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. A Death.

Warning(s): violence

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Story note: Special last chapter (not counting the epilogue)
This one has a mixture of different POV's in one, so watch who's talking. I know you all want to know what happens anyway, a little more effort won't hurt. Oh, and remember that this is not going to end the way you want it to.

Author note: Thanks for all those who have read this. It's been one hell of a ride, right?

o.o.o.o

Unmasking the Chains

Chapter 23

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o

Last time:

Raoul's POV

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

Erik's POV.

What was this darkness?

This cold permeating darkness. Where was I? It was so dark I could hardly tell if my eyes were open or closed. I was seemingly suspended in air. I could not turn around or move. Or if I were moving, I could not tell the difference.

I remembered this darkness. Desperation, was it not? It felt different though. I no longer felt despair. By all accounts, I should probably be despairing by now, but I was not. This was a dream. I had had this dream before. There had been a beam of light and then I had been somewhere else. I looked around. It was a beam of light. There was no way that I could miss it.

After a while without seeing anything, I began to worry. Perhaps this was no dream. Perhaps I was dead. I laughed. I laughed maniacally even though there was no sound in this place. Was this hell? Purgatory? Was I to be trapped in darkness for all of eternity apart from everyone from everything?

I had been so close, been so close to having everything. Raoul had called my name, and I had actually thought things would turn out well. I laughed harder before the frustration and anger built up so strong within me that I was screaming. I was screaming in this silent vacuum and I wished I could hear the desolate sound of my madness.

It was then that I saw something. Ahead of me, a small flicker. It was no beam of light, but it was better than the nothing I had been seeing for what felt to be a while.

I willed myself to move closer. Instead of shining brighter, I noticed that it began to flicker unsteadily. It looked to be a candle with no candle, but a flame. I wondered how I was able to see it from such a distance. I wondered how the light was not just eaten by this darkness. I reached out to it, this fragile flame, and the cold I had been feeling seemed to vanish. It was suddenly warm. My hand kept reaching out of its own volition. I knew that I should stop or else I would be burned, but I could not help but be drawn by this light.

The moment my finger touched the flame, the light burst in the darkness blinding me for a few moments.

That was odd. He wondered why he had suddenly felt dizzy.

Shaking his head, he stared at his face in awe. Whenever he looked in the mirror, it was the same thing. He could not believe who looked back. He reached a hand up to slowly rub his now unmarred cheek. There was no deformity. He had not had one in a long time, but still he could not believe it. His face was perfect. Could fate really be this kind to him? This face never had to wear a mask.

No one stared in horror. They stared for other reasons now. Reasons that should have made him feel proud, but he could not bring himself to feel that. He could not bring himself to look at others without judging them.

Inevitably, whenever he saw anyone the thought would come unbidden, 'he would have paid to see a monster' or 'she would have screamed in fright.' In his mind, it was certain that everyone would have sent or joined a mob to kill him.

It had been so many years that he had been accepted into mainstream society but he could not fully be a part of them. He had yet to become close to anyone. Still, it surprised him that no matter how much he wanted to be alone, people would crowd about him. He would be dismissive, but he could not be completely rude. He remembered what uncaring and thoughtless actions produced. He remembered the life on the receiving end of those actions all too well. However, people mistook what civility he showed everyone as an invitation to be around him. He often longed for the times when people had shunned him because the loneliness he felt now amongst the throng of people was worse. It was worse to be surrounded by people who knew nothing about you and did not really want to know you.

Still he searched. He desperately scoured the world for that one person. He had been searching for so long now that he felt lost. He felt as though it had all been in vain. He had promised though. He had sworn to find that one person who would understand him. That one person who would see past the surface and tell him that it was okay to be who he was. Was it so hard to ask?

He would go out again today. He would walk the streets ignoring the looks people gave him, ignoring the suggestive glances from the women, and the glares from the men. He would look for that certain face that he could never forget. He would search because he had to. He needed this one thing and it was all that mattered. That person was all that mattered.

He wondered so often how much longer. Where was he?

How much longer could he stand this separation? How much longer was he to atone for his past sins? Of all the things he desired, the one thing he wanted he had not been able to find.

Where was Raoul?

I reached towards the mirror recognizing the desperation on his face, on my face. Instead of touching the cool solid glass as I had thought, my hand fell through and suddenly I was rolling on the hard floor of the Opera Populaire roof.

Disoriented for a moment, I shakily stood up and leaned against a statue. Turning around, as I expected, it was the horse statue. How many times would I have to see this scene? How many times would I hate myself for not being able to reach Raoul in time?

I closed my eyes and listened to the words I knew by heart.

Raoul's voice filled the air and it seemed to thrum with a vibrancy that was wholly Raoul.

Say you'll share with
me one
love, one lifetime ...

One love, one lifetime. Did we only get one chance at it? Was it fair if it was all one sided?

Lead me, save me
from my solitude ...

Those were not the lines. Those were my lines. They were the words I sang during the night of Don Juan Triumphant. I opened my eyes in shock and leaned around the horse statue to see what was happening.

Say you want me
with you,
here beside you ...
Anywhere you go
let me go too –

Raoul was alone. In fact, he was staring directly at me. I looked around in confusion. Where was Christine? This was not how it happened. I knew it to be a dream, but the dream never changed this much. It never changed history.

I looked back at Raoul. I could not deny that it looked as though Raoul were singing to me. To me?

Erik
that's all I ask of you.

Raoul took a step forward, and though everything in me told me to step forward as well, I was suddenly filled with uncertainty. I wondered if this was really Raoul, if this was really a dream. Even my dreams had never been kind to me. I involuntarily took a step back as he stepped forward once more and suddenly I was plummeting backwards.

He looked hurt and then I could see the fear in his eyes. I reached out to him realizing how stupid I had been to even for a moment doubt him.

"Erik!" He screamed out and I saw him reaching towards me.

My hand was so close to reaching him before he faded away and I was falling.

I screamed and shot up. I grabbed my head in agony before dropping back onto the hard floor. My head throbbed painfully. I opened my eyes slowly. I was in my home… alone. I sat up once more and though I was a little dizzy, I managed to stay up.

Why was I lying on the floor? More importantly, what had happened to everyone else? The last I remembered was… was Raoul holding a pistol. I forced myself to stand up. What had happened? I could guess that the Comte had been the one to return. I could guess that he had been the one who had hit me, but I would think he would come to finish the job. I would think that death would have taken me by now.

If Raoul had somehow saved me from him, then it meant that he was definitely back. My Raoul was back. If he was back, then I could not understand why I was alone.

I forced myself into a standing position. The room spun momentarily before righting itself.

Nothing was making sense right now, and this headache was not helping. I looked around but everything seemed to be in place. How had I been left unharmed even though I had been unconscious? Not only had there been the Comte, but I had heard sounds of a mob coming down as well.

There was nothing I could do here. I could not just stand and do nothing. I looked around for my mask, but I could find it nowhere. I was too frustrated to search for very much longer.

I made my way to the theatre. I was cautious, but it proved to be unnecessary. The opera house was completely empty. The chandelier was partly on the stage, in the orchestra pit, and shattered across the front row seats. The walls were burnt, seats damaged irreparably, and ground I walked upon was littered with debris from statues, fixtures, and chairs alike. I could not tell them apart.

It was sometime in the evening. The moon shone brightly, and I could hear carriages still moving outside. I could not believe that I had been unconscious for an entire day. I could not believe that I had remained unscathed. The opera house looked stripped of everything that may have survived. That meant the mob had indeed been here. How could they have not found me? Surely, the guards would have stopped at nothing to find me. I would have to just thank whatever luck was with me.

I walked through the hallways I could, but there were parts I could not reach. Everywhere I went, there was emptiness. It was the first time I had been able to walk freely in the opera house without a mask. It was the first time I had ever seen the Opera Populaire seem so… dead.

It was to be my fate as well, was it not? Raoul may have spared my life, but it seemed apparent that he did not feel the same I felt towards him. I could search for him. I could leave this dead place and search for that him hoping that I could take him and make him love me. There was nothing ensuring I would not be left alone again, but at least I would be able to see him again. I could try to take him.

I could try, but seeing my opera house in this state, it felt as though I too was dead. I too had been emptied and all hope and strength had been burned from me.

I returned to the stage to look one last time. I did not know where I was going. I could stay here and hope that I find some reason to live, some reason to fight for survival or I could leave and look for the life I wanted with Raoul. I doubted either would prove fruitful.

Standing on the stage where I had sang our song, I felt nothing but despair. A sharp intake of breath alerted me of someone else's presence. I turned around and there before me stood Christine.

I stared at her uncertain how to respond.

She looked just as surprised as I was. "Phantom."

I wanted to kill her. I wanted to drag her down into the despair I felt, but I could see she was quite desperate herself.

"You're well," she said taking a step closer to me.

I did not respond, but I did not move away from her. She looked worn, tired. She was holding a statue that had somehow survived the destruction. It dawned on me that she was pillaging the opera house. I managed to keep my smirk hidden. The Comte had surely left her.

"I was so-so…,"

While she searched for a proper word, I supplied my own, "Betrayed?"

She stepped back as though I had physically hit her.

"I had to," she defensively replied, "They all left."

I did not know what she was referring to. Of course, they had all left. The opera house had been burnt. I was surprised it was still standing.

She continued, "The Chagny's. They all disappeared. The estate has been emptied. It's like they had never been there to begin with."

So, she had been betrayed. Not only betrayed but left behind to fend for herself.

I turned away from her. I would kill her if she remained longer. I did not want to be around anyone. I did not want to see anyone. I only wanted to remain in this empty opera house and waste away along with it. She had said it herself. The Chagny's had fled. They could be anywhere by now. He could be anywhere.

"Phantom," she called and grabbed my arm. Did she not learn anything the last time she tried this? I glared at her and she released my arm immediately. She stepped back slowly but remained standing there staring at me, "we can go. We can find another opera house. You…" she faltered when I gave her no response, "you can tutor me again."

I stared at her. She had betrayed me, and she wanted me to go along with her. She wanted me to leave this opera house and once again be her angel of music. Was she insane?

I grabbed her ready to physically remove her from the opera house until I realized that this was my last chance. This was it. This was my last chance to be free of this place.

I looked at her and tried to remember what it felt like to be obsessed with her. There was nothing there, but she was offering me something I could not get here. She was offering me some sort of life. I would not fall for her lies, but I could find a way to use her as well.

The only question that remained in my mind was whether I deserved any type of life. I released her and nodded slowly. "Let's go."

She smiled brightly at me, and I felt a little sick. What was I doing? What happened to the clarity I had found so long ago? What happened to the hope of finding someone that would accept me as I was? I was giving it all away so that I could survive. It was all about survival. Forget about clarity.

Clarity.

"Let's go," she turned to leave.

I stopped her, "I cannot leave just yet."

She looked at me confused. Looking outside, she commented, "It's quite dark right now. Just cover your face with some cloak and you'll be fine."

I shook my head. "I'll meet you outside at midnight."

She shrugged but agreed nonetheless. "Midnight then, Angel."

She scurried out of the building presumably to make some arrangements.

I went down to my home one last time to grab a cloak. I did need to cover up my face if I was going to leave. I looked if there was anything else I would like to bring, but there was nothing. I had nothing worthwhile. There was my organ, but it was not as though I could bring it. I hardly felt like playing anymore.

There was only one last place to stop by. It was the reason I told Christine to meet me later. I had promised myself that I would return to the roof. I had found clarity there once, and though I had turned my back on it, I would return.

As I made my way to the roof, I could not help but feel as though everything had been in my grasp and it had all slipped away.

It was over. My opera was done. I had gotten Christine like I had initially planned.

I opened the door knowing that the clarity I had once felt would not be there. I had to be here though. I had to visit the roof when everything was done. It was done now, wasn't it?

I opened the door not quite expecting anything. What I had absolutely not expected was someone standing on the ledge next to the winged angel looking out at the city. The form was visible as the light from moon bathed him, and my breath caught in my throat as I thought that Raoul had never appeared so radiant as he did right now.

o.o.o

Raoul's POV

I heard the door open and the sharp intake of breath told me he had seen me. I knew he would come here eventually. This was where it all started and it was fitting that this was where it would end. I stared at the Paris skyline.

I had been standing here for a while. I spent most of the day on the roof. I had had a lot to think about.

I had been so tired. I had sat on the floor leaning against the ledge just waiting. I knew that I should have been down in the cellar waiting for Erik to wake up, but I could hardly stand to be in that place. I did not know what to say to him. He had practically confessed his feelings for me. No one person would go through all of that for anything less than love. I should have been happy. I was happy, but what could I say to him? What was I supposed to say to him? I did want to tell him I loved him back, but what did I really know about him? What did he know about me?

I knew his secrets and he knew mine. Our deepest darkest secrets were everything but secrets between us. 'What next' plagued me though? I just did not know. All I knew was that I felt suffocated even though I was outside. Once the sun had gone down, I stepped onto the ledge needing to be a little further from the theatre but not being able to leave it completely. There was a slight breeze. It had helped me breathe. It had calmed me, and so there I stood holding onto the wing of this stone angel just trying to breathe.

What was the point of it all? I did not know what I was struggling for and for whom. I was so confused. The scary part was that these past few weeks, I had not been confused. I had been so certain, so sure of what I was supposed to do. I was supposed to kill the Opera Ghost. I was supposed to be the perfect Vicomte and do everything right. It had been so clear to me.

Now, I knew that it was all false. That was not what I was supposed to do. That was not who I was supposed to be, but it had been easy. It had been so much easier being told what was right and how to act. At the moment that Philippe had started to drag Erik out, I just knew I could not do it anymore. Because of Erik, I had had some sense about me, but I had been tempted to just forget about him. I had been tempted to let myself become like Philippe. He had been right after all. I was weak. I wanted to give in. I could not let him take Erik though. I could not let him do that to him. Erik did not deserve it. No one deserved that fate.

As a result of that, I was back to being confused. Losing touch of everything I thought I had known was frightening. I had crashed and burned. I had… I scoffed at the phrase that came to mind. I had come to the point of no return. Hell, I had gone past it. For a moment, I wished I was in that darkness again – the one that both comforted and scared me. It was cold in that darkness, but I could not help but feel numb right now. Was there a difference? At least I could escape from everything in that darkness for a while. If I could just separate myself momentarily and get a good look at what was happening, it would be better. I could see it from a distance and know what the next step was.

I could figure out why I felt so alone, abandoned, and forgotten when I had been the one to actively choose that fate. I could maybe learn what existence really was. I was here, but I felt so far away. I felt so disjointed; so lost on the moment. I was everywhere but here yet nowhere but here. Why was it so confusing?

"Raoul," I heard him whisper almost reverently. I did not respond. I could hear him walk closer to me. He had gone through hell for me. It was odd to think that he returned my feelings. I knew he did now and felt relieved. That knowledge did not fix everything. It did not fix me.

"Raoul." This time it was stronger.

Once again, he spoke to me as though I were a skittish wild animal. Did I look to be that fragile? I laughed silently to myself. I was that fragile, wasn't I? I had already broken once. I had barely been able to pull myself together in time.

I had saved him though. I had done something good.

"You…" he sounded surprised, "What are you doing here?"

I turned to face him, a self-deprecating smile in place, "Me and cellars don't work well together."

I noticed him grimace. I wondered if he had understood what I was referring to. I had never told him about what Philippe had done to me. Maybe he was thinking about what had just occurred. That battle in his home was nothing. Though if I thought about it long enough, what Philippe had done to me was nothing as well. It was all in the past. It was something that could not be changed. There was no need for him to worry.

"It's nothing. I just needed air," turning away from him, I took a deep breath looking out over the city again, "and the view is amazing here."

He did not know what to say, and I did not feel like breaking the silence. I listened to the wind as it brushed past me. I sighed. Too bad directly beneath me lay the remnants of a once beautiful opera house.

He walked closer to me. The gravel crunched beneath his feet. "This place was the only bit of freedom I had."

I glanced over my shoulder at him and smiled in understanding. "I know the feeling."

He nodded, and I knew he understood. He probably understood all too well after everything that had happened.

We spoke at the same time.

"I thought you had left." "I noticed that you redecorated."

We both paused. He motioned for me to go ahead even though his statement seemed more important.

I repeated anyway, "I noticed that you redecorated your home." I had been so concentrated on Erik, Philippe, and Christine that it was not until all that frenzied activity had died down that I realized Erik's home seemed so empty. There was nothing that reminded me of Christine, unlike before.

He reached the ledge I stood upon and leaned his arms against it, "It had been pointless keeping all those memories of her." He glanced up at me, but I refused to look. "I wanted nothing to do with her."

I laughed. "I know that feeling too."

He looked at the city, "I thought you had left."

I sighed. "No."

He waited a moment expecting more, but what else could I say? There was nowhere else I could be.

"I'm right here."

He nodded. He reached out tentatively as though I were a ghost myself. He touched my calf and the relief I saw on his face uplifted my spirit. He let his hand drop, slowly brushing my leg until his arm was back on the ledge.

"What happened?" He finally asked his voice a little less heavy.

I was wondering the same thing, but I knew that was not what he meant. I told him what happened after he had been hit.

o.o.o (Raoul's POV flashback.) o.o.o

Erik 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.

Philippe looked at me in shock. Erik lay on the floor unharmed and Philippe had moved some distance away from him. I looked at the man who was supposed to be my brother as he cowered. I had aimed near him, but not at him. I could not kill him.

Seeing him smirk at me, I changed that thought. I could kill him, but I did not want to.

"What are you doing?" He asked looking between me and Erik.

I kept the pistol aimed at him, "That is the only warning I'm going to give you."

He looked at me warily. "Brother…"

"Don't 'brother' me," I spat back. "Leave and never return. In fact, leave Paris altogether."

I saw him glancing at Erik.

He began to back away, "The mob will get you."

"Which is why you will be going out there to stop them," I replied.

He looked at me incredulously. I had seen Erik's mask earlier. Grabbing it, I threw it at him. He caught it and looked at it strangely.

"If I see you or even one mob member here, I will kill you."

Philippe did not move. He was staring at the mask.

I continued, "I will burn down the estate only after killing you in your sleep."

He looked at me and knew that it was no idle threat. And it was not. I was willing to do it all. I had reached my breaking point. I had had enough of him and of the life he offered. He nodded slowly.

"What are you going to do now?" He asked.

"The only thing I can do."

"What?" He asked confused.

"When you take away my titles: Vicomte, patron, brother, fiancé, there is no one else. Nothing is left. I'm already dead. I'm already a ghost."

Philippe just stared at me in confusion. He turned, and I left him one last warning, "Anyone, Philippe and you will wish you had never come to Paris."

He ran then. I waited staring at the entrances with the pistol ready. After a few minutes, I went to Erik and moved him into a comfortable position. No one else was coming.

o.o.o (end flashback) o.o.o

Erik's POV

"And here we are now," he concluded.

"Yes," I muttered, "Here we are now."

I was happy and relieved because Raoul was here right now, but after hearing that story I was more than a little confused. The Comte and Christine had been planning to capture me. I had been close to becoming another trapped monster. Raoul saved me, but what he said had confused me.

How could I be confused though? This was Raoul. I knew him. I knew him better than I knew Christine. We were the same. He had yet to look at me though. When he did, I was lost. His eyes were shining with unshed tears, but he still smiled. It was a smile I had seen often. It was a smile that hid his pain.

"Did you know I realized something," he gestured with his hand and turned to face me completely, "after all we'd been through?"

I still did not know what was happening. This all seemed so surreal. Could it be true that Raoul was here with me? There was no Comte, no Christine. It was only him and me. I wanted to tell him to come down from the ledge, but he did not look as though he would be willing to. To close the distance between us, I climbed up to stand on the ledge along with him. It was wide enough for both of us to stand on without touching each other and without hanging over the edge.

Raoul was holding onto the wing of angel. I moved to stand in front of him.

"What did you realize?" I asked, placing one arm around his waist. He looked up at me with a sad expression.

"The only true freedom is in death."

I frowned at the sentiment. I did not know exactly how to respond. It was probably true. Instead of saying anything, I pulled him closer to me. Though I wanted to look at his face, the desire to hold him close was stronger.

I smiled when Raoul lifted his arms to wrap around my neck pulling us even closer together. This was freedom. This was my freedom. Raoul was it.

I maneuvered us so that we were closer to the statue. I did not want us to fall. In fact, I wanted us to get off this ledge and just leave this place altogether.

"Salvation is close at hand…" I began, but was cut off by Raoul.

"… if only someone would help me reach it." He continued rather wistfully.

It was an odd phenomenon to have someone know exactly what you were thinking, but I no longer doubted Raoul's capability to understand me, to understand what I was feeling and thinking.

I held him close knowing that the only place Raoul belonged was in my arms.

I did not want to disrupt the moment, but I had to, "What did you mean when you told the Comte there was nothing left?"

I felt him adjust his head so that his cheek pressed against my unmarred cheek. He tried to pull away from me, but I held him tighter. I was not going to let him go.

"About what?" He evaded.

"You said," I pushed the question, "I'm already dead. I'm already a ghost."

He tried to pull away again and this time I allowed it. His arms were still looped around my neck and I still had my arms around his waist.

"You and I," Raoul commented. "I used to think that we were so alike. We both had horrible pasts. We both had scars, memories we would like to forget, cages, and chains. I was wrong though."

I looked at him in confusion. He had not answered my question. I let it go for the moment. Admittedly, I had also thought we were similar. After everything, I still believed that we were. It was almost like being two sides of the same coin.

"There's one major difference between us." He looked at me with sad eyes, and I wished there was some way I could take that pain away from him.

"Your chains held you down."

I waited for him to continue.

"Mine," he looked away, "Mine held me up."

I shook my head fervently, "That's not true. Not you."

He looked away, and I knew he did not believe me. I decided to drop the topic. I had time to convince him.

I knew I could get used to this, the feel of his body against mine. I nuzzled his cheek and I felt him sigh.

"Do you know what I've realized?" I asked him.

He shook his head. I leaned a little forward to kiss him on his throat. My lips lingered and I could feel his heart beating erratically. He let out a shaky breath and held me tighter. I smiled. I almost did not believe this was happening.

"I thought fate had been cruel enough to send you away," I whispered in his ear. He let out a little whimper. He pulled back far enough to kiss me on my cheek. He moved across to kiss the side that was deformed. This time I pulled back far enough to see his face. I wanted to see if he was disgusted.

He smiled shyly at me. He looked like he was not sure if it had been okay to kiss me on my deformity. I had not minded it at all.

"My freedom," I looked at him as seriously as I could to convey how true this was, "is with you."

Raoul looked at me in disbelief. "Really?"

I nodded. He smiled then, a radiant smile that I had only ever imagined. A real smile that hid nothing. There was no sadness, no pain. It was a smile that managed to take my breath away.

"Then we are tied by fate because you are my freedom, too," he said resolutely as though he had just made up his mind about something. He closed his eyes momentarily before I realized that he was crying. He looked just as surprised as I was that he was crying.

I began to wipe away the tears, but he buried his face into my shoulder.

"Raoul," I asked worriedly, "What's wrong?"

He shook his head, and I had a feeling that he had not cried in a long time. I held him and my heart ached with the pain that radiated from him.

When he raised his head, I was surprised to see that he was smiling. His eyes were a little red, but he was still smiling. "I'm just glad to know that."

I could not help but just smile back at him. I wondered how he could still be that innocent.

"You'll promise to live long right?" He looked at me pleadingly.

I looked at him a little confused.

"You had looked so lost for a moment. Like you had given up before," He replied.

I had given up, but that was over. How could I even begin to think of giving up when Raoul was right here.

When I did not respond, he pressed it, "Promise you'll continue to live." He hugged me briefly before looking me in the eyes again.

I nodded. "I promise."

He smiled again, and I knew I would never be able to deny him anything.

Tentatively, we both leaned forward our lips brushing gently. It was a little awkward since neither of us knew exactly what to do. I doubted that he had ever kissed a man before. I had never kissed anyone before, but I had seen many people doing it. I did not know it would make me so nervous. Pulling away only a hairsbreadth, we leaned forward again.

I could feel my lips tingling and my heart was beating rapidly. Raoul opened his mouth and I took the invitation. I slid my tongue into his mouth and reveled in the feel when Raoul's tongue caressed my own. I was lost on the sensation. This was what it felt like to kiss someone, and Raoul ardently returned the passion I felt. I moved one hand to brush through his hair.

His hands moved from my neck to my shoulders before he pulled away. He bowed his head but I could see the pleased grin on his face. His lips were a little swollen and his cheeks were flushed. I wished to always be able to see him like this. He leaned his head to rest on my shoulder and I held him a little tighter. I only loosened my grip when I felt him push back a little more.

"I don't know who I even am anymore," Raoul started. I opened my mouth to protest, but he continued, "but I want to thank you for seeing me. I-I can honestly say I love you."

He had stolen the words I had wanted to have told him. I lifted his chin so that I could see his eyes and there were more tears. I kissed him gently and was pleased when Raoul responded immediately. I opened my mouth to tell him how I felt, but he cut me off.

"… but…"

I lifted my hand to brush the tears away.

"I died a long time ago."

I looked at him confused. Suddenly he pushed as hard as he could on my shoulders and I was falling backward. My arms flailed. My heart skipped a beat when I saw him flying backward as well.

"No!" Pure terror flooded my body.

He fell out of my sight and it felt as though I were falling off the Opera Populaire as well for all the time it was taking me to hit the rooftop. My stomach was somewhere in my throat and I suddenly had a flash of my dream before I hit the roof. When I did, all the air was forced out of my lungs and my whole body felt jarred. However, I scrambled to my feet and pulled myself on the ledge to look down.

"Raoul!" I screamed.

I punched the ledge as hard as I could. I could see his body lying on the floor by the street.

There were a few people below who had probably heard my scream, but I did not care. Someone was there checking his body. Someone had called for an ambulance.

I knew he was gone though.

I pulled away from the ledge and stared at the spot Raoul had just occupied. I walked back not quite believing what had happened. Was this clarity? Was this why I came here? To see him die. To have him in my arms before he said goodbye. My legs gave way beneath me, and I screamed until I could taste blood. I fell forward into my arms and began to cry. I cried even though I still wanted to scream. I cried because I did not have any energy left to do anything but cry. How could it hurt this much? It felt as though my heart had been torn.

I did not have anything left in me. It all fell off that roof. I thought of jumping off to follow him, but my legs would not listen. I felt my mind go numb.

How? Why?

The only clear thought I had was… Let it be a dream.

Let the lingering taste of tears, the warmth of his body, the feel of his lips… rip them from my memory, but just let Raoul be alive.

End story (epilogue in process)

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End ch23

Word count: 6,771

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

Chapter Review: Short chapter. Couldn't make it any longer though.

This was so sad and a little more fluff than I would have liked for this story (but I could not bring myself to change it). I'm sorry. I told you this story was dark. I told you it was different from what I usually did. I actually think I could have handled that last scene a little better. I keep reading it over, but I can't find something I want to change (though I know I should).

Damn, I'm so mean to Raoul. He was happy in the end though. (Not like that means anything).