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. Changes!

Warning(s): violence

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Story note: I decided that the Don Juan Triumphant portion of the movie sucked (since he basically walked onto the stage with a mask, at least in the stage version he was wearing a hooded cloak as a disguise… could no one tell that that was not Piangi… 'hmmm, wasn't Don Juan fat just a moment ago? Oh well, he sings well so it should be okay.' Really though. The whole hooded cloak was a better way to go about it. I don't know why they had to change that portion). Anyway, so that portion will be there.

Oh and I don't like the whole, let's stand on the wooden bridge we made because as figurative as that part was, I can't believe they made an actual bridge. Did no one else find it random that there was a random bridge there? Maybe it was something else, but it was just really random to me. So that part's totally out.

Basically, they're on stage – Erik in his hooded cloak, Christine in her slutty dress – singing to each other (not on some wooden prop).

Also, I no longer like using lyrics in fanfiction, but I figured I had to for this part.

o.o.o.o

Unmasking the Chains

Chapter 21

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Raoul's POV

o.o.o

Last time:

Most of the time I spent in training. It was one of the benefits I found with having bodyguards. They were the perfect people with whom to practice my skills. I was becoming stronger, and as the days neared the premier, I found myself anticipating the moment when I would be able to not only see the opera in its entirety but also confront the man behind the mask.

I would finally be able to fight the Opera Ghost, and I knew that I would win. I would kill him if we crossed blades. His death was not only necessary. It was inevitable.

o.o.o

Tonight was the night.

After all the rehearsals that the Opera Populaire had been having, the preparations that had been made in conjunction with the law enforcement, and my seemingly long house confinement, everything was going to come to fruition.

We had just eaten dinner and Philippe and I were now preparing to leave for the theatre. The bodyguards had gone ahead of us to make sure everything was prepared at the order of Philippe. I was leaving to dress while Philippe, who had dressed before dinner, was talking to mother.

Before leaving, I momentarily glanced in their direction enviously. I was no closer to either Philippe or my mother since I changed. I thought perhaps that things would be different with them. Wasn't that what change meant? Weren't things supposed to be better? They were not better. Well, perhaps not supposed to be better, but at least different. At least, I could say that my situation was not worse. I was different, but they had not changed. I was becoming stronger. I was changing while they had not even seen a need to treat me any differently. However, the difference now was that I did not care as much. It was a fact that Philippe and my mother would be close. It was a fact that I would always be an outsider compared to them. It had been weak of me to dwell on that in the past, but still, I could not help but be slightly bothered to be treated the same as before.

I walked up the stairs to my room lost in thought. I stopped in front of the mirror and looked at myself. I had to admit that it was like looking at someone else. Couldn't they see that I was a different person and therefore should not be treated as before? It was not just a physical change either. It was not because the wounds had finally healed. It was not the short hair. It was not the firmer muscles or the slight tan. I looked myself in the eyes and there was a confidence that had never been there before. I was comfortable with who I was, and I could not recall a moment before in my life that I could say that. Things had indeed changed. I had changed. It was enough. It had to be enough.

I began to dress with haste. There was no time for me to simply stare at myself. After all, I had been waiting for this night. I would finally be able to leave this estate. Philippe had told me to stay, so I had. I did not know what he was planning exactly but it must have been important for me to stay out of sight. Perhaps he understood that I had been too weak to properly kill the Opera Ghost as he had told me to. Now though, he seemed rather pleased with my effort to become stronger.

What pleased me more was that I could tell that Philippe could read my intentions less and less. I was able to hide more thoughts from him as each day had passed. Or he thought that I had no thoughts whatsoever, but I knew he saw my new ability to hide my thoughts and emotions. This meant progress. I could not help but smirk. I could tell he was torn between being pleased and being disturbed by this new development. Furthermore, I could now almost read him all the time. I could see his irritation when he thought I was keeping something from him. I was beginning to be able to surprise him not only when we sparred but also with my actions. I considered it a good sign that I would one day become the perfect Vicomte and maybe take over his title as well.

During these past few weeks, I had begun to understand how weak I truly had been, how pathetic my life had been. I had been worthless. Philippe had been correct to bring it to my attention. I had been weak and knew that with my title, with my family, and the prestige of our name I could be so much more. I was working to that potential. And now that I was beginning to be able to deceive Philippe, it became quite clear that I would have more power. I would have more authority.

Those thoughts had not consumed me, but it could not help but linger in my mind. Philippe had taken over my job as patron. I could not help but feel a bit displeased with him. However, I still desired to be like him because I could see that his temperament and principles were ideal for success in this life, for our life, but the novelty of having him around constantly had faded. He knew best for now. It was after all his plan that was going to take place tonight. I played but an insignificant shadow.

I pushed aside those thoughts so that I could focus on the current task at hand.

I strapped a sword to my side and continued downstairs. Philippe was waiting for me outside by the carriage. I walked out in time to see him hide a pistol in his coat. It was surprising. I had not even known that he had a pistol. They were expensive and I had heard many stories about how inaccurate the smaller handheld ones were. He also had his sword strapped on. I wondered why he wanted both. It would be easier to kill the ghost with the gun. If Philippe thought it best to have both though, then he must really think that the phantom would appear tonight.

Something told me that he would, but the Phantom… Erik… surely must know that it was a trap. You could hide nothing from a ghost, as least not the Opera Ghost. I had no delusions of the sort that you could. Considering the fact that by now the theatre should be filled with officers, there would be no possible way he did not know what was to occur unless the Opera Ghost had locked himself completely apart from everyone else.

It probably did not matter if there were ten or ten thousand guards waiting for him though. For Christine, he could appear. It was fact. There were rules to the opera house. Firstly was that the Opera Ghost obtained what he desired. Secondly, the Opera Ghost was everywhere always. Thirdly, the Opera Ghost always appeared when Christine was singing. Fourthly, the Opera Ghost killed whoever bothered to get in his way.

So, in order to stop the first rule, we would lure him out with the third rule knowing he would know Christine was singing by the second rule and I would have to inject myself into the whole plot by the fourth rule. Maybe then, I would be able to stop the man. I had already given him the ultimatum. It was up to him whether or not he would stay away. This confrontation seemed to be inevitable though. They were rules for a reason.

Philippe looked up at me and smiled rather grimly. "Are you ready for this, Raoul?"

I looked at him haughtily, "I have been ready for a while now."

He looked at me appraisingly before nodding. He entered the carriage and I followed after him.

We were silent for most of the ride to the opera. Though Philippe tried to appear calm and by all outward appearances seemed as such, I could tell that he was brimming with excitement. This was all a sport to him. Philippe did not consider many people worthy enough to warrant his attention. He thought of them as mere insects, bothersome creatures whose lives could easily be extinguished. No one had ever provided a challenge. His encounter with the Phantom had been a unique event. It was the Phantom's… Erik's… bad luck to have crossed paths with him. I knew Philippe would do everything in his power to kill the Phantom. It was my good luck since the Opera Populaire would now no longer be bothered by him.

I myself could not completely see tonight as a sport, but I could not stifle the eagerness that welled up within me from time to time. It was an adventure. We were going to try to kill and capture a ghost. How could I not be excited? It was true that I knew he was no ghost. It was true that even now my Vicomte's honour told me that since he had yet to do anything awful or detrimental as before, I should not kill him for things he had done in the past. I could not help but feel that he too had changed over the past few months. I did not know where the feeling came from considering I had not seen him since our last encounter, but some part of me seemed certain a Vicomte should not kill someone who had stopped his evil ways. That part of me was often stifled by Philippe's words. It was important for me to protect my investment, to protect the people within it – especially the women, and to uphold my duty as a Vicomte. How could my duty as a Vicomte tell me to do two opposing actions?

I would kill him if he showed tonight though. I should not be so excited about taking another's life, but as a Vicomte who had given an ultimatum, I had to kill him. I would be able to show my strength and erase all those times he had overpowered me. I would show him I was not as weak as before. I could stand on my own two feet. That was cause for eagerness.

I was also excited to see the opera. Don Juan Triumphant had been the topic almost foremost on my mind these past few weeks. I did not know why, but it felt as though anything that would happen… no, not just anything, but everything that would happen would occur at the Opera Populaire in this opera. It was the Phantom's… Erik's… opera after all. I knew it would be an experience not only because of what would occur but also because of the opera itself. I could not deny his brilliance.

There was something more than excitement though. I could not quite place the feeling within me. It had been as though something had been gradually building up in me since the day I had last seen him. It had been building and growing within me, and no amount of sword practice or physical exertion had helped relieve it. I wanted to call it restlessness but there was something more unsettling about this feeling. It was as though some part of me was missing and the ache that diffused from within made me physically and mentally pause by its intensity. I did not know what I could possibly be missing. Everything was perfect. Perhaps not perfect, but everything was falling into place.

Maybe it was the opposite. Maybe it was not a void. Maybe that feeling was as though something was forcing its way through my veins trying to come out. I was so confused. How could I feel so empty and replete at the same time? How could the two even begin to feel the same?

The feeling had happened to me more times than I could count lately. Moreover, the feeling that something was amiss, that something was just plain wrong never left either. Not a foreboding feeling, but that something was amiss with me. Whenever I did anything, there was some skepticism with the action. I found it rather ironic that I felt so confident but could not quash the nagging feeling that I would never act as such. The doubt was feeble enough that it did not stop me from acting or feeling confident but it managed to linger long enough to make me wonder. Neither Philippe nor my mother had commented about my behaviour so I knew that it had to be simply my imagination. There could be nothing amiss.

Those feelings of restlessness and uncertainty were not proper for a Vicomte to have. It showed such low breeding to not be in control of one's emotions or thoughts. I was close to being able to suppress such unnecessary emotions but these were simply overwhelming.

In the end, I could speculate the reason I had been out of sorts. It was all due to the thing, the person that had taken up the forefront of my mind, the Phantom of the Opera. There had been an assortment of thoughts, a rather considerable assortment. They had been thoughts that ranged from murdering him to the sound of his voice and the look in his eyes, the last moment I saw him.

I was obsessed with the man and Philippe actually encouraged it. I did not tell him about the other thoughts. I did not tell him how his eyes seemed to haunt me, how the familiarity with which he spoke to me bothered me, and how I could almost now swear he had been smiling at me. No, not at me. He had been smiling at someone else. He had been looking at someone else. There had been that moment when he had realized it and his expression completely changed. I had been too annoyed at him to really take note of it before, but I knew my feelings of uncertainty and his reaction to me were related. I could not tell Philippe any of this, and I was glad that I had been able to hide my thoughts from him.

I blamed these thoughts on the memories of the time I spent in his home underneath the opera house after the masquerade or even before then. I did not understand why I felt those… things towards him, but I knew that I had. It was as though I were watching myself from afar. Those memories were not my own, they were of someone else. Those feelings were not my own, they were that person's. I knew they could not be my own because at this moment, this very moment in the carriage with Philippe, I did not feel anything special towards the Phantom. Feelings like that do not simply fade.

With Christine, I had at least come to my senses both before I had changed and after the fact. The reasoning may have differed, but it did not change the outcome. I did not want her. I now scoffed at ever thinking of her in such a way. However, it was different with the Phantom… Erik. I should have learned my lesson with Christine, but he was the complete opposite of her.

All I felt towards the Phantom… Erik… I shook my head in frustration. That was it. I could not stand it anymore. That, his name in my head, had been happening a lot lately. I ignored the voice in my head that supplied that name every time I thought about… him. I usually tried to ignore it and just continue with what I was thinking, but it was so damn frustrating. It was only a name. I clenched my jaw. If only it were just a name, but it was not as though my mind just supplied it. It was my voice, mine, calling out to him. Every time… calling out to him in desperation. It was a desperation I did not remember ever feeling. I was resolute to never let that name pass through my lips. I feared what would happen.

It all came down to the fact that he was dangerous. He had some control over me. He had clouded my mind with his singing and those thoughts were remnants of our last meeting. I would kill him, and any other emotion or thought pertaining to him would simply be nonexistent.

I had often wondered if my life before now had all been some sort of dream. It would be a terrible dream, but at least then, it would make some sense.

"When we get there," Philippe started without preamble. His words provided a much needed distraction from my own thoughts. They were entirely too confusing and therefore too dangerous for my own good, "we will first visit Christine to check how well she's doing. I will remain in the wing of the stage to be close at hand, and you will go sit in the Phantom's box."

I nodded my head though I thought it to be unfair that he would be closer to the Phantom… Erik… when he did appear. This was my fight, not his. I decided against voicing my opinion though. I would have my chance. I knew I would.

"There will be guards there with you. If and when you see him, signal me first before doing anything. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand quite well," I replied. We would need the cooperation of everyone to be able to catch him, so it was not the time to be selfish, "We've been through this already many times. I am well prepared." And I was. I was ready for this; I had to be.

Philippe looked at me in the way he had been doing so much lately. He was trying to gauge how far I had come. He nodded absently before turning to look at the scenery.

We arrived at the opera house to a group of soldiers and the managers anxiously waiting at the front doors.

When I stepped out of the carriage, the managers said quick greetings, but casually pushed me aside. I frowned at their insolence. Who did they think they were dealing with? I would show them all how strong I truly was. They would realize who the real patron of this opera house was. However, I allowed them to rush towards Philippe. He was in charge of this whole effort, and I could tell that the managers were much too frenzied to realize how rude they were being.

Philippe calmly stepped down and looking at the managers stated, "No need to be in such a state. You will make our audience uneasy."

Firmin whispered hoarsely, "You do not think they will not be nervous with all the soldiers around?"

I smirked. It was quite true. It did not look like another performance at the opera house. Then again, the audience might be ignorant enough not to realize that something was about to occur.

"Let us go in shall we," Philippe started to walk. The managers walked beside him talking to him, and the guards followed so closely that I was forced to walk at the very back of the group. Although I could not hear everything, I knew what they were talking about. It was simple really. I did not understand why they had to review the plan so many times. Lock to doors. Wait for a signal. Then shoot to kill. There really was not much else to it.

Instead of listening to them worry about it, I chose to ignore them. I looked around at the others. I caught sight of a number of soldiers with their guns ready lurking behind every corner. There were audience members mingling in the hallways and laughing. Were they all so foolish? Did they not sense the tension that hung in the air?

I quickly glanced around feeling the eyes of someone following me. Anywhere else, I would have thought it was simple paranoia, but considering where we were, I knew that it was not. It had to be him, but I could not see him anywhere. I knew he did not want to be found, but why be so obvious when watching someone? He must know that people could tell when they were being watched; however, looking around once more at the clueless individuals around me, I doubted he realized I could tell he was watching me. It was disconcerting though. I grasped the hilt of my sword and glared at the walls not knowing where else to do so. I knew our confrontation would occur soon enough though.

I followed Philippe ignored by everyone but the man we were chasing and watched as Philippe instructed the guards where to go. I thought about telling Philippe that the Phantom… Erik… was watching us, but decided that there was nothing we could do about it yet, so it would be useless telling him. Finally, he sent the managers to their seats and we headed towards the stage.

When we arrived, Christine was pacing in the back. She did not want to be here that much was obvious. Meg was nearby trying to comfort her, but she looked distracted as well. Carlotta was loudly complaining to anyone who would listen, and Piangi was fussing with his cloak. None of the performers looked very well. I had never seen them so anxious before. I wondered if this would all go as planned. It seemed less likely as time passed by.

When Meg saw us walking towards her, she acknowledged our presence with a small tilt of her head before leaving. Christine finally took notice of us when Meg left. She ran to Philippe hugging him. I heard Philippe whisper in her ear, "It's quite alright. We'll be here every step of the way."

She nodded but held onto him longer.

If she were anything more than a ballet rat, I would have felt sorry that we were using her as bait. As it were though, with my history with her, I felt a little glad she was bait. I watched them interact, once again completely ignored… yet not. I looked away from them in favour of looking around once more. Maybe I would be able to see a glimpse of him, and then we would not have to go through this whole ordeal. I wondered how he could follow us through all the rooms we had passed. I had not felt his gaze leave me once. I could picture his eyes more clearly than I wanted to admit.

I did not realize until Philippe put his hand on my shoulder that they had stopped talking.

"Why don't you go on ahead to Box 5?" He suggested.

I nodded and left with two guards following. I was a little surprised when I felt the gaze following me still. I thought for certain the Phantom… Erik… would stay with Philippe and Christine. I thought the only reason I sensed him was because he was watching Philippe closely. Why would he watch me?

I entered Box 5 and looked out over the audience. It looked to be a full house. I looked towards the stage, but the curtains blocked any sight I could have had of Philippe and Christine. I was about to sit down when I realized that there was a rose on top of a note on the seat. I picked up the rose and saw that there was a black ribbon tied to it. Who else could it have been from? I looked around the box but found nothing else out of place.

I picked up the note and read:

Raoul

Since you have failed in our initial agreement, if you remember the terms well enough you should realize that the ultimatum you had given me was void. If you wish to have your memory refreshed, I believe the deal was that if you had stayed within the opera house for seven days, I would return the ring to you. If you failed, you would expect nothing from me and since your desires will mean nothing to me, I would do as I please. I will hold you to that agreement for I remember you to be an honourable man.

Furthermore, the ultimatum you gave to me on that seventh day hardly covers the debt you have incurred. You will have to find some other means to repay me for my kindness. I would be glad to offer you several suggestions. Though I fear you will still try to kill me, I hope you will at least stay and enjoy my opera. I do believe it will be enlightening.

Erik

I did not know why, but the note made me blush. What was the man trying to insinuate? I forcibly ignored that portion of the letter and focused on the rest.

"Vicomte?"

I turned to the guard who had spoken.

"Is something the matter?"

I shook my head and turned away from him. I walked to the railing and let my gaze wander. Of course, I remember the agreement we had made. I remember I had been so close to obtaining the ring. I had been so close to ending all of this insanity, but then Christine left. And, everything changed that day.

However, a deal then hardly affects the present. I would have liked to believe those words, but I had given my word and I had failed. I could not let the man go wild though. I could not give him free reign in my opera house. He was right about one thing. I would still try to kill him.

I had to wonder though. How did he know I would be here? Were we all playing into his plan instead of the other way around? I looked at the rose.

"Raoul."

I started at Philippe's voice and for some reason quickly hid the note in my jacket.

"Philippe?" I turned around feeling foolish holding a rose, "What are you doing here?"

He looked at me suspiciously before reaching out to grab the rose from my hand. "A gift from an admirer," he mocked.

I frowned at him, "You know very well who it is from. And, you haven't answered my question."

He sat down picking off some imaginary lint from his jacket. "We," he began, "Christine and I that is. We have decided that it would be best if you were waiting in the wings of the stage since you are better acquainted with the Opera Ghost…"

…Erik…

"… and I would simply be guessing."

I nodded my head angry that I had almost missed the rest of his sentence because of that voice.

"I told her I could very well tell when a masked man appeared, but she said she would not be risking her life if I could not notice his presence quickly enough," he grinned, "So, you are to stand there and be her guard."

"I understand." I was almost out the door when Philippe commented to me.

"I'll be watching you."

I did not bother to turn around. As I headed back toward the stage, I wondered if I could stand someone else watching me. Not only watching me though, he was following me. I was almost certain he was waiting to kidnap me again. However, the hallways were full not only of audience members, but of soldiers as well.

I reached the stage and stood to the side by Christine. I did not bother speaking to her. She was merely a ballet rat. I had nothing to say to her. Perhaps I could say, 'I hope you do not get killed tonight.' But, I did not think I could sound sincere enough in saying it. Thankfully, she was ignoring me as well.

The orchestra was preparing and the lights were being dimmed. The opera was about to begin. The gaze that had been following me finally left and I knew it meant that he was preparing himself for the opera. He was preparing for his appearance tonight. I glanced up at the rafters and wondered if he was going to come from there. I looked behind me and saw that there were enough props to hide behind. Maybe he was going to come from behind. Wherever he was going to show up though, there would be soldiers.

The curtains were drawn and the music began. It was a cacophony of sound. I glanced out into the audience and saw their expressions. They grimaced and held their ears. I peaked out and glanced up at Philippe. He too did not look pleased with the sound. It was to be expected. It was not what they were used to.

I knew that I should feel the same way as them, but there was something more than just that discordant sound. There was something beneath it that seemed to reach me. The initial sound was like a mask. It was a little frightening and practically screamed (thanks to Carlotta) to stay away. It warded people away from what was hidden beneath it. It was undeniably the Phantom's… Erik's… opera.

I winced when I heard Carlotta singing, but knew that it could not be helped. At least her part was over. The music then combined the intensity from the opening with something more furtive. It was an interesting juxtaposition, but I could not focus on it. I glanced around the stage half expecting him to show up at any moment. Sure, we were performing his opera exactly as he told us to, but that did not mean he would do nothing. In fact, everyone thought he was going to do something.

Passarino, faithful friend,
once again recite the plan.

Your young guest believes I'm you -
I, the master, you, the man
When you met you wore my cloak,
with my scarf you hid your face.
She believes she dines with me,
in her master's borrowed place!

I scoffed at the topic though. The opera would of course be about a man tricking a woman into relations. I momentarily watched the performance before once again turning my attention to more important matters. I looked up the rafters, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps we were all being too paranoid. Perhaps he would do nothing. Perhaps…

Furtively, we'll scoff and quaff,
stealing what, in truth, is mine.
When it's late and modesty
starts to mellow, with the wine ...

Wait. My head whipped towards Piangi. What did he just say? Why did those words sound familiar? I wracked my brain for anything. Nothing was coming to mind though. It was probably just my imagination.

I noticed Christine looking at me oddly. I shook my head. I had reacted oddly, but it had not been because of the Phantom… Erik. She looked away from me and towards Box 5. Although I could not see it from my position, I too glanced that way. Philippe would be sitting there waiting in anticipation. I could just picture it.

You come home! I use your voice -
slam the door like crack of doom!
I shall say: "come - hide with me!
Where, oh, where? Of course - my room!"

Christine looked anxious. Once again, I had to wonder. How could she be so nervous? The Phantom… Erik… was in love with her. He would not hurt her, would he? I was starting to doubt that though. She was going along with the plan. Surely, he would not be too pleased, but I was certain that he realized she had not much of a choice in the matter.

I did my scan of the stage once more. I reached up to adjust my jacket when I remembered the note in my pocket.

Poor thing hasn't got a chance!
Here's my hat, my cloak and sword.
Conquest is assured,
if I do not forget myself and laugh ...

I paused in my movements. I had the feeling of déjà vu again. What was going on? There had to be a reason. Christine glared at me momentarily before heading out to the stage.

This plan depended on my attentiveness. I could not let myself be distracted. I could not…

"... no thoughts
within her head,
but thoughts of joy!
No dreams
within her heart
but dreams of love!"

No way.

Was this whole opera meant to confuse me?

I definitely remembered those words. Who said them though? 'No dreams within her heart but dreams of love?' No dreams within her heart…'

-I did not know whether or not he needed a response to that, but I replied nonetheless. Looking at the stage, I spoke jokingly, "No dreams within my heart but dreams of love."-

I had said it? He had used our conversation in his opera, but why?

My attention was fixed on the stage. Piangi returned in a hooded cloak, which draped over his body loosely and hung low over his face.

Master?

Passarino - go away!
For the trap is set and waits for its prey ...

I gasped and closed my eyes. It was him. Erik. I allowed the name to be spoken willingly in my head for the first time since that day so long ago. I could not move though. I wanted to tell my body to signal Philippe that he was not going to show up in the box or in the rafters. He was on stage.

What was happening to me? I was a Vicomte. I was stronger than this. It did not matter what his voice sounded like. It did not matter that it washed over me like wave after wave until I could barely breathe.

You have come here
in pursuit of
your deepest urge,
in pursuit of
that wish,
which till now
has been silent,
silent ...

I opened my eyes at those familiar words. 'In pursuit of your deepest urge.' Those feelings had felt so foreign. They had not been mine. Yet, I suddenly felt that they were. I could almost understand why I had felt those things, why I had acted as I had. Almost.

I watched as Christine stood there on stage with him at the mercy of his voice. I wondered if she realized that it was him. She should. He had been her tutor. Piangi sounded nothing like that.

I realized belatedly that everyone had gathered around the edges of the stage entranced by Erik's voice.

I could not allow myself to be entranced. I had to signal Philippe, but my body still would not listen to me. I could not help but stare at the stage as the scene played out.

I have brought you,
that our passions
may fuse and merge -
in your mind
you've already
succumbed to me
dropped all defenses
completely succumbed to me -
now you are here with me:
no second thoughts,
you've decided,
decided ...

It was then that I felt the familiar gaze on me. The hood was covering his face, but I knew he was staring at me. He was watching me.

It made me shiver. I stared back. I could do nothing but stare back. My heart was pounding loudly in my chest and I could not breathe properly.

What was he doing to me? Why was I letting him do this to me?

Past the point
of no return -
no backward glances:
the games we've played
till now are at
an end ...
Past all thought
of "if" or "when" -
no use resisting:
abandon thought,
and let the dream
descend ...

Oh all the insanity, I felt as I though he were singing to me. Everyone else faded away. It was almost as though I were back in the hallway confronting him again. It was as though he were singing to me. He was calling to me.

I had to respond. I had to answer his call.

I fought against it. What was there to fight against though? I reached for the hilt of my sword and grabbed it tightly. I was here to kill him. I was here to make certain he never crossed paths with a Chagny ever again.

I could not breathe though. Of all the training I had done, I did not know why this struggle was one of the hardest. I wanted to lose myself in his voice.

What raging fire
shall flood the soul?
What rich desire
unlocks its door?
What sweet seduction
lies before
us ...?

I was able to pull myself away from his grasp when he gaze turned away from me. He held Christine close and faced the audience.

I was a pawn.

That thought had stayed with me. Of all the thoughts and emotions I had felt were so foreign, that was the only one I could fully understand. I had been a pawn. I had been a pawn not only to Philippe but to Erik as well. Philippe wanted prestige. I had been a hindrance to that before. Erik wanted Christine. I had been a hindrance to that before as well. It had once hurt to think of them as similar, but who was I fooling?

They were both survivors. They did what was necessary to survive in this world and obtain what they desired. It was I who had been the fool. I should have realized sooner that if you were not using someone, you were being used.

Erik, no the Phantom was only using me as a pawn. I had to signal Philippe. I managed to step out further so that I could catch Philippe's eye; however, he stepped away from her then. Erik stepped away from Christine and his gaze seemed to burn as they landed on me once more. I was frozen staring into eyes that I could not physically see.

Past the point
of no return,
the final threshold -
what warm,
unspoken secrets
will we learn?
Beyond the point
of no return ...

It no longer seemed to matter that I was only being used as a pawn.

Nothing mattered besides his voice and the desire to go to him. I almost took a step forward when he stopped singing.

You have brought me
to that moment
where words run dry,
to that moment
where speech
disappears
into silence,
silence ...

Christine's voice brought me out of my stupor. Erik's gaze had not left me, but without his voice, I felt as though I could breathe once more. The only remnant of his power over me was the dull ache in my chest.

I glanced at Philippe and motioned that Erik was on stage. He nodded, but I noticed that his attention was elsewhere. Christine was staring at him as she sung. She was very furtive with her glances, but I could tell she and Philippe were looking at each other.

Once again, I took some pleasure knowing that she would be hurt by him after all this was through. Who did she think she was?

I have come here,
hardly knowing
the reason why ...
In my mind,
I've already
imagined our
bodies entwining
defenseless and silent -
and now I am
here with you:
no second thoughts,
I've decided,
decided ...

I wondered what Philippe was waiting for. He should have given the signal to kill Erik by then. I had wanted to do it myself, but if my reaction to his singing were any indication, it would be a very difficult fight.

I glanced at Philippe once more and realized that he was captivated in watching their duet. In fact, as I glanced around the stage at soldiers and performers, then to the audience, I realized that everyone was watching with avid interest. It was as though they all knew something was happening at that very moment. I knew that was not the case though. They were all simply captured by Erik's voice.

At least I knew I was not the only one. I was not the only one to be caught in his spell.

Surprisingly, it was that thought that somehow freed me from it.

Past the point
of no return -
no going back now:
our passion-play
has now, at last,
begun ...
Past all thought
of right or wrong -
one final question:
how long should we
two wait, before
we're one ...?

Perhaps it was because Christine sang with him, but I no longer felt frozen by his voice. I no longer felt the desire to go to him. I still felt his eyes upon me. His gaze still burned and it still made my heart ache for some reason, but it was not the all-encompassing control over my body as before.

I could not deny his voice was amazing. I knew that if I allowed myself, I would lose myself in it once more. Now, I felt as though I could fight it.

He would die by my sword. I watched and waited for a moment when I could slay him. It was not as though I could simply walk on stage and kill him in front of the audience.

When will the blood
begin to race
the sleeping bud
burst into bloom?
When will the flames,
at last, consume
us ...?
Past the point
of no return
the final threshold -
the bridge
is crossed, so stand
and watch it burn ...
We've passed the point
of no return ...

Once again, he was holding her. She looked to be intoxicated by his voice. I wondered if I looked like that when he sang.

Soldiers were moving into position. The time was coming. I wondered how we would be able to separate them. Erik was holding onto her tightly. I did not think it would be the best plan to shoot them both. Hopefully Christine would find a way to separate herself from him. Otherwise, it would truly be troublesome to find another prima donna.

Say you'll share with
me one
love, one lifetime ...
Lead me, save me
from my solitude ...
Say you want me
with you,
here beside you ...
Anywhere you go
let me go too -
Christine
that's all I ask of ...

Those words. Of all the words to sing, why would he sing those words? Why would he sing those words and still be looking at me. I knew Christine and no one else could tell, but I could feel his gaze on me. They were words that would have once swayed my thoughts. I knew that I had wanted to hear those words from him at one point. Luckily, I was smarter now. I knew better than to believe him.

Christine unmasked him and everyone who looked gasped and screamed in horror. I neither gasped nor screamed. When I looked at him, I saw his deformity, but everything I knew about him seemed to come to mind at the moment of his unmasking. It was flesh and bone. He had seen my back and now I had seen his face. It was only proper that I not react badly. How could I react badly to seeing it? We both had secrets. They had both been revealed.

A mask. It was all a mask. My mind lingered on the concept, almost as though stuck in a loop.

He looked at her with hatred before his gaze fell on me once more. I briefly wondered if he expected her to unmask him. Then I caught his eyes and we stood there for a moment. It was as though he were challenging me to follow him. In a flash of light and smoke, they were gone and suddenly the chandelier was falling. I saw people scattering from the heavy fixture and I could tell who would not make it.

I had to follow them.

I distantly heard Carlotta's scream and the rush of feet as everyone tried to evacuate. There was fire climbing to the ceiling and the only thought I had was that I had to find them.

I raced towards the one person who had connections with him. Madame Giry.

"Where has he taken her?"

"Monsieur le Vicomte! Come with me!" she yelled and hurriedly walked.

I followed and realized that Philippe was close behind. He nodded a hello and though he tried to seem grim, I could see a smile on his face.

"Can we trust you?" Philippe asked.

"You must," she commented and glared at him, "But remember: your hand at the level of your eyes."

"But why?" he asked.

I answered for him, "The Punjab lasso."

I held up my hand in demonstration. I had had a long time to think about how Erik might kill me. It only made sense that since Buquet had been killed with a lasso that he would prefer it.

The rest of the trip was silent. Madame Giry brought us through a hidden passageway to a spiral of stairs. We were making our way down when she suddenly stopped.

"This is as far as I go."

I thanked her and started down. I pulled off my jacket and checked on Philippe behind me. I did not understand why he was lagging. I thought he would want to be the first there. Suddenly I fell through a trap.

I did not even have time to scream as I fell into cold water. I heard the door click shut behind me. I looked around worriedly. How was I going to get out of here?

"Philippe!" I called to him.

After a moment, I heard him reply, "I'm going ahead Raoul."

"Philippe!" He could not just leave me here. Suddenly, a metal grate from above began to descend. "Philippe!"

I cursed him. He had left me here to die. I dove under water looking for a way to get out. I thankfully spotted the device that seemed to control the metal grate. Grabbing the wheel attached to a gear, I struggled to turn it. What good was all that training I had done if I was going to drown?

I quickly swam to the surface to get a breath of air. I almost was not able to since the grate was descending much quicker than I had thought. Once again, I grabbed the wheel and tried to turn it. I struggled with it more and the thought crossed my mind that this might not even control the grate. I almost believed that I would die when the wheel gave way and the grate began to rise.

I scurried to the surface panting heavily. I pulled myself out of that deathtrap and looked around the tunnel I had climbed into warily. How many other traps were there just waiting for me to set off?

Was that why Philippe had lagged behind me? He had been using me as a minesweeper. I should have realized. Now how was I to get to them though? I realized that some water was flowing past me. I had assumed it had been excess water from the trap, but it seemed to be rather steady. I knew that Erik lived across a lake. If I followed the water, maybe I would be able to find the lake.

I followed the water feeling cold and miserable. At least, I still had my sword. I wished that I had my jacket though. It was cold and there seemed to be a slight breeze that picked up every now and then whose only purpose seemed to make me shiver uncontrollably. I did not know how many tunnels I had gone through, but it felt as though I was going nowhere.

I wondered if Philippe had managed to get to Erik's lair yet. It would be a shame if I came too late. It would be worse if I died forever lost in these tunnels. At least, I had yet to fall into another trap though.

I started to run partly because it would help warm me up and partly because I could swear, I heard Erik's voice.

I quickly waded through the water towards a portcullis.

"What a shame," Erik spoke. He was kneeling on someone with a rope in hand.

Seeing Christine practically hanging nearby I immediately knew it was Philippe. I could not believe he had lost. How long had they been fighting?

"Release him!" I shouted.

Erik did not respond but finished tying Philippe up. He tossed him easily to the side waiting a beat before turning towards me.

"Vicomte," he said and I could detect no mocking in his tone. "I'm so glad you could make it."

I grasped the portcullis hearing Christine whimper and Philippe moan.

"Free them. Do what you like only free them!" I yelled and I realized what I was doing. I was begging. I would beg no longer. I ordered, "Let me see them."

I wondered if he would listen to me even though I had ordered him to do so. He paused for a moment looking at his captives and then towards me.

"Be my guest sir," he replied and pulled a lever. The portcullis shuddered and slowly lifted up.

I ducked under the gate and walked warily towards them. I paused a short distance away thinking I would be safe.

Erik stalked towards me, "It seems we have a full house tonight, do we not?"

"Free them," I stated calmly.

"A lot has happened," he continued as though he had not heard me. He walked closer to me, "I could free them, but," he reached into the water and the noise of the portcullis dropping behind me caused me to turn around. Suddenly, there was the lasso around my neck. I threw my hand up quickly and the lasso fell around my shoulders. Even then, he tied me. He easily overpowered me. "Why would I want to free them when I could just capture you all?"

He wrapped the rope around my arms and torso and threw me against the portcullis. From behind him, I could see that Christine had somehow managed to free herself from the ropes and she had started on freeing Philippe. I struggled harder against him hoping to distract him long enough. Erik only held onto me tighter. I was surprised that he was avoiding my injuries. They had all healed, but it was as though he were consciously avoiding them.

"Release me!" I screamed. With him so close, I could almost remember those thoughts I had in the past. He was not very rough in tying me and I could hear that voice in my head calling out to him.

He whispered, "Never," in my ear and I stopped struggling. That had not been the response I was expecting. He had spoken that one word with such intensity that I was taken aback.

He looked behind him and saw that they were free from their bonds. He screamed, "You wretched woman you!"

Christine was in Philippe's arms. Erik stalked towards them, but Philippe held up his hands in supplication.

"Perhaps we should make a deal."

Erik paused, and I wondered what Philippe had up his sleeves. Would he leave me again?

"What deal?" Erik asked warily.

"Free us," Philippe motioned to him and Christine, "and do what you like with him," he pointed to me. I glared at him. He was going to leave me again. He was going to leave me to die. However, I doubted that death was what Erik had in mind. "We will never return."

He would never accept that deal. Erik actually paused. He looked towards me, and in that moment, Philippe caught my eyes. He motioned that I should kill him. I looked towards Erik. Would he accept the deal? If he did, I wondered if he would actually free me long enough to attempt to kill him. This must be Philippe's way of giving me the opportunity to kill him. I had to succeed somehow.

"Go and never return," Erik said plainly pointing to a passageway. He watched them as they left. He waited a few moments watching the exit they had just gone through.

Turning to me, he smiled. I knew he had smiled at me before. I could not understand why though. Why did he look at me like that?

"Raoul."

My name had never felt so weighty. There were so many emotions attached to my name when he said it.

He looked at me warily. He seemed to deflate. All the bravado and anger of moments ago seemed to vanish. He only seemed exhausted. He reached my side and cautiously raised his hand up. I flinched, but he did not hit me. He rested his palm on the side of my face and sighed deeply. His head dropped beside mine leaning against the portcullis. I tensed at the contact. What was he planning to do?

He murmured more to himself than to me, "I don't know what I'm going to do."

I started at his words though. It was as though he had heard my thoughts.

His thumb stroked my cheek and I could feel the blood rush to my face. Was this what his 'suggestions' for repaying his kindness had been?

He sighed once more before pulling away from me.

"You still want to kill me," he stated more as a fact than a question.

I wondered if I should lie, but something told me that I should not. It was not as though he did not know. I nodded my head.

He nodded too. He left my side to go on shore and I wondered if he was going to leave me tied there. He grabbed a sword and walking towards me resolutely, he swung. I closed my eyes certain I was going to die when I heard the clang of the sword hitting the portcullis. Suddenly the ropes that had held me fell to the water.

I opened my eyes in confusion.

He met my gaze evenly and with more than a little bit of sadness said, "Let us see how cruel fate can be. Come."

I pulled my sword out of its sheath not willing to take any more chances. Apparently, Erik wanted to see who the better fighter was. I would show him that I had trained enough to know that I would win. Like I had known weeks before, he would die by my sword.

I quickly lunged to his right side knowing it had been wounded before. He easily parried and stepped away. I swung towards his head then torso in quick succession, but he easily blocked it. I had not realized that he was so quick. This water was not making it any easier either. I maneuvered my way onto the dry land.

"Raoul."

I ignored my name. I was concentrating. He would probably try to distract me. I lunged and swung viciously at him. He somehow stayed just outside my reach and what was close was easily blocked. I had trained. I had spent hours and hours concentrating. How could I not land a single blow?

"Are you truly that weak?"

That caught my attention. "Weak?" I scoffed. It did not look as though he were mocking me though. I wondered what he was talking about. More than that though, I wondered why he was not attacking. He was only defending. I could not find a single flaw in his defense. The only way I could possibly hurt him is if I found a flaw in his offense. He would not attack though.

"Were you so weak to give up that easily?"

I angrily charged him. I swiped at every body part I could: arm, leg, torso. Repeat. Arm, leg, head. Every time he dodged, I plunged forward. Every time he parried, I attacked a different body part. I could get nothing though.

"How could you let Philippe win?"

I glared at him. "What are you talking about?" I swung my sword down towards his head. He blocked it. I tried to force his sword down but he held strong.

"You're just like him."

I faltered. Some part of me thought that was bad. How could that be though? I was trying to be just like him. "Good," I gritted out. I pulled back.

"No, you didn't want to be like him."

How could he be so calm right now? Why wasn't he out of breath? Why was he asking me all these questions?

I screamed in frustration before attacking him again. He sidestepped a lunge and grabbed my arm. Stepping behind me, he grabbed me in a bear hug effectively immobilizing my arms. I wiggled but he held firm. I stopped struggling and responded, "How would you know that?"

"I just do," his words brushed against my neck and I struggled more.

Erik!

The voice was almost unbearably loud.

He was only trying to lower my defenses. I had to be strong. It was just like with before when he had tried to kidnap me.

"Let me go."

He hugged me tighter and the scars on my back suddenly flared to life. They had not bothered me for a while now. I was too strong for that. I was a Vicomte. Of all the times to choose to act up again? Now, they were unbearable. What was he doing to me? Why did they hurt so much? It felt as though they were burning through my back. The pain radiated from my back and into my arms. The sword dropped uselessly from my hand. The pain then radiated down to my legs, which suddenly gave out. We lurched forward. Erik had not been expecting that.

He released me long enough to break our fall. I hit the floor hard enough to cause more pain but nothing serious. I landed a few feet away from him. He stared at me as I lay on the floor motionless. The pain was not subsiding. I clenched my eyes shut and waited and prayed that the pain would go away. I was not even lying on my back. Yet, somehow, the pain did not abate. How could I lose in such a manner?

"Raoul," he spoke softly to me as though I were some skittish wild animal, "what's wrong?"

I tried to ignore him. I tried to ignore his kindness – the one he had given me not only now but from before. I looked at the sword that was an arm's distance away. If I could move my arm, I could get it. I could kill him. I knew that I could neither grab the sword nor kill him.

He knelt beside me and checked to see if there was any blood.

"Hurts." I managed to get out. I was surprised that I could speak at all. My lungs felt like they were on fire.

He looked up quickly as though he had heard something.

I held my breath focusing on everything but the pain.

"You aren't," I began without knowing just why, "going to kill me now, are you?"

He looked down at me surprised. His lips upturned slightly before he scoffed. He placed a hand on my forehead, Though he was not looking at me, he He placed his Hand it was oddly comforting. "Does it look like I'm going to kill you?"

"Should," I gasped as the pain flared unexpectedly, "Should I know what that's supposed to look like?"

I grinned up at him. There were a million things wrong with having this conversation right now. I was supposed to be killing him. He was supposed to be trying to kill me. We were enemies. I really did not know why I was saying these things. But of all the things I had done since our last meeting, this was the only thing that felt right. It was the only thing that did not feel amiss.

"You'll know," he responded.

And suddenly the pain decreased to a manageable amount. I took a deep breath. It took all of the energy I had to push myself away from him. Erik looked at me warily.

Standing up, he grabbed both our swords and offered me mine. I forced myself to stand. My legs felt weak. A barrage of memories seemed to attack me. There were so many things that seemed familiar to me. Not my memories. They had not been my memories. Yet they were.

"Shall we continue?"

I tentatively grabbed my sword. He was right. It did not matter that he had not attacked me when the pain had been too much. It did not matter that we had just shared that moment together. It did not matter that my memory was conspiring against me so that everything reminded me of what used to be. We were fighting. He was my enemy. Philippe had told me that it was a Vicomte's duty, and I was a Vicomte. Nothing had changed.

And it was that thought that made me pause. Nothing had changed? The truth was everything had changed. Everything had been changing so fast. I looked at Erik who simply waited for my next move. My next move…

"You've been doing all of this for me?" I wanted to know. Philippe had known that Erik would let them go if he had offered me. I thought he wanted Christine. To me, there had been no other reason to go through all that effort.

Erik nodded. "Of course."

I scoffed. Of course? Apparently, it was not that obvious to me. "Why?"

He considered the question for a moment. "Because," he decided on an answer, "you told me to stay."

I stepped closer to him letting my sword drop to the ground. I had wanted him to stay. More than anything else, I had wanted him to stay. That had been in the past too. I could see the hope in his eyes. And the word I had told myself would not cross my lips did "Erik?"

He looked relieved and dropped his own sword. He took a step towards me before suddenly lurching forward. He fell onto me and I unsteadily placed him on the floor. Philippe stood behind him with a triumphant grin on his face. He held the gun in his hand.

"Philippe!" I looked at Erik's form. He was still breathing. There was no blood and I had heard no gunshot.

"Hello Raoul. You did not think I would leave you behind, did you?"

I mentally rolled my eyes. Of course, he would leave me behind. "Why didn't you shoot him?"

"Oh," Philippe started to drag Erik away. "We should get going before the mob gets here. Help me out."

"No," I watched as Philippe tried to drag him away, "I want to know why you did not shoot him."

"I have other plans for him."

I scowled, "This was not part of the plan."

He shrugged. "It was not part of your plan. Plans change. Christine is waiting with the boat. We have to hurry."

"Give me the gun," I ordered, "It's not going to end like this."

Philippe outright laughed. "So that you can do what? Kill our ticket to fame? Now stop complaining and help me drag him."

I leaned forward pretending to grab Erik's arm and as Philippe grabbed his other arm, I lunged forward and knocked the gun from his grasp. I chased it down. It was not going to end like this. We had all had plans: Erik, me, Christine, and Philippe. I was tired of plans changing. I was tired of people changing. I was tired of change. I carefully aimed and fired.

The sound echoed loudly through the cavern.

o.o.o.o

End ch21

Word count: 10,537

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

Sorry for typos… I usually give a day separation before proofreading (since I tend to gloss over things after so many hours of working on a story), but I did writing and proofreading at the same time today so that I could use tomorrow for UTC22. I could just post this tomorrow, and you would not know the difference, but I've never really been good at sitting on a finished (hopefully with no typos) chapter.

Chapter Review: That was a bloody long song BTW. Yeah, I said someone was going to die. You won't find out until Chapter 23 though. TT

A lot happened and really fast too. I hope you don't think I'm rushing through this because I'm finally off hiatus (really really long hiatus, right?). I'm just finishing this as I had originally planned. This chapter was major action packed. A lot of reversals of fate, huh?