Chapter Summary: Raoul brings his family home for their safety even as his two youngest children drift further and further away. The tensions also begin to take a toll on his relationship with Christine.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The arrival of the haunting gifts from an unknown presence had taken the loving world that Raoul and Christine had created for themselves and turned it upside down and inside out. The long years they had spent putting their past and their fears away were now seemingly in vain as old shadows and ghosts moved into their home and the lives of their family. The echoes of the past made themselves known from every dark corner, through every strange sound and Raoul watched helplessly as his family began to fall apart.

He had asked his older sons, Jean-Paul and Richard, to move their families from their own townhouses in Paris to the family residence just outside the city. He had done it partly out of concern for their safety as Raoul knew that, if the person sending the cruel presents was truly Erik, he would not just stop at one member of his family. Raoul had known he would not rest easy unless he knew exactly where his family was at all times. So his sons had brought their families home and now they spent most of their time behind the closed doors of their rooms, speaking in whispers, trying to hold onto some semblance of normality in their marriages. The other reason as to why he had done such a thing was to have Bertrand and Chloe, the grandchildren, in the same house as Christine in the hope that their happy faces and carefree innocence would bring the smile back to her face.

After the arrival of the rose and the telling of the truth to her children, Christine had withdrawn into herself. It seemed to Raoul that she had reverted to the frightened girl he had first married. She was pale and drawn, barely able to touch her food. Christine had insisted that no more candles be lit and every room she entered - whether morning, noon or night - she would turn on the gas lamps. Raoul had had to explain to his children that the candles reminded their mother of being in The Phantom's lair where hundreds of candles would blaze day and night. It was also why their mother would open draperies wide and check for locked windows and doors; she was always trying to escape from that dark place. There had been more than once when Raoul had awoken in the night to find her gone from their bed, wandering the hallways and humming to her self. She often hummed, barely speaking anymore except to make sure that her daughter was in the house. The only things that could bring back the wife Raoul so loved were two-year old Bertrand and three-month old Chloe.

Bertrand, with his red hair and big blue eyes, loved his grandmother and would sit by her side for hours babbling the nonsense that made perfect sense to every two-year old. He loved to play peek-a-boo with Christine, always laughing when she uncovered her eyes. He would pick an object from whatever room he was in with his grandmother and insist - very loudly - "Story, Grammer!" Little Bertrand, so full of the wonder and joy of life, was one of the few things that could bring the smile back to Christine's face.

Tiny Chloe, so much a de Chagny with her brown hair and blue eyes, was more likely to bring a wistful smile to Christine's face as she cradled the infant in her arms. Chloe looked at the world with the serious, studious gaze of every infant and Christine remembered when her own children were that small and had the same look in their eyes. Chloe, so small and sweet, knew nothing of the turmoil around her and was content to rest in the arms of any who would cuddle her, blowing bubbles, making the baby noises that every mother cherishes. Grateful prayers went up to Heaven as Raoul would watch Christine with Chloe or Bertrand and catch glimpses of the woman to whom he had been married for nearly twenty-five years.

The other greatest pulls on Raoul's emotions, outside of Christine, were his two youngest children. Gustave would spend all day sulking and picking fights with the nearest person until he grew tired of the game at which point he would find the nearest bottle of wine. More often than not, Raoul would find his youngest son sitting in a chair in some corner, a barely touched bottle of wine on the table next to him, a glass smashed against the opposite wall. Gustave may have been slipping into his own dark hole but at least he was not drinking himself into it.

Annalise was not faring any better. She was polite, almost too polite, to everyone around her. It was as if she was trying to compensate for all the pain that had suddenly invaded her world. She would constantly check on all her family to make sure that there was nothing they needed or that she could do for them. Annalise no longer asked to leave the house and she had begun refusing all the letters that had been sent to her. She would just hover over her family or sit quietly in a corner, wracked by demons her family could not even begin to imagine. Raoul despaired as he watched as his bright, sparkling daughter began to turn into an old nursemaid before his eyes.

"We cannot go on like this!" he told Christine after suffering through four days of the sulking and the tears, the nightly walks and the frigid politeness. "We are going to tear ourselves apart!"

"You promised," his wife said in a soft voice as she stared out the library window.

"What?" Raoul had not heard what she said.

Christine turned around to face him. "You promised to guard me. You promised to guard my daughter." Raoul took two steps towards her and stopped when she held up her hands. "Don't," she warned. "Just don't. Everyone promises me things and no one ever keeps their promises!"

"I am doing everything I know how to do! But how am I to fight a ghost?"

"You. Promised." Christine emphasized the words.

They stared at each other, alone in their anger and fear.

Raoul finally broke the silence. "You should have let him kill me that night," Raoul told her. "I have never been able to fight the hold he has on you and now he is taking my family." He shook his head. "I would rather he finished me with one quick jerk of a rope then to have him slowly tear me apart. I love you and I love our children but I cannot go on like this. You cannot go on like this. None of us can go on like this! I will not allow it; not when I know how to stop it." He shrugged his shoulders. "I remember hearing in school that surrender is always painful and seldom wise but that there are times when it is the prudent thing to do. So I surrender. He wins." Raoul turned to walk out the door and was surprised when Christine grabbed him and whirled him around.

"How can you say that to me after all I did for you?" She shouted at him. "I was ready to give him everything I had to give to save your life! I would have gone to his bed to keep you alive! I loved you that much! How dare you stand there and say I should have let you die! How dare you!" Christine then did something she had never done in her life; she reached up and slapped her husband.

They both stood, face-to-face, in stunned silence. Christine finally threw her hands up to her face and turned from her husband. Raoul reached out a hand for her shoulder and she shrugged him off.

"Oh God," Christine breathed through her hands. "Don't touch me."

Raoul ignored his wife, taking her by the shoulders, turning her to face him and pulling her hands away from her face. "Christine, look at me." He touched her face. "Open your eyes and look at me!" Raoul watched as Christine opened her eyes; they were full of shock and tears. "I deserved that." Now it was his turn to look away. "Even now, after all this time, Erik still has the ability to manipulate us. I have been fighting him in one form or another for all of our lives together." Raoul shook his head sadly. "I would rather give you up, give up the children and grandchildren I love, than to see all of you in this much pain. I cannot bear watching all of you die a little each day." He raised his eyes to look at her. "You are not the only one who would give everything to save the ones you love."

Christine studied her husband closely. She had never known he felt the need to fight Erik after the night he had set them free. Why had she not known? Had the two of them been living such separate lives for all these years? Christine was not sure she was ready for the answer. There was one thing of which she was sure and it was that she loved the man standing in front of her. He had been willing to give up his life for her once and was ready to do it again. She was not sure she would be able to find the words to convey what was in her heart.

"Raoul," she said as she reached a hand to his cheek. She smiled when he did not flinch. "Please do not go. I need you with me for I cannot do this alone." She put out her arms and drew him close, whispering into his ear. "You are my strength. You are my steady rock. You are my refuge and you were and will always be my salvation. Oh God, I love you! Please ..." her voice broke, "please do not go."

Christine felt her husband's arms go around her and the intense need of his embrace took her breath away. She was not sure how long they stood there, locked in each other's arms, before Raoul finally drew back.

"We have to give our children back their lives," Raoul began and was stopped with a gentle finger on his lips.

"I know," Christine told him, the fear still in the back of her eyes. "I know. Would it be so horrible, though, for Jean-Paul and Richard to remain here? I enjoy the company of Therese and Leonie and I do not think I want to let my grandchildren go just yet."

"I think I can manage that one." Raoul did not look forward to the next subject. "You know that the party for the American ambassador is tomorrow night?"

"I know," Christine replied in a small voice.

"We have to let them go, Christine. We cannot keep them locked away forever. Gustave is turning into a sullen stranger." Raoul shook his head. "And Annalise - I cannot bear to see her this way. My beautiful, vibrant daughter is gone and I do not know the person who took her place. They are young and our fears are turning them old before their time. We need to let them go."

"But what if I cannot?" There was a note of panic in Christine's voice. "What if he is out there in the shadows? What if he takes her?"

"Christine," Raoul started and stopped. How could he could he convince his wife to let their children leave the safety of their home when he shared her fears and apprehensions? Yet it was far worse to watch as the very same children were destroyed by those fears. "Christine," he began again, "in spite of everything, you and I have trusted each other with our lives for all these years. Now we need to find it in ourselves to take that trust and give it to our children. I am as frightened for them as you but it frightens me more to see how our lack of trust is destroying them."

"It is not our children I do not trust, Raoul; it is what is out there waiting that I do not trust. It terrifies me to think what could ... what might ..." Christine looked at her husband in panic. "I can't do this."

"You must," Raoul told her. "You have got to trust that Gustave will keep Annalise from harm. You have got to trust that our people will keep both of them safe from any shadows that may be lurking. And you have got to trust your children." He reached out to touch her cheek. "Christine, we cannot protect them forever."

"Yes, we can. We have to do so!"

"Christine," Raoul tried again.

"Raoul," she pleaded.

"We need to let them have their lives back."

Christine closed her eyes and wrestled with the tears that were threatening to start again. How could she let her only daughter leave the safety of home when Christine knew what might be waiting for Annalise? How could she take such a great risk? Then Christine opened her eyes and looked at her husband and thought of what he had said. She had not been so wrapped up in her own fearful memories that she had not noticed the change in her children; the change in her daughter.

"I know that I need to do this," Christine acknowledged as she gripped her husband's lapels. "But Gustave is going to need to promise me that he will not let his sister out of his sight for the entire evening. He is going to have to swear to me that he will do that! Raoul, you will have to make him swear!"

Raoul placed his hands over the ones that gripped his jacket so tightly. "I will make him swear." His look grew gentle. "You know our children would do anything for you." He removed the hands that held him, raising one of them to his lips. "I will go and find Annalise and Gustave. I think you will make them both very happy." He turned to walk out the door.

"But at what price?" Christine whispered to herself as she turned to look out the windows, wrapping her arms about her waist, fighting the urge to begin humming again.

"You wanted to see us, Mother?" a female voice asked.

Christine turned to see her youngest son and daughter entering the room followed by their father and something in her heart sank. Raoul had been right. The change in her children was even more drastic than Christine had been able to notice through her fear. She almost did not recognize the two young people who stood in front of her with such somber expressions.

"Oh my God, have I done that?" she wondered.

"Your mother and I have something to tell you," Raoul said as he motioned for his children to have seats.

"I think I'll stand," Gustave said.

"You will be pleased to have a seat," his father told him.

It was a fight in which Gustave did not wish to engage, so he sat down next to his sister and watched as their father crossed the room to stand next to their mother.

"We know that there is a party tomorrow evening that both of you had made plans to attend," Raoul began. He watched as his son sighed and his daughter did nothing but look at the floor. "We want you to know that you are both free to attend." A slight smile crossed his face as the light returned to Gustave's eyes and Annalise actually raised her head.

"But you must promise me," Christine continued, "you must swear to me that you will stay close to each other." She looked at her son. "You cannot let your sister out of your sight the entire night. I need to know ... I need ..." her voice broke and Christine looked to her husband.

"We need to know that we can trust you each of you to have a care for the other. We need to know that you understand what could be at stake if," Raoul drew a deep breath, "if our suspicions are correct. We need to know that we can trust you."

Gustave reached out for his sister's hand and found it strangely cold. He squeezed it gently and was surprised when he felt Annalise return the gesture. "I promise," he said.

"You must swear to me," his mother told him.

"You have my word as a gentleman, Maman," Gustave told her as he stood.

"That is all we can ask," Raoul told him with a nod of approval. He was surprised when Annalise walked over, reached up and kissed his cheek. He was even more surprised to see a bit of a sparkle return to her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered before turning to her mother.

Christine looked at her daughter and saw something in her eyes that she could not define and there was something in the way that Annalise hugged her that gave Christine pause. "You will stay safe?" she asked as Annalise broke the embrace.

"I will be safe and I will be home after the party," Annalise told her mother. "I promise." She turned to her brother who held out his hand.

"Let's go and share the joy with everyone else," Gustave said with a wink.

"And when you are done sharing your joy, tell your brothers and their wives that we wish to speak with them," Raoul said and watched as his youngest children walked out the door, a bit lighter, perhaps, in their steps. He felt his wife grip his arm.

"What have I agreed to?" Christine asked him.

"Their futures," Raoul told her.

"I hope," he thought to himself.