Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.
Summary: ErikRaoul slash fic.
Warning(s): homosexual content, slash!
Pairing(s): ErikRaoul
A/N: Thanks for reviewing. I hope this one is good. The only reason this fic has actually kept going was because of the reviews. Currently, I'm losing my obsession with POTO (which is quite the tragedy), and I'm losing the drive to keep writing. (Current obsession: House/Wilson in the tv show House, MD) And that's bad because I just bought House, MD Season 1, so I'm watching that, I'm getting ideas up the ass with that show, and POTO is fading into the background. I promise I'll finish this fic though. You guys just have to keep me in check. I have to reread the story so many times so that I'm in the right mindset, and I'm listening to the soundtrack right now to force myself to be in the mood. I don't think I'll be able to get this up on Sunday, but I hope I will, and if I don't sorry.
o.o.o.o
Pass Time: Christine's Assumption o-
o.o.o.o
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt
o.o.o.o
Last Time: An organ is sent to Erik via Madame Giry from Raoul. Christine reads who it's from and though she doesn't believe Erik's alive, she has her suspicions that Raoul is still in Paris though everyone believes all the Chagnies had left.
o.o.o.o
-.-
Raoul had not quite woken in the morning, rather he realized that his eyes felt awfully dry and hurt from the sun. Blinking them a couple of times, he first saw his balcony doors. He had not slept after that dream had woken him. In fact, he had stared at the balcony doors in a trance until the moment he decided it was time to get up when the sun's glare through the door began to hurt his eyes. He was not quite sure if he was happy or disappointed that no one had come.
Rolling on his back, Raoul let out a deep sigh and stared at the ceiling. He needed to separate dream from reality. It was all blurring together in his mind. The confusion was starting to annoy him.
The masquerade had definitely been real. He had seen Erik. He had not only seen Erik, but he had seen him with Christine… holding hands. He pushed the thought aside with effort. He had gone to his box and after the sandbag had fallen, Erik had been in his box. Erik had kissed him. Raoul closed his eyes at the memory. Tracing his lips with his fingertips, the blonde could almost feel the heat that existed between them. But he remembered how much it had hurt, not physically, but Erik didn't love him.
He was with Christine.
Raoul fast-forwarded through the night. He could not quite remember how he'd gotten home, but it didn't matter. Then, Erik had come through the balcony doors and started to touch him intimately. Touch him until Raoul could no longer stand it. Then he had spoken Christine's name.
The blonde was beginning to hate Christine, hate the name, and hate her existence. Raoul turned his head toward his balcony. The doors were locked. So, that means it could not have happened. That last part was a dream. He was also wearing his shirt. He could remember Erik's hands on his chest. He had taken it off because he had been hot. It was a dream.
Again, Raoul was torn about whether he should be relieved or not. He was admittedly already traumatized by the experience, but he would have rather been traumatized by the real thing. Christine was a hindrance, but he would do nothing if Erik was happy.
Either way, Raoul reminded himself that he did not love the man. Did not love him so much that he would stay in a city that held nothing but a painful past and more than likely a painful future. Did not love him that it hurt just to be away. Did not love him to the point of just wanting to beg the man to just take him and just pretend. Pretend for at least one moment that he loved him back. It would hurt so much more, but that one moment had to be all he could ask for… if he was in love.
He was so tired of it all. No, he did not love the man at all.
Sleep sounded good to him. He wanted to sleep more, but thoughts of that dream still lingered.
With the probability of experiencing that again, Raoul stood up. He had nothing planned today, but there was only really one thing he felt like doing. He left his room only to enter another one down the hall. The handful of loyal servants, only four of them, knew to stay out of his way. He was certain that they had been the ones to help him last night, and he was actually quite appreciative of them all. In fact, he had grown up with them. They had always been around him, and because of that, they knew that he would not eat until he was hungry. He would not eat unless he felt like it actually.
Lately, they had learned his new habits – the ones he had fallen into after the incident. They knew that Raoul would not eat at all today. The room he had entered was a clear indication of that fact. The house had been quiet, but after a few moments, the mournful sound of the violin being played echoed through the empty halls.
Raoul had grown to love that violin. It was the only time he could clear his mind. It was the only time that he could stop the pain, or maybe he felt the pain but it was easier because he was able to use the violin to express that pain. He felt alive with the violin in his arms. Everything else he owned, he had sent back with his mother. The only things left in the house were a few portraits (only ones his mother hadn't liked) and his clothes. His family abandoned Paris, and in a way, Raoul felt like they had abandoned him too.
That was the depression talking though. He nestled the violin underneath his chin. He appreciated the quiet, but sometimes the lack of voices made him remember he was all alone. He had chosen his life though. The vibrations of the strings soothed his mind, made him feel surprisingly safe and warm. Less isolated.
The staff knew that Raoul would play until he could no longer feel his arms.
o.o.o.o
Upon entering the opera house Madame Giry turned to Christine sharply, "I want you to go directly to your room and I do not want to hear another sound come from there. Meg," Madame Giry turned to her daughter with a less severe look, "accompany Christine directly to her room, understand?"
"Yes, mama," Meg nodded. She wondered why her mother seemed even more angered with Christine. She would have to talk to her about the Phantom of the Opera later in the evening.
Christine shook herself from her thoughts in time to see the look she was receiving from Madame Giry. She stood dumbfounded for a moment before she received a tug from Meg.
The two girls walked in silence to Christine's room, and when they were close, Meg asked the obvious question, "What did you do to anger mama, Christine?"
Christine was not sure, but she thought she knew the answer. Madame Giry had probably noticed that she had opened the note. It was quite a stupid and obvious thing to do, but she could not help if she was curious. So, Christine answered as much, and remembered the real news that had come from the whole night.
"Meg," Christine stopped in front of her door and turned to said girl, "I think Raoul is still in Paris."
"Raoul?" Meg asked confused. Christine was truly acting weird. First, she opens notes that are not for her, and now she thinks her ex-fiancé is still in Paris, "He has left, Christine. Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm perfectly fine. It was because of that note. Raoul was the one who sent it. He sent it to Madame Giry so that she could send it to the Phantom."
"He sent an organ to the Phantom? I thought they were rivals, Christine," Meg was really confused. It made no sense. Raoul and the Phantom had been rivals - rivals because of Christine. She opened the door to Christine's bedroom and wished she had spoken to her mother before talking with her. Christine was keeping something secret, and Meg didn't know what it was just yet. She was certain it was important though.
Christine brushed past Meg into her room in her excitement from the news. Meg rolled her eyes and followed after. Christine and Meg began to light to room. Meg started from the door and Christine from her bed. Meg had just started when Christine let out a horrified scream, which seemed to echo in the room. Rushing over to her side, Meg could not help but scream as well.
There laying on Christine's nightstand were two dead and bloodied rats. Their beady eyes stared blankly ahead and it appeared that the rats had dragged themselves from a rattrap from the trail of blood. It looked like one had gnawed off a leg to free itself, and the other had been there to help the other or rather eat its companion before dying itself. The room was beginning to smell badly, but it was mostly the fact that Christine had almost touched them that had frightened her the most.
"The Phantom of the Opera!" Meg gasped.
Christine, finally calmed and looking away from the dead creatures, paused for a moment before half-heartedly agreeing, "Yes, of course the Phantom of the Opera." It could have been the Phantom of the Opera, but she doubted it. Those rats could have literally crawled onto her bedside nightstand, but she doubted it. Maybe it was another message from the Vicomte. He could be bitter with her for kissing the Erik so long ago, and was just now exacting his revenge when she would think him gone. It was easy to pay a messenger to do his dirty deeds. He had the money and some beggar off the street would do it joyfully for money. Christine was starting to think that Raoul wanted to start a war between them. She almost snorted aloud that the Vicomte thought she would not realize it was him.
Meg noticed this lack of response. In fact, if she remembered carefully, Christine was always the first one to concur rather enthusiastically whenever some drama transpired. It was always the Phantom of the Opera, and Christine would always turn hysterical or excited.
"Christine, what are you hiding?"
Christine didn't want to face Meg. She knew she couldn't lie that well. It would be obvious on her face.
"Tell me the truth."
"Well," she started, "I don't think the Phantom of the Opera is alive."
"How can you not? You saw the sandbag fall so close to Carlotta."
"You see, Meg, that was me. I just wanted to rest a bit, and I ended up dropping the bag by accident."
"What!" Meg cried out, but hushed when Christine looked at her sharply. She continued softly, "So, he's really dead."
"I believe so. I think Raoul is trying to frighten me though."
"The Vicomte?" Meg asked incredulously, "Why would he try to terrorize you? He used to love you."
"He used to. I betrayed him, Meg. I betrayed him." Christine said almost hysterically. She sat heavily on her bed. Her eyes happened to land on the rats still on her nightstand. Wincing, she knew she needed to get someone to throw them away. Raoul was playing with her and she would get him back.
Meg sat beside Christine, as far away from the rats the bed would allow. "How could you have betrayed him, Christine? The Vicomte saved you."
"I kissed the phantom."
Meg stared dumbly at her, "You did what?"
"I kissed the phantom," Christine rushed to say the next part, "But he was going to kill Raoul, and it was the only thing I could think to do."
Meg didn't want to say it, but she was wondering if Raoul was justified in being angry with Christine. The two were bitter rivals, Raoul and the Phantom. Christine had had to choose and she did. Meg was starting to realize Christine did choose, but she chose the Phantom.
"Raoul is trying to get to me," Christine spoke before Meg could respond, "I won't let that happen though. I now know he's here and I won't let him get away with harassing me. I think I'm going to pay him a visit." Christine paused as though thinking, and then she suddenly realized Meg was still in the room. "Okay," Christine faked a yawn, "I think I'll be getting to sleep now. I'll see you tomorrow."
Christine stood up and opened the door waiting for Meg to leave. Meg didn't want to leave, and she knew that Christine was going to do something incredibly stupid. She had the desire to run to the Vicomte's house and warn him, but instead she left the room slowly. After hearing the door shut loudly, Meg walked quickly to her mother, who she assumed was still by the organ. She had to tell her mother that the Phantom of the Opera was dead and Christine was going to do something to the Vicomte.
o.o.o.o
Madame Giry watched as her daughter and her almost daughter left. She would have to come up with a reason that the organ was no longer backstage, but no one needed to know that the Vicomte had bought the Phantom an organ. She smiled faintly to herself when she turned around to see Erik circling the organ eagerly. She could practically feel the excitement radiating off of his very posture.
She didn't want to break the spell that had fallen upon him, but seeing as anyone could just find them, she started, "Erik."
Erik turned to her, a slightly confused look marring his usual expression-less face. Clearing his throat, he suppressed his excitement.
"Christine read the note."
"Yes," Erik walked to her, "the note. May I?"
He held out his hand. He turned his back toward Madame Giry for the illusion of some privacy. He grinned, seeing it was from Raoul, but his mood darkened upon fully reading it. 'Mutual friend' and 'peace offering' were quite painful and telling phrases. So, now that Raoul knew Erik had seen him, the Vicomte was trying to buy his peace. Raoul only wanted peace between them. Friends. As if he could just be a friend with the man. Erik decided that he would force Raoul to see him as more than just someone that needed to be tolerated. He would make the blonde fall in love with him if he had to push the blonde against every wall and molest him.
"Erik?" Madame Giry had watched as he read the note. She couldn't tell what was going on in his mind, but she needed to know if he would be angry or pleased with this new development. She considered the Vicomte quite brave for extending this olive branch, but Erik was not known for accepting olive branches.
"Do not tell anyone that the Vicomte is still here."
"What are you going to do to him?" Madame Giry replied, worried, "He is trying to make peace. How did he even know you were here?"
"I happened upon him at the masquerade." Erik walked to the organ, running his hand along the edges. He answered vaguely, "I do not plan to do… much to him. I will take his gift downstairs with me."
Before Madame Giry could reply, footsteps neared them. Erik quickly hid, watching what would happen.
"Mama," Meg said a little breathlessly, "it's about the Phantom of the Opera."
Madame Giry looked surreptitiously to the shadows.
"He's really dead. Christine dropped the sandbag."
"Really," Madame Giry stated noncommittally. She raised her eyebrows a bit to indicate some surprise. "She will have to punished more."
"Should we tell the others?"
Madame Giry pretended to consider it, "We will just have to wait until Christine decides to share with the rest of us. The damage is done already, and people will still believe in the Phantom of the Opera. They will not believe Christine if she told them anything."
Meg nodded, understanding. Even though she knew Christine had dropped the sandbag, she still had rushed to find her mother. She did not want to walk the opera house alone. "That's not all, mama."
Erik rolled his eyes in the shadows. He would have to remember never to tell Meg anything. It would seem Meg kept no secrets from her mother.
"Christine read the note and believes that Raoul had someone place dead rats on her nightstand."
Again, Madame Giry glanced at the shadows.
"She thinks that Raoul is trying to get his revenge. Then, she kicked me out of the room after saying that she was going to pay him a visit."
Madame Giry once again spared a glance to the shadows, but this time, she was glancing at nothing but shadows. Quickly, with her daughter in tow, she raced to Christine's bedroom.
o.o.o.o
Erik stood behind the mirror of Christine's new room. The woman could not be stupid enough to believe that Raoul had been the one to leave the rats. Why would the Vicomte leave rats on her nightstand? Well, then again, why would he leave rats on her nightstand? That was beside the point though. He would be leaving more than dead rats if Christine thought to do something to the Vicomte.
He glanced into the room, hoping that Christine was not as stupid as he thought.
He couldn't see anything though. All the candles had been blown out.
The door opened revealing Meg and Madame Giry.
Erik watched anxiously. Did Christine leave already? He was ready to bolt out of the opera house and make his way to the Vicomte's house once Madame Giry finally lit the room.
Madame Giry walked closer to the bed and lit the bedside candle. The rats were still present, but Christine was nowhere to be seen.
Cursing, Erik raced to the Vicomte's house.
o.o.o.o
A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!
Sorry I didn't post this on Sunday. In fact, I just finished it at 2 am this morning. Bad cliffhanger and I swear I'll update soon.
So, five reviews for the next installment. Thanks to all those who reviewed so far. I appreciate it:o) Keep me in the right mood to write POTO slash (because the world is definitely lacking in Erik/Raoul slash).