A/N I'm alive, I have returned form the dead. No excuses for not updating, its been soooo long I don't even expect you to read it, but if your reading this then I suppose you are………

This one gets a little angsty and a little violent, so be warned.

disclaimer, we all know I don't own POTO.

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Ab Quirito et Ab Deploro

(To Scream and to Cry)

It was unnaturally cold for May, the wind bit through Erik's long cape as he swept through the deserted alleys. The cold never reached him though; he was so overwhelmed by the ice in his heart. He knew what he had to do. He walked on steadily though his insides were like jelly. His mind was held back for fear of it being overcome with doubts again. He knew where he was going but had no idea of the way, but none of that mattered know. You will probably freeze before you get there, his mind told him. His thoughts slipping from his grasp scattered and rampaged though his mind. Rambling on and on like a brook that cannot decide its direction.

He was going to the De Changy Manor. He had never been before, he had wanted to many times, just to see her, one more time. He had never gotten up the strength though, to leave her again, as he knew he must. He also knew that he most likely never get to see the Vicount, that he would be killed on the spot. All the better, save him from a life without her.

He had no emotion left. He would simply ask the Vicount for his account of her last hours. That's was all he wanted, and maybe a few trinkets of hers to keep. He would not raise all hell; he had lost that power now. For the first time in many years, he felt helpless. He had sworn to never feel this way again, not when he had the power to eliminate the opposing side.

He knew he was drawing closer with ever step he took; he could begin to feel her. But what he felt was extremely disturbing. He told himself that he felt her pain because he was in pain. He scolded himself that he could taste her tears only because he was crying. He yelled at himself to drown out the sound of her screams.

Why was his angel in pain? His steps quickened, but he did not notice. She was supposed to be happy. He dropped his pack. Why wasn't she happy, why was her spirit still here, why did she feel alive? He began to run, blind to anything else, he ran until he collapsed from exhaustion.

Kneeling in the cold mud by the side of the road, he raised his eyes to the sky. The sun was beginning to rise, sprinkling the starry heavens with pink and gold hues as the world yawned and stretched. He had walked all night. Moreover, the distance he could see ivy-covered gates and a great brick monster caged in behind it. De Changy Manor. He knew what it was without knowing. She was there; he knew it at that exact moment. Her presence was overwhelming, pulling him toward that spot. It was the reason he felt nothing at her grave. It was the reason he could not accept her death. He knew now looking at the house, she was alive, and she needed him.

Raoul awoke to a red sun. The sunlight streamed in unforgiving into the room. He squinted, shaded his eyes with his hand, and rose to close the thick drapes. Once again, in the dim light he blinked a few times and shook his to shake the sleep from him. He had not slept well in too long. He was unused to being well rested.

He heard a soft pounding on the other side of the wall. He thought for a moment on what it could be until the last months events gushed back to him. He then opened the curtains, finally ready to face the new day.

He did not want to believe what he saw. He had had a feeling it would happen. He saw a small black figure swathed in a large cloak. He had hoped for a long time that he was dead, but he had a feeling that Christine would not have this problem if he were.

He padded lightly down the stairs to avoid waking the servants. He had to do this alone. He opened the door to the cold wind and stepped out to face his greatest enemy.

When they two say each other, they both stiffened. One look from Raoul's painful eyes confirmed all his worst suspicions. Erik felt rage like fire spread through his body warming him from the chill he had been exposed to for all hours of the night.

Raoul held up his hand to stop the onslaught.

"Just let me explain first, please."

This simple plea devoid of life stopped Erik in his tracks, he had been expecting defensiveness of aggressive moves, but not this, weary defeat. He was utterly dumbfounded at this new side of the fop. Maybe that was why he let him have his chance, even after all these years of hating him, when it came to Christine everything changed.

"Speak."

"I had no choice," Wrong way to start off, Erik bristled immediately. "She is not fit to live in society, I would be disowned if the public knew of her and what she's been through, don't think for a moment that I did not and still do love her, but you have not seen what she is capable of in her despair."

"Why was she despairing at all, oyu were supposed to keep her happy and loved, that is the only reason you were allowed to keep her in the first place, I trusted that you loved her if nothing else."

"I could not give her what she wanted; my love for her did not satisfy her."

"What did she want that you, a Vicount, could not provide?" he sneered.

"You." What, Erik could not believe what he had just heard. The boy must being toying with his vulnerability. She could never love him; she had shown that by choosing Raoul. "In fact, you are the one that made her like this, with all that 'singing songs in my head' garbage. You drove her to the brink! This is your fault! You destroyed my wife, you gave her to me but she was never mine, Never!" With that the Vicomte snapped, launching himself at the phantom.

Erik easily moved aside and let the man fall in the mud. Raoul stayed there, kneeling in the mud as Erik had done only a few moments before. Stoically, he said.

"Take me to her."

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A/N I know its short, and I kinda left you hanging but if you made it this far I thank you so much! Yeah, reviews are my inspiration!