Author's notes: Sorry this has taken so long, and sorry it's such a short one too. But to make up for thatm I'm posting two chapters at the same time, hope you like them. Thanks so much for the reviews, they really made my day lol Keep'em coming!

Part I

Raoul woke with a start and sat up in his bed. He remembered! He remembered that fatal night in The Phantom's lair, remembered every word spoken, every expression shown, every move made. He even remebered his dream from tonight, and what'd happened when the dream ended.

He'd ran through the water, swam when it'd become too deep, untill he'd reached the shore. People from the Opera had been standing there, unable to cross the lake without a boat. They'd pulled him out of the water and placed him on the hard stone of the dock, and then they'd started asking him questions, all at the same time. Raoul had felt his body go numb, a peaceful darkness lowering itself over his mind. From somewhere far away, he'd heared a woman yell.

"Let him be, you bastards, can't you see he's tired? François, Claude! Lift him and carry him upstairs!"

Raoul had been lifted up by strong arms and carried away. He'd wanted to thank the yelling woman, but the fearful events of the night had taken out their rights, and he'd fallen into unconsciousness.

When he'd come around again, he'd been lying in a bed, and someone had been cooling his forehead with a soaked towle. He'd slowly opened his eyes and seen Meg Giry sit beside him, holding the towle.

"Oh, you are awake again, Monsieur le Vicomte. How are you feeling?" Her eyes had been filled with concern as she'd put a cool hand on his forehead. "The fever is gone anyway." She'd rose from her chair and smoothed her skirts. "Can I get you anything, sir?"

Raoul had tried to say he'd like something to drink, but his voice had only been a hoarse whisper.

"Drink," he'd managed to say, and then he'd closed his eyes in embarrassment.

"Oh, I am so sorry, I should have thought about that before. What would you like? Water?"

Raoul had nodded, and then he'd heared the rustle of Meg's skirts as she'd went to get him the water.

When she'd come back, she'd helped him put pillows behind his back so he'd been able to sit up and drink. The water had made his voice come back, and he'd asked: "Where am I?"

"You are in Maman's appartment in the Opera. It was not harmed by the fire, so we thought it best to bring you here."

Raoul's memory hadn't been working as it should, and, confused, he'd asked: "The fire?"

Meg had nodded and sat down on her chair by his bed.

"Yes, the crash of the chandelier made the seats in the auditorium catch fire."

"Was...was anyone hurt?" Raoul had thought Meg to be strangely calm, but her eyes had been very sad, shining with tears.

"Yes, the people who were sitting immediately under the chandelier lost there lives, and..."

"How many?" Raoul had interrupted.

"22, sir. May their souls rest in peace," she'd added, crossing herself. "And many others were hit by flying glass and material from the roof and so on, and some people got burns. And of course poor Señor Piangi."

Raoul had known that The Phantom had taken Piangi's place in Don Juan Triumphant, but when he'd run after Christine, he'd forgotten everything else. He hadn't wanted to think about what The Phantom might have done to Piangi, but, still, he'd asked Meg how Señor Piangi was doing, hoping that the answer would be he was fine. But Meg had sighed, wiping a tear from her cheek.

"He isn't at all, the poor man. The snare they found him hanging in had broken his neck. He was beyond all saving. La Carlotta is devastated, I think she actually loved him."

Raoul had lent back against the pillows, closing his eyes. These were bad news. The Phantom's merciless hunt for Christine had gotten worse consequences than anyone had ever thought. How will this opera ever recover? Raoul thought darkly.

With an effort, he'd composed himself, opening his eyes and looking at Meg.

"Is there anything else I should know? What damage was made to the Operahouse?"

Meg had lent forward, resting her arms on the bed. "All though it is not as bad as it could have been, it is still very bad. The chandelier, of course, we will never be able to repair. Every single seat in the auditorium will have to be changed, because those that were not harmed by the fire are covered in aches, or were destroyed by the firemen's water. The stage-curtains caught fire and will also have to be changed. But, thankfully, the fire never reached the stage itself, or the rest of the theater. I do not know that much about money, Monsieur, but I imagine this will not cost as much as we first thought." She had looked at her hands. "But there are some bad news as well."

As if I haven't heared enough bad news for one day, Raoul'd thought. But he'd wanted to hear everything, even if it ment he'd go insane.

"Please continue, Meg," he'd said.

"We have had a great loss on staff, Monsieur. Almost half the members of the chorus and the corps de ballet have handed in their resigns, and we've lost both out leading tenor and soprano, and..." She'd abruptly stopped talking when she'd realized what she'd said. "I am so sorry, Monsieur, I was not thinking, please..."

But Raoul had held up a hand, which broke her off midsentence.

"I am still not feeling very well, Meg. I think I need rest. Will you be so kind as to leave me alone for a couple of hours, and making sure nobody disturbs me?"

Meg had nodded and risen from her chair, understanding what he didn't say.

"If you need me, I will be outside, Monsieur." And with that, she left the room, silently closing the door behind her.