A/N: Hey everyone! This is a one shot fic from Raoul's POV, that takes place directly after the events of Don Juan and the fire. I personally love Raoul and I tire of seeing fics that bash him, I really want people to see the real Raoul de Chagny, so here I go. I hope that you like it, and please R and R !
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rain thundered outside my guest room window as I sat upon an armchair next to the bed that my beloved Christine had just fallen asleep in, her hand still resting gently in mine, as though even in sleep she refused to let go of me. I only hoped that the pouring rain would help quench the blazing fire that had consumed the Opera Populaire earlier that evening. I shivered slightly, even though it was warm inside, as the chilling and horrifying events of the evening flooded my memory. Christine falling through the trapdoor with the Phantom, myself being submerged into the ice cold lake in the opera cellars, the taught noose around my neck, taking my breath away. But the thing that haunted me most was the broken look on Christine's face, and the tears that had fallen down her ivory face, as the Phantom had presented her with her choice. The choice to either stay with him forever, or my death.
I couldn't believe it when those words had come out of his mouth. I had been gladly willing to give my life up for Christine to have freedom, for my life meant nothing without her. And there were simply no words to express how glad and lucky I was to have her here with me now. I traced the tracks of her tears on her pale face, as I felt a tear fall from my own eye, at the sight of seeing how many tears she had cried that evening. Tears that she had cried for me, for us, and for the Phantom. I doubted that she had cried any for herself, she was far too selfless to have thought about such a thing.
I had always hated to see Christine cry, ever since we were children. And I had seen her cry more tears than anyone ever should have to cry, for she had been through far too much for her sixteen years. I will never forget the day that Gustav Daae died. I had never seen my friend and playmate so sad, as the brokenhearted tears had fallen from her seven year old eyes. I tried so hard to make her feel better, as I hugged her to me that day. I myself had fought hard to keep the tears from my own eyes, for Monsieur Daae had been, not only my violin teacher, but he had been like another father to me. Christine and I had sat there for hours, on the shore of the sea, my arm about her shaking shoulders, as I realized that the best thing I could do was to simply be there for her, for as she said, I was the only thing that she had left, for her father and I had been her whole world.
I squeezed Christine's small hand in mine as I continued my musings about those years. She smiled slightly in her sleep, as though she knew it was me there. I remembered the fateful day that we had to part, the day that Madame Giry came to retrieve her and take her to the opera house as her father had instructed. She ran to me, those diamond like tears in her eyes once again, her dark curls flowing behind her. And this time, as we said goodbye, for God knew how many years, I could not keep myself from crying. And I swore, right then, as my boyish face attempted to smile at my friend as she waved from the carriage window, that I would find my friend again.
I smiled slightly at that thought, for here she was, asleep right before my eyes, looking every bit like an angel. I stroked her hair, trying to soothe her sleep, and to fight away any nightmares that could be plauging her dreams. But, I realized, we had just escaped the real nightmare. The nightmare of the Phantom of the Opera. Little had I known what I was stepping into when I entered that opera house, ecstatic beyond words to have found what I was sure was the love of my life. But I had risen to the challenge, willing to do anything to bring Christine that happiness that she so deserved.
I leaned back in the chair, holding Christine's hand to my cheek, as I hummed the tune to the song that we had sung to each other on the rooftop, the night that we professed our love for each other. I had noticed that night, that Christine's tears had not changed over the years, and their effect on me had only worsened. And I had been so glad that night, that my words and my embrace had been able to make her feel better. And after that first kiss, I knew that Christine felt the same way that I did. My childhood friend had become my true love.
But even after that night, I still had no idea how many more tears Christine was going to be forced to shed, for I had no idea what was in store. Not until the night of the masquerade had I understood the situation. I slept outside Christine's dormitory that night, trying to protect her from any harm. But I had awoken only to find to my horror, that Christine was gone. I had raced to the cemetary, to come face to face with the Phantom, whom I realized now, was just as much of a man as I was. A man that in his own twisted way, loved Christine too. But the tears that she had shed after that event, when the realization that the Phantom, Erik, was not the spirit of her father, were the worst yet. And the tears shed before the performance of Don Juan had nearly broken my heart in two, for those tears had been shed for fear of betraying her former teacher, but also for fear that we would be seperated again, and she couldn't seem to bear that, and neither could I.
It had been all of these tears that drove me down to that lair tonight. In this final attempt to save Christine from the darkness. But if it hadn't been for Christine, I knew, I would not be alive. And as hard as it was to believe, I was thankful to the Phantom, for he had let us go, had shown compassion that he had never been shown, until Christine showed it to him. And I understood how the man felt on one level, for I could not imagine living without Christine. And as I sat there, I felt like the luckiest man in the world, for this beautiful and kind angel had chosen to love me. After a few more minutes of thinking, I noticed Christine was stirrring, and her big brown eyes came open.
"Raoul love, you're still awake?" she asked in a sweet and soft whisper.
"Yes, Little Lotte, I am. I wanted to make sure that you were alright before I considered going to sleep." I said, smiling at her.
Her eyes traveled over the bandages on both my arm and my neck, and her eyes filled with tears. "Raoul, you have no idea how happy I am that you are here, I was terrified to lose you. I can't live without you. Please hold me."
I complied with her request and sat on the bed, next to her and pulled her to me, my arms wrapped tightly around her, wiping her tears gently away. I didn't want her to cry for me. "I would have gladly given my life for you to be free, my love." I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
She turned to look at me, and I couldn't stop the tears from falling. She smiled at me, and kissed them away. I held her tighter to me, planting kisses in her hair. She smiled and appeared to be falling asleep again. But then the sweetest words in the world came out of her mouth.
"I love you Raoul, my shelter and my light." she said, as she turned around once again, leaning her head against my chest.
My heart fluttered. "I love you too, Christine, so very much." I said, and I saw that there were no longer tears in her eyes, but a look of ultimate happiness in those chocolate orbs.
"You know," she said sleepily, "I believe that father is smiling down on us tonight, and Erik too, for letting us go. Papa loved you so Raoul, and I know that he will be smiling down on us in a few weeks, when we get married." she said with a dazzling smile at the thought of a wedding. "Thankyou for rescuing me Raoul, for rescuing me from the darkness and the sadness that has haunted me ever since my papa died."
In answer to that statement, I claimed her lips in a gentle kiss, and she returned it, and I could feel the intimacy and depth of our love. Then she fell asleep in my arms after a few minutes, and I could feel my own eyes drooping. I knew that Madame Giry, who was downstairs, would reprimand me for staying up so late after such a trauma, but at this moment, I could not be happier. Here I was with my beloved in my arms, never to be parted again. We would marry, and have children, and I hoped that someday when she was ready, Christine would return to singing. We would make a blissful life togther, and if I could help it, Christine would never hurt anymore. But, I realized, if any pain were to ever enter our lives again, we would be there for each other, through it all, and we would let daylight dry our tears.
