A/N: How was that for some EC action? And for RC fans… the first date! Now, don't be too excited… you think that everything will be suns and roses for them? Hee hee. Don't forget to review please! And special thanks to my new beta, Halley. Thanks girl!
Chapter 12—Visions of a Past LoverWalking through the halls, she twisted her golden ring absently. So much has happened that her mind has been in a whirlwind. Her Voice, her Angel, was indeed a man. A poor man who loved her with such passion that she wasn't sure to make of it. And then there was…
"Christine!"
She turned to see Raoul coming breathlessly towards her. She knew she should get rid of him quickly, but he was her childhood friend. A part of her loved him and wanted to know him better. So she asked him if he wanted to go for a walk.
Being careful of the trap doors and shadows, she showed him her world at the opera house. He listened to her idle stories, though the look on his face she knew he wanted to talk about something other than the mischief her and Meg would get into.
So he told her about the expedition to the North and she found herself overwhelmed with grief. This could be the last time they would see each other after so many years, but in his eyes she knew he wanted her to say the words to stop this from coming to past. As much as part of her wanted to, she couldn't. Not when she had Erik to think about. Poor Erik.
It had been obvious for sometime that sweet Raoul wanted to marry her, but since she could not let that happen, she came up with an idea that would be fine for everyone.
"Why not be engaged? For the whole month? That way we will have fond memories for the rest of our lives and—" she paused, knowing her next words must be chosen wisely. He could hear her right now if he should wish. "It's a happiness that will harm no one."
She would not dare hurt his feelings. Not after what he had done for her despite his sins. This would be a harmless game and Erik would understand her motives. Raoul may never be her lover, but he was her friend and she could at least, for his sake, pretend there was something between them.
xxXXxx
Oddly enough, Christine woke with a renewal sense of tranquility. She couldn't recall a time where she felt so refresh from a night's sleep. By the time her and Meg returned, she fell instantly asleep on her pillow. If there were any dreams she had, she couldn't remember them. And she appreciated it.
Brushing her hair, Christine noticed the time and gasped. It was quarter to eight. Raoul would be over in at least fifteen minutes!
A soft knock came at her door and Meg walked in, her eyes on the floor. "Hi Christine," she spoke quietly, that Christine almost didn't hear her.
"Hi Meg," Christine said, her brown eyes full of trepidation. "About yesterday…"
Meg snapped her head up, her own eyes swimming with tears. "I am so sorry Christine!"
"No!" she interrupted. "Don't be. Lord knows I had it coming for some time. I don't know what I had gotten into me that I would give up like that, but I'm glad you were there with me. Honestly, don't feel bad. I might need another hit along the road."
Meg laughed, feeling a bit better. "You really scared the Hell out of me, Dawson."
"Me too." Christine smiled and hugged Meg. Looking over her shoulder, Meg's eyes widened. "Omigod!" she exclaimed. "Your date! Are you still planning on going?"
Christine nodded determinedly. "It's the normality I need, plus I've waited for so long for this moment! You think I'm going to step down?"
Meg chuckled, shaking her head. "Go get him Christine."
"Scoot so I can get ready!"
Meg continued laughing, the uneasiness fleeing from the pleasant release of joking with a friend. Christine needed to get out to clear her mind and so did she. Vaguely wondering if Stacey and Jamie wanted to grab a movie, Meg found herself stopping outside the bathroom. The message left before hadn't left her mind or thoughts as she stared inside.
You better not be here, Meg thought with pure hatred. She doesn't deserve you, you good for nothing poltergeist. Do her a favor and walk into the light so she'll never have to fear you ever again.
The door angrily slammed closed, knocking Meg to the ground.
xxXXxx
Five after eight, Raoul was leaning outside his car waiting for Christine. He had rung their room and Meg told him she would be out there in a minute. Adele's daughter sounded a bit winded and he hoped she wasn't falling ill or anything. Now with it being close to opening night, getting sick wasn't the best thing to happen to anyone. They were lucky that Jamie would be back in time for the show.
His stomach fluttered as the seconds passed. It had been so long since he been on a date that Raoul was worried he forgot the basics. Had it been some other girl his brother or a friend would have set him up he wouldn't have cared, but this was Christine. And she was not like some other girl you would meet at a bar or on the street. She was special. And who knew what could happen today?
He heard the door open and looked up, his jaw slightly dropping as Christine came walking out. She was… stunning, absolutely gorgeous. Raoul's breath fled his lungs as he gaped at the approaching beauty.
Her brown ringlets weren't up like they usually were, and instead they cascaded down, framing her petite face. It was then he realized how fair her ivory complexion was with just a dab of make-up to bring out the hazel in her eyes and the ruby red of her lips. She was simplicity dressed in a dusty pink peasant top and a dark brown skirt down to her knees. Always the modest one a fact that Raoul greatly admired about her.
Christine blushed, only fueling her loveliness, he noted. Angelic, he thought. She looks like an angel.
She cleared her throat, getting his attention. Raoul chuckled nervously, averting his gaze to her feet. Damn. She has cute toes.
Snapping his head up, Raoul grinned, fighting the urge to kiss her full lips right away. Angel… yes. Edible, to say the least, a painfully yes.
Taking a deep breath, Raoul stepped forward opening the car door for her. "Shall we go?"
Christine beamed at him. "Yes."
xxXXxx
The first couple hours flew by so quickly to Christine's surprise, but it was expected from the fun they were having.
Raoul told her everything he knew about the different sites he took her to—Notre Dame, the Panthéon, and the Eiffel Tower. His pride for his city couldn't be concealed as he explained the history to her in a variety of tones. Christine listened in awe and only interrupted to ask a question or make a comment to something he said.
Raoul was enjoying himself immensely. Never had he met a woman who was enthused with the historical references. Mostly the girls he had gone out with would yawn or ignore him completely unless he asks them a question about themselves. Christine wasn't like that. She was an avid learner and paid attention to everything he had to say. It made him feel appreciated. But that didn't mean he didn't give her time to talk freely.
Christine told him more about herself. She told him about her parents and what it was like to move around with her father after her mother's death.
"It was hard the first few months," she admitted. "My father was like a ghost. Sometimes he was there, sometimes he wasn't. I never saw him so hopeless before."
Raoul was amazed by what she was revealing to him and kept it locked safely. It was obvious she didn't tell many people about her parents and for her to have such complete confidence in him made his heart swell.
As they walked down the Champs-Elysées, Raoul never felt so at ease before. Being with Christine was quite a comfortable experience that he could be himself. It didn't take much to impress her and she was easy to please, which Raoul found he liked very much. Cat had been too high-strung and didn't appreciate the simple things he would do for her. Doing something relaxing such as walking wasn't her cup of tea and she would rather hop in a limo or taxi rather be out in the fresh air. And if he wanted to point out some interesting fact he read, Cat would snore and say something like, "Who cares about the past? They're long dead."
His brow furrowed. Now that he thought about it, Cat would have never agreed to do something like this. Strolling down Paris and exploring the monuments, she would have laughed in his face. "We're not some dumb tourists," she would probably say. And bad enough (he would admit), Raoul would let it drop and make plans to do it himself, which never would occur. True he had seen these places millions of times, but who said a citizen couldn't visit them? No one would care if he lived here or not.
I really did let Cat run my life, he thought in awe. And I didn't bother to prevent it.
Looking down at Christine, he mentally kicked himself. Here I am on a date with one of the sweetest people in the world and I'm thinking of my ex. Adele was right. I have been in love with the ideal of Cat. And now, I have the perfect woman by my side. What more could I ask for? She must be an angel sent to save me from my solitude.
Smiling gently, Raoul closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The scent of wild jasmines flooded his senses, placing him under a pleasant spell. I could get use to that…he thought dreamily. Opening his eye, Raoul glanced at her hand and wondered if he would be too forward if he should to…
His fingers reached out to take hold of her hand. Christine looked at him and smiled sweetly, silently okaying his action.
His male pride now soaring to incredible heights, Raoul relished the hold of her small hand in his large palm. Her skin was so soft, not rough. Oh yeah. Definitely could get use to this.
Christine, however, was enjoying Raoul's attention and the friendly silence between them. He was one of the very few guys she knew who wouldn't fill up the gaps with meaningless conversations. And when he took her hand, she couldn't hold back the silly grin she knew she had on her face. Everything she had hoped for was coming true in this single moment. Until…
"Christine…" he grunted as he collapsed on top of her, spent, his body sweaty and hot. His face was buried in the crook of her neck and she did all she could to not let the tears fall.
No more! Please God, let this be the last, she silently prayed to her God, but tonight her wish didn't come true.
He lifted his head to stare into her tearful eyes, a tortured hiss escaping from his lips.
"Christine… please no tears. Let me love you like the Angel you are to me," he moaned, his body hardening once more. His kind blue eyes glowed with desire and love that she wanted to scream out all sorts of curses at him.
"No! Raoul don't!"
Christine stopped abruptly, her hazel irises glazed over in a hazy gaze. But once she could feel him slamming into her, she cried out in alarm, her body stiffening in reflex and fear.
"Christine?" Raoul said, turning to see what made her stop so suddenly. Her face was contorted in pain that his heart skipped a beat. "Christine!"
He grabbed her shoulders and gave her a good shake. "Christine!" he yelled in her face.
Immediately, she snapped out whatever she was in. Staring confusingly at Raoul for a moment it all sank in and she jumped back. "Don't," she choked out.
"Don't what?" he demanded, frowning. "Are you alright? You're not in pain, are you?"
"W-what?" Christine squeaked.
"You looked like someone was killing you," he pointed out, his brow creased in worry. "Do you need to sit down or something?"
"No… I…" Christine looked around, relieved that there were tons of people around. A few interested onlookers stopped to watch the young couple. "Nothing."
"Sure didn't look like nothing," Raoul commented, giving her a suspicious look. "Christine you're shaking! Please tell me what I can do!"
You raped me, you bastard! Her mind angrily accused. How do you think I feel? And then, it hit her.
Raoul couldn't have raped her. They were in the middle of plain sight for God's sake! Wait…
A vision…
Raoul… not this Raoul… but another.
I'm Christine Daae and Vicomte Raoul de Chagny raped me, she thought in stunning horror. Oh my God! It was him all along! My first vision… that wasn't a dream about Raoul but a recount of his great-great grandfather!
"Christine, talk to me," Raoul pleaded, feeling helpless as his date struggled with whatever internal turmoil that was taking place. Something was out of place and he was terrified. Extremely terrified.
Keep your cool. Last thing you should do is freak him out or worse have him think you're a lunatic, Christine told herself. Though by judging the look on his face, it was too late.
"I'm okay. Really." Christine forced a smile to show she meant it, though inside she was cringing at the revelation. Why now? Why during what should be the happiest time of her life?
He's displeased and he's trying to stop this, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. Raoul's bad. He'll hurt you if you don't put an end to this soon. You know it. He hurt you before and he would do it again. People don't change.
"C'mon, Raoul. It was a small headache. Must be my sinuses or something." And with that she chuckled like it was no big deal.
End this now! The voice screamed. End it!
Ignoring the voice, Christine grabbed Raoul's hand and squeezed it tightly. "I'm fine. Honestly."
Raoul didn't look convinced, but didn't argue. "All right. I have a surprise for you. I know you're going to like it. I know I will."
She tried not to let her smile drop, but panic began to jump in her stomach.
I TOLD YOU! It screamed. He's going to rape you! He's going to break you! Don't let him! DON'T LET HIM!Yet, Christine didn't obey the voice.
xxXXxx
"I had to pull a few strings since it was short notice, but being a de Chagny, I'll admit, has it perks," Raoul explained, grinning gently as he led Christine inside one of his favorite places in all of Paris—the Louvre. As a child, he and Philip would spend hours admiring the different pieces of art and sculptures. And for a short time, Raoul wanted to be sculptor when he grew up, just like Michelangelo.
He eagerly led Christine through the halls, now and then stopping to view a painting. He couldn't wait to show her what he planned, which took a lot of convincing for the curator to allow it. That plus he promised a nice box for one of the showings of Faust, seeing how quickly opening night was filled. Raoul wanted to make this a day memorable for Christine, something she could tell her friends back home. Or the children, he thought subconsciously.
Christine, still shaken from the vision, hid it well by her unabashed exclaims and looks at the cherished arts. She told herself firmly, that no matter what happens, she wasn't going to turn this date into a disaster. No matter how much he wanted it to end, Christine wasn't going to allow it. This was her life and she could be with whomever she wants; phantom be damned.
He's here, whispered the raspy voice. And he's angry.
Shut up! Christine shouted. Shut up!
He's unhappy. You shouldn't have disappointed him. You know better than that. You know better than to mess with his wrath.
He doesn't exist! She cried. He's not real.
He does and he is, the chilling voice replied. He's here, right now, inside your mind…
NO!"Christine?"
The brunette looked up to see Raoul standing near another entrance to a different part of the museum.
"We're almost there."
She nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment to respond. Quietly and in a reverence manner, she followed him out, daring not to look behind her. If she did, he would catch her. He was always there. Always watching, always with that piercing gaze. There was never an escape. Never from Erik.
xxXXxx
Raoul held her hand, his smile growing each passing second as they drew near to their destination. Glancing behind his shoulder, Christine's eyes were closed just like he asked. He thought this would be fun for him guiding her to the surprise, the suspense building within her stomach without the gift of sight. But strangely, Christine was adamant to do so, until finally she acquiesced on her own.
Never had he seen her act skittishly. Could it be she didn't like him that much? He never gave her a reason to fear him… but he was a man. And men don't usually understand women's behavior patterns.
"You can open your eyes," he breathed, his excitement bursting like firecrackers on Bastille Day. He held his breath, as Christine slowly opened her eyes, waiting for her response.
His request wasn't a normal one, but Raoul was glad that the curator went through with it.
In the center of Michelangelo's masterpieces was a picnic lunch set up for them. Christine walked over to it, her face practically glowing. "Oh Raoul, you shouldn't…"
"I never done this before," he blurted, keeping a straight face as she turned to him. "Not with Cat. Or any girl I dated. I know that you, Christine, would appreciate this more. T-this is my favorite wing and I wanted to share it with you."
Christine's lips curved upwards in a delighted smile. "I love it."
He relaxed. She didn't think this was stupid. "Hungry?"
"Famish!" she exclaimed and laughed.
For the next few hours, they ate and talked about anything and everything. Christine wouldn't lie to herself to say she was a bit alarm when Raoul told her they had the museum to themselves. It wasn't that she didn't trust him; she did, well, until that vision. Now, she felt silly when all he wanted was to have lunch with no interruptions. He wasn't going to hurt her.
Though, as she nibbled on her cold chicken sandwich, her thoughts drifted over to the Vicomte, err Comte. Raoul looked so much like him except for the style of hair. But the boyish looks were there, those warm blue eyes, and charming smile. Then she wondered if he knew that she resembled his great-great grandmother. If he did, then he hadn't said a word about the unlikely canniness. Then another idea came to Christine. What happened really between Daae, the Comte, and the Phantom? It didn't take a genius to put two and two together to come up with Daae's spite for the Comte. He forced her into an unwanted union and raped her, while seeing it as completely legal. Did Raoul truly know how much of a monster his ancestor was?
He must have, she reasoned. Or why else would he publicize his denouncement of his family? She was preoccupied thinking too much about the matter that she failed to hear Raoul's question.
"I said, 'Do you like the Garnier'?" Raoul repeated, amusement twinkling in his eyes.
"Oh, yes. Yes I do," Christine answered. "I'm still kind of in awe that you would hire me."
"And why not? You have talent, Christine. Don't forget that," he said, stating the obvious. But still hearing it coming from him made her blush. "Thank you."
"I hope you don't mind me asking, but how come you weren't working at the Met?" This was something that had been bothering Raoul. A voice like Christine's wouldn't go unnoticed by any corporation. They would be fools not to hire her on the spot.
"I would have liked to but…" and her voice trailed off. She had a feeling that Raoul would ask her. Who wouldn't knowing her history to the theatre? Even Heather was confused that Christine wouldn't try to work where her parents did. She bit her lower lip, trying to decide whether or not she should tell him. He would think it was stupid, she thought.
"You can tell me," he spoke sincerely.
Gazing into his eyes, Christine was done for. How could anyone not concede to this wonderful man? Licking her lips tentatively, Christine replied:
"I couldn't. A part of me wouldn't even go back, not even to see a show or anything. I loved growing up there, but it was also where my parents met and where my mother died. I never could bring myself to go back to the place where I once called home. They did call me… several times with a job position but I always turned them down."
Raoul reached out to squeeze her hand for comfort. A soft breeze blew in, almost sighing for her loss. "I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't have brought this up—"
"No. It's alright, really." She lifted her head up; her hazel eyes filled with unshed tears. "I probably shouldn't keep it inside. It usually ends up biting me back." And she chuckled, knowing how true that was.
Raoul nodded, giving her another squeeze. "I know that feeling. Thank you for confiding in me."
"Raoul?"
"Yes Christine?" His face hovered near hers. He was so close that he could almost taste her full lips.
"Is it true that you condemn your great-great grandfather?"
Damn. Raoul leaned back and sighed. "It is. Why do you ask?"
She shrugged. "Curious, I suppose."
He cocked his head. "Well, I guess I could divulge you. It's nothing, well; most people wouldn't care for my excuses since it was in the past. And face it, we can't change it no matter how much we would like to."
Christine nodded for him to continue. "You know the scandal surrounding my great-great grandmother and the so-called specter of a Phantom? Turns out, as you know, the Phantom was a living person who was obsessed, no, in love… um both with her. And she was in love with him—"
"Wait. Did you say she was in love with the Phantom?" Christine repeated in astonishment.
Raoul nodded once. "Yeah. Strange? But it didn't matter that he stalked her, killed for her, or was a bit estrange when it came to courting properly. The fact was Christine Daae was in love with the Phantom of the Opera and not my great-great grandfather that everyone wants so desperately to believe."
"Oh." Christine rubbed the back of her neck. In love? She was in love with him? And he loved her… It made somewhat sense. Then it hit her. The name…
"Erik," she whispered.
"What?" Raoul asked. She shook her curls. "Um, nothing. Go on."
"Oh, well, that obviously didn't sit too well for my great-great grandfather, as you could imagine. So when Christine went to him to basically tell him it was the quits, the prestigious Vicomte went nuts and locked her in a bedroom. He had it in his head that the Phantom was still controlling her, even though she told him that she always loved the Phantom. Always and my grandfather was an innocent. So, my great-great grandfather forced her to marry him and the rest is history," he finished, taking a sip of white wine.
"Oh my…" Christine's eyes widened. "How did you find out?"
"My great-great grandmother's diary," Raoul answered. "She really loved that guy, the Phantom. And while she was in my great-great grandfather's house, she would write with such optimism that he would save her from this. He apparently had a way of doing things, like a ghost, that no other normal person could do. She referred to him as Angel throughout the book. I wished… I wished she didn't lived the way she did. The Comte was unstable since the 'incident' when she was kidnapped during an opera and he almost died in the Phantom's labyrinth for trying to rescue her. Tragic, I know, how three lives were destroyed on a single night."
"But what of the Phantom? Do you know what ever happened to him?"
"I'm afraid I don't. Well, now, currently he's still residing in my theatre, but in life? Not a clue. I tried finding some answers but there's no record of what happened afterwards. A body was found in the cellars, skeleton actually, and many took for granted that was the feared Opera Ghost. But from reading about him through my great-great grandmother it didn't seem like him to go like that. He was a genius, pure and simple, both artistically and musically. He knew things that no other person knew in the time period; he was a traveler, a storyteller, and a magician. Mind you, this is from what Christine wrote. If he were to die, he would have gone with one last performance before the grand exit, you know? But nothing! There was nothing."
"But he must have died at the Garnier, otherwise his spirit wouldn't be there," Christine pointed out.
"If you believed that. But those who know are dead and it's not like we can contact them." Raoul chuckled at his little joke, not noticing the paleness that crept onto Christine's cheeks. "So that's the story. After reading what happened, I despised my ancestor from here on out. He wasn't the man that I thought he was and since my family couldn't get that, I turned my back and said, 'Screw you'."
It all makes perfect sense, Christine thought. Christine Daae loved the Phantom and he probably died, thinking that she didn't love him after all. That's horrible! I understand now. Maybe I could tell him that she loved him! Most ghosts have unfinished business before they could be in peace and this might be it. If I told the Phantom she did love him, he might leave me alone!
It was wishful thinking, but it seemed liable to her. Why else would the tormented ghost be chasing after her? He was trying to send her message, perhaps throughout her childhood. Or Christine Daae. Whoever it was, Christine realized, the Phantom only wanted to be loved and with this knowledge, he could be laid to rest for good. She at last found the bit she needed to get rid of him. And she had Raoul de Chagny to thank for.
He doesn't know how much this means to me, but maybe one day I'll tell, Christine thought and then mentally shook her head. No. Once this is all over, I'm going on a looong vacation and clearing this out of my head forever.
"I think that's enough of depressing topics in our lives. There's other galleries here I would like to show you."
xxXXxx
The sun out in the distance rolled in, the new rays indicating a brand new day trickled over the lands and the many rooms, all except one. How fitting and ironic it was for the woman once called Angel to be stuck in a tomb of darkness. Four months passed and she was in the grip of a rude awakening.
Her normal colorful, pleasant disposition shriveled up into a pale, sluggish countenance. The lively blue eyes were now dead and miserable. Hope had fled her the moment she discovered her secret. He will never come for her now. Not when she was infected with a disease so horrible and life threatening. A wave of nausea would remind her of her treacherous body and its creation that was meant for him and him alone.
The day the doctor confirmed her worst fears; she knew her life was at last sealed to her tormentor. Who would want her now? She was soiled, dirty, and impure for the rest of her days. There was no escape of what she will become from looking into a mirror.
Nine months…
And her womb stirred from the intense hatred within.
xxXXxx
It was close to ten by the time Raoul and Christine returned to the apartment. Ever the gentleman, he got out of his car to open the door for her.
Christine enjoyed being doted upon and she had loved being with Raoul like this, but her head throbbed with intense pain. He didn't bore her or drove her to be ill, but it had been the damn visions.
After leaving the Louvre, they went to Versailles where Christine was hit with an entourage of memories, all negative, of course. Raoul was concerned yet she waved him off, giving excuses out that the air conditioning was bothering her or something. No way would she ever tell him that while they walk side by side, she was imagining them having sex. And it wasn't in a good way either.
On the ride back, Christine was feeling nauseous, but only because of the latest vision she experienced.
As soon as she got into the apartment, she was locking herself in her room for some down time.
"Home sweet home," he said, walking her up to the door.
"Home sweet home," she echoed, a tiny smile on her lips. "I had a wonderful time, Raoul. Thank you."
"My pleasure," Raoul murmured, stopping her by taking both of her hands. Christine looked up in shock, though she couldn't make his expression.
"Christine…" he started, paused to lick his lips. "I… I wanted to say, that I wasn't going to this ever again. Not after Cat. It hurt too much and I didn't want to go through it again. I was afraid… no terrified to take that leapt for years. But I'm glad that I did with you. You're one of the kindest and most generous people I know and I felt free. I was free to be myself around you and I liked it very much. Perhaps… there's a chance we could do this again? Some time soon, maybe?"
Christine beamed and moved a little closer. "I would like that very much Raoul."
"Good." He stepped forward, his face inches from hers. "Christine…"
She tilted upwards; her lips parted as he sealed the space between them, and captured her in a heart-pounding kiss. Her small hands reached up to wrap themselves in his hair, pulling him closer as he lavished her mouth slowly, promising her of what's to come.
He gently broke apart, his breath uneven as they both stared into each other's eyes. "I, uh, see you tomorrow?" he offered weakly, his mind not functioning 100 percentat the moment.
Christine's chocolate irises gleamed. "Good-night Raoul."
"Good-night."
He waited until she was inside. He waited until she went into the elevator to her floor. And he waited until she was probably in her apartment, telling Meg what happened. And while he stood out there, waiting, Raoul was in awe over what passed between them.
Eventually, his body gained some power for him to stir away from the building, his head stuck in the clouds.
This was a big step. For both of them, he realized, as he headed to his car.
Raoul opened the car door and jerked away. No!
A tornado had appeared to go rampant inside the vehicle as he said his good-byes to Christine, as he gaped in anger and terror.
On the driver's seat was a message that Raoul thought he had seen for the last time—
ShE's MiNE!
TBC…
Please don't forget to review! And also, I've never been to the Louvre so hopefully this came out alright. Thanks!