Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.
Summary: ErikRaoul slash.
Warning(s): slash (that's homosexual content for those of you who don't know)
Pairing(s): ErikRaoul
A/N: As promised, I am continuing this story. Of course I had to. So, the Time series is finished. No more stalling. Let me get some momentum in this story before you expect anything grand.
Story note: We finally get to see what's going to happen. Thanks for all those who have stuck with this story even though I've been absent. I had been thinking of abandoning it, but it looks like people still want to see what's going to happen to Raoul and Erik. So, if there are still readers, I'm still writing.
o.o.o.o
Imaginary Friends
Chapter 18 - Forbidden Fruit
o.o.o.o
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt
o.o.o.o
o.o.o.o
Last time: Erik attempts to save Raoul, but he fails (with the help of an anachronism). He's knocked unconscious. We find out the Comte is really a bastard not caring whether Raoul survives or not and the managers are not very happy with that particular plan. What's worse is that the Comte has grown an interest in Christine (which will eventually suck for Carlotta who will make it suck for the managers. Haha). Philippe has returned to find out that Raoul is in trouble. So, the drama continues.
o.o.o
Sitting behind his little brother's desk, Philippe fought down the urge to pace. The only reason he was still in the house and not out there looking for Raoul was because his butler had told, rather ordered, him to 'rest' until morning.
Rest? Like he could rest at a time like this. Raoul had actually been kidnapped again. Once again, he had not been able to protect his little brother even though he had sworn that Raoul would never have to go through that experience again. Luckily, his brother did not seem to remember that he had been kidnapped in the past. Picking up the white porcelain mask that was on the desk in front of him, Philippe wondered if it was lucky that Raoul did not remember.
Erik, the Devil's Child, was here. He was the opera ghost. Philippe had had his suspicions upon first hearing the rumours, but… but, Philippe did not know what he had hoped when they moved here and Raoul had become the patron. Had he been hoping that the opera ghost would be Erik? Had he been hoping that perhaps the rumours about the ghost would have changed Raoul somehow?
Philippe buried his face in his hands.
He loved his brother. Loved him dearly, and because they had been living with each other so long, Philippe had immediately noticed when Raoul's demeanor began to change. His brother had been growing increasingly restless, but instead of leaving the estate to relieve some of that stress, Raoul had confined himself to the estate and refused to speak with anyone but a few servants and Philippe. Even when Philippe asked him directly about what was occurring, Raoul would sigh and say that not only was nothing wrong but also that his demeanor had not changed. Frustrated with his responses, Philippe stopped asking, but he could not ignore his brother's constant depressing presence. It was as though he was becoming stagnant.
Instead of waiting for Raoul to finally realize something was wrong, Philippe drew his own conclusions. Raoul was old enough to be married or at least old enough to enjoy the company of others. Philippe wondered if he was frustrated on that account. However, Raoul's behaviour seemed contrary to such a conclusion. Most people would usually seek the company of others, not isolate themselves. Furthermore, if Raoul had been frustrated like that, Philippe would have had an easier time helping him.
No, it had not been physical. He simply had no idea what was going on through Raoul's head. He had been about to give up and hope that it was only a phase.
Philippe would have never told Raoul about the Opera Populaire if he had not heard Raoul humming. He did not think Raoul even realized he was humming. At first, Philippe had not recognized the melody. When he finally did recognize the tune, Philippe had locked himself in his own study and tried to erase the images from his mind. He had tried to ignore the overwhelming guilt he felt.
He knew he had destroyed Raoul's childhood. If only he had checked on Raoul before they left. If only he had not been so tired. If only he had been a better brother. Then, Raoul would have never been kidnapped, but that was not the only way that he had ruined Raoul's childhood. He should not have hesitated when he had seen Raoul being carried by the Devil's Child or when Raoul had struggled to reach him after the police had arrived. He should have helped the Devil's Child then. Instead, he had not moved when the officers roughly tackled the Devil's Child. No, not the Devil's Child. Erik.
That name had haunted him for years. After they left that cursed city with its carnival and the disfigured boy, Raoul had wailed for hours pleading to go back. No one would listen to him except for Philippe and Raoul realized that soon. Their parents were so relieved to have Raoul back, but they believed that Erik had indeed kidnapped Raoul. Philippe knew better. He remembered the look on Erik's face. He had seen the look of utter loss when he had released Raoul from his grasp. It was a look that said Philippe was taking everything away from him, and Philippe had a feeling that Erik did not have much of anything that he valued as much as he had valued Raoul.
Raoul eventually told him everything that had happened from the stuffed monkey and its cymbals to the monsters that had been outside the carriage to Erik's deformity. Philippe tried to tell his parents that the gypsy had been the real perpetrator but they insisted that Erik must have done it. Philippe never found out what happened to him after that. He had wanted to ask but he knew his parents did not want to think about it any longer so Philippe never brought it up again. They wanted to forget, and so did he. But Raoul, poor Raoul, refused to let go. Raoul could not understand why he could not keep his promise to Erik, and Philippe had not known how to explain it. Instead, he tried to comfort his brother the best way he could. He told Raoul to teach him one of Erik's lullabies, and every night, Philippe would sing for him.
Little Raoul had looked at him gratefully, but Philippe knew it was not the same. Raoul was never the same after that. Not long after, he had asked Philippe to stop singing it because it made him sad. Philippe had always guessed that his voice was simply ruining the memory of Erik's.
It got worse with his parents' death and Philippe knew he should have been paying more attention to Raoul during that time. It had just been so hard for him. There had been so much responsibility and desperation at the time. Philippe had barely been able to take care of himself.
Raoul had gone through a short period of throwing tantrums and being altogether uncooperative with them; however, all on his own, he seemed to get better, even if he forgot everything about the kidnapping or Erik, even if he forgot everything that had happened before their parents' deaths.
It was Raoul's way of coping and Raoul was resilient; moreso than Philippe thought himself to be. If Philippe heard Raoul talking to himself a few times, Philippe had only assumed that too was a phase. It had been because Raoul had grown up so fast after that. He did well in his studies, then in his business ventures. Raoul had seemed to have a promising future ahead of him. Then, suddenly, it was like he just stopped trying; and it eventually led to his seclusion.
Of all the things Philippe knew about his brother, he knew that at some level Raoul was still that little boy hoping to keep his pinky swear. So, when he had heard about the Opera Populaire and the rumours surrounding it, Philippe immediately told Raoul.
Who knew that things would turn out like this?
Not only was the opera ghost really Erik, but he also remembered Raoul. Too bad Raoul did not remember him according to his butler. Philippe did not know what to wish for them. He wanted to know what Erik expected from his brother. What if he was angry that he had been left behind and only sought to hurt him? Moreover, if Raoul remembered, would he want Erik to come with them when they left? Philippe himself had been inclined to invite the man to stay with them so that Raoul would have a companion, but Raoul was no longer a child. Philippe could not make such decisions. It was not a play date. The opera ghost was supposed to be a murderer, but according to his servants, Erik had gone to rescue Raoul.
Erik had gone and Philippe was left at the estate waiting impatiently. It was not fair. Philippe sighed. He should be the one out there.
It was true he was tired since he had spent the last few nights traveling just to get back and he had not slept during the last leg of the journey in hopes of getting here faster. He was tired and he knew his butler was right when he said that Philippe needed to rest, but how could he when his brother had been kidnapped.
He would wait though. The butler had made a good point earlier. If Erik was trying to sneak up on the kidnappers, Philippe might ruin the plan by showing up. Then the situation would only be exacerbated.
Philippe looked at the note that had been addressed to the opera ghost. The butler had told him everything he knew, but Philippe could not quite believe that the managers were indeed that stupid. He would make them pay for doing this to his brother. He would find a way to make the Comte pay as well.
Philippe had heard stories about the Comte Pierre de Montmartre that were not very flattering, stories he was inclined to believe now. It was not encouraging in the least. He hoped that his brother would be safe, and if he was not, then not only would they have to deal with Philippe, if the servants were correct in their assessment, the managers and the Comte would have to face a very angry opera ghost.
Staring at the window, Philippe knew it was several hours before dawn. First light, if Erik and Raoul had not returned by then, Philippe would go to that cemetery and bring them both back if necessary.
o.o.o
Raoul struggled under the opera ghost's weight.
This isn't working. Raoul asked for Erik's advice. He's surprisingly heavy.
Dead weight usually is. Erik replied.
Raoul frowned. He did not like thinking that the ghost could be dead. He had checked of course, and the men had said to watch over him; so it had to mean that the ghost was alive. Still, the ghost was surprisingly unresponsive. Even when Raoul discovered that the men had thrown him in without the mask. He had threatened the ghost to look at his face, even though he technically could not see it if he wanted to, but the ghost did not even move. It had been a little disturbing.
Just drag him back towards the door.
Raoul did as Erik had suggested. Luckily, it was not very far. He was holding the ghost beneath his arms. His face was pressed to the ghost's as he dragged him. The ghost was surprisingly warm. Raoul was not sure if it was the ghost's warmth or the fact that he was blushing. Clearing his throat and leaning away from the ghost, Raoul asked, What now?
What do you mean 'what now'? Erik thought it was obvious. You sit down and hold him.
Hold him? Raoul was dubious of that plan. It might be another hopping suggestion.
This is nothing like the hopping suggestion. Erik argued. This is to preserve body heat. The ghost'll probably get cold especially since he's unconscious.
Raoul could not really argue with that. It was the truth. The ghost's hands were already cold.
You held his hand? Erik asked.
Raoul narrowed his eyes even in the darkness. I was checking his reaction.
To you holding his hand? He laughed.
Don't be unnecessarily annoying, Erik.
Fine. But I stay firm in my suggestion that you hold him while he sleeps.
I really don't think that's the best plan. What if he wakes up?
Erik shrugged. Then, he'll thank you for saving his life.
Raoul almost laughed. I highly doubt that.
Stop protesting. You're cold. He's cold and you both need to be warm. What else do you need to know? The annoyance was clear in Erik's voice.
Frowning, Raoul gingerly sat down leaning against the door while trying to balance the ghost so that he did not fall.He dragged the ghost between his legs and pulled him high enough so that the ghost's back was against his chest and the ghost's head was resting on his shoulder.
Aww. Erik cooed.
Raoul rolled his eyes, but held the ghost tightly across his abdomen, where Raoul's hands rested. How is this supposed to keep him warm?
Aren't you warm?
Raoul did not think their position had anything to do with that. Actually, he thought it had everything to do with the warmth he was feeling, but only because of the intimacy he felt at it. His legs are on the floor.
Yes, but his entire top half is leaning against you, isn't it?
True. Too true in Raoul's opinion. It was distracting, but Raoul was not about to move away any time soon. He was tired just from moving the ghost that short distance and he was feeling much warmer. It was soothing, and it was making sleep sound very tempting. He yawned and in doing so brushed against the side of the ghost's face. Raoul looked away, blushing.He did not know how he was talked into these things. Erik simply had too much power over him, almost as though every argument Erik made always made so much sense.
Can I just sleep? Raoul asked. Erik had been warning against it earlier, but he was warmer now.
No sleeping.
He gets to sleep. Raoul argued.
He was knocked unconscious. When he wakes, we'll force him to stay awake as well. At least then, you'll have someone to talk to.
Raoul wondered why Erik was so intent on keeping him awake.
What if he wakes up when you're asleep? Erik asked reasonably. Then what, you hope he takes kindly to being cuddled?
No, but you could have just told me that earlier. At least that makes sense. Raoul held him closer when he felt the ghost sliding down. He added for good measure, And we're not cuddling.
Ignoring his last remark, Erik stated. You should listen to me regardless.
Hmph. Raoul wondered if holding the ghost was that good of an idea. He was supposed to be mad at him.
You are not mad at him. Erik pointed out.
Well, Raoul retorted, I'm supposed to be. He insulted me.
You insulted him.
It was only retaliation and you know I'm sorry about that. Raoul really did not know what had come over him. He had never lost his temper in such a large way before. Before Erik could respond, Raoul nodded, Yes, I know what you're going to say. It's because I 'trust' him.
Don't be so short with me. It's just when you're stubborn you refuse to talk things out, to admit things.
Raoul frowned. He was not that stubborn. If anyone was stubborn, it was Erik. I'm talking to you right now, aren't I?
I'm not talking about me. I'm talking about the ghost. There are many things you want to ask him and I want you to be able to ask him. Erik stated. Either way, I don't think you have any right to be mad at the ghost.
He kicked me out of the opera house. Raoul pointed out.
Erik laughed at him. I highly doubt that's how it happened. Look at the situation we're in currently.
Raoul tried to look through the darkness. He did not mind the fact he could not see very well; he did rather hate the fact that he was cold though. The ghost was trapped in here with him. It could not be him, unless it was all part of some master plan, but the bump that was forming on the ghost's head seemed all too real. It's the Comte, isn't it?
That's what I suspect, but considering we really don't have proof, there's no point in jumping to conclusions again. We know for certain that the ghost had nothing to do with it though.
Raoul nodded his head, once again rubbing the ghost's cheek.
I think you're doing that on purpose.
He tilted his head to one side in confusion and ended up leaning on the ghost's head. Doing what? Realizing his position, he pulled his head away. Raoul added immediately, Don't even say it. I'm not doing it on purpose. There's no way that I can't not touch him in this position.
Erik was silent for a moment. I wasn't even going to say anything.
Sullenly, Raoul replied. Liar.
He could not deny how nice it felt to hold him though. Maybe it was just because his body was craving the body heat, but Raoul had a feeling that if it had been someone else, he would not have been so at ease.
Do you wonder why? Erik asked.
Sometimes Raoul wanted to be able to think some thoughts that Erik would not be able to hear, but he knew that would be pointless. The best thing about Erik was that he did not need to put to words what he was feeling. It was because of that ability that Raoul did not need to respond for Erik to know that he was starting to believe that the ghost just might be the boy in the dream.
Erik stated firmly. It was almost a demand. We need to ask him when he wakes up.
How do you even begin to ask something like that? Raoul asked. It was odd just to think about it, a memory from a past he did not remember.
How about… do we know each other from when I was a child?
o.o.o
Christine could not believe it. She had heard rumors, started by Carlotta once again, that once Il Muto was done, she would go back to simply being a chorus girl. It was not that she was not grateful for the opportunity that the managers had given her, but she thought she had been doing well. The fans loved her, and the spotlight called to her. She did not know if she could just go back to being in the ballet corps.
She knew that much of her success was partly due to Raoul's presence as patron, but she thought there had been merit to his support. Now, she did not know – especially now that her angel had not spoken to her for so long.
"Christine," Meg slipped into her room.
Christine stood up from in front of her mirror. She could barely see herself since the top was covered with bouquets of roses, just none with a black ribbon on it.
"What is it?"
"How are you?" Meg pulled Christine towards her bed so that they both could sit.
Christine shrugged, "I'm well of course. Was the show not good?"
Meg scoffed. "Of course it was good. You don't seem well lately. I just wanted to know what the problem was."
Christine considered telling Meg her fears, "I…"
She was interrupted by a knock on her door. They shared a look before Christine got up to open the door.
"Uh, managers," Christine stood back from the door, "What a pleasant surprise."
"May we?" Andre asked before they entered the room.
Firmin cleared his throat. He said gruffly, "Comte Pierre de Montmartre this is Mademoiselle Christine Daae."
Christine offered her hand and the Comte bowed, kissing the back of her hand.
"And this is Mademoiselle Meg Giry."
The Comte greeted her similarly.
"This is a great pleasure," the Comte commented. "A great prima donna and the best ballet dancer friends. I must say that the dynamics of this opera house are indeed promising."
The Comte gave the managers a pointed look, but they refused to leave the room. They did not want anything unnecessary to occur. Firmin did not trust the Comte alone with the woman that started this whole fiasco.
When they did not leave, the Comte decided to focus his attention on Christine instead, "You were magnificent tonight."
"Thank you," Christine replied. She was just beginning to get used to hearing that. A slight blush still coloured her cheeks though. "I was taught well."
"Indeed," the Comte replied. "And yet it has taken this long for us to unearth such talent." He glanced at the managers.
Seeing an opening, Firmin tried to direct the Comte's attention away from Christine, "We could speak more about the business of the opera house." He was not going to make any promises regarding Christine's place in the upcoming operas, but to get the Comte away was necessary. The look in the man's eyes was giving Firmin a bad feeling about allowing this meeting. Christine seemed rather responsive to his approaches as well if that blush was any indication. The Comte was a man who obtained what he wanted – through any means if their dealings tonight were any indication, and he looked like he wanted Christine.
"I would ask you out for supper," the Comte knew what the managers were trying to do. He would play along for now. Business was exactly what he wanted to talk about, business regarding their prima donna, "but it appears I have business to attend to with the managers."
He kissed Christine's hand once more.
"I do so hope that we will be able to spend more time together though," he added.
Christine could only blush. His gaze was so intense. It was making her nervous.
Once they were alone in the room once more, Meg pulled Christine out of her daze. "Another patron, Christine!"
Christine shook her head. "What are you talking about?"
Meg hopped onto her bed leaning against the headboard, "First the Vicomte and now the Comte. What's next, a marquis?"
Christine sat beside Meg giggling. "I doubt a marquis would become the patron of the opera house."
"What do you think of him?" Meg whispered checking the door to make sure it was closed.
A closed door hardly ever indicated no one was listening, so Christine kept her voice down as well. She tried to be kind in her assessment, "I think he is handsome and…"
"And?"
"… intense."
Meg sighed, "Yes, he seems very passionate. And quite handsome. You're lucky."
"I don't know," Christine did not know if passionate would have been the feeling she had been trying to convey, "I do not like him like that."
"You said that about Raoul at first," Meg pointed out.
Meg wanted to be jealous of her best friend, but it was hard when Christine had been in the background for so long. Meg could not deny that Christine had a wonderful voice that was a shame to keep hidden. It was enchanting; so, it seemed inevitable that these men should fall in love with her. Meg once had dreams of falling in love with a Comte or Vicomte, but after being around Raoul, she was beginning to simply want someone as romantic and head over heels in love with her like he was with his fiancé. She knew Christine felt the same way.
"Raoul was engaged."
"Was?" Meg immediately noticed her wording.
Biting her lip, Christine did not know if she was allowed to tell anyone. She doubted Raoul would mind though. Meg had been with her through all the teasing that they had inflicted on him.
"That was why he missed the opera last night."
"Besides having given up being the patron?"
Christine nodded.
Meg considered this. Her mother had told her not to believe Carlotta when she spread rumors, but Carlotta was a very good source of information at times. They had gotten a new patron like she predicted after all. Meg was sad to see the Vicomte go since he was so amiable. This patron was different though. While the Vicomte was personable, the Comte seemed more charming, especially to Christine.
"The Comte seems very interested in you, too," Meg voiced aloud.
"Yes," Christine knew that was the problem. "I was glad the managers were there."
"They were watching him intently," Meg pointed out, "I think they were chaperoning the visit."
Giggling, Christine agreed. "It would not have been gentlemanly to meet me alone." She remembered Raoul's first visit. He had been rather forceful. She would miss him, and she wanted to do something for him before he left. If only she knew what she could possibly give him.
"Are you going to pursue him?" Meg asked.
"The Comte?"
"No, the Vicomte. Well, both maybe."
Christine laughed. "A lady would never pursue a man."
Meg gave her a look.
"I cannot see Raoul like that anymore. We will hopefully remain friends, but he's leaving Paris," Christine wistfully said, "It will be too easy to lose contact with him."
"True," Meg tried to be optimistic, "but perhaps you won't."
"And the Comte…" Christine struggled to put her feelings into words, "He seems suspicious."
"Suspicious?"
"Did you see the way he fawned over Carlotta during his introduction?" Christine asked. That had been the first reason she had been wary of him.
Meg thought about it. She had not really noticed it at first, but Christine was right. They had walked in together. In fact, her mother had said something about Carlotta having known him before. She frowned; her opinion of the Comte plummeted.
"Then the way he looks at you?" She shuddered exaggeratedly.
Christine giggled, "I'm not interested. Anyone who can fawn over Carlotta…"
"… is not a man I'd want paying attention to me," Meg finished her thought.
They giggled together.
"Then you'd better be cautious around the Comte," Meg advised.
o.o.o
Erik woke up slowly. Blood was pounding in his head, and he could not rightly remember where he was. He could barely think. It was dark and the air was cold; it could very well be his home. He had gone somewhere though. He was warm but whatever he was lying on was not very soft. He tried to move but his head protested at the movement. The room was spinning. Narrowing his eyes, he focused on the far wall. He found that he could not move without feeling as though he were tilting over.
When the room leveled and the pain in his head subsided, Erik finally remembered that he had been trying to free Raoul. Then, it was with sinking realization that he could feel Raoul's breath on his face. He struggled, as his body seemed to be on fire. Raoul's arms across his midsection made his stomach do flips. He could feel the rise and fall of Raoul's breathing, and his face was unbearably too close. He struggled to move.
It had not been long that they had been in this position before Erik started to stir. His movements were making him slip out of his embrace, so Raoul ended up holding him tighter.
"It would be best if you stopped moving," Raoul suggested.
As he spoke, Erik could not stifle a shiver. Raoul was too close.
"See," Raoul added firmly, "you're cold."
He isn't cold. Erik replied.
Raoul rolled his eyes. Then what is he?
"I will not remain in such a position." The ghost tried to move though his limbs felt so heavy.
Raoul shrugged, which Erik felt instead of saw. It was bad enough that he was leaning on Raoul, but because Raoul's arms were still stubbornly wrapped around him to keep him steady after his attempts to move, Erik was only pressed up against him tighter.
"Release me."
I guess you should do it. Erik suggested. I don't think he's going to stop struggling.
He's not well enough to move. I'm barely holding him and he's having problems freeing himself.
Raoul sensed Erik's mental shrug.
Fine, but know I'm against this idea.
Slowly, Raoul pulled his hands away. He did not want the ghost to fall, but it was not as he did not understand why the ghost wanted to move. It was an embarrassingly uncomfortable position. They had been fighting not long ago and now Raoul was holding the ghost. It was still awkward for Raoul and he'd had Erik in his mind telling him there was no other way. It was the only way to somehow survive through the cold night.
Raoul was feeling warmer, but whether that was due to his embarrassment or to the effectiveness of sharing their body heat, he was not certain.
The ghost tried to move again. Erik reached a hand out and felt the wall. He leaned against it and tried to push himself away from Raoul. However, he lost his balance. Catching himself, Erik put his other hand down, but instead of touching the floor, his hand landed on Raoul's thigh. Raoul felt his face flush. The ghost pulled his hand away as though he had been burned. However, the action made him lose his balance completely. He fell backwards heavily. He dropped against Raoul who tried to swallow his groan of pain.
Erik felt the blood rush downward even though he knew that groan was not sexual in any way. It sounded it and that was enough for his body to react.
Raoul's arm came up automatically to prevent the ghost from falling over even though he was still trying to understand his reaction from the ghost holding onto his thigh. He could hear Erik in his head laughing at him.
The ghost was torn. He could try to get up again and probably make it far enough to move away from Raoul or he could remain in this position. He did not know why this decision was so difficult. On the one hand, there was his pride as a man and then on the other hand, there was Raoul - not just Raoul though, Raoul holding him almost intimately.
Erik could not decide whether he was extremely lucky or not.
"I know this is rather uncomfortable," Raoul began.
The ghost snorted. That was an understatement.
"It was the only way I could think of that would preserve our body's warmth," Raoul tried to sound as convincing as Erik had been, but he knew that whatever the ghost chose would probably not depend on what he was saying. He seemed stubborn that way.
It did not take very long for him to decide. Erik was not going to move, but that did not mean that he was going to make it easy for Raoul. "You're cold."
It was a statement.
Raoul did not know what response the ghost wanted. "It's quite cold in here," he ventured to say.
It was cold. Erik had to admit, and he was accustomed to colder temperatures. If he was cold, he could just imagine what Raoul was feeling. He shifted his legs and felt a material move. Erik grabbed it and tried to see it through the darkness. His eyes were usually good in the dark but the material was dark and he could just barely make it out.
He scoffed when he realized what it was, "Of course, it is cold. You're not wearing your jacket."
"Oh," Raoul replied as though he had just remembered, "you were the one unconscious. You needed it more."
Erik threw it over his shoulder hitting Raoul in the face. That motion alone was enough to make him a little dizzy again. "You need it more."
Raoul frowned. He was cold and had initially grown colder when he removed his jacket, but the ghost was injured. He grabbed the jacket and spread it over Erik. "You wear it."
"No," Erik swatted Raoul's hands away.
In order to retaliate, Raoul had to press tighter against Erik to reach the jacket. His face pressed against Erik's who immediately dropped the jacket.
"I'm just putting it over both our legs," Raoul said trying to sound reasonable. He did not realize the effect he had on the ghost.
Erik held his breath. Raoul was rubbing against him, all because of an argument with a jacket. Erik suddenly had the absurd thought of loving that jacket.
When the ghost made no move to move the jacket, Raoul leaned back pulling the ghost with him. I won that battle. He commented to Erik triumphantly.
Yes, you did. Erik answered. He was clearly amused. He's doomed.
Doomed? Why? Raoul asked.
You'll figure it out one day.
When Erik could think again, he forced his body to relax. He told Raoul that it was alright for them to sit like this. The feeling was so foreign though. It felt like his nerve endings were on fire. He took a deep breath and tried to memorize this feeling.
He could not believe that he had an argument over a jacket with Raoul. There were more important things to worry about. He should be worrying about trying to find a way out of this mausoleum. If his search around the building from the outside were any indication though, there would be none but the front entrance.
Well, then he should be thinking about his next step if the guards were foolish enough to open the door. Now, if he could think properly without Raoul's distraction or the headache's distraction, then that would be better. As it were, he felt distinctly aware of the fact he could not move, as well as the fact that at this moment he did not want to.
Raoul clasped his hands together as they rested on the ghost's stomach; the ghost started at the movement but did not try to brush him off again.
Things will work out. Erik said.
Raoul was beginning to think that they would as well. He wanted to talk to the ghost, but the ghost seemed preoccupied, not to mention in pain. We can wait.
In his mind, he heard Erik sigh. I guess we can.
As for now, they could not do anything but wait.
o.o.o
Carlotta was heading to her room when voices caught her attention. Hiding from sight, she peeked around the corner just in time to see the Comte and managers leaving Christine's room.
Gasping, she was quick to note the smirk and interest in the Comte's expression. She had seen that look in the past. The Comte had it whenever he saw a chorus girl he was interested in. Carlotta had not been blind to his infidelities to their unofficial relationship. It was to be expected and she did not care what ballet rat the man decided to try to woo.
She would however put her foot down when that interest was turned to a rival for the stage. She stifled her scream into her hands. This was the worst thing that could have happened. Once the Comte was interested in someone, he would go to great lengths to get what he wanted. That included ignoring previous agreements. He would act quickly too. The Comte did not wait for events to occur; he made them occur.
Carlotta realized that she had gotten rid of the Vicomte only to be in the same situation with the Comte. She had been certain that this plan would work. She was certain that unless she acted, she would lose her position as prima donna. Christine would once again be taking her roles. If only Christine was not in the way, then she would never have to worry about such things. She paused at the idea. That sounded like a good plan. First, she would have to teach the Comte a lesson.
Betrayal was easy. The Comte simply thought too highly of himself. He had yet to fail in any conquest, but Carlotta could arrange for things to go the other way. She rushed to her room and pulled out a sheet of paper.
Pulling out the note she had received when Christine had been first kidnapped, she copied the handwriting to the best of her ability. It was difficult but she wanted this to be perfect.
Dear Managers
I am quite disappointed you have not consulted me regarding this new patron. I have my doubts of his ability to conduct business well. I expect a detailed report of his past dealings in Box 5 by tomorrow.
Your most humble servant,
OG
Though it did not have the skull seal, it would be enough to convince the managers as well as the Comte that not everything was going according to their plan. Now, she had to think of a way to get rid of Christine.
o.o.o
An uncomfortable silence had descended after their argument over the jacket. Erik had not minded very much. He had a lot to think about, but before he knew it, he had been lulled to sleep by the steady rise and fall of Raoul's breathing. He had never felt more relaxed in his life even though he was trapped in a mausoleum. It was more than just Raoul's breathing; it was Raoul's very presence. Erik had let that knowledge pull him into slumber.
Erik had to admit that it was more comfortable than he was willing to let on. It was better than the alternative of freezing in the cold and at least Erik had someplace soft to lean his head. In fact, Erik knew he was enjoying their position a little too much. He was all too aware of Raoul, particularly his body, and he had found that if he leaned his head back just so, Raoul's cheek would brush his at times. It was distracting to say the least.
However, something had woken him and he did not know what it had been.
Then he heard it. A soft rumbling. Erik scoffed. Raoul was asleep and snoring. His head was bent forward, leaning against Erik's. Erik could not help pressing against the contact. Raoul mumbled and held him tighter.
Erik looked around the room afraid that someone had seen him enjoy the touch. There was no one of course, but the sky had lightened and the mausoleum was not as dark as it had once been thanks to the window that he had not seen last night. It was not quite sunlight, but the brightness indicated that the sun would soon rise. Though he was loathe to do so, he held Raoul's hands, pulling them away before he pushed himself away from Raoul's warmth. Raoul frowned and tried to follow him, but Erik pressed him back. He took the jacket and placed it over Raoul, who settled down.
The room was not spinning, so that was a good sign. Erik reached up and felt several bandages covering his deformity. He had not thought to check if it were still on, though from the feeling alone he knew he should have realized. The bandaging had not been done very well, but it covered his deformity well enough.
"You hadn't wanted me to see it, right?" Raoul watched the ghost check the bandages.
Erik started. He had been convinced that Raoul had fallen back asleep.
Raoul stood up and stretched his neck. It was only then did Erik notice the tears in his shirt and the bloodstains all over Raoul's clothes. It did not seem like Erik had bled that much. He looked more closely at Raoul's face and saw a new bruise forming. There was some slight swelling but nothing terrible, though Erik's definition of terrible was different.
Seeing Erik staring at the blood, Raoul pulled the jacket on and tried to cover the state of his shirt.
Erik tried to hide his grin. "If you continue in such a manner, you'll be completely naked," he motioned to Raoul's tattered shirt.
Raoul looked down and noticed that much of his stomach was showing. He pulled the jacket tightly closed. "You were moaning in your sleep. I found some blood on your head." Raoul had almost had a panic attack when he had found the blood. He had barely been able to maneuver the ghost away far enough to tear strips from his shirt. Surprisingly, the ghost had not woken. It had worried him.
He was exhausted. Erik commented.
Raoul allowed himself to be appeased by Erik's words.
"You needed some bandages and a makeshift mask," He turned around to button the jacket which did not seem to be cooperating with him. When it was finally closed, Raoul turned around, "Are you feeling well?"
"As well as can be expected," Erik replied before asking, "Did they hit you?" He barely was able to restrain his anger. Those men just moved up the list of who Erik would kill.
Raoul shrugged. "I've been hit worst."
He grinned at Erik who wondered how Raoul could smile at him so easily. He was ultimately reminded of Raoul as a child offering him the world with his smiles, laughter, and affection.
Raoul tried not to wonder why he felt at ease whenever he was with the ghost. It was much too confusing. He sat back down and winced when he leaned against his shoulder. At Erik's curious gaze, he commented, "Perhaps ramming the door multiple times had not been a good idea."
Erik nodded. He remembered the night before. Raoul's banging had distracted the kidnappers. The two moved up higher on the list of people to die first, "Perhaps. What hurts?"
"Just my shoulders."
"Shoulders? Both?"
Raoul shrugged and winced. "The doors are quite strong. I wouldn't suggest trying to break it down."
Raoul felt a little disconcerted by his gaze, but he would not be deterred. He met the ghost's gaze defiantly and asked, "Why did you come? How did you find me?"
The ghost's gaze was intimidating even with half his face covered. Raoul had left out the part where he had not been able to control himself. Even though he had not been able to see properly, he had felt the ghost's deformity. Raoul desperately wanted to see it now, but he was fairly certain such an intrusion would only anger the ghost further. There was some excitement though when he finally admitted that the deformity had to be the same as the boy's he saw in his dream. Erik had agreed. They unfortunately could not seem to agree on what that meant. Erik was certain that it meant they had discovered the origin of the voice while Raoul was reluctant to jump to such a conclusion. They had argued for a while.
It's because I'm right.
Raoul gave no outward reaction though it was impossible not to have heard him.
Erik considered lying to Raoul. How exactly would he explain what had happened at his estate? However, lying was probably considered some sort of betrayal. He could tell as much truth as he could, "Someone left an anonymous note at your estate giving your location and situation."
Raoul looked at him in confusion. "Why were you at my estate?"
Erik completely forgot that needed an excuse as well. "I simply was."
Raoul frowned when he could not help but think the ghost sounded like Erik.
I wonder why, Erik replied.
Yes, Raoul said sarcastically. I do hope you tell me why.
Well, since you asked so nicely, Erik shared, I sound like the opera ghost. I speak like the opera ghost. Hell, I even have a deformity like the opera ghost. I wonder what that could possibly mean.
Raoul tried to ignore him. They had gone over all the reasons why Erik could and could not be the ghost, and while Erik had swayed Raoul's opinion to 'possibly', he was still hesitant to believe that the ghost could be Erik.
There's only one way to find out. Erik said.
Unfortunately, that had been their solution to the problem. Raoul would have to ask him.
Erik saw that familiar expression on Raoul's face. Logically, he knew that Raoul did not have a fiancé. The servants had told him as much. He found that he actually believed them. They had trusted him to retrieve Raoul; too bad, he had failed.
To pull Raoul away from whomever he was thinking about, Erik elaborated, "I came for my mask."
Raoul's eyes focused on him before he processed what the ghost had said. He turned away sheepishly. "I apologize for that night. I said things I hadn't meant."
Erik turned away this time. He realized that he had been staring at Raoul for the past few minutes. He stated tersely, "I've found that in the heat of the moment, our true feelings come out."
Raoul shook his head furiously and scrambled to his feet immediately responding, "That's not always true." He moved so that he stood in front of Erik and forced them to meet eyes, "I was angry and only sought to incur the greatest harm."
"I am a monster. Even you would not be able to look at me." Erik wondered if that was true. Raoul had looked upon him before.
Raoul huffed and tried not to say he did want to see, "Looks don't make a monster or a man. It's our actions and you came here to save me, didn't you?"
Erik could do nothing but stare at Raoul. He was standing with his hands on his hips, and he had a determined expression on his face. He could almost see the conviction from simply his stance.
Raoul was adamant about this. He meant every word from his mouth.
It made Erik want to smile.
Erik now knew that Raoul had been lying to Christine rather consistently since there was no fiancé. Having Raoul speak to him as such though, he did not know why he had not realized that they had all been lies. Perhaps he had just wanted Raoul to be telling the truth because then he would have more reasons to push Raoul away, to be mad at him because Erik's confusion had been more difficult to confront than avoidance. If he thought back now, Raoul was a horrible liar. He did not have this intense gaze and focus. There was an earnestness that he exuded. He realized now that Raoul would not meet the person's eyes when he lied. Raoul had always met his eyes when they spoke.
Erik nodded slowly and Raoul seemed to be appeased. The Vicomte leaned against the door. It was obvious that he was tired. Erik wondered how much sleep the Vicomte had actually gotten.
When Raoul's stomach growled loudly, he grinned sheepishly at Erik.
Erik suddenly felt hungry as well. He had not eaten in a while. He had been rather preoccupied.
"Oh." Raoul suddenly exclaimed. He was grinning madly and Erik watched as he searched through his jacket before producing two apples from an inner pocket.
Raoul tried to clean them with his sleeve. He offered the larger one to Erik. "It's a little bruised," Raoul eyed the apple. It was badly bruised actually. "I'm sure I fell on it a couple of times last night," he explained, "but I'm sure they're still good."
Erik stared at the proffered fruit and reached to take the other fruit. Raoul pulled away before Erik could get it.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm picking the fruit I want."
Raoul held it behind his back. "No, take this one."
Erik eyed the fruit. Raoul should get the larger of the two. "No. I want the other one."
Why are you arguing like children? Erik asked.
Raoul ignored him and pushed the apple into Erik's hands. "Well, I want the other one, too."
Erik refused to grab the apple. Instead, he grabbed Raoul's wrist and pulled him forward. Not expecting the action, Raoul ran right into Erik who placed his hands on his hips to steady Raoul.
Raoul could feel himself blushing. He jumped backwards.
Erik had not actually expected that much contact either, but he was not one to complain.
Feeling awkward, Raoul sought to end their argument quickly. He challenged the ghost with his eyes as he quickly took a bite out of the smaller apple. He chewed and swallowed quickly.
"I've bitten it now," he stated triumphantly holding the fruit up so Erik could see it, "now you have to take the other one."
Erik looked at the missing piece of apple. Raoul's lips had been on that fruit. Grabbing Raoul's wrist again, he tilted his head and bit the apple right where Raoul had.
Whoa.
Raoul took in a shaky breath and was transfixed with the movement of the ghost's lips as he chewed the piece of apple. A bit of the juice trailed down the side of his mouth and Raoul just stared at it, feeling the sudden urge to wipe it away for him. He did not realize the ghost was still holding his wrist until the ghost leaned forward and licked up a trail of juice that had gone down his hand.
Pulling his hand away quickly, Raoul gave Erik the apple. He laughed nervously saying, "You win. You can have the apple." Raoul could not meet his eyes, but he could feel the ghost watching him. To hide his blush, he walked across the mausoleum.
Whoa.
Raoul made sure he was hiding his face from the ghost. Yes. Whoa. His heart was racing. He stared at his hand. The ghost's tongue had felt hot against his skin. Oh God, the ghost licked me.
I'm good, Erik chimed in.
You? Don't start calling yourself him just yet. Raoul retorted. His heart was not calming down. Would you do that?
There was a pause before Erik responded, Yes. I would absolutely have done that.
Raoul shook his head. He needed to calm down.
You need to ask him who he is. Do it now! Erik insisted. Raoul could tell that he was extremely excited.
Raoul glanced over to where the ghost stood eating his apple a little too smugly. He looked away when he felt himself blushing again. I will. You just need to give me a moment.
The room was brightening, but it still seemed like the sun had not breached the horizon if Erik was correct. He glanced over to where Raoul stood then to his apple. He smirked. He did not know what had possessed him to be so bold, but he had not really been thinking. Erik assumed it was only because of the odd night they had spent together.
Their first night together had not exactly gone as he had imagined it to. He was supposed to be the one that held Raoul, but the reverse had not been so bad. It had been more than anything Erik had ever tried to hope for, and that was perhaps what had given him so much incentive to be bold once more. Raoul had not gotten angry with him. The blush had been endearing, as well as the fact that he had become so flustered.
Erik did not know if there was an apple in the world that tasted this sweet.
Seeing that Raoul was preoccupied ignoring him, Erik focused on that window. It was high, too high for him to reach himself, but it might be wide enough for either of them to fit through.
One of them could go through the window and try to take on the guards. Erik did not like that idea. He had not been able to beat their kidnappers last night. He did not think that trying in the morning would be any better. Unless he helped Raoul out of the window so that he could just run away. Erik would not be able to protect him, but then again, he could not leave Raoul alone again. So, getting Raoul to leave would have to be the best plan. Raoul would be safe and he could go find help.
Erik leaned his ear against the door hoping to hear what their guards were doing. He could not hear anything. At least the window was at the side of the mausoleum. They might be able to pull this off since he hoped they were hopefully still sleeping.
He approached Raoul.
Ask him already.
Raoul frowned. He stared at the uneaten apple in his hands. He had lost his appetite, especially since Erik would not stop pestering him. Taking a deep breath, he turned around and practically jumped backwards when the ghost was right there. He had not heard the man approach.
Ask him.
"Uh," Raoul opened his mouth.
The ghost looked at him oddly. Erik wondered why Raoul was being so jumpy. Then again, he had licked the blonde not a few seconds ago. He smirked. Erik was going to ask if Raoul was alright when the blonde finally blurted out.
"Do I know you?"
o.o.o.o
End Chapter 18
Word count: 8,745
o.o.o.o
o.o.o.o.o.o
o.o.o.o
A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!
Chapter review: Uh, a lot happened. I liked the apple scene because I could see them bickering over the smallest things, since they're both so stubborn. Damn UST. Raoul finally asked the big question, but will he remember even if Erik tells him.
Author review: I hope it's not too bad. I had to reread it and rewrite this several times and I still don't think I'm completely immersed into the IF universe just yet. I would have done a religious reference in the end, but I decided against it. Oh, btw, it's the hardest thing in the world to have both imaginary!Erik and Erik in the same scene. It's impossible!