RAOUL

Truthfully, he hadn't thought of Daniel Cariou in years. He had always been a snot-nosed brat trying to insert himself into Raoul and Christine's games. They usually did a good job of avoiding him, but if they did let him play, he would often remark at how stupid pirates or Vikings were and how the two of them should act more grown-up. Finally, after several instances of Daniel absolutely ruining everything, Christine snapped at him.

"If you don't like what we're doing, no one asked you here or wants you here anyway!"

"Fine," he stomped away. "I'm only playing with you because my mother told me to because his stupid father is a comte!"

After that, they seldom interacted with him. Still, Raoul had to have faith that Cariou had grown up and was a competent doctor. Poor Clémentine's arm depended on it.

His daughter's sobbing had lessened a bit, but when Cariou started examining her arm, she started up her wailing again. The sound was utterly heart-wrenching and devastating to Raoul, who could do nothing more than grit his teeth and hold onto her uninjured arm.

"Doctor Cariou, I don't want it to be broken because then Miss Christine can't teach me the piano!" she choked out.

Léna tried to be helpful. "You can play the piano with one hand!"

But this only served to make Clémentine cry even harder.

"I believe it is broken," Cariou said, patting her on the head. "But a clean break, at least. But, if you follow my advice, I think you shall play the piano sooner than you know it. But-" he directed this next statement to Raoul. "I'll need to set it so it heals properly. I'll need your help holding her down. And I'll give her some laudanum first, for the pain."

"Oh god,' Raoul swallowed. "Léna, I don't think you should watch this. Erik, can you take her outside for a moment?"

With a solemn nod, Erik agreed. But Clémentine did not.

"Monsieur Erik, please don't leave! I need you and Léna to stay!" Clémentine hopelessly wiped away her streaming tears. "I don't want to hurt anymore."

"In all honesty, she seems like a fighter, despite her small size," Cariou mused, retrieving a tin of laudanum from his bag. "I might need you and Lunel to both hold her down."

"Papa, I don't want him to hurt my arm!" Clémentine cried. "Please don't let him."

Raoul felt his heart crumble into dust. "It's going to hurt for a little bit, but it's only so it will feel better later. He's going to give you some medicine so it doesn't hurt as much.

She reluctantly swallowed the laudanum, gingerly settling into Raoul's lap. Léna, as directed, sat next to her on the sofa, but looked away. Erik, wiping away tears, took firm hold of her ankles. Raoul wrapped both arms around his daughter's torso.

"What's going to happen, Papa?" she sniffled.

He murmured in her ear. "Papa loves you, Papa loves you so much," he moved his forearm closer to her mouth. "Here's my arm, you can bite down if you want, and any pain you feel, you can transfer to me, okay?."

"Are you ready, Monsieur le Vicomte?" asked Cariou, preparing his supplies.

It irritated him that the question was directed at him, not Clémentine. "Yes, I think so."

Raoul could not bear to look, so he squeezed his eyes shut. On the count of three, the task was accomplished in an instant, but Clémentine's guttural scream would stick with him for much longer. It wasn't until he opened his eyes that he realized she had indeed bit down on his arm, deep enough to draw blood.

Silently weeping, he kissed her hair. He had to remain strong for her. Even Erik discretely dabbed at his tears.

Cariou produced a piece of candy from his bag. "Now, Miss Clémentine, you're going to keep your arm in a sling until it's nice and healed. I'll be back in a few weeks to check on it. You'll be alright, don't you cry."

There was something artificial in his tone that sickened Raoul. Why couldn't she cry? It was a perfectly natural response.

But Clémentine, woozy from the pain and starting to feel the effects of the laudanum, just nodded tearfully. Since Apolline had the afternoon off and was blissfully unaware of Clémentine's injury, Raoul summoned one of the newly hired maids, Francine, to take Clémentine to her room.

"Erik, could you distract the girls-" he was including Léna, who didn't seem inclined to go home- "Until Clémentine falls asleep? Perhaps try your new nose trick? Just while I settle things with Doctor Cariou."

Erik smiled for the first time in an hour. "Of course, Raoul."

As they departed, Clémentine sleepily nestled in Francine's arms, Raoul couldn't help but dread being left alone with the doctor.

"Thank you for your help," he said. "I appreciate it so much."

"Of course, Monsieur Le Vicomte, anything for an old friend," Cariou spoke in a wheedling manner. "Your daughter is quite charming, although I imagine she takes more after her mother."

Not wishing to discuss Manon, especially with him, he simply curtly nodded. "how much do I owe you?"

"We'll settle that later. As you might know, I live and practice medicine in Paris, but I come to visit my mother and sisters every few weeks. If there should be any problem before I come back, you can call on the village doctor, although Georges is getting older and winding down his career. The poor thing will be alright, I assure, just keep giving her laudanum for a few days, I've written down the doses."

"I insist on paying you," Raoul said firmly, taking out his wallet.

Cariou accepted the money with no further resistance. With a tip of his hat, he hid Raoul a good day and showed himself out.

As soon as he was alone, Raoul buried his head in his hands. Poor Clémentine, she'd be laid up in bed for of him knew it wasn't his fault, it was merely a freak accident, an act of God. But it had happened under his watch, and he couldn't help but feel responsible, as he did for all the ills of Clémentine's life.

He pulled himself together enough to check on her, but by the time he reached the nursery, his daughter was fast asleep, as was Léna Curled up beside her. Even Francine the maid, sitting in the chair beside the bed, was nearly dozing off. Erik, who was crouched awkwardly beside the bed, glanced up at him.

At Raoul's quizzical look, he spoke. "I've learned a lot in my travels, including a lullaby that seems to seldom fail to put anyone asleep. I've been told my voice has some sort of hypnotic quality."

"I'll agree with that," Francine covered her mouth to stifle a yawn.

"Erik, you could be emperor if you wanted to be," Raoul laughed despite himself. "It seems there's no end to your talents. If Apolline ever leaves her post, I think you'll be first in line to succeed her."

Erik clapped a hand over Raoul's back. "You're a good man, Raoul. Clémentine is lucky to have you."

If only that were even the slightest bit true.

Raoul dismissed Francine, giving her permission to take a nap, and took her place on the chair. He watched solemnly as her chest rose and fell. Erik kept watch as well and it wasn't until Apolline flew into the room with a thousand apologies that he realized several hours had elapsed. It was nearly dusk now, but of course, he hadn't noticed the gradual changing and shifting of the light.

"Monsieur le Vicomte, you should get yourself something to eat, do something to clear your head. poor Clémentine will be fine under my watch, I assure you."

He found himself agreeing, although part of him didn't want to ever let his daughter out of his sight again. The food could wait, he decided, and a drive was in order. The headlight on the car would illuminate enough of the road, Durand, who had been missing for most of the afternoon, helped him bundle up. Raoul set out with no plan, allowing for his whims to take him wherever they liked. Of course, where he wanted to go most was Christine's cottage to beg forgiveness. But she probably wouldn't receive him.

Aimlessly, he traveled the countryside, hoping to find some sort of clarity. But As the shadowed landscape rolled by, he found no comfort. All he could think of was his past mistakes, too numerous to count. He was so entirely consumed by his thoughts he nearly didn't notice The woman darting across the road, right into the path of the car.

He pulled on the brake just in time to avoid hitting her and realized with horror that he had nearly killed Christine Daae.

Dumbfounded, all he could do was breathe rapidly. She stared him down for a second.

"You could have killed me!" She said tersely.

His tongue felt heavy and thick in his mouth. "Why did you run into the street?" he asked, each syllable making him feel stupider.

"Never mind that," she huffed. "I should have watched where I was going, yes, but I was just chasing Aubergine."

"Aubergine? You're chasing after a vegetable?" With mild amusement, he imagined Christine hitching up her skirts to chase an eggplant rolling across the street.

She laughed despite herself. "No, that's what I call the stray cat that Lise Moigne found in her garden, Poor thing looks half-starved, but he won't let me get near him. I just want to help him."

"How do you know it's a he?"

"I'd never want to presume, but Lise's prized Siamese just had ginger kittens…"

He chuckled at that. He realized with trepidation that they were talking as if their prior disagreement had never happened. He felt a warmth in his heart that he hadn't even dreamed of for quite some time.

"Perhaps Clémentine might like a kitten, once her arm heals… I assume Monsieur l'Aubergine might be too much for her to handle,"

"What happened to her arm?" She stepped closer to him, crinkling her brow in concern.

"She fell chasing her new friend Léna and landed on it funny. Completely broken The whole thing happened not long after you left this morning."

"Oh Raoul," she gasped. "How absolutely horrible. I'll have to come to pay her a visit just to cheer her up... if she'd like that."

"I'm sure she would. You should know, What upset her the most is that you'd have to delay teaching her piano. Oh, she cried and cried about that."

She touched her chest. "That's horrid, but you tell her we can still practice singing."

Emboldened by how well their conversation was going, Raoul decided to take a chance.

"Could I give you a ride home? I don't think you'll be able to find Aubergine in the dark."

"I agree, his rescue will just have to wait for another day. If you're offering, I accept," she grasped his hand.

"Then it's settled."

Things felt right. Now if only he could issue her a proper apology.

CHRISTINE

As Raoul helped her up to his strange contraption, he spoke softly.

"I shouldn't have presumed to interfere with your friendship with Erik and Sassan. I was… misguided. More than misguided, I was being a pig-headed idiot, the opposite of the person I strive to be. I apologize, from the bottom of my heart."

She turned to him once she was seated. "I forgive you. And I'm sorry I was short with you. I think we both had a little too much to drink that night…. I want to be friends again."

His expression was unreadable for a moment, then he broke into a grin. "I'd like that very much."

"I'm glad," she said carefully. "It's been too long."

"Ah, I nearly forgot to give you your coat and hat!" Raoul fished around in the back seat, producing a nearly folded beige bundle. He plopped the veiled hat on her head, and with joy she realized it was meant for a woman.

"Oh, it fits perfectly," she said, adjusting the veil

Sheepishly, he adjusted his own hat. "Well, I bought it for you, I figured we could go for more drives… even when we were cross with each other, I kept it around just in case."

So he did think of her when she wasn't around. Still, She bit her lip. "How much did it cost? Can I repay you?"

"It's a present, Christine. No need to repay me, for this or for anything else I might give you."

There was an air of uncertainty for a second that quickly resolved when Raoul started the car. She shrieked in half-excitement, half-fear.

"Hold on," he shouted over the engine.

"How fast can this thing go?" She called, repeating herself louder when he evidently could not make out what she was saying.

"I'll show you!" He winked devilishly.

She held onto his arm for dear life as they drove, not quite as fast as a horse, but still thrilling. When Raoul drove over one particularly high bump in the road, the force jolted her a few inches above her seat for a split second, thankfully landing back down safely. After that, as exhilarating as it was, she clung to Raoul even tighter, hoping he wouldn't mind.

The drawback of going so fast was that the ride was over much sooner. Raoul pulled up to her cottage and stopped the engine with a splutter.

"Uh… here we are…" he said. "Let me help you get off."

He sprang to his feet, climbing down and crossing to her side of the car. Raoul offered his hand, and she accepted. As she got down, she didn't want the moment to end.

"I can come by tomorrow, to visit Clémentine? That is, if you don't mind, of course," she removed the hat and coat, passing them to him.

"Christine, you can visit any time you like, it's always a joy to have you around." He seemed to be genuine.

Her cheeks felt flushed. "Of course. I'll come over in the morning."

"I'll be there," he hesitantly kissed her hand.

"Well," she said, taking her key out her pocket. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Once she was safely inside, she heard Raoul start up the engine again and drive away. As she busied herself with tidying up the kitchen, someone knocked on the door. As she ever so slightly cracked open the door, she was met with eyes she didn't ever want to see again.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed. "Does your wife know you're here?"

"Never mind her. Is it true you've gotten what you've always wanted?" Daniel Cariou laughed, a bitter, cruel sound that filled her with dread.

"I don't know what you mean," she tried to close the door but his brute strength kept it open.

"The Vicomte's whore, am I right? That's what I've heard, that you've been spending quite a bit of time with him. I'm sure your other paramour, Lunel, is quite jealous. But you did always have your sights set on wealth, didn't you?" He absolutely reeked of tobacco and liquor.

"Why did you come here?" she repressed the urge to cry with all her might. "What can I offer you? Did you bring your scalpel this time, care to give me another scar? It's been over between us for years now, I gave you back your ring, what more can I give to you?"

He regarded her with disdain. "My mother tells me you bought a wedding magazine the other day. I see you think poor Miss Clémentine needs a stepmother, but I thought perhaps Monsieur le Vicomte should know what he's getting into. After all, a loose, poor, immigrant woman like yourself has no use to him as a bride."

Tears rolled down her violently red face. "Please, you never understood what Raoul and I had. Not for a moment. I cared for you, I did, and if you could control your temper-"

"Poor Christine," he jeered. "So misunderstood. I'll be back in a few weeks… hopefully Monsieur le Vicomte doesn't hear about your sordid past."

"It would be tantamount to a confession," she spat. "You're not going to get what you want from telling him."

"And what policeman would ever believe you? Certainly not one here. I'll see you very soon, Christine."

He turned on his heel and left. And all she could do was put on her nightdress, throw herself into bed, and hope for the sweet embrace of sleep.