Raoul de Chagny sat quietly studying his fiancée across the breakfast table. He could not help but be worried for her, as she seemed each day to lose a little more of her light. She looked especially tired this morning, the dark circles under her eyes telling of a restless night. He feared she was still having nightmares about their ordeal. He certainly was.
"Lotte, are you well? You have hardly touched your breakfast."
Christine raised her shadowed eyes to Raoul, whose face was awash with concerned tenderness. "I am…only a bit tired, Raoul."
"You are still having nightmares."
Christine glanced away in guilt. "I…yes."
Raoul stood from his chair and moved closer to Christine, kneeling beside her. "Oh, Christine…it is only natural after all that you have been through…all that we have been through. But we are safe now, my love." He traced loving fingers across her cheek. "I've received some news just this morning which may ease both our minds."
Christine's breath caught, a thick knot of apprehension suddenly twisting in her stomach. "N-news?"
Raoul smiled gently. "Monsieur Firmin has sent word on the search of the cellars and catacombs."
Christine gasped, her voice a choked whisper. "They have…found…him?"
Raoul dropped his eyes slightly, sighing in frustration that the news was not exactly what he had hoped. "No…not exactly. The police have found no trace of the phantom, but they suspect that he may be…gone for good."
Christine shook her head. "But if they did not find him…?"
Raoul cupped her face his hands reassuringly. "Christine, listen…several gentleman who were present in the mob that night have testified that they caught a glimpse of him, and shots were fired." Christine gasped again, and Raoul pressed on. "The police searched the tunnel they'd claimed to be in and found a pool of…blood…and a trail that disappeared into the river."
Christine was breathing heavily now, tears pooling in her eyes, and once again shaking her head in vehement denial. She gripped Raoul's shoulders. "But they did not find him…they did not find a body…"
Raoul tried to calm her, thinking she was frightened that the phantom would still come for her. "They may never find one, Little Lotte, but you must not worry. The police are still on alert."
"No. No, no, no…" Christine fell weeping into Raoul's arms and he held her closely, whispering gentle words of reassurance. But she could not hear them, her mind was spinning with despair.
The Phantom is dead. Your angel is dead.
No! He cannot be. I would feel it!
"Christine, you must try to calm yourself. It is over now…truly over."
Christine extricated herself from her fiancée's arms, tears still falling freely. "P-please, Raoul…I…think I…need…to be alone for a time…"
His brows drew together in concern. "Are you certain, Christine? I could sit with you awhile…"
She gave a short shake of her head. "No. I…" Her voice cracked slightly, and she bit back another sob. All she could think of was her angel.
Raoul studied Christine closely, nodding slowly. "Very well. I understand this has all been rather stressful…of course you will need more time to finally believe we are free."
Christine drew a ragged breath, wiping at her tears. Raoul could never understand. She had not truly understood…until this moment. Her heart had not left the Opera.
Oh, God, I left him there to die!
She stumbled blindly back to her bedchamber, locking the door and throwing herself upon the bed to weep for the fate of her phantom. A pain unlike any she had ever felt assaulted her…grief and regret and guilt weighing on her soul. She had done this...she had brought this hell upon them all. A frightened, silly child who could not admit her own desire. Who had sought constant shelter…first from her angel…then from her childhood sweetheart. If only she could have faced her fears, perhaps it could have all ended so differently.
But it cannot have ended like this.
I must go back. I must know what has become of him. If only I could see him once more…
Raoul would not permit her to return to Paris alone, of this Christine was certain. He had coddled her since that night, watching her every waking moment. And when Raoul was not watching, his parents certainly were, with their disapproving looks and cold, painful politeness. She felt she was suffocating, and she could not bear it. She wanted to be happy; to love Raoul as she had before…
Christine took several deep breaths, again wiping at her tears. Returning to Paris seemed suddenly vital to her. She needed to be there, to see the Opera Populaire again, to see Meg and Madame Giry...and to know if her angel still lived. He must still live. Perhaps she could let go of the past and finally be able to give herself over completely to her future with Raoul. Her life could never move forward until she left this terrible limbo she had been in for so long. She would ask Raoul, beg him if need be…surely he loved her enough to allow her this one thing.
xXx
Downstairs, Raoul sat pensively staring towards the window. He worried for Christine. He had thought bringing her to his family's estate in the country would soothe her, bring a smile back to her face and joy back into her eyes, but she only seemed to sink deeper into depression each day. The news from Paris should have brought her some relief, but it had only seemed to further upset her.
Certainly she cannot be grieving for that…thing!
He scowled and shook his head. Christine had some strange empathy for the creature, of course, but surely her fear of him far outweighed that. Raoul wished dearly he could have given her assurance that the phantom was gone for good, but there was no body and that monster had a talent for escape. He could well be plotting to kidnap Christine once again.
But he did let us both go. He could have killed me and kept her forever, yet he did not.
Raoul sighed wearily, closing his eyes to replay that night. The wretched images of Christine in that demon's arms were forever burned into his memory. For one insane moment, Raoul had actually believed that she…but no, Christine had saved them both. She only needed time to recover from the ordeal, and then they would be married.
He smiled a little at the thought. They had been engaged for months now, secretly, and Raoul was eager to begin their life together. Surely it could not be much longer now. After all they had been through, they would finally be together and never have to think of the damned opera ghost again.
Raoul had written his parents with the happy news before the fiasco of Don Juan Triumphant, and they had returned to Paris to meet his fiancée. Or rather, to meet her again now that she was grown. The Comte and Comtess de Chagny had arrived home not two days after the ill fated debut of the Phantom's opera, and Christine had been already safely tucked away in the suite Raoul had prepared for her.
His parents had been greatly upset by the tale they were told in Paris. The rumor mill had already churned out the horrid story, greatly embellishing much of it. Comte Philippe had taken his son aside almost immediately and demanded the truth, but Raoul had been reluctant to speak of it in detail.
He frowned now, thinking of how distant they seemed to be with Christine. He had almost expected such a thing from his father, as the Comte had certain prejudices about proper breeding. But Elise de Chagny had a far softer touch, and Raoul had thought she would welcome Christine with open arms. His mother had been polite enough, to be certain, but even she possessed a certain strange aloofness when dealing with her son's fiancée. Raoul feared that this might be contributing to Christine's melancholy, and he knew he must endeavor to do everything within his power to remedy that.
Whatever she desires shall be hers, as long as she is mine.