A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews. Intensity was what I was aiming for but it's difficult to write 'action-y' type scenes.
Ahonelesspirate: Your review made me laugh out loud. I was in such a rush to get this sent to my e-mail account from work that I sent the unedited copy. That line actually reads 'They fought like bears, aggressive and unrelenting, around the room. Erik was light on his feet as always but Philippe, as stocky as he was, somehow stayed with him. Their swords were touching, hitting…' please accept my apologies!
Also, do you think Raoul's permission to kill him means anything to Erik? Perhaps Erik is playing…
Modesty: Dark Erik is good! Lol, have you updated your fic yet? Thanks for the review.
Undermyangels: You're just going to have to keep reading!
Hadracones: I've tried to rectify some of the damage done in the original phantom… Raoul is not all that bad, in fact, I've tried to make him come across as more respectable in these last chapters. He now understands almost all of whats been going on. He's angry and wouldn't you be? Thank you for the lovely compliments and for taking the time to review!
Pertie: It is poor form but what do you expect? Lol! Has Philippe shown any form at all so far? I must take this opportunity to apologise for making Philippe's character the way he is, to his fans I AM sorry but I thought this was a good use of him!
Queensarah: Thank you for the review. I mentioned in an earlier authors note that Raoul had more to him than he first appeared. I think it's important for us all to remember that Erik and Raoul DO have something in common… Christine.
Nabira: lol it's a good job I don't get many reviews, I'd have no time to fit you all on and I do like to thank everyone individually for the time they have taken to read my story and to give me some feedback so thank you kindly for your review and please stick with me!
Chapter 52- Cries in the Night.
Raoul stalked carefully around the side of the house, remaining near to the wall and keeping Antoinette Giry behind him, but close. The night was too dark for him to see well in, the moon was comforting itself behind the blanket of the clouds, and so a lot of the time he was relying on his hearing until his eyes had chance to refocus. It was going a lot slower than he hoped, than he needed. He knew that Christine was probably still in danger.
Vomit rose in his throat and he swallowed it back down, trying not to gag on the texture and taste. Antoinette had calmed down but was still visibly upset, however, she understood what was at stake now. It was the reason she had come out here in the first place and had sent Henry to speak to him. Raoul was angry that they hadn't told him sooner and only a part of him understood why. It was his wife, his world and they didn't tell him what was happening. He was angry for all of this, part of him wanted to blame them but he knew that really, it wasn't there fault. The part he wanted to blame them for most was his mistake. That mistake was made in not believing Christine.
He had been almost overwhelemed by the explanations that came pouring from Henry, about Christine, about Madame Giry and about himself. The revelation that Henry was some sort of official and also the Phantom of the Opera's younger sibling, had gone some way to explaining their secrecy and if Raoul was honest, it was what had shocked him most of all.
Still, he was angry.
He used that anger now, his feelings towards Antoinette Giry, towards Henry, towards the Phantom and then, his feelings for Christine. He used all of these emotions, all of the mixed feeling, to push him forward. To find her and give him the strength he had lost lately.
His anger towards Philippe, however, was his real driving force. He had no idea what was happening in the house, his estimations of the phantom were high and he had no doubt that Philippe would either come out seriously hurt or he would not come out at all.
He edge forward.
Voices stopped him.
Laughter.
He peered carefully around the wall, holding his arm out behind him to protect Antoinette. He could see three guards, sitting on the ground in a circle, talking and laughing. And then he could see Christine, dirt caking her face, her hair covered in mud as she lay tied with ropes on the floor in the centre of the guard's circle. Raoul closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath, compose yourself.
He turned to Antoinette and smiled, it looked forced but it was the best he could do. She returned it sadly.
'Wait here,' he whispered, reaching down into his boot. 'Take this, stay here, be careful.'
He handed her a small dagger, beautifully polished and gleaming even in the very little light they had. She knew that it was a family heirloom. He touched her hand gently and nodded at her, to which she responded with a soft sigh, clinging to the dagger like it was her last hope she nodded to tell him she would be fine.
Visibly he composed himself. He stood up straight, smoothed his hair, buttoned his shirt and straightened his back, with one last look at the ballet mistress he stepped out of the blackness and walked calmly towards the guards.
At the sound of his feet approaching the guards leapt up, two of them pulling out their weapons and turning to face him and the other lifting Christine to her feet and starting to talk away with her.
'Halt!' he shouted, his voice booming in the dark night. He stood up perfectly straight, his shoulders wide and proud. They squinted and immediately the guard closest to him dropped his weapon and bowed his head. The third guard had turned to face him, still holding Christine's tiny arm in his burly hand.
Raoul walked further out of the darkness.
'Vicomte,' said the first guard, his head still bowed.
'Claude,' Raoul said, his voice framed with authority. The guard straightened himself and looked at the man next to him. Guard number two, who Raoul recognised as Thierry.
'Christine,' said Raoul, holding his free hand out to her. She was nearly twenty paces away from him. She glanced up at the guard who was holding her arm and tugged but he didn't let go. Instead he looked at Thierry for advice. Raoul racked his brains for his name… tall, muscular… Patrik.
Thierry shook his head firmly from side to side.
'No,' he said and glared at Raoul.
'Let her go,' said Raoul, keeping his voice low. Thierry shook his head again.
'I gave you an order,' he said, looking at him and moving forward slowly. Patrik was still holding Christine's arm tightly.
'As did Comte de Changy,' he said, turning to scowl at Patrik.
'Please, Thierry,' said Claude, who was now close to Raoul but had his back to him. 'This is wrong.'
'No,' Thierry said firmly, looking back at Patrik. 'Get moving.' He said, pointing to Christine.
'I'm warning you,' said Raoul, gripping his dagger firmly in the palm of his hand. His body went rigid as his pulse raced.
'What?' said Thierry, almost laughing. 'With that?'
Thierry scowled once more before bounding towards Raoul, his sword out in front of him, ploughing towards the vicomte. He was gaining ground, and Raoul hardened his clutch on the dagger, made his stance firm and took in a mouthful of oxygen.
But Thierry never made it to Raoul.
A sickening cry filled the air as Claude slid out in front of Thierry and stopped him with his sword. Raoul blinked in disbelief as he realised that he could see the tip of the weapon protruding through Thierry's back, with blood dripping onto the guard's shoulder blade.
He swallowed hard.
'Thank you,' said Raoul, trying to keep his voice level as he turned to Claude, whose green eyes were softened by sadness as he lay his friend on the ground and withdrew his sword.
His death had been almost instant.
'I'm sorry,' said the guard. 'I knew it was wrong, all of this… but my orders… I had to do it, you weren't there for me to ask… please… I need my job… I've always been faithful… I...'
'It's okay,' Raoul said holding his hand up with a small nod. He smiled slightly as he glanced back over at Christine and Patrik.
'Christine,' Raoul said, moving towards her. Patrik relinquished his grip on her arm and she stepped away from him, towards her husband.
He looked at her, she was streaked with mud and tears, her hair not the soft brown it usually was but blackening from the soil. He wanted to reach out and touch her but was afraid that she would pull away from him, scared that she was no longer interested in his promises. After all he had promised to protect and look what had happened.
'Christine,' he said, his voice so hoarse that it didn't sound like his own. 'I'm so sorry.'
She looked at him, standing only a few steps away now and then looked around her. He knew who she was searching for.
'Where are they?' she asked, watching his eyes.
'Inside,' he said quietly. 'Your… friend and Philippe…'
'You left them together?'
'Yes…' he said, his voice soft.
'Are you crazy?' she said, not angry but confused. Raoul looked at her, knowing that her concern was not for Philippe or what might be done to him but rather for the phantom and what he might do himself.
'I…' he began and realised there was very little he could say. He took a deep breath, his sadness obvious. 'There's so much to explain, Christine, so much, but for now all I can say is that I need you to know that I'm truly, truly sorry.'
'It's okay,' she said, relenting and moving forward, wrapping her arms around him tightly she whispered. 'Thank you for saving me.'
Raoul smiled, with sorrow as well as relief, but before he could open his mouth to tell Christine that her statement wasn't strictly true a gut wrenching shot rang out through the air.
He spun around to face the house, his heart pounding hard in his chest, eyes wide with fear.
Everything became deathly still, even the wind seemed to calm, before an eerie silence crept around them. A few glimmers of light came from the sky, from the moon, but it was the soul shattering sound of Christine's heart broken screams echoing around them that finally broke the silence.