Fandom: Phantom of the Opera
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.
Summary: Continuation to Imaginary Friends. Erik and Raoul are trying to make things work between them, but can they really just be friends?
Warning(s): slash
Pairing(s): ErikRaoul
Word Count: 6,903

A/N: I'm finally done with Reluctantly Willing and Garnier Hospital, so here we go with this one.
Story note: This is the chapter we learn that Erik really should not mess with Philippe and where some massive plot happens. (Finally.)

o.o.o.o

More Than Friends
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 03 - Repercussions

o.o.o.o

Philippe had been dressing, still half asleep from having stayed up late in order to finish all the letters he'd just had sent that morning. Erik, going over the drafts for the construction site, had been up for several hours already.

At the all-too-familiar cry, each dropped what they had been doing, hastily rushing out of their rooms and down the hall. Both reached Raoul's door at the same time and grabbed for the doorknob. Philippe was quicker, Erik's hand landing atop his, and though for a single moment, they shared a look of mutual challenge, Erik quickly backed away far enough so that Philippe could open the door. He managed to slip in before the elder Chagny, much to Philippe's dismay.

The bed was in disarray: pillows were strewn across and blankets were taut lines running diagonally across the bed as they tangled in Raoul's legs. As they entered, they were able to catch a glimpse of Raoul just as he rolled off the bed. His landing was loud enough that they both flinched at the sound before running to check on him.

Raoul woke with a grimace, moving slowly. He couldn't quite understand why he was in pain. Rubbing his shoulder, the one on which he'd landed, he blinked rapidly. He groaned. What happened?

There were a few seconds of silence before Erik replied, I don't know.

Confused, it took Raoul himself a second before asking, Why did you pause?

"Raoul?" Philippe started, trying to get his brother's attention. He'd feared the worse, hearing Raoul's yell. It was sad to think that his first concern was that his younger brother had somehow been kidnapped again; it had been months already since their dealings with the Comte de Montmartre. When Philippe thought of it though, it had been more than a decade and he'd reacted the same way when he'd first gotten that letter inaccurately stating that Raoul had been kidnapped. He doubted there would ever be a time when he wouldn't worry.

The blankets were still wrapped tightly around Raoul's legs and his nightshirt had ridden up. From the corner of his eye, Philippe saw Erik quickly avert his eyes at the sight. He wasn't quite sure whether he should be relieved or just exasperated. They were both adults and male. There was no reason to overreact. Though Philippe couldn't help but grin to think that the feared opera ghost was… bashful.

Erik had a fleeting thought of Raoul intentionally doing this to him to make him suffer. He certainly understood that the nights were mild, but sleeping in only a nightshirt was… he could barely think past that particular thought because that article of clothing was currently barely doing anything to cover Raoul, the blankets having pulled it up to the point that was dangerously close to revealing whether or not the young man opted to wear anything beneath said nightshirt.

The Vicomte was as good as naked – and Erik not only had to stifle a groan but also had to look away as that thought brought a mental image that was detrimental to his resolve. It was too early in the morning to have such thoughts, considering his nights were filled with dreams of a similar subject. He spared a second glance not quite unable to resist doing so, but when he noticed Philippe's grin at his expense, he forced himself to not care that the object of his obsessions was currently nearly naked. In front of him. On the floor. Looking for all the world mussed and begging to be ravished.

Erik considered leaving the room completely. But, that would mean Philippe would have won; Erik tried not to question when he'd begun to compare his relationship with Raoul to the one the brothers shared, mostly because he was certain he'd been doing so since the very beginning when Raoul was child and because he was just as certain that Philippe was currently winning.

"Erik?" Raoul finally realized that he wasn't alone in his room, "Philippe?" He looked around as though he could find some visual reason to explain his situation. "Why am I on the floor?"

Philippe only rolled his eyes and sat down on the edge of the bed feeling his legs a little shaky from relief. Erik crossed his arms and waited for Raoul to explain, eyes pointedly focused on a spot over Raoul's left shoulder.

Giving them both a once over, Raoul asked, "What's wrong with your clothes, brother?"

Erik snickered and made the mistake of glancing at Raoul again. He wished Raoul would fix himself.

Philippe shot him a glare before looking down at his clothing and sighing. His shirt was only half buttoned, partially tucked into the trousers he'd just barely remembered to fasten before running out into the hallway. He was fairly certain his jacket was on the floor in his room and he hadn't even been able to put on any shoes. He glanced at Erik and scowled. The man was perfectly dressed. It didn't look like he'd rushed to get here at all. But seeing the colour on the other man's cheeks was enough to make him grin again.

He shrugged at his brother's question, explaining, "We heard you yell."

"Yell?" Raoul repeated slowly.

Forgetting the other man's mocking, Erik glanced over at Philippe questioningly. He already knew he wasn't doing a very good job at keeping his focus on the problem at hand – Raoul half-naked was a state that Erik realized he couldn't optimally function in –, but Raoul's sleeping habits suddenly changing had obviously been a concern of Philippe's and he'd gleaned that sleeping habits were extremely indicative of Raoul's well-being. Although Philippe had tried to make light of this change last morning, Erik could easily see the consideration he'd been giving this new development.

It took only the slightest head tilt on Philippe's part and they moved forward in unison to help Raoul to his feet. Philippe was left to help untangle the blankets from Raoul's legs and adjust his clothing since Erik still refused to let his gaze venture any longer than a glance further than that spot over Raoul's shoulder. In fact, once Raoul was on his feet, Erik took several deliberate steps away, having made sure his touch did not linger any longer than necessary. He could, however, finally look at Raoul a little easier now that he was properly dressed.

"Yes," Philippe realized he'd apparently been designated as the speaker. "You yelled. Quite loudly, too," he added remembering the sound with distaste. He had to admit though that Raoul hadn't sounded alarmed. The noise had simply been so sudden and jarring that his immediate reaction had been to worry.

"Was I yelling something in particular?" Raoul asked. Yelling? He mused. That's almost worrisome.

"No. Just a yell." Philippe took hold of Raoul's arm and began looking for any bruising.

Erik looked at them with something close to envy – he was jealous of their easy touches and affection but not at the price of being Raoul's brother. He knew that their interactions had only come about through being siblings, through sharing their lives together for so long. Erik tried not to think of all the years Raoul and he could have shared; he tried and failed.

Philippe was just moving upwards to his shoulder when Raoul finally had enough. He shook his head at Philippe's tendency to be so protective of him before tugging his arm away. Philippe allowed him to do so with a small frown.

"I'm fine, brother." Raoul rotated his shoulder, barely managing to hide a slight wince.

That really showed him. Erik commented with a laugh.

Raoul added a little forcefully, "Really. I must've had a nightmare or something."

Unconvinced, Philippe asked directly, "Did you have a nightmare?"

"Not exactly," Raoul gave a tentative smile and a shrug, glad when his shoulder didn't hurt as much. "At least, I don't remember having one."

Maybe you're simply sleeping like you were meant to all along. Erik suggested. Remember, you used to kick and talk in your sleep as a child.

Raoul said doubtfully. They didn't believe that excuse the last time I told them that, and I'm even beginning to doubt its veracity.

Erik simply responded. It's not an excuse if we don't have any other idea as to why it's occurring. It truly could be something as innocuous as finally sleeping the way we're supposed to. A change in sleep habits need not be so sinister.

It was a valid point. "Maybe this is normal."

"Normal." Erik finally spoke unable to contain his disbelief. He still had a slight problem maintaining eye contact though.

Philippe also scoffed openly at the suggestion. He scanned the room for anything out of the ordinary, something to explain why his younger brother was sleeping so fitfully. Although he was glad that Raoul was no longer sleepwalking, it still worried him. He could see nothing out of the ordinary… until his gaze fell upon Erik. He sighed quietly to himself, wondering why he hadn't realized it sooner.

"I'm highly doubtful that this is normal," he added blithely, "but as long as you're not too injured…" He let the sentence hang before standing up and making a show of fussing with his shirt buttons. He grinned with feigned sheepishness at both Erik and Raoul, "I sorely need to resume dressing myself." He was halfway to the door when he paused. "I'll see you in breakfast. There's something important I would like to discuss with both of you." He left without checking to see what Erik would do now that he'd left the room.

You should do something nice for your brother, Erik commented.

Because I woke him up? Raoul asked, already knowing that wasn't what he was referring to, but unable to think of anything else.

A dramatic sigh was his only response.

Erik glared at Philippe's retreating form and at the door once he was gone. He was ready to make his own excuses in order to leave but he didn't want to seem like he was running away.

Raoul realized belatedly that he was now alone in his bedroom with Erik and for some reason, his heart began to beat a little faster. His stomach felt uneasy all of a sudden. Looking away from the older man, he started tossing pillows and blankets back onto his bed. "Sorry," he blurted out, unable to stand the silence any longer.

Another apology? Erik asked, but added. At least it's warranted this time.

Erik turned from staring at the door. "Sorry?"

"Yes," Raoul glanced at him before quickly averting his eyes in embarrassment. "For waking you." Their eyes met at Raoul's next glance up and he couldn't breathe for that long moment.

"I was awake already," Erik replied, looking away. He forced the errant thought of 'this is impossible' out of his head even though he knew it to be true. It was impossible to remain delegated as merely a friend, not when it took every ounce of self-restraint to not close the distance between them and force Raoul to accept him as something more, surely as a friend, as a confidant, but more as a lover, as his everything.

Raoul tried to stifle the sudden urge to yawn but couldn't. He stretched, arms reaching above his head as he yawned, and Erik found himself taking a step towards Raoul before realizing what he was doing.

He took several steps back just as quickly. Swallowing with some effort, Erik cleared his throat. "I'll leave you to dress." He quickly fled the room not caring if he was indeed running away.

Raoul stood there hand raised, poised to stop him from leaving. He remembered yesterday's conversation, but he simply couldn't think of anything to say. He didn't quite understand why he wanted him to stay at this particular moment in the first place.

Maybe you simply wanted to speak with him. Erik suggested.

We live together. Raoul retorted. I can speak with him any time I want.

Erik pointedly remarked, And this would be the time we note that you haven't been speaking to him very much.

He looked like he was quite busy. Raoul deflected.

Erik scoffed, loudly. Of course. He's busy at this hour of the morning, and his sudden departure has nothing to do with you.

Sighing, Raoul frowned. What are you going on about now, Erik?

Raoul could just feel his amusement. You're driving us mad. Erik managed to say.

How?

With what you were doing. Realizing that Raoul was simply not following, he said, Yawning.

Yawning? Raoul mentally railed. I can't yawn around him? It's not that rude.

I didn't say anything about being rude.

Raoul refused to reply, rather displeased with how this morning was going. Erik liked to do that too often, be vague, and Raoul simply didn't feel like deciphering his words right now.

He dressed quickly, not wanting to keep either Philippe or Erik from their work for too long, considering his rather rude awakening had taken up unnecessary time already. He rushed down the stairs and had turned to head towards the breakfast nook when Philippe called him from the sitting room. Raoul changed directions, slightly confused.

"We can't even have breakfast first," he commented as he entered the room.

Philippe, whose back was turned towards him, glanced over his shoulder before pointing to the various trays of food on the coffee table.

"Oh." He gave a small wave to Erik who sat across the coffee table facing him. Erik gave a curt nod. Something was different with his attitude in that short time they'd been apart, but Raoul couldn't quite put his finger on what that was. Passing Philippe, he reached over his shoulder, draping himself over his brother, before grabbing a fruit from his plate. He retreated when he felt his brother reaching for him.

"Stop stealing my food," Philippe mock complained. He was smiling though.

Raoul smirked at him and moved just out of his reach. "But food tastes so much better when it's someone else's."

Philippe rolled his eyes at his brother's antics.

Raoul glanced at Erik, suddenly mindful of how he was acting. He didn't want to appear so childish and he couldn't quite imagine himself stealing food from Erik's plate. He glanced downwards before abruptly changing the subject, "Why are we eating here?" He grabbed a plate.

"The others are busy preparing," Erik answered, giving Philippe a pointed look as he spoke.

Raoul glanced between him and Philippe. "For what?" He prompted, ending their impromptu staring match.

"We're having a gathering." Philippe smirked at Erik for just a moment before turning his attention back to Raoul with a smile.

That doesn't sound promising. Erik commented. But a very interesting tactic.

"A party?" Too distracted in his own thoughts, Raoul missed the look they'd shared. "Why do we need a party?" He asked, frowning. "I'd rather prefer if we didn't have one."

"My colleagues are becoming impatient to find out what had happened with the opera house, and they've waited quite long already," Philippe explained frankly, seemingly eager at the thought of a party, "This is a good opportunity for us to show that we have nothing to hide."

And…? Erik prompted.

And what? Raoul replied.

"And I do believe it's time for you to find a respectable young woman to court," Philippe finished.

Raoul spluttered, nearly choking on his food, "I-I'm fine, brother. Truly."

He wants me to find a fiancé? Raoul barely kept from saying aloud.

Well, you did have one previously already. Erik joked. It shouldn't be too difficult this time around.

Don't mock me. Raoul retorted. The thought of finding a suitable match for him truly hadn't crossed his mind. When would he have had the time to think about such a triviality when things with Erik had been so frantic?

And now that he's safe and living with you? Erik asked, suddenly serious. You have time to think about all those pretty young ladies now.

Well, I just haven't. Raoul realized he was getting defensive. I've been trying to make things right between Erik and me first.

So, we're more important. Erik stated smugly.

Without a moment's hesitation, he replied vehemently, Of course. He added before Erik could feel too smug. He's family.

"We're having this party, Raoul," Philippe said in the voice, the one that meant Raoul would never be able to dissuade him from this decision. "I expect you to be your charming self."

"I absolutely despise these parties," Raoul said more petulantly than he meant to. "More so when we're the ones hosting them." He fought the temptation to cross his arms, knowing that it would only make him look childish. "I don't need to look for a lady to court."

"It's about time we host a party and you find a nice young lady to become Vicomtess," Philippe replied, eating his breakfast calmly, as though they weren't currently arguing.

Raoul guessed they weren't really arguing since there was no chance he'd change his brother's mind. He glanced at Erik who looked just as displeased with this situation as he was. "What about Erik?" He asked suddenly. He had been so caught up in his own worries that he'd forgotten that bringing people to the estate would be so much worse for Erik than it would be for him.

Philippe grinned, looking up from his food to glance at the still masked man. "He's free to join."

Raoul looked between them again as they stared. When Erik didn't say anything, he spoke for him. "How do you expect that? They'll know who he is right away."

"Maskless." The one word seemed to linger for a long moment.

"What?" Raoul exclaimed and Erik echoed more subdued though just as incredulous.

"The ghost was known to have a mask." Philippe shrugged, as though it was obvious. "Remove the mask and there is no ghost."

"He was also known to have been deformed," Erik retorted finally, openly glaring at Philippe now. There was no point in hiding his displeasure at what Philippe was doing; he was just pleased to note that Raoul was just as displeased. The Comte was simply lucky that Raoul had come into the room when he did or else he would have tried to 'convince' Philippe to reconsider.

"But Raoul's dear friend from the navy has come to visit." Philippe shrugged, completely unconcerned with their reaction.

"A friend from where?" Raoul parroted.

"The one who was badly injured saving your life," Philippe supplied, gaze steadily on Erik.

"But… Philippe," Raoul shook his head, placing his plate on a side table, food completely forgotten, "that is a poor story that no one will believe."

"And they'll prefer to believe that he could be the opera ghost?" Philippe ignored the fact that Raoul nodded at his rhetorical question. "The rumours were never anything more than rumours. His very existence has ceased to be a concern now that the opera house has been burned."

Raoul shook his head. "That's unfair. This is his home too and…"

"And he doesn't have to leave, but hosting these gatherings are an important part of our title," Philippe said reasonably.

"B-but," Raoul floundered, knowing that Philippe was right. Not having anything else to argue, he restated. "I stand by my decision that we do not need this celebration right this moment."

"It's going to occur." Philippe stated firmly, not willing to argue about it anymore, "I've already sent out the letters."

"When?" Raoul asked incredulously.

"I was quite busy this past evening."

"So I see," Erik narrowed his eyes. He hadn't been certain of Philippe's intentions at first when he had been told about the party, but now he knew.

"There will be a masque." Philippe pointed out, pretending to be helpful with Erik's dilemma.

Perking up, Raoul suggested, "Why not have every night be a masque, then?"

"That's a bit much, don't you think?"

"It's alright, Raoul," Erik stopped another argument from starting. They'd get nowhere with it. He'd known there would be repercussions to what he'd said to Philippe. No man could resist retaliation, but this was going too far.

"End of discussion then, Raoul. I expect you to be on your best behaviour. I'm off now," Philippe said, standing. Erik's eyes followed him. "I'll be visiting the construction site. Erik," he said with a challenging grin, "would you like to accompany me?"

Not breaking their eye contact, Erik tossed his napkin on the table, standing up, the chair's front legs lifting up from the grip of his hands on the armrests. The chair thudded back to the floor. "I'd appreciate the company," he said tersely.

Philippe patted Raoul on the shoulder. "It's for your own good. You're getting to be that age." Erik purposely brushed passed him. Philippe added distractedly, "You want to start your own family, don't you?"

He didn't wait for answer, moving to follow Erik out. "We'll talk about this more later if you want to," he added before leaving.

I don't see what's wrong with the current family I have, Raoul mentally groused, but at the same time, Philippe made sense. He was getting older and the Chagny name would have to be carried on. His brother seemed to be a perpetual bachelor and Raoul, well, he'd always planned on meeting a beautiful and caring lady one day and marrying her. It was expected of him after all.

I don't see why you insist on following your peers. Erik said.

It's not about following my peers. Raoul replied. It's about making sure the Chagny name continues.

That's not entirely important either, and since when did you dream of marrying and having children? Erik asked.

Raoul glanced around the empty room before sighing. Picking up his plate of food, he decided to at least finish his breakfast. Maybe I've never actively dreamt or hoped for that, but I'd rather expected it to happen.

Erik asserted, What's expected is for you to be happy in life.

And why won't I be happy if I have a family? Raoul couldn't understand why Erik was so against the prospect of meeting someone and starting a life together with her.

You already have a family. Erik said petulantly. Unless you've already forgotten.

I meant a wife and you know that.

Your brother's happy and he doesn't have a wife.

Yes, but he's always so busy. He also keeps women company enough. Raoul skirted around saying it plainly. I don't see what's wrong with wanting a family. Maybe having children.

And what about me? Erik finally asked.

What about you?

He prompted. You will have a wife, and then what?

Wait. Raoul once again stopped eating. Are you referring to Erik or you?

Both of us.

Well, you'll probably decide to stay and make my wife question my fidelity as much as Christine used to and Erik will still live with us.

As what?

As… Raoul realized that it would be awkward for Erik if he married and had children… or maybe it wouldn't be awkward. He doubted that though. Well, he could tutor my children. Raoul suggested but still couldn't quite see Erik as simply being a tutor. An uncle perhaps? He winced at the mental image of his children running to 'Uncle Erik.' It didn't seem right.

Erik was more. So much more, but Raoul still couldn't quite define what that meant. What if Erik decided he wanted to leave though? If Erik left the Chagny estate, who knew if he would stay in Paris, but even if he did stay within the city limits, Raoul just couldn't let him leave; that wasn't even an option he would consider.

Then what is your solution? Erik simplified. A wife or us.

He won't want to leave us or… Raoul couldn't even begin to imagine trying to explain who Erik was to his wife. What if the woman he chose didn't like Erik or treated him poorly or was too afraid of him? There were so many questions it made Raoul's mind reel. He shook his head and refused to believe it could be that complicated. I'll find a way.

Erik scoffed before studiously ignoring him.

o.o.o

Erik waited until they were in the carriage and on their way to the site before hissing out, "What do you think you're doing?"

Perfectly poised, legs crossed and hands on his knee, Philippe met his eyes. "I'm doing what I think is best for my brother."

Erik reminded himself why he couldn't kill Philippe. For Raoul. Through clenched teeth, he said, "I thought you were going to give us time."

"And I thought you just wanted to bed him." Philippe shot back.

Erik wasn't about to take back what he'd said. It wasn't as though he'd meant that he'd treat Raoul as a conquest; Philippe had to know that and he wasn't about to apologize. "This will not end well."

"For whom? You or my brother?"

Erik stifled a frustrated yell, his hands clenching into fists. He'd expected something, but not this. He'd clearly underestimated Philippe, had underestimated the sting of what he'd said.

"You have a week." Philippe commented, turning his attention to the passing scenery. He thought back to another carriage ride he'd taken with Erik, what felt like years ago. He'd asked the man his intentions towards his brother then and it was true he didn't believe Erik only thought to bed his brother. He simply would not tolerate such insolence when it came to his brother's well-being and Erik being so stubborn was doing none of them favours. They'd had months to resolve their issues and now because of both their mulishness, Raoul was sleeping fitfully – Philippe was certain the two had a connection.

"A week?" Erik echoed, less confrontational than before. The urge to physically harm Philippe was still present, but a part of him actually praised the Comte for this scheme. If their positions had been reversed, he would have done something similar.

"I set the date a little more than a week from today for the true festivities." Philippe explained, "They'll begin to come a week from today and after that, well, I should hope that Raoul has come to realize his true feelings regarding your relationship by that time."

Erik nodded tensely.

o.o.o

Raoul was preoccupied the whole day mostly because Erik still refused to speak with him and he rather missed the random comments he so often made. Seeing as he was being wholly unproductive, he decided to take a walk around the estate in order to clear his mind.

The conversation they'd had about marriage had certainly been the cause of his current silence and Raoul was just as unsettled to think that he couldn't reconcile the idea of marriage and Erik. There was no way he could explain to his potential wife who Erik was without fearing that she'd go to the authorities. He didn't want to lie to her. That was not the best way to start any relationship. Honesty was the only thing that would make a relationship work, he was sure of it. But, he still worried. How would she react to Erik? Would she be like Christine? And that was different worry entirely. Would he have reason to worry if she fell in love with Erik or his voice? He could ask him not to sing in front of her.

Raoul shook his head at his own absurdity.

"Raoul," a whispered voice called out.

For a moment Raoul thought that Erik was actually speaking to him again. But when he heard the groaned, What is she doing here? he looked around.

He was at the edge of his estate, and nearing the fence where bushes covered much of the fence, he could see an area that thinned enough so that he could see through.

"Christine?" Raoul moved forward so that he was grabbing the bars. He was conflicted as to what to feel with her there. She had been a dear friend but after everything that had happened between them, he wasn't so sure what they were now. It hadn't been Christine's fault Madame Giry had kidnapped him, although she had been a part of it. They'd all thought they'd been helping him though.

All he knew was that Philippe would have a fit if he knew she was here. He mentally calculated; Philippe would be gone for a few more hours if anything. But Erik, he almost panicked, Erik always had a variable schedule. He never knew when he would arrive back home.

Christine tentatively put her hands atop his. He looked at their joined hands and couldn't help but want to hug her. She looked disheveled, her clothes not quite as fashionable as it had once been. They were older more used; yet, she looked the stronger for it. She also looked resolved to be here.

He'd always been sorry that he'd had to lie to her; lying to the Girys hadn't weighed on his conscience as much as lying to Christine had. He truly was sorry, especially now that he knew Christine and Erik had nothing between them. It was a foolish reaction but he almost wished that she could have Erik, that she could have her angel of music because he'd seen her change after discovering that the opera ghost and her angel of music were one in the same. At the time, he'd been so focused in his own situation that he hadn't been able to see anyone but Philippe and Erik, but he could remember the way she looked at him when they'd been trying to convince him Erik was dead. It hadn't been sorrow for the loss of her angel. He didn't know what it had been, but not sadness.

"What are you doing here?" He whispered fiercely, looking around to see if anyone had seen them. No one was in sight, but he was almost tempted to simply walk away so that she wouldn't stay longer.

"I needed to check on you, Raoul." She said, earnestly. She clutched at his hands, seeing he was about to flee.

"I'm well as you can see." Raoul looked around once more before giving in. This was Christine and though their parting had been rather undesirable, she was still a close friend to him. "How are you?"

"Staying with Madame Giry and Meg. They…" she seemed frustrated as though this were a discussion she'd had numerous times already, "they don't know I'm here. They don't understand."

"Well," Raoul couldn't help but point out, "you shouldn't be here. I'm sure they told you similarly."

"That's not what I meant." She pulled away from the fence and gestured jerkily. "I wanted, no needed, to check on you and ask you a question."

"A question," Raoul said skeptically.

Tell her to leave. Erik insisted.

Now you're speaking to me? Raoul asked before saying aloud. "Alright. If that's what it takes to put you at ease. You know Philippe. He doesn't make idle threats."

Christine nodded. She remembered Philippe's expression as he warned them about being near his estate. She couldn't help herself though; she'd tried to forget everything, but the opera ghost – she nearly scoffed thinking about how she'd once called him Angel– had been a large part of her life. What had happened those last few days before Philippe took Raoul back were the only things she could think of. "You wanted to go with the ghost."

Raoul shrugged. That much had been obvious.

"Why?"

Raoul didn't know how to answer that, how much he should tell her.

Don't tell her anything. Erik retorted. She shouldn't even be here. You shouldn't be talking to her. Tell her to leave.

When he didn't answer, she replied, quiet but fervent. "He's… he's a monster, Raoul. All my life, I thought he was my angel. An angel!" Raoul realized that some of that anger was actually directed at herself. Her voice was growing increasingly louder. She ignored his attempts to tell her to speak softly. "And I believed him. I would have given him anything and the good Lord knows what he would have done with me considering how easily he tried to kill us all. He's better off dead, Raoul." Raoul was surprised to see that she actually meant it. There was no doubt in her mind that her angel, Erik deserved to die.

She continued, "He's a deceiver and, and all that trust and hope I put in him. I think… I think I loved him even, wanted so much from him," she finished softly, a little dazed, as though she hadn't expected to say any of that, as though that was the first time that those particular confessions had been spoken aloud. She shook her head and her eyes cleared a bit, focusing so intensely on Raoul that he was taken aback. "You don't deserve that, Raoul." She added quickly, "No one deserves to be betrayed so deeply by someone they love."

Raoul reached through the bars and pulled her closer when he realized that she'd probably never spoken those words aloud or even allowed herself to think them so plainly. She'd loved Erik. Raoul held onto her tighter. The hug was awkward and the bars were making any real comfort impossible, but he couldn't just let her stand there looking so lost and damaged. Not when he was the reason for her pain, not when she was so changed by the experience. How could he ever make it up to her?

She pulled away slightly, still holding onto his arms. "You were that person from his past, weren't you?" She didn't wait for confirmation as she continued, "I don't know if he's really dead, Raoul. I really don't since he is a monster, and I don't think you can kill a ghost. I just want you to be careful and to know just what kind of man he is if he does come back. Never believe a word that he says."

"I," Raoul started slowly, fighting the impulse to tell Christine that she was wrong. Erik was nothing like what she'd described. He wanted to tell her that Erik hadn't planned to kill them, that it had all been part of his ruse so that they could escape.

But he did want to. Erik interjected.

How do you know that? Raoul replied.

Erik enumerated, He killed his master, your first kidnapper. He killed your other kidnappers without any hesitation. Remember the catwalks.

Raoul flinched.

And he would have killed the Comte for ordering you to be kidnapped had the fire not occurred. Moreover, I'm almost certain he would have killed the Giry women and Christine as well for having kidnapped you.

But, Raoul hesitated, it's Christine.

And you're Raoul and I'm Erik. Are we done with introductions?

Don't be difficult, Raoul groused. He'd lived years just for her. How could he…?

Erik replied, Don't be naïve. He might have survived for that long, but he only lives for you.

Raoul would have liked to scoff at such a romantic notion, but found himself blushing instead. Realizing that Christine was just looking at him expectantly, he quickly covered his distraction, "It's difficult to explain. I hadn't realized until the end who the ghost was, barely remembered the person I'd known in the past. And… I'd just thought that he'd been the reason the Comte de Montmartre had replaced me." It wasn't quite a lie. "I thought he was to blame for what had happened at the Opera Populaire and I simply couldn't let him… well, I wanted to know. No, I needed to know and confront him. He'd been different and the person now…" Raoul struggled to think up a proper reason. Borrowing words from his brother he finally concluded, "My honour was at stake."

"Your honour?"

"Yes. I needed to know," Raoul asserted, trying to be vague yet assuage her curiosity. He waited uncertainly.

After a moment, Christine sighed with a small smile. "Men and their honour. There's no honour in death."

Raoul smirked ruefully. "That's where we differ in opinion."

Looking around worriedly, Christine reached through the gates to hug him once more. "I hope you're well and that you're able to fix the problems with your fiancé."

"There's no fiancé," Raoul immediately replied, so used to the argument that he hadn't been able to stop himself.

She paused and nodded her head. "She's the unfortunate one." She looked at him for several long moments in consideration before starting out of her thoughts, realizing she'd forgotten to mention something, "There was a bigger reason for why I'd come. There's something odd with everything. Truly, with the ghost and the Comte…" She was cut off when they heard footsteps approaching. She looked around wildly before giving him a tremulous smile and squeezing his arm one last time before running.

Raoul stood there, conflicted and confused. He had caused Christine so much pain.

That's not your fault. Erik said exasperatedly. Not everything is your fault.

I took Erik away from her.

He chose to leave her, remember. Erik repeated the words he knew he'd said dozens of times already. She believed him to be an angel. What could have come of it?

I-I don't know. Raoul was still just standing by the fence when the gardener arrived.

o.o.o

Raoul decided it best to not mention Christine's visit to either Philippe or Erik. The outcome of that conversation would not turn out well; of that, he was certain. Philippe would probably visit Madame Giry's house and threaten them some more and Erik would… Raoul frowned; Erik would probably carry out that threat. He sighed.

Instead, he avoided them all afternoon, locking himself in his study as he mentally reviewed Christine's and his conversation. Christine had looked well enough though she was hardly the same girl he'd known while at the Opera Populaire. She had been trying to tell him something, but Raoul resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't know what unless he visited her. Doing so without his brother or Philippe discovering was near impossible though. He rarely left the estate because of the constant surveillance.

He actually had no idea how Madame Giry, Meg, and Christine were surviving considering the opera house had shut down and it had been several months already. Whatever funds they had would surely be depleted. He couldn't very well just give them money; Philippe would certainly notice that and more than likely, Madame Giry would simply refuse to accept it. He paused and smirked; a plan was quickly forming though.

The time he did spend with Erik and Philippe during and after dinner was spent focusing all his attention on how their days had proceeded. Conversation was rather tense and with good reason. Raoul may have gotten over the shock of learning about the party they were going to host, but it was obvious Erik was still a little angry. Philippe was only doing what he thought best and Raoul couldn't very well hold that against him. Even Erik seemed less confrontational about his displeasure, choosing instead to generally ignore Philippe and speak with Raoul.

But when he was saying his final good nights visiting Philippe in his bedroom, Raoul noticed that he was preoccupied. They usually spent several minutes simply speaking to each other before retiring for bed. Raoul never visited his brother with the intention of doing so, but they usually always had something more to talk about. Tonight it was different though; Philippe had claimed fatigue and Raoul found himself leaving the room after a rather abrupt 'good night.'

He walked down the hallway to return to his room, slowly wondering at Philippe's demeanor.

Passing Erik's doorway, he paused. They'd said good night earlier already when they all parted ways for the evening.

You say good night twice to Philippe. Erik reasoned. And you did say you would treat him more like Philippe.

Raoul did agree with him but he admitted, I don't know what to say.

Erik paused deliberately before suggesting, Good night?

Funny. Raoul even spared a sarcastic laugh aloud at that. I know that.

Just go in.

Raoul raised his hand, hesitating. After several, Simply knock, Raoul from Erik, he finally did so.

"Enter," Erik called out.

Raoul reached for the door handle and saw his hand actually shake. I can't do it.

Just turn the knob.

"Just wishing you a good night, Erik," Raoul called out instead before rushing to his own room, trying to calm his racing heart.

"Good night," Erik replied softly, having heard Raoul hurry down the hallway already.

Erik stared at the door. He knew he shouldn't have stood up, but he'd heard Raoul's footsteps outside his room and he'd rather hoped Raoul would at least peak into the room. He'd seen the blonde spend at times ten minutes saying good night to Philippe. He didn't know what he was expecting – he did sometimes imagine Raoul coming into his room to do more than say good night, but those were admittedly more fantasy than expectation –, but at least he'd gotten a second good night. It was progress.

He sighed, thinking to himself that he had a week to make more progress than he thought possible.

o.o.o.o

End chapter 03

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!
Chapter Review: Could so much have happened in one chapter!?!? Don't expect a chapter like this again. Way too much going on but the players are all falling in line. Christine's so bitter (I feel bad for her). And of course Raoul feels guilty (when does he not).

What's going to happen now? Better question: what can Erik do in a week? Work miracles?