Chapter Two
Only What You've Been Waiting For
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You're waiting for someone to put you together,
You're waiting for someone to push you away.
There's always another wound to discover.
There's always something more you'd wish he'd say…
He's everything you want,
He's everything you need,
He's everything inside of you that you wish you could be…
He says all the right things
At exactly the right time,
But he means nothing to you
And you don't know why…
"Everything You Want", Vertical Horizon
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"Christine! Christine! For the love of God, wake up, Christine!"
Christine's eyes snapped open as she was violently shaken awake, pulled out of her nightmare that plagued her sleep ever since the terrifying ordeal in the basement of the Opera Populaire only a week ago. Little by little, the waking world came back into focus. She was in the room the Girys had so graciously let her stay in since the Opera Populaire fire, laying in the bed, the sheets a horrible tangle around her limbs. Sweat matted her thick hair to her head, her breathing heavy and labored as if she had just run a mile. And standing above her, his face a mask of worry and concern, was Raoul. But after dreaming so vividly of Erik, it took her a moment to place a name to the face.
"Raoul…?" Christine started, attempting to sit up in bed. Without saying anything, Raoul assisted her, gently unwinding the blankets that had snared around her arms and legs. They were not alone in the room; Madame Giry was there as well, coming to sit beside the couple with a glass of water in hand. Christine took it gratefully, taking a careful sip. The horrifying images of the dream made her stomach churn uncomfortably.
"Was it the same dream again, child?" Madame Giry asked, soothing Christine's tangled hair back from her face. Christine nodded, still too shaken to speak. Ever since she left Erik, alone, in the basement of the opera house, she was haunted by the same nightmare every night. Every night she was forced to relive the moment when she handed his broken heart back to him and flee from him as if he truly was the monster everyone personified him as. Then there came the fire, and the shattered mask… and amongst it all, Erik was…
But she never found out. She always woke up screaming at that point.
Christine shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself, banishing the nightmare from her mind as she turned her attention back to the present. She looked back up at Raoul, who was intensely waiting for her to say something. "Raoul, what are you doing here?"
"Madame Giry told me about the nightmares. I knew you were having troubles sleeping, even if you weren't telling me so. I thought it would be best if perhaps I…was here for you woke up the next time you had one."
Christine felt her blood run cold. She had been calling out for Erik in her dream… Had she really yelled his name in his sleep? While Raoul was here? There was a flash of concern across Madame Giry's face. Christine could tell that the ballet mistress knew what would inevitably be discussed between the two young lovers now that the Vicomte knew what…or rather, who… Christine's dreams were about.
Christine saw Raoul's throat move as he swallowed thickly. "Madame Giry, would you be so kind to give us a moment alone?" The older woman nodded and left the room without a backwards glance. She knew that she had no place to what was about to transpire. Once the door closed behind her, Raoul clasped Christine's hands in his own. His palms were cold and clammy. "Christine…" There was no anger in this voice, no tone that bordered on jealously. He was only asking, without words, that she be honest with him.
The young singer choked, tears welding in her eyes. "Forgive me, Raoul. Forgive me…"
"Christine, please…just tell me what happened. Tell me what your dream is about."
Raoul remained silent as Christine told him her dream in a tear-choked voice, teetering on the boarder of control until she reached the part with the bleeding mask. Then great tears began to roll down Christine's pale face as she choked on her own words when the image of the shattering mask replayed in her mind over and over again. "Oh Raoul… I can't help but think that I killed him! I left him alone down in the cellars for the mob's taking…"
Raoul's strong hands clenched rightly around Christine's small fists and they held the sheets of her bed in a death grip, easing her increasing hysterical words into silence. "Christine, I'm sure he's fine." Although he sounded honest, Christine knew better than to believe the Vicomte's words. Although Raoul would never say it allowed, she did not doubt that he did indeed with Erik was dead. It was the only guaranteed way to keep him from further intruding on their lives.
On his life… On his perfect, flawless life with a soon to be flawless, perfect wife…
"You know better than I how notoriously clever he is. I'm certain he was miles away by the time the mob reached the lair."
"But…Raoul…" Tears threatened to form in Christine's eyes again. "The mask…and the blood, and the fire…"
"Christine, what you saw was a dream, and nothing more…"
You said that to me once before. You never knew how wrong you were until it was almost too late…
"Dearest, you're still exhausted from that horrible ordeal. It was all very overwhelming for you. For us. But I promise you, these nightmares are nothing more than shadows of a horror that has come to pass. When you are well enough to travel again, we'll leave Paris. I'll take you to my family's estate in the country. You'll absolutely adore it there. Once you get some fresh air, away from the city, you'll forget all about that dreadful event in the opera house. I promise you." Christine nodded absently, just to dignify him with a response. A few days ago, the idea would have sounded lovely to her. Now it just felt so horribly wrong. Raoul smiling brightly at her agreement, leaning forward to plant a gentle kiss on her temple. "That's my girl. Now, get some sleep. No more talk of these nightmares. I will come back in the morning to see how you fair." Without another word, Raoul rose swiftly to his feet and headed for the door of the guestroom.
Christine, however, barely noticed his passing. Her mind was a million miles away, locked the night she and Raoul were on the roof of the opera house just after the tragedy of Il Muto.
But his voice filled my spirit with a strange, sweet sound…
In that night, there was music in my mind…
And through music my soul began to soar…
And I heard as I never heard before…
Erik…her muse, her guardian, her angel… The man who single-handedly brought her voice and therefore her dreams to life…
You said yourself he was nothing but a man…
But while he lives, he'll haunt us till we're dead…
So many lies, spoken before the truth was known… Once again, Christine knew that the words that Raoul had spoken to her in means of comfort held no relevance to the presence. It seemed that, even in her times of darkest despair, it was only Christine who spoke the truth.
Perhaps, that was because she was the only one who knew…
He'll always be there singing songs in my head…
He'll always be there singing songs in my head…
Oh, Erik…
Guilt weld in Christine's throat like bile, but the truth was undeniable any longer. She knew what she had to do, before she no longer had the control.
"Raoul." She called weakly after him. "Wait. There's…something I must tell you."
The young Vicomte stopped, his hand poised just over the doorknob. He looked at her in confusion, but there was something else there, something in his eyes, that told Christine he was dreading what she had to say. As if he had been expecting this moment for some time. Without questioning her, he returned to her bedside, once again taking her hands in his. She noted, with a pang of guilt, how cold and clammy his hands were.
Christine swallowed, unsure of how to start. No matter how she said this, her words would hurt him. He would be the second man in her life whose heart she broke…
"You…told me once that as long as Erik was alive, he would haunt us, day in and say out. He would never stop hunting us…hunting me… And now you tell me over and over that the nightmare is over, that he'll never disturb us again…"
Raoul looked a little taken aback by her words, and even a little hurt. "Dearest, I never said…"
"I know you didn't. But I can see it in your eyes. And a part of me wants to think that it's all over, that whether Erik is dead or alive we're now free to marry and live our lives as we should." She paused, swallowing back the growing lump in her throat. "But I've only been lying to myself. Raoul… please understand that no matte what, Erik will always be with me. Dead or alive, his voice, his music, are now a part of me. They will never leave me. And no matter where we go, I'll always be looking over my shoulder, mistaking shadows as phantoms and ghosts wherever I am. I will always be searching for that small piece that I left behind in the basement that night…"
She trailed off as she saw the color steadily drain from Raoul's handsome face. There was no doubt she had just confirmed what he had been afraid to hear. "Christine… The past events are too fresh in your mind for you to forget them so quickly. Once you're out of the city, you'll have a chance to properly recover, then you can forget…"
The young diva shook her dark head, curls whipping across her face. "No, Raoul. That's just the thing. I…don't want to forget."
Christine felt her heart crack as Raoul's deep blue eyes slid shut as he bowed his head. Tears filled her eyes as she could hear his heart breaking apart. Gently, she rested her fingers on the side of his face, easing him to look back up at her. "Dear Raoul…dear, sweet Raoul…you've shown me nothing but love and kindness since this all began. But you don't want to spend the rest of your life with a wife who's haunted by a ghost. Erik – whether he's dead or alive – will always be a part of my life. And I can't bare the thought of dragging you into my obsession. You deserve someone who will always have their eyes forward, always looking at you, and not at the shadows of the past."
"Christine…" Raoul began softly, lifting his hand to cover her own. "I love you. I can live with that, and with your ghost…"
"And I love you. But as a dear friend, and as the brother I never had. But not as a wife should love a husband. If I stayed Raoul, I would only by lying to myself, and hurting you. You might feel as if you can live with it now, but what about ten years from now? Fifteen years from now? Living with a woman with a divided heart…"
"But what of your happiness, Christine? What will you do if the Opera Ghost is indeed dead?"
Christine shut her eyes, not wanting to believe that possibility, but not denying it either. It was time she stopped acting like a child and believing in foolish fantasies and grow up. Yes, she wished very much that Erik was still alive and well, but she also had to accept the reality that perhaps he was not. "I…don't know, Raoul. I guess that's something I'll just have to figure out when the time comes."
"Little Lotte… I only want what's best for you."
Christine smiled gently. "I know, my dear friend. And that's the most I could ever ask of you."
Raoul leaned forward and embraced her then, holding her tightly as if it were for the last time. "I will always love you, Christine Daaé, my Little Lotte. Even if it is just as a friend and as a brother. Please, don't ever hesitate to come back if you need me, even if it is just as a friend, no matter where life's path might take you."
Christine hugged her childhood friend tightly, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. "Thank you Raoul. Thank you for understanding."
"I only ask that you remain safe. I hope that you find the happiness in life in which you are searching for." He pulled away, still holding her hands as he stood up. "What will you do now?"
"The only thing I can do now. Return to the Opera House and start looking for Erik there."
"But the Opera Populaire is a disaster zone since the fire. The police won't let you near it. How will you ever get in?"
A tiny, sly smile rose came to Christine's mouth. It was the kind of smile Raoul had not seen in years; the kind she processed when they were children and she had just concocted the next dastardly adventure for them to get into. "You see, Raoul, that is but one advantage to being taken under the wing of the Angel of Music."
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TBC….
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Author's Note: Although I am a 100 supporter of the Erik/Christine relationship, I can't really regard Raoul as being a bad guy. Yeah, he tends to get in the way and if he was not in the scene, I think that Erik and Christine would have had a shot at a real romantic relationship… But, like I said, I would not change the original story in any way. Besides, he's not a bad guy, overall. Just misinformed. Like so many other people in the story, he follows societies' configuration to loath and fear that he does not understand, and unfortunately, it is that same entity of the unknown that's crushing on his childhood sweetheart. So of course he's going to clash with Erik. In my point of view, though, this by no means makes him a villain, and I didn't have the heart to label him as one.
