AN - Well I'm back, I went to my uncle's funeral this weekend, hence the lack of updates, but here's a super long one to tie everyone over. Also, has anyone else heard of Count of St. Germain? I just read a few things on him today. He seems SOOO interesting and very close in comparison about a few things. That is, from what I've read... I really think that would be an interesting cross-over plot ish fanfiction. Seriously, go look up this guy, I tried to post a link but every time I save the freaking file it disappears. Try going to and the adding this to the end of it,
tomslemen/countstgermain.html
Review time.
PucktoFaerie- I did know that Raoul had sisters, but for the sake of my story, I'm leaving them out. I know that's changing something major in the plot, but it really was only mentioned in the original story, and because this story has differences from the original already, I've decided to go ahead and use my artistic license. It really does help my plot near the end; sorry if that ruins anything for you. As for my words running together, that's this stupid uploading thing. I always make sure I do spell check before I upload, and then on the site things start to run... I admit I don't always check the chapter after it's been actually uploaded to the story sometimes. But a lot of the time I do.
Computerfreak101- Oh it's Meg's husband's child, didn't you read? Meg accepted Claude's proposal. At least, four years ago... so... that would be tons of time for Meg to make babies.
I Despise Raoul- Erik, when will you learn I'm an obstinate child who does not take kindly to threats? That is why we could never be true loves my dear, our fighting was horrendous. Anyways, here's a loooong chappie.
asingledarkcrimsonrose- me thinks you're just a bright little phan aren't you?
PhantomFan13- thanks!
Mini Nicka- I replied to everyone else, so I might as well say something to you, or it would be totally leaving you out. I'd kinda be choked if that happened to me. So... yes... cliffy's are good... but I suppose not so nice when I go away for at least 4-6 days.
Everyone else! Thanks for your support and reading!
WARNING: There is swearing and abuse in this chapter, therefore I'm moving my rating of the story higher. Also, I would love to hear EVERYONE'S opinion on sex within these stories and whether it degrades it or not.
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Confessions of the black widows.
It's a scandal that'll
pack 'em in the aisles!
"Your son?" Raoul said taken back. Had he really been gone that long for her to have already married and have a child? He didn't know what to think, what to feel about this information. Was she happy? Did he ever return at a terrible time, barging in on her life like this?
What had he expected? He did not love her, so why did he expect she would wait for him? There was no need for her to wait. He just never pictured her getting married and starting a family of her own. He never imagined anyone getting married and being happy after the sudden death of the ones he loved so true.
"My son, would you like to meet him? He is waiting for me in the cab." She said and began to walk in the direction of the only carriage left in the area.
Slowly Raoul picked up his feet and ventured towards his fate. He was most likely about to meet her husband as well. Did this man deserve her? Was he worth Meg's time and devotion? He would soon find out.
She stood by the door and waited for him to peer inside, however all he could see the child's plump little legs kicking back and forth hitting the seat making a faint bumping noise, for they did not extend to the bottom of the floor.
Finally taking a breath, Raoul looked in to see a beautiful blonde boy sitting by himself in blue formal wear. He wore a little white shirt underneath the suit and a cap to cover up his golden curls. He was staring out the opposite window into the sunlight before he turned and looked over to Raoul, revealing large blue eyes.
"Ello," The little boy said shyly.
"Hello," Raoul said in awe of the child. He had not been around one in so long he forgot that they could talk at this age.
"Where's maman?" Adrienne asked him.
"Right here precious." She said and Raoul moved out of her way so she could ascend into the carriage beside her son.
"Maman! Can we see grandmere?" He asked happily as she sat down.
The small request made Raoul's heart break. It seemed the young boy did not understand this Sunday outing. He looked over to Meg who didn't seem surprised by the request.
"Honey, I told you, we cannot go see grandmere anymore. Grandmere went to go live with the angels." She said placing him in her lap, leaving an empty space in the carriage.
"Angels." Adrienne repeated quietly.
"He doesn't understand yet... This has all been so very hard for him to deal with." She said and looked to the empty seat and back to Raoul.
"Do you need a ride anywhere Monsieur? As you can see we have enough room."
"Actually, I would not mind a ride, to where I have no idea though... wait, no, I do have an idea, why don't we go to the park?" He asked Adrienne only to get a large smile in return.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh... to see DUCKIES! May we maman? Please?" He said making the word please sound more like, "Peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease".
Meg looked at Raoul in surprise. "I had other plans, but how can I refuse you that love?" She said whispering into her son's ear. "All right, driver? Take us to the small park near the opera house."
( ' ) '
-
Those who speak
of what they know
find, too late, that prudent
silence is wise.
"He's beautiful Meg." Raoul said as they sat on the park bench in the warm afternoon.
Like Adrienne had said there were many ducks flying around and waddling towards the pond. The little boy waddled behind a family of the birds imitating them.
"I know." She said proudly watching him and fell into silence once more. She waited for Raoul to continue to try and make small conversation, but it was to no avail. The only sound that filled her ears were the sounds of her child's laughter and the ducks quacking. She figured that the man she hadn't seen in four years was waiting for an explanation.
Sighing, and wondering while she felt obligated to explain herself, she began her tale of woe.
"His name was Claude, he promised me a bright new future and love. He was poor; I knew it as well when we started together. However I couldn't help being drawn to his bumbling charm. He was the first man to ever notice me... really," The last word came out almost a whisper.
"What happened to this Claude?" He asked.
"He asked my hand in marriage, he was so sad. He said he had done many things wrong in his life, but I was the one thing he got right. He had always been haunted by something for he would cry out in sleep and I knew he had a horrible life. What he had done, I did not care, for I was in love. I couldn't refuse, so I said yes. Things were tight, but I still had my career as the Prima Ballerina in the Opera Populaire, so Claude and I wed. Well a bit after that, he began..."
Meg waited nervously for the door to open. She had stolen some face paint from the make up department again, so she could cover the large purple bruise her right cheek adorned. She had been practicing her speech to her husband over and over, terrified of how he'd react. She continued to set the table, and make sure everything was in order. He'd stop, she was sure of it… after all; he'd have to when he learned that she was with his child. Slowly she placed her hand on her unharmed stomach. He had never punched her there, she had been lucky many times, for if he had, she was sure they would not be having this child. Just then she heard loud footprints drawing closer, from their infrequent pattern she could tell he had been drinking. Rushed she smoothed down the folds of her dress, and scurried over to the door. It was best not to keep him waiting.
Meg didn't continue, she couldn't tell him of all the abuse she suffered. She couldn't let him know that Claude was the reason she would be no longer a dancer, but a teacher. Slowly he looked over to her and saw the tears swell in her eyes. She could see it dawned on him that she was reliving something very traumatic. Taking her hand in his, he urged her to continue, but she refused to tell him the truth.
"He began to get... withdrawn. At first it was little things, the lack of money we were making, the stress of his job at work and my long hours. After awhile, he didn't seem the same man."
"You stupid little bitch, did you really think I would believe that!" Claude screamed slapping Meg in the face once more. She could feel the blood in her mouth, the sting of her cheek, but she didn't remove her vice like grip on her own stomach, she refused to let him take that away from her.
"You've been out whoring yourself, haven't you? You don't fucking dance for the money, you wiggle that tiny little body of yours! Who's is it Meg! Who's Aristocrats bastard child are you having?" He asked, throwing her to the ground.
"It's yours Claude's," she sobbed in reply, "For Christ sake's its yours!"
He was quiet for a minute, like he was debating it. Her breathing was shallow, as she lay on the floor, and pain racked her entire frame, but still, he was quiet, and she knew that if she were to say anything now was her only chance.
"I told you because I wanted you to know… You needed to know… Why you can't do this anymore, because we could loose our baby. But now… well now I know you'll never stop!"
Suddenly he groaned in rage, and stomped on her ankle as hard as possible. Screams tore from Meg's mouth, her large and muscular husband had broken her right ankle, and on purpose. Through the haze of agony and tears she looked up at him.
"Fine, I'll leave you and your little bastard, tell them whatever you want… but know this, you'll never dance again."
"… It was only after I found his body, that we knew why he was so withdrawnThe doctor told me it was consumption, and he had probably been trying to spare me the pain. It was too much to bear; he never was able to meet his son. I didn't dance for quite sometime and the instant I returned I broke my ankle by some careless accident. Since then it's been hard for me to continue on as the Prima Ballerina. A young woman named Dominique Lefleur took over while I had the baby, and since then we have been sharing the title of Prima Ballerina."
When Meg woke, she was not sure what time it was, but that she had been out for quite some time. Her ankle screamed in pain and she looked down to see it bent at a peculiar angle. She called for him, begged that he help her to get to a doctor, but there was no answer. Knowing that it was such a tiny apartment, she crawled over to a wall, joining the two places. Strongly, she kept knocking. She could hear the people inside the other flat, but they continued to ignore her knock. She then crawled to the other wall and knocked. It wasn't long for the young man to knock on her door.
"Come in, please!" Meg cried exasperatedly. She wasn't surprised to see that he wasn't happy, but once he surveyed the situation, his look turned from annoyance to understanding.
"Where is he?" her neighbor demanded.
"I don't know… please, Etienne, get me to a doctor, I beg of you." She said to her young acquaintance.
Nodding he rushed over to her crumpled form and helped her up.
"Do you think he'll return?" Etienne asked her, angrily.
"No… I honestly don't. He made sure he do enough damage as he could before he left." Meg moaned as the slowly walked down the hall.
"Are you sure you just don't want me to run to the doctor's?" He asked her concerned.
"No, because I'd hate to be wrong and have him come back." She admitted.
"What if I take you to your mothers?" Etienne suggested. "Please… I would really appreciate that." Meg asked realizing it was only a block away compared to the five she'd have to walk to the doctor's.
"Maman was furious for my folly, but took me in after Claude left me. She nursed my ankle back to health and my baby to grow."
"Will she ever dance again?" Antoinette Giry asked the doctor.
"Only time will tell, I've seen some recover from much worse injuries, but they were few. Statistically speaking, she will be able to dance again, but never the way she was able to before. Her ankle will always be handicapped."
"Thank you doctor." Madame Giry said as she escorted him to the door. Meg could hear them deliriously as they made their goodbyes and the doctor left. She forced her eyes to open when she felt her mother staring down at her once more.
"He could have killed you." She stated.
"I know." Meg replied.
"Why didn't he? What made him stop?" her mother enquired.
"I don't know the answer to that, I really don't. I saw it in his eyes, he didn't care about the child within me." She whispered. "Momma, I'm afraid, I'm afraid he'll come back and ruin everything… that he'll come back and finish what he started."
"That will NEVER happen." Antoinette stated, "I promise you, my Pearl, it will NEVER happen." It was while her mother stroked her feverish head that she let herself be claimed by unconsciousness.
Meg sighed sadly, reliving those days and retelling the false story that she had for so many years. It had been the next morning her mother had returned and told her that she was now officially a 'widow'.
"Don't tell them what happened Meg," her mother had told her, "it is amazing how easily lying to people can be."
Even to ourselves, Meg thought.
Oh how she had missed Raoul, it was only after he left she realized her Maman had been right. Such advice would be forever lost in her death, Meg thought sadly.
Her mother had been an old mysterious one, with a soul like a bottomless pond, filled deep with secrets of others. It was then she remembered those last words her mother spoke before she perished.
"Remember my child... things are not always as they seem. The Opera Ghost may be dead, but he lives on." She had said. "He has helped you more then you know, and always will, from beyond the grave. When the time comes, you will come to know Erik."
Erik? Who is Erik? Meg always had thought. Was he someone else who knew the opera ghost?
"You will have to make a choice between two truths, one falsified, and the other is absolute. Megan, my pearl, I love you, as I love Adrienne, I tried to give you a life my child, I only hope you do better then I." She said proudly holding her daughters hand on her deathbed.
Those were some of the few words Meg still held dear to her heart. It was rare that her mother ever truly did praise her, and this was one of those times, she could tell the true feelings of her maman had come to show themselves.
"I am so sorry for your loss Meg, as you know I can fully understand the emptiness in your heart." Raoul said, brushing a curl out of her face.
She felt sick, the insides of her stomach twisted for the first time in years. She was so used to lying to everyone, it just rolled off the tip of her tongue. So why now, after all this time, did she feel guilty for lying? And above all, why could she not tell Raoul the truth about her sordid past?
( ' ) '
-
Passing bells
and sculpted angels,
cold and monumental,
seem, for you,
the wrong companions -
you were warm and gentle . . .
Erik paid the driver and helped Danielle down, out of the carriage.
It was a dark night indeed, but the stars had decided to make a guest appearance by twinkling brightly overhead. Holding a small and gloved hand, rather tightly within his gloved hand, they walked through the gates of the cemetery and continued on their journey. It was the same cemetery that he had tried to steal Christine away in, over six years ago. Instead tonight, snow did not decorate the ground and tombs, but soft dew twinkled in rhythm to the bright star's waltz.
"Papa, why did we come here tonight? We came last week, did we not?" Danielle asked him, lifting her face to meet his gaze. So small she seemed in comparison to his six feet, and he had thought Christine to be small at five foot four.
"Yes my sweet, you are indeed right, but you see, tonight we are not here just to see your mother, I have someone else I must say goodbye, too." he said squeezing the small hand as he looked down into her eyes.
"Oh... I'm sorry papa, then may I go see maman by myself then?" She asked hopefully. Erik had never let her be by herself outside of the opera. He worried continuously over her safety and someone who had known Christine years before to make a connection. Erik hesitated, she was so young, but it was not like anyone was going to try to take her away from him in the dead of night. No one could possible be around this late and he was sure that he could remedy any situation if anyone ever harmed her. He would have to let her out of his sight one of these days.
"Do you know the way there?" He asked her a bit worried.
"Oh yes papa." She said already gently letting go of his hand and skipping a short distance away.
"I will be there in a moment Danielle, do NOT leave the presence of your mother's grave, alright?" He said sternly.
"Yes papa, I promise I won't." She said, calling back to him.
Erik smiled and watched her continue to skip away. Christine's grave was only a short distance from here anyway, it wasn't like he couldn't see her if he looked hard enough.
Turning around he took off the fedora that covered his head and looked down to the grave in front of his feet.
GIRY
1825-1887
"Well Madame, I see I outlasted you, hardly a fate I would of chosen years ago." He said to the stone in front of him.
"I am sorry I could not attend the service, however I'm sure it was full of reverence to this God fellow everyone speaks of highly. Surely you will be able to fill me in if he exists or not, you were always good at keeping me up to date." Slowly he knelt down and placed the flowers he picked up on the ride there from his home.
"You were a good confidante, my old friend; someone I trusted implicitly. I never told you that I forgave you for the night you helped the Vicomte into my home. After all, if you had not, I would have never had her, isn't she beautiful?" He asked and looked far off into the distance to see Danielle standing over a grave talking to herself.
"You always thought she was when you came to me. You were the only mother figure in her life for some time, and she loved your visits, however few and far between they were." He said looking back down to the ground.
"I need to apologize about Meg. I beg forgiveness from you that I could not find that damned husband of hers and kill him, even if it was to just bring truth to the lie we carefully concealed. And you were right, I daresay, I would never have harmed you. I don't think I could of after all that had happened. I promise I will keep an eye out for her, and her son, Adrienne was it? He is three now, yes? My, how time flies. I promise I will keep a look out for her and her son, as you would do for Danielle if anything ever happened to me."
"Goodbye, Antoinette Giry, I hope that whatever awaits you is peaceful, and though I do doubt your God exists, I hope that your beloved father Aiden, and your mother Suzette is there. We both know that Percival, will not, no matter what deity you believe in." He said respectfully and bowed to the grave. He thought of her small stories that she would tell Danielle about her father and mother. He remembered the one story he told her about her own angry and abusive husband. It felt right to mention them to her, to show that he had listened to every word. Reluctantly he replaced the hat on his head and turned swiftly to walk towards Christine's resting place. As he drew closer he could hear Danielle's conversation to her mother.
"Papa misses you very much, too. Yesterday, I saw him sitting again by his organ not playing. I know when he does that he is thinking of you, because he once told me that I sing like you." She paused for a moment, and then continued, "Sometimes I really wish I knew you, knew what you looked like. I cannot lie and say I miss you, but I wish I could."
Erik took this opportunity to step out of the shadows and come to the girl's side.
"Are you almost finished, little angel?" He asked her, approaching her side.
"Yes papa, we can go if you like." She said taking his slim hand in her own.
Erik looked down at the tombstone that they were standing in front of. Even in death, Raoul had pampered her. A headstone made completely of marble with an angelic statue gracing the top was his last gift to her, his best. He thought it was suitable for the woman he loved, something that Raoul for once, got right.
Christine de Chagny
1860-1883
Loving wife and mother.
Gently Erik kissed the statue and took a step back. He quickly fought back the tears that threatened to fall as the two lonely souls slowly began their trek back to the gates where they would be picked up by the cab.
"Did you have a good talk with your mother?" Erik asked Danielle indulging her a little.
"Oh yes, and you with your friend?" She asked.
"Indeed, what did you and she talk about?" He asked amused.
"Well, she agreed with me it's absurd you still wear the mask."
"Now Danielle..."
"But papa, I see no need for you to hide your face." She stated. "I have seen your face many times before, I do not fear it."
"You may say that Danielle, but you may not mean it." He said bitterly.
"Oh papa, when will you ever learn, I love you for..." The young girl said but Erik stopped dead in his tracks, no longer were they alone.
"Papa what is..."
"Shush..." he gestured and then led her covertly into the shadows by a tree.
Quickly, without thinking, he wrapped himself and Danielle within the darkness of his black cloak. It was then he saw the figure of a man come into sight. Instinctively, he leaned his weight against the trunk of the tree that they were taking shelter under.
He took this opportunity to relax, for he knew they would not be noticed. Nevertheless, if they made the slightest sound all it would take was some careful searching, and Dani and he would be found.
It would be even worse if the person were who Erik thought it was.
As though the man had heard Erik's thoughts, he turned slightly, showing enough of himself to confirm Erik's worst fear. It was like seeing a ghost emerge out of time to live again. It had been five years, five years and three months since he had seen that face. There had been a time when he had feared the power the Vicomte held over him. Raoul was someone with an inferior mind, and yet the young man always had the uncanny ability of taking the most precious things away from him.
( ' ) '
-
Too many years
fighting back tears . . .
Why can't the past
just die . . .?
When Madame Giry had visited him four years ago, the fear that Erik harbored about Raoul had diminished upon hearing of his departure.
He had been dressing Danielle who had been fourteen months at the time, when he heard her calling on the other side of the lake.
"Monsieur le phantom! I know you're still down here; I saw you five months ago stalking the halls." She said nervously.
Erik sighed and looked down at the small baby smiling up at him. He could certainly call the old woman's bluff, for he knew there was no way she would have been able to cross the icy cold lake without the boat, but the fear in her voice pulled on his empathy strings. She had done so many things for him in her time; why not return the favor once more? After all, he had a child now to care for, what if something tragic happened. He needed at least one contact in the outside world.
"Erik?" She called helplessly and he struggled with what he was going to do. Should he leave Danielle here? Or should he take her with him? He decided it best to put her in her crib and be as quick as possible.
Doing just that, he swiftly grabbed the monkey music box and left it in her crib. He then rushed to the door of his home, and not even taking the time to put on a cloak, he quickly rowed over to the distressed woman who was looking for him.
"No fancy appearances tonight?" She asked calmly with a coy smile.
"No need Madame Giry, for what is the point in haunting if no one believes in ghosts?" He asked as he helped her into the small craft.
The row over was a quiet one, for Erik was preoccupied with getting back to the house as soon as possible and Madame Giry was trying to figure out how to word her dilemma. Damn Meg ever getting mixed-up with that Claude! Now she was here, with Erik, the infamous opera ghost, trying to fix things up. As they arrived on the other side of the shore, she managed to pull herself out of the boat and wait for him to guide her inside.
He did so with subtle grace and ease making her wonder why he had been so silent as O.G. for so long.
"You seem to be quite cold Mme, would you care for some tea?" he asked briskly.
"No, I want to make this brief as possible, you see..."
Suddenly a small cry came from the bedroom.
"What was that?" Mme Giry's ear's perked.
"Nothing," was Erik's hasty reply only to have another, louder cry follow.
"I distinctly heard something Monsieur le phantom!" Mme Giry protested.
Annoyed and knowingly caught, Erik swept by her and headed towards Danielle's room.
Upon entering he found her standing up in her cradle waiting for attention.
"Can you ever be quiet?" he asked her defeated, only to have her giggle and pull off his mask. "Erik! Mask!" she giggled.
"Not now, we have company," He mumbled and put her down to replace his mask. Finally, picking her up, he retreated back to the den to find a stunned Mme Giry.
"That... that..." She stammered.
"Is a child? Yes, I presume it is." He said holding Danielle close.
Angrily, Mme Giry advanced. "What is she doing down here? In a place like this?"
"She is being raised by me, it was Christine's last request, God knows why she would ever entrust her child to me." He said looking down at the soft curls of the fourteen-month-old girl in his arms.
"You mean, that is the de Chagny heir, their only child?" She said growing pale and placing her hand to her throat.
"WAS the de Chagny child Madame, was, now she is Erik's child…"
"ERIK!" Danielle squealed pleasantly.
"Yes dear, Erik's child, one who is properly taken care of." He said frustrated, why was everyone always so judgmental? Sure I've had killed a few in my time, but not with good reason! He mused.
"That is not your child Erik, she belongs with her father! Unless..." She said growing paler.
"Unless you were the culprit behind the estate fire." She said backing up in fear.
"Oh, for the love of... No! How typical! How ignorant of you," he spat.
"Of me?" she asked taken back.
"Yes, you! I cannot begin to fathom that you of all people would think I would harm the one thing I held dearest. I would never harm a hair on Christine's head and you knew that. I let her go, I watched her like a hawk for one whole year, never jeopardizing my hiding place, never harming anyone. I watched her die!" He yelled tears filling his eyes.
Danielle began to make a whimpering noise like she did when she was about to cry, making Erik hush and calm her.
"I apologize little angel, I didn't mean to scare you, hush, dearest Danielle." He said stroking her back till she rested her head in the space between his neck and shoulder. She wrapped her chubby arms around his neck in response.
"I watched her die, Mme Giry," He continued on a softer note, "I tried to save her, but the beam was too heavy. I didn't want to leave her, but she begged me to save Danielle." He said looking down at the baby in his arms.
"Well you did Erik, and you have done a wonderful job so far, but she belongs to the Vicomte, it's time to take her back." She said stepping forward towards Danielle.
Erik panicked; no one was going to take her away from him. Quickly, he stepped out of Giry's grasp and walked to the other side of the room. He tried to control the feeling of murderous rage he had controlled for almost two years that was beginning to boil.
"I said I haven't hurt anyone in a year, and I would hate for that to change Madame Giry." He said looking at her with dark eyes.
"You wouldn't dare." She said nervously.
"Only if you try to take this child away from me, yes. I would hate to have to, however nothing is going to separate us, not that abhorrent Vicomte, not even you." He said looking down yet again at the precious girl in his arms.
"Even if I took her back, she wouldn't go to Raoul." The older woman said relaxing her posture and sighed, she held out her arms in a gesture of holding Danielle, and at first Erik hesitated.
"Why? Has that drunken stupor I have heard rumors of finally got the best of him?" He asked cynically. Although he knew deep down inside that if he did not have Danielle to care for, he would of dealt with Christine's death in the same fashion.
"Maybe, I wouldn't know: he left for America six months ago." She said, which made Erik relax enough for Giry to hold Danielle.
"Well then, what brings you to my humble abode?" He asked sarcastically.
"It's about Meg," She said, sitting on the divan.