Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people, but in later chapters though)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Story Note: Not much happens here. Though Raoul and Philippe interact, and things get set up for an eventual encounter between Raoul and Erik (which is all we really want to see, right?). Oh, and Raoul finally takes the time to think about what had happened.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 08 – Small Steps Forward

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Raoul finds Christine's room empty and so goes through the mirror. In the tunnels, Erik has taken Christine and then runs into Raoul. More promises ensue and Erik finds out that Raoul does not remember him.

o.o.o

Raoul stepped out of the tunnel into an unfamiliar hallway. Actually, it was familiar, but that was only because all the hallways looked the same in the Opera Populaire – at least they did to Raoul in this semi-darkness.

He also had yet to explore the opera house completely, but as he looked down the hallway making sure it was empty, he knew the only way to find his way out would be to just start walking. Keeping in mind where the entrance to the tunnel had been, Raoul managed to find his way out relatively easily. Once he had made it to the main hallway, he could guess where next to turn.

It was not as though he could depend on anyone else. The opera house had been the emptiest Raoul had ever seen it be. He had been surprised to see it so empty. Then again, he realized that it had to be almost sunrise.

Surprisingly, his coachman had left without him, but finding another carriage was not very hard. People needed to make money, and Raoul did not question the carriage that had set up its business near the opera house. He was simply glad he did not need to walk home.

He took care to stop the carriage a distance away from the house to ensure that the noise of the horses would not wake anyone. Slipping into his own home like a thief, he flopped onto his bed exhausted. He only spared the effort it took to remove his shoes before snuggling deep into the blankets.

o.o.o

By the time Erik arrived home, he had calmed down somewhat. Somewhat. The walk back had been helpful. He was less angry, but he still felt restless. He had lost all sense of his goals in that moment with Raoul. He forgot his own promise to leave Raoul alone. It could not be that hard to stay away from him.

He sighed heavily and dropped into the seat in front of his organ.

But in that moment, he had wanted to know everything about Raoul. He had wanted to make up for the past fifteen years. He wanted to know about his past, about his parents, and about his childhood, and that fixation was dangerous. He would have done anything to find out what he wanted to know. With Raoul, the extent of damage he could have done perhaps would be nothing, but Erik would have lost himself in an obsession with Raoul. He would have discarded eleven years of hard work with Christine.

He looked across the room. Though all he could see were the drapes, he knew Christine to be lying just beyond on the bed asleep. Christine. His Christine. He would have to return her.

He knew that for now she did not only belong to him. She belonged to the stage as well. She needed to be in front of those people. She needed to sing for them in a way that he never could. Then, later he would take her back and she would never leave his side again.

He had also made that deal, that promise with Raoul. Raoul had made a valid point. If Erik wanted his opera house to succeed, Christine was the best lead singer available. She could not sing if he continued to hold her captive. Still, he did not know why he had made that swear. He had wanted to see some sign of familiarity.

Erik had never felt obligated to keep promises, but then again, Raoul was the only one he ever made promises with – besides himself. When it came to Raoul, he would keep his promises because at one time in his life, Raoul had looked at him with no hatred, no spite. He had seen him without his mask and still did not despise him. In fact, Raoul had looked at him with absolute trust, and he had never seen that expression ever again in his life.

He had not even seen it on Christine. Then again, she had never seen his face. The only time she had actually seen him and not her own reflection, she had been caught in his song. That state of mind hardly counted for anything.

What would he do with Christine now?

If he was not going to keep her with him, he could not actually let her remember that he had indeed kidnapped her. He could not let her realize that her Angel of Music was a man. In fact, he was nothing but a ghost, one that terrorized the opera house. He wanted to continue to tutor her. He had to. She had much room for improvement.

What was more important was that she still trusted him. She still believed in him implicitly, almost like Raoul had. Then again, Raoul had known who he was. There had been no pretenses between them. Erik feared that once Christine realized his lie, all trust between them would be broken, and all his hopes would be dashed. Once she realized that he had not been sent to her by her father, she would see him for who he really was. Who was he really? A man, a liar, a murderer, a ghost? He had faith in the angel he played though.

On the other hand, he could use this as an opportunity to exert his authority over the managers. They were rather impertinent. The previous manager had done well to maintain his box and his salary. Erik doubted that these two would do so.

He could also use this opportunity to further Christine's career. Much of Paris now knew of Mlle Daae and they would want to see her. He knew that it would cause a scandal to hear that she had turned up missing. If he allowed the publicity to take hold, the managers would have no other choice but to utilize her talents. He could very well force their hand in the matter as well. However, he would have to keep her longer than an evening to prove his point.

He could not both keep her ignorant of her situation and keep her away from the opera house.

Unless…

He looked over at the drawer where he kept his various medicines. He had enough laudanum for a small army, but to drug Christine would risk harming her. There was always the chance of addiction. Then what would Erik do? Addictions did not occur over night though. A few days could not be too harmful. He did not know how a few days with her under the influence of the drug would be on her body. But technically, it was medicine. She would just be extremely groggy when he finally let her wake up.

Erik stood up and walked to watch her sleep. He did not rightly remember how much laudanum he had given her, but she would be asleep until well into the morning. He could decide then what he would do with her.

He had to clear his mind. Sleep was out of the question; instead, he forced himself in front of the organ and began to play.

o.o.o

Raoul woke up startled. His limbs felt heavy and when he tried to sit up, his head felt heavy as well. He kicked off the bed sheets feeling surprisingly hot. His heart was racing, and he was breathing erratically. It felt as though he had been running.

And, he had been – in his dreams, at least. He had been chased through a carnival. The tents and people had been blurs as he ran desperately away from someone. He did not remember the face of what chased him. He remembered thinking of monsters though he had not tried to look back. All he knew was that he needed to run and every now and then, it felt as though the thing behind him was coming so very close. Something horrible would happen if he were caught. He had just run into a dead end on the streets of some city he could not remember with the shadow close approaching when he woke up.

Rolling out of bed, he wondered what time it was. His body felt sore, and a headache was slowly forming. He hoped he was not getting sick. Feeling his own forehead, he did not feel any hotter than normal. He walked over to the curtains and pulled them open. When bright beams of light forcefully streamed through the window, he pulled away from the window quickly. His head throbbed in protest. The light was too painful. It had to be sometime in the afternoon already. He wondered how he had managed to sleep in so long. It would explain why his limbs felt so heavy. He had overslept.

His stomach made itself known by growling loudly. His headache could also be explained by hunger. He hoped the cook had made something good for lunch. He checked himself over in the mirror and scowled. His clothes were horribly wrinkled and were in disarray. He considered changing, but when his stomach growled again, he decided he could always change after some food. Stepping out of his room, he walked down the hallway towards the stairs.

Running into a young maid dusting the furniture, Raoul raised his hand in greeting when she spotted him and then promptly screamed.

Raoul stumbled backward not having expected that reaction. The young maid dropped the duster and stared at him wide-eyed.

"What was that?" was the only response Raoul could think to say. He ventured to say further when she continued to stare at him mutely, "Are you alright?"

"Msr Vicomte," she said disbelieving when she finally snapped out of her stupor. "I apologize. I don't know… but I didn't expect…"

Raoul cut her rambling off. He approached her slowly. Perhaps he had snuck up on her, but he did not think he had been that quiet. She was a relatively new maid, one just taken once they had arrived in Paris, and he did not want her to think he made light of scaring the help.

"Why did you scream?" He asked gently, not wanting to upset her with the question.

She looked at him in confusion, "We had gotten word from the managers that you had been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?" Raoul hoped he had heard wrong.

"Yes," she nodded, "They first discovered the prima donna of Hannibal was missing. They contacted us to find out whether you had taken her out, but your carriage had still been at the opera house."

Raoul listened with growing embarrassment. He had arrived so early in the morning that he had snuck into his own house. He had not thought about informing anyone that he had been out. He did not particularly think that he should have had to inform anyone, but he never knew them all to be such alarmists.

"We waited growing ever more worried about your safety because you'd never done anything like this before. The coachman waited but when he thought that perhaps you had gone home, he returned. And the managers were so troubled that we even sent word to Philippe."

"You told Philippe!" Raoul exclaimed. The maid flinched, but he did not care about her reaction anymore. How would he explain this to Philippe? "He's away on business though. You shouldn't have…"

"Vicomte!" Another maid, an older one that had worked for them since Raoul could remember, came rushing over. She was closely followed by a butler, the coachman, and the cook. They all approached with relieved expressions and all began talking at the same time.

Raoul was glad that they had been worried and even sorrier that he had made them worry, but he never quite liked people fussing over him.

He quieted them down, "I am quite apologetic for causing you all such worry, but I am alright. I had not been in any danger at all" – that was a lie, but he could not tell them that "I arrived in the morning and hadn't wanted to disturb your rest."

"Where were you?" The coachman asked.

Raoul faltered. That was a very good question that he should have realized sooner they would ask. He could not say he had tried to track down Christine only to find that she had been kidnapped by the notorious opera ghost. Then, said opera ghost had made a deal with him. He was certain the ghost wanted his silence on the matter anyway.

"Well," Raoul blushed at their scrutiny.

Seeing his expression and his disheveled state, his butler jumped to conclusions and took control of the situation. He began to shoo everyone away. At their protests, he commented, "The Vicomte is at the age where he needs to be finding a suitable… companion." He brought his two forefingers repeatedly together until realization dawned on the others.

Raoul blushed deeper when he too realized what his butler was implying. "Wait. It's not like that." He tried to protest. He should have kept his mouth shut since he was being giving a way out of the situation, but he didn't want them thinking he was like that. He would deal with the consequences of not knowing what to say as long as he did not have to see his butler do that hand motion again.

Five pair of eyes looked at him skeptically and then looked at his state of dress. Raoul looked down realizing that he was not only wearing the clothes from last night but also that their state was not helping his argument.

"But…" He tried again.

The older maid commented sternly, "Please be sure to contact us when you will be late."

He nodded dumbly and watched as they each left to return to their work.

The cook called back to him, "Lunch has been kept, but it will be ready shortly."

"I…" Raoul stood in the now empty hallway not quite sure what had happened. His headache, which had dulled momentarily due to his shock, only sharpened in the quiet.

He backtracked and changed into clean and pressed clothing before going to his study. He sat down behind his desk before slouching low, wondering how he could bear to look at any of them ever again. Instead of dwelling on that awkward situation, he decided to pass the time while his meal was being prepared by figuring out what his next course of action would be. He would have to wait and see what the ghost's demands were before he could address that obstacle.

His first action would be to send word to the managers saying that he had never been kidnapped. He pulled out some loose-leaf paper and began writing his message. It would also say that Christine would from henceforth be their lead singer. Raoul knew that neither the managers nor Carlotta would like it, but he was more concerned about the success of the opera house. He appealed to their sense of business. After reaching about halfway through the paper, he realized that a letter would be insufficient. Crumpling up the paper, he pulled out a clean sheet and wrote a short note to the managers saying that he would be arriving at the opera house later in the afternoon. Once he sent the letter out, he groaned realizing that he would have to confront them when he was not feeling well.

He hoped a good meal would be the needed remedy to cure his headache. Raoul did not feel like leaving the estate today and considered putting off the meeting until later, but he had sent the note already. He had to act fast anyway. This was a delicate matter and the rehearsals for Il Muto would start soon. He had to declare that Christine would be lead. She would be the lead if the ghost kept promises and returned her.

He could almost believe that last night had all been a dream. The opera ghost was real. Philippe would not believe his story.

Philippe!

He scrambled upright realizing he had to send a message saying that he had not been kidnapped. Maybe he could catch the first messenger that said he had been kidnapped or at least he could catch Philippe before he left unnecessarily so.

With both letters sent, he was soon called to eat.

Raoul ate what he considered lunch in thoughtful silence. His head was feeling a little better, but a dull ache remained.

How could all of this be happening? It was an opera house. All the drama was supposed to take place on the stage, not in his life.

He ate trying to prepare himself for what he knew would be an argument with the managers. He did not know why they were so invested in La Carlotta. Whatever reason it was, Raoul was certain that logic would overcome all their excuses. It was plain common sense and good business practice to make Christine their lead singer. Raoul believed in common sense. He also knew that he had just as much fervor and business savvy to convince the managers.

He was a little more worried about running into the opera ghost again.

Thinking about their last encounter confused him. He was starting to think that maybe it had been all a dream. Really. A pinky swear? He had not pinky sworn since he was a child. But when the opera ghost had suggested it, he had been caught off-guard. There had been that image that had flashed in his mind. Who had that boy been? When Raoul tried to conjure up the image in his head, it was much less clear than when he had first seen it. He could only see a scrawny body of a teenager. He was certain that he had seen a face then, but now there was nothing there. Could that boy be the source of the voice in his head? The mysterious opera ghost had reminded him of Erik, so why wouldn't he help refresh his memory? But why would a pinky swear with the opera ghost trigger a memory?

All he knew was that the renewed novelty of a pinky swear had made him excited. He had eagerly agreed to it seeing a familiar action in such an unfamiliar situation as he had been in. He had wanted to make the promise as such, but who was he kidding? He would have told the ghost anyway in hopes that they would be on good terms. And in the end, he did not know if the opera ghost would keep his promise. Men swore on their honour, not on their pinky.

He could not jump to the conclusion that the ghost had no honour though. What if Raoul was just thinking about it too much? Maybe... He could barely complete the thought before being overwhelmed by the absurdity. Maybe pinky swears were the only thing that the opera ghost would swear upon. It was a swear on your body. Where else would a ghost swear? Raoul stabbed at his food. The last thing a ghost should swear upon was their body!

Raoul himself took them very seriously. He remembered that Philippe told him a pinky swear meant he could not betray someone nor be betrayed in turn. It meant a lot to Raoul even at that young age to know that he would not be betrayed by someone. He did not know why, but he had never been very trusting of people. It took him months if not years to be comfortable in other people's presence. His family were the only ones he trusted implicitly.

Philippe did not trust others either. Raoul eventually concluded that it was probably due to Philippe's influence that he did not trust others. Philippe had always been oddly protective of him. That was the first impression he had of his brother. He knew that Philippe would never betray him. No pinky swear necessary.

Did the ghost know that rule though? He had always thought it was what was told to children so that they had something concrete to understand about keeping one's word. There was nothing binding about a pinky swear. You would not die. Raoul knew of people who had died because of honour though.

Raoul realized that he had spent the whole meal dissecting his thoughts about pinky swears. He was definitely thinking too much about it. He was reading too much in an action that probably had no meaning behind it whatsoever.

He decided to put it from his mind and head over to the opera house. He had to think about what he would say to the managers. By the time he reached Opera Populaire though, he had made little progress forming new arguments besides the ones he felt were entirely obvious. He had been thinking about the ghost again. His interest had been peaked, and he knew a way into the tunnel. He knew two ways into the tunnel.

If he were honest, he would admit that he had spent much of the carriage ride reviewing the map of the tunnels in his head. He still had a clear map that led him from both the hallway entrance and Christine's room to the point where he had run into the ghost. If the ghost had come from there, then it meant that wherever he lived had to be in that direction. He could go…

The carriage stopped and he tried to push those thoughts from his mind. He could not go into those tunnels again. Not only could he get lost, but he was trespassing into the ghost's territory. Who knew how long the ghost's benevolence would remain? He had to hold his curiosity at bay.

Assuming they would be waiting for him, he walked confidently towards the managers' office.

He knocked before entering.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen." Raoul shallowly bowed.

The managers stood up from behind their desks.

"We were quite relieved to receive word from you that you had not been kidnapped," Andre commented.

Firmin motioned for him to sit, and Raoul did. The managers followed in suit.

"And the status of Mlle Daae?" Raoul asked. He hoped that the ghost had returned her after their confrontation, but the managers shook their heads.

Firmin replied, "Unfortunately, our assumption that she had been kidnapped remain true."

"And the culprit?" Raoul inquired.

Andre looked uneasy about the question, but Firmin answered without undue reaction, "We are uncertain at the moment." Andre was about to speak when Firmin cut him off, "We have our suspicions though."

Raoul wanted to hear them admit that there was an opera ghost, so pressed further, "And those suspicions include?"

Firmin frowned and looked towards Andre.

"We believe," Andre said rather nervously, "that the opera ghost has taken her."

"A ghost?" Raoul replied skeptically. It would be best to play this confrontation ignorant.

"Not any ghost," Raoul could tell that Andre was getting riled up. His voice was rising and he began to speak faster, "Surely you have heard of the ghost that haunts this opera house. We had not believed it ourselves, but then accidents kept happening. Strange, strange noises occur at night as well." Andre's voice dropped to a whisper, "If you listen at night, you can hear the music he plays."

The last part peaked Raoul's interest. Music? He had heard the ghost when he said that he was Christine's voice teacher, but he had not actually thought of what that entails. He knew he wanted to hear the man sing, but now he wanted to know what other talents he was hiding. Raoul had the sudden urge to find his way back into the tunnels - accidentally of course - and search for the source of the music.

Raoul could not though. He was not here the listen to stories about a ghost he had already met in person and whose rumours told nothing about pinky swears.

"I see," Raoul dismissed the topic, and Firmin looked relieved, "I came here to speak about other considerations."

Firmin's attention was finally caught. "And that would pertain to?"

"Mlle Daae."

"Besides her kidnapping I assume," Andre commented.

Raoul nodded. "Besides her kidnapping of course. We all know that she was quite a success in Hannibal."

Firmin perked up considerably at the mention. It had been a success. They had gotten quite a bit of income from that opera. Much more than the scrap business had ever brought in.

Andre nodded eagerly, "Yes, she was quite brilliant. Her voice is quite amazing."

Raoul nodded in agreement. "I believe it to be in the best interest of this opera house if she became lead singer for all operas."

Both managers looked uneasy about his request.

Firmin was the first to verbalize his unease, "She is still quite young."

"She has been well-trained," Raoul replied, "Her voice is what we need and her age only means that she can only get better from here on."

Firmin nodded slowly, "La Carlotta has quite the following."

Raoul scoffed, "I had to push my way through hoards of fans outside the opera house waiting to see Mlle Daae. She has performed in one opera and she has already garnered the affection of quite a number of your audience."

Seeing both managers hesitate still, Raoul could not understand why they were hesitating. He looked from Andre and Firmin waiting for a reason. He could tell that they knew all the advantages of making Christine the lead singer. He was certain that they too had considered it, but still some reason was holding them back. Raoul just could not figure out what that reason was.

Andre finally broke the silence, "Replacing La Carlotta puts the opera house in quite a bind since she will surely throw a tantrum..."

"To put it lightly," Firmin mumbled.

"And if she decides not to perform," Andre pushed forward, "then Signore Piangi might see fit to quite the stage as well."

Raoul had not thought of that. Even if they had a replacement for La Carlotta, if Signore Piangi left, they would be very much in trouble. Still, Raoul would not budge from his stance. The managers looked at his reaction and realized this.

"Piangi sang in Hannibal, did he not?" He did not wait for them to respond. "It would be worse," Raoul said slowly to make sure they understood what he was saying, "if the opera house had no patron."

Andre looked shocked, but Firmin only looked irritated.

"I am only thinking of the best interest of this opera house. I will not let you allow a potentially famous prima donna be pushed into the sidelines."

Andre looked about to protest again when Firmin once again cut him off.

"We understand your position, Vicomte. In the next production of Il Muto, Christine will play the lead and God willing if La Carlotta allows, she and Piangi will be in the opera as well."

Raoul nodded. He knew that it would be the best course of action for the opera house. With someone like Christine as their prima donna, the Opera Populaire would soon be the premier opera house in all of France. He had that much faith in Christine. Or perhaps it was Christine's teacher. If he could make her sing like that, then Raoul knew he had to put all his faith in them.

Raoul believed that even just a fraction of Erik's voice... if the world heard it, they would immediately fall in love with it. They would come from all around the world to hear it. That was what Christine would achieve one day. Raoul was certain of it.

He just needed the managers to see it as well. Though admittedly, convincing them had taken considerably less time than he had initially set aside for it. He was beginning to feel uneasy. Standing up to take his leave, he bade farewell and exited the office.

He was so lost in thought that he almost ran into La Carlotta who was heading towards the managers' office herself.

"Good afternoon," Raoul bowed deeply.

She smiled and laughed coyly, "Msr Vicomte. Good afternoon," she curtseyed.

Raoul continued walking. He could not wait to get home. He had barely been awake for a few hours, and he felt tired already. His headache was slowly coming back as well. When he concentrated on other things, the headache abated. It was still present, but he could ignore it. He decided to pass some time in his study trying to finish all his other work before dinner. He considered allowing himself to be lackadaisical and just return to sleep, but knew he could not headache or not.

At least he could look forward to dinner.

o.o.o

By noon, Erik was becoming slightly alarmed. Christine showed no signs of waking any time soon. He had checked her breathing rather compulsively in the last hour. If he had taken the amount he had given her, he would have been awake hours before noon.

Christine was nowhere near waking.

Erik tried to calm himself down by pacing, which he found did not work. He told himself that she would be alright. She was breathing well. Her pallor had not deteriorated. She was just resting. Just resting.

He told himself that until three hours after noon when he finally saw the tell tale signs that she was waking. At least now, he knew that the laudanum had not done damage to her. It would make giving her the second dose of laudanum that much easier. One day. All he wanted was one more day and he would return her to the opera house, but until then, she would have to sleep.

He carefully lifted her up into a sitting position. Grabbing a small vial of laudanum, he poured it down her throat. She swallowed reflexively before falling back onto the bed. He did not know if she would wake up even with the second dose, but she at least he knew that she would feel very relaxed. She would feel like she was dreaming. She would just need a little help to draw her back to sleep, and Erik knew exactly how to do that. He walked over to his organ and began to play softly, coaxing her asleep.

He was letting her go for just a bit. She would think all of this had been a dream. They would meet face to face again, and they would have a chance to be together. Erik would make sure of that. Until that moment came though, Erik would have to remain an angel.

o.o.o

Raoul ate dinner in silence. He was picking at his food since he had not had an appetite. He was consciously trying to ignore his headache, but it only made it worse. There was nothing to distract himself with. He did not feel like he was getting sick, so it was probably just stress.

He could not help but think about the ghost. He had looked to be about Philippe's age. Maybe older, but with half of his face covered, he could not rightly tell. He wanted to go back into those tunnels. Only pure self-restraint kept him in his seat when all he wanted to do was search for the ghost.

And then do what?

He had some faith that the ghost would return Christine. If he had given her that voice, he could not be a completely disreputable man. No, he did not want to go into the tunnels to save Christine. Not that again. He wanted to go to explore or maybe to spy on the ghost. Maybe he would hear him sing. Raoul stood up, and then promptly sat back down.

What was he thinking?

He could not go traipsing through the tunnels. There were traps. Raoul thought about that for a moment. He had not seen any traps at all in his time in the tunnels. Maybe the ghost had been lying. Traps did not seem so far-fetched though. He had not seemed to be lying. It did not matter. He would not go into those tunnels again. Unless he was invited of course. How could he get an invitation?

He knew that he would not receive one tonight. Raoul wished something would distract him.

He was startled when the front door banged open. Raoul went over to investigate and nearly ran into Philippe.

"Philippe! What are you...?" Raoul was surprised. He had assumed that the letter would get to Philippe before he left. Unfortunately, he had been wrong.

"Raoul?" Philippe's expressions moved from surprised, to relieved, to angry.

Raoul took a few steps back, but Philippe grabbed his shoulders and jerked him closer. Raoul flinched expecting to be hit, but Philippe just hugged him.

"Philippe?"

Raoul stood still. He had never known his brother to be the hugging type. Philippe held on tightly, almost too tightly.

"Ow, Philippe?" Raoul squirmed. Philippe was holding too tightly, "That hurts."

"Oh really?" Philippe commented uncaring, "It hurts, does it?"

Philippe only squeezed tighter. Raoul tried harder to get out. He should have seen this coming. Philippe was angry, probably rightly so. He had traveled all the way home just to check up on him. Raoul knew that he would have been worried had their positions been switched. Raoul just hoped that his brother would soon realize that he should be glad that he was safe. Any longer in this bear hug and Raoul thought he was either going to faint from lack of oxygen or dislocate his shoulder soon, but then Philippe suddenly let go. Raoul fell backward gasping for air. He barely managed to stay on his feet.

"I'm glad to see you, too. Well, as you can see, I'm safe," Raoul commented sheepishly.

Philippe glared at him. He did not look like he was going to relax any time soon. Raoul was starting to think that he was not going to say anything when suddenly, Philippe yelled.

"Kidnapped!"

Raoul opened his mouth to explain, but Philippe continued to yell.

"Kidnapped, again!"

Raoul was about to say something when he realized what Philippe had said. "Again?"

"Yes again. Don't even talk to me right now."

"But, brother..." Raoul tried to his best to convey his apology.

"Don't brother me." Philippe began to walk away. Raoul followed him into the kitchen. To the cook, Philippe ordered, "Please have my dinner sent to my study please."

The cook nodded and Philippe left to his bedroom with Raoul on his tail sputtering after him. In front of his bedroom door, Philippe stopped suddenly. Raoul ran into him.

"Sorry."

"Don't talk to me. Just don't." Philippe said sternly before walking into his room and slamming the door shut in Raoul's face.

Raoul stood outside the door sadly. He had not meant to worry his brother, and he did not like to leave things badly between them, but maybe a little time would be good. He stared at the door dejectedly still. Maybe he should not have wished that something would distract him. It was true his headache was gone, but this was not going as well as he had hoped.

The door opened suddenly, and Philippe stood leaning against the doorframe. He sighed heavily. Raoul looked at him hopefully but kept his mouth shut.

"I'm glad you are well. Don't think that I'm not extremely relieved."

Raoul nodded.

"But, I'm tired, hungry, and tomorrow morning I'll have to leave again to finish what I had to leave behind. It'll probably take several weeks now." He sighed again, and when he spoke, his voice was strained. "Don't think I'm not glad you're well. I'm just still really angry with you right now for making me worry at all. I don't think I could talk to you anymore without physically harming you."

Philippe closed the door again gently this time.

It was Raoul's turn to sigh. He could not help the small smile though. Things would be okay, and when Philippe did finally talk to him, Raoul knew he would be mad once again that Raoul did not tell him sooner that he had run into the opera ghost.

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 6,032

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A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: How many more hints does Raoul need, huh? Erik's back to his old obsessed with Christine self. How long do you think that will last?

Thanks to you awesome reviewers!
Redluna – thanks for your support.
PuppetofDreams – I'm trying to be nice to Christine in this one. She'll be playing a bigger part later on. She can't always be the antagonist (but who else would be best…). You'll just have to wait and see.
Akaiba – Raoul and Erik usually have the best conversations.
HeadPhoneAngel – I don't know. If I wanted the human species to go out, that seems to be the bestest way ever. :o)
whatevergirl – Pinky swears don't get old. We know Erik wanted to do it just so he could touch Raoul. o
Sakurafox666 – Thanks for the feedback on Erik's eyes and the good review.
xdark.flowerx – That sentence did amuse me. I'm also hoping to manage to keep the light but dramatic tone since I don't want to go into the deep end again. At least not so soon.
Sora Kohaku – Well, Raoul finally has time to think about what had happened. Maybe he'll realize why Erik did that… eventually.
SlashmasterAeoniX – No need for sophisticated reviews. If they come, they come. Thanks for your review.