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: To make up for coming back after two weeks and then posting possibly one of the most evil cliffhangers ever, I'm posting a little longer (compared to the last few ones) chapter with a good (IMHO) Erik/Raoul moment as well as a not-so-cliffhanger-y cliffhanger at the end (sorta).
Story Note: There's some humor in this at the expense of a character death. It's a minor character death after all, doesn't matter that much. Erik's also a bit of a pushover in this one – OOC, even a little for him in the context of this story, but in his defense, Raoul's just really good like that. Erik's under a lot of emotional stress, too; he'll be back to his certain possessive madness in the chapters to come.
o.o.o.o
Imaginary Friends
Chapter 26 – Let's go
o.o.o.o
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt
o.o.o.o
Last time: Raoul, who was on the catwalk trying to free Firmin, hides when Erik comes on stage with the Comte hogtied in tow. Philippe and Erik banter. Erik brings out Carlotta, also tied and stashed in the back somewhere. Madame Giry buys the boys some time by sending the police the long way to the stage and goes off to hopefully help them.
o.o.o
When the Comte turned around, one end of the rope he held was on fire. Philippe stared at him distrustfully; it was no sword, but catching on fire certainly was something he would like to avoid. The bigger concern was whether he would set the stage on fire.
The Comte swung it at him; he jumped back in time, but still felt the heat of the flame on his face. The move forced him to bend backwards and he couldn't contain his scream when the pain in his stomach intensified. He managed to straighten without wincing. The Comte probably didn't know about his injury; he could hopefully pass the scream off as a reaction to the fire. It seemed to have worked since the Comte didn't seem to suspect anything, only swung the fire between them.
However much Philippe tried to attack, the man was effectively keeping him out of sword distance. Philippe kept an eye on the rope however; that fire would burn to the Comte's hands eventually and then he'd have his chance to attack. In the mean time, a distraction was in order.
He stared down the Comte. Waiting until the man swung the rope at him again, Philippe took the opening afterwards to attack. He did a series of quick jabs, aiming for the vital organs. The Comte easily dodged. The man was obviously well trained, and thinking about it, Philippe figured there was a lot of opportunity for a man of his type to maintain his fighting ability considering the people he dealt with.
Or, maybe he was just slower than usual. Philippe tried not to think about that. When he did, he remembered his side and the throbbing would begin again. If he focused enough, he could forget his injury completely.
Circling, the Comte moved to put Carlotta between them. She had been silent, trying to shuffle herself away from them. She hadn't gotten far, considering she hadn't been able to get to her knees. She'd only managed to inch herself beside the bed.
The Comte let the rope dangle near her.
"Pierre!" She shrieked in horror, feeling the heat. "Stop!"
Tears were streaming down her face, and Philippe actually had to wonder if they were real. She looked more angry than frightened even though her life was in danger.
"Help me!" She looked at Philippe expectantly. The Comte looked at him as well, almost challenging him to save her. He kept Carlotta between them.
Philippe shrugged. She was part of the ploy against Raoul, which meant that she had a hand in almost killing him. Philippe ran at them and attacked with complete disregard for the safety of the woman. He wasn't particularly aiming for her, but it wasn't as though he was cautious. The Comte had actually not been expecting that. He almost dropped the rope, but he managed to dodge as the sword imbedded itself inches from Carlotta's face. She screamed and rolled away from both of them.
Philippe watched her move away with little interest. It would have only been fair that she die because of the man she had made the deal with, but the Comte had been taking too long.
o.o.o
As he stood on the catwalk, Erik's stomach was still somewhere in his throat at seeing Raoul almost plummet to the stage.
This was what he got for leaving people alive. He was going to kill the man with his own two hands, literally wait to see the life leave him. The kidnapper had dared to touch Raoul, harm Raoul, twice. There would be no third time. Before the kidnapper could make it any closer to Raoul, Erik grabbed his shoulder and yanked him backwards, immediately punching him in the face. The man fell backwards almost falling over the edge, but Erik caught him before he could. That would simply be too kind.
Instead, he fell to the catwalk. Erik barely saw the surprise in the man's expression before his rage and his fists blocked any sight of the man beneath him. He was barely satisfied when bone crunched under his fists, thick blood flowed freely, and the man's pained gasps reached his ears.
He needed to the satisfaction of watching him die painfully.
"Ghost," Raoul called, his voice tense as he clung to the edge of the catwalk. His fingers were beginning to hurt, and no matter what he did, he couldn't get back up.
I really wish he would forget about that man and just help us already. Erik commented. He tried to sound calm, but Raoul heard the worry underlying the statement.
Carlotta's screams and the sounds of his brother's grunts reached his ears, but he focused on what was happening on the catwalk. The ghost was the only one that could potentially save them. Raoul couldn't even see the kidnapper anymore. The only thing visible from his vantage point was the ghost's arms moving up and down repeatedly, punching him. Erik refused to stop even when the man curled up into a ball.
"Ghost!" he didn't know if he could make himself sound any more desperate than that. Still, the ghost didn't even glance in his direction. "Help!"
I don't think I can hold on for very much longer. Raoul thought frantically to Erik.
You have to. Erik said immediately. His voice was firm. Hold on just a little longer.
Well, Raoul tried to pull himself up, but only succeeded in tiring himself out a little more. There's not much choice when my fingers are just about to give out.
Erik replied on top of Raoul's observation. Call to me.
What do you think I've been doing? Raoul shot back.
Don't say 'ghost.' Call out to me! Erik ordered.
Raoul hesitated. It felt awkward even though he knew that it was the man's name. "Erik!"
The ghost immediately stopped attacking the kidnapper. He looked up as though in a daze, as though he had forgotten that Raoul was hanging on for dear life. Just as he saw Raoul's hands slip from the edge, he dove praying to whoever would listen that he would be able to catch him. Raoul didn't even have time to scream as he fell. Just barely catching one hand, Erik almost slid off the catwalk himself. However, he managed to hold on to Raoul and stop himself from sliding off. Glancing over his shoulder, Erik noted that the kidnapper was not moving, one less thing to worry about. Grabbing Raoul's one hand with both of his own, Erik began to pull him up.
A look of utter relief crossed Raoul's features, but the expression afterwards was what Erik wanted to burn in his memory. It was a look similar to what Erik had seen when Raoul had been a child, awe and adoration.
Thank God. Erik breathed a sigh of relief.
Raoul held onto the ghost's hand as tightly as he could. You didn't think you'd make it? He yelled at Erik.
Well, I wasn't exactly completely certain he would reach us in time. Erik replied. And, let me note that I appreciate how he's only me when you're angry.
And I like how you're willing to claim yourself separate when you're guilty.
Erik didn't have a response to that, and Raoul turned his full attention to the ghost, to Erik. There was a reason it was easier to think of the ghost as, well, the ghost. It was simply too strange that the voice in his head and the man holding onto him could be the same person. After all, Erik had been in his mind since he had been a child, and he didn't know a thing about the ghost other than what his brother had told him.
But, you thought we sounded similar when you first met him. Erik pointed out.
Thinking you were similar and finding out that he's actually the reason you're with me are two entirely different things. Raoul replied. Who thought that finding out about our past would be so confusing?
You are glad though.
Yeah. Raoul found himself grinning even though his shoulder was beginning to hurt from his own weight. He looked at the ghost and hoped that he could connect this man to his own memory instead of what his brother had told him. He didn't doubt Philippe, but having some sort of confirmation would have been nice. I am glad that he's here.
Erik's hand slipped a bit as he tried to pull Raoul back up and he winced when he realized it was because his hands were smeared with blood. Glancing at Raoul to see if he was disgusted by that fact, he was relieved to see that Raoul was simply looking straight at him. His eyes were searching, and it actually made him uncomfortable, self-conscious of the mask that he wore. Their eyes locked as Raoul was pulled halfway onto the catwalk. Raoul struggled to lift his leg up. Their gazes had to break so that Erik could loop one arm around Raoul's waist to pull him up completely.
Erik didn't release the hold around Raoul's waist even though they were both safely on the catwalk. In fact, Erik rolled onto his back, pulling Raoul on top of him, clinging to him without really realizing it. The only thing that mattered was that Raoul was alright. His heart was pounding. Eyes closing, he was just glad to be able to physically confirm that Raoul was alright. Raoul was safe. He held on tighter, one hand wrapping behind Raoul's neck to complete the hug.
He didn't know what he would have done if he had lost him. He was ready to give Raoul anything, told himself that if he did just that, then maybe, he would be able to keep Raoul at his side. That one main tenet meant everything to him. How could he have almost forgotten it? His anger at the kidnapper had almost made him completely lose sight of Raoul, had almost made him lose his brat. Never again. He told himself. Never again would he let Raoul or his desires take second precedence.
Raoul had grabbed onto the ghost's shoulder when he'd been helped, but now found himself in a rather awkward, for him, embrace with the ghost. His face was nestled between the juncture of the ghost's neck and shoulder. This was even more embarrassing than the mausoleum; this was even closer, and Raoul hadn't thought that possible.
With Erik laughing in his head, he wondered why this didn't feel wholly unfamiliar. The rush of blood to his cheeks and the unsteady heartbeat, he found, were rather unrelated to his brush with death. However, he didn't have the heart to struggle having seen the look of relief on the ghost's face.
He cares about you, you know? Erik asked.
Apparently. Raoul replied. You care about me, too. Should I be surprised?
He could sense Erik's amusement as he responded. No. You shouldn't. I was your fiancé for a time, remember?
Raoul refused to answer that, knowing it for the trap it was. Instead, he began to extract himself from the ghost's grasp, clearing his throat. The ghost's eyes opened immediately. Realizing that he was actually clinging to Raoul, he released him. Raoul dropped to the catwalk as the ghost hastily stood up.
Erik was glad for the mask since it hid what he suspected was a blush. Extending a hand to help Raoul stand up, Erik gruffly ordered, "Let's go."
Raoul took the proffered hand. He was about to follow the ghost when he remembered that Firmin was still hanging.
"Wait. What about Firmin?"
Erik looked back at him in surprise, glancing over the edge of the catwalk to disdainfully consider the manager before looking back at Raoul. Well, that would surely explain why Raoul was on the catwalk; Erik hadn't even thought of it. But now that he did have a moment to think of something other than Raoul possibly dying, what was Raoul doing here at all? His eyes narrowed. Raoul was supposed to wait at the estate for him, not put himself in further danger by coming to the opera house.
"You want to help him?" Erik scoffed; honestly, he wasn't that surprised that Raoul would want to do such a thing.
Raoul nodded, taken aback by the sudden change in attitude. The ghost had been rather… he couldn't actually say nice, but it definitely hadn't been as cold as now.
Rather pleased with you being in the opera house of course. Erik supplied.
Oh. He'd forgotten about that fact. Well, how do we make him unmad? We need to help Firmin.
I don't think it can be done.
Frowning, Raoul knew Erik was lying.
The ghost turned away with every intention to leave Firmin. If Raoul didn't follow him, then he would simply drag the brat away.
"Wait," Raoul called again, this time grabbing onto the ghost's arm. Wide eyes pleading, Raoul bit his bottom lip. "Please. For me?"
That's cheating! Erik cried out.
Erik looked from the hand gripping his arm to the expression, his main tenet on repeat in his head. He knew that logically, he should ignore it; Raoul's honour was more important than his naïve compassion towards others. Logically, he knew it, but Raoul looked at him so trustingly, hopefully – and no man his age, Erik thought, should be able to look that innocent; he could swear he heard the sound of his own resolve crashing down. Keeping his angry expression was more difficult than he'd ever thought possible. Stepping past Raoul towards the ropes, one of which held Firmin, Erik shrugged Raoul's hand from his arm, so that he could have some semblance of clear thought. In one smooth motion, Erik drew his sword and swung through several ropes. Sandbags fell as well as Firmin. Shocked, Raoul looked over the edge, wondering if the man had survived the fall.
"He was too close to the ground to die," Erik muttered, turning around and striding past Raoul who stared down at Firmin.
Firmin let out a yell as he fell. He'd been watching the ghost and the Vicomte with avid interest. There was something between them; he just wasn't sure what it was. He didn't particularly care as long as the Vicomte convinced the ghost to spare his life. However, he was unprepared to fall the few feet to the ground. Landing sideways, he felt his knee pop and shift. He let out a shocked gasp before screaming properly. Enough to garner everyone's attention, except for the ghost.
Erik glanced over his shoulder at Raoul to see if he was still watching the manager. He was. He turned his attention to the kidnapper, who hadn't moved since he'd left to help Raoul.
"I think he broke his leg," Raoul commented, tilting his head in hopes of getting a better view of Firmin.
He deserves it. Erik stated.
Raoul didn't see the point in arguing. He kind of agreed.
Staring between Raoul and the kidnapper, Erik made his decision and took the few steps away from Raoul to reach the man. Before Raoul could turn around and give him those eyes again, Erik quickly kicked the kidnapper over the edge of the catwalk. The kidnapper went with a yell and a thud.
Raoul turned around at the noise, but the ghost was still right beside him. He didn't know what he was expecting, maybe the ghost smirking while leaning over the edge of the catwalk or something.
The ghost only gave him a questioning glance before grabbing his hand. Raoul started at the touch but didn't try to take his hand back.
"Let's go." Erik started walking.
Glancing past the ghost, Raoul asked, "Where's the kidnapper?"
I wonder… Erik was laughing raucously; Raoul could barely think.
The ghost didn't pause in his stride, "What?"
Raoul tightened the grip on his hand and refused to take another step. He gave the ghost a suspicious glance before looking over the edge. Sure enough, the kidnapper's body was further back from the area where Firmin had fallen. He wasn't moving and his head was at an odd angle. Raoul turned to the ghost for an explanation; Erik just shrugged before dragging Raoul towards the rope they could use to slide down to the stage.
I am brilliant.
Raoul thought Erik sounded a bit too pleased with himself.
You did say that you didn't care if he died. Erik noted.
Raoul winced, That seems a bit cruel.
Keeping you locked in a mausoleum during a cold winter night is cruel. Erik scoffed. Pushing a man off the catwalk to plummet to his death rather pales in comparison.
He did it without a second thought. Raoul would've liked to agree, but it still felt wrong. It wasn't even self-defense.
Erik pointed out. He was defending you… if he did it at all of course. The man could've fallen off himself.
Raoul rolled his eyes at that last statement.
The second that they were both on the ground, the ghost grabbed Raoul's hand again. Raoul tried to shrug him off this time.
"I'm not a child."
"Yes, a child would know when to run, when to stay home." Erik shot back.
Glaring at him for a second, Raoul didn't feel like having another argument just now. He turned his attention to Philippe, moving in front of the ghost so that their hands would at least be hidden. This position had the added benefit of hiding his face from the ghost.
Why are you holding my hand? Raoul asked, tensely.
Erik gave him a mental shrug. You're my fiancé?
This is not the time for jokes.
Maybe he wants to make sure you don't do anything stupid. Erik suggested. That's what I would do.
I'm not going to do anything stupid. Raoul defended himself.
Well, then something imprudent.
Like what?
I don't know. Climb into a carriage sent by an evil Comte. Climb onto a catwalk. Erik said louder when Raoul was about to interrupt. Interrupt the fight between your brother and the Comte.
Raoul was silent. He did want tostop the fight, especially when he saw Philippe favouring one side and the Comte currently unharmed. We need to stop this. Philippe's hurt.
Philippe probably doesn't even realize it. Erik noted. Let him fight.
Raoul took a step forward, "Brother."
The ghost's hand tightened in his, preventing him from going any further.
o.o.o
At the lull caused by Firmin's fall, followed subsequently by the kidnapper's, the Comte realized there really was no way he could fight the Vicomte's brother unarmed as he was. In fact, he didn't have any qualms with the Comte de Chagny or the Chagny's at all. He did however have problems with Firmin and Carlotta.
"Brother."
Philippe glanced back. Raoul was glaring at Erik for some reason. He let out a sigh of relief at seeing them safe. There was some blood on Raoul's shirt, but it didn't look to be his own. He turned around quickly when he heard the Comte moving.
This break was not good for him. He could ignore the pain for only so long and with all the lunging and moving he'd been doing, he wasn't sure if he could actually kill the man. He told himself that he just needed a second wind though. He no longer had to worry about his brother and the Comte was unarmed; he had to be able to kill him.
The Comte glanced over to Firmin. The man was still alive, but not very mobile. He'd seen the awkward way the man had fallen and the scream that had followed the impact had been indication enough that something was broken. Carlotta didn't seem like she could move very quickly either. No one crossed the Comte de Montmartre and lived to tell about it.
There was no point wasting his time with the Vicomte and the other two any longer. Backing up until he reached the curtains, the Comte held out the fire so that it would catch.
Philippe tried to rush forward to stop him but was too late.
The flame raced up the curtain. The Comte tossed the rope across the stage onto the four-post bed. Finding a still clear portion of the curtain, he yanked it down. He waited only a moment to watch it fall towards the center of the stage.
Raoul pulled free from the ghost's grasp to run towards Philippe who was in the direct path of the curtain. Philippe backpedaled, tripping.
"Philippe!" Philippe! Raoul called out, hearing the echo of Erik's call in his mind.
Raoul caught him and with the help of the ghost, who had been right behind him, dragged him out of the way. The curtain and flames fluttered to the ground in a burst of reds and oranges creating a divide between them and Firmin, Carlotta, and the Comte.
Firmin and Carlotta were both screaming and cursing. Firmin was rather unsuccessfully trying to wriggle out of his ropes, while Carlotta had rolled onto her stomach and was using her chin to leverage herself onto her knees. The bed beside her was already ablaze and getting ever closer to her. Through the fire, they could just make out the Comte running away.
Philippe and Erik shared a look. They stated at the same time, "I'll get him. You get Raoul to safety."
That's a little disturbing. Erik noted.
"No one's going to get him," Raoul crossed his arms, but the two were still staring at each other, ignoring him completely. With narrowed eyes, they dared each other to back down.
Philippe glanced at his brother; he knew that Erik had a particular weakness for him and now that he had his second wind finally, he wasn't above using that to his advantage. With a smirk, he turned towards Erik, "I'm trusting you with my brother. Make sure he gets out safely."
"Brother!" Raoul called, but Philippe was deaf to his call.
Philippe ran past them, finding a break in the fire that wasn't burning as strongly to jump through in pursuit of the Comte. He wasn't quite sure where he was going, but he'd find a way to catch up. He needed to kill the Comte. Erik, on the other hand, would certainly know the quickest way out of the opera house. The fire was getting out of hand.
Erik caught sight of movement besides Philippe's as he ran away from them; his eyes narrowed with suspicion. He shrugged it off when the fire blazed stronger for a moment as more of the props and scenery caught fire. He stared at the crimson destruction and knew there would be nothing that could save the stage, and once the stage was done, the seats would be next, then the hallways. It would continue, but he couldn't mourn the loss. He shook his head, tearing his gaze away from the fire; he wasn't losing anything. Grabbing Raoul's hand firmly again, he tugged the blonde away from the fire. "Let's go."
Raoul had watched Philippe go with disdain. He wasn't about to be ignored again, "We aren't leaving them."
Just listen to him. Will you? Erik begged. Don't be difficult.
The fire was getting dangerously closer. The other curtain caught fire.
"I said 'Let's go,'" Erik stated firmly. This wasn't the time for compassion. He needed to get Raoul out of the opera house. There were simply too many things that would catch fire and sooner than not, they would be trapped.
"Firmin and Carlotta need help," Raoul was adamant.
Erik looked at the fire, remembering what he saw. "Andre's there."
Raoul did a double take at the ghost. He tried to peer through the fire to see anything, but between the smoke and the flickering tongues of flame, he couldn't see anything. He could only feel the heat as it drew ever closer. There would be no way to stop it now. "Liar."
Let's just go, Raoul. We have everyone… sort of. Erik pleaded. I think leaving would be the best idea.
"I wouldn't lie to you," Erik stated firmly. His grip on Raoul's hand tightened.
Scoffing, Raoul shook his head, "We're not even going to have that conversation right now." He tried to reclaim his hand and head towards Firmin, but the ghost held firm, refusing to budge.
"Why don't you want to help them?" Raoul took several steps away from the flame.
Erik pulled him further when a wooden set piece fell down, sending up a shower of burning debris. He turned them, grabbing Raoul close so as to protect him from being burned. Raoul had flinched from the crash and before he could even react, he found himself wrapped in the ghost's embrace once more.
That's getting to be a habit. Erik noted, smug.
He's too quick. I barely know how to react. Raoul tried to push the ghost away, but Erik held on.
"Why don't you understand I need you to be safe?" Erik's whispered confession sounded desperate. His mouth had been right by Raoul's ear.
Raoul froze as the intimacy of their position and the words overwhelmed him momentarily. In the silence, besides the crackling of the fire, he heard Carlotta scream. Erik let him go then, even let his hand go. Raoul made sure to keep some distance between them as he stepped away.
Let's go, Raoul. Erik tried to coax. He could feel Raoul beginning to wonder if he should just leave the two.
The blonde looked at the ghost uncertainly; Erik thought he was going to concede.
Instead, Raoul gasped, blurting out. "Christine and Meg."
"What?" The ghost shook his head in frustration. He cursed silently to himself. Why couldn't Raoul understand how no one else mattered but him? Nothing mattered but his safety. That main tenet was trying to force itself to the forefront of his mind, but Erik was managing to keep it at bay. Not right now.
"They're still inside the building," Raoul said frantically, "They're waiting for Madame Giry."
Shrugging, Erik shook his head. He didn't even look torn, which surprised Raoul. "Let's go."
You heard him. He doesn't care. Erik knew that wouldn't deter Raoul, so he tried another method. Don't you think they'd be smart enough to leave the opera house when they see the fire?
"This is Christine!" Raoul shouted. He flinched when a piece of burning cloth floated towards him. Erik pulled him closer again and dragged Raoul away from the stage. Raoul struggled, knocking himself loose.
"You get the girls." Raoul did the only thing he could think of in a dire situation. He looked at Erik with wide eyes, pleading with him once again. "For me?"
Erik tried to look away, he really did. He managed for a second before his promise to do anything for Raoul forced him to look back. He needed to look away, but Raoul was holding onto his biceps and the look on his face was simply too much. Were those tears at the corner of his eyes?
"You're coming with me." He stated.
"I'll meet you outside." Raoul said, and suddenly the tears were gone.
That's not fair.
"No," the ghost was adamant.
"Yes. Either you go or we all die right now." Raoul glanced towards the ever-approaching flames.
"Now's not the time to argue."
"My point exactly. Now go," Raoul pushed the ghost away. "I'll see you outside. I promise."
Erik didn't move.
"I said I promise, right?" Raoul grabbed his hand in a rush, forcing them into a pinky swear. "We've both made promises. I need you to do this for me."
Still torn, Erik took off running. Yelling curses along the way, he told himself that he could quickly make sure Christine and Meg left before returning to Raoul, who he was certain would help Firmin and Carlotta.
o.o.o
Andre had waited in the wings of the stage watching everything. He saw the two Comtes fighting each other. Sneaking forward, he grabbed the dagger when their attentions were focused solely on themselves. He didn't want to become another victim, especially after seeing Firmin plummet to the ground and scream in agony as his leg bent awkwardly or when the ghost pushed the other man from the catwalk. There had been a sickening crunch when the man connected to the ground.
He was tempted to run away, but he couldn't just leave Firmin like that. He wondered where the police he had called were. The Comte would get away if they took any longer and so would the ghost. Though, admittedly, he rather hoped the Comte would lose. A ghost was surprisingly easier to deal with than the Comte de Montmartre.
When the curtain fell and the Comte ran away, he tried to put out the fire, but too much of the curtain had already caught fire. Abandoning that idea, he ran towards Firmin. Thankfully, he wasn't noticed when the Vicomte's brother ran right past him. He thought for certain that he would have been seen, but the man had been focused on catching up to the Comte.
"Firmin," he bent towards his partner.
"Andre, my leg," Firmin gasped in pain even while he tried to squirm out of the ropes. "Get these damn ropes off me."
Andre cut the ropes and lifted his skirt to look at the leg.
"Don't gawk," Firmin yelled, "Just help me up."
Andre didn't question, especially when he felt as though he was being cooked alive. He helped Firmin stand up, who began to hobble away. "What about Carlotta?" Andre glanced in her direction. She stared at them.
With a shake of his head, Firmin said, "Leave her."
Carlotta screamed in response.
Andre looked uncertain. Firmin knew he wouldn't be able to get far without Andre's help, so he conceded.
"Fine, get her and let's go before we burn."
Andre cut her free, and though indignant, she did help him support Firmin towards the back exit. The path was almost cut off from the fire, but the falling scenery had actually created something of a pathway still.
o.o.o
I can't believe we're still here. Erik groused.
Raoul hesitated when confronted with the flames. The stage wasn't faring too well, but it was the furniture and the curtains around him that had fully caught ablaze and was showering him with burning debris. He ignored the pain and focused on getting to Firmin and Carlotta. They were probably scared out of their minds, tied up, and surrounded by fire.
That's a horrible way to die. Raoul stated.
There was no longer a clear path to them. The curtain was burning strongly, creating a great divide. And it was spreading, towards the front of the stage and around him so that soon he would not have anywhere to run.
Taking a deep breath, Raoul ran towards the fire and jumped through it. He screamed when he felt the sudden onslaught of heat on his skin. The landing left much to be desired as he tumbled on the ground. He nearly crashed into the then blazing four post bed, the flames on the sheets reaching out to burn him.
Getting up, he felt a little dizzy from the fire and the smoke. His eyes teared, but he forced himself to squint through the smoke and search for Firmin and Carlotta.
He rushed forward and looked around but they were nowhere to be found. The only thing he saw was the body of the kidnapper, and he was rather certain that man was dead.
Finally, someone you don't want to save. Erik blithely commented.
Raoul frowned. Where are they?
Apparently, I wasn't lying to you.
Raoul took a step forward; his knee buckled. I feel kind of dizzy.
'Let's go' then. Erik said pointedly.
Yeah, give me a second. Raoul was on both his hands and knees trying to catch his breath. It's so hot.
Better than cold, right? Erik tried to joke though he was getting worried. It's time to go.
Coughing, Raoul struggled to stand up. He raised his arm to cover his face, trying to protect it from the intense heat. He dropped to the floor.
o.o.o
Philippe was lost. He was certain that he had seen the Comte run this way, but with so many hallways, he couldn't keep track of him. He had been turned around several times already. When the air became thicker, he knew that he was heading towards the stage again. He didn't even know how that happened.
He hesitated. Maybe the Comte had gone back towards the stage. He could go there, and even if the Comte hadn't gone back, maybe he could at least start over again.
Cursing, he turned around and headed away from the stage. That would be a stupid idea to go back; there was nothing there but fire.
Maybe he could find his way out of the opera house and wait for the Comte out there. There was no doubt that the man would have to leave the building eventually. He only hoped that he was on the right side of the building when the man did leave.
o.o.o
Raoul! Raoul!
"Huh?" Raoul looked up. He winced, covering his face when the flames seemed to come closer. What happened?
You fainted for a second. Erik explained. Get up and let's go.
You keep saying that. Raoul struggled to stand up.
He teetered on his feet and almost fell over when someone grabbed him, supporting him. He tried to open his eyes to see who it was, but they were tearing too much to be of any use. He coughed and tried to right himself. His arm was slung over a shoulder and they hobbled off the stage, towards a side exit of the opera house.
o.o.o.o
End Chapter 26
Word count: 5,648
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A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!
Chapter review: How many times has Raoul lost consciousness in this fic? Enough to be a drinking game. I was going to end the chapter not knowing if Raoul's safe, so this is infinitely better, right? Even if you don't know who came back to take him. That's got to be something. And you saw the Erik OOC-ness as well, right? How he was convinced of leaving Raoul was beyond me; it had to be done.
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. :)