The idea for this story came as I was watching the movie in theaters (the only time I've seen it) and I saw Raoul attempting to keep guard outside Christine's bedroom, and falling asleep. Don't ask me how that scene turned into this story. Oh, and at the beginning here, I was trying to tell the story switching between Erik's and Raoul's points of view. But it turned out a bit redundant.

Also, no reviews... sigh... but with that hit counter thing I can see that seventeen people have at least looked at this story...

Erik sat, staring at the wall, lost in thought. He would sit like this for hours, not moving, hardly blinking, simply staring at the wall, falling into memories. He had not eaten since before Don Juan, and he had no intention of ever eating again. His mask lay on the table before him, as did his lasso.

When he heard the footsteps, he thought at first he had just imagined them. He blinked and turned his head slightly. No, they were real. He twisted around in his chair. Could it be Christine? Could she have come back to him? He stood and stepped into the shadows. In a few seconds the owner of the footsteps came around the corner. Erik snarled when he saw Raoul. He glanced longingly at his lasso which he had left on the table. It was no use to him there, and he couldn't get it without being seen.

Raoul hurried into the lair, and glanced around. He was careful to keep his hand above his eyes, but he lowered it slightly when he saw no one. He took a few cautious steps forward. He heard nothing, and the lair seemed empty. He noticed the mask and lasso lying on the table and went over and picked them up.

It was at this moment, when Raoul had both hands occupied, that Erik struck. He lunged out of the darkness and grabbed Raoul around the neck. Raoul dropped the lasso as he fell. He did manage to hold onto the mask, and he struck wildly out with it. He hit something, and he heard Erik give a hiss of pain. Then the mask was wrenched from his grip and he was looking up into the hate filled eyes of the phantom.

Erik could hardly believe his luck. The fool was walking right towards him. When Raoul picked up the mask and lasso, Erik sprang out of the shadows and grabbed the Vicomte. Raoul half turned, and Erik felt something hard collide with his face. He snatched his mask away from Raoul, and the next moment, Raoul was lying on the ground. Erik knelt next to him, his hands at the boy's throat.

"Why are you here?" He snarled. "Is it not enough to win? Do you have to come back and gloat?" Raoul choked and pulled wildly at Erik's hands.

"She..." He managed to cry. "She has no desire-" Erik released his hold a fraction of a centimeter, allowing Raoul to breathe slightly.

Raoul tried desperately to speak. "She..." He managed to say. Stars were hovering in front of his eyes. He could feel his heart beating wildly, and he knew that he would soon pass out. "She has no desire-" Raoul felt Erik's hands loosen slightly. He gasped and tried to push Erik's hands off his neck, but they remained clamped around it.

"Let her go!" Raoul cried. "She'll die if you keep her here! Christine-" suddenly Erik cut off Raoul's breath again.

"You came to torment me," he said, "but it was a mistake! Did you ever think that I would let you leave alive?" The stars appeared again before his eyes. Raoul could see darkness flickering at the corners of his vision as well. He closed his eyes.

"Give... Give her back..."

Erik released Raoul. He lay on the ground, gasping in air. Erik stared down at him. "You have her already," he said. Raoul opened his eyes and looked warily up at him.

"I'm not stupid," he gasped, "I know you took her again. Why else would I come down here, I know the dangers." Erik reached out and grabbed the front of Raoul's shirt.

"You think I took her?" He asked. "Why torture oneself with what one cannot have?" He said bitterly.

Raoul tried to pull out of Erik's grasp. If Christine was not down here... where was she? Who had written the note? And what time was it?

"Let me go," he said. Erik smiled cruelly.

"No, if I cannot have her, no one can. I can't have her, but I can have your death." Raoul stared at him and tried to pull away, this time harder. Raoul saw Erik reach out for the lasso, and he struggled wildly.

"No, stop, let me go! I have to be there at one! I have to be! He might kill her, otherwise. He might kill Christine!" Erik froze with the lasso in his hand.

"What?" He asked softly.

"Yes, I have to go, someone took her! See," Raoul said desperately, pulling the note out of his pocket and waving it around. Erik dropped the lasso and snatched the note from Raoul. He read it, and his brow furrowed in thought.

Erik stared at the note. His beloved had been kidnapped... Raoul tried to snatch the note back, but Erik held it out of his reach. In a moment he had made up his mind. Erik stood, hauling Raoul up with him. He then walked over to a door, dragging Raoul, opened it and pushed Raoul inside, locking it from the outside.

He pocketed the key and the note, before taking up his mask and lasso. He would find whoever dared kidnap Christine, and then he would come back and deal with the miserable little Vicomte.

The said miserable little Vicomte was very miserable indeed. He had thrown himself at the door after Erik had closed it, but it was locked. When he had turned to see if there were any other doors, he had been unpleasantly surprised to find that he was sharing the room with a lamp on a small rickety table... And a coffin.

Raoul approached the coffin nervously. He was disgusted, but at the same time he was morbidly attracted to it. It was black, had a canopy of red and black silk, and was lined with what looked like red velvet. He peered in, and was relieved to find that it was empty. After a thorough search of the room yielded no other exits, Raoul went back and stood next to the coffin. What was he even doing here, he wondered. Where was this? Why did the phantom have a coffin?

Raoul glanced at it again, and then he realized what he was seeing. There was a pillow in it. Raoul backed away. Surely this was not where the phantom slept! He went over to the door and pounded on it, shouting. When this invoked no answer, not even an order to be quiet, Raoul guessed that the phantom had left.

He pulled his pocket watch out and looked at it. It was miraculously unharmed and read 7:23. Raoul blinked. When had it become so late? He yawned. It had been an extremely tiring day... After he glanced at the table and decided that it wouldn't support him, he approached the end of the coffin and sat down, careful not to touch it with his bare skin.

His mind wandered to the question of why the phantom hadn't killed him. Raoul shuddered, he would probably be killed when the phantom came back. He considered praying, making a last confession, but he decided that was almost asking to die. Even in his uncomfortable position, sleep eventually caught up with Raoul and he dozed off.

Review! Please... Si vou plait... Tibi places... Onigai... Por favor... uh, drats, can't think of anymore...