Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Gaston Leroux's The Phantom of the Opera, Susan Kay's Phantom, or Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical.

Turn of the Tide: Into the Darkness

Raoul:

The hours after Christine and I retreated from the cellars of the Opera Populaire were a whirlwind of emotions. Her selflessness in the matter was astounding to me – I thought for certain I was to die under the Opera at the hands of that crazed fiend, but Christine's brave actions saved us both. I remember feeling an overwhelming sense of pride toward her and great anticipation of our future together.

It did not immediately trouble me what might happen to Erik. I realized a horde of angry men and armed police were making their way toward his home, and I hoped that with their wrath all the madness of the preceding months would come to an end. I wished it more than anything for Christine's sake. I could no longer bear to see her troubled by this burden.

When I received word that they had succeeded in detaining Erik, I was unsure of what to do. I dare not allow Christine to hear the news for fear of her making an attempt to see him, which I simply could not allow. I would not see her drawn in once more under his spell. And so I kept it secret until the carrying voice of one of my servants betrayed my wishes. Christine entered the parlor and demanded to know why she was not told of his capture. I explained that I thought it to be in her best interests, which she did not seem to agree with.

"I am not a damned child, Raoul!" she exclaimed, her voice speaking of betrayal.

"Christine please," I began soothingly. "I did not want you troubled over the matter. I cannot stand to see you undone by this wicked man. I only wanted to protect you, is all."

"You are not protecting me; if information such as this is kept from me, you are practically holding me hostage and no better than he was," she said flatly. My brow furrowed in disapproval.

"I would never on my life do anything against your best interests, Christine," I retorted. "You've been through so much the last few hours and are exhausted. Please, allow me to escort you to your room." She crossed her arms and looked away coldly. Wrong answer, I presume. I paused for a moment to reorganize my approach. "What will you have me do?"

Christine turned to look at me directly. "Allow me to see him, Raoul. Once, is all I ask."

To my utter dismay I agreed. I suppose I was rather hoping that the impenetrability of the cell and the numerous armed gendarmes would offer me some comfort. They had, until Christine demanded that she see him outside the cell. I very nearly choked on my biscuit.

I ordered my barouche and made my way to the jail, where I found the mysterious Persian once more. The daroga was sitting inside looking beaten and dejected. Upon seeing me, he rose to his feet offered a greeting and a stiff bow. He asked why I had come and I told him as his features grew increasingly whiter. "It is not wise, Monsieur, for either of their sakes" he advised. I nodded, not particularly caring at that moment what was in Erik's best interest.

"None of this has been 'wise,'" I noted. I looked up to the thick stonewall that separated us from where the monster inevitably lay. "What is his condition?"

The Persian began describing what had occurred after I led Christine away. I only nodded at his mention, more concerned now with simply getting my message across to Erik so that I may go home. The Persian and I were led in and found Erik lying motionless. All attempts to gain his attention failed and I demanded to know what had transpired. "We did nothing, Monsieur," they defended. "He has hardly moved to face front."

It suddenly occurred to me why. The Persian had demanded that Erik be taken out, much to the amusement of the gendarmes in the room. I remembered what I had been told about Erik's past. "I know why you do not face the bars, Monsieur," I said, trying to attract his attention. I then delivered my message with an authority that dared not be trifled with, or so I thought. Afterwards I bid the Persian goodnight and returned home, where I informed Christine that all had been arranged. She seemed to rest easier.

All the next day I was cursing myself for allowing this charade to occur. I wanted to call it all off, and paced up and down in my study reasoning why this was a terrible idea. I spent a great deal of time at Christine's side as we ate, walked, and sat together. I wanted to be there as much as possible to support her during this time, as her world had been turned upside down.

Overshadowed by the events, and weighing increasingly on my mind, was the disappearance of my brother, Philippe. I had not seen him since my hasty departure from our box that evening, and I feared that in the chaos he had come to harm. Despite my increasing apprehension over his whereabouts, I could not leave Christine. She was more vulnerable now than ever, susceptible not only to a madman that haunted her, but herself. Her mind had been warped so badly that I was greatly concerned for her thoughts. I allowed myself to believe that Philippe had retired to our residence in the heart of Paris, while I kept Christine safely hidden on our estate outside the city.

That night I once again ordered my barouche and Christine and I set off. It was a dark, damp evening that suited my mood well enough. The rain had passed on, but left the streets wet and the air smelling of dampness. I took Christine's hand in mine and gazed at her as we made our way. When we arrived at the jail I could immediately tell something was horribly awry.

The building was quiet. Lights were on as if someone was there, but the establishment was deserted. Though it was a small jail compared to others in the city, I expected to at least see one person – I had arranged for numerous to be there for this! Where on earth were they? Fearing the monster's escape, I asked Christine to stay close as I drew my pistol. She gasped.

"What are you doing!" she whispered, eyes wide. "What is going on?"

"I do not know, Christine," I said, moving cautiously. "Stay close, please." We found no one in the guardhouse, and no prisoner. I was mortified at the situation and I feared Christine was in extreme danger. I moved immediately to return to the barouche and notify the authorities, but I had not made it halfway before I felt a strong tug on my hand. I turned to find Christine staring into a darkened alley and trying to move toward it. I came to her side and saw as she did – four bodies scattered in the alley, the closest one lying face down with a knife protruding from his back.

"God in Heaven," I whispered, completely taken by the scene before me. To my surprise, Christine was moving into the alley before I could drag her back. I ran after her and as I took her wrist she wheeled around on me, grasping a pocket watch covered in blood. I looked at her and shook my head in confusion. "Christine, I don't understand…"

"It's his!" Christine exclaimed. My stomach turned to lead. "He must be injured Raoul, this was not lying near anyone, so where did the blood come from?" she demanded, angry tears beginning to show themselves. "You shall hate me for this, but we must find him." I looked at her in horror, but knew she was not to be persuaded otherwise.

"Christine I could never hate you," I began, cupping her cheek with my right hand. "But we must return home, and I will organize men from there." She lifted her eyes to mine and raised the watch up.

"Erik does not have that time, don't you see?" she pleaded. Too bad for Erik, I insisted to myself. As far as I was concerned the wretch could drag himself to the end of the earth and be done with it, but the look in Christine's eyes said otherwise. I turned away from the horrific scene and gritted my teeth before turning back to her.

"Very well. But you must return and request men to meet me at the Rue Scribe entrance of the Opera," I declared. Christine began to protest, but I raised a hand to my mouth, pleading her not to say another word. "Please Christine. I will find him, but I cannot have you in danger. God help us both if this is another illusion of his…"

"It is no illusion," she whispered, looking once more at the watch. Christine then turned her eyes up to mine. "You will not harm him."

I stared down at her, knowing what she asked of me. "You have my word, Christine. No harm will come to him by my hand." Assuming, of course, that he did not intend to end my life. I saw Christine to my barouche, checked it thoroughly for potential intruders and instructed the driver to make haste and stop for no one. My journey into the darkness began. The events that would transpire would inevitably be a turning of the tide.

Author's Notes:

My goal with Raoul is to portray him in a positive light. While this may be lacking some in this chapter, the upcoming accounts of the Vicomte hopefully will lend a more honorable, sophisticated development of the character. The last thing I want is to encourage the age-old "FOP!" criticisms. I truly feel there is far more to the character than money and fine things. Stay tuned for what Raoul discovers.

Stellalorelai – such wonderful comments! Thank you, I enjoy writing Erik and hope I do him justice.

And to those who reviewed - I cannot thank you guys enough! The reviews are lovely and keep me pushing forward with this fic. All the compliments mean a great deal to me! I would love to hear any comments you may have, positive or negative. Thank you again!