Hello my beloved readers! Thank you so much for all of your reviews...even if over half of them were threats to poor, unhappy Christine. I did get lots of sympathy for Erik. No sympathy for Raoul who was half dead, though... Oh well. I tried.
This chapter isn't the most fun to read, but it was necessary. It sets things up nicely for later on. As far as Erik goes...well...he isn't in it. Sorry. Please read and review anyway, though! Reviews make me write faster! And the next two chapters... jump jolly high! (I'm hyper this evening. Too much Easter candy)
Christine could only stand by and wearily watch as the Vicomte de Chagny drifted in and out of sleep over the next week. The wound to his head was severe, likely caused by a heavy, metal object, but Doctor Murrell gave him a very good chance of surviving it. Though his arm was slightly fractured, the rest of the injuries were primarily small scrapes and bruises. All in all, the recovery would simply take time...time that happened to be very precious to a worried Christine.
It certainly did not help matters that the sound of her voice was often what awoke Raoul in those first few days at the hospital. When she would come into the room and speak softly with one of the nurses, his blue eyes would open, and he would call out to her longingly from the bed. Guilt enveloped her soul, and she would always feign a smile and hold his hand as he talked of their future life out of Paris together.
A week after her stay, Doctor Murrell finally made the decision to have her casting removed. Really it was the best news that she had heard in quite some time. As much as she desired to get to Erik, the task was more or less impossible when she could not even walk...not unless she wanted to crawl her way through the dank cellars. She knew without a doubt that he had returned to the dark catacombs. He would not go to the house without her.
She did not regret her decision to go with Raoul that night. No one deserved to be so cruelly abandoned on the brink of death, especially someone who had tried to do so much for her. Christine had no doubt that he would have died for her if the time ever called for it. Secondly, it was not fair to her and Erik to spend their lives worrying that Raoul would one day bring the police to their doorstep. Really, she should have told her friend from the beginning that she no longer wished to marry him. Running away from Raoul had not been the answer. Yet she somehow doubted that Erik had been given enough compassion in his life to understand her decision. She could only pray that he would.
There was almost no discomfort as they carefully unwrapped her foot. As they took the final bandages off, she felt an unfamiliar rush of cold air touch her skin. She stared down at her foot in disdain, seeing that it had become purple and wrinkly after being covered for so long. Gingerly she moved her leg.
"You shall have to grow accustomed to walking on it again," said the doctor kindly. "Within a couple of weeks, though, you should be back to normal. I shall give you crutches to help." She nodded her gratitude, determined to be back on her feet as soon as possible. As she propped herself upward on the crutches for the first time, she felt slightly more in control of her life. If only she could finally tell Raoul what she needed to say.
Several days later, as she was slowly making her way to the Vicomte's room, she was startled to see two uniformed policemen exit. They nodded toward her as they made their way down the corridor before going back to comparing the notes that they had scribbled down. With concern, she opened the door and made her way into the room. Raoul was sitting up in the bed, looking tired but in better health. Much of the color had returned to his face.
"Good morning," she said softly as she came in. Christine hesitated a moment. "What was that about?"
He looked uncomfortable. "I...was giving them a description of the men who did this. They should be apprehended soon, as I was able to tell the police of the exact location where they work. I suppose that the crooks thought that they had done away with me." Christine gave him a confused look, and he softly patted the chair next to the bed.
With a sigh, she came to the bedside. "Raoul, what on earth did you do to yourself? Please tell me."
He averted his eyes. "I was so afraid for us, Christine. That madman had been tormenting us for so long that I was worried for my life and for your safety. I guess I was desperate."
"What? What did you do?"
"The police were not helping, and I was wanted to be rid of the monster. I am afraid I got involved with some men who did not have our best interests at heart, to say the least. They told me that they had…ridded us of him." She stared at him curiously for a moment, slowly piecing together the many events of the last weeks in her mind. Erik's words came back to her. He had called his death a convenient accident.
"Oh Raoul! You tried to have him killed? And those men...they tricked you somehow, didn't they?"
"Yes. I am afraid that is so."
"Why would you do something like that? It is murder! And it is dangerous..." She stared at him wide-eyed before placing her head into her hands in frustration. It was really a miracle that anyone had survived the last several weeks. Thank God the men that he had hired had not been honest in their work.
Raoul rested his head back down on the pillow in defeat. "I know, Christine. It was foolish, and then when I saw that you were gone... I just...I wish..."
"Hush. Never mind. It is over, and you are alive, thank God."
"And you are safe, Christine. We shall not deal with the damned Phantom and the criminals that run this city any longer. We shall get out of Paris and not return for a very long time." He grabbed her hand at that moment, and she could only look at him tiredly. After a moment, his eyes started to close, and he drifted off to sleep again. She knew that the time had finally come to tell him. That night, she would say goodbye.
During the rest of the morning and the afternoon, Christine carefully planned her words to Raoul. She wanted to let him know that there was indeed someone else in her life. At the same time, she did not want to explain Erik to him. There was no way that he would understand if she told him she was deeply in love with the Phantom...or as Raoul liked to refer to him...the monster...the madman. No. It was best to say her goodbyes and leave her old friend with no worries.
That night, with her heart pounding rapidly, Christine made her way down the long corridor slowly. To the doctor's surprise, she had quickly regained the use of her foot, doing the strength exercises he had shown her as frequently as possible. Though she still moved very slowly, she had only needed the crutches for a few days. She was finally standing on her own two feet...in perhaps more ways than one.
Cautiously, she approached Raoul's bedside. Suddenly, though, her mind went completely blank, and she let in a sharp intake of air. Raoul had a visitor. With a slight glare, Christine continued to walk forward, avoiding the gaze of the young man who stood next to the side of the Vicomte's bed.
"Mademoiselle Daae!" exclaimed Monsieur Ames with a small smile. "So nice to see you again."
