I do not own Phantom of the Opera, I do own Jacques, Maria Lawley, Bernard Lawley and the numerous other oc's in Two Halves.
This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful singing teacher, Leanne...
I'd like to thank Regina for her wonderful help, as my beta, Thank you much!
Christine De Chagny. Beautiful, Charming, Sweet and loyal to that confounded husband of hers.
It was indeed a problem, one that would need to be fixed immediately.
The door to Christine's room was open, swinging gently, the light breeze spreading the room and lifting the curtains. The room was filled with snow white doilies and paintings of flowers, in the middle sat a large bed, with creamy sheets, stained with red.
Lying in the direct centre was an angel. A fallen angel with chocolate curls that framed her porcelain skin, her dark lashes upon her check, and her lips painted red. All colours it seemed had drained from her skin and the white lacy night dress that she wore rested about her. The morning was not a cold one, yet the angel on the bed was cold.
Ice cold.
The beautiful creature that had fluttered around the room just last night with a passionate energy, yet with rare grace, who'd greeted everyone with a smile and laughed and danced to her hearts content, now lay as still stone not an ounce of life in her.
Christine De Chagny was dead.
Her crimson blood had stained the sheets, her chest, for this angel had not left the world peacefully.
"No! Please! What are you doing?" The terrified sobs only made things worse for a glint of silver raised above her and then all there was pain, ever lasting pain, she could hear nothing, see nothing, feel nothing but pain.
She felt like screaming but found she could not, she cried out one last time "Erik… Angel."
The shadow looming above her stopped, she had not called for her husband?
One final stab and Christine spoke no more, her cry to Raoul had died upon her lips.
"Christine, My love, Are you awake…I've brought you breakfast... Christine?"
Foot steps sounded down the hall getting closer to the room, and then a silver tray clattered to the floor, the sound echoing.
Five Days Later….
The infant in Raoul De Chagny's lap wouldn't stop howling, crying out for a mother who would never comfort him again.
It had been a very emotionally exhausting time for them both, the police of course had numerous questions that needed to be asked, and answers that Raoul didn't have.
He'd stayed in his home, with his infant son Jacques, trying to pacify the boy in the best way he could, ignoring the immense sorrow he already felt at the loss of his wife.
His life now was just mess of emotions, he hadn't slept since he'd found her….. So beautiful even in death. He had contacted all those whom Christine was close too, knowing that through gossip and the papers all the rest would find out on their own.
His son was proving to be difficult, needing constant care; care that Raoul was not good at giving. He hadn't been apart of the baby's life much before, a chance kiss once or twice before rushing out the door.
Raoul had often been away, and had led a busy life, hardly having time for the boy, but knowing that Christine would love him and care for him enough for the both of them.
But now that Christine was….. He couldn't even bring himself to say it.
Tears of human anguish fell down his cheeks, and he did nothing to stop them, hugging Jacques to his chest, Raoul sobbed out his pain, and somewhere… far off… Angels wept.
Raoul had pulled himself together enough the next morning, to bathe himself and shave. He dressed in clean clothes and managed to dress Jacques as well.
He planned on paying a very Dear friend of Christine's a visit someone who would be more suited to taking care of Jacques for now, until he was ready to hire a nanny for the boy, and when Christine's funeral had been taken care of.
His stomach tightened at the thought, a funeral meant him accepting she was gone. And he was not ready to do that, but he had to, and he would.
He knew that leaving his son in the care of another might not be the best thing, but right now; it was the only thing that he could think of.
He raised a shaky hand to tap on the large oak doors of the Lawley Mansion.
Jacques struggled in his arms, and he eased him into a more comfortable position at his hip and then cleared his throat, tapping on the door a little louder.
Raoul heard the clicking of heels against timber then a muffled shout; he strained to hear what was being said, scolding himself for being nosy. He moved closer towards the sound almost able to understand what was being said-
The door swung open, startling both man and child standing there.
They were greeted by Maria Lawley, a thirty-something woman of Italian descent. She had large dark eyes, and tanned skin, long black hair that was held in place with elegant clips and nets. She wore an emerald colored gown, which swished as it brushed the floor.
She had a very decided appearance, and looked; it seemed to Raoul, that there was a strange glint in her eyes as they settled upon Jacques. The look made Raoul's mouth go dry, and he suddenly forgot why he was standing on her doorstep.
She'd looked quite dangerous and Raoul had half a mind to just turn around and keep walking. But the look disappeared and was replaced by the kind woman that he remembered.
"Monsieur De Chagny, Welcome, please come in," She said kindly, reaching out and arm and beckoning him into her own.
The second he stepped in the door and he knew who had decorated. Dark curtains hung off the windows and a rug the colour of her dress on the timber floors. Dark oak cabinets stood behind her.
The one thing that seemed slightly odd in the house was a chandelier that hung from the ceiling, it was lit, making everything seem bright, yet the room itself seemed to scream for darkness.
"I am so sorry for you loss Monsieur… Christine was a very Dear friend to me…." She spoke the words with sincerity but something else lay underneath the words, something that Raoul could not quite decipher.
"Madame, I have come to ask for a favor. I… I need some time to properly mourn for my beloved wife and I do not see myself fit to take care of Jacques, for I am a man drowning in my sorrows, Madame and the boy should not have to suffer for that," He paused, and Maria waited patiently for him to continue.
"I would ask this of you, only because I know that Christine was very fond of you, and that she would trust you to take care of her son… our son…"
Maria's eyes lit up and she smiled, "Of course, Monsieur." She reached out and Raoul placed Jacques in her waiting arms "He will be wonderfully taken care of with us; you needn't worry about him at all. As soon as you are ready Monsieur, you may return."
Raoul nodded and weariness seeped from his body. "Thank you Madame, Thank you so very much." He took her free hand and pressed a kiss to it swiftly, then departed from the door, leaving a small suitcase behind him.
He was in a hurry that much was certain.
Marie looked at the boy in her arms and bounced him a few times, delighting in his giggles.
She smiled warmly, and then panic ripped through her.
A silver tear glistened at the corner of her eye, but she brushed it aside quickly, shaking her head as if to rid it of a horrible thought and then focused her attention on the giggling infant.
"Bernard… Bernard!" She called sharply, not wishing to speak with her husband, but knowing that she must.
Her husband appeared at the door. His black hair was speckled with grey and fell into his eyes. His eyes were blue, but red rimmed and it was apparent he had not slept for a few days.
He staggered into the room and Maria instantly stilled. He'd been drinking… again.
"Bernard… This is Jacques…. Christine De Chagny's son" She said pointedly, each word piercing.
Bernard gasped. "What have you done woman! What have you done!"
Raoul who still stood on the steps of the Lawley's mansion, heard a somewhat smothered version of the conversation that played out inside.
"Murdered…… Christine De Chagny… You murdered ….. accepted her child!" He stumbled down the bottom step.
He didn't know who was speaking, but fear gripped him. The look in Maria's eye when she had seen Jacques sent Raoul into a spinning, shocking revelation. He felt a very dire need to turn around and kill the woman inside.
Maria Lawley had killed Christine… Had butchered his beautiful Christine. But he knew that he would never find the courage to do a thing about it, and he knew there was one person who would. Who'd bring justice for Christine?
As he climbed into his private carriage he ordered the driver in a low deadly tone. "To the Old Paris Opera House. "
"The one that burned down sir?" The driver asked obviously shocked.
"Yes," he said in a brusque tone. "That is where I wish to go. Hurry."