Erik silently wiped the remaining blood off of Christine's face and put the rags away. His heart was heavier than it had been in months and his eyes refused to close for fear that Christine might die. To think that he had almost killed her… Erik felt like his own world would end if she did.
Christine stirred, but did not open her eyes due to a light pressure on them. Her head was throbbing and her body ached, though she knew not why. What had happened? The only thing that she was able to recall was a lot of light. Were they having a performance? Did she trip and fall? The light…something about the light… Christine's head began to hurt more and she decided to stop thinking. At least until the headache went away. She relaxed and drifted into sleep.
Erik felt Christine relax under his touch and felt her warm breath on the palm of his hand. He said a silent prayer to whatever deity there might be that she will get better soon. Erik understood that some wounds will leave a scar, but none, thank god, on her face. Still though, every scar on her body was a curse upon his. It was his fault entirely and he accepted it. Erik gently moved a stray curl from her face and removed the cloth that he had put over her eyes. A small bead of blood formed over her left brow and he wiped it away. For the first time in his life, Erik truly felt terrible.
"What an event at the Opera House! Have you heard, dear brother?" Philippe asked Raoul.
"Well, of course! It's all over the papers and the markets!" replied Raoul. "A chorus girl disappeared, did she not?"
"Yes, some girl by the name of ...of… Now, what was her name? Daae? Yes, Christine Daae."
Raoul froze. "Christine?"
"What are you so suddenly worried about, bro?"
Raoul regained his posture and hid his emotions. After all, everyone did these days. It was only safe.
"No, nothing." he replied, and grinned at Philippe as if to reinforce his statement. But Philippe would not buy it. He knew his brother all too well because he too was a Chagny.
"Oh, Raoul! I had no idea!" Philippe broke into a fit of laughter. So, he had Sorelli and Raoul had Christine. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"If you weren't my brother, I would put a sword through your heart, dear Philippe."
Philippe laughed harder. Raoul was a Chagny after all.
Raoul wasn't laughing though. When Philippe mentioned Christine, his heart must have skipped several beats. He remembered her clearly, the little girl with a red scarf. They were the best of friends in their childhood, and now she was apparently working at the Opera. Raoul wondered if Christine even remembered him. Probably not, though he hoped she did. He politely excused himself and went into his room. Christine was missing and here he was doing nothing about it. What kind of friend was he? Somehow he had to figure out a way to get into the deeper halls of the Opera House without rising suspicion. There must be a way… Then he had it. He will become a patron, he will convince Philippe to do for him. Yes, Raoul though, that is what I'll do.
"I'll get it for you!" a little boy shouted and ran into the sea after her red scarf. She watched him go in anticipation. The seas were dangerous and she was half expecting him to drown. But the Boy came out alive, holding the soaked scarf, he himself drenched.
"Get you inside, you insolent boy!" an elderly lady shouted at him, but he only laughed and ran away from her.
"What's your name?"
"Raoul." he said, handing her the scarf. There was a small blush on his cheeks and he hid his face, embarrassed.
…
…
…
"You found me again!" he said, pretending to be offended.
"It's your turn to look for me." she replied in return.
"No fair!"
She ran and hid behind a gravestone.
"I'm coming!" she heard Raoul say. Minutes passed, and he was still not able to find her.
"Christine? I know where you are." he teased her. "Christine?" She didn't reply.
"Christine? Christine? Christine!"
Christine's eyes flew open and she stared up at a white face. No, not a face, a mask. She was so startled that she must have jumped up because a sudden pain shot up through her head and down her spine. Christine winced and fell back. The memory of Raoul's face floated before her. It was only a dream, nothing more. She opened her eyes again and looked at the man sitting before her. He was very strange looking. There was a mask on his face that matched the color of his shirt. Was he one of the cast members? Her hand tentatively reached for the mask, but the man pulled away.
"No, Christine. Please, not yet." he said hoarsely. The voice sounded strangely familiar. It was soft despite its harshness.
"Who are you?" Christine asked. She was surprised at how weak her voice sounded.
"Rest, Christine. When you are well, you can go back." replied the man. Christine did not argue and, longing to see Raoul's face again, drifted back to sleep. Erik watched her for a little while then left.
Strange, the thought, he didn't even care about anything else right now. Not even his organ. His organ. Erik looked at the instrument, sitting there unused for many days now. He struck a note and it filled his chamber. He played another one, and before he knew it, the music was everywhere. This was his world, his happiness. Why did he ever get involved with Christine? She was beautiful and trusting and loving, yes, she also had a great voice. But what was all that to him? He got on just fine with only his music and his Box Five seat before. What was the matter now?
But Erik knew what was the matter. Christine offered him love, something he had been denied all his life. At least he thought she did.
Erik stopped playing. His elbows struck a few random notes and he hid his face in his hands. He was going mad. He was losing his mind and all over Christine. Was it worth it? Even for love? If she really loved him, he would be the happiest of men, but what if she rejected him when she saw what he really was, what he looked like, every one did. He couldn't risk his sanity for that. Better bring Christine back and be done with it all. Perhaps it would be best for them both. Erik took out his Don Juan opera he had been working on and began to play it.
When Christine woke up, she found herself back in her own room with no recollection of the past few days. She had a small headache, but nothing that bothered her too much, and an itch above her left brow. Her hand went up to scratch it but was met with a bandage. Surprised, Christine went to the mirror to look at it. But on the mirror she found something else. A small note was attached to it, written in red. She detached and read it.
Be more careful in the future.
More careful in the future? Who was this from? Christine looked at the bandage above her brow and gently touched it, then took it off. An angry red line ran above her eye. Then something flashed in her mind. The light! She remembered what the light was. It was the chandelier. It fell almost on top of her. Christine looked back at her reflection and the memories of the last two days returned. They were having a performance when it fell, and when it landed before her feet she must have lost consciousness. Then there was this man with a white mast. He was very strange, yet she felt like she knew him. Something about him felt familiar. The man didn't answer her when she asked and she was unable to persist due to the tiredness. Maybe she will ask around.
Another thought then presented itself in Christine's mind. She had not spoken to her Angel. Panic set in her chest as she called out to him. In response, the door flew open and a young man rushed in, calling back her own name.
A/N: Yes! Raoul is BACK! BWAHAHA!I just think the story is more interesting with him.
