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: lol, this one's a little longer, but not by much. Stuff happens though.

Story Note: Raoul's so stubborn (or stupid, big difference when he keeps putting himself in danger). Maybe the heat of his fever has gone to his head.

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Imaginary Friends

Chapter 29 – Intentions

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By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

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Last time: Raoul remembers. We had a little fluff with that flashback. Raoul's uber sick (but it's not that surprising, he's been out gallivanting even though he'd been feeling unwell to start with. That plus smoke inhalation and the cold weather equals plain badness). Madame Giry is adamant to 'save' Raoul from Erik.

o.o.o

Andre stared at his hands. He couldn't believe that he had been forced to lie that much in less than an hour. He glanced over at Firmin who was staring across the room, more in displeasure than anything else even though they had just successfully pinned everything that had occurred in the opera house on the Comte. Admittedly, except for the part where Firmin was still in a dress and had been displayed for all to see hanging from the stage, everything had been the Comte's fault.

Well, at least, the fire had been started by the Comte and currently, that was the only thing that mattered. Andre knew that much of everything else had been their fault. Had they not plotted against the Vicomte, then perhaps things would have turned out differently. From what he'd seen between the Vicomte and the opera ghost, Raoul might have been able to save them from the worst of the ghost's attacks. Certainly, the opera house would not have been completely destroyed.

It was too late for that now though.

"We're ruined," Andre whispered more to himself, but his words caught the attention of Firmin.

Firmin slouched forward. "I don't see how we'll be able to rebuild."

"It's impossible," Andre bowed his head, shutting his eyes.

"This isn't my fault!" The Comte's voice carried through the police station. Carlotta shouted something in return, but the words had been lost when her voice shrieked. She was currently flirting with one of the police officers; apparently, one of them was quite a fan.

Firmin raised his eyebrow at the sight of the prima donna. He sighed, finding a silver lining in everything that had happened, "That's alright. We still have the junk business."

"Scrap metal," Andre corrected, but nodded in agreement.

o.o.o

Erik swung the front door of the Changy estate open, yelling "Raoul" in the process. His eyes searched desperately, hoping against hope that the familiar blonde would appear. He hoped that Raoul would walk down the stairs or through the doorway and ask why he was yelling. Raoul wasn't there though.

Philippe, on the other hand, was in front of him in a second though obviously favoring one side of his body. His eyes were wide and he asked the question he already knew the answer to, "You couldn't find him?"

Erik shook his head and turned around to shut the door to hide his disappointment and frustration. He closed the door gently and let out a scream that seemed to echo in the house. He'd lost Raoul again. After everything, he'd actually believed that things would be fine. He'd been stupid to leave Raoul alone. So stupid.

Philippe looked at Erik's back and bit his lower lip. He was worried about Raoul, but he knew that whatever had happened this time, Raoul had promised them that he would return. Raoul never broke his promises; he'd known that since they were just children. Knowing his brother's luck though, something had happened that was beyond his control.

Philippe believed that all they needed to do was give Raoul some time and he would find his way home. It wouldn't hurt to go looking for him though. On the other hand, Erik didn't have that same sort of faith in Raoul. Philippe heard it in his anguish. He saw it in the desperation in his eyes. Almost smiling, he knew that Erik would eventually learn that about his brother, he never broke his promises.

He frowned, wondering for a moment what he was thinking. He had offered Erik a place to stay with them, but he still wasn't sure about that decision, wasn't sure how to react to a ghost from their past. However, instead of allowing his thoughts to linger on the future, he focused on finding Raoul before anything else happened.

"I went through the crowd that had gathered outside the opera house. Most of the employees of the opera house were there," Philippe recounted, hoping that if he kept calm, Erik would calm down himself, "No one recognized me and the managers and Carlotta were taken down to the police station."

At the mention of the police station, Erik turned around, leaning heavily on the door as though he hadn't enough energy to keep himself up. Philippe took a closer look at him and noticed the soot that covered not only his mask but also his face and hands. The man's clothes were singed and he was certain he could see some skin that had to have been burned by that fire. Philippe didn't bother to ask. They'd patch him up later; he didn't think Erik would appreciate the distraction. The only thing that mattered was that he was standing, not bleeding to death, and completely alert.

"The police?" He asked.

"I do believe they have blamed everything on the Comte."

"Everything is the Comte's fault," Erik retorted. He didn't think prison was a harsh enough punishment for the Comte, but it would do for now. Raoul was more important than getting his revenge. He'd been reminded of that fact when he almost let Raoul fall from the catwalk. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice; he mentally added not letting Raoul coax him into doing anything he didn't want to do with that look of his on his list of things he wouldn't allow a second time.

Philippe didn't argue that point. "I asked a few people if they noticed anyone in particular was missing," he shrugged, explaining at Erik's questioning gaze, "The only person truly available to help or harm Raoul had to be in the opera house at the time. Everyone seemed to have left but that doesn't mean someone couldn't have stayed behind or returned."

Erik nodded.

"It seems that everyone was accounted for with the exception of Christine, the ballet dancer, and a Madame Giry." He added, "But you helped the other two and if Madame Giry is the blonde's mother, then I saw them meet at the side of the opera house before leaving. I think a Monsieur Reyer told me to inform the managers she took a carriage west."

"He told you to inform the managers?" Erik asked.

"I had to tell them something," Philippe rolled his eyes, "I was a messenger from the managers."

Erik couldn't help but smirk imagining Raoul's brother lying to get information. It seemed incongruous with what he thought of the Chagnys, or perhaps it was because he couldn't imagine Raoul doing anything remotely similar.

"Other than her, I do believe that everyone was accounted for. Do you think that someone else might have taken him? Someone from the audience?" Philippe was grasping at straws, but he couldn't think of anything else that had seemed off. Once he had talked to almost everyone and searched the nearby streets just in case Raoul had managed to get out, he'd returned home disheartened but hoping that Raoul was there already. He'd actually entered the house in a similar fashion as Erik had – possibly less forceful since his side was bothering him. Worry and fear were good motivators to rise above the pain, though now that they had nothing left to do, he was feeling worse by the second.

"He had to have made it outside," Erik said, staring at the floor, trying to process everything Philippe had told him. The calm manner in which Philippe spoke reminded him that there was currently no point in getting angry. He didn't know with whom he should be angry and while he was prepared to tear apart Paris to find Raoul, his method would take too much time. There had to be something they had missed. "The opera house was empty. There was nothing and no one in there."

Erik kept his explanation short. He didn't relay how he'd barely been able to get through the fire or how some of his tunnels were ruined. He didn't mention that he'd almost died when he saw a body lying on the floor of the stage on fire. He'd run through the blaze, unthinking of his own safety and jerked the body away from the flames and put him out. The smell of burning flesh was still stuck in his nose, but at the sight of the man's broken neck and clothes, he knew that it was the kidnapper.

His throat tightened at the mere memory of thinking it had been Raoul on fire. His eyes had teared and it had nothing to do with the smoke. He'd barely made it out of the opera house again. He had found the entrance nearest to the stage open though. He narrowed his eyes. He'd figured that Raoul had managed to make it outside using that very door. There had been footprints, but he hadn't been able to truly discern anything with all the ash falling down. Something was bothering him though. If someone helped Raoul out of the opera house, then they should have been seen leaving, not just the opera house but the area. All eyes had been on the building, someone had to have seen them. Raoul wouldn't go without a fight – Erik hoped. Unless, he wasn't conscious. But to take an unconscious man away would require a carriage.

He couldn't be certain, but it was the only lead they had. He was about to leave when he remembered that a second pair of eyes would be helpful. "Let's go."

Philippe looked at him in confusion. "Go where?"

"We need to go back to the opera house," Erik opened the door, not willing to wait very long for Raoul's brother to keep up, "My horse is right outside. Where's yours?"

Before Erik could make it out the door, Philippe grabbed his arm. He didn't bother asking what the man was thinking, seeing his haste, but he knew one thing was certain, "We're taking a carriage."

Erik scoffed and shrugged off Philippe's hand. "A carriage is too slow." He looked down to where Philippe's wound was. "You take it."

"It's cold out and we are not separating again," Philippe replied. He tried to reason, "You'll get sick if you keep riding out in that weather and where do you think Raoul will ride when we do find him?"

Erik had winced when Philippe had mentioned his own health. It was odd hearing someone worry about him, especially when he personally didn't care about it himself. Even if he did become ill, having Raoul back was more important. The only reason he relented was because Philippe had a point about how they would bring Raoul back when they found him.

Before Erik could respond, Philippe had called for their covered carriage to be brought out to the front. Before he finished his request, the carriage had already pulled to the front.

"Bring him back" was the only thing the butler said who had suddenly appeared. He handed them a pile of thicker coats and several blankets. Both Erik and Philippe stared at him in something close to awe before accepting the extra clothing. They rushed out to the carriage. Erik yelled out, "To the Opera Populaire. Take a back route. Do not be seen."

In the carriage, as they were removing their damp clothing to put on the dryer coats, Philippe asked, "So why are we returning to the opera house?"

"Madame Giry," Erik replied shortly.

Philippe waited for more, but when he realized that Erik was more focused on removing his fire-ruined clothing than elaborating, he said, "That's not really an answer."

Erik paused in trying to clean his wounds. "She's the only one who could have taken Raoul," he answered, annoyance in his voice. He didn't need the aggravation of having to explain everything. Though admittedly, Philippe had been doing a good job of not annoying him, which was downright surprising; he figured it must be a Chagny trait.

Philippe couldn't help but ask the obvious question, "What purpose would she have to take Raoul?"

Erik scoffed and opened his mouth to reply when he came up blank. He had no idea why Madame Giry would take Raoul. She would have helped him, but anything more was questionable. Raoul should have been with them by now. He reluctantly admitted aloud and almost dared Philippe to question him, "I don't know."

Philippe didn't reply, only looked through the coats putting several aside for Raoul. It almost eased Erik's worries to see him doing so. It meant that Philippe didn't doubt that they'd find Raoul. He had his doubts that they'd be able to find him.

They came up to the opera house from the back. The fire was still burning but it was dying down now. The people had dispersed; it was too cold even with the heat of the fire to stay in the snow for much time. It was just beginning to snow again and they were certain the fire would burn itself out before becoming a danger. Erik directed the driver to move to the side where he had found the exit. Jumping out before the carriage even stopped, Erik brushed aside the ash that had gathered by the door.

Footprints.

Philippe followed him once the carriage came to a complete stop. He looked at the footprints and they followed them to carriage tracks.

"West?" Erik followed the track as far as his eyes could follow. The snow would ruin whatever chances of retracing their steps. However, if they had a general direction, they might have a chance to follow.

Philippe was already walking back to the carriage as he responded, "That's what the man said. Something about getting away."

As Erik entered the carriage, he felt that he should mention, "We can cover more ground if we split up."

Philippe was adamantly against that idea. Splitting up only served to make finding people more difficult. He couldn't lose Erik now that he'd found him. That would be difficult to explain to Raoul. "We're going together."

Erik didn't actually believe he would have been able to convince Raoul's brother to split up. He couldn't help but feel like they weren't doing enough though. He muttered to himself, "We don't know what state Raoul's in. For him to have been taken means that he can't be doing well." He's alright though, he reassured himself mentally.

Philippe told the driver to go west but follow the tracks as well as he could in the mean time. He caught a bit of what Erik had said. As the carriage moved forward, he wondered if he should inform Erik what to expect when they found Raoul. He had a feeling he knew why Raoul hadn't made it back to them. His brother was too stubborn some times.

He commented, "He'd been ill already."

"He was sick?" Erik looked at him in disbelief, "And you let him come to the opera house?"

Philippe laughed. "I didn't let him do anything. He rather decides these things on his own."

o.o.o

The three women and Raoul all jerked when the carriage suddenly stopped.

Madame Giry had stopped them for Raoul, but she insisted, "You can't go outside. It's snowing."

Unsure what to do, Christine and Meg watched Raoul as he bent over, still grabbing the front of his shirt.

Erik. It's hot. Raoul whimpered aloud. He didn't care if it was snowing. In fact, at the moment, it seemed like a very good idea to go outside. He needed the cold, needed the numbness. Anything but this heat that he felt was choking him.

Stay in the carriage, Raoul. Just as Erik said the words, Raoul flung the door open and himself out of the carriage. Not landing properly, he fell onto his side, sliding a bit before coming to a halt. He placed his hands in the snow. The cold was biting; it felt as though the ice were burning his hands. He looked up at the sky and for a second watched the snow fall. It wasn't too dark and he knew the sun would be rising.

Forcing himself to his feet even though it was more difficult than he would have liked to admit, he ran in the opposite direction that the carriage had been going. He needed to get back home. He needed to find his brother. He needed to find Erik.

The three women followed him a short distance away. It was difficult to run through the snow, but Raoul was intent on getting away from them. He was intent to run back to Paris.

Raoul didn't bother looking back. He hadn't been able to bear looking at Christine. He'd ruined her life. He'd ruined their life together, hers and Erik's. When he made it home, he'd be able to tell Erik where to find her. It shouldn't be too difficult for the famed opera ghost to find his ingénue.

He could see his breath in the air. The cold filled his lungs, making him cough. He was shivering but he still felt hot.

Stop running, Raoul. Erik urged. You're sick. You aren't thinking straight.

I can't stop. Raoul replied. He could hear the desperation of his thoughts. I need to get back. Everything will be better when I'm back home.

Erik paused for a moment. He knew that arguing with Raoul when he was sick wasn't prudent and confronting him would only make matters worse, but he knew he had to. It won't erase your past.

I don't want… Raoul let out a heaving sob. I don't want to remember anymore.

Erik's response was immediate and just as desperate as Raoul's own. Don't say that. Please, don't say that. Do you want to forget me?

I don't want to feel like this anymore. Raoul didn't know how he could stand the guilt, didn't know how he had done so when he'd just been a child. But he knew now that he'd betrayed Erik. He'd left him for dead.

But I'm not dead, Erik asserted. You were a child. You couldn't have done anything else.

It hurts. Raoul couldn't put into words why having those memories back caused so much pain. He thought that the hole in him that had been that lack of knowing his past would be filled with remembering, but accompanied to those memories was a gnawing guilt. It felt as though an animal were trapped within him trying to claw its way out.

He didn't even know why it hurt, didn't know why he felt so guilty. A part of him knew that he had just been a child. What could he have done? But the guilt was that of a child too. He couldn't reason it away, and right now, he didn't even have the strength to try.

I don't know how I'm ever going to face him. Raoul admitted before tripping over his own feet and falling to the ground.

o.o.o

"I told you that we should've split up," Erik groused as they sat in the carriage. He pulled the blanket more securely around himself. The snow was beginning to fall faster. If he was cold, he wondered how well Philippe had to be doing. However, Raoul's brother hadn't complained once about the cold.

They'd been traveling through the night. They'd stopped at two small villages and searched only to find no sign of Raoul. Each time Erik found that he couldn't help but complain aloud. It was different having someone there alongside him that he almost trusted, that was suffering along with him. He grudgingly accepted Philippe's presence and found that no matter what he said, Philippe would only nod and calmly reply. It was baffling really, but Erik had always known verbalizing his frustrations helped when he couldn't break something. This was the first time however that someone else was actually listening.

"We're going west," Philippe calmly replied. He'd realized that Erik didn't need an argument when he complained. The best reaction was to calmly respond. It was almost amusing. Erik was worried. Not to say that he wasn't either, but the thought that Raoul had been kidnapped by three women for no apparent reason didn't seem to be a dangerous situation. He knew he wouldn't mind being kidnapped by three women, preferably all young though. If the Comte had managed to take Raoul, he would have been just as worried as Erik, if not more so. This was different though; he was more confused than frantic. "We'll catch up eventually."

Erik hmph'd.

"So, what happened after?" Philippe asked. It would be a while before the next village. The driver had said it was a city. A city meant a harder time finding Raoul when they did stop.

"After what?" Erik asked even though he knew what Philippe was referring to. He tried to look menacing, enough so that Philippe would drop the subject, but it seemed to have no effect on him. Erik blamed it on the fact that he was too worried and too tired to exude the threat of violence he usually could. He hadn't slept for almost a whole day. Or it could be the fact that he knew he couldn't hurt Philippe. He was Raoul's brother, which for the moment seemed to mean he'd been given a temporary exemption from injury. After all, two people searching for Raoul was better than one.

Philippe laughed and pulled the coat tighter around himself. He knew an evasion when he heard one and decided a change in tactics were in order. "Perhaps it is best if we start over again." He realized that he'd never truly been introduced to this man. Their first meeting had given Philippe nightmares, and their second meeting had scarred Raoul for life. Starting over was the best plan, and maybe then he'd be able to figure out what they were going to do about their living situation. He extended his hand and looked Erik straight in the eyes, ignoring the mask. "I am Philippe."

Erik stared at him suspiciously. Philippe's kindness was off-putting. While Erik could understand Raoul's, he couldn't fathom why Philippe would treat him kindly. He was wary but willing to tempt fate for Raoul. It would be inevitable that Philippe be in his life if he hoped to keep Raoul with him without further kidnapping plans. He reached across and shook Philippe's hand. Both of their hands were frigid. "I am Erik."

Philippe nodded. This possibly wasn't the best topic to start with but he said it regardless, "I saw you once before you even met Raoul."

Eyes widening, Erik easily remembered his master speaking about the Comte and his family at the carnival. It had been Philippe who had been seen.

"I've never been able to thank you for taking care of Raoul," Philippe admitted. Erik was about to respond, when Philippe continued earnestly, "Thank you for returning my brother."

Erik was speechless. No one had ever looked him in the eyes and said those words to him meaning it. He didn't know what to say.

Philippe was pleased by Erik's response. He'd seen Erik act like the ghost in all his glory. He'd heard the man's voice command an audience to leave a theatre and threaten violence with every intention to carry out his threat. He'd seen the man humiliate a manager and murder a kidnapper after having brutally beat him up. He'd heard the rumours about the ghost, heard of the kidnapping of the prima donna. All of it was enough to make him worry, but there was the person Raoul had truly loved as a child all those years ago. Philippe saw glimpses of what he must have been like when Erik was around Raoul. They would obviously be good for each other.

The next words should never have had to leave his mouth, but he spoke them anyway. "What are your intentions towards my brother?"

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End Chapter 29

Word count: 3,982

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

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Chapter review: Well, Madame Giry and the girls will have a hard time bringing Raoul back to the carriage, but man, I feel sort of bad for Erik with that ending.

You know what… no need to vote anymore. I know who the winner's going to be. Imaginary Friends continuation will definitely be following when this finally ends. You'd think I don't want them together with the rate this is going.