Good morning!

I'm glad some of you are approving of the way I'm writing Raoul. Don't get me wrong, I'm not the biggest Raoul fan in the world, and this is ultimately an EC phic, but Raoul doesn't always have to be evil. (Even though in almost every other Phanfic I've written, he is.)

Basically, Raoul is not a bad guy. One reviewer put it well...he just fell in love...and you can't blame a guy for that.

Enjoy!

Nico

She heard voices around her, but only hints and snips of conversations.

"…nasty bump…"

"…lucky to be alive…"

"…behind the curtains with the Vicomte…"

Christine's eyes fluttered open, met with equal darkness.

"Erik?" She muttered.

Immediately, a cool hand came to rest upon her cheek.

As her eyes focused, she saw the shocked face of Madame Giry. "Christine?" She said, her voice slightly urgent. "What did you just say?"

Christine turned her head away from Madame Giry to see the concerned face of Meg Giry, standing next to the theater's physician.

"What happened?" Christine asked, disoriented.

Meg came to kneel beside her mother. "A flat fell," she said, grasping her friend's hand.

Christine brought a shaking hand to her right cheek and winced as her fingertips brushed the lump they found there.

"You'll be alright," Meg said reassuringly. "And Raoul is okay too."

"Raoul?" Christine repeated, sounding confused.

"Yes, Raoul…the Vicomte…oh, Doctor are you sure she's alright?" Meg asked, sounding worried.

"She'll be fine once she gets some rest," the doctor said tiredly.

"Yes, rest is exactly what she needs," Madame Giry said abruptly. "Meg, please say goodnight to Christine."

Meg looked at her mother, confused by the sudden brashness of her tone. She leaned over and kissed the still confused brow of Christine. "Goodnight, Christine. Feel better."

The doctor followed Meg out, shutting the door lightly behind him.

"You gave us all quite a scare," Madame Giry informed Christine, coming to help her sit up and drink some water. After Christine had drank the contents of the glass, Madame Giry sat in the chair that had been brought to Christine's bedside. "Now I know you are disoriented, but I must ask you something."

Christine regarded the older woman, noting that her eyes were wild with some unidentifiable emotion.

"Anything, Madame," Christine replied.

Madame Giry rose, nervously fiddling with the thin row of pearls at her neck. "Whose name did you speak, child…whose name was the first you thought of upon waking?"

Christine bit her lip.

She had thought she had said his name in a dream.

Apparently, that was not the case.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Madame," Christine said, feeling utterly guilty.

Madame Giry suddenly knelt beside her. "Don't lie to me, Christine," she said urgently. "I know whose name you spoke," she continued. "I know you've seen him…"

"Madame Giry," Christine said nervously, her throat tight. Never before had she seen the always-composed woman so frantic.

"Christine, I love you as a daughter," she continued, smoothing Christine's hair with a soft hand. "And as my daughter I must forbid you to continue any contact with…with him."

Christine blinked. Madame Giry was so certain that Christine had seen…perhaps even spoken with Erik…that the young woman could no longer deny it.

"But Madame Giry," Christine whimpered, "Why?"

"Dear God," the older woman sighed. "I am too late. Too late…"

"Madame Giry, why shouldn't I contact him…why does he live down there…who is he?"

Christine was now almost completely out of bed, her excitement and anxiety over Madame Giry's knowledge of Erik's existence making her forget her injuries.

Madame Giry had walked away. She now stood with her back to Christine, staring out of her small window into the darkening night sky. "He is a broken man," She said suddenly, her voice void of emotion. "He knows nothing of proper social behavior. He operates on threats and violence, for that is all he was ever treated with."

"How do you know that?" Christine asked meekly, the truth of Erik's past too intriguing a mystery to ignore. "Has he spoken to you?"

Madame Giry shook her head. "He's never spoken to me of his past," she admitted. "But I can see the shards of his soul in his eyes…those terrible eyes…"

A knock on the door disrupted the spell that Madame Giry had woven.

"Christine, are you awake?"

Raoul's voice floated softly into the room. Madame Giry sighed and opened the door.

Christine noticed that Raoul too had sustained injury; a large white piece of gauze covered his forehead, bright red blood visible through the bandage.

"Are you alright?" Raoul asked, his face worried.

Christine nodded and began to reply when Madame Giry interrupted. "She is fine," the matriarch told Raoul. "She needs rest."

Raoul nodded, coming to Christine's bedside. "Then sleep, Little Lotte," he said softly, kissing the top of her head. Then, lowering his mouth to her ear he whispered so only she could hear, "Sleep and dream of me."

Christine nodded, easing back onto the pillows of her bed. She watched, smiling weakly as Raoul left.

Madame Giry had watched the exchange wordlessly. She tenderly pulled the coverlet up to Christine's chin, placing a cool hand to her cheek.

"Beware, child, of this dangerous situation you now find yourself in," she said ominously. "There are too many hearts involved that stand to be broken."

Christine watched as Madame Giry hurried out of her room.

She couldn't be certain, but she thought she heard the older woman hitch on a sob as the door closed behind her.

Erik watched as Madame Giry left Christine's small room.

He couldn't help but feel utterly betrayed by the woman.

Why such morose warnings….why now after she had helped him all these years?

His eyes fell back to the slight, pale figure that lay innocently seductive across sheets white as snow. Even from across the room, Erik could see the ugly purple mark of a bruise marring the porcelain skin of her cheek.

His heart wrenched as he realized it was he that had ruined such beauty.

Strangely, the realization was one he had come to repeatedly over the years. It seemed that the destruction of beauty was his lot in life.

Destruction, however, had not been originally on Erik's agenda as he had silently navigated the catwalk, desperate to get a better glimpse of Christine as she sang…

He supposed it was only fitting that he should be hypnotized by the beauty of her voice, as so many had been bewitched by his in the past.

He had watched, his eyes sliding closed as his entire being was enveloped by the pure notes that radiated from Christine's body…

And just as quickly as it had begun it ended, leaving Erik once more in the cold darkness.

He had watched as Meg enthusiastically embraced her friend.

He had smiled as the little twit mentioned a tutor, causing Christine to blush and stammer.

And finally, Erik had watched as he approached, foppishly complimenting Christine, and then suddenly pulling her into the lush folds of the stage's back curtains, hidden from Erik's sight.

Rage had blinded him.

Making quick calculations based on the positionin which he had last seen that...boy, Erik quickly untied a particularly heavy scenery flat.

It wasn't until he heard Raoul's shouts for help that Erik realized he had missed his intended target and hit Christine instead.

Now, he watched as her chest rose and fell in steady movements, silently thanking whatever powers that be that he had not killed her.

He would not have been able to live with himself.

Suddenly overwhelmed by the urgent need to touch her, to assure himself that she truly was alright, Erik silently slid through the mirror-wall.

As he approached her on muted feet, he suppressed the rage he felt towards the Giry woman, reminding himself that if it wasn't for her, he would ultimately have died that night so long ago.

Yet why? Why would she forbid Christine contact with him? What had he ever done to indicate the violence…the threats she spoke of?

And then, Erik realized, that Madame Giry was just another female that saw him as nothing more than a monster.

He paused in his procession towards Christine.

She would see eventually see him in the same way.

Erik brought his hand to his heart, trying to stop the pain he felt there as he came to that realization. Just as quickly as he had entered the room, he turned to leave, unwilling to subject himself to being hurt once more.

"Erik?"

Her voice stopped him in his tracks.

He turned slowly, looking back to see Christine sitting up in bed, her glorious hair tumbling about her face and shoulder in sensuous torrents. Her eyes were wide, almost…happy?…to see him.

"I thought you had left me," she said, her voice slightly accusing. "Why have you come back?"

Erik cleared his throat. "I heard of your accident," he said, feeling guilty. And then, forcing his voice to sound cold again added, "I came to see if you were alright. Now I know you are, so I will take my leave."

He turned again.

"Wait!" Christine said urgently, suddenly getting up from her bed.

"You shouldn't be up…" Erik began, but then stopped as he watched the slender woman pad over to him in stocking feet, her white nightshift clinging to her curves, tormenting his very soul.

She looked up at him, her eyes liquid pools of eagerness.

"I missed you," she said.

By the tone of her voice, Erik knew she was being honest.

"You did?" He whispered, looking somewhere over her head.

"Yes," she replied.

He closed his eyes as he felt her breath on his throat.

"I feared you would not return; I feared I had done something wrong," she said quietly.

Erik felt a pang of guilt again. "You did nothing wrong."

"Then why did you make me leave you?" She asked, sounding like a spurned child.

Erik's chest tightened. Because it wasn't real…

It wasn't real…

Christine placed a hand on his bare cheek, pulling his gaze down to her.

His heart wrenched as he looked at her beautiful face.

"Take me back there," she pleaded softly.

The crushing, possessive need to have her…to hold her against his body…to keep her with him always…finally overwhelmed Erik.

And though he knew that it was only a matter of time before his hypnotizing spell wore off and Christine finally saw him for the monster he truly was, he obeyed her, silently leading her once more into darkness deep as hell.