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

Summary: ErikRaoul slash. Raoul and Erik meet before the whole fiasco. This is what happens.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Author Note: I totally didn't feel like writing this chapter… don't ask why. It's been a weird couple of weeks, and Chapter 25 may be delayed a week since I won't have to write for a while (blame it on my manager… lol, not really, but it's kind of complicated to explain).

Story Note: If you get a déjà vu feeling, it's because there's overlapping in the beginning. Nope, it's not a typo, but I did want to add a little mystery in the end of the last chapter (I know, I'm horrible about cliffhangers). This chapter is short because the next chapter has all the action in it. Well, it's got to after all.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 24 – New Spectacle

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Firmin's been playing opera ghost. Andre's been kept in the dark. Madame Giry goes to investigate Erik's absence and stumbles upon the back room (Yup the room with all of Raoul's baby photos!). The Comte's in Box 5 and is hearing noises. Raoul sneaks to the opera house and gets caught by his brother.

o.o.o

Firmin fidgeted in his seat. The opera was going to start soon. He couldn't help it as he glanced at Box 5 to where the Comte was seated. The first thing the man had done upon entering was to check his jacket. Firmin didn't known why he was so nervous; he knew that the Comte would find nothing. The man looked rather annoyed by the fact, but he sat down and cast no suspicious glances towards him, so Firmin relaxed a fraction. However, thoughts of where the real mask was began to plague him. Clearing his throat to catch Andre's attention, he stood up.

"I'm going to check on the Comte to make sure he's comfortable."

Before Andre could respond, Firmin was already in the hallway heading for the box where he had stashed the opera ghost's mask. He wasn't sure leaving it unattended in an occupied box was the brightest of ideas any longer. He had to make certain it was still there, and scaring the Comte in the mean time didn't seem like a very bad idea either.

Carlotta was performing, so the ruse fell onto him to get the Comte's attention. She had her own part to perform later on in the opera with some less than sturdy props and sandbags. There were so many things that could go wrong onstage that she had a wide variety to choose from. Firmin was actually excited to see what she would do.

Pulling aside the curtain to the box he had noted earlier, Firmin excused himself to the couples that were seated in the box.

"Pardon me," He bent low, not meeting any of their eyes, "I have come to pick up a cloak someone had mistakenly left here."

He picked up the undisturbed cloak in the corner and bowed once more before leaving just as the curtains onstage were being drawn. The couples stared at his back in confusion as he left, chalking it down to another quirk of the Opera Populaire they could share with their friends.

As expected, once the opera began, the smaller hallways were emptied. He passed only a few attendants in the larger one he had to pass en route to Box 5, and even then, no one gave him a second glance. So, when he arrived at the hallway where he could access Box 5, he noted that it was blissfully empty. Throwing on the cloak and holding the mask close to his face, he approached the box. Just a little appearance, and if the Comte was quick enough to follow him out, Firmin was certain that he could lose the man through the many turns of the opera house. He could also discard the cloak and mask and maybe hide in another box. After all, he was a manager. He had a right to make sure his audience was having a good time.

It was dangerous, and he might be a little out of shape, but this ruse was much too important to give up just yet.

As he approached the box, preparing himself for a ghostly appearance, he was tapped on the shoulder. Annoyance overpowered logical thought as he turned around with the mask still held up in front of him.

"What do you…?"

The question died in his throat as he stared at the disfigured face of the man who he was masquerading as. He had never seen the opera ghost's face before, but he had heard all the stories – hadn't actually believed in them at the time. Now, he wished that he had been able to avoid ever seeing the man without the mask at all. Firmin stared open-mouthed, his hand dropping from in front of his face. It was so disturbing that he couldn't even look away.

The evil visage did something Firmin suspected was a smile before speaking as he took the mask from Firmin's grasp.

"Thank you for finding that. I thought I had misplaced it."

Erik grabbed the still shocked Firmin's neck and dragged him away from the box. The man finally let out a yell as he struggled, but Erik's grasp was firm. He hauled the manager away as he flailed, down through another empty hallway before Firmin eventually lost consciousness from lack of oxygen.

o.o.o

Looking across the auditorium, the Comte noticed that Firmin was missing. He narrowed his eyes. If the ghost were to be seen again, he didn't care if he was wrong, he was going to confront that manager.

It seemed too convenient that he was always away when something with the ghost occurred. Though, during the stage incident, both managers had been with him. It could be some sort of conspiracy. He had looked back towards the stage when a sound in the hallway outside his box caught his attention. It sounded like a muffled yell.

Quickly rushing out of his box, he looked up and down the hallway only to find it empty.

He had been so certain though. Someone had been there.

Slowly returning to his seat, he kept part of his attention straining to hear anything in the hallway again. The next time he would be prepared for when he heard something suspicious.

His eyes returned to the stage. Something didn't feel right. Wasn't the ghost supposed to be extremely territorial? He wouldn't wait very long to become angered at the fact that someone was seated in his box. Maybe those were actually just rumours though. The Comte didn't know for certain. The only thing he could do was wait for something to happen. He hoped it would happen soon because as beautiful Mlle Daae was to watch, he was anxious to get this ghost business over with.

o.o.o

Erik dragged the now unconscious manager through the opera house making sure to avoid the main hallways. He fixed his mask so that it settled properly over his deformity, wondering how Raoul would react to seeing his face again. The Vicomte had been kind enough to cover it when they'd been in the mausoleum. It was only now that he was wondering if it had been for Raoul's benefit or his. Maybe the Vicomte had done so only to save himself the horror of having to see his face.

That didn't sound very much like him though. Raoul had seemed genuinely concerned for him, had even gotten his brother to help him escape as well. Erik grinned at the memory of their time in the mausoleum. It hadn't been exactly as he'd planned to spend time with Raoul, but it had definitely gone much better than he expected.

For a moment, Erik grinned before realizing how serious this was going to become. The mere thought of Raoul was able to make him grin. Could he actually stay in the same room as Raoul and not want something more? He hoped the answer was yes because Raoul meant so much more.

But… he thought about when Raoul had been unconscious in his home. He hadn't been able to control himself then. God. In the rush of the events that had happened, he'd completely forgotten that he'd actually betrayed Raoul. Their promise to never betray each other, one of the few promises Erik had ever made in his life had been broken.

Erik pushed his doubts aside. This wasn't the time for thinking those thoughts. He had to first get back to Raoul, and he had three more people to deal with before he could get to him.

The familiarity of navigating through the opera house didn't feel as calming as it should have, even if he was carrying dead weight with him; it only reinforced the fact that his decision to leave was the right one. Going through a passageway he opened from behind a portrait in the hallway, he dragged the manager towards the stage.

It had been rather convenient that the manager had chosen to leave in the beginning of the opera. It would make things move even quicker.

So, step one in his plan to ruin the managers life before ultimately killing him was now set in motion. He had to get Carlotta back into this picture, but at least he could multi-task since he was heading towards the stage, where thankfully Carlotta had the silent part. At least the managers had been smart enough to stick with the casting.

They weren't smart enough to tell the Comte not to sit in his seat however. It was a small infraction considering the man had almost killed Raoul. That thought alone made his hand grip Firmin's shirt tighter. He dropped his arm lower so that more of the manager's legs would drag on the floor.

If things worked out as he expected them to, then everything would be remedied. The managers and Carlotta would be dealt with. The Comte ruined before he was killed because with a man like him, a quick death was simply too nice. It was only fair that he suffer as well.

o.o.o

Raoul froze in his spot, cursing in his head.

Watch the language. Erik chastised with amusement.

"So, it's a pleasant evening for an opera, isn't it?" Raoul asked conversationally. He took a step back. Running away was not an option though. Philippe would certainly find him in the end and then the 'conversation', more like lecture, after would be that much worse. Then, there was the fact that though he could run faster considering his brother's current state, Raoul didn't want his brother to injure himself further. Better to deal with this now.

Erik replied, Then, that was perhaps a very bad start. An apology would have gone over better.

"What do you think you're doing here?" Philippe walked over. Raoul was certain he would have stalked over, but his brother was still watching his wound. The anger was obvious either way.

Told you.

"I," Raoul tried to think of a good excuse, "Brother. You see."

Erik paused, waiting expectantly but Raoul really couldn't think of anything he could possibly say to make this situation better than it seemed. We definitely must work on your eloquence.

You mean my ability to lie? Raoul asked.

I thought we were already making progress in that respect. Erik admitted.

Raoul agreed. I thought so too.

"You promised me, Raoul," Philippe grabbed his shoulders. The look of betrayal in his brother's eyes actually stung. "You promised you would stay."

"I did," Raoul said slowly, dropping his head. He couldn't bear to look his brother in the eyes. He added, "I stayed until you left."

An exasperated breath later, Philippe replied, "Why am I not even surprised?"

See, Erik replied, I told you!

"I came to make sure you didn't hurt yourself, okay?" Raoul pouted at both of them for being so unreasonable. "Is that so wrong?"

"It is when you're still sick." Philippe's answer was immediate. He placed a hand on Raoul's forehead, but Raoul swatted it away. Philippe could tell that he was still running a slightly higher temperature.

"That's not fair," Raoul repeated his earlier argument, his voice getting louder, "You're injured."

"Shh, quiet," Philippe motioned towards the box seats.

In a more subdued voice, Raoul repeated, "Well, it isn't fair."

Grabbing his arm, Philippe pulled Raoul towards the entrance. "We need to get you home."

"No," Raoul stood his ground.

Good for you, Raoul. Erik cheered.

His brother winced when he pulled to no avail.

Raoul immediately checked to make sure Philippe was fine. "Are you okay?"

Bad. Show no pity. Erik immediately said, even though there was no feeling behind the words. He knew how important his brother was to Raoul.

I'm here to make sure both of them are alright. Raoul immediately remarked.

"I'll be better if you were at home," his brother admitted. His side hurt enough to make him a little nauseous, but he deep-breathed through the pain.

Raoul wanted to make things better, wanted his brother to not worry about him, but he couldn't just leave them here, "Not unless you and the ghost are coming with me."

"We can't find the ghost right now," Philippe frowned at his request, "How would we even begin to find him?"

Your brother does have a point, Erik stated, How do you plan on finding him?

Raoul looked down the hallway and towards the box seats, "Then what were you doing?"

"The Comte's sitting in Box 5," his brother stated matter-of-factly.

"The Comte?" Raoul's eyes widened. "No. The ghost's going to be angry."

Philippe nodded, "I do believe that was the point."

Thank God Philippe was here or else we would have walked right into the Comte, Erik noted.

Raoul agreed. That would have been bad.

"Wait," he realized belatedly, "If you knew he was there, why were you going to the box?"

"I was going to kill the man," his brother answered, as though the answer should have been obvious.

What else did you think he was going to do? Erik replied. What do you think the ghost is going to do? Invite him for tea?

I, Raoul floundered, I knew he was angry, but killing the kidnappers was one thing. Killing a Comte is another. There are repercussions even a ghost and my brother cannot get out of.

Well, he'll just have to be really stealthy. Erik suggested, though he knew that Raoul had a point.

"No," Raoul shook his head.

Philippe had been watching Raoul's internal battle and was still thrown off when Raoul shook his head, "No, what?"

"You're not going to kill that man." He stated firmly, grabbing his brother's arm.

"What? Why?" Philippe couldn't believe Raoul was protecting the Comte, "He almost killed you. He tried to kill you."

"But he didn't," Raoul tried to convince him.

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Well. It means something to me," Raoul's voice was rising a bit again.

Philippe paused, more so that Raoul would calm down than to think. "Why are you really here?"

Raoul looked away and stubbornly said, "I don't want anything to happen to you."

His brother grinned. That was definitely Raoul, worrying about people even when there were things like honour and revenge to carry out.

"And nothing will happen to me," Philippe asserted.

Shaking his head, Raoul's grip tightened, "You don't know that."

"Stop arguing, little brother," Philippe was using his older brother tone, the one that demanded to be listened to, and Raoul knew that Philippe wasn't going to go home.

Well, Raoul told Erik, we aren't going home either.

o.o.o

The Comte stood up a second time. This time he was certain he heard people outside. Voices. It wasn't frightening, and though he seriously doubted it was the ghost having a conversation outside just to annoy him, he stood up regardless.

Just as he was about to step out into the hallway, screams erupted inside the auditorium. He headed back inside the box to see what the commotion was. In the middle of the stage, a body hung from the rafters. For a second, he didn't know what it was that had fallen for it was all frills and an ungodly bright color that he was certain reflected off the lights of the stage. A second look told him that it was in fact a person hanging from the rafters and who wasn't dead, especially since the rope was around the woman's chest and not neck.

Looking closer at the bowed head, the Comte wondered, did that woman have a beard?

Firmin woke up slowly. "Ow, my head."

He opened his eyes, bright lights blinding him momentarily. He tried to use his hands to block the light, but they wouldn't budge. He struggled against the binds for a moment, straining to see past the lights. He could only see dark figures, but it wasn't their eyes that caught his attention though; it was the laughter.

The whole audience was laughing loudly and pointing at him. Glancing to his left, he saw that even the employees were laughing at him, pointing and laughing.

"Get me down from here," he shouted, kicking. I only caused him to swing slightly and spin, which caused the audience to laugh even louder. "Someone close the damn curtain!"

No one was moving though. He looked down to see if he could remove the rope himself.

"What am I wearing?"

o.o.o

Philippe and Raoul were both pressed against the wall when they saw the curtain part. Both closed their eyes, but their spot against the wall really did nothing to hide them. In fact, it would probably be harder to explain why they were standing the way they were if the Comte did leave the box.

Erik was laughing in Raoul's head. What were you two hoping to accomplish pressed against the wall? Did you think you would blend in?

There was nowhere else to go! Raoul replied, annoyed at him for laughing at their predicament.

Thankfully, the Comte returned back inside the box at the scream.

Philippe was the first one to move. He grabbed Raoul's arm and dragged him down the hallway towards another box. They slipped in and saw the commotion on the stage.

It simply brought Erik into a whole other fit of laughter at seeing the manager hanging in the middle of the stage. The curtains were only partially drawn and he was spinning in a slow circle. Priceless. The ghost… I am a genius. Public humiliation is the perfect punishment. Now if only the Comte were beside him, with the rope around his neck of course.

Raoul couldn't help the laughter that came out of his own mouth.

Philippe on the other hand looked around. The couple in the box seat hadn't noticed them; they were simply laughing too hard. He spotted the Comte in the next box and pulled Raoul back into the shadows. However, the man's eyes were trained on the stage. He followed his line of sight and saw Carlotta running off the stage. The other performers and Christine were to the side. Some covering their mouths to hide their laughter, but most were outright laughing at the manager, whose face had gone bright red.

When Philippe looked back towards Box 5, the Comte had already gone. He was about to pull Raoul out as well so that they would not lose him when a voice boomed throughout the theatre. It shook him through to his very bones.

"Leave if you value your lives."

The commotion died down immediately. No one moved, except for Firmin, who was still slowly spinning. The audience did not know what was happening.

"You will run. Or die." The voice boomed, shaking even the chandelier.

It took a second before the shocked silence that had descended broke. Screams filled the air and Raoul physically recoiled at the sound. He didn't know why, just stood there barely even seeing the people scrambling towards the exits. They didn't need another warning. The couple that had been sitting in the box Raoul and Philippe stood in pushed past them. Philippe fell against the wall, letting out a choked cry of pain. It was that sound that brought Raoul out of his stupor.

He was at his brother's side, helping him up gingerly.

His brother was grinning though. "The man has presence."

"That's one way to say it," Raoul replied. He focused on the present.

I think we just found the ghost. Erik said cheerfully. Let's go retrieve me, shall we?

"Let's go." Raoul led them out of the box. The hallways were packed and everyone was jostling each other in their mad rush to leave the opera house.

"To the stage?" Philippe asked, as Raoul acted as a buffer between the other people and him. He knew his brother was doing it intentionally so that he wouldn't be bumped as much. He wanted to go after the Comte, but more than likely, the man was heading towards the stage as well.

Even though the blood was pounding in his ears and his stomach was clenched with worry, Raoul grinned back at him, "We certainly aren't going home."

o.o.o

Andre had run towards the stage the moment the body had dropped from the rafters in the middle of the act. Christine and the chorus girls had screamed, horrified, but it had taken him only a second to see that it was Firmin even in that ridiculous outfit. He thought that the ghost had killed him though. Then the laughter began. Andre was almost tempted to join in, but there were more important things to worry about; for instance, the ghost's obvious attempt at ruining the Opera Populaire.

Getting to the stage, Carlotta pushed past him in a hurry. The ghost's voice boomed through the auditorium. No matter where he looked, he could see no sign of the ghost however. It sounded like the voice came from every direction.

Christine was staring in abject horror at the chaos that ensued; she held onto Meg, who looked around worriedly. Even as the stagehands and performers alike were rushing out of the opera house, the two remained where they stood.

However, with them leaving, no one was helping Firmin down. Andre fumbled with the multiple ropes he found that could possibly be connected to Firmin's.

"Andre!" Firmin called out, seeing his partner. "We're ruined. Ruined."

He had a clear view of the people running on top of each other just to get out of the theatre. There would be injuries and there would be bad press, the worst kind possible, the one that claimed the opera house was unsafe for people. No one would want to come here again.

"Where is Carlotta?" Firmin suddenly asked. He didn't not want her to get away. The real opera ghost was around here and he would not be the only one to be made a fool of for his role in this ruse. She should suffer as well.

"Carlotta? Why her?" Andre asked as he loosed a rope. A sandbag fell several feet away from Firmin.

"Find her!" Firmin yelled, not trusting Andre to cut the right rope.

Andre hesitated.

"Just go!"

o.o.o

As Raoul and Philippe finally approached the stage, Raoul turned to his brother, pointing to Firmin.

"You help the manager."

"No," Philippe looked at him in confusion, "If I heard correctly, that man deserves what's coming to him."

I'd have to agree with your brother on this point. Erik stated. Let the man hang. It's not like he's in any mortal danger… yet.

"Don't be difficult," Raoul insisted. "Help him."

Philippe rolled his eyes, but his brother was giving him those eyes again. Grudgingly, he nodded. Looking at where the rope was attached to, he realized that he would have to climb the rigging just to get the man down. He muttered curses under his breath as he began his ascent when it pulled on his wound.

Raoul changed his mind, tugging him down.

"Ow, what as that for?" Philippe looked at him. "I was…"

"You're going to hurt yourself," Raoul pointed to his side, "I'll do it."

"No," he immediately said, "It's too dangerous."

Spotting movement across the stage, Raoul pointed, "Deal with them. Be nice, okay?"

When his brother looked across the stage, Raoul began to climb before he could protest again.

At least Philippe understands. Raoul replied. He was willing to free him.

Erik scoffed. Just because he can't say no to you, doesn't mean he understands.

Glaring at Raoul, Philippe walked across the stage. Clearing his throat to get their attention, Christine and Meg turned to look at him.

"Philippe?" Christine said slowly.

Philippe's eyes widened a fraction. He nodded tersely. This was Christine? He glanced at Raoul and wondered why his brother hadn't tried to pursue her. After all, Raoul'd spent so much time with her that one summer so long ago. He didn't have time to think about that though. The Comte would certainly be arriving soon, and he couldn't understand why they were just standing there. The girl to Christine's left sniffled and looked at him with slight curiosity; however, it did not hide her worry.

"Are you two feeling well?" He asked.

They nodded, but Meg looked far from it. Both had tears in their eyes.

"What are you two still doing here?" He tried to usher them away from the stage.

"We're waiting for Madame Giry," Christine responded when Meg remained silent, "Her mother."

Philippe looked at the blonde. That would explain why she was crying.

"Yes," Meg finally spoke, "She said that she was going to be here, and I want to make sure she's fine."

"She's probably outside waiting for you," Philippe tried to convince them; it was obviously a lie since he had no idea where Madame Giry had gone off to, but he had a feeling something big was about to happen. He didn't want the girls to get hurt in the process.

"No," Meg was firm. "She'll come back here. I know it."

Philippe looked around the stage. There was no one here, but that didn't mean that would last for very much longer. He was beginning to lose his patience. He came here to deal with the Comte, not watch two girls who hadn't the sense to run when the opera ghost threatened to kill everyone that remained in the building. At least the two looked frightened. Maybe he could compromise with them.

"Why don't you," he wracked his brain, "wait in your room? I'll tell Madame Giry you're there if I see her."

The two shared a look before nodding; there was no reason to be around when the opera ghost appeared.

o.o.o

The Comte didn't head towards the stage immediately. Instead, he went in the direction he thought that Carlotta would head. The woman had fled rather quickly, as though she had been expecting something bad to happen. He didn't know why, but her reaction had struck him as odd. It was even more suspicious that he couldn't find her.

Giving up his search of the hallways, he headed towards the stage. At least the manager shouldn't be too difficult to find.

On his way, he caught a flash of black turn a corner. Racing after it, the Comte turned and barely caught sight of a cloaked figure was running towards the stage. He laughed to himself. He finally caught her. Closing the distance, the Comte grabbed the cloak forcing her to turn around.

"Caught you," he smirked triumphantly.

The cloaked figure turned around and stood up tall, taller than Carlotta was. He was certain that the mask certainly didn't fit her that well either. The masked figure smiled maliciously at him, "I believe I've caught you."

The Comte didn't have enough time to react when the Punjab lasso fell around his neck.

o.o.o

o.o.o.o

End Chapter 24

Word count: 4,473

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

Chapter review: That was an evil ending and the good part's really just about to start. How evil!

Vote: As stated in the previous chapters: your vote… Masked Series part 03 or Imaginary Friends continuation… honestly, they'll both have happy endings (I'm sure you were worried about that with respect to the Masked Series, but I said I'd give a happy ending) and I'll eventually write both of them, but it's your choice. Or, if you want another story, why not vote for that too… if there's a tie, I get to pick w/e story I want. :)