You know what's weird? The more I watch Phantom of the Opera, the less I hate Raoul. I mean, I still love Erik, but I don't hate Raoul anymore. I think he's just too much of a lovesick puppy. But other than that, I have nothing against him anymore. Just thought that was interesting, no point in killing me :cowering from enraged phans:ahhh! Just read the story and don't kill me! Oh yeah, and review too.lol

once again thanks to all my reviewers, i love you guys!

Chapter 7: An Unpleasant Reunion

Erik stared icily as Raoul stood from his position on Erik's bench and produced a pistol from behind his back. Erik gritted his teeth, forcing himself to remain silent as Raoul pointed his pistol toward a point about fifty feet away from Erik's position, obviously under the impression that Erik was cowering in that very spot. Erik slowly crouched in the water, moving carefully to avoid making the water ripple or splash as he reached his hands underneath the surface. His fingers touched the cold, wet stone underneath the water, and he felt around for a reasonably large rock, or something he could throw.

His fingers closed around a rugged-edged stone just as Raoul fired his pistol toward the wall. He saw Raoul squinting as pieces of rock and stone fell from the wall of the lair, causing large ripples to course through the lake as they landed in the water. Erik took this as his opportunity to move, and crept along the wall and slid through the shadows until he was standing directly behind where Raoul had been sitting moments before, hidden only by the shadow cast by the organ.

Fighting back the urge to sigh in relief, he watched as Raoul sloshed through the water, inspecting around the place where he had shot, hoping to find Erik's body or some sign that he had been harmed. Finding nothing, he turned around quickly, pressing his back to the wall. Erik saw the fright in Raoul's eyes as he raised his pistol to the level of his eyes, slowly turning it so that it pointed towards the corner of his lair, once again squinting in the darkness, hoping it would improve his sight.

Erik saw the pistol trembling in the boy's hand as he lowered it to his side in defeat, closing his eyes as he started speaking with a hoarse and cracked voice. "Where is she, demon?"

Erik remained silent. Raoul opened his eyes and furrowed his brow as a bolt of anger shot through his body, causing him to let out a growl of frustration. "Answer me, you monster! I know she has to be with you here, somewhere, that's why I hunted you down! Now where is she?" His face was red with anger as he stumbled towards the middle of the lair, his hot anger melting what was left of his fear. He gripped his pistol with iron force, his hand growing numb under the pressure of his grip.

There was still silence in the room, and it was growing more stifling by the second. Sighing, Erik stuffed his lasso underneath his cloak as he strode from his hiding place in the shadows, revealing himself to the dim candlelight of his lair. It took a few seconds for Raoul to see him, but when he did he let out a weak cry and stumbled backwards, covering his face with his unoccupied hand. Erik rolled his eyes, having totally forgotten he had not replaced his mask after Christine removed it.

Feeling completely unthreatened by Raoul's weak attempts to murder him, he turned from Raoul and glided over to where Christine had dropped his mask beside their position on the piano bench. He felt the familiar tingle flow through his body as he reached to retrieve the mask, forcing the sensation out as he slowly applied it to his face. He once again turned to Raoul, smirking as he strode towards the cowering idiot crouched against the portcullis. Raoul lowered his hands as Erik continued walking towards him, and he forced himself to stand, leaning against the portcullis for support. Something was wrong with him. He could hardly stand and his insides felt like they were on fire.

But he had to get Christine before he worried about his own problems. He raised the pistol to its previous position, aiming it directly at Erik's heart. Erik didn't stop walking. He gripped the cold stone tighter underneath his cloak, unable to fight the growing smirk forcing its way onto his face. He stopped walking when he was two feet in front of Raoul, glaring at him with pure hatred in his green eyes. Raoul remained silent, the pain in his stomach and the utter fear of this demon forcing him into silence. Erik looked him up and down, frowning as his eyes came to rest on the wedding ring on Raoul's left hand, the one not gripping the pistol.

He reached out and grabbed Raoul's hand with an icy grip, turning it to where the stone glimmered in the dim light. Raoul didn't object, too weak to even attempt to protest. He dropped the hand roughly as he once again turned from the boy.

"You aren't even married to her yet, or have you not noticed she hasn't been with you for the past three weeks?" he spat, rounding once again on him. Raoul felt a smirk come to his own face, as he finally opened his mouth to speak. "But I will be, as soon as you're dead and she's released." He fumbled with the pistol until his hand rested on the trigger, and Erik tossed the rock towards the wall just as Raoul fired the pistol directly towards Erik. Raoul gave a cry of surprise as he stumbled backwards, the shot ricocheting off the ceiling. The rock Erik had tossed had caused the portcullis to rise, and Raoul's shot had been thrown off because he had been leaning against the portcullis and had therefore been forced backwards by the rising gate.

He gazed at his gun in disbelief, then shifted his gaze towards Erik as he felt hatred seep through his veins, throwing the gun into the lake. " You bastard! That was my last bullet!" He looked ready to lunge at Erik, and Erik merely grinned as he retrieved the Punjab from under his cloak. If it's a fight the boy wants, I'm not entirely in the mood, so I'll make it quick. He fingered the rope in his hands, waiting patiently for Raoul to make his move. As much as he wished to die at that point, he would never die in the hands of such a weak fop, and would be more than delighted to finish him off.

Erik felt a wave of disappointment as Raoul keeled over in pain, and emptied the contents of his stomach into his lake. Erik turned from him in disgust, shaking his head in something close to pity. "You're contaminating my lake, you fool." He turned back towards Raoul, and stood patiently waiting for the boy to finish retching. Finally, Raoul looked weakly at Erik, a slip of hatred still visible in his clouded eyes. "Please forgive me," he croaked with sarcasm. "I will clean out your sewer as soon as I possibly can."

Erik simply smirked before walking away towards his organ. "See that you do," he said with a light voice, coated with fake sincerity. All he had to do now was wait. The boy obviously had hypothermia, and he would collapse from fatigue soon enough. The only problem was what he would do with him when he did. That would be dealt with later, he decided.

He began to play the harsh tunes of his beloved opera, Don Juan, and watched in amusement as Raoul covered his ears in a weak attempt to block out the sound. He only played for ten minutes before he noticed that the boy had completely collapsed, and Erik swooped down from his bench and approached the crumpled heap, bending down on one knee to survey the best way to move him. Finally, he grimaced in disgust as he lifted the unconscious boy and flung him onto his back, and was surprised that he was surprisingly light, as if he hadn't eaten healthily in a while.

Such a fool, Erik couldn't help but think as he carried the boy up to his bench and laid him down. He first flung an old musty comforter from his bedroom over Raoul before tying his lasso around his middle, then wrapping it around his legs. He did not want to risk Raoul waking up and trying to attack him, even though he had been the one who saved him. Once again flinging him across his back, he stumbled awkwardly toward the hidden entrance that Raoul had entered through, and walked for five minutes before turning sharply into a completely obscured passageway that Raoul had hopefully missed entirely. He walked down the narrow passageway, wishing that the walk would not take as long as it normally did. Finally, he came to his underground stables, and untied Cesar who greeted him with a warm whiney and a nudge of his wet nose.

Erik petted the white horse fondly before untying him from his restraints and pulling him from his stall. He slipped the horse some oats from the bin in the corner of the stables, then started to patiently prepare Cesar for the journey. He gently placed a saddle on the horses' sleek back, then roughly laid Raoul across it. He placed his foot in the stirrups, boosting himself onto the horse's back. He grasped the reins and gently led the horse down the passage, turning down another narrow hallway until they came to the Rue Scribe entrance. He coaxed the horse out onto the street, and taking a deep breath of air, began riding toward the Rue de Rivoli.

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Nadir continued to gaze upon Christine, gentle understanding etched into his jade eyes. She was staring at the carpet intently, obviously contemplating what had been said moments before. Did she really love him? She had been asking herself the same question over and over for the past five minutes, not sure if she wanted it to be true or not. She had already reached the conclusion that she did not love Raoul, and that was firmly set in her mind. She loved him as a friend, of course, but never as a lover.

But the fact that she loved Erik, her Angel, her guardian, was too much for her to accept. He had always been there for her since childhood. He had always protected her, but she had never thought that she would feel the way she was feeling, but as she thought back on their embrace, she found herself wishing to be back in that position, laying in his arms for eternity. But it was too late now, he had released her and forced her away because he thought she was lying to him. And she had not been lying. She had never been more serious in her life. But now, he was gone forever.

She forced a smile as she looked towards the Persian, and struggled to find something to say. Finding nothing, she looked back down at her hands and found herself extremely interested in getting rid of her hangnail. Nadir simply stood gracefully and took her hand gently, raising her up from her position on the couch. "You have had a very long day, and a lot to think about, so I think it's okay for you to rest. Besides, you'll be seeing Erik again soon enough."

With this Christine looked at him in surprise, and stopped walking as she searched Nadir's eyes for signs of what he was talking about. Nadir simply gave a light laugh and continued to lead her into a room she guessed to be his wife's, and she once again stopped to object about her intruding, completely forgetting Nadir's comment about her seeing Erik again soon. "You have been so terribly graceful to me, but you cannot ask me to sleep in your wife's bedroom. I don't think she would appreciate coming home to a girl she doesn't know sleeping in her bed."

Nadir gave her a genuine smile, urging her to come into the bedroom. "My wife will not be returning tonight, she is with our child at a party in Marseille that lasts until Tuesday, so you may stay however long you wish." Christine graciously thanked the man for all his trouble, before collapsing on the bed and rubbing her tired eyes.

Nadir gracefully slipped from the room after instructing her on where the nightgowns and chemises were located in his wife's bureau, as he said she would be more than willing to allow her to borrow them.

Christine closed the door quietly before beginning to peel off the soaking wedding dress, letting it pool around her feet. She stepped away from the dress as she shivered in the damp room. She wanted nothing more at that instant than to have Erik embracing her in his arms, taking away all the chilliness in the room.

She slipped a simple white nightgown over her head as she spent the next five minutes daydreaming, reliving their one intimate moment they had shared when she had not been completely hypnotized. Remembering the rose she had put behind her ear, she reached up and removed it, setting it lovingly on the oak night stand. She slipped underneath the warm cotton sheets, topped with a beautiful puce silk comforter. She couldn't help but feeling like a rich Egyptian queen as she slipped comfortably into the oblivion of a dreamless sleep.

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Nadir returned to his study, hoping to finish up some business papers that had to be completed by Thursday. He knew it was futile, since Erik would be at his doorstep in probably about twenty minutes, as he always came to Nadir when he was stressed or upset. He decided he would not alert Erik to the fact that Christine was staying in his home, but he would let him find out himself. Because as much of a genius that Erik was, he could be rather slow at realizing the obvious. He had cleared away all of her tea-things, and hoped that Christine would not come out of her room when Erik came knocking.

He returned to his papers, and became completely immersed in the mess of numbers and claims that he didn't hear Erik knocking until he started threatening to tear the door down. Sighing, he stood from his chair and went to unlock the door before Erik tore it from its hinges. He opened the door slowly to find a red-faced Erik standing on his door step carrying an unconscious man tied up with the Punjab lasso. He recognized the boy as the famous Vicomte, otherwise known as Christine's fiancé, and he found himself speechless as he looked from Erik to the Vicomte, back and forth, while Erik grew more and more impatient. Finally Erik's gruff voice cut through his mind. "Daroga! Are you just going to stand there or let me in? If you haven't noticed, its about twenty degrees out here."

Nadir lazily stepped back from the door, allowing Erik to come into his living room and ungraciously throw the boy upon the sofa. "Well, aren't we going to have a party," Nadir said absently, knowing Christine would be out in a second to find out what all the fuss was about. Erik looked at him with a confused look, but quickly dismissed it as Nadir being his usual perplexing self.

Erik gestured with his arm towards the restrained boy on the couch, looking at him as if he were an unwanted stray dog that had wandered in uninvited. "Where can I keep him?" he asked bitterly, wishing nothing more for the Daroga to suggest that he have to sleep out on the landing. Nadir looked at him with an uninterested stare before turning to return to his papers. " I think I deserve to know why you have dragged this man into my house, unconscious and tied, before I allow him room to sleep. I am also curious as to why you have not killed him when he is quite obviously your enemy." Nadir turned to look at him, clearly waiting for an explanation.

Erik looked ready to give a very negative retort, but simply sunk into the plush overstuffed chair, closing his eyes as he finally allowed himself to relax. He knew Nadir would be patient with him, and he wholly planned on taking his time. Finally, he was completely relaxed and ready to tell his story. He repositioned himself in the chair, trying to find a comforting spot. Finally, he looked at Nadir for a moment before beginning.

"Christine left me. Well, I let her go, to be with the Vicomte, as much of a fool he is. After she left, I . . . got upset. After playing my organ for a long while, I went into my room and . . . sat on the floor. But then I heard someone splashing about, and instantly I got the Punjab and slid into the shadows. As soon as the bumbling fool came into the light, I saw that it was . . . him. I wanted to kill him immediately, but he looked pretty beat up and I wanted to hear his story first. But he was impatient, and would only demand to see Christine. And, of course I no longer had her. After a small..disagreement..the boy completely collapsed. I'm guessing he has hypothermia, and you're the only person I know who has the cure, as there was no way I was going to ride all the way to the doctor."

He finished his story before once again gazing at Nadir. He simply nodded, before speaking. "You did not answer my question Erik. Not that I am supportive of your murderous ways, why did you not kill him? He is your enemy, is he not?"

Erik looked away from him, staring with pure hatred at the restrained form of the fallen Vicomte de Chagny. He chewed the inside of his lip absently, before responding. "Christine loves him. And I can't take away the one she loves, no matter how much I hate him."

Nadir already knew this, and simply nodded in agreement once more before rising to tend to the boy. He began to untie his restraints, noticing the blue bruises it had already left behind. He laid the rope in a heap on the floor beside the couch, beginning to remove the dirt-encrusted shirt. Erik turned and swept from the room into the kitchen, suddenly craving some strong tea.

As he began to rummage through the cabinets, struggling to remember where the Daroga kept his tea and cream, he noticed the teacups already set out on a tray, along with some uneaten pastries. He would have dismissed it as the fact that the Daroga had simply been having tea, but he noticed that there were two cups set out, one cup nearly untouched and still full of tea, and his mind flew back to the Daroga's previous comment.

"Well, aren't we going to have a party"

At the time he didn't have a clue what he could have meant, for it was only him and the Daroga, along with an unconscious man. But suddenly the realization struck him like a slap on the face as he dropped the package of creamer he had been holding on the counter, rushing from the room as fast as his legs would carry him. Christine was there. The thought rushed through his mind over and over as he ran towards the Persian, gripping him by the front of his silk robes. The Persian had just finished dressing the Vicomte in some of his own cotton robes, and was just preparing to enter the kitchen to fix him some soup for when he awoke.

He was rather unsurprised when he came face to face with Erik, as he thought it was about time that he figured it out. He waited patiently for Erik to speak, pretending to not acknowledge Erik's hands gripping the front of his shirt.

"Where is she?" he hissed through clenched teeth, never once taking his eyes from Nadir's own jade gaze. Finally, Nadir responded with a completely composed tone. "I will not tell you, until you first release me, and secondly promise to not do the girl any harm, as you are the one who forced her out of your home with nowhere for her to go." Erik frowned as he released the Persian and stepped backwards, forcing himself to remain calm. "I promise I will not lay a hand on her, now tell me where she is."

Nadir gestured towards his wife's bedroom, and Erik lunged for the door before Nadir could even tell him to open the door quietly. Erik launched open the door unceremoniously, pouncing into the room as if he would die unless he got into the bedroom. He stopped in his tracks as he saw Christine sleeping peacefully in the huge elegant bed, looking so much like a beautiful princess that he felt his knees weaken as he approached the side of her bed slowly. He kneeled down beside it as he watched her sleep with sudden adoration and tenderness pouring from his eyes.

He had never seen her look so content, so peaceful as she slept, but now she looked like an innocent child, simply dozed off in the middle of the day. He found himself reaching for her hand, but withdrew it quickly as she started muttering in her sleep, turning her body so that she faced him with her closed eyes. He reached out his hand and slid it down her elegant jaw line, tracing his finger down her neck and twisting it within the soft curls of her hair. He began to sing softly as he continued to caress her, reminded immensely of when Christine had been a child and he had sung her to sleep.

He sung every lullaby he could remember, and finally withdrew his hand as he finished the last verse of his final song. He stood to leave the room, feeling more content than he had been on arriving. He turned to leave just as he saw Christine's eyes flutter open, and he instantly returned to his previous position, crouched beside the bed staring into her eyes. She raised herself into a sitting position, squinting her eyes in the darkness at the man sitting beside her bed as she allowed her eyes to adjust. Finally, she gave a small gasp as her eyes settled on the white mask, unwilling to believe that her Angel had truly returned.

"Erik," she whispered to the darkness, feeling the tingling sensation take control of her once more. Why had he returned? How had he discovered she was staying there instead of at Raoul's estate? Had Nadir somehow informed him? In any case, she could not have been more enthralled to see Erik there, but she was not certain he felt the same. He might have only come to talk to Nadir, and found her sleeping in his wife's bed. It would certainly look questionable, she would not deny that. But regardless of his reasons, she silently thanked the heavens for bringing him back to her.

The silence endured as the two continued to look into each other's eyes, their emotions spilling into each other with a single glance. Finally, when Christine thought she could no longer bear the silence, Erik's voice cut through it like a smooth knife. "Christine, please forgive me," he choked out, not sure whether he wanted to cry or scream. This girl, this woman, had such power over him, she had his whole emotions on a single string.

He sighed as he once again felt her arms envelop him, and he buried his head in her shoulder, inhaling her familiar scent of fresh lavender as he wrapped his own arms around her thin frame. She was crying into his shoulder, muttering small phrases that Erik couldn't understand. He couldn't stop the small smile that crept onto his face. She was in his arms, not the Vicomte's. She had come to him for comfort, not her foolish fiancé. Finally, she drew back enough so that she could look into his eyes, her own watery gaze meeting his intense green eyes. She had never felt as weightless as she did at that moment, Erik's warmth surrounding every bit of her.

Her heart was beating rapidly and she felt a light flutter in her stomach as she gently brushed her lips against Erik's, closing her eyes as she felt his warm breath against her skin. His breathing was labored, and she put her hand against his chest to feel the rapid beating that was identical to her own. She opened her eyes to find that he had closed his own, savoring the feel of her smooth hand against his chest.

He whispered her name throatily as he grasped her hand in his, and slowly opened his eyes to gaze upon his angel. She was staring at him lovingly, and she reached out her other hand to stroke the side of his face, and once again removed his mask. He made a sound of protest, but was instantly silenced by Christine's lips pressed to his own with an intense heated passion that Erik returned with identical force. A warm sensation coursed through Erik's body as he felt as if he were melting into Christine's embrace. Christine moaned into his mouth as he gently pressed his tongue through her slightly parted lips, and she grasped the front of his shirt as she gently tugged him closer to her. She leaned back on the bed until her head rested on the pillow, dragging Erik on top of her as she did so.

He came without reluctance, propping himself up by placing both hands beside her body so as not to crush her with his weight. He finally broke the kiss, both breathing heavily as he buried his head in her shoulder once more. She fumbled with the tie on his cloak, her hands trembling as she struggled to remove it. She had never wanted anyone as much as she wanted Erik at that moment. She finally untied the cloak, and threw it beside the bed as she began to work on his vest. She had just undone the last button when he reached out his hand to stop her, placing his hand over her own, flattening it against his chest.

"You're not well Christine. You need to get all the sleep you can get, because you'll be returning to the Chagny estate tomorrow morning." His voice trembled as he forced himself up from the bed, the warmth of Christine's body immediately evaporating from his own body. He turned away from her as he bent to retrieve his cloak, avoiding her questioning gaze. "What? I don't want to return to him. I- I don't love Raoul, Erik."

Oh God, he had wanted to hear her say those words ever since Raoul had become patron at the Opera Populaire. But he knew she didn't mean it, and he once again applied his mask of nonchalance as he turned to her once more. "You don't know what you're saying. He is your fiancé, and you will return to his estate tomorrow to begin a new life. A life with him promises you happiness and all the worldly treasures you could ever wish for."

He picked up his white mask from the floor, and pressed it to his face as he glided to the door to leave. "Wait!" Christine's pleading voice stopped him in his tracks as he gave into temptation, once again turning to gaze upon her beautiful form. "I do not wish to live a life without the one I truly love, even if I will have all the treasures and wealth in the world." He tried to force a convincing smile as he looked into her pleading eyes, begging him to stay. "Well, then it's a good thing you'll be living with Raoul then, isn't it?" There was a hint of anger coating his voice, and he turned his eyes from her body, and they came to rest on the night stand beside her bed. His eyes lingered on the rose laying on its oak surface, the black ribbon gleaming in the light of the candle sitting beside it.

Christine smiled as she followed his gaze to the rose, and reached out to hold the rose, tenderly caressing its silky petals. "I will keep it forever, even after the last petal falls off and the ribbon becomes old and worn. I saved it because I knew it would be the only physical way of remembering my angel, besides my own memories of course," She was avoiding his gaze, staring intently at the beautiful flower. Erik forced down the tears that threatened to rise, and swept from the room in one fleeting motion. "I am not your angel anymore, Christine."

His last words hung in the air, echoing in Christine's head as she pleaded with herself not to cry, she had to stay strong. She would not let Erik see her weak. She gently got up from the bed after replacing the rose on the night stand, shivering once again in the cold of the room. She searched in the bureau and found a plain white cotton robe, and tying it around her, she opened the door and strode from the room. She walked along the hallway to the living room, planning on seeing Nadir and Erik, sitting in separate chairs as they sat in silence. But instead, she was greeted with the sight of Raoul, looking like a homeless drunk with his unshaven face and straggly hair, drinking hot tea on the couch while Nadir placed a wet rag to his forehead. Erik was nowhere to be seen, and she gave a gasp as she laid eyes on her fiancé.

"Raoul-.." the words caught in her throat as she ran to his side, and he dropped the tea ungracefully on the saucer as he threw his arms around her, squeezing her as close to him as she could get. Nadir looked upon the two, and swept from the room to give the two some privacy. As much as Christine pitied him in his condition, she could not bring herself to embrace him, and merely pulled back as she studied his filthy form. "What happened to you?" she questioned, sounding more like a concerned mother than a fiancé.

He looked at her with all the love and adoration of an unrequited lover, and she felt herself sickened by his gaze instead of flattered. "I was looking for you, in that monster's lair. I searched for three weeks, I couldn't find him, Christine! I looked and looked, and then, one day, I heard him playing his organ, and it led me right to him! But you weren't there, so I was stuck with that monster. But I was sick, and I collapsed before I could kill him. I'm just glad you're safe."

She looked at him with pity for the poor boy, before embracing him with trembling arms. "Oh Raoul," He wrapped his arms around her body, once again pressing her painfully against him. She was tempted to pull away, but forced herself to give him comfort for his sake. Suddenly his eyes grew wide and his breath caught in his throat, and she pulled away to follow his gaze to the door of the kitchen, where Erik was staring at them with a steely jealousy Christine had seen all too often.

She pulled away from Raoul as she ran to his side, but he simply looked away from her and went to the door to pull it open. He turned to her once more, whispering one final statement before closing the door behind him. "I hope you two will be happy together, if a life with him is truly what you want." She wanted nothing more than to run after him and bury herself in his arms, and plead with him to let her live with him. But Raoul embraced her from behind before she could even touch the doorknob. He pulled her towards the couch, forcing her to sit beside him. She attempted to pull away, but he was holding her with an iron grip.

"Forget that monster," he whispered tenderly, but it only angered Christine and she looked away from his gaze. "He is not a monster Raoul, do not speak ill of him when it is he who saved you and brought you here." Raoul looked stunned that she had protected Erik, and did not object when she forced herself out of his arms. She rose and went to the window, looking out on the quiet Paris street. She gave a silent prayer wishing for Erik to be happy, before turning to go to Raoul, knowing that this would be the life she would have to live, whether she loved him or not. She let Raoul embrace her, and she fell asleep uncomfortably in his arms, with haunting dreams of Erik never far from her mind.

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Ugh, Raoul is such a loser. Anyways, Review please! and don't worry! As I've said before, it will be a EC phic, so don't fret! Just be patient! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!