In Understanding

Are you still in love with me?

Christine prayed that Raoul would say 'no.' For Meg's sake. For Erik's sake. But mostly for her own sake, because she could not bear to know that she would continue to bring so much misery to so many people whom she cared about.

Raoul met her eyes evenly. "I...do still love you, Christine. But it has changed. Seeing you again has made me realize how little we really knew one another as adults. I loved Little Lotte, and she was gone long before we ever met again."

"Not so very long before then, Raoul." Christine replied with a smile, feeling suddenly as though a great weight had been lifted from her heart.

He nodded, "I would have married you, you know. And gone on thinking everything was wonderful."

She grinned at him, "I would have made you miserable."

Raoul smiled sadly, "Meg makes me happy, Christine. She makes me laugh, and she makes me feel…" He broke off with a blush. "I love her, more than I ever imagined possible." His smile turned slightly sardonic. "I think I have even come to understand your Erik's murderous jealousy." He turned pleading eyes to Christine. "How do I make her believe that the past is truly behind me?"

Christine smiled in sympathy. She struggled with that same question nearly everyday. She did not pretend to have the answer, but she gave Raoul the only advice that she could. "By loving her, Raoul, no matter how impossible it may seem. She will not always make it easy, of course. I find myself wanting to throttle Erik sometimes for his stubbornness." She pressed a hand over her belly when she felt Erik's daughter give a hard kick in agreement, or perhaps in protest, and her smile grew wider. "But I guarantee the rewards are worth the effort."

xXx

"I am to blame for all of this. I led him straight to you."

The words slipped into the silence between Meg and Erik, who sat side by side on the bench in the garden. Antoinette Giry had long since abandoned them to their sulking, as she had called it. If they were sulking, then Meg supposed they both had a right to under the circumstances...and she was certain her mother had gone inside to check on Christine and Raoul in order to ease her own mind.

Erik continued to stare up to the house, and Meg waited for his temper to fire back to life at her admission of guilt. Though neither she nor her mother had told anyone that they were traveling to England, they had needed some story to explain their extended absence from the Theatre Soliel. They'd cited visiting friends in ill health who lived on the coast. The only destination known to anyone was the city of Calais where the rail journey would end. It had all seemed innocent enough...even giving the name Rousseau, as no one could have associated that with either the Phantom of the Opera or Christine Daaé .

Raoul had known nothing more than anyone else had known, yet he had found them here in Dover. How?...Meg was still not entirely certain. Why?…well, that question tore at her heart.

She had never intended to fall in love with Raoul de Chagny. She had only ever meant to comfort him after Christine had disappeared from his life without explanation. Meg could still remember the pain on Raoul's face when she'd told him that Christine had left Paris to start a new life away from her ruined career and reputation. Yet he had somehow sensed the truth...that Christine had left to be with the man she had called her angel. Meg had never confirmed that fact, afraid that Raoul would attempt to hunt them down, but he had seemed to accept that Christine was truly and finally lost to him.

She'd not expected their friendship to continue without Christine's presence in their lives, but it had. Not only continued, but deepened, changed in time to something else entirely. There was an easiness to their conversations and a strange rightness that they both felt in one another's company which had been impossible to ignore, though they had both tried. Meg had even gone as far as to briefly accept the attentions of Jean Ranier in an attempt to forget her growing feelings for the one man she knew could never be hers.

Even that had not altered the course of her stubborn heart. Indeed, it had only prompted a declaration of love from Raoul which she'd not yet had the courage to reciprocate. How could she have, when she had known so many truths that she could never share with Raoul? When she had been certain that she would always be standing in Christine's shadow? How ironic that the one thing that had brought them together was the very thing that would forever stand between them.

Erik sighed, "The boy has proved far more resourceful than I'd imagined him to be…to have tracked you here from Paris."

His words shook Meg from her musings. His tone was even, almost speculative. He'd not betrayed his anger, nor had he absolved her for her guilt.

Meg shook her head hopelessly, "We should not have said we were taking the train to Calais. We should have said Amiens, or Rouen."

Erik scoffed, "I somehow doubt that would have deterred him. He can be annoyingly persistent."

A sad smile curved her lips and another unbidden tear trickled over her cheek. She could only imagine what lengths Raoul must have gone to in order to find his way to Dover. Meg knew exactly what he must have thought when he'd discovered Jean had been on her train...that she had lied to him about her reasons for leaving Paris…which of course, she had, to a certain degree. But Jean's latest scheme would have led Raoul to believe she had left him for a man she'd sworn never to see again.

Just as Christine had done.

Christine…whom he has found once again.

"Raoul is no longer any threat to you, Erik. Certainly you must know that."

Erik choked out a humorless laugh. "Do not worry. Your boy is safe enough for the moment."

Meg shook her head, "He is not…" yet mine, she had nearly said, stopping herself at Erik's hard glare.

"Not your boy?" He finished. "Careful, Little Giry. The fact that I think he might be is the only reason I have not yet snapped his neck."

She shuddered at the coldness in his tone and turned her face away.

Erik studied her a moment before he sensed someone approaching, and knew before his head turned that is was the boy. He stood abruptly, every muscle coiling and ready to strike, until Meg's little hand closed over his in an attempt to still him. She couldn't have stopped him and they both knew it, yet her presence beside him forced Erik to think before acting.

Raoul's face was dark as he approached, his own hands closed into tight fists. "Madame Rousseau wishes to speak with her husband."

Erik glared at the boy, wordlessly brushing past him on the way to the parlor. Christine was his only concern at the moment, and he'd a feeling by the way the Vicomte was looking at Meg that the two had their own matters to deal with.

xXx

Entering the parlor, Erik saw Christine sunken back against the sofa, both hands over her belly, her head tipped back slightly and her eyes closed. Immediate concern at once replaced annoyance, and he dropped to his knees in front of her. Her lips curved up softly at his presence, though her eyes remained shut.

"Christine, are you well? If that boy has tried anything..."

"I am fine, my love, only tired." She lifted her head and met his eyes. "You've no need to worry, Erik...it is settled between Raoul and I."

His eyes narrowed, and he stood, turning to pace to the window.

Settled? What in the hell does that mean?

De Chagny was still roaming about his property as if he was a bloody welcomed guest. A glance toward the garden revealed the boy sitting alone where Meg had once been.

Has she come to her senses, or has the fop told her something she did not wish to hear?

Erik turned back to Christine with a scowl and paced the length of the parlor again before turning back to crouch in front of her. "What do you mean by settled?"

She cupped his face with her hand. "I mean that I love you, angel. Raoul knows everything...I told him of all my feelings for you and finally apologized for my misuse of his affections. We have laid our past to rest."

Erik studied his wife carefully. "And your jealousy?"

Christine grimaced, dropping her hand to her lap. "Childishness, Erik. I think I was more hurt that Meg had not told me how close she and Raoul have become."

Her eyes were clear and free of the strange pensiveness he'd seen there before, and Erik believed her. Christine had been trying since the Girys' arrival to discover the secret she'd been certain her friend was keeping. To be confronted with the truth in such an unexpected way could not have been anything but difficult. Hell, even he found it rather difficult. Erik sighed and traced gentle fingers over her cheek. "I am not certain I approve of them."

Christine smiled, "It is not your place to approve, my love. Nor mine for that matter, but you must promise to try and tolerate Raoul's presence here, Erik."

His eyes darkened. Tolerating the boy would be impossible. "Are you certain you can trust him? He could easily go back to Paris and tell the authorities where to find me."

She sighed, "We have to trust him, love. I do not think he would knowingly do anything to hurt me...or Meg, now."

Erik grunted, "Mm. Except he has hurt Meg, mon ange."

Christine certainly could not deny that. "I wonder if she has not hurt him, as well."

Erik recalled the argument that had passed between Meg and her boy, and knew Christine was right. "He is a delicate little fop, isn't he?"

Her brow shot up. "Erik...! You are impossible." Christine tried her best to keep her voice stern, but the smile that flirted around the edge of her mouth betrayed her.

Erik grinned, "But you love me for it." Leaning over his wife, he captured her smiling lips in a sensual kiss. When he pulled back, she slipped her hands into his.

"Help me up, Erik."

Laughing a little, he did as she asked. "May I assume you are off to hunt down Meg?"

She grinned at him, "I most certainly am, and then I should like to rest a bit before dinner."

Erik nodded, "I believe she has gone to her room, mon ange. She did not seem in a mood to entertain the boy."

As they walked toward the stairs, Christine turned to her husband with determination. "He is in love with her, Erik."

He sighed and nodded in resignation, "And she with him, or so it would seem. Though she never spoke those words."

Christine smiled at him, her eyes sparkling, "You will make certain he stays for supper, will you not?"

Erik's face darkened, "Christine…"

"Please, Erik. For Meg."

He grimaced, "I suppose I shall not have a choice. I am afraid I sent the boy's hansom away when I was planning to kill him, and I've no desire to lend him one of my horses."

Christine frowned deeply, "Erik…you did not really intend to kill Raoul, did you?"

He averted his eyes, and Christine had her answer.

Silently, she allowed him to help her up the stairs. He left her alone to see to Meg, and Christine pushed away her lingering uneasiness to concentrate on her friend. She tapped lightly at Meg's door, "Meg? May I come in?"

After a moment, Christine heard the soft reply. "Yes."

She opened the door, hesitating a moment at the vision before her. Meg's eyes were red and slightly puffy, her face a little pale, and she stood by the bed, calm and composed, and clearly waiting for a storm to come. Christine closed the door behind her and gracelessly maneuvered herself into the wing-back chair in the corner. She raised an eyebrow, looking at Meg pointedly, "Is there something you neglected to mention to me, my friend?"

xXx

Raoul sat staring out to the ocean on the very bench that Meg had sat upon not an hour before. She had not wished to speak with him, and he'd had no choice but to let her go. He sighed raggedly, knowing that Meg doubted his devotion to her, and he could hardly blame her for it. Christine had been so much a part of his past, and he'd never had the chance to say a proper goodbye to her.

He had always suspected that her departure from Paris had been somehow tied her supposed angel. Raoul had known Christine's feelings for the man, even though he'd stubbornly refused to admit the truth to himself. Yet he'd found it difficult to let go, if only because he could never entirely be certain of Christine's fate. Meg would only ever assure him that their friend was happy in her new life.

Meg.

For so long, he'd thought that no one could replace Christine in his heart, but he'd been proven wrong. Meg's sweet smile and irrepressible spirit had captivated him completely, even before Christine had left Paris. Oh, he'd not been in love with Meg then, of course. He had still been in love with Christine. Or he thought he had been. Yet he'd been drawn to Meg, happy to be in her company and share in her laughter.

Even after Christine had gone, Raoul had found himself seeking Meg out. They had talked endlessly, about everything and nothing, and she had become the dearest friend he had ever known. And then she had become much more than that, invading his every waking thought while Christine had faded more and more from his mind.

He had resisted at first, not wanting to ask Meg to give up her dancing, certain that he would suffocate her as he had Christine. In his hesitation, Raoul had nearly let her slip away from him. She had caught the eye of Jean Ranier, a womanizer and a rogue if ever there was one, and Raoul had realized what a fool he had been not to have confessed his love. He'd quickly rectified that, but Meg had not yet told him that she returned his feelings.

He knew Christine to be the reason for that. Meg had admitted as much. She'd been uncertain that Raoul was truly over her friend, and he'd not know how to convince her. It was a strange twist of fate that saw her asking him for time. Time for her to feel secure in his love. Time he'd gladly granted to her, happy to prove his love in any way she would ask him to. He'd found it quite telling that he'd not been able to offer the same to Christine so many months before.

Yet time had meant letting Meg leave him…a two month holiday to the coast with Madame Giry to visit friends. Raoul was mildly surprised that he had not realized sooner who the friends really were, but he'd had no reason to doubt Meg's word. Until he'd heard the whispered rumors of an elopement at the Theatre Soliel…learned that Ranier had booked passage to Calais on Meg's train. Raoul feared that he might have lost Meg just as he had Christine.

And I could not let her go.

"Brooding will not bring her back to you, boy."

Raoul was shaken from his thoughts by the mocking voice of the Phantom. Erik. He glared up at the man with a scowl, "I will not take advice from the likes of you!"

Erik chuckled, an odd amusement in his haunting eyes. "The likes of me? I am a happily married man, Vicomte."

Raoul stood, facing the fiend before him. "Let us understand one another, Monsieur. I do not like you. I do not trust you. And I will never comprehend what Christine sees in you. But I will endeavor to keep my disdain for you to myself for her sake. I will not, however, be continually made a fool of by you."

Erik laughed again, his eyes flashing with an odd humor. "I will refrain from commenting on your foolishness. But you can rest assured that I understand your feelings perfectly, and we are of similar mind on the subject." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Now, I recommend that you remove yourself from my garden and make yourself presentable, as my wife has insisted on your presence for dinner. Your bag is on the front drive. Apparently your cabbie was nice enough to leave it before he left you to your fate."

The final words were delivered in a near growl before Erik turned and disappeared back into the house. Raoul unclenched the fists he hadn't even been aware of forming and sank down onto the bench.

Dinner?

That would surely be a disaster in the making. Yet Meg would be there. Raoul was loathe to admit it, but Erik was right. Brooding would not bring Meg back to him. They needed to talk.

She needed to know.

There was only one woman Raoul could imagine spending his life with now.

And it wasn't Christine.

A/N: I feel I can safely tell you that only three chapters remain after this one. Things are starting to wrap themselves up.