need someone to help her load the car, to help drive. (She didn't know how yet). He and Giles, who had decided to continue their relationship, took that as a perfect opportunity to move in together. Alexandre would live in the village, he knew he'd be able to find a job and Giles would live in the house. Christine wouldn't be any the wiser, and if any of the locals asked, the two would claim they were cousins. They'd make it work and it did, for a year. Until he and Giles awoke to a pounding on their door in the middle of the night and opened it to find a frazzled Christine and a slightly-perturbed Erik.

Unfortunately, Alexandre had been the one to open the door, still in his pajamas. Christine had not known he was here. "Oh yes, Giles 'cousin'," Erik had stated, walking right past him. "Tell Giles to get out here and make sure he has clothes on." Alexandre had just stared at him, confused. Christine said nothing before walking past him, just gave him a look of absolute betrayal.

"Giles!" Alexandre had called, pushing open the door to the bedroom. Giles had somehow managed to usurp the entire bed in the short time Alexandre was away. "Giles!" He stirred, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

"Wha?"

"M. and Mme. are here to see you," He said, remembering to use the proper titles. "M. specified that he wants you to be wearing a shirt."

"Oh," Giles murmured, sitting up all the way. "Just a shirt?" Alexandre laughed.

"I think he wants pants too," He paused. "I'll go make sure M. and Mme. are comfortable." They were comfortable, thankfully, and the three sat in awkward silence while they waited for Giles to put on some clothes. When he finally emerged after what felt like forever, Erik and Christine explained why they had come. In short, Christine was with child and Erik did not think things would go well if it was common knowledge he was the child's father. Alexandre had heard rumors about the man, what was hiding under his mask. He'd heard him called many things, the best of them being "Child of the Devil". The world would not be kind to the child of his. Not that Alexandre agreed with their plan, things would get even worse once the child's true parentage had been discovered, which it would be.

He liked it even less when he discovered who Christine would be going to life with. A former lover, who wouldn't be surprised if she showed up in the middle of the night, unannounced, and wouldn't be against marrying her as soon as possible. Raoul, the Vicomte de Chagny. Needless to say, Alexandre did not like it. And he was very vocal in his distaste for the plan. When Christine and Erik asked for Giles and him to help her move, to drive her to Windermere, Alexandre refused. Multiple times. He wanted no part in this.

"But why?" Christine had shouted as he stood definitely.

"Because I don't agree with you. You're being stupid and taking the easy way out. Yes, it's hard but so is life." He had looked at Giles. "We all have to make tough decisions for love." At that, Giles turned bright red (really bright red, he looked sun-burned) and stood with Alexandre.

"I- I agree. We won't help you but if you decide to go through with this, we'll act surprised. We never heard of your plan." Erik seemed to think for a moment, while Christine looked on the verge of tears.

"Fine," Erik finally said, standing. "We were never here." He began to walk towards the door, hesitantly Christine followed. As she passed him, Alexandre grabbed her arm.

"Don't you love him?" Christine looked at him, sadly. They were speaking in whispers.

"He's scared. He doesn't think he'll be a good father. I tried to persuade him but…"

"But don't you love him?"

"I do. But I think I love my child more, and if I have to choose…"

"Well make it so you don't have to!" Christine narrowed her eyes and pulled away from him.

"All this coming from the man who's been hiding from me? I've been trying to contact you, I thought you were dead!"

"I just thought… I thought we needed to go live our own lives." She sighed.

"You two aren't so different, you know?" She glanced towards Erik, who was watching this exchange intently. "We can still be friends without being attached at the hip." That was the last time he ever saw her.

He should've apologized, should've told her she was right, should've… done something.

About a year later, he received a phone call. During this time he had become an unofficial gardener to Montague. He needed something to do, there wasn't much work for a man of science in this tiny town and not many odd jobs. He liked plants. But back to the phone call.

"Hello?" Alexandre sighed, placing his book face down on his lap. Giles was still at the house.

"Alexandre?" Christine's voice crackled to life on the other end. She was crying. "I made a mistake. I shouldn't have come with Raoul… he knows about Charles and he's drunk, oh god," She sniffled on the other end. "He's not usually violent but… Alexandre he's really angry."

"Are you and Charles," He assumed that was Erik's child's name, "In any danger?" She sniffed again.

"No, not me but… he really hates Erik and Charles… Charles looks just like him. And then there's Gustave…"

"Do you want me to come and get you and the boy?"

"No- no- I can drive, Raoul showed me, I have a car, I just… can you make sure Erik knows I'm coming and…"

"Why did you call me and not him?"

"Because… you're the least emotional person I know," Ouch. "You think. Erik's too emotional, he… doesn't think. I want to come back." He thought for a long moment, how to get Christine out safely? She didn't believe she was in real danger but you never know, Alexandre had seen how violent drunks can get.

"Gustave is Raoul's son?"

"Yes."

"Leave Gustave with him, he won't go as crazy if he sees that you left him his son," Or he'd take all his rage out on Gustave. This could go either way. "Take Charles and drive here, Erik will keep you safe and we'll figure out how to get Gustave out. Take what you need but get out of here as quickly as possible. Got it?"

"Yes. Goodbye-"

"Christine?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"So am I."

"See you soon."

"Bye." He hung up the phone. Obviously, he never would see her again. And he never had a chance to tell Erik about the phone call. He hadn't told anyone, kept this secret entirely to himself. It was better that way.

Raoul obviously didn't remember the exchange. He must've been that drunk. Perhaps his brain had inserted a different set of events for the evening Christine perished. It wasn't unknown to happen. The real question was, did he kill her? Had he cut the breaks? Had he followed her and forced her off the road? If he did it, did he remember?

This was all his fault. If he had said something to Giles, Erik… if he had been there… they could've told Raoul what actually happened, reasoned with him. At least Erik was with Christine and Charles now.

"Alexandre?" Giles' voice brought him out of his self pity and back to reality. He was awake. "Can we go home?" He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. Alexandre nodded, and clambered to his feet.

"I'll go ask."

It took some arguing (a lot of arguing) but within 15 minutes Giles and Alexandre were on their way home, in a police car. The police car wasn't necessary, the cottage was only a 10 minute walk, but apparently it was police. The officer driving them was older, probably in his 60's. He was talking to them while he drove, but they were meaningless words, small talk.

"I have a granddaughter, 'bout your age. She's good lookin' too, real popular with the men. I think you'd like her and I think she'd like you, she likes to dance…" Alexandre didn't know which one of them his granddaughter would like but he didn't care enough to ask. Thankfully, they reached the cottage quickly.

"This is it," Alexandre said, opening the door and helping Giles, who had fallen asleep on his shoulder, out. "We'll see you tomorrow."

""Night, son. Make sure to call if you need anything. It's a bloody awful business, bloody awful. Pity you and your cousin got yourself dragged into it." Alexandre nodded absently.

"Good night." The car drove away.

Alexandre didn't sleep much that night, but Giles did.

Sorry for taking so long to update, I hope I make it up to you with a longer chapter!