A/N: I'm still a little iffy about this chapter… but I've been working on it for more than two weeks, so I suppose this is the best I'll do. Also… I'll give you a cookie if you can spot the unintentional line from Pirates of the Caribbean and the intentional line from Man in the Iron Mask.
Meghankatherine: I know… I feel really bad for him, too:(
angel of the stage: What, did you think the summary sucked or something? lol! Also, in the Kay book, Erik uses a needle to shoot the morphine into his veins. And don't worry, this is the second to last chapter. :claps hand over mouth: oops… did that just slip out?
Emily singing reflection: No worries!
PhantomsHeart: Try going to a smaller video rental place…. the local Blockbuster here doesn't have it, but a smaller rental store does. I saw a poster for it in the window as we drove by, and I shrieked out loud and nearly made my mom run off the road…
Nekona: Well hello, hello! Glad to see I'm not on the "wankable" list. Well, I'm sure there are some wankable lines… as there are in all fics…
erik'sangel527: I'm amazed I have so many reviews… but I'm so grateful for them!
NinetalesLuver: Well I'm very "into" the 19th century, so I already knew the details… but thanks! I dislike reading fics where there's an overload of historical inaccuracies.
Arwen1604: Wow, long review! But thank you so much for everything you said!
Chapter 26Raoul merely stood and stared. Erik's grip on Christine's hand grew tighter, and she was aware of a slight lift in his chin, a straightening of his back as Raoul gaped at them soundlessly.
Christine sat frozen, as if molded to the stone bench, adrenaline needling through her veins, her pulse drumming in her ears. She was broken from her stupor when Erik dropped her hand and rose to his feet.
"Well well, we meet once more, Monsieur le Vicomte." He spat the words like they were poisonous. Raoul's eyes grew larger, if such a thing were possible.
"Y-you – " Raoul stammered, staring at him in disbelief. "You're supposed to be dead!"
Erik spread his hands. "An unfortunate oversight on your part, Chagny. The men you picked for the task, although clearly eager to dispose of a monster such as myself, were young and incompetent and obviously found it unnecessary to check that their 'prisoner' was… fully dead."
As Erik spoke, Raoul's stunned expression twisted to one of anger, dismay… and hurt. "Christine…"
Christine's insides wrenched at the sight of his face, and she stood, stretching one arm out to him helplessly. "Raoul, I – "
"It's him!" Raoul declared desperately, "He's put a spell on you, he has done it again… Christine…" But he was making excuses, and it was obvious to all three that he knew it. His desperate words of denial trailed off and he gritted his jaw forcefully, but Christine could see it tremble.
"Oh, Raoul…" her voice quavered unsteadily and she forced back tears. God, what had she done? She moved to go to him, but Raoul took several steps back.
"That man – " he jabbed a shaking finger at Erik. "He has ruined everything! Heaven only knows what he does; it's his voice, that unnatural voice, it enslaves you somehow, I've seen it!"
"Monsieur, you are talking like a madman." Erik's voice cut through the night air. "I assure you she is with me of her own free will, and I exert no hold over her."
"It isn't true." Raoul drew himself up to his full height, eyeing Erik contemptuously. "She cannot love you. How can a woman love a mask?"
"I wear the mask," Erik said scornfully, "It does not wear me."
"He's a murderer." Raoul's show of bravado was slipping now, the fearless pretense contradicted by the desperation in his eyes. "Buquet, Piangi… who knows how many others! You have seen him kill, Christine!"
"I know, Raoul." To her surprise, her voice came out strong and clear, belying her inner turmoil. "That was in the past, and now – "
"In the past? It was mere months ago! You forget how afraid you were of him, how frightened you were that he would spirit you away…" His tone was almost childishly frantic now, and, looking at him, Christine could easily see that little boy who had run into the sea to fetch her scarf.
Raoul laughed despairingly. "You were terrified! Maybe someday he will turn on you, and your fears would not have be for nothing – "
"You are making a grave mistake in insinuating that I would ever hurt Christine," Erik interrupted, his eyes flashing. "I suggest you cease and desist your ranting." Despite his cold words, Christine could see a touch of pity in his eyes. But her attention was torn away once more.
"I am going," Raoul cried, tearing off his little mask and flinging it to the ground. "I am going to fetch the gendarmes… somebody! This man must be locked away."
"No, Raoul!" Christine cried, running towards him and grabbing at his arm. "Please, don't go!"
"Why not? Why shouldn't I? It's obvious that this man is dangerous – " His voice cracked. "And even more obvious that I'm not wanted here." Raoul threw off her hand and stalked away through the maze.
Tears choked Christine's throat, and she whirled around to face Erik. "He was my dearest friend… and now I've hurt him," she whispered. "What… what do I do?"
Erik just watched her, emotions playing over his face. "That decision is in your hands, not mine." He was at her side in a moment, turning her towards the direction Raoul had gone. "Go to him, Christine."
His lips were at her ear suddenly. "And remember – I will come for you."
She turned to him but he had gone, disappeared into shadows like an apparition in the night.
She wanted to fling herself on the bench and weep and sort out her frantically racing thoughts, but there was no time for hysterics and she picked up her skirts and hurried through the maze, calling Raoul's name.
She caught up to him before he entered the manor and she dashed in front of him, lungs heaving for air.
"Raoul, Raoul," she cried after she had caught her breath, "I wish I had found the courage to tell you the truth!"
He met her eyes, staring at her in disbelief. "Christine, how... how could you?"
Instead of the anger she had been expecting, his face was devoid of the rage of only moments before, and was replaced by an expression of anguish and wounded betrayal. His uncharacteristic hostility had been only a façade.
His face and words tore at her conscience and, at that moment, she felt most deserving of every sharp pang of guilt. "I don't know," she said tremulously, "I just… I just couldn't bring myself to! I didn't know if you would try to hurt Erik again – "
"Only to protect you," Raoul interrupted.
Christine pressed her hands to her mouth for a moment. "I just… what could I have said?"
"Christine – what a fool I've been." Raoul's straight shoulders sagged and he put his hand to his forehead.
"Oh, Raoul, I deserve the worst from you," she cried. "I should never have lied to you. I should have been truthful and spared you this horrible… revelation."
He pulled away from the doorway and took her hands. She saw a shimmer of tears in his eyes, reflected from the light spilling from the house, and she pressed her quavering lips together to hold back her own. "Raoul, forgive me, please forgive me…"
"Of course, Christine." His smile was small and wistful. "I could never begrudge you anything." She let out a cry of despair and threw her arms around him.
"I should've known," he continued, his voice a sad and desolate monotone. "I suppose I… I always knew. He was always there, lingering just below the surface of your thoughts, wasn't he? I thought very little about it then, but now…"
"But… if you knew, why didn't you say anything?"
Raoul shrugged despondently. "It was easier just to convince myself that you were suffering from the after effects of a horrible event. How wrong I was…"
"Oh, Raoul," she whispered. "I always was the silly Little Lotte, wasn't I?"
The pair both smiled in nostalgia. "And I know that a long time ago, we would have thought this such a grand adventure," Raoul replied.
Christine pressed her forehead to his. "You will find a wonderful wife, Raoul," she said softly. "Perhaps a sweet young debutante. And you'll be very happy together. I can see it now… a houseful of little Chagnys, running amok."
"I very much doubt that – I'm sure they will be kept in check by the indomitable nanny." He smiled wistfully again. "Christine, if you ever are in trouble… if you ever need anything… you know you can always find me."
Christine felt her eyes fill with tears. "Of course," she whispered. She pressed her lips to his cheek, and they embraced like a pair of innocent children who had most suddenly been introduced to the sorrows of the world.
"I love you, Raoul."
He kissed her curls. "I love you too, Lotte."