I So Want To Be You
By Deep Roller
A/N: Yes, there are a lot of questions to be answered, aren't there? ~tuts gently~ Well, you'll have to read on because I don't have the answers for you. I just kept thinking about the time I saw the Scooby Doo movie, and they all switched bodies, and Fred was in Daphne's body. ~grins~ "Hey, I'm Daphne. Whoah, I can lookit myself naked!" "Fred! Don't you dare! Hey, Fred's touching me! Quit it!" And then there was the time plankton switched lives with Mr. Krabs. That was hilarious. On a totally unrelated note, I'm wearing a Spongebob bandage that glows in the dark, and my arm cast is covered in signatures. Cool, huh?
Disclaimer: If they were mine, I'd use them to take over the world. Well, I'd get Raoul drunk first and make him wear a giant diaper, but that's a personal choice.
Panic crept over Erik then. Mind numbing panic that made him start shaking all over. This was absolutely the worst thing that had ever happened to him. What was he going to do now? He'd have to just hole up in this room until something else happened. But where exactly was he now? And what was going on?
"Christine! Christine are you up there?" A coarse but somehow dreamy woman's voice floated up the stairs, causing Erik to jump eight feet in the air.
"Yes?" He answered querulously, shocked to hear Christine's voice issuing from his throat. It was the last barrier to this unreal dream. ~It really has happened, then~ He thought, ~I am Christine...but who in hell is downstairs?~
"Christine, the vicomte's here to see you!!" The voice called up, incredibly insistent now. "Come down at once, girl!" Erik slapped his forehead repeatedly, growling and muttering incredibly potent curses.
"No, no,no,no! Damn!" He repeated, almost as a mantra. But steeling himself, since he had a feeling the owner of the voice downstairs would come and drag him if he didn't come, he took an incredibly deep breath and opened the door. Walking down the stairs in bare feet and a white night-dress thing, he felt incredibly embarrassed and he wanted more than anything in the word to cover his face, even though he had seen in the mirror there was no need. By the time he got down the stairs, he was blushing furiously, and when he saw Raoul at the foot of some older woman's rocking chair, he couldn't control his dark scowl.
"Why, Christine!" Raoul exclaimed, not sure what to be shocked at first, the fact that she scowled when she first saw him upset him terribly. "You're...you're bleeding!"
"And not properly dressed, go on upstairs and change this instant! This boy is here to take you out on the town, and you will respect him. Now go!" Erik's hands flew to his mouth and he shook his head, his blush going dead pale in six seconds flat.
"Oh, no, no I can't! I don't want to!" He shouted, his hands shaking.
"Child, you don't look so good. Fresh air will do you nicely, look at your paleness."
"What's the matter, Christine my love? You don't want to go out into the park with me?"
"Don't you DARE call me that!" He shrieked in a panic, amused in the depths of his mind at the absurdness of this voice. "I am not your love!" A look of absolute hurt and horror came across Raoul's face, and he turned away sadly.
"Christine! No more of this, you go up right now and get dressed, you are going." Momma Valerius chided. Erik, still horrified beyond belief at this new twist, raced upstairs, still muttering to himself.
Once inside the room, he shut the door and stood on the other side of it, absolutely shaking. He would have to....oh dear, it wasn't right, it just wasn't right! He couldn't bring himself to do it, but there was no other way. Or was there? What if he just dressed OVER the nightgown? That would work, that would work! It didn't look too different from the three dresses hanging in the closet. He picked one up and looked at it with all the concentration of Galileo pondering a new star. How, how could he get into it? Step in, he supposed. So he unfastened the dress and stepped into it, pulling it over the nightgown and trying to reach around the back to fasten it. He reached, and he leaned back, and he fell over, right on his back. But he couldn't fasten the blasted dress. Rolling around on the floor and cursing, he finally managed to fasten it, and he found it incredibly tight around his waist. "How in God's name does she BREATHE in this thing?" He muttered savagely, looking in the mirror. "But it does look remarkably good....oh, stop that Erik!" He chided himself. But now, now the hair was a mess. There was a brush on the table by the mirror. It looked simple enough....
Raoul was waiting downstairs, and after a bit of concern on hearing shouts and scrabbles in Christine's room, he was relieved to see her coming down the stairs. But something was even more wrong than the first time she had emerged. Her nightgown was visible under her dress, and her hair was a huge nest of tangles, the brush dangling from one twisted lock of it. "Christine? Is that...your nightgown? And the brush?" Christine quickly swiped the brush out of her hair, exclaiming with a loud yell when it tore out the chunk it was attached to.
"Don't question me." She growled at him. "I'm going out with you, aren't I?"
"Is something wrong?" He asked, completely puzzled.
"I'm not myself today. Can we just get on with this? Please?" Her attitude towards him was remarkably distant, and she was behaving so strangely. It made him wonder if something really was the matter. And he had thought the Valerius woman was a nutcase. He took her to the park, and they took a walk, though every time he tried to get near her, she'd jump away and start walking. There was also that bizarre fancy of hers for walking in the shade.
"I'll take you back to the House now, no doubt you need to prepare for opening night." The reaction was instantaneous.
"God!! I forgot all about that! The Opera House! Who's watching the Opera House?!" She positively tore at his collar, her eyes ablaze. "You have to get me there RIGHT NOW." Stunned but unwilling to disobey her, he ordered the cab to take them to the Opera House as quickly as it could. When they got there, he let her out.
"I will escort you inside, if that is agreeable." He said, feeling slightly uneasy about her.
"No, no, I can walk in there myself. Thanks all the same." She said distractedly, heading for the huge building. Raoul grabbed her hand and kissed it, not at all prepared for the smack that landed him on his feet.
"Never do that again!" She screeched before dashing headlong into the Opera House, tripping on her skirts every now and again. Totally confused, and now with a stinging cheek, Raoul climbed back into the cab and headed home.
"Oh gross! How disgusting!" Erik muttered, holding the offending hand out in front of him until he reached Christine's dressing room, flinging the door open and rushing to the water pitcher her maid had left out for her. Splashing the hand furiously with water, he scrubbed it with his other hand until it turned bright red. "This is not what I wanted at all!" He said, looking up at the ceiling in a tortured sort of way. "I want out, I want out!"
"Out of what, child?" A voice from behind the mirror asked suddenly, making him jump straight up again. He turned, a look of utter disbelief in his eyes. This was way, way too much.
"You can't be! You're not...you're not ME! I'm me, but I'm here!" The voice, his ~real~ voice, came from the mirror, a note of concern jingling in it.
"Christine, are you feeling alright? You don't seem yourself today."
"I'm not...I'm not...I don't need this today." Erik said weakly. "I don't know what's going on, but I sure don't like it. Who are you?"
"Why, you know me, I am the Angel of Music!"
"Don't give me that, please." Erik had meant for his voice to be resonant with indignant anger, but it came out weak and despaired.
"I'm beginning to think you don't want to visit me, Christine. Why don't you visit?" The voice was growing slightly angry now.
"Look, I'll come down there right now. I know the way...by now, will you just let me pass?" Obediently, the wires began to turn, and Erik found himself staring himself in the face. Then, the other Erik grabbed his wrist and gently tugged him forward. "This is too surreal." He murmured to himself as he wandered down the corridors to the boat. When they got to his house, Erik tripped again while trying to step out of the boat, ending up in the lake. "DAMN!" He screamed, soaked to the bone in lake water. The other Erik seemed shocked at this.
"I've never heard you use that kind of language before, Christine." He said, hauling Erik up out of the water. "Come, I have something you can change into."
"I don't want to change, I'll stay soaked, thank you." Erik grumbled, sodden and miserable and half inclined to rip his own throat out with his nails. Or the throat of his other self, anyway. Shrugging, the other Erik led him into the house and motioned him to sit down.
"I'll make some tea, I'll use the samovar." The other Erik asserted, stepping out. Ayesha made her entrance then, strolling calmly into the room like Cleopatra's own sibling. Smiling, Erik reached out to pet her, scoop her up, anything.
"Ayesha, darling!" He said, trying to get her attention as he picked her up. His only reward was a huge claw mark down his face. He dropped the cat, who looked at him savagely. "You too, huh? Can this day get any worse?" And then the other Erik came back with the tea. He took one look at Erik and gasped.
"Child, your face! Did Ayesha scratch you?"
"My fault, my fault." He muttered, taking a cup of tea and sipping it. It tasted so incredibly bland that he nearly spat it out. "Does the samovar not work....Erik?" He asked, the words strange on his tongue, though he tried for Christine's tremulous voice.
"Oh, it's a bit on the fritz, I suppose." The other said idly, waving a languid hand through the air. "But now, I must do some composing. You just sit right down here, then and calm yourself. I really ought to get some compresses, that will be a nasty scratch."
"I'm fine, really. Your music is more important." Erik assured him, sitting quietly on the couch and looking around. Ayesha looked at him warily before striding off with her tail in an indignant angry line. After awhile, Erik's mind began to wander as his wet seat sank into the couch. ~If I'm Christine, which I am, and I'm also myself, where is Christine? Could she be someone else? Or are there two of us? Well, I'd better stay away from that line of thought, I'll go completely mad. I wonder what I look like now, I haven't seen myself since I was five. But...if I know me, and I do, I'll certainly get mad. Grief, I'll give myself a heart attack. But I just want to see. Besides, it's me, anyway. I'd only be yelling at myself.~
With that in mind, Erik crept up to the figure playing on the organ, or rather punching out tones on the keys, and wiggled his own fingers in anticipation. He could do it now, he thought. There was really nothing left to lose, this day was already insane. His fingers found the hook of his mask and it was off before he could say boo. ~Boy, no wonder I don't look at myself often.~ He said mildly, before the other Erik lunged at him, their eyes locking in a strange, weird meeting. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" The other Erik roared angrily, tearing around and trying to reach Erik. Erik wasn't stupid, and slipped trying to scrabble away. The other was on him in a second, pinning him down and making him flinch and plea for anyone to save him now. He was absolutely terrified now, sure that he was, in fact, going to be killed. "Erik, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" His attacker roared, causing Erik's eyes to go wide.
~No, it can't be....~ He thought, looking into his suddenly confused assailant's face. Blinking, he squinted and shook his head in puzzlement. "Did you just call me Erik?" He asked softly. The other quickly sat up and backed away. Sensing his upper hand, Erik got up and advanced on the other person. "How did you know? How did you know it was me?"
"Because...because...oh, Erik, it's all a mess! I wished for this!" The other said, the voice suddenly bursting with despair.
A/N: Who could it be? Well, you'll find out soon enough. Fifty million dollars to the person who gets it right. Heck, I'm still trying to figure it out! ~_^
By Deep Roller
A/N: Yes, there are a lot of questions to be answered, aren't there? ~tuts gently~ Well, you'll have to read on because I don't have the answers for you. I just kept thinking about the time I saw the Scooby Doo movie, and they all switched bodies, and Fred was in Daphne's body. ~grins~ "Hey, I'm Daphne. Whoah, I can lookit myself naked!" "Fred! Don't you dare! Hey, Fred's touching me! Quit it!" And then there was the time plankton switched lives with Mr. Krabs. That was hilarious. On a totally unrelated note, I'm wearing a Spongebob bandage that glows in the dark, and my arm cast is covered in signatures. Cool, huh?
Disclaimer: If they were mine, I'd use them to take over the world. Well, I'd get Raoul drunk first and make him wear a giant diaper, but that's a personal choice.
Panic crept over Erik then. Mind numbing panic that made him start shaking all over. This was absolutely the worst thing that had ever happened to him. What was he going to do now? He'd have to just hole up in this room until something else happened. But where exactly was he now? And what was going on?
"Christine! Christine are you up there?" A coarse but somehow dreamy woman's voice floated up the stairs, causing Erik to jump eight feet in the air.
"Yes?" He answered querulously, shocked to hear Christine's voice issuing from his throat. It was the last barrier to this unreal dream. ~It really has happened, then~ He thought, ~I am Christine...but who in hell is downstairs?~
"Christine, the vicomte's here to see you!!" The voice called up, incredibly insistent now. "Come down at once, girl!" Erik slapped his forehead repeatedly, growling and muttering incredibly potent curses.
"No, no,no,no! Damn!" He repeated, almost as a mantra. But steeling himself, since he had a feeling the owner of the voice downstairs would come and drag him if he didn't come, he took an incredibly deep breath and opened the door. Walking down the stairs in bare feet and a white night-dress thing, he felt incredibly embarrassed and he wanted more than anything in the word to cover his face, even though he had seen in the mirror there was no need. By the time he got down the stairs, he was blushing furiously, and when he saw Raoul at the foot of some older woman's rocking chair, he couldn't control his dark scowl.
"Why, Christine!" Raoul exclaimed, not sure what to be shocked at first, the fact that she scowled when she first saw him upset him terribly. "You're...you're bleeding!"
"And not properly dressed, go on upstairs and change this instant! This boy is here to take you out on the town, and you will respect him. Now go!" Erik's hands flew to his mouth and he shook his head, his blush going dead pale in six seconds flat.
"Oh, no, no I can't! I don't want to!" He shouted, his hands shaking.
"Child, you don't look so good. Fresh air will do you nicely, look at your paleness."
"What's the matter, Christine my love? You don't want to go out into the park with me?"
"Don't you DARE call me that!" He shrieked in a panic, amused in the depths of his mind at the absurdness of this voice. "I am not your love!" A look of absolute hurt and horror came across Raoul's face, and he turned away sadly.
"Christine! No more of this, you go up right now and get dressed, you are going." Momma Valerius chided. Erik, still horrified beyond belief at this new twist, raced upstairs, still muttering to himself.
Once inside the room, he shut the door and stood on the other side of it, absolutely shaking. He would have to....oh dear, it wasn't right, it just wasn't right! He couldn't bring himself to do it, but there was no other way. Or was there? What if he just dressed OVER the nightgown? That would work, that would work! It didn't look too different from the three dresses hanging in the closet. He picked one up and looked at it with all the concentration of Galileo pondering a new star. How, how could he get into it? Step in, he supposed. So he unfastened the dress and stepped into it, pulling it over the nightgown and trying to reach around the back to fasten it. He reached, and he leaned back, and he fell over, right on his back. But he couldn't fasten the blasted dress. Rolling around on the floor and cursing, he finally managed to fasten it, and he found it incredibly tight around his waist. "How in God's name does she BREATHE in this thing?" He muttered savagely, looking in the mirror. "But it does look remarkably good....oh, stop that Erik!" He chided himself. But now, now the hair was a mess. There was a brush on the table by the mirror. It looked simple enough....
Raoul was waiting downstairs, and after a bit of concern on hearing shouts and scrabbles in Christine's room, he was relieved to see her coming down the stairs. But something was even more wrong than the first time she had emerged. Her nightgown was visible under her dress, and her hair was a huge nest of tangles, the brush dangling from one twisted lock of it. "Christine? Is that...your nightgown? And the brush?" Christine quickly swiped the brush out of her hair, exclaiming with a loud yell when it tore out the chunk it was attached to.
"Don't question me." She growled at him. "I'm going out with you, aren't I?"
"Is something wrong?" He asked, completely puzzled.
"I'm not myself today. Can we just get on with this? Please?" Her attitude towards him was remarkably distant, and she was behaving so strangely. It made him wonder if something really was the matter. And he had thought the Valerius woman was a nutcase. He took her to the park, and they took a walk, though every time he tried to get near her, she'd jump away and start walking. There was also that bizarre fancy of hers for walking in the shade.
"I'll take you back to the House now, no doubt you need to prepare for opening night." The reaction was instantaneous.
"God!! I forgot all about that! The Opera House! Who's watching the Opera House?!" She positively tore at his collar, her eyes ablaze. "You have to get me there RIGHT NOW." Stunned but unwilling to disobey her, he ordered the cab to take them to the Opera House as quickly as it could. When they got there, he let her out.
"I will escort you inside, if that is agreeable." He said, feeling slightly uneasy about her.
"No, no, I can walk in there myself. Thanks all the same." She said distractedly, heading for the huge building. Raoul grabbed her hand and kissed it, not at all prepared for the smack that landed him on his feet.
"Never do that again!" She screeched before dashing headlong into the Opera House, tripping on her skirts every now and again. Totally confused, and now with a stinging cheek, Raoul climbed back into the cab and headed home.
"Oh gross! How disgusting!" Erik muttered, holding the offending hand out in front of him until he reached Christine's dressing room, flinging the door open and rushing to the water pitcher her maid had left out for her. Splashing the hand furiously with water, he scrubbed it with his other hand until it turned bright red. "This is not what I wanted at all!" He said, looking up at the ceiling in a tortured sort of way. "I want out, I want out!"
"Out of what, child?" A voice from behind the mirror asked suddenly, making him jump straight up again. He turned, a look of utter disbelief in his eyes. This was way, way too much.
"You can't be! You're not...you're not ME! I'm me, but I'm here!" The voice, his ~real~ voice, came from the mirror, a note of concern jingling in it.
"Christine, are you feeling alright? You don't seem yourself today."
"I'm not...I'm not...I don't need this today." Erik said weakly. "I don't know what's going on, but I sure don't like it. Who are you?"
"Why, you know me, I am the Angel of Music!"
"Don't give me that, please." Erik had meant for his voice to be resonant with indignant anger, but it came out weak and despaired.
"I'm beginning to think you don't want to visit me, Christine. Why don't you visit?" The voice was growing slightly angry now.
"Look, I'll come down there right now. I know the way...by now, will you just let me pass?" Obediently, the wires began to turn, and Erik found himself staring himself in the face. Then, the other Erik grabbed his wrist and gently tugged him forward. "This is too surreal." He murmured to himself as he wandered down the corridors to the boat. When they got to his house, Erik tripped again while trying to step out of the boat, ending up in the lake. "DAMN!" He screamed, soaked to the bone in lake water. The other Erik seemed shocked at this.
"I've never heard you use that kind of language before, Christine." He said, hauling Erik up out of the water. "Come, I have something you can change into."
"I don't want to change, I'll stay soaked, thank you." Erik grumbled, sodden and miserable and half inclined to rip his own throat out with his nails. Or the throat of his other self, anyway. Shrugging, the other Erik led him into the house and motioned him to sit down.
"I'll make some tea, I'll use the samovar." The other Erik asserted, stepping out. Ayesha made her entrance then, strolling calmly into the room like Cleopatra's own sibling. Smiling, Erik reached out to pet her, scoop her up, anything.
"Ayesha, darling!" He said, trying to get her attention as he picked her up. His only reward was a huge claw mark down his face. He dropped the cat, who looked at him savagely. "You too, huh? Can this day get any worse?" And then the other Erik came back with the tea. He took one look at Erik and gasped.
"Child, your face! Did Ayesha scratch you?"
"My fault, my fault." He muttered, taking a cup of tea and sipping it. It tasted so incredibly bland that he nearly spat it out. "Does the samovar not work....Erik?" He asked, the words strange on his tongue, though he tried for Christine's tremulous voice.
"Oh, it's a bit on the fritz, I suppose." The other said idly, waving a languid hand through the air. "But now, I must do some composing. You just sit right down here, then and calm yourself. I really ought to get some compresses, that will be a nasty scratch."
"I'm fine, really. Your music is more important." Erik assured him, sitting quietly on the couch and looking around. Ayesha looked at him warily before striding off with her tail in an indignant angry line. After awhile, Erik's mind began to wander as his wet seat sank into the couch. ~If I'm Christine, which I am, and I'm also myself, where is Christine? Could she be someone else? Or are there two of us? Well, I'd better stay away from that line of thought, I'll go completely mad. I wonder what I look like now, I haven't seen myself since I was five. But...if I know me, and I do, I'll certainly get mad. Grief, I'll give myself a heart attack. But I just want to see. Besides, it's me, anyway. I'd only be yelling at myself.~
With that in mind, Erik crept up to the figure playing on the organ, or rather punching out tones on the keys, and wiggled his own fingers in anticipation. He could do it now, he thought. There was really nothing left to lose, this day was already insane. His fingers found the hook of his mask and it was off before he could say boo. ~Boy, no wonder I don't look at myself often.~ He said mildly, before the other Erik lunged at him, their eyes locking in a strange, weird meeting. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" The other Erik roared angrily, tearing around and trying to reach Erik. Erik wasn't stupid, and slipped trying to scrabble away. The other was on him in a second, pinning him down and making him flinch and plea for anyone to save him now. He was absolutely terrified now, sure that he was, in fact, going to be killed. "Erik, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" His attacker roared, causing Erik's eyes to go wide.
~No, it can't be....~ He thought, looking into his suddenly confused assailant's face. Blinking, he squinted and shook his head in puzzlement. "Did you just call me Erik?" He asked softly. The other quickly sat up and backed away. Sensing his upper hand, Erik got up and advanced on the other person. "How did you know? How did you know it was me?"
"Because...because...oh, Erik, it's all a mess! I wished for this!" The other said, the voice suddenly bursting with despair.
A/N: Who could it be? Well, you'll find out soon enough. Fifty million dollars to the person who gets it right. Heck, I'm still trying to figure it out! ~_^
