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

Summary: ErikRaoul slash (finally). Story continuation of A Mask for All Occasions.

Warning(s): violence

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Story note: Just so you guys know. I did not kill Raoul in the last chapter… sort of. Well, he's not dead in the way you're thinking. --

Oh, this chapter is part songfic. I did not bother to separate Christine's and Erik's parts but if you cannot figure it out, I'm ashamed of you. Your punishment will be to listen to the POTO soundtrack (must be the OLC-original London cast- one because I hate the newer one) 10 times. Then, I'll forgive you.

o.o.o.o

Unmasking the Chains

Chapter 18

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Erik's POV

o.o.o

Last time:

As I did every night, I was watching Raoul sleep on the morn of the seventh day when I saw a hooded figure enter Christine's room. I slipped through the passages in time to see that it was the Comte. Christine had a single candle burning, but I was certain that it was he. They shared whispered words.

The Comte hugged her gently, "Let's go."

Christine looked a little reluctant, "Are you certain we should?"

"I've asked you everyday this week for us to go, and you've kept putting it off."

I wondered when they had had the opportunity to talk. It was true that I was distracted by Raoul most of the time, but I had thought I would notice if someone were speaking to Christine. However, it appeared that I had been rather negligent. The Comte was planning something. He wanted to get my attention, and he knew with my past record that Christine was the way to go about it. He also knew that I wanted Raoul to watch Christine. I would play his game, but I would come out it the victor.

Christine nodded and pulled on her coat, "Let's go."

They blew out the candle and left. I hurriedly ran before them. Reaching the carriage, I incapacitated the driver and hid him. I momentarily worried what Raoul would do. I hoped he would sleep through the morning. I had business with these two and I would rather not have him present to see it.

It was better this way.

The Comte and Christine entered the carriage and ordered me to go to the cemetery.

They were making this almost too easy for me.

I drove away from my home and from the one I loved. I would be a murderer one more time… maybe two more times.

o.o.o

I watched my breath cloud in the cold morning weather. There was snow on the ground and the sky was foreboding. It was still dark and I wondered briefly if the sun would shine today.

I made haste to arrive at the cemetery. I did not particularly feel comfortable with my back turned to either of them. I could very well be attacked and not realize it until it was too late. However, they made no indication of knowing that it was I who drove them, but one could never be too safe.

The carriage bounced and the horses complained. I pushed them forward and was relieved that neither the Comte nor Christine commented on it. They were rather engrossed with one another actually. I could not turn around in fear of being found out, but I could hear that they spoke in hushed tones. I could just picture them sitting close together. The liberties he took with her were ones I had never dreamed I could. I had once touched her in reverence, but there was nothing reverent between those two.

The Comte whispered and I knew them to be huddled rather close, "This is for the best."

I wished to see Christine's expression. I wanted to know her reaction to the statement. Maybe I could decipher of what they were speaking if I did.

She replied, "It seems rather extreme, Philippe."

They were certainly planning something, but if Christine was reluctant to be a part of it, then it meant the Comte was planning something significant. I mean to actually have Christine hesitant. I could not imagine Christine hesitant in anything she did. She could hesitate but it had always been for dramatic effect. It had always been so that others would encourage her. She was not acting now. She was hesitant now.

What could possibly be for the best that Christine could doubt?

The Comte responded but I was unable to hear it as we rode over a bumpy portion of the road.

"Are you certain he will come?" Christine asked.

"Yes," he replied, "I'm certain he will."

They continued to speak to each other, but their voices had dropped to a level where I could not distinguish the words.

Were they speaking of me? I strained my ears to hear anything else, but I still could not hear their conversation. The wind was too loud. The birds were actually chirping. The horses' hooves made too much noise. Everything was conspiring against me. I needed to know of what they spoke.

I wished I could hear them more clearly. It was beginning to annoy me. Still, I would sometimes be able to catch phrases that seemed important, but I could not place them in context. I knew Raoul's name had been spoken several times already. I found it odd that they would speak about Raoul especially considering how Christine hated to talk about things other than herself. However, Raoul was the common thread that held them together. It was not completely odd for them to speak of him.

This whole situation seemed awry. I did not like it.

I had already learned that the Comte had been the one pushing for Christine to go to the cemetery to visit her father's grave. He had to know that I would find out. Christine always thought I was in her room and she would never say anything there she did not want me to hear. She would have told the Comte as much. However, I had not discovered their plan until just this morning. He could not have known I would have seen him enter her room. There were too many things that seemed left unplanned if the Comte was indeed trying to lure me into a trap. However, as we moved further away from the opera house, I felt worse about this situation. Something terrible was going to happen today. I felt it in my bones and my instincts were rarely wrong.

Even with foreboding hanging over me, my mind was preoccupied. I worried about the two behind me, but I worried more about Raoul. I had not left him alone since the masquerade. It did appear that he was fine without me. He had managed well enough in the opera house these past six days, but then again, he had been under my watch. When I had tried to stay away from him, the worry consumed me and eventually drew me back to him.

Seeing him made my heart beat faster. His eyes, his hair… I was obsessed with him. What was I going to do? Raoul did not need me. However, he was not free just yet. Once Raoul went home, he would have to confront his brother. The mere idea of Raoul being in the Comte's grasp was enough to enrage me. He was mine to protect. That thought never strayed far from the forefront of my thoughts. I would remember the wounds that I had helped heal and the ones I never had the chance to attempt to. I could not forget. I knew them as well as I knew my own scars, better even. There had been so many. I had wanted to soothe every injury with my own hands.

Instead, I was left out here in the cold morning using my hands to hurt instead of heal. I wanted to whip the horses harder just to alleviate some of the tension I felt. I forced it down though. There was a time and a place. Both time and place were coming soon. I would get my revenge on the Comte and on Christine.

What better place than a cemetery to commit murder? I need not go very far to find a place to hide the bodies. The anticipation was almost exhilarating. I was not so much thrilled about the act of murdering them though. That would have been the Opera Ghost. Their deaths felt more like a closure to a part of my and Raoul's life that I was helping come to pass. It was a time that should never have occurred to either of us. I was anticipating the moment when the both of us could move forward from this nightmare, when the Comte and Christine became a mere buzz to the music that our life would make together.

That was truly idealistic of me. I thought of us as a unit already when the truth of the matter was that there was no 'we.' I was Erik and he was Raoul. There was no 'we'… yet. Not yet. That was why I would kill his brother and his ex-fiancée. I would remove them from his very thoughts and I would find a way to fill his every thought and every desire with me.

I came back to the fact that I did not even know if he wanted me. It seemed as though he had not wanted to be near me when he had been in my care. He had wanted to leave so badly that it hurt me. I could not even tell for certain if he needed me. He may have known a way to stop his brother himself. He may not need my help at all. I trusted that if he wanted to, Raoul would find a way. He was strong. I knew that.

Even so, I believed that Raoul, as he was now, would still be harmed if I did not act. Raoul would find a way if he wanted, but for some reason, he did not seem to want to fight back. If he would not fight back, then I would have to do so for him. He was mine to protect after all. That much had already been decided. I actually liked to remind myself. It resonated within me and gave me the strength to move forward.

Maybe if I eliminated everyone that might harm him, I could approach him once more. There would be no distractions: no emergency letters, no rings, and no dangerous brothers. Once the Comte and Christine were no longer around, Raoul could focus on the opera house. He could focus on me.

I wanted them gone, and this was the perfect opportunity. I could eliminate them before the seventh day was done. Then Raoul would not have to leave. Well, he could very well still leave, but I could fool myself into thinking that he would not. I wanted to tie him to me, but I did not know how to. I wanted him but I could not hold onto him.

The two behind me had fallen silent. Apparently, it had not taken much to alleviate Christine's doubt since she stopped complaining. I could picture them in my mind's eye sitting close together with the Comte's arm around her shoulders.

That was freedom wasn't it? He could touch whoever he wanted. He could go wherever he wanted. Why was life so wholly unfair? I wanted that freedom. I did not even need that much of it. I did not want to touch anybody. I just wanted to Raoul. I did not want to go anywhere. I just wanted to be with Raoul.

This whole situation did not feel right though, and not just the foreboding feeling I had for this morning excursion to the cemetery. The whole situation with Raoul did not seem right. I had actually let him go. It was just like with Christine. Was it not? I had kidnapped her, though I had not been quite ready to do so at the time, but if I had really wanted her, I should have kept her. However, I let her go. After the mask incident, I brought her back to her life. I could excuse that with the fact that I had not wanted her.

With Raoul, I had kidnapped him as well. I had wanted to keep him. I was ready to keep him. I wanted him so badly. The very thought of him in my arms was wonderful torture. My hands ached to touch him again. My body ached for him to touch me. However, I let him go. There had been no incident. He did not unmask me. I did not scream at him. No, I had simply let him go. Why had I done that? Did I simply sabotage my desires?

That made no sense whatsoever. Why would I sabotage my own desires? I lived doing whatever I pleased. Yet, there was still a kernel of doubt in my mind. I found myself second guessing every decision I made about Raoul. I was uncertain in all aspects of how to treat him and of how to act. I did not want to treat him like I had Christine because she had not wanted me in the end. I did not want to be anyone else though because if I had to change for him, then he could not be for whom I was looking. Yet, I knew without a shadow of doubt that he was the one. I found myself torn. It was an alien feeling and I did not know how to respond to it.

I had to focus. I had to keep in mind what I wanted and what I was working towards. Déjà vu. Hadn't I gone through this with Christine? In my struggles to finish Don Juan Triumphant, hadn't I told myself to focus for Christine? Why did everything come back to her?

If I thought about it though, everything kept coming back to Raoul. I had taken Christine because of Raoul. I had told myself to focus on Christine because Raoul had been distracting me. For some reason, I smiled at the memory of me struggling with that focus. I had been fighting against him then. I had fought against the very thought of Raoul. I had been miserable, but now I could not help but feel hope. I was fighting for him now.

I had to kill Christine and Philippe. That was certain in my mind. I was not going to play the role of the murderer. That person had been the monster. I found no joy in this act, but I knew I could do it. I knew I could because I had to for Raoul. He may not understand it right away, but I hoped I could make him see that it was better this way. It was people like them who ruined lives. It was people like them who ruined our lives.

I pulled up to the cemetery and wondered how I would separate them. I could not attack both of them at once. I would be at a disadvantage. I knew Christine was rather lithe and therefore might escape before I had a chance to kill her. I did not know how capable a fighter the Comte was, but I trusted in my own abilities to be able to overpower him. How to separate them though?

The Comte exited the carriage and helped Christine down. I watched them over my shoulder.

He spoke loudly and rather arrogantly at me, "We will be here a while. Stay," he ordered, "I will pay you more then."

I nodded mutely but jumped off of the carriage and moved to stand by the entrance. The Comte watched me distrustfully, but turned his attention back to Christine when he saw that I had stayed. I pretended to ignore them, but I strained to listen to what they were saying. I watched them from the corner of my eye hoping an opportunity would present itself.

The Comte adjusted the cloak Christine wore and looked at the roses she held in her hand. I too looked at the roses. I had not noticed them before. I loved roses. Of all the flowers for her to bring, she had to bring red roses. I wondered at this coincidence. Christine's actions were never to be taken at face value. Were they trying to trick me? I was beginning to feel that my paranoia was getting out of hand.

The Comte leaned forward and pecked her lightly on the lips. I frowned at them. I did not want Christine, but the speed with which the Comte and Christine's physical relationship was envious. If I could treat Raoul like that… I let the thought hang.

"I'll let you go on ahead so that you can have time with your father," the Comte suggested. He smiled sympathetically. Yet, I knew the emotion to be false. There was an odd sense of falsehood around him. I could almost believe everything he said or did, but I could not fully reconcile it with the thoughts I already had of him with my experience with Raoul. It was not only my innate dislike for him though. When I looked at him, I could not help but feel his pretension.

I was slightly confused by Christine's reaction though. Instead of looking relieved or grateful or whatever she was supposed to react to his false sympathy, she looked reluctant still. Reluctant… it was not a word I would use to describe Christine often. However, she covered it up with a smile and nodded. She turned and left in the familiar direction without once turning back.

At least this way, I did not have to worry about separating them. The Comte had already done it for me.

The Comte did not wait to watch where Christine went. Apparently, he already knew where the Daae mausoleum was. How he would have known was a mystery to me though. It made me more wary of him. He instead turned left and began to wander deeper into the cemetery. I wondered where he was going. The Chagny family had no graves here of which I knew though I had never really thought of it.

I wondered which one I should follow. Christine should be the easier of the two to kill. Did that mean I should try to kill the Comte first? The bigger obstacle at this time seemed to be the Comte, but as both Comte and Christine parted ways, I found myself following Christine. I at least knew where she was going. I assumed the Comte was simply going to walk around the cemetery. He did not appear to want to stay by the carriage.

Maybe he was expecting someone; this mysterious person that he knew to be following them. Whatever he was doing though, I would worry about it later.

I followed Christine. I knew where her father's grave was and therefore could beat her to it. This was not the first time that I had followed her to this cemetery. This was the first time however that I planned to let her join her father.

As she walked, she began to sing. She sounded beautiful. I had once lived for that voice. I faltered in my steps to get ahead of her and instead kept close to hear her song.

She walked through the cemetery almost wistfully. She barely looked at the graves though. It was as though she were ignoring them. She was ignoring death, but I would bring it to her attention soon enough.

You were once
my one companion ...
you were all
that mattered ...

It was as though she were singing for my sake as well. Christine had been my everything. She had been the only one with whom I spoke. I could not count Madame Giry because we rarely spoke. She relayed the notes I needed to be sent, but beyond that, very few words had been shared. We were hardly acquaintances much less companions.

Christine, on the other hand, had kept me sane. In a bigger way though, she had also driven me to insanity. I had focused so much on her not realizing how much I was hurting myself in the process. It had all been a façade. It was all still one. It was a ruse and given that a lie had been the basis for our whole twisted relationship, I did not know how I ever thought it could be anything more.

It hurt to love Raoul as well. It hurt but not in the way that loving Christine had. It hurt me because I could not be there for him all the time. I could not be by his side. I could not see him smile truthfully. I could not hear him laugh or talk. I could not touch him, and it hurt terribly. He was all that mattered.

Christine continued to stroll. I wondered for what she was waiting. She had never taken this long to get to her father's grave. She always found such comfort in being near it, just as she found comfort lighting a candle for him. She was biding her time and I knew I could get ahead of her, but still I waited to hear what words she would sing.

You were once
a friend and father -
then my world
was shattered ...

I scoffed at that. She was hardly one to speak of worlds shattering. Had she ever experienced anything devastating? I was sure her father's death was hard, but it hardly could have been avoided. Death was hard on everyone. Worlds do not shatter because of it. We let ourselves wallow in self pity when those who have died have already moved on. No, I could feel no pity for her.

Had her world ever really shattered? Had she lost footing on her very place on this world? Had she ever felt as though the very thoughts she had and emotions she felt were all lies? Lies that you told yourself. I did not think so. She was calculating and very well knew what lies she lived. She was shrewd enough to make certain she had a life to live.

Maybe though, she could have grown up differently. Maybe she would have been a different person had her father not died. She could have been kinder, gentler. She could have been someone who did not love her roles so much. I could believe that.

After all, I believed that I would have been a different person had I not been born with this deformity. I could have been so much more. I too could have had a kinder disposition. I never would have been a monster or a murderer.

I even believed that Raoul would have grown up differently had Philippe not been there. I did not know whether that was a good thing or not though. Of all the people, of all the roles I knew, Raoul was the only one I would not change. I may want to erase his past so that he would never have experienced pain. I may want to soothe every ache so that he would not understand suffering or betrayal. But, they were what made him who he was now. And, he was perfect. Through everything, he had come out perfectly. I could not express it in any other way. I wanted to be in that innocence he seemed to radiate. I wanted to be near him always. I wanted him to never change.

Wishing you were
somehow here again ...
wishing you were
somehow near ...
Sometimes it seemed
if I just dreamed,
somehow you would
be here ...

I could not help but regret my decision to let him go once more. It was just an example of how I second guessed every decision with him. I regretted the decision the moment I made it. I regretted it every morning following every day that he was so close yet so untouchable. I once again barely slept so that I could watch him. Even when I slept, I dreamt of him. He was so close. So close, but so far.

I wanted him to be happy. It was why I had been willing to let him leave. Now, I did not know why I even thought letting him go was a good idea. I wanted him and I only wanted him to be happy with me. I could not bring myself to not want him. I did not want to stop.

Some time during her song, I had stopped moving. I hurriedly caught up.

The words she spoke came from that person she could have been. It came from a part of her that was buried under all the deceit.

She sang with the voice I had given her. I knew every tone, pitch, and range of it. I knew every melody she sang because I had been the one to give it to her. It was a voice I knew as well as my own. It was almost perfect. She would never sing perfectly though because I believed passion was as important as any other aspect of singing. That was my failure as her tutor, but one could not be taught passion.

This song had the capability to move me by itself, but it did not. It fell short of its true potential. Had it not been for my own thoughts, my own emotions… had it not been for Raoul, I would not be affected at all. My desire for Raoul and the longing that was comparable to her song made me pause. They were words I could sing at this moment and mean completely.

I wanted to touch him. I wanted to feel the heat of his body again. I wanted to see him again. I wished to never look away.

Wishing I could
hear your voice again ...
knowing that I
never would ...
Dreaming of you
won't help me to do
all that you dreamed
I could ...

I wanted to hear him breathing, talking, singing. Oh, God. He sang. Oh, how he sang. I did not know how I had almost forgotten that he did. It had been his voice which had haunted my thoughts for six months. It had been his song that had driven me to distraction. It had been his passion with which I had found myself entranced, which had driven me to see the truth about Christine.

He had offered her everything and she had agreed, but it had been glaringly obvious she had not loved him. Her lie had been so apparent against his guilelessness that I had been forced to acknowledge it. It had been the dream, the one by which I had been tormented, the one that had Raoul in it. It had been that dream which had given me sleepless nights. She had looked past me and I had finally seen who she was.

How odd. Why hadn't I realized earlier how much Raoul had been in my thoughts? The moment he became patron of the opera house, I had watched him. I watched everyone though. That was why I had not noticed. Yet, somehow, he was the only one that really left an impression on me. He was the only one who had fooled me completely.

I turned my attention back to Christine and realized we were close to her father's grave and I was still not ahead of her. I raced ahead and cleared my thoughts. I did not want to be thinking fondly of Raoul when I killed her. I did not want to sully my memories of him as all other of my memories had been sullied.

Passing bells
and sculpted angels,
cold and monumental,
seem, for you,
the wrong companions -
you were warm and gentle ...

Only the cold eyes of these sculpted angels would be witness to my actions. The perfect detachment needed for a murder. I climbed to the top of the mausoleum and waited. I wanted to lure her into the mausoleum. Once she was inside, she would have nowhere to run. I could very well kill her and never have to move her.

Too many years
fighting back tears ...
Why can't the past
just die ...?

So many years wasted on Christine. Years that had driven me to the brink of insanity.

It saddened me how my obsession with Christine had all gone to naught. It saddened me that I had not seen it sooner. I had not realized that she had been nothing but dreams and empty promises.

I owed her something though. I did not know how I would have turned out had she not been my obsession. She very much shaped who I was. It was part of the reason why I hated her. She had made me a monster.

She had also almost made me miss Raoul. She had almost lost me the only true happiness I could have.

I was no longer that monster and I no longer ignored Raoul. I wanted to forget the past.

The past would die today.

Wishing you were
somehow here again ...
knowing we must
say goodbye ...
Try to forgive ...
teach me to live ...
give me the strength
to try ...

This was my chance at happiness. This was my chance to be someone I wanted to be, to be with someone. I would do anything for Raoul. I would do anything to keep Raoul and this was the only way. The thought of him gave me strength. It calmed me.

I prepared myself. This would be a goodbye.

No more memories,
no more silent tears ...
No more gazing across
the wasted years ...
Help me say
goodbye.

Before calling out to her, I silently whispered, "Goodbye, Christine."

Wandering child ...
so lost ...
so helpless ...
yearning for my
guidance ...

I knew I should have felt reluctant. I should have felt sad to do this to her, but I did not. All I wanted was her death. I wanted to eradicate the very memory of her.

She looked genuinely surprised for a moment before gathering herself. Fixing a look of fear and uncertainty, she responded.

Angel ... or father ...
friend ... or
Phantom ... ?
Who is it there,
staring ... ?

How could I feel reluctant when she played innocent? There was no doubt in my mind that she was lying. I did not try to disguise my voice. She knew my voice well. I had made certain she would never forget it. It had been obvious with her initial reaction. She must have truly been surprised to let her facial expression change. I almost called out irately, but smoothed out my voice. I was trying to lure her to me, not scare her away.

She did not know about my change of heart. She did not know why I was here. She only knew what she assumed. I hoped she assumed I would never harm her.

Have you
forgotten your Angel ...?
Angel ... oh, speak ...
What endless
longings
echo in this
whisper ...!

I was tired of this game. I was so very tired of it. These roles tore at me. I had decided to kill Christine and the Comte as Erik. It hadn't been a difficult decision because it was who I was. Yet, here I was being the Opera Ghost. I was pretending to be that 'Angel of Music' who so doted on Christine, who turned a blind eye to who she really was.

It was okay for now though. Wasn't it? It was okay to play these roles one more time.

Too long you've wandered
in winter ...Once again
she is his ...
Far from my
far-reaching gaze ...
Once again
she returns ...

Our voices melding together felt so familiar. It was comfortable since I knew her voice, but I was glad when I realized that comfort meant nothing. I felt nothing for her. She sang beautifully. She looked beautiful as well, but I felt nothing for her.

I struggled though to pull myself away from the role I was playing. I had to do this as Erik or else I may never be freed from these roles. It was easier this way though. It was easier to lure her to me if I was who she expected.

Wildly my mind
beats against you ...
You resist ...
Yet your/the soul
obeys ...
... to the arms
of her angel ...
angel or demon ...

I was no angel. And now I could resolutely assert that I was no demon either. I was merely a man. I smiled at the thought. I was a man who now had a reason to fight, a reason to live.

still he calls her ...
luring her back, from the grave ...
angel or dark seducer ...?
Who are you, strange
angel ...?
Angel of Music!
You denied me,
turning from true beauty ...
Angel of Music!

This was taking too long. She was refusing too much. She had never done so before. In fact, the daze she seemed to be in was false as well.

My voice had a quality that was enchanting. I had been gifted with that ability. I had cultivated it. It made people forget their desires and listen only to mine, but I knew its affect on Christine was waning. She was acting right now. She was stalling.

The foreboding feeling came back stronger. This felt to be a trap. I suddenly wondered where Philippe was. Was she waiting for him to come? Had they known all along that it had been me driving their carriage?

I had to assume they did not know. I had to try harder to get her to come closer.

Do not shun me ...
Come to your strange
Angel ...
Angel of Music!
I denied you,
turning from true beauty ...
Angel of Music!
My protector ...
Come to me, strange
Angel ...
I am your Angel of Music ...
Come to me: Angel of Music ...
Angel of darkness!

I would lose my opportunity to do this if it took any longer, but I needed her to be closer so that she did not have the opportunity to run away or scream. I needed to lure her to me. Just a bit closer and I could reunite her with the father that had probably ruined her life by dying.

Cease this torment!
I am your Angel of Music ...
Come to me: Angel of Music ...

"Christine!" an all too familiar voice yelled.

Raoul.

My head snapped in his direction. I stopped singing and my eyes found him easily. He looked to be a little dazed. He snapped out of it though. Had he been listening to my song? Had my voice overpowered his senses? I was losing what hold I had on Christine, but apparently, Raoul could be held under my sway. The prospects of the idea were enticing. I did not want to lure him to me though. I wanted his affection to be genuine.

It was more important right now though to know what he was doing here. I told him to stay in the opera house. I was angry with him, but I was angrier about the fact that I would not be able to kill Christine. Now that Raoul was here, I would not be able to kill either Christine or the Comte. I did not want him to be present when I did such a thing. It would be harder for him to be able to accept me if he saw me do so.

I wondered why I had not noticed his approach. I could not have been so engrossed with Christine to have not noticed him. I had even been worried about Philippe. Surely, I would not have dropped my guard so much.

I climbed down from the Daae mausoleum. I needed to have a little talk with Raoul.

I hid behind a statue close by Christine and stopped. I quickly reexamined our deal. I would return the ring to him only if he remained within my opera house for seven days. If he so much as stepped one foot out of the building, he should expect nothing from me. His desires would mean nothing to me and I would do as I pleased.

Now that he had broken our deal, I could confront him. In fact, the way the deal was set up, I could do whatever I wanted to him. Even with this prospect, I was too angry to think properly. Raoul had disobeyed me. I was not so angry with the disobedience, but he had endangered himself. I told him to stay there for his own sake. If he had actually wanted the ring, he would not have left.

I could admit that part of what I felt was fear. I had been calm because I had thought to have known where he had been. I had been soothed by the thought that he had been at my opera house still asleep. Now, I found that he's here chasing after Christine, no less.

He looked around uncertainly, looking for me. He was worried now? He should have thought of that sooner. Maybe before leaving the opera house.

He wasn't even wearing proper clothing. A flimsy shirt hardly protected him from the cold. He should have been more cautious about his health. He was shivering already.

I slipped closer to hide behind a nearer statue.

I looked at Christine and was worried to see that she did not appear to be surprised. That look of reluctance crossed her face again. She quickly schooled her expression into one of annoyance. I doubted she needed to try very hard to do so. Her expression looked off though. She was holding back. Something was making her uneasy.

Raoul could not be the mysterious person that they knew would follow them. I looked between Christine and Raoul. My gaze settled on Raoul as I watched him rush to her. I watched as Christine lost the residual reluctance left and something akin to determination replaced it.

She had been waiting for Raoul.

Why hadn't she asked how he had known where she was? Why hadn't she asked why he had followed her?

She hadn't because she had been expecting him.

I cursed Raoul's stupidity for following them. They were planning something terrible and he simply walked into their plan. I did not bother to remind myself that if they had been setting the trap for me, then I could be considered guilty of the same thing.

I refrained myself from coming forward just yet though. I waited to see what she would do. I did not see the Comte anywhere, and I really wanted to know why Raoul had come.

The obvious answer was that he had come for her. I could not help but feel jealous. It was true that he had broken the engagement himself and had told me I could have her, but when he did things like this, I could not help but think maybe he had reconsidered. It probably did not help him that I was already angry with him.

"Are you okay?" he asked concernedly. I glared at Christine to see her response. I was a possessive person. Raoul belonged to me. I knew that I never wanted to see her with him again.

So, I was relieved when she glared at him. There was nothing between them. I had already known it, but the very thought of them still worried me. The very thought of them together made me angry. It was not just jealousy. It was pure anger. Especially when Raoul seemed honestly worried for her. Did he still consider her a friend? Did he not know of Christine's alliance with his brother? Then I realized, he could not know. The Comte had not spoken to Christine this whole week. Well, apparently he had, but not where Raoul or I could see them. Christine was also playing a part in a plan right now.

I felt the betrayal twice over for him. I would kill them before he found out. I was certain he would not handle the discovery of their alliance well. I believed that he still cared for both of them. That much was apparent. I would have to distract him and then kill the two. It would be difficult but I needed to do it.

"What do you think you're doing?" Christine bit out.

I did not like her tone with him. The dislike I felt for her deepened. She should not treat him so poorly. She had already done enough. By the expression on Raoul's face, he understood what she thought of him.

He looked at her helplessly and offered rather hesitantly, "That wasn't your father."

He did not put any emphasis on the statement. He did not believe it. I was surprised that he could finally see her deceit. He shifted on his feet uneasily from left to right. I could not tell whether he was nervous or if it was because he was cold.

Christine looked exasperated, "You have no claim on me. Leave me be."

I expected her to walk away because when she was truly angry, she would walk away from people. The masquerade was the clearest example of that. However, to my surprise, she stayed. I looked closer at her and she did not actually seem angry. She was waiting for something.

Why would she tell him to go away though? She had obviously been waiting for him. The plan had something to do with Raoul so he needed to be here.

Or was the Comte lying in wait by the entrance of the cemetery?

I doubted it. Christine was stalling again. She was waiting for the Comte to come here. She knew Raoul would not leave her alone. Even I knew as much. He had come here out of some sort of loyalty or duty he felt for her. I wished he didn't have that part of him. He would not leave though until he knew that Christine was safe.

"I-," he looked to be at a loss of what to say, "I'm sorry."

I could not believe it. He had apologized to her. I no longer cared what else they would say. Raoul should never apologize to people like Christine.

Christine's expression shifted again. It was easier to read her now that I allowed myself to see her for what she truly was. First there was the fake anger, the exaggerated surprise and her overall response to me. She had been more surprised by my presence than by Raoul's. And now, she seemed smug. That apology was for what she was waiting. Something bad was going to happen.

I quickly grabbed Raoul and winced when Christine screamed. The Comte would be here soon. I needed to take Raoul away from here. I needed to make sure he would leave before their plan was set into motion. I covered his mouth so no one would be able to follow us if he so decided to scream. Wrapping my cloak around, I tried to shelter him from the cold as much as possible. I was mindful of the wounds I knew to be under that shirt of his, but pressed our bodies close together. His shirt was extremely thin and his face and arms were freezing.

I was thoroughly annoyed with him. Didn't he even care about his health? He was still recuperating. He could very well get a fever and then get worse. His wounds would not heal well and then what?

However, I could not deny that it felt good to touch Raoul. I could not deny that I was glad he was cold because then he would not complain about our proximity. He would not realize that I was unnecessarily holding him or was unnecessarily close. Seven days of no touching and now I did not want to ever let him go. When I felt that it was safe to stop, I began to push him against a headstone before realizing his back might still be pain. I kept my arm behind him and tried to cushion his fall. However, I lost my balance so that we both fell against the headstone.

His body was pressed tightly against my own and he had grabbed onto me. He was touching me again. The action made me want to smile, but I was still angry with him. I made certain that my cloak was still wrapped around him and that the cold would not seep through his clothing. I breathed in deeply just as though I could breathe him in. I felt better like this. I felt completely at ease with him in my arms. I considered just staying like this.

He did not struggle against me and I wondered what he was thinking. He had actually not struggled this whole way. Maybe he thought it was useless, but I hoped otherwise. Maybe he wanted to be near me. Then I came to my senses and realized I was still mad with him.

I leaned a little back so that I could look at his face and frowned. How could I stay angry with him when he smiled at me like he did? I had kidnapped him, and still he smiled at me. I struggled to keep my expression stern. I could not let him believe I was not angry with him. I was furious with him actually. There was a part of me that had wanted him to succeed in our deal. There was a part of me that had wanted to be rid of the Comte and Christine finally. Then, there was that part of me, the larger part of me that just wanted Raoul to keep looking at me so openly. That larger part had wanted him to fail so that I would be able to do whatever I wanted to him. That larger part wanted to do many things to him.

Instead, I scolded him, "What are you doing here?"

He stopped smiling, and I wished I had not said anything for just a little while longer.

"Well," he explained, "I followed Christine."

I was about to yell at him that that was hardly a good reason when I remembered that I had told him to follow Christine. I had only told him to do so to know where he was though. I had only meant inside the opera house. So, Christine was to blame for this. I should have expected that order to have turned out badly.

I settled for growling at him, "You were to stay within the opera house."

He looked away ashamed and I wanted him to look at me again. I did not want him to turn away. I wanted to see every emotion that ran through his eyes. I did not want to miss a single one. I felt more than saw him shrug. He looked at me again and I could not believe how sad he looked.

He had apparently wanted the ring badly. He had wanted to leave my opera house. He had wanted to leave me. I held him tighter.

He continued, "I'm sorry."

He apologized so easily. He had nothing to be sorry about. He made a choice. He had to deal with the consequences. He probably regretted it though. I did not. I did not regret his decision. I said that I would no longer care for his desires and that would not change. No matter how sorry he was, I would make him mine.

He still refused to meet my eyes though, "Something felt wrong about her disappearance."

I stared at him. He felt that something had been off too? Nothing was right with this morning and even Raoul realized it. I held him and felt his body warming up. Something bad was going to happen and I feared that I would not be able to stop it. I wanted to hold him until this day was done. I wanted to stay like this for the rest of my life. I did not want to be in this cemetery, but I wanted to have Raoul in my arms.

If I wanted it, I would have to fight for it. I looked at him once more, memorizing every feature I could and lightly brushed the strands of his hair so he would not realize. I could tell him to leave and then kill the Comte and Christine, but I knew he would not go. He would want to make sure that I did not hurt Christine. He probably did not even realize his brother was here. Maybe I could just take care of his brother then.

I pulled him forward keeping him as close to me as possible. I quickly returned to the Daae mausoleum hoping that Christine was still there and that the Comte had not yet arrived. I practically carried Raoul obsessed with the feel of his body against my own. I could revel in it later though. We reached the mausoleum and Christine was thankfully still there. She was huddled near the entrance of her father's mausoleum.

I released him so that I could look him in the face.

"Take her back in the carriage," I ordered him. He had to go right now. I knew that the Comte had to be close by. I was relieved when I saw him nod. I looked at him and gave him fair warning. I was warning him because now I would not hold back in my efforts to have him love me back. I could not just tell him that I was in love with him though, so I said instead, "The deal has ended. You have failed."

He looked so hurt that I almost took it back, but the sudden appearance of Raoul's brother behind him stopped me. I had to think quickly. With his sword, the Comte lunged at me. The part that infuriated me was that he was planning to get to me by going through Raoul. I knew I did not have time to draw my own sword and with Raoul in the way, I still would not be able to stop the sword until it had gone through him. So it was pure reflex that had me pull off my cloak and swing it behind Raoul to swipe the sword aside. Luckily the momentum had been enough to push the sword aside. The Comte unsteadily fell to the side.

I pushed Raoul away more roughly than I had intended to but the Comte had easily regained his bearing and was lunging at me once more. I only glanced as I saw Raoul fall head over feet away from us. I noticed Christine running away as well. At least she had not run in the same direction as Raoul though. I drew my own sword and was able to parry the next lunge.

I let my worry for Raoul fade. With the Comte as my opponent, I need not worry about anything bad happening to Raoul. Christine would not physically harm him. I made sure our battle was moving away from where Raoul had fallen. He did not need to see me kill his brother, which I wholly intended to do.

I would finally be able to kill Raoul's abuser. It felt good to swing viciously at the Comte. Every time our swords clashed, it reverberated through the sword and into my arm. The feeling fueled me forward. It fueled the desire to kill him. I could tell that he was not holding back either. He honestly intended to kill me.

He looked serious. The most serious I'd seen him look so far. He was actually focused right now. He lunged at me again but was too slow.

"Well," the Comte commented lightly, as though he had not just tried to stab me, "this is our first meeting."

He said it as though he had not tried to stab me by stabbing right through Raoul. I glared at him. Did he truly not care for his brother at all? The answer was obvious though. The scars Raoul had spoke volumes.

I parried and moved him further away from where I had pushed Raoul. I hoped Raoul would not follow us. I considered that possibility rather slim though. I would have to keep the Comte very busy then and hope that Raoul would realize he had an opportunity to get away. I replied shortly, "Indeed it is."

The Comte was going for a kill. His swings were powerful and aimed only for the vital organs. This man was a murderer. I could tell easily.

"I had not expected to see you so soon. I am the Comte de Chagny," he smiled sardonically. "You may call me Philippe."

I dodged a swing meant to decapitate my head. It struck a headstone with enough force for granite to spray. He was an adept fighter and confident in his skills. It seemed we would be at a deadlock. I lunged forward aiming for his heart. I would show no mercy either. He parried and almost dislodged the sword from my grasp.

He continued to speak, "I assume you are the opera ghost." He was a little breathless. I was glad to see that this involved some exertion for him. I had not needed to fight like this in a while. I had not practiced my sword skills very much. I had not needed to, but I had quick reflexes and knew I was stronger than anyone. I would not let him win. I would kill him and claim Raoul as my own. This was the man that had hurt him so badly. I would exact my revenge.

I offered no reply, only attacked with more force. I was gaining ground, but he left no openings. He managed to put enough distance between us so that I could not reach him. "You took Raoul." He said, the mirth in his voice disappearing completely. "Do not take things that are not yours." He was glaring at me.

I wondered what Raoul really meant to him. It was certain that Philippe did not love Raoul. I had the impression that I had just taken a toy from a spoilt brat, a very dangerously armed spoilt brat. It would seem that the Comte did not like others to touch his things. It may be the only attribute that we shared. No one but I would touch Raoul again. Not if I could help it, and I could.

"Do you really think you could use Raoul against me?" The Comte kept at least three headstones between us. I chased and he would maintain the distance. I was not really trying to reach him though. I wanted to hear what he wanted to say. At least he did not suspect that Raoul meant anything more to me. That would be dangerous information in his possession. I wanted to retort that I was not using Raoul at all, but I held my tongue.

"Raoul is my pawn," he emphasized his possessiveness. I had been correct about him. It was not about Raoul, but rather it was something that was more animalistic. I had wandered into his territory by kidnapping Raoul. "I trained him. I gave him his life. I will be the only one to take it away."

The words enraged me. He was playing with Raoul's life so easily. He spoke of giving and taking as though he were a god. He was merely a man. Actually, he was only an animal. I would kill him. There was no doubt now. He needed to die. He kept solidifying the thought in my mind. It suddenly did not bother me if Raoul were here. He would simply watch me kill his tormentor. Nothing more.

The Comte had it wrong. I had not wandered into his territory. He had wandered into mine.

I easily closed the distance between us and we clashed swords. I grabbed the hilt of his sword at the exact moment he grabbed mine. Our faces were directly in front of each other. I could clearly see his face, his eyes. His eyes were cold and hidden. They were nothing like Raoul's. Raoul would never look at me as though he wanted to kill me. He would never grow up to be like this man. I would die before I let that happen.

The Comte growled out, "You think you can win?"

This would be the moment I laid my claim on Raoul. It was stupid of me to think that I could be anyone other than myself. I may not be a monster, but I should have known that I could not let something I desired be free. I may have driven Christine away by holding on too tightly, but I could not let Raoul go. I could not accept that if I let Raoul go, he would come to me willingly. I would hold onto him. If he rebelled as Christine did, I would only have to hold on tighter. Raoul was mine. I was not going to let him go without a fight. I would not let him go without doing everything in my power to keep him.

Who had I thought I was? I was not going to be happy if Raoul had been happy without me. No, it was not possible. It was not who I was. I would never be that monster again, and I would never deny what I desired under the guise of some false logic. I had been trying to sabotage myself. Those times were gone. Those roles were gone. There was no more phantom. There was no more murderer. There was no more Angel of Music.

There was only Erik. Erik was a passionate artist who was able to feel not only hatred but love. Erik was loyal and in love, and when it came down to it, Erik would do anything to protect the one he loved. I would be gentle and kind. I would be caring and attentive. I would move heaven and earth, and even be a murderer if need be. Raoul was mine. I would let nothing harm him.

I ground out in his face, "Raoul is no longer your pawn." I kicked him in the stomach in emphasis. I felt a wave of satisfaction as I watched him fly backwards, "He's mine."

I was breathing heavily and took a moment to gather myself. Philippe had fallen rather far from me and hit his head along the way. Too bad there was no blood. He was slowly standing up. He was so disoriented that I could kill him right now and he would not know what happened to him. I would kill him in revenge for all the things that he did to Raoul. I would kill him in revenge for all the things that had been done to me.

I moved towards him when I was suddenly tugged backward. I turned to look and saw that it was Christine who pulled my arm. I had not noticed her approach. Once again I had been caught unawares. I had been so focused on the Comte.

She looked almost desperate as she held my arm. Pleadingly looking at me, she held me back with all her strength. I noticed that she looked confident though. She was confident that I would not hurt her. I laughed inwardly. How wrong she was. I grabbed her arm and she yelped in pain. Panic flashed through her eyes. She looked confused for a moment before the panic truly set in. She knew now that I was not her angel of music. She struggled against my grasp but only managed to hurt herself more. Tears began to form in her eyes.

I almost lifted her off her feet as I pried her off my arm. "What do you think you're doing?" I looked at her fiercely.

She shied away and only looked stricken that I was manhandling her. She finally understood that I no longer wanted her. I had finally let her see that fact. I did not want her. I did not need her. I would however hurt her.

She was trying to save the Comte. Even if I had wanted her, the very act of her interference would have only driven me forward to kill him. She never had enough power to stop me from murdering who I pleased. Now, she had absolutely no power over me.

Christine opened her mouth to reply but nothing came forth. She was too afraid, too shocked, too much in pain. She did not know pain. I threw her aside and she screamed. I had thought that I lost the chance to kill either of them, but now, both were at my disposal.

I started towards the Comte. He still could not breathe properly and he looked disoriented. I glanced back at Christine to make sure she was not going to move. I did not think she could gather her bearing fast enough. I knew that I had not actually harmed her. Not yet. She looked too stunned to move though. She had depended on my complacency and I had let her down. Disappointing her made me feel better.

It was then that I caught sight of Raoul. He stood nearby staring at the scene before him. He looked like a vision. Wearing my cloak, his hair was a mess, he looked ragged, and his hands were an alarming colour of red. However, he looked completely composed. His expression was on that I had never seen on him before. Helooked different. He held himself differently, almost confidently. It was a confidence I had only glimpsed once before on the mezzanine seats. This was the Raoul that had captured my attention. This was the Raoul that I had wanted to meet again.

I felt drawn to him, but I could not go to him just yet. Not when the Comte could witness it. The idea of just taking him and leaving Paris without once looking back flashed through my mind. Something was holding me back though. I could not just take him away. No matter how much I wanted to.

Instead, I walked over to Christine and pulled her up roughly. I pushed her towards Raoul. "Take her and go," I ordered.

Currently, I would deal with the Comte. Now that Christine knew I no longer wanted her, she would be on her best behaviour. I expected she would not do anything too drastic. However, the Comte was still very much a threat.

Raoul caught her before she could fall. I was pleased to see her hide behind him in fear. However, seeing her huddled close to him only angered me further.

He looked uncertain what to do for a moment. He hesitated before turning around and running towards the entrance of the cemetery. He dragged Christine along. I watched them go and wished I had chosen differently. I wished that I had grabbed Raoul instead and made our escape.

I watched him fade into the mist. So distracted, I did not see the Comte stand up. The only indication I had of his attack was the crunch of his boots as he lunged at me with all his might. I barely managed to dodge, but the sword sliced the right side of my abdomen. Luckily, he had not managed to skewer me as he had planned. I rolled away in pain before standing en guard.

The Comte smiled evilly. "That brother of mine is so obedient. Do you trust him that much with Christine?"

I did not answer. It would only harm me to answer. I mentally assessed the wound. I would not be able to move my arm very much without stretching the wound. That would very much impede my ability to fight. However, I could ignore the pain for now. It would leave a very large scar, but at least I had not died. I could not believe how distracted I was. Had it not been for my reflexes, the Comte very well would have skewered me right through.

I stood up and brushed the snow off my clothing as though the wound meant nothing. I knew if I showed weakness to this man, he would only use it against me.

"I have big plans for him," the Comte continued conversationally.

I stayed a reasonable distance from him. I wanted to hear what he had to say. "Is that so?" I prompted.

"Yes," he sauntered over to me before attacking. Our positions were reversed this time. It was I who was keeping that safe distance.

The Comte allowed it for now. He wanted to boast, and I would let him. "He won't be the Raoul that you know after today."

I did not like the confidence with which he said it. How could he possibly affect Raoul? Another beating maybe.

"It appears that I have let him run free too much."

I had to respond now, "Free?"

"Oh, yes," the Comte replied sagely. He closed the distance between us quickly. He attacked but pulled back again. He was only provoking me.

"Yes," he continued, "I know what's best for him. You may think you know how to control him, but you don't. Only I know how his mind really works. I know every thought that runs through that little mind of his."

I glared at him, but I had a feeling that he was right. I could read Raoul's emotions, but I had no idea how his mind worked. The Comte had really been the one to shape Raoul's development. I did not doubt that he knew what Raoul thought. Whatever he had planned would change Raoul. I knew that the change would not be for the best.

I realized that the foreboding feeling I had felt was not for me. It had been for Raoul. Something bad was going to happen to Raoul, and I had to stop it.

He began a flurry of attacks and I eagerly joined it. He had enough of taunting me. I had had enough of hearing him ridicule Raoul. He was going for the kill now, and I would too.

He varied his attacks from head, shoulder, leg, but he focused on forcing me to extend my grasp. I parried rather sloppy but was able to force him back a few times. I needed to put him in the defensive. I could not allow him to control the flow of this battle.

However, it hurt to attack, and worse, it was becoming increasingly obvious to both of us that it hurt me more to defend. He fiercely attacked with renewed vigor. I could hardly keep up. I could hardly block him well enough. The pain that flooded my senses almost made me drop my guard a number of times.

He was pushing me back. He was wearing me down and we both knew it was only a matter of time before I was too weak to stop him. My hand was becoming numb and my body felt so cold. I had lost too much blood and had exerted too much energy.

Suddenly, I backed into a wall. I had not been paying enough attention to where I was retreating. He punched me with his free hand in the abdomen where the cut had been and wrenched the sword from my already numb hand. My own sword was suddenly pressed against my throat. I was trapped. I grabbed the hand that was holding the sword at my throat. I would not die by my own sword. However, I knew that he was not going to slit my throat. His right hand was still free. He would kill me with that sword.

I could not block that one. I had no means to. This would be the end. This was it. I had failed. I had wanted to do so much before I died. I had so much to live for now. If I had been in this position a few months ago, I would have been able to die without having a single regret. I did not have anything to live for then. I sometimes found myself not wanting to live. However, now I had a reason to live. I had a reason to fight. I wanted so very much to live, but it was all over now. I would die knowing that I had not been able to protect Raoul.

The Comte's face was close to mine. The similarities in the features made me regret my failure with Raoul even more. He was reveling in his victory though. He stared at my mask intently. I knew that once he killed me he would unmask me. He would have been a person to jeer at me at the carnival. When he looked at me, it felt as though all I was was the mask.

He whispered almost happily, "You'll never touch Raoul again."

I wanted to laugh. He had no idea what he was saying to me. He did not fully understand just how much he was actually taking away from me. He did not know how much I wanted to touch him. However, the possessiveness of this man was so familiar to me that I knew that I was going to be killed by a role I once played. This Comte and the Opera Ghost were the same. It appeared fate wanted me to die by my own hand.

The sound of horse hooves brought me out of my thoughts. I looked behind the Comte and saw Raoul racing towards us. We met eyes and I apologized as best as I could to him with just that look. I wanted to say so much to him. I hoped he could see the love I had for him in my eyes, but I had to look away. I did not want to watch his expression as I died.

However, he was not slowing down like I thought he would. I realized what he was planning to do and grabbed the sword at my neck tighter. He rode full speed until he was almost atop us before pulling the reins back with all his might. The horse whinnied loudly and reared up. Surprised, the Comte looked back and we both threw ourselves aside to avoid the horse's hooves.

I grabbed my sword out of his hand and knocked his sword away from him. We both rolled away from each other. I saw my chance. He was weaponless. I was about to strike when Raoul rode his horse between us. I saw that the Comte had grabbed his sword. I had lost my opportunity, but I would not let myself lose once more. I hurt terribly, but this battle was not done.

I yelled at him and was chagrin to notice the Comte yelling at the same time, "What do you think you're doing?"

He did not reply. Instead, he looked at me for just a moment. I almost dropped my sword. What had that look been? That confidence I had seen earlier was still there, but now that he was closer there was something more in that gaze. There was something that I had never thought to see in his eyes. They were indifferent. He had never looked at me like that before.

He looked away and grabbed Philippe pulling him onto the horse. I watched him leave without once turning back to look at me.

I could not understand what had happened. Raoul had saved my life, but then looked at me as though he never wanted to see me again. I knew I should have been angry. He had just ruined whatever opportunity I had to kill the Comte, and moreover, he even left with the man that he knew hurt him.

I was confused though. Why did Raoul save me? The Comte obviously had the upper hand, so Raoul could not have mistakenly thought he was helping his brother. I could have hoped that his saving me had been a sign that he cared for me, but that look when he left dashed all those thoughts.

I had watched as Raoul left without once turning back. I remembered briefly that time a month ago when he had rushed out of the opera house. He had spared a glance behind him then. He had been worried for his mother, but he still had looked back. He had looked for me even though he knew that I would not be visible. I was visible now and he refused to turn around.

Maybe he wanted to hide the fact that he cared about me from his brother. Maybe he did still care. I could not convince myself though. The feeling that something was different about him intensified. Not just different though, there was something troubling about this change.

I tiredly leaned against the mausoleum and slid to the ground. This wall was the one I had been previously backed up against. It would have been my place of death. Both my side and my hand throbbed at the memory. I ignored the pain in favour of trying to logically review what had happened, but I honestly did not know what to think about what had just occurred.

Raoul had looked and acted differently. Yet he had saved my life. He had gone against his brother and had saved my life, but he had also left with him.

My head was lightheaded. I blamed the blood loss for the circularity of my thoughts. I pulled my shirt aside to look at the wound. The gash was rather deep and it was bleeding rather freely. I tore my sleeve and wrapped it tightly around me. I hoped it would stop the blood. I feebly attempted to stand up but failed. Perhaps, I would start the long walk home once I rested a bit. Without horse or carriage, it would take more effort than I currently had, and I thought I saw the sun beginning to show. Maybe it would be a little warmer. It was easy to think about the weather. I wanted to distract myself with thoughts of the humidity levels of the coming days because thinking about Raoul only confused me.

Not to mention that I was worried for him. I wondered what the Comte would do once they were alone. Raoul would certainly be punished. I would have no way to stop him. I was too injured and they were only getting further away. I would never reach them in time and Raoul would probably once again disappear from opera house business. The managers would hardly care since the Comte had already taken over much of the workload.

I should have taken him and left. I should have known that I should keep him near me. I could have protected him then. I could not protect him now. I was supposed to be his saviour. What kind of saviour was I? He was supposed to be mine to protect. He was supposed to be mine. However, he was not.

This was one of the worst mornings I could remember ever experiencing. Yet, I could not bring myself to feel badly. Perhaps, I really had lost too much blood, but I actually felt better right now. I had been so focused on getting rid of the Comte and Christine that I had ignored Raoul. It was ironic and I was disappointed with myself. I had had Raoul in my grasp a number of times already.

There had been the first time when I had kidnapped him at the masquerade. I had cared for him. I had gotten a taste of what touching him had felt like. I had learned to want him even more. Then, I let him go. I had let him leave my home and me.

The second time occurred this morning when I kidnapped him – though that hardly counted as a kidnapping since I only dragged him away for a few seconds. I could have forgotten about his brother and Christine. I could have ignored my anger and just seen his smile. I could have realized how much danger he was really in and taken him away. Instead, I told him to go back. I told him to take Christine back with him.

Then he had appeared again. Once again I had a choice. Christine was in no position to do anything since she was so shocked. The Comte had still been disoriented. What did I do? I did not choose him. I threw Christine at him.

I banged the back of my head against the mausoleum in frustration.

I threw Christine at him. How stupid could I be? I had thought to just take him and go, but instead I chose to send him away again.

Something was still chaining me to that opera house. The option of taking Raoul away had always been there. I could have taken him away from not only the Opera Populaire and his family, but away from Paris. Yet, something stopped me. Something bound me to that building, and I kept returning to it when I obviously should have left so long ago.

How could I lose my focus on him? I wanted him so badly and yet I kept driving him away.

I had done so many things wrong this morning. I did not know why I could feel so relieved. Nothing had gone the way I had planned. Raoul was out of my reach, due to my own idiocy. The Comte was probably hurting him, for which I was still very angry but knew that I currently could not do anything about. Christine could no longer be fooled into thinking that it was safe for her in the opera house, for which I was actually more pleased about than I should be.

But, I had decided on which course to take. I had seen my own faults and knew what I had been doing. I resolved to focus solely on Raoul. I would worry about Philippe and Christine only when I had to. The first opportunity I had, I would take Raoul away from this all. I hoped that opportunity would arise sooner than later. I hoped that the Comte did not hurt him just yet.

There was also that troubling plan to worry about. All of this happened because the Comte had been planning something. He wanted to change Raoul. He probably wanted to make it so that Raoul would never disobey him again. I wondered how he could possibly do that though.

I wondered if he would succeed. I hoped not. I wanted Raoul as he was. I wanted him not because he was the Vicomte or because he was the patron or anything else. Raoul was none of those things when he was with me. He was simply himself with all his failings and strengths. I had not realized what effect that had on me. I too had dropped all the roles I had been playing. It had been Raoul for whom I determined who Erik really was.

I had always hoped there was someone beneath the roles, someone beneath the Opera Ghost and the Angel of Music, but I never once tried to determine who that person was. I only did so when I thought I was going to lose Raoul. Raoul was changing me. It was a good change, and I wanted the opportunity to help him as well. I wanted Raoul to be who he was supposed to be, just like I had discovered who I was supposed to be.

Earlier this morning, my thoughts had been so unorganized. I found myself thinking in circles. I had never done so before. I had never been so muddled in my life. There had always been one path for me to walk. There had always been one action for me to take. That was mostly due to the fact that I knew exactly what I wanted and I did not care how I obtained it.

With Raoul though, it seemed that I would go through this cycle of knowing what to do then somehow convincing myself that another way was better. I had blamed it on not being used to considering other people's emotions. It had been a good excuse since I hardly managed my emotions well enough. How was I ever going to be able to manage another's?

Now, my thoughts were once again clear. It was almost the clarity that I had experienced on the rooftop one month ago. I knew what I wanted and I knew what I was going to do. Everything would be fine now.

I had been taking the easy path. I had allowed myself to waver in what I wanted. At the time, I could still lie to myself and say that I was doing everything for Raoul's own benefit. It was just another role I had made for myself though. It was a role that had been easy to fall into but one that was based solely on lies, on this pedestal with which I held Raoul, and my "obsession" for him.

It was easy to see now that though I was obsessed, there was something more. There was something deeper. I now understood desire. Obsession or love. It had been the distinction I had not fully understood. It was frightening but I now understood that what I felt was not completely obsession. The helplessness and hope. The desperation and desire. The longing… and love. It was there and I saw it clearly now. I needed him and wanted to need him.

Today would be a brand new day. It would be a brand new life for me where only Erik existed. I felt bare. I felt lighter than I had felt in my entire life, as though some burden had been lifted from my shoulders.

I stood up feeling better. It may have just been a temporary burst of energy, but I headed towards the opera house almost joyfully. I could hardly wait to see Raoul again. I would take him then.

The truth was laid bare before me. I loved him. When I thought it now, I believed it completely. They were not just words. There was a meaning in it that seemed to make me feel better.

There was nothing beneath the illusions I had made for myself. The illusions covered up our inadequacies. They gave characteristics that were never there. Illusions were nothing compared to what was actually there. The illusion of love meant nothing compared to the actuality of it.

There was nothing beneath the actions. I had been working towards the wrong goal. I had made all the wrong decisions before. Those actions had been nothing but mistakes, mistakes that I would no longer make.

There was nothing beneath the roles. There were actually no more roles. Those roles, like the illusions, had been covering emptiness, but not the emptiness of having nothing. It was the emptiness because of lack of purpose. I had needed roles because I had not been strong enough to make myself be who I wanted. There had been no one until I had determined that there was only Erik.

There was no one to acknowledge me. But, walking past these graves and these past lives, I realized that acknowledgement did not equate existence. These bones beneath the ground could very well not exist. I could not see them and their visitors could not see them. Yet, it was insisted that they existed because they existed in memory, but I hardly considered that existence. The mind has always been cruel. Memories or dreams. They hardly had a difference. Survival was life and life was experience. I existed simply because I wanted to, because I could see the snow on the ground, because I could smell the soil beneath my feet, because I could hear the whisper of the trees and the song of the birds, because I could feel the morning air and the heat of the rising of the sun. More importantly, I existed because I could feel a myriad of emotions that encompassed the whole spectrum of human existence. I had the capacity to be more. Those bones beneath the ground could be nothing more than fodder for animals.

There was nothing beneath the mask. There was only emptiness. For the longest time now, there had been nothing beneath the mask. Now, it felt as though the mask did not exist. I felt as though I wore no masks. I no longer wanted to be that faceless, insubstantial individual. There was nothing beneath the mask: no hope, no truth, no worthwhile emotion. There were no more masks.

There were only chains, chains that I now saw. They were chains that I could not fully understand and was only now beginning to pull against.

There was no one left.

No one but Raoul. No one mattered but him.

Everything of my old life could be disposed. I would dispose the unnecessary weight. All I had to do was let go. Let go of my past conceptions and past prejudices. All I had to do to move forward was leave the past behind.

I let go.

I let the past die as I left the cemetery and headed toward the future.

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End ch18

word count: 13,908

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

Chapter review: Stupid Erik and his bad wording with "he's mine". If only Raoul understood what kind of good possessiveness Erik has of him! At least he's had a revelation though. Things are looking up for him (too bad he doesn't know what's happened with Raoul, but he will soon enough).

Do you notice how the endings are way different than the body of the chapter? I think I went a little overboard on this one, but it's just a mood I'm in currently.

A/N: I know I said I wouldn't do these anymore, but you guys' reviews are awesome and way flattering. I don't know what to say. Now, I'm a little on the worried side that I might write like crap. It's okay though; the reviews make me want to write better, not to mention more (which is always good)… thanks to whatevergirl, White Sherry, PuppetofDreams, Psychos-Anonymous, Zee, Mithril Maiden, The Stunning Lies of Lullabies, xdark.flowerx, luisadeza, and Mistoffelees. You know, as I was writing down your sn's, I realized they're pretty darn awesome. It seems I need to be a little more innovative in deciding these things. :oP

Until next time… when bad news gets worse and you'll all find out what I did to Raoul.