A/N: Partly paraphrased from ALW, not mine (boo hoo)

Basically unedited and should have gone up yesterday but I'm poorly.

Chapter 27- Become

Raoul couldn't help it, could not stop himself, he bashed the door with his fist and felt his heart race. It was not long before the door creaked open and she was standing in front of him, tall, slim and completely stunning.

He smiled but she simply stood there staring, her eyes fixed on his face. He wondered for a moment whether or not she recognised him, he took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes.

'Christine,' he said, still smiling. He just couldn't stop. 'It's Raoul,'

After a moment longer she nodded her head, 'I know,' she said. 'You haven't changed much,'

He grinned, feeling like a silly school boy but by the same token, feeling deliriously happy. 'Can I come in?' he asked.

'I'm getting changed,' she said.

'You're dressed now,'

'I have to change,' she said, standing completely still.

'Aww, Lotte,' he said. 'Come on, it's been so long,'

She blinked at the name but said nothing, standing firm in the doorway. He wondered what was wrong with her, this was not the Christine he remembered.

'Lets talk,' he said. 'Let us remember,'

'We...'

'Christine…remember... let your mind wander...'

She nodded.

'Your father playing the violin while we sat in front of the open fire... the ghost stories,'

'I remember,' she said softly.

'Am I fonder or gargoyles or dolls...'

She moved her lips in the shadow of a smile. 'I remember that too,'

'Then let's go for dinner,' he grinned. 'Get changed, I'll take you out,'

'I can't Raoul,'

'Really, Christine,' he reached out, taking her hands in his. 'You were just amazing tonight, wonderful,'

'Thank you,' she said and her cheeks flushed.

'Let me tell you more,' he said. 'Lets go out, come along now, it will be enormous fun... like we used to have,'

'I don't...'

'No buts, no no's,' he grinned, pulling her into his arms. 'Just the way it used to be...'

When she pulled away her eyes were moist, she stared at him in silence, watching his face as if she was expecting something from him. He wondered what had happened to her to make her look so sad but whatever it was he was here and he was sure he could rectify it.

'I will go and tell my brother, then I will come back and collect you,' he said. Christine's mouth opened as if she were about to say something but he held his hand up. 'I've missed you so much, Christine, so very much,'

She did not respond.

'I will be back in a few minutes,' he said. 'That should give you time enough to change,'

Again, she did not say a word, she simply stood there looking at him. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek as gently as he could and then he smiled at her.

'I will see you in a little while,' he said. 'Why we ever lost contact... I don't know but I'm not going to let that happen again,'

As he ran to find Philippe he heard the door click shut behind him and he thought he heard the sound of the lock turning too.

Christine pressed her back to the door as she heard Raoul's footsteps get further away. She was tired and dizzy. When she gathered her bearings again she half stumbled towards her bed, where she sat down, holding her head in her hands. It had been so long since she had see Raoul.

The room was silent for a while and she knew from experience that Erik would not be happy about the interruption. She was, so far, unsure how he would feel about her visitor being a man.

'Insolent boy,' his voice broke the silence around her.

'That was...'

'A friend of yours,' Erik snapped.

'An old friend of mine,'

'What is he doing here?'

It struck her, at that moment, and she realised why Raoul was there. 'I would assume he and his brother are the new patrons,' she said.

'De Chagny?' Erik said. 'The De Chagny's are old friends of yours?'

'Not all of them... just Raoul,'

'Why Raoul in particular?' Erik asked, his voice was laced with what could only be described as contempt.

'We met on holiday...'

'Your sweetheart,' Erik said, cutting her off mid-sentence. 'He is the old sweetheart you told me about,'

She nodded, swallowing.

'And he misses you,'

She said nothing in response.

'How dare he waltz back into your life and bask in your glory,' He snapped. 'You don't see him for years, he does not bother to lift his pen to you yet here he is, attempting to be your suitor when you have finally made the headlines you deserve?'

She blinked at his anger but chose to stay quiet. She supposed he had a point but he did not know it all, he did not know the full story, it wasn't Raoul's fault.

'Are you listening to me, Christine?'

'Of course,' she managed to choke.

'You were in love?' he asked but no softness had entered his tone. Even the subject of her heart could not blunt the sharp edge of his anger.

'We thought we were,' she said softly. 'We were too young to understand,'

'Oh,' Erik said. 'And so now that you are older, both of you understand well enough to try again?'

'I didn't say that,' she said. 'I really had no idea that he was here,'

Silence dropped into the room and she sat there feeling uncomfortable.

'Christine,' he said finally and she looked around her.

'Yes?'

'Look at your face in the mirror,'

She frowned but stood from the bed and did as she was told. 'What now?'

'I'm inside,' he said.

She blinked. 'In the mirror?'

As she said this the glass slid across the wall and left a gap behind it, she held her breath as she waited, finally she saw an arm and then, at long last, his face. She was taken aback, shocked to see one half covered with a white mask, but she did not care. He was tall, so tall, and wide across his shoulders.

His hair was black as the night, his body clothed in a dark suit and white shirt. He looked crisp and clean, fresh. She looked up at him, his eyes were the darkest blue, the most striking colour she had ever seen.

When his hand reached out she placed hers, without hesitation, into it. His touch was cool but as his thumb covered the top of her hand she suddenly felt comfortable. She stepped over the edge of the wall and into the corridor, it was dark and cold and instinctively she stepped closer to his body, to try to feel his warmth.

When she was standing next to him he carefully closed the glass behind him and she was allowed the view of her room as he saw it. It was strange that she felt so comfortable knowing that he could see her all the time, whenever he chose. Something so frightening should put her off, she knew, and yet it barely bothered her one bit.

'When are we going?' she asked, as she heard a thumping coming from in her room. She figured that Raoul was back.

He glanced down at her and even in the blackness his eyes were piercing. 'Do you trust me?' he asked.

'Yes,' she said, without even thinking about it.

'Then stay close to me,' he said, keeping her hand firmly in his. She followed him along the corridors, he held a small lantern, barely bright enough to allow her to see him in front of her. She wondered how on earth he found his way in the dark.

They seemed to be going down, the air gradually became cooler, and as they rounded another corner her head began to spin. She stood still and he turned to look at her.

'What is it?' he asked.

'My head...' she said. 'Just give me a minute,'

And so he did. They stood there in the dark, cold corridor the smell of earth surrounding them, in silence. She did not know what to say to him and did not seem to have the inclination to speak to her. He kept looking at her though, it was hard not to feel his eyes on her skin.

A pleasant shiver crossed the width of her back.

'I'm ready,' she said quietly, and with that he picked up the pace again. She was surprised when they reached a section of mirrors lining the walls.

Erik stopped and turned to look at her. 'Stay very close, don't let go on my hand,'

She gripped his hand tighter, feeling it warm in her palm. He plunged into the mirrors and immediately she was lost in the maze, everything seemed to be a reflection and so she was forced to blindly follow his every movement. She stuck close to him, as he had insisted, and now she understood why. When they were finally out the other side he turned to face her again, as if to check that she was still there.

With a quick nod of his head they were moving again. It wasn't long before he slowed down. 'Keep your back to the wall, keep hold of me,'

And again, she did what she was told, sticking to the wall and following it's edge along until they reached another three corridors.

'Always take the left corridor,' he said to her and led her along it, pulling her away from the wall.

They descending another set of stairs and walked around another corner where she was greeted by the sight of a long underground river that disappeared into the darkness. There was a mist, she assumed from the cold, hanging above the water.

'Wait here,' he said. 'Do not move,'

She nodded and stood completely still, almost afraid to breath. He vanished around a corner and when he came back he was not on foot, instead he was on a small boat drifted on the water. When he arrived in front of her he placed on foot on the ground and then held his hand out to her again.

She took it and stepped into the boat.

'You can relax,' he said, without looking back at her. 'Lie back,'

She did as she was told, sitting at the back of the boat and looking up at him.

'When I sing... ' she said, unable to take her eyes away from him.

He glanced back at her.

'When I sing, all I think of is you,' she said, softly, feeling suddenly very small.

Erik said nothing in response, he continued to row along the water sending gentle ripples back along the edge of the boat.

'I think, sometimes, you come through in me,' she said, looking around her. The passageway for the water was narrow and enclosed. 'Do you live down here?'

He nodded, no words, no sound. A simple nod. Still, it was so good to see him.

'It's cold,' she said.

'There's a blanket in the back,'

'I mean...' she said, taking a gulp of air. 'It's cold to live down here,'

'You get used to it,'

She stared at him. 'Do you like living down here?'

'Yes,'

'Do you still get lonely?'

'Sometimes,' he said. 'But I have you,'

Her heart jumped. 'Thank you for teaching me to sing, Erik... I don't think I've actually said that before,'

A quick glance over his shoulder was all that happened in response and then all she could here was the gentle swoosh of the oar in the water. They reached an archway and Erik ducked his head as he pushed the boat carefully through it. To Christine's surprise, when they were through the arch, the whole area opened up into a huge lake.

He rowed to the edge and the metal gates closed behind them.

Christine watched as Erik stepped carefully from the boat and tied it to a wooden stump. When he turned to look at her the intensity in his eyes made her tremble. Slowly, almost timidly, he walked to the boat, and helped her onto the ground.

The room was cold but open.

To her right was a wall lining the lake, it probably came to her hip, in front of her was a kitchen type area, there was a stove of sorts, a table, some chairs. To the right of the kitchen there were two doors, and to the right of those there was a piano with books resting on top of it.

In fact, there seemed to be books everywhere.

There were no real decorations, no warmth in her new surroundings. Everything that lay before her was simple and earthly but this simply added to the appeal. There was something attractive about this mystery, the mystery that was Erik Lambourne.

She allowed her eyes to find him again, he was looking at her and when their eyes met she had to blink away. She wondered where his power over her had come from.

'Would you like a drink?' he asked.

She looked at him and she had caught the shyness in his voice, whether he had tried to hide it or not, it was there. She shook her head. Erik turned his back on her and walked to the kitchen, sitting at one of the seats by the table.

'Why now?' she asked, breaking the silence.

'What?'

'Why have you...' she thought for a moment. 'Why did you bring me here now?'

'I trust you,' he said. The statement almost knocked her sideways.

She walked to the table and took a seat opposite him, the barrier of the table stood between them, protecting whom she did not know. Now she looked at him, she really looked at him.

Let her eyes drift over him, over his broad shoulders, over his long arms resting on the table, they followed the line of his neck, the smooth curve of his defined jaw, the white of his mask. Her eyes fixed there, stopped moving, while she took at the oddity.

She wanted to ask but somehow, felt that now was not the time.

'Will you play the piano for me?' she asked.

He blinked. 'If you wish,'

'Or... sing...'

'What would you like me to sing?' he asked. She had not seen him smile yet, she wondered what that would look like on his lips.

'Anything...' she said. 'Something... something that you wrote, perhaps?'

He stood from his seat and walked to the edge of the lake, he looked over it while Christine looked over him. When he had been silent for too long she stood and followed him to the water.

'Please...' she said softly, reaching out and touching his shoulder. He flinched slightly at her touch but when he turned to face her their bodies were barely more than an inch apart.

Without warning he reached out and pulled her closer, holding her by the waist with one hand and using his other to grasp her hand. Slowly he swayed her, moving his lips close to her ear.

'Night time sharpens... heightens each sensation,'

She closed her eyes at the sound of his voice, allowed her body to move with his. He sang, gently, into her ear, a song only she could hear. She slipped her free arm around his waist, held him tighter than she should have, but felt completely comfortable with it. His smell was fresh, despite his surroundings, and she breathed him in as she stepped in, closing the gap between them until her head was resting in his shoulder.

He didn't break his movement, he squeezed her a little tighter, held her a little closer. She felt his chest moving as he was breathing, she wondered if he could feel the firm beating of her heart.

As he continued to speak her dizziness returned, a feeling not completely unwelcome as she felt weak in his arms. He paused his dancing as she pushed gently against him, to move him away.

His eyes took her face in, he had stopped singing.

The last thing she saw before she fainted was the sadness in his eyes.