A/N: This here is my other favorite chapter. So far there's a lot of dark tones going on in this story, I decided to lighten things a little bit with some RC fluff. But it doesn't take away the complete mood of this chapter. Hee hee. Thank you again for the kind thoughts and to my beta Halley. Please don't forget to review!

Chapter 14- Trapped in Darkness

Suicide… no… murder.

Joseph Buquet hung by the Opera Ghost in the third cellar!

He should have kept his mouth shut… old fool said Madame Giry.

Mutilated and blood… blood everywhere. His blood on her…

Erik!

Christine was in and out of consciousness; she had no memory of what happened once Joseph Brolin's body was hanging in front of her eyes. She didn't know where she was or what was happening. She didn't know who was with her, if there even was someone with her. A blur. A great big blur of colors only to end into darkness. Sweet darkness, friendly night. The never-ending oblivion she continued to find herself in.

And a voice…

There was a heavenly tenor singing, drawing her ever close to the necessity of her mind; away from the world, her friends, and her newfound love. Oh, how easily it was to follow, to let go of the reality Christine once knew…

Yet, a single ray of light managed to fight its way through the deep layers of shadows, successfully attracting her to its lovely allure. And from this beam was also a voice. And this siren was calling her to wake, pleading for her not to give in. So tender and warm was this beckon that Christine strained to reach the end. It was safety.

But, she was pulled back into the plunging obscurity. There was a struggling war taking place between her heart and soul. Her heart longed to be in the sun, to be free; alas her soul was crying to be with the compelling darkness. Her mind was torn over which side to go—the light or dark? Both were welcoming though only one must be denied. But which? Which road dare she travel?

"Mom and Dad, what should I do? What should I do?" she begged. "What is safe? Where do I belong?"

Christine's eyes snapped open. Apparently, she made a decision… for the time being.

She moaned, her hand rubbing her throbbing forehead. She was awake to find herself with a headache. Christine went to stand up, only to be met with a tidal wave of dizziness that was set to keep her in bed. Cursing inwardly, she laid back in the crop of pillows. So far, nothing seemed to be going her way.

Looking around, Christine's headache worsened at each twist of her head. Giving up, she kept still; her only view was that of a door.

Frowning, Christine decided to chance the pain for a quick peek of the room. The pressure heightened once more, but it was enough for her to realize her situation. She was not in her own bed or room. There was no light or clock around for her to see what time of day it was. There was nothing but darkness.

She was carefully wrapped in blankets and had enough cushioning to secure her comfort, but the maddening thought of her in an unfamiliar place and the knowledge of not knowing where she was pushing her to the edge. And her only discomfort coming from her own body wasn't helping the predicament all that much.

Christine continued to stare ahead at the vacant door. Wherever she was, seemingly she was only permitted to see her exit but with no way of reaching it. Her own traitorous self confined her to the bed.

Why does this feel somewhat familiar? She pondered. I feel as if I've been here before…

The déjà vu sensation furthered her confusion until her memory bank decided to pose an inopportune onslaught of recollections. The room with no light… trapped no escape and the Vicomte…

Christine's body stiffened at a creak from behind the door, her form shaking as the door opened. Not again! Oh God, please not again!

"Hey, you're awake!"

And to her surprise and relief, Meg entered diligently with a huge smile on her face. "Thank Heavens! We were afraid we lost you or something."

The dancer sat on the edge of the bed, her entire countenance glowing. "You had us scared Dawson."

"I had you scared?" Christine said, her cheeks rushing with embarrassment. "You had me scared! I thought you were him!"

Meg frowned. "When you say 'him', you mean the Phantom him or the guy raping your past life him?"

"The second one," Christine answered, gently shaking her head. "I was this close to hyperventilating."

"Wouldn't want that to happen. Happy to know it's me?"

"Immeasurably." And Christine chuckled. "What happened?"

"You mean, you don't remember? Cherie, you fainted when Brolin came down—"

"Argh. I remember that part." The brunette shuddered, not wanting to think about poor Brolin. She had Cat's death to worry about and she didn't want this one to be stuck in her conscience.

"Well, it's been a couple days. I won't say anymore on you-know-what unless you want me to. Anyways, after you fainted, Doctor Aston said there were no injuries on you so we didn't have to take you to the hospital. I didn't want to take you home because I was worried that we might still have that unwanted guest waiting to nab you during your weakest state. So, Raoul offered to take you to his place and here we are! I hope you're comfy." And the blonde smirked.

Christine rolled her eyes, only to stifle a groan. "That's all? Man, I feel like I was slammed against a brick wall repeatedly."

"Luckily you weren't. Look, there's probably something else I should tell you." Meg dropped her voice. "While you were out, you were… talking."

"Talking?"

Meg nodded. "Yeah in a different language. I think it was Scandinavian but I'm not sure. Neither was Maman or Raoul. We tried waking you up but wherever you were, you were in it deep. I was terrified out of my mind that he somehow got to you without knowing."

"You didn't tell anyone, did you?" Christine couldn't help the tinge of panic that rode. If she was scared about telling Meg, and if anyone else were to find out, Christine was positive she would lose it.

"No. Your secret is still safe, though I think now might be a good time to let Raoul in on this. He was worried sick! He hadn't left your side for a single moment! I was able to get him to leave you an hour ago so he could rest a little. Christine, you can't keep this hiding forever. Sooner or later Raoul's going to demand for answers and if you don't tell him, then I won't hesitate to."

"Meg, I'm not a child who needs to be told what to do," she retorted. "I know. But it's not simple. It's not like I can just blurt it out."

"And why not? It would make the transition easier."

"What if I scare him away? I like him Meg. I like him so much!"

"You didn't scare me. See I'm still here. And so was Heather. Raoul is a pretty open-minded guy and you're not giving him enough credit. He'll believe you. Now, try not to overexcite yourself. When the right time comes, you're going to tell him. Promise?"

"Promise," Christine drawled. "Why couldn't I be born normal?"

Meg laughed. "Then you wouldn't be so damn interesting! Cheer up. I'll go get Raoul to see you."

She let out a defeated sigh as the blonde went out to get her boyfriend. Christine didn't have to wait long. Raoul showed up immediately, his flaxen hair disheveled and dark bags lined under his blue eyes. Meg wasn't kidding. He needed to sleep badly and her guilt rose that she was the cause of it.

"Oh Christine, you're all right! How do you feel? Is there anything you need? Just say the word and I'm at your service!" He kneeled at her side, concern etched all over his features.

Christine had a tiny smile on her lips. He's too good. I don't deserve his kindness or love. Love? Does he love me? Do I love him? God, if my life wasn't already filled with enough drama…

Realizing she hadn't answered him, Christine said. "I'm fine, Raoul. Thank you. But I could use some Tylenol and a glass of water if that's not too much trouble."

"Not at all. I hope Meg told you were at my place?"

"She did."

He grinned. "I'll be right back with milady's order." He was gone for a few minutes with the desired items. Graciously, Christine took the pill from him and swallowed it with a few sips of water. When she was done, Raoul took the glass from her to place it on the nightstand for her. Locking eyes, he took her hand in his, his thumb gently caressing her skin.

Christine's breath caught in her throat from the sweet ministration, but also because there was something in his eyes that he was going to say something. She prayed that this wasn't the "right time" that Meg told her.

"Christine," Raoul spoke, his caresses ceased. "I know this is not the best time, but if you have the strength to, I want to talk about opening night."

Relieved, she exhaled the air she was holding and nodded. "Okay," he said. "What happened to Brolin was a horrible incident but I should come clean about the Phantom."

"What do you mean?"

He sighed. "Before you ever came here, the time I bought the theatre, I was receiving strange notes and my office was vandalized on a daily basis. I heard the rumors beforehand but I never had reason to believe them, despite my family's history. I couldn't believe that a ghost was haunting my theatre and who happens to hold a grudge against me."

"A grudge Raoul?" Christine repeated.

"Yeah. More so now than earlier. Adele had helped me to be on his good side, but that's changed since I met you. I know I should have told you this a long time ago but I was afraid you might think I was nuts or something."

"I don't think you're nuts," she assured him, squeezing his hand. He thought I would think he was nuts? Oh Raoul, if you only knew about me than we probably wouldn't be having this conversation. "Did you say Adele helped you?"

"Sure did. All I had to do was write him a letter, explaining my intentions to the Garnier were pure, which they were, and that he had nothing to fear about me ruining the establishment. Trust me; I thought the whole idea was nuts, yet it worked. I wasn't bothered no more. Then when you came, he was against Cat working and looked what happened! I'm not implying this Phantom had anything to do with her death; logically it couldn't but way things are…" his voice trailed off, lost in the thought.

Glancing at Christine, he cleared his throat. "And then there was my car… After I dropped you off, my car was literally destroyed and there was this message left behind. It was about you. This… this thing thinks you're his. Christine, I'm at a loss and I'm worried. I have reason to believe your voice has something to do with this belief. And I feel terrible. I brought you into this and it's my fault. I am so sorry."

Christine stared, flabbergasted. He thinks that the Phantom's sick fixation on her was his fault? All because of her voice? He didn't even know half of the story. But what also struck her odd was Adele's involvement. She had a sinking feeling about the older woman when Jamie had delivered the rose. And this new information was starting to confirm her early suspicions.

Antoinette Giry was the Phantom's confidante when he was alive; that was known from what Meg told her. Was it possible that Adele was the same to the spirit? Did Meg even know?

Not likely, she thought. But it made sense. If the Phantom was present, then he certainly would look for a descendent of his trusted friend to help him. And that person would be none other than Adele Garrison. Why though?

"Christine?" Raoul interrupted. "I understand if you might be mad at me from withholding this, but I thought I was protecting you. You mean a lot to me; more than anything."

The singer gazed deeply at him. His affection for her was clear and his words were true. Her heart fluttered at the loving look he was giving her as he held her hand up so he could lightly kiss her knuckles.

"Despite everything, Christine," he said. "I am so glad to have met you and have you here. No Phantom could ever keep me away from you."

Tears were beginning to well in her hazel eyes at his heartfelt confession. No words could describe to what Christine felt during this. Such a caring and wonderful man; she did not deserve him. But, she had him now and his promise of protection and near-love fueled the growing tenderness and warmth in her heart. It had to be love.

There was no other explanation. It wasn't a lustful attraction nor was it the heat of the moment from the precarious situation. It was now, at this very second, that Christine realized her feelings for Raoul de Chagny was the sort of love every woman dreams about. He was her knight in glimmering armor in more ways than one. And he cared so much about her to make the serious confession, to pour out his heart and soul. No other man she dated was so opened like he was being that this had to be real. He was brave enough to be honest to her that—

"Raoul there's something I have to tell you," Christine burst; overwhelmed by everything that was occurring. "I should have told you this before but I was too scared and now—"

The door opened to reveal Stacey and Jamie. Christine began shouting curses inside her mind at the interruption.

Raoul moved away from her, grinning at the new arrivals. "Hello ladies." Turning back to Christine, he asked, "What did you wanted to tell me?"

Looking at her friends to Raoul, she forced a smile. "Forget it. It wasn't anything too important."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Her conscience was screaming at her to stop and tell him, but the strength was no longer there. She lost it. "Go and get some sleep. I'm fine Raoul."

He cast one look at her before leaving the room, leaving her with Stacey and Jamie. Not that she wasn't grateful to see her friends, but she was angry at herself for closing the opportunity.

Coward.

xxXXxx

The next day Christine was well enough to return to the apartment. Meg was gone the previous night to make sure there weren't any spooks hanging around, waiting for them. The former was able to leave the bed to walk around Raoul's apartment, but she couldn't bring herself to tell him the whole truth. She was relieved that she could leave; for staying any longer would crush her with the disgusting guilt for not being completely honest. She loved him, she truly did, but would he return her feelings if he were to know about her dreams about Erik?

She was using it as an excuse for the time being and she had no doubt in her mind that Meg would do the favor for her if Raoul were to ask the dancer. And learning from another source would surely hurt him and their relationship. Christine couldn't have that.

"Yoo-hoo! Earth to Christine Dawson!"

Christine shook her head, snapping out of her dark thoughts. Looking at Meg, she sheepishly chuckled. "Sorry. I just spaced out a little."

"No kidding. So… uh, while I was gone did you talk to Raoul yet?"

Christine groaned. "Please Meg. Not now."

"You didn't," she observed. "Damnit Christine, when are you?"

"I'm stuck in an emotional overload, okay?" She collapsed on the couch. "Raoul wants to protect me. I mean so much to him that he wants to know if anything paranormal happens to me. Meg… if only you could have seen his face! I don't deserve him. I'm stupid and pathetic and I don't deserve him."

"For the love of—" Meg loudly clapped her hands, causing Christine to jump out of her skin. "Listen to me and listen carefully, got it?" She nodded.

"You're only stupid and pathetic because you're letting yourself be that. And quit the 'I don't deserve him' drama. Save it for someone who gives a damn. You do deserve him, Christine. You two are made for each other and it took you guys a while to get to where you are now. So I don't want to hear anymore whining. Now do you love the guy or not?"

Startled by her friend's harangue, Christine nodded wordlessly.

"Then tell him. If he was man enough to tell you this, then by God woman you have to be man enough to tell him also. Otherwise, all this putting off will hurt you at the end and in that case you won't deserve him and some other woman will snatch him. And we don't want that to happen. So… will you tell him or do you want to kiss him good-bye?"

"I'll tell him," Christine mumbled. "But it's not easy."

"And who says a good, healthy relationship is? Christine, go with me on this and believe me when I tell you everything will be all right. Think about it and how you're going to approach it. It's going to mean a lot to him when you come forward."

"You're right Meg. I promise I will and I promise I won't whine anymore about the subject."

Meg smirked. "Thank you!"

Christine laughed and got up to go into her room. She was going to need to do plenty of thinking before she talks to Raoul. Her searching eye found the rose she received on top of her dresser in a little vase with water. Next to it was a note in Jamie's hurried scribble, You forgot this. Love, Jamie.

Meg probably didn't know the rose was even here. Christine strode over and picked up the flower. For a moment, she touched the petals, wondering how something so beautiful could be changed to dislike so quickly.

Crushing the delicate rose in her hands, Christine discarded the fallen petals and stem. I'm not his. And I'll never be his.

xxXXxx

"Congratulations Christine!"

"Good job!"

Christine nodded her thanks to a couple passing chorus girls on her way to her dressing room. Once more she had another triumph as Marguerite. People were constantly filling in the seats to get their chance to listen to this new star hailing from New York City. The disaster of Joseph Brolin was forgotten and all seemed to be going well for the singer.

Stepping inside, she was surprisingly greeted by her beaming boyfriend. Armed with a dozen carnations, Raoul kissed her mouth and handed his gift to her. "You sang beautifully tonight! I don't think a single person has left this theatre not weeping."

She rolled her eyes, playfully hitting his arm. "Thank you Raoul."

Kissing his cheek, she smiled and went over to the vanity, setting the flowers down. "I can't believe it. Just a few more shows and it's over. Time has flown by."

"It sure did." He walked over so he was now standing behind her; a grin tugging on his lips. "But it could last longer, if you like."

Grabbing her attention, Christine stared in the mirror at him. "M. de Chagny, what do you mean?"

"What I mean is that you were here temporarily until we had a permanent resident, but I could never find one to replace you that could have done you justice. So… I had pulled some strings and talked to your agent."

"Doris? What about exactly?"

"Christine, would you want to be the Garnier's leading soprano indefinitely?"

Her eyes widened and mouth wide-opened. "Oh my God…"

"I talked to Meg and she enjoyed having you live with her so you can continue staying with her until we see how things between us work…" Raoul let the thought hang in the air for her, his grin never wavering. "How about it?"

"Oh my God…" she repeated. "Yes! YES!"

Letting out a squeal of delight, Christine crushed him in a bear-hug. Laughing, Raoul returned the embrace. "I was hoping you would like it."

"I do! Oh man, I have so much to do! I still have some things in New York I have to bring over and oh my God thank you so much!" she cried ecstatically. Gazing up at him, Christine wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him down to show her appreciation in a long, lazy passionate kiss.

Raoul moaned softly, opening his mouth for their tongues to explore one another, as the kiss deepened. He broke away, his mirth breaking across his countenance. "I guess you really liked the idea."

"You…" Christine giggled, kissing him once more, though this time gently.

"Before I forget, there's more." He winked. Christine's jaw dropped. "More?"

"Our annual Halloween Masquerade is coming up and I figured I would make the announcement of your stay then. And… I was hoping you would join me as my date."

"Let me think." She closed one eye in contemplation as he laughed. "Hmmm… I believe I'm free. Though, you are assuming that I would go with you."

"Did I think wrong?" Raoul teased.

"You do know I have to turn down all of my adoring male devotees, but I'm sure they won't mind for this one night."

"I would hope so," he said solemnly. "Otherwise, I would have to make them pay dearly."

"Let me get dress and maybe I'll let you treat me to some dinner. That is until someone better comes along."

Raoul growled, nipping her nose. "I'll be outside waiting."

She watched him go and quickly threw on her clothes. Christine was in awe that she would be singing here for good. It was a dream come true and in a good way. Nothing will ruin their celebration as she warily scanned the room. So far… no signs of a jealous poltergeist in sight. Perfect…

Christine went out and together, she and Raoul, left hand-in-hand.

xxXXxx

Christine and Raoul stayed out late and by the time Christine was home, she was exhausted. She literally fell asleep once she crawled into bed, her mind seeping into the world of dreams…

"Oh Christine…" he groaned, pulling her petite form closer to him. "Why do you torture me so?"

Her answer was her hand dipping into his shirt, her nails scratching his chest. He let out another tormented hiss, squeezing her tighter.

"I'm sorry you think so, Maestro," she purred. "But I promise I won't anymore."

"Don't say things you don't mean," he growled. "You hurt me so much when you do that. You don't mean to hurt your poor Erik, now do you?" He lowered his mouth to her neck, tentatively snaking his tongue out to taste her salty flesh. "Christine…"

"Never," she gasped, as his teeth started to graze her skin. "P-please!"

"Please what Christine?" he whispered, his hold never loosening. "You're mine. Now and forever. You belong to no one!"

"No one Erik!" she cried. "Only you… I belong to you and no one else, I swear!"

To her anguish, he broke free from the embrace, his eyes molten and burning with desire. His lips twisted upwards in a cruel grin at her trembling body. "You yearn for my touch, yet you're the one who is only hurting yourself, my dear. You say you belong to me, but you flee. If you truly want me, then you must give in. Stop denying the darkness Christine. Stop denying what you know is true. I am your Master and not that boy!" And he turned his back on her.

"Don't go!" she shouted.

"I won't ever leave you, Christine. Never. When you decided, I'll be waiting. Don't keep your poor Erik long for your answer."

Christine jumped out of her thoughts, looking around in her dressing room. Another show was over and she was half-way dressing when her dream from the other night returned. Her body was warm as she tried to ignore the screaming need in her.

You're acting like a wanton creature! She accused herself. And over who? A dead guy who obsessed over your past life. You truly are messed up Christine Dawson.

But it couldn't be her fault. Christine Daae was in love with him, so it stood to reason that she would have these thoughts since she never was with him before. Shaking her head and muttering to herself, Christine finished putting on her shirt.

He wanted an answer and she'll give him an answer. She had a good idea where to find him and she took the necessary precaution and brought a flashlight. Knowing the Phantom or Erik for a while, Christine knew where his hide-out would be.

xxXXxx

"Hey Meg, do you know where Christine is?" Raoul asked as he came back from Christine's dressing room. "She wasn't in her room and I thought you might know."

"Sorry. I don't." Meg replied. Frowning, she tried wracking her brain but couldn't think of where the brunette could possibly be. "If I see her, I'll tell her you were looking for her."

Raoul nodded but that wasn't good enough for him. Why would she disappear without telling anyone where she would be? She should know better…

Raoul turned on his heels, deciding to check the dressing room once more.

xxXXxx

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Christine said to herself, as she entered Christine Daae's dressing room.

The light beam scoured the empty room, dust and cobwebs once more decorating the vacant space. It was so pitiful to see such a beautiful room rot without use all because of a ghost.

Christine explored whatever she saw and discovered the portrait had returned to its proper place behind the vanity. Good. I don't think I could spare another glimpse of it!

She heard a low groan and spun around to face the door. It was still shut and she was alone. Turning around, Christine shone the flashlight to the one spot she never wanted to see again. The large-length mirror…

Her heart began to thump wildly once she saw it was opened, just wide enough for a very thin person to slide in. Taking a large gulp, Christine wandered over to it.

A rotten stench was coming through the crack as Christine fought back a gag. Part of her wanted to turn around and never come back, but she squashed the fear immediately. This could be her only shot to get rid of Erik and she couldn't risk turning into a chickenshit right now.

She set the flashlight on the floor and with all of her might, pushed on the mirror so it would open further for her. Satisfied, she bent down for her light and plunged into the awaiting darkness.

The hideous scent was strong and looking at the man-made tunnel, Christine figured it was mildew. Not very pleasant, she noted, of course but at least it wasn't anything human.

The walls were stone and putting a hand on the clammy surface, she wrenched it away with a squeak. Slimy and disgusting.

She lowered the beam to the floor to see a dirt path and gravel. It wasn't too bad… not like the walls. Looking from side to side, Christine wasn't sure where to go but let her instincts take her wherever.

Christine took the passage to the left; the only guide was her flashlight. She walked down, her eyes scanning the narrow corridors in amazement. She could be, at this moment, be using the very same path the Phantom did and possibly Christine Daae. For some reason, she found the startling fact intriguing.

Moving stealthy, Christine abruptly stopped once the flashlight began to flicker.

"Oh no. No, no, no!" she moaned, as the light disappeared. Annoyed and anxious, she started hitting the flashlight in hopes it was a fluke and the light would reappear.

To her joy, it did and soon she was on her way. Taking several steps, Christine froze as she heard a soft echo of footsteps. And then it vanished. Carefully, she took one step, followed by another echo.

She nervously giggled. "Geez, Christine. It's only you."

She was about to continue until she heard a heavy set of footsteps. It sounded like it was coming everywhere!

Spinning around in her spot, Christine held out the flashlight. "W-who's there?" she called.

When she got no reply, Christine tried a bit louder and forceful. "Is anyone there? Answer me!"

Christine…

"No, no…" she murmured. "Get yourself together. Get yourself together. Get yourself—"

Christine!

Swallowing hard, she did her best not to panic. That voice… she could recognize that voice for as long as she lived.

"I know it's you Erik!" Christine shouted. "Show yourself!"

The light blinked and quickly she smacked it so it was working. Holding it as steady as she could, Christine peered through the darkness and the simple light she had.

The ray moved forward until a black pair of shoes was revealed. She choked back, as she raised the flashlight, exposing more to her naked eyes.

There were ebony pants and a cape, blowing gently. Breathing raggedly, Christine lifted it so she could see the face.

A man. A man was standing no more than ten feet away from her, his entire frame covered by the shade of darkness and a dark fedora tilted to the front, blocking a good portion of his countenance. But Christine didn't need to see what was hiding beneath. Oh no… She had more than enough share from her dreams.

Two piercing dots glared through the night, looking straight through her. Almost into her very soul…

All she had to say to him fled her mind, leaving her to move her lips without sounds.

She caught a tiny lift of his misshapen lips to form a grin, which appeared to be just as sinister as his presence.

"Christine," he whispered his hand moving slightly out for her. "Come to me."

Her mouth opened and she couldn't scream. Her feet wouldn't move. She was stuck staring at this phantom.

The figure floated closely to her, the hand that was covered by a black glove still was out. Very deftly, the thin fingers reached out to tenderly trace her lower jaw. His eyes not leaving hers, a pleased twitch of his lips grew.

"Good girl…" He breathed. "Very good…"

Before Christine could yell out, the flashlight died as a pair of arms grabbed her.

TBC…