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)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Author Note: Sorry for the delay, but considering the year hiatus, I think an extra day shouldn't be that bad of a wait. After all, this chapter is so action packed that you should forgive me immediately.

Story Note: This chapter diverged from what I had originally planned. It's odd because it was all outlined and then when I was writing it, the characters decided to make their own choices. That's why it took a little more time. After the last chapter, this one has a completely different tone.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 19 – Who to trust

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Erik and Raoul have petty fights and Raoul finally asks the big question. Christine and Meg come to the conclusion that the Comte is not a very good person. Philippe is about to have a conniption because he's stuck at home while Raoul has been kidnapped. The Comte de Montmartre shows interest in Christine. Carlotta sees that interest and knows the Comte well enough to know that she should knock him off his high horse. (A lot happened.)

o.o.o

It was already in the wee hours before sunrise and fatigue was finally settling in. One of the kidnappers paced around the dying fire that had kept him company all through the night. Walking was the only reason he was still awake. Guard duty was so boring. He would have rather gone with his partner to meet with the Comte, but he had been ordered to stay. It was not like the Vicomte or the ghost would be able to leave anyway.

But, he and his partner always worked better when his partner called the shots. He could admit that he was not as levelheaded as his partner was. So, stay he did. He did not have to like it though. It was cold. It was dark, and though they had caught the opera ghost, he did not have a good feeling about staying there. It was a cemetery after all. So, he stared at the mausoleum that held the prisoners with a gun in each hand. They were loaded and ready.

He wondered when his partner would be returning. It was almost morning and he did not know what they were supposed to do next. The only orders he had been given were to watch the mausoleum. He did not like not knowing what was to happen next. He definitely should have been the one to bring the mask of the opera ghost to the Comte. He could have handled that better than just waiting.

Every little sound frightened him. His head whipped left and right. Though the skies were quite cloudy, no more snow had fallen and the wind had died down. He was glad for it since the wailing of the wind had made him anxious. The ghost's face remained in his mind no matter how much he fought to ignore it. The unmasking had been horrible. They had not expected to see anything as they removed the mask, but what lay beneath it should never be shown to any human being. He had been the unfortunate one to remove the mask and upon seeing the man's face, he had thrown the mask away from him. That mask had touched that monstrosity. Maybe it was best that he remained here, just thinking about making that long ride out of the city with that mask just to reach the Comte seemed impossible.

o.o.o

Instead of returning home after his late night meeting with the managers, the Comte set out for the secret rendezvous point. The location was some distance outside of the city in a small forest; it was almost sunrise when he finally arrived.

Dismounting by the boulder that indicated their meeting place, the Comte looked around suspiciously. No one was visible. He opened his mouth to call out when a voice startled him. He spun around to make sure he kept an eye on the man.

"Comte," the kidnapper called as he walked from behind the boulder, "you're late."

Instead of replying to his accusation, the Comte asked, "Is it done?"

He barely caught the mask when the kidnapper threw it at him. The Comte stared at the porcelain mask in his hands. Incredible. He had never seen the supposed ghost, but the craftsmanship for the mask was amazing. It was obvious that the Vicomte had put much thought into this ruse of his. The idea was brilliant though. It was not his style, but the Comte rather liked the subtle manipulation that the Vicomte had employed in the Opera Populaire. He almost felt bad about what he was going to do to him.

"And the money?" The kidnapper asked when he saw that the Comte was not going to offer it.

Pierre looked at the man in disdain. He strode over to his horse and untied a bag that hung in the back of the saddle. Throwing it onto the ground in front of the kidnapper, he snapped, "Count it if you must, but that's all of it."

"All of it?" The kidnapper was not sure he heard correctly. There was still the matter of disposal of the Vicomte and his accomplice.

While he had been waiting for the Comte to appear, he had been wondering if he should inform his employer that the man had truly been deformed. The sight had disgusted both him and his colleague. Holding that mask had been a trial unto itself. He was actually glad to be rid of it finally, but now that it was done and he had his money, he did not want to linger and find out how the ghost would react to his unmasking. He was starting to believe those stories that he had heard. Though not a ghost, he could not help but believe that the man was probably a murderer.

Whatever connection that ghost and the Vicomte had was not what the Comte had in mind. The kidnapper was of the opinion that they had simply struck up some deal that the managers had not been privy to. It was the only thing that made sense. The scale of the ruse that the Comte and managers accused the Vicomte of, from the accidents before he became patron to finding a disfigured man to play the ghost, would have beyond the Vicomte's scope. He would not be surprised if the Vicomte ended up dead before the night was through when the ghost woke up.

It was ultimately none of his concern though. Now that he had his money, he did not have to worry about those things. The Comte would simply have to find out for himself.

"What of the Vicomte and ghost?"

Pierre thought about it for a moment. "Kill them."

The kidnapper smirked. Of course, the Comte would want them dead. He had dealt with the man before and this kidnapping business was not quite his style. The Comte had never been so arrogant as to give him the money beforehand though. Right now, killing the ghost and the Vicomte seemed to be the best course of action, but that required having to see that monster's face again. He was reluctant to submit himself to that horror again. He could not just release the ghost. The man would surely go after him. However, the kidnapper tried to hide his grin. He could disappear. He could charge the Comte more money, take it, and then simply leave. Maybe the ghost would be kind enough to kill the Comte for him.

"That's an extra charge," he told the Comte, trying to seem unconcerned.

Pierre nodded. He had known from past experiences that it would be, "I already included it in there." He indicated the bag.

"Already?" That was another mistake on the Comte's part.

"If they ever bother me again," the Comte threatened, "I will find you and kill you myself." His whole demeanor changed from threatening to joking, "Don't worry though. I'm sure you'll be able to kill them easily."

The kidnapper was suddenly unsure whether he could hide from the man. He was not usually easily intimidated because he had seen and done things that most of the elite that employed him could not even fathom. Unfortunately, the Comte Pierre de Montmartre was not part of that group. The kidnapper had seen firsthand how vicious the Comte could be. It was not that he could not perform the tasks that the kidnapper was performing for him; it was just that the man had to keep up appearances. The kind of man that could hide his true nature was someone not to be taken lightly.

"I will."

The Comte had turned around to leave before the kidnapper had even replied. "We'll not speak again after this. Deal with them and make it look good."

The kidnapper nodded his head mutely. He waited for the man to finally leave before he calmed down enough to retrieve his own horse. He did not know what path he would choose right now, but the money felt good to be in his hands finally. He only killed for money; he tried not to do so unnecessarily. It was only for the sake of survival. But if he had the money already, did he really have to kill the ghost and Vicomte?

o.o.o

"Do I know you?"

Very eloquent.

Raoul let out an exasperated sigh. Admittedly, it was not that eloquent. "That's not what I mean. Well, that is what I mean, but…"

Erik's smirk disappeared. He stared at Raoul with his mouth open; he actually did not know what to say.

He knew exactly what Raoul was trying to ask though. In fact, he had been waiting for this moment ever since Raoul had become the patron. He had wanted to reveal himself to the Vicomte, but that had not been the plan in the beginning. The plan had been to stay away from him and now it simply felt awkward to be confronted by Raoul like this. Now would be the perfect time to tell Raoul that he was the Devil's child from his past.

Too bad something was wrong though.

He should have been happy. Hell, he should have been overjoyed that Raoul was finally asking him this question. But he was not. He immediately knew that this was not the time to tell Raoul.

The timing was terrible. The sun was going to rise soon. If they wanted to escape, now would be the perfect time to get Raoul to make a run for it. Any later and it would simply be too dangerous.

That was not just it though. He wished that were it.

Erik had not wanted Raoul just to ask the question. He had wanted Raoul to remember him. The expression in his face however, was easy to read. The Vicomte did not remember who he was. As much as this was a step in the right direction, now was not the time to go into it. He would have time later when Raoul was safe. Any distractions could be fatal.

So, he brushed the question aside. "I'm the opera ghost," he stated evenly.

I don't think he understood your carefully worded question.

Raoul frowned. You're not particularly helping very much here either and if this man in front of me right now is supposed to be you, shouldn't you be helping me?

"I know you're the opera ghost," Raoul stated, "Do I know you from before…?" Raoul did not know how exactly he wanted to finish that sentence. Before my parents died? Before I lost my memory? Before when your voice was simply too strong to ignore? And it was Erik's voice he was hearing. Erik's and the ghost's.

How can you deny it any longer? Erik asked. You can admit our voices are the same.

Close to the same, Raoul corrected. It was not exactly the same, but so close Raoul was almost desperate to hear the man sing just to know whether that would match too. Raoul had asked himself through the years whether he had simply made up the lullabies himself and the voice that went along with it. After all, no one's voice could be that perfect. No one he had ever heard in his life ever came close to the caliber of Erik's singing voice.

You said Christine was close.

Raoul knew he had thought that, but he did not comment because he knew…

And you know who her tutor is.

… he knew that Erik would bring that up. He had never heard the ghost sing though.

Why not just ask him?

Raoul wondered why the ghost was not answering him. It was a simple yes/no question. Either the ghost knew him from before or he did not.

Erik was forced to look away from Raoul. The boy honestly did not know. He wanted to scream in frustration. It was not fair. How exactly do you go about revealing a past that another person apparently didn't remember? Would Raoul ask more questions? Would Raoul even believe him? Erik thought it should be obvious that Raoul would believe him simply because he was the one that asked. It would be stupid if Raoul asked the question and then refused to believe him. However, that was what he feared.

To the Raoul of this moment, Erik was simply the opera ghost. Anything else was just conjecture.

And Erik was a little afraid of sharing precious memories to the Vicomte when it could be refused. He did not want him not to understand just how important that day was to him. What if it were belittled?

And suddenly, Erik was angry. How stupid did Raoul have to be to ask this question right now? They were trapped in a mausoleum because the Vicomte took a carriage ride offered from the man who apparently ousted the Vicomte from his position. It was freezing cold and his head was still pounding.

Then, there was the anger that came from the fact that Raoul still did not remember him. The anger from Raoul having to ask the question at all. It was not fair that he had spent all his years just remembering that single day, clinging onto memories when Raoul just went through life easily. He scoffed when he remembered Raoul's sentiment, sing so that you won't be forgotten.

He scoffed derisively at Raoul, "This is why you're still trapped in here. What are you thinking about?"

Raoul physically recoiled. He had not expected such a harsh response. He remembered the angered expression from their previous fight. The ghost stalked a few paces away from him.

Maybe I asked too abruptly. Raoul looked at the ghost's back forlornly.

Maybe you asked at all, Erik amended wryly. He's just flustered.

Flustered? Raoul asked. You must be mistaken. The ghost doesn't get flustered.

Because it's against 'opera ghost' laws?

Don't be smart with me, Erik. Maybe he really does have a point. We're stuck here and all we can think about is my past. We should be focused on the present.

He could feel Erik's mental shrug.

"I…" Raoul was about to apologize when the ghost cut him off sharply.

"I already have a plan so all you need to do is listen," Erik refused to turn around to face the Vicomte. A part of him knew he was being unreasonably irritated right now. He reached a hand to his bandaged face. Raoul had been kind. Kind but infuriatingly forgetful. Maybe without this face he could have been remembered. Maybe he would have even followed Raoul after they had parted those years ago.

Raoul nodded silently. The man's voice held so much authority. Either way, Raoul did not want to upset him anymore than he had already.

Where did all that confrontational energy go? Erik asked, disappointed at the turn of events.

Raoul did not know. Seeing the ghost turn away from him with his hand to his face somehow struck a chord in him. He suddenly felt overwhelmingly guilty, like he had somehow hurt the ghost. The emotion was eating him up inside and he simply did not understand what was wrong. He had to fight tears from falling. All he wanted to do at the moment was run up to the man and just hug him.

He blushed at the thought. What was he thinking? Yet, there was nothing sexual in the hug when he thought about it. It could not be sexual when all he felt was guilt. Raoul shook his head trying to shake the feeling away.

He was not sure if he should prompt the ghost to share the plan or if he would only become more angered by Raoul's voice.

"There's a window over there," Erik pointed out. His voice was still strained. He still refused to look back at him, "I can lift you up and you can get out of this mausoleum. We need the cover darkness so we need to do this now."

Raoul stared at him. The words were not getting through. They did not make sense. Nothing made sense at all right now; his thoughts, the ghost's words, they jumbled together.

Raoul. Focus.

There's something I can't remember. Raoul stared at the ghost. I want him to turn around. He's supposed to walk to me.

Erik faltered at hearing that last statement. Ignoring it for the moment, he tried to get Raoul to focus again. Did you hear the plan at all?

When he received no response, Erik ordered. Tell him it's a stupid plan. Now's not the time to be a martyr.

"It's a stupid plan," Raoul parroted. It lacked the conviction that it normally would have had.

Raoul. Erik knew that the ghost was right. They should get out of the mausoleum before something irreversible happened. Raoul's memories would have to wait. Pay attention.

Raoul shook his head. Something's wrong. There's something right there. I can almost see it. Hell, I feel it.

That's not important right now.

How is my past not important when it's standing right in front of me? Raoul shouted in his head.

Erik shouted back, That's not your past. That's your present and your future, but you're ruining it. I understand you want to know, but right now, the ghost is right. We need to focus on the present right now.

Raoul did not know what to think. Weren't you the one that said to confront him?

I also want us to be able to see tomorrow, Erik reasoned, and I don't think that today will go well if we don't leave this mausoleum and take the ghost with us.

Why wouldn't we take the ghost with us? Raoul asked, truly confused.

Apparently, you didn't hear the plan at all. Erik said exasperatedly. He wants you to leave through the window and leave him here to get help.

What? What if the kidnapper opens the door and finds me gone! That's too dangerous.

Yeah, no kidding. Erik quipped.

The ghost had turned sideways so that only his non-marred side of his face showed. He had watched Raoul's far off expression in anger. The boy was thinking of someone else even when they were in such a situation.

Erik was now more reluctant to tell Raoul about their past. "You need to get out of here. That's non-negotiable."

"I'm sorry," Raoul shook his head.

Erik's heart skipped a beat. The words made him step away from Raoul. They were too familiar in their tone. He could almost swear he saw tears in Raoul's eyes, but that had to be his imagination.

"I have to disagree," Raoul took a step towards him, "We need to get out of here."

Erik refused to let Raoul do this. His safety was the only thing that was important. "I don't matter."

"You matter enough to me," Raoul replied immediately, and when the words left his mouth, he knew that for some reason they were completely true. It was not just because the man had come to save him. It was not because Raoul did not think he could just let someone die. It was because…

I'm him. Why else?

Raoul ignored Erik. I don't know why okay.

"I promise you that we'll both be able to leave this place," Raoul stated with absolute conviction.

He expected the ghost to argue some more, but the ghost simply stared at him. Erik could not believe what Raoul had just said. His heart had leaped into his throat at the words. He hated to think that Raoul did not know what he was doing to him, but it made sense in a way. Raoul had not changed. He may not remember him, but somewhere in Raoul, there was that time they spent together.

Erik had broken that same promise before. He was being given a second chance and he would not break it now.

"I don't know how else we can do this," Erik admitted.

I have an idea.

o.o.o

That was it. Philippe slammed his hands down on the desk in frustration. He could not wait any longer. The worry was eating away at him. Picking up his pistol, he strode across the room and attached his sword at his waist. He had enough of waiting. It was almost morning and Erik and his brother had yet to return.

Leaving the house, the silence only grated on his nerves even more. It should not be this quiet. His return should not have ended up like this. Raoul should be in the house with him. He should be sleeping in his room after having shared a drink or two with him.

He had grabbed the reins of his horse when the butler came out of the house.

"Don't try to stop me," Philippe stated, mounting the horse. "I shouldn't have waited this long at all."

The butler nodded. Arguing would simply be pointless. He opened his mouth to suggest something when Philippe cut him off again.

"If they are heading home, then I'll pass them on my way there."

The butler once again opened his mouth to comment.

"It cannot hurt to go now. Whatever has happened will have happened to Erik's plan."

"I understand, Comte," the butler finally cut him off. "I was simply going to suggest bringing at least another horse for them just in case something has happened to the other one."

Philippe stared at him for a second. The stablehand walked over and tied the second horse's reins to Philippe's horse.

"Oh," Philippe could feel himself blushing. He should have thought of that. "Thanks." He looked at his butler's worried expression. "Be prepared when I come home."

The butler nodded. "Are you bringing back…?" He let the question trail off.

Philippe's grim expression did not change. "I'm bringing them both back." He had thought about it for hours. He could not force the man, but he would offer his home to the opera ghost. It was the least he could do since the man had actually protected Raoul twice in his life. Philippe had left him behind once. He was not willing to do it a second time.

"Be safe," the butler said as Philippe rode off towards the cemetery.

o.o.o

Firmin and Andre entered their opera house early in the morning so that they could talk about some of the new changes to their agreement the Comte had decided upon yesterday. Andre was still half-asleep. Firmin looked as though he had not slept at all.

Their minds were preoccupied. Things were steadily getting out of control. This had not how they had expected things to turn out at all. They had presumably solved one problem. The Vicomte was gone and with him, hopefully the opera ghost as well. The accident-free opera the night before was hopefully the start of a new era of the Opera Populaire led by the Comte de Montmartre.

However, that was also the problem, the Comte. There were going to be many problems if the Comte became too interested in Christine. Carlotta would simply not stand for it. Surely, they would be able to think of something to dissuade the Comte or at least they would tell Christine to make herself scarce and not mingle with him.

"Can you believe our luck?" Andre finally broke the silence as they walked up the stairs to their office, "The new patron interested in the same girl as the old patron."

"Horrid luck indeed." Firmin responded. He looked around making sure that no one was around. The appearance of being alone meant little to him now though. He could not see the harm in this conversation as long as the Comte was not in the opera house though. The man was apparently out obtaining his proof that the ghost was gone.

"There is something about that girl. Perhaps the only way is to be rid of her," Andre suggested.

Firmin shook his head, "She brings in much income. We cannot do such a thing."

"I know," Andre opened the door to their office. "What are we…?"

A note was on the floor.

Firmin bumped into him, "What is it?"

"Oh dear lord," Andre bent down and picked up the note handing it to Firmin. He did not want to have to see what was in it even though he had a feeling he knew from whom it was.

Firmin opened it and skimmed the letter.

"Is it?" Andre asked too afraid to look for himself.

"Yes," Firmin sighed. He pushed Andre further into the office and turned around shutting it soundly. "It's from the ghost."

"Are you certain?" Andre grabbed the note back.

Firmin sighed and slumped into his chair, "The Comte may have thought too highly of himself."

"It sounds like the ghost," Andre admitted.

"Or, perhaps he is playing us for fools," Firmin rustled through some sheets on his desk, "Have you seen his past dealings?"

"No," Andre had not been very convinced this plan would be the best course in the beginning. Ousting an old patron for one chosen by Carlotta seemed suspicious at best, so he had allowed Firmin to handle most of the dealings, "Reason to suspect foul play?"

Scoffing, Firmin nodded, "Yes." Now, he would have to go through the trouble of copying the packet of papers he held in his hand. He would normally have outright denied the ghost, or whoever this was, his request, but he did not want to pick an unnecessary fight. The ghost simply wanted papers and voiced concerns that he, himself, was currently having right now as well.

It was as he feared.

The Comte was trying to fool them and he refused to allow him to do so. However, Firmin could not help the apprehension at having to face this Comte. He was fairly certain that the Vicomte de Chagny had been taken care of. The Vicomte's evil plots seemed to be nothing compared to the Comte's; the boy would not know what hit him.

It was never really about just the Vicomte but about him and the ghost. As much as he had convinced himself that getting rid of one would ultimately get rid of the other, he was not so certain now. They had to be affiliated with each other, but the question hung over his head. What if they weren't cohorts? What if the ghost was simply using a weak patron to do his bidding? What if there was a third person completely unrelated to the Vicomte and his accomplice? Now that the Vicomte was gone, the 'real' ghost might do something drastic, especially with this new patron.

Things were getting so complicated.

Andre shook his head, "We cannot trust the Comte. We must do something."

"He's dangerous, Andre," Firmin warned, "We must tread carefully with this new development."

"Let's call Carlotta," Andre suggested.

Firmin was about to retort that it would be a bad idea to bad mouth the Comte in front of her, but he knew that he could sway her opinion of her Comte if he told her about Christine. That would work.

"I'll send for her."

o.o.o

The Comte de Montmartre entered the opera house quite pleased with himself. It was quite early, but he had not been able to stay away. After obtaining the mask, which was currently hidden in his jacket, he had come straight back to the opera house. Now both the Vicomte and the supposed opera ghost were now gone. He would have free reign over this opera house. Surely, he could think of several things he would like to do first.

He knew that he should visit the managers first and give them the mask as proof, but he could not deny the urge to visit Mlle Daae first. A surprise visit to her room when she was still half-asleep in her nightgown sounded like the perfect start of a good day. Walking through the hallways, he tried to think of a plan to take her away from the opera house. The managers would not be too pleased, but disapproval hardly ever stopped him from acting. Or maybe he didn't have to leave the opera house at all. All he needed to do was find a way to get Mlle Daae to invite him into her room alone.

Nearing her room, a voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Comte," Carlotta called from behind him. She had waited for his visit. In fact, she had not slept at all. Everything was prepared. The note was sent and she had planned several 'accidents' to occur throughout the day. Now, the only thing she needed to really focus on was keeping the Comte away from Christine. Luckily, all the rooms were close to each other. She knew that the Comte would certainly try to visit Christine immediately.

She had been worried that she would miss him when the managers decided to have an impromptu meeting between them. They said nothing about the ghost's letter, but they had shared their worries about the Comte. She of course, had agreed that he had been acting strangely lately. That was certainly an understatement. The thought of his 'strange' behaviour was enough to make her throw a fit, but she refused to give into the emotion. She would simply find a way to keep him. It was the best way to ensure her future. She had just raced through the halls to see the Comte heading towards Christine's room.

"How kind of you to visit in the morning," Carlotta walked up to him and hooked his arm into hers. "My room's this way." She dared him to find a way to get out of this.

"Oh, Carlotta, my prima donna," Pierre immediately turned to smile at her, "this opera house is so disorienting. I lost my way. How are you today?"

"Come, come now, Pierre," Carlotta dragged him to her room, "We mustn't have conversations in the hallway. It's quite barbaric." The longer she kept him before their rehearsals, the better. Helping him remove his jacket, she placed it over her own chair leaning on it.

Before the Comte could react, he was seated across from her drinking tea and speaking about the weather and her performance. The Comte wondered if Carlotta knew of his interest to the Daae girl, but he concluded that Carlotta would hardly be subtle in her displeasure. He knew it would be a loud and obvious displeasure if Carlotta did find out.

As Carlotta was about to turn the conversation to the other singers, someone knocked on the door. Pierre stood up to open it.

A servant bowed and said. "The managers request your presence, Comte."

o.o.o

Raoul wobbled a bit as the ghost shifted. He was currently stepping in a stirrup created by the ghost clasping his hands together. The window opened with some problem. The cold had iced over the edges. He struggled before it opened with a crack. Raoul stopped moving completely, hoping the sound was not as loud as he thought it was. He peeked out of the window cautiously looking left and right. No one was there and he heard no movement.

He glanced down at the ghost who was looking at the wall to his left. Raoul followed his gaze and saw nothing. He shrugged. Whispering, he asked, "Can you give me a little more of a boost?"

Erik nodded and desperately tried not to look up at him. Getting to this position was bad enough. At first, they had tried it with Erik against the wall and Raoul facing him. Erik blushed at the thought. Not only did Raoul have to lean against him just to reach the window, his crotch was had been too close to Erik's face for comfort. They decided the better position would be for Raoul to face the other way so that Erik was behind him. It was also embarrassing as Raoul's derriere was now in front of his face, but it was admittedly the lesser of the two temptations.

His heart was racing and it had nothing to do with the fact that they were attempting a dangerous escape.

Raoul lifted himself up onto the windowsill. That was not the hard part. He could easily fall through the other side face first. Instead, with some difficulty, he maneuvered himself until he had one leg on each side of the mausoleum. Though not tall, the window was wide enough that Raoul was straddling the window frame and resting on his stomach. He could not sit up completely before the window ended.

I should have thought of a better position, Raoul commented as he tried to shift so that all the pressure was on one of his thighs instead of his groin. This is the most uncomfortable position I've ever been in.

Well, it's only going to get better. Erik replied.

Raoul bit his groan. He now had to reach down and grab the ghost's arm. The reach should not be that bad, but the extra weight would probably make things increasingly painful.

"Just go, Raoul," Erik motioned for him to leave. He was starting to have his doubts at how well this plan would work. There was no way that Raoul could lift him through the window by himself. Even though he did not want to break his promise, he cared more for Raoul's safety. It was not as though he could not find Raoul after he figured some way to escape, if he could find some way to escape. He could not believe how stubborn the boy was being. He was just tempted to push the boy over himself, but he hardly thought that would be silent enough to pull off.

Raoul glanced out of the window. He could see the lone tree providing them some sort of cover. Their kidnappers had not given any indication of hearing them. The sun was beginning to rise. They would have to hurry. Shaking his head, he reached down as far as he could, "Give me your hand."

Erik hesitated for only a moment. He reached up and tried to grab Raoul's hand. It was so close, but out of his reach. He could jump, but he worried that he would only harm Raoul by doing so.

"Come on," Raoul whispered, "Jump."

Erik wanted to roll his eyes. That was what he was explicitly trying to avoid.

"Do it," Raoul goaded, "Are you afraid you won't make it?"

Erik narrowed his eyes and took the bait. He jumped. Just as he was about to grab Raoul's hand, Raoul was pulled out of the window from the outside. Raoul swallowed his yelp as he tumbled out of the mausoleum and landed on a body. He scrambled away readying himself for a fight.

Frantic, Erik desperately tried to reach the edge of the windowsill. He jumped over and over again, the edge just out of his reach. He could not hear anything that was happening outside. He wanted to call out, but if Raoul had simply slipped then he would only be endangering him. However, they had been so close to reaching each other. Erik could not help but remember the last time that Raoul had been reaching out towards him. He had not been able to reach Raoul then either and he had spent the next fifteen years regretting it every day.

Raoul looked at the person who had pulled him from the window. "Philippe?"

Philippe shook the snow off his clothing. Not bothering to respond, Philippe pulled Raoul into a hug. Raoul hugged back tightly, relief flooded his system.

"Raoul, thank God you're alright," Philippe did not want to let go, but he knew that time was of the essence. On the ride over, he had decided the best course of action would be to first do some reconnaissance. Leaving his horses some distance away, he crept towards the mausoleum and saw Raoul half out of the window. He had not really been thinking when he pulled Raoul out.

Realizing that all was not well when Raoul heard the whispered yells of his own name from the mausoleum, he released Philippe from the hug and dragged him back towards the window. "We need to save the ghost."

Raoul expected some resistance, but Philippe only nodded and readied his hands so that Raoul would be able to step on them. He was lifted to the window once more.

Erik stared at the window, his despair growing until Raoul's head suddenly popped into view.

"Raoul?" Erik did not think the ground on the other side of the mausoleum was high enough that Raoul should be able to reach the window.

Before he could ask any more questions, Raoul had draped himself over the windowsill, this time lower so that when he reached his hand out, Erik easily grabbed it. Raoul grinned and clasped the ghost's hand tightly.

"You ready?"

Erik nodded.

Raoul whispered over the windowsill, "Pull me."

Raoul allowed himself to slide down the window hoping that the force of gravity would help him pull the ghost through the window. His stomach hurt at the pressure, but he ignored the pain. Philippe was pulling his legs on the other side and once the ghost was able to get a hand on the sill, the pressure was lessened considerably. Still, his arm felt as though it was being pulled out of its socket and his stomach was certainly going to have scratches and bruises that would last a while. Still as the ghost shimmied through the window and the two fell onto the ground in a tangled heap, Raoul could not explain the absolute joy he felt.

The sound of horse's hooves alerted them of another presence. From a distance, they could see that coming directly at them was one of their captors.

"They're escaping!" The kidnap on horseback yelled.

The head of the kidnapper who had remained jerked up. He had not heard anything, but then again he had allowed himself some rest. Seeing his partner racing towards the mausoleum, he scrambled to his feet and raced towards the side both his guns raised to fire.

Making a decision right then, the kidnapper thought it best that they act now. The ghost and Vicomte had apparently made it through the night and now they had help. He had planned to just leave them in there as he and his partner made their escape, but that was no longer an option. "Kill them."

Philippe grabbed both Raoul and Erik hauling them to their feet. The first shot fire sounded too close for comfort and Philippe was suddenly being dragged towards the mausoleum wall for cover by Raoul. The tree shook. Erik had positioned himself between the shooter and Raoul. Philippe had the easiest access to the back of the mausoleum. His horses were not very far, but there was not much cover. However, he knew that there was be no cover at all once the kidnapper on the horse came. He grabbed Raoul's hand and dragged him towards the horses. They would simply have to run fast and hope the man was a horrible shot.

Jerked forward, Raoul reached out instinctively and grabbed the ghost's hand. Erik did not have time to be surprised before he was being pulled away. He could not help but grin even in the midst of the panic and fear of being killed. Raoul was not looking at him, but his hand was clutching his desperately, almost as though he was afraid that Erik would disappear if he loosened it just a fraction. Erik only held his hand tightly in turn.

Another shot was fire as they turned the corner. Philippe looked for their next cover before lunging forward with both Raoul and Erik in tow. He refused to release Raoul's hand. He would not let anything happen to either of them any longer. He swore to himself that he would get them both to safety.

The closer that the kidnapper on the horse got, the more he realized that his partner should not be shooting at them. If he was not mistaken, that was the Comte de Chagny. That was one man more than he had agreed to kill. The Comte de Chagny had very powerful friends and there was no way he would be able to prevent a full out investigation of his death if he was killed even if the opera ghost was there.

He had gotten his money already. He and his partner would hopefully be able to disappear completely before the Comte de Montmartre found out. Changing his course, he headed directly for his partner.

"Stop."

His partner stopped chasing the group though fired once more. Philippe had glanced behind him to check their progress away from the kidnappers when he spotted the shooter aiming for them. Without even thinking, he jerked Raoul forward and both he and Erik fell forward. Philippe used his body to protect the two. He cried out in pain when the bullet hit.

"Philippe!" Raoul cried out. Philippe jerked backwards, but managed to stay on his feet. He clutched his side.

"I'm okay," Philippe pushed Raoul to his feet again. Erik looked at him worriedly, but did not say anything. "Keep running."

Fighting back the pain, Philippe grabbed Raoul's hand and lead the way to the horses desperately pulling them behind a tall statue.

The kidnapper aimed again certain that he would be able to kill at least one of them when his partner rode his horse directly in front of his line of sight.

"Hey. What are you doing?"

Shaking his head, the kidnapper reached a hand down, "Get up. We're getting out of here now."

"But the ghost," he pointed in the direction the trio had run, "we can still catch up. I hit one."

"Get up now. We're leaving."

Hearing the tone of voice, the kidnapper mounted behind his partner. They had let the carriage go a while ago and keeping one horse silent was easier than two.

They galloped off.

Reaching the horses, Philippe doubled over in pain. He pressed against the wound but felt nauseous. Easing himself on the floor, he tilted his head towards the horses, "Now get on and we'll finally go home." He made sure to look at both Raoul and Erik. He tried to smile.

Erik did not miss the meaningful look, and he could not quite believe what Raoul's brother was implying.

Raoul reached down and pulled his hands away from the wound. His brother had been hiding it the whole way to the horses.

"Philippe," Raoul's hands were shaking as he checked the wound, "This looks bad."

Hearing Raoul's shaky words, Erik looked between the brothers. Raoul had tears clinging to his eyes and Philippe could barely keep his eyes open. There was a lot of blood already. He grabbed Raoul's hands and pulled them away.

"Place pressure on the wound," Erik told Philippe. He had to shake him just to get his attention and follow the action, "We'll help you onto the horse. We need to get you home right now." Raoul got the idea and went on the other side of Philippe. With both their effort, Philippe was on the horse. He almost fell over, but he shook his head and clung to the saddle. He could feel his own blood slipping through his fingers.

"Ride with him," Erik told Raoul, "so that he doesn't fall over."

Erik helped Raoul up so that he sat behind Philippe. It was a little difficult to see over Philippe's shoulder, but Raoul knew it was better this way so that he would have an easier time making sure that Philippe did not fall off the horse. Philippe knew that he should feel indignant considering he was the one doing the rescuing, but he could not think beyond how cold it was getting.

Mounting the second horse, Erik motioned for Raoul to go ahead. However, he faced the other direction.

Where is he going? Erik asked.

"What are you doing?" Raoul asked aloud for them both. There was a slight desperation in his voice he did not quite understand.

Raoul brought his horse so close that their legs were brushing.

Erik shook his head. He was going to chase down those kidnappers, torture them, and then kill them. Then he was going to kill the Comte. He had business to attend to. He would follow later. Later he told himself. Right now, he was going to get his revenge before he lived that peaceful life he had always wanted together with Raoul. He was not sure if those words were true though.

He had cooled down considerably since the night before and then later to Raoul's question. Raoul still did not remember. Didn't that say enough about where he belonged? He belonged buried in the past. He did not want to think about it right now because currently their kidnappers were only getting further away. He would kill them first, then worry.

He opened his mouth to send Raoul away when Philippe looked at him.

Philippe shook his head, "We're going home. Where are you going?"

He's going after them.

Can I stop him? Raoul asked even though he knew the answer. I don't think I can.

Then make sure he comes back to us. Erik insisted.

Releasing the reins, Raoul reached out and grabbed the ghost's pinky with his own, "Promise you'll come back."

Erik stared at their entwined fingers and all his doubts seemed to vanish. Raoul wanted him there. He'd always wanted him with him. A lump formed in his throat. He nodded and whispered, "I promise."

Raoul nodded trusting the ghost to keep his word before snapping the reins. His brother was ill. He needed to get home. He was certain his butler would be able to help them.

Snapping his own reins, Erik dug his heels into the horse. He needed to focus. Tracking the kidnappers should not be too hard since it was not snowing. He was fairly certain not many people visited the cemetery at this time. Their tracks would be rather obvious. They would not know what hit them. After all, Erik had a promise to keep.

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End Chapter 19

Word count: 7,716

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

Chapter review: Crap, I shot Philippe. It was either him or Raoul and Philippe has a lot of guilt he needs to work off. Of course he'd protect his brother any way possible. Erik's stupid enough to chase after the two. Carlotta is actually doing a good job manipulating the Comte, so that looks promising. Let's see what she has planned. Will Erik keep his promise this time?

Author review: Ok. Hopefully I'll post by Wednesday or sooner. Enjoy the weekend. Oh, cursory editing job on this one – I swear at some point, I'll focus a lot on editing, but I'd rather post than keep it to myself. Hopefully the glaringly obvious mistakes are no longer in it.