a/n: sorry for the lack of updates this week, school has kept me pretty occupied.

Tay-kun : for some reason, i picture Philippe prone to mood swings, he just seems the type in the book...

Lize Radcliffe : lol, thanks! Yes, Philippe hasa thing against Erik... even in the book...

NightmareFX: lol, thanks! . aww! i think i'll have to go find that phanfic now!

RAOUL POV

I wait for Erik to wake up. Hours have passed and he has barely moved a finger. And then the delightful happens, a moan escapes from deep within his throat.

"Erik?" I take his hand.

His eyes squeeze shut, "Ahh! The light!"

I should have known! I jump up and close the shades. He has not known light other than candles for many years, not like this, how could I be so stupid?

"I'm sorry," I sit next to him.

His eyes open, "It's alright."

"No, I should have known," I try.

"Please, if you had known this wouldn't have happened, and if you should have known I would be mad, and since neither are true than this was just an accident," he answers.

"Still," I take his hand.

"No, hush, let's forget it, you know now," he squeezes my hand.

His eyes then search the room. Nothing to be proud of, some nice furniture and a full wardrobe, nothing really decorative.

"Quite plain," he notices.

"Never really found a style for me," I shrug.

"This will not do," already he becomes critical.

A knock on the door sends him diving under the covers.

I call out, "Who is it?"

Philippe's voice answers, "Can I speak with you a moment?"

Erik takes my arm, "Don't let him in!"

"He won't hurt you," I whisper.

"Please," his eyes show his fear, and his face looks like that of a child scared of the monsters under his bed.

"Alright," I stand up and then exit the room.

"How is he?" my brother motions to Erik as I close the door.

"Scared, traumatized… but he'll be okay," I add.

"It's all my fault," he turns away.

"Yes," I won't deny the truth.

He turns to me, "What happened to the little brother standing up for the big brother thing?"

"That's for children, Philippe," I answer, slightly annoyed.

"I'm sorry," he nods.

"Stop," I demand.

"What?" he looks at me with utter confusion.

"You think that just saying that you're sorry mends everything!" I yell.

"No, I don't," he persists, "I know that it doesn't. Nothing will ever make up for…"

He's gone one step too far, "SHUT UP! Stop bringing that up!"

"I'm sorry, Raoul," he catches it.

"There you go again!" I scream in spite of this, "Just like always! Just leave us alone!"

I run off down the hall and into one of the larger wings that leads to the library. He knows not to follow me.

ERIK POV

I hear yelling, and then furious footsteps storming off.

The door handle rattles and I believe it to be Raoul, but when I see Philippe I panic.

Trying to get away from him, I fall hard off the bed. In an instant he stands above me. I duck and wrap my arms around myself, in the fetal position, trying to protect as much of me as possible from his furry.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Erik," he calmly replies to my terror.

I speak through my arms; "I've heard that before, why should I trust you?"

"Because," he opens his hands in a gesture showing me he means no harm, "I know how much my brother loves you."

"That didn't stop you before," I point out.

He sighs, "And let me apologize for that, I did not think before I took action. When I heard that there were rumors about my brother and another man spreading I became furious and assumed that man was taking advantage of my brother. I see now how wrong I was."

I nod, "Yes, you were."

"Here," he offers me his arm to help me up, "let's get you back in the bed."

I laugh, "I guess you haven't been told the extent of my injuries, Monsieur. I can barely move my legs, my wrists are quite damaged, and I have terrible bruising on my side, only the last one is from you, though."

He then moves to my side and carefully takes me in his arms, and places me back on the bed.

I look at him in shock, "Thank you."

He nods, "Of course."

"Your name is Philippe, right?" I ask.

"Yes, and yours should be Erik," he answers.

"Correct," I smile, "I've heard a lot about you."

"And how much was positive, nothing at all?" he wouldn't seem to be surprised by the answer.

"Very little, yes," I nod.

"Not surprising, my brother hates me," he lowers his head.

"He does not hate you, it's just hard for him to forgive you. In a way I think he does actually forgive you, but finds it easier to believe he hates you," I explain.

"Well, he's really good at the latter," he laughs lightly.

"I know," I lower my head as well.

"I never meant to hurt him, I never would hurt him, but that night, seeing that vase smashed, something in me snapped," his voice drops low, "Can I get your word that you will not tell him what I am about to say?"

"Of course," though I hate the idea, I do keep secrets.

He sighs deeply, "The only reason that I hurt him was the fact of who made the vase. It was our mother. She had been pregnant for about a month, still continuing day to day things, when she decided to start making it. It followed her through the many months of pregnancy. She actually finished it the day before Raoul was born. The next day, when I first held my baby brother in my arms, I knew that he would be the type to love flowers, something about him and that vase were meant to be. And that even became his favorite vase too. Every year he would know when his birthday was because I would always go out and buy our mother's favorite flowers, white roses, and put how ever many in there that would equal Raoul's age the next day. I was only upset, because it was the only vase she ever made, the first and the last. She had bragged about it when it was finished and often spoke of how she was going to make more after Raoul was born. But she died, and she never got the chance to make another."

His voice drops deadly silent and I realize that's all I am to hear.

And then there is a sob outside the door, though Philippe does not hear it.

Then another sob comes through, and I recognize it to be Raoul's.

I lower my head, and calmly call, "Raoul, come in here, please."

And so he does, head bowed and tears streaming onto the floor, in little pits and plops.

Philippe looks up at his brother and their eyes meet.

"I never meant to hurt you," Philippe's choked voice comes out.

"I never meant to do anything wrong," my angel replies.

"You never did do anything wrong, it was Josiah, and he is long gone," Philippe stands and pulls Raoul to him.

I watch as Raoul grasps his brother, his fingers tangling in the back of his brother's shirt, his tears soaking the shoulder of the fabric.

I watch as years of fighting and resentment are forgotten in one moment.

How I wish I had a chance to go back and make up with those in my past at this moment, but my mother has died, and only Nadir remains, and Allah knows where he could be.

But then I find myself content, content watching this moment pass, knowing that a bright future has started to form. Maybe there will be less shadow now, after all. Since I was a child that's all I ever wanted.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

a/n: yes, this is partially Susan Kay's 'Phantom' based as well, for those of you who know what I'm talking about. please review!