Disclaimer: I am neither Andrew Lloyd Webber nor Gaston Leroux.
Author Note: Hey guys, it's a double update today to make up for the lack of progress! There's so much drama and yet for some reason I'm finding it crazily difficult to write!
So this is a weird chapter. It's short and in-betweeny and a little erratic because I am finding it so challenging to write this part of the story convincingly! But I think it was needed. Raoul and Christine had a lot of unfinished business between them, and that coupled with Christine's heartbreak over Erik was not a healthy mixture. I'm worried by how much I've come to like Raoul as I write this fic!
Thank you so much to all those who reviewed last time; audreydianne21, Filhound, MarilynKC, TMara, Erikroolsall, phantomphan4ever, DaaehardPhan and Cassasass. Your wonderful comments put a big smile on my face :)
And again, sorry updates are taking so long, life is stupidly busy. I will try to get chapters up as soon as humanly possible.
Twenty Nine- To Lose is to Love
Raoul had never seen Christine so angry. Even when she had slapped him around the face and hissed in her contempt paled in comparison to this- she was practically glowing with fury, her eyes burning with a vibrancy he hadn't seen in her since Erik had fled and left her heartbroken. Neither he nor Nadir had been expecting to find her in this state; they had been summoned from Nadir's home by a screaming gaggle of ballerinas, all pounding on the door and sobbing all sorts of nonsense, working both of them up into a complete frenzy so that they sprinted their way to the Populaire, not even stopping to put on jackets as they barrelled out of the house. Needless to say, the occupants of Paris had found it highly amusing to see two well dressed men running through the mucky streets in shirtsleeves, faces contorted into looks of horror.
Raoul had been expecting to find her a sobbing mess, collapsed in a heap on the floor, needing his soothing words and strong arms to carry her home. Instead, when they burst into the foyer, red faced and gasping out desperate queries for her well-being, Christine launched herself at him, screaming and kicking and trying to inflict whatever damage she could as Meg hauled her backwards, shouting over the din that they should probably leave the opera house before they were removed by the concerned looking foyer attendants.
"How dare you!" she screamed at him, and Raoul could take a moment out of the horrifying situation to think how unfair it all was that she was directing all her anger at him and ignoring Nadir completely. "HOW DARE YOU?! You let me think that- you all let me think that he- that he- why didn't you tell me?"
"Christine-" Raoul said helplessly, feeling a true idiot as he reached out to her, a gesture of helplessness, and she batted him away, shrugging Meg away too as she suddenly wrapped her arms around herself and hunched over, shaking her head.
"No, no-!" the words were strangled, and Raoul realised in horror that it was because sobs were starting to break through now. "I feel so- I feel- I don't know how I feel! I don't know anything anymore, I don't know who he is, who I am, what any of this means!"
It was as if she were a puppet and the puppeteer had let go of the strings- Christine Daae, blazing with fury, suddenly crumpled into awful childlike sobs and ran full on at Raoul, barrelling into him and sobbing into his chest, beating him with her curled fists and hiccupping as she continued to cry and rant and disintegrate in his arms.
"I don't understand any of this!" she sobbed, and Raoul stoked her hair and tried not to react to her words, other than to murmur and soothe. "I just want Erik to come back- I want to be back in the clan, some disgusting gypsy whore, spending her days with the mysterious stranger and her nights singing with him! I don't want any of this- I don't want to remember!"
Christine knew that no-one else would understand how she was feeling- they would all imagine that she was frightened, or angry with Erik, or filled with hate. All of those bitter, twisted emotions would be understandable, acceptable, and normal! And yet she felt none of them!
The realisation had scalded her when she finally saw it, standing in the ballet dormitories only to fall screaming that name that meant so much to her. He was supposed to be perfect- he was supposed to be the one person in this tangled mess of a world that she could be sure of, that she could entrust with her heart. She had dared to imagine that their dark past had been nothing more than some silly scandalous affair, a thing that society might frown upon but she would adore, secretly, in that deep and dark corner of her mind that lusted and coveted and thought and felt all those things that good little girls shouldn't. But it was so much worse, so raw and real and awful...
She just couldn't stop thinking about that night, in the caravan. She had lain in his arms and trembled to feel his hands upon her, wishing for and terrified that those hands might stray into uncharted territory and further kindle the burn that had started, hot and low inside her. Those hands, those soft and slender and beautiful hands, that had wiped away tears and stroked her hair and caressed the strings of a violin-
Those hands had killed!
She should feel dirty- she should feel tainted by his touch and his love. A shudder ripped through her then and she doubled in on herself, guttural sobs coming again, hot and unrelenting as she saw that screaming, twisted face in her mind. He was the demon who stalked her dreams and hid in the shadows, clawing onto her ankle and keeping her in the dark, the villain of this fairytale life she had supposedly lead. He was evil.
But she could not accept that. Her heart beat wildly against the accusation, her head refused to let the thought sink in- she could not bring herself to accept that Erik, her Erik, was that monster!
"I should hate him Raoul!" she wept against her childhood friend, feeling his own tears seeping into her hair and realising that perhaps he did understand her after all. "I should hate him for all of this, this deceit, these lies, this evil. But I can't! I can't!"
"You don't have to hate him." Raoul told her fiercely, pulling her even closer, needing her in that moment as much as she needed him. "You never have to hate him- oh, I have been such a fool! I will explain this to you Christine- I promise that I will make this all make sense to you. I promise, I promise."
Perhaps it was the emotion of the moment, or simply the fact that Raoul was so catastrophically in love with her. Whatever the reason, he felt himself overcome by it, and he pushed her head back and kissed her, fierce and demanding and desperate to taste her lips on his own. Nadir looked away and felt his heart tighten in his chest, wanting to storm over there and demand that Raoul respect the friendship he had forged with Erik and leave love out of this mess but when love was the undisputable cause of events, that was an impossible demand. He felt Meg's tiny hand grip onto his arm, and he patted it gently with a fatherly sadness. He walked out of the foyer and into the busy Parisian streets, Meg in tow, wondering if Erik knew precisely what he had caused- wondering if he would ever know just what his cowardice had done.
Raoul broke off the kiss with a gasp, staring down into Christine's wide and confused eyes, seeing the mass of curls and the full rose lips and feeling tears slip down his cheeks with wanting for her. She wasn't pushing him away- those were her arms around him, those were her hands on his face, those were her lips that he felt moving with his own as he gave a cry and stole another kiss from her, heart racing and head pounding. He ached to be with her- the months and months of self control, of torment as he befriended Erik, had been washed away by a few grief stricken tears and now Raoul felt as if he might burst.
"I love you so much." He whispered, his hands quivering as he touched her, and she went cold and unresponsive beneath his fingertips. There was no warm blush as he trailed across her cheek, no shiver of pleasure as his words tickled the delicate skin of her neck. "I have caused so much trouble and made such a mess of things, lied to you inexcusably- but now I cannot keep avoiding the fact that I am in love with you Christine Daae and on the night of the accident that left you without your memories, alone and confused, you had made a choice. I need to know if that choice was me."
"Raoul-" Christine sounded confused. "I don't understand- what accident? What choice?"
"Do you love me?" he asked her, the words so passionate and adoring and filled with love that it was hard to believe that any woman might resist him in that moment. But Christine just stared back at him, her eyes welling up with tears as she seemed to realise the full gravity of her words and she shook her head, face crumpling as she did. "Christine, I would love you forever. I will, regardless of-"
"But I do not return those feelings." She whispered softly, touching his cheek as her eyes spilled yet more tears. Raoul nodded once, shuddering with the pain. "I'm so sorry Raoul."
Raoul had known, if he admitted it to himself, that she didn't love him. But in that awful vulnerable moment he had needed to ask and hear those words from her own lips- if not, he knew the thought of what might have been would haunt him for the rest of his days and he would never be free of it. He felt his shoulders sag and Christine looked so desperately sad for him, but it was an expression of relief rather than depression. Though he felt wounded now, he knew that it would be alright in the end, and for now that simple knowledge was enough.
"You don't need to apologise Christine." He offered her a small smile and she crumpled again and had to bite her lip hard so as not to dissolve into silly sobs. "In fact, it makes life a great deal easier for us both. I just wanted to hear those words from you- to know, for sure, that things have changed."
"I wish I could be sure of something." She whispered, her words bewildered, as if she did not quite understand what she meant by those words and yet her heart had somehow compelled her to say them. Raoul took her hands in his own and squeezed them tightly.
"You will be sure of everything. You and I will go and find Nadir, we will go back to his home and we will tell you everything, the whole truth. It is something that we should have done long ago but none of us wanted to interfere, not when you were both so happy." Raoul sounded guilty and Christine had to swallow back the angry remarks. Yes, she had been happy, but happy in ignorance!
"I'm not sure I can do that, Raoul." She said softly, and he looked confused. "I love Erik. I can't help but love him. But to hear you and Nadir explain to me what he has done, to learn the truth- it will break my heart. I'm scared that when I hear the things he has done and the pain he has caused, that… that I will still love him, still want him, still need him- oh God! There is something terribly wrong with all of this, I can't-!"
"You're scared because you know that he has committed evil and yet you still love him?" Raoul asked, not wanting her to answer him because he already knew that it was precisely the issue that was scaring her. "Christine, there is no man alive who has not committed foul deeds and evil in his lifetime. We're all human- we all make mistakes, some more catastrophic and hurtful than others, but all made for the same reason in the end. And that is the same for you, for me, and for Erik." He paused, wiping away the few tears on her face with a firm expression. "Now, I understand that you feel hurt. You have suffered what seems to be the ultimate betrayal, had games played with your very existence, even come to learn that the man you love is not quite who he seemed. But running from the truth, your own feelings? That will only ever end with misery and bitterness, and you are worth so much more than that Christine Daae."
"I am afraid and I am weak. I won't deny that." She said softly, wiping the final tears from her cheeks and tilting up her chin, instantly seeming composed and strong and beautiful and Raoul felt his chest swell with pride for his ridiculous soprano, seeing a strength in her that he knew she would never see herself. "But all of this, it is meaningless. Because Erik has left me. He couldn't face me as himself, Raoul- he didn't believe that I could love him. And that…that doubt he holds, it hurts. He doesn't think I truly love him."
"You know, I learned from a man that I have come to love very much that sometimes the ultimate gesture of true love is to let someone go." Raoul said gently, thinking of Erik and wishing that the stupid fool were here to hear this. "Erik has spent his whole life loving and losing you, Christine. He doesn't know how to love you without letting you go. But you will come to understand that, when Nadir and I explain to you the truth behind Erik. And perhaps once you understand him, everything else will fall into place."
Christine nodded once, her face betraying none of her nerves but her eyes dancing with fear. But rather than turn and flee from this opera house, she took a ragged breath and squeezed Raoul's hand tightly within her own, looking out to the Parisian streets beyond the foyer and understanding in a beautifully rare moment of perfect clarity that she was in control- it was down to her to step forwards and make her own life make sense.
"You…you will help me, Raoul?" she asked, the jittery nerves stalling her for a moment.
And the Vicomte de Chagny smiled down at the soprano, threading his arm through hers and looking out into Paris and beyond.
"Of course I will. I always will."