Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash. Post-POTO. A bit of R/C (yeah). General discontent runs through the characters as they are forced to adjust their views of happily ever after. I guess a bit of E/C as well (but that's usually unavoidable)

Warning(s): slash (that's homosexual content for those of you who don't know)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: To everyone that's sick, get well… it's flu season isn't it?

Story note: Poor Raoul. So confused.

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Reluctantly Willing

Chapter 07 - … to compromise

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By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

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Erik woke up slowly, disoriented; after all, he couldn't remember a time in his life when he'd woken up warm and comfortable. However, even with the oddity of his situation, he didn't feel alarmed.

Something was definitely wrong.

Opening his eyes just a fraction, he kept his breathing deep to feign sleep. From his current position on his side, all he could see was the pillow beside him. He didn't have to move though; shutting his eyes, he remembered exactly where he was. The Vicomte's bed. No wonder it was comfortable; it was probably the best bed that money could buy.

Erik had rather hoped his previous encounter with the Vicomte had been a dream, one of the most unsettling and odd dreams of his life but a dream would have certainly made more sense than what he was left to believe. The Vicomte had him as a 'prisoner' – and in his head, that word didn't exactly fit in with the past events. Said Vicomte, rival, fop, overall annoyance, had saved his life, personally taken care of him, and was treating him rather hospitably. It simply didn't make sense. Maybe the Vicomte had lost his mind, but Erik still hadn't discounted the possibility that this was some sort of elaborate ploy – to what end, he wasn't sure.

Taking a mental inventory of how he felt, Erik was pleased to find that his body didn't have the same heaviness he had felt upon waking earlier. He, perhaps, wasn't completely well, but well enough not to fall to the floor in exhaustion as he had done earlier. His throat felt better as well. He had a feeling that his voice was completely back, and that gave him pause. He was in the Vicomte's estate and while he couldn't call for help, because who would help him, perhaps he could yell to get Christine's attention.

Would that even make a difference? Surely the Vicomte had told his wife that he was present in their house. After all, he was sleeping in their bed. Erik inwardly winced at that thought. Their bed. The Vicomte hadn't been being kind; he'd been making a point.

He opened his eyes fully. Beyond the pillow on a seat by the window, the Vicomte was curled up asleep in what looked to be a rather uncomfortable position. Erik had a feeling that the man hadn't left the room at all. Unless Christine had come to the room herself, the Vicomte couldn't have told her of his presence. Then again, there were those three days that he had been unconscious. The Vicomte could have surely told her about him in that time. He wanted to believe that she hadn't been told. Otherwise, she would already know and still didn't want to see him. Of course. What other excuse was there? She'd made her choice that night, returned the ring he'd given her. Why would she want to visit him? Ignoring the bitterness that accompanied that thought, Erik tried to figure out what his next step would be.

He'd let Christine go, but he couldn't deny the fact that he still wanted to see her. He needed to see her. And, if he could do nothing else while at the estate, he would find her and speak with her. Killing the Vicomte was a very close second, but he would take whatever he could. Shifting in the bed, he prepared to slip out and find her himself. The grounds were probably large, but he hoped he'd find her before anyone realized he was missing.

At the slightest of sounds though, Raoul's eyes opened and were immediately trained on Erik. There was no sign of sleep in his eyes. Erik froze in his place surprised. He wondered if the Vicomte had really been asleep. If he had been asleep, then Erik was more disturbed than surprised; that was how he awoke, from asleep to awake within moments. A lifetime of needing to be on guard had trained him to wake in such a manner. Erik was certain that the blonde hadn't been like before, that morning when they'd gone to the cemetery had been a good example of that. Something must have happened since then.

They stared at each other for a long moment before Raoul looked away as he stretched his legs out.

Raoul had barely fallen asleep before the sound of the ghost moving woke him. He'd found that his ears had attuned itself to the silence. Ever since Christine had moved in with him, he was always straining to hear the slightest sound that might indicate Christine was in the hallway outside his door finally ready to be a part of their relationship. That event had yet to occur, but still, he found that he couldn't stop himself from listening for her. It was the ghost that had made the noise though, and he hated how he'd actually hoped that it had been her. It was never her.

At first, Raoul had been a little disturbed because the ghost didn't move when he was asleep. Didn't move at all. Raoul had had to check several times to makes sure the ghost was still breathing. It was odd because Raoul had gotten used to when the ghost had simply been unconscious. At least then, the ghost would mumble and shift beneath the blankets, move a hand or leg. This time, he was completely still. It was almost as though he had to make certain not to move, afraid that someone would catch him. So the noise after the disconcerting silence had sounded loud to Raoul's ears.

The ghost had been sleeping for hours now, and in those hours, Raoul had been wracking his brain for any idea that might help him with his current situation. No matter what he thought, he came to the same conclusion: he'd backed himself into a corner. There really wasn't anything he could do. Prisoner or not, moving forward was going to be difficult.

If only he hadn't been so nice to the ghost. This was a man who deserved to die, and it didn't matter that Raoul didn't feel like being the one to kill him. The ghost was a known murderer. He should die. But every time Raoul looked at him, he thought of Christine. He thought of them, the way they used to be. And while a part of him wanted to preserve those thoughts, he had already come to the point where he wanted to destroy everything that reminded him of her. He wanted to forget her completely but had yet to act on that impulse. He would like to fool himself into believing that killing the ghost would solve all his problems, but the fear that it would only make things worse hung over his head. He didn't know how it would be possible for things to get worse, but knowing the progression of their relationship so far, Raoul was certain it would happen.

He was just tired of feeling betrayed, of being spurned, tired of it all. No matter what he tried to do, he couldn't shake that fatigue. It clung to him and his every thought of her. Now, the only thing that gave him some reprieve were thoughts of leaving Paris. He was willing to leave her behind once she gave him that final indication that there was no hope for them as a couple.

Their engaged to be engaged promise still tied them together, almost as much as this man was a constant thread between their lives. He would never feel at peace with himself, never be able to move on if this weren't settled.

So, knowing that he didn't have any other choice in the matter, Raoul decided that keeping the ghost as his 'prisoner' really couldn't last. He didn't have any of the tools to properly continue the act anyway. He knew exactly what he'd have to do and surprisingly, he was almost looking forward to telling Christine, looking forward to confronting her again about their relationship, about their living conditions. He was almost excited to flaunt the fact that he had something she wanted, finally.

"I feel better now," Erik practically snarled at the Vicomte.

It was meant as a threat, but Raoul simply sat in the chair, his legs splayed out in front of him, and replied, "That's good."

His voice even, Erik informed him, "I'll kill you." He pushed himself up into a sitting position, glad that it hadn't taken as much effort as it had last time. He leaned his head back on the headboard but hissed as he leaned on his wound. He'd almost completely forgotten about it.

Raoul shrugged. "You'll try."

"And succeed." Erik retorted but didn't move to act on his threat.

"You aren't that well yet," Raoul said with a small laugh.

"Well enough."

"Perhaps."

"You think too highly of yourself."

Raoul's lip quirked up. "No. I simply know that a fight where you aren't completely well and in my home, isn't a fight that is in your favor."

Tired of the Vicomte's smug attitude, Erik grabbed the edge of the blanket to throw it aside and show him just how he could win the fight between them when the Vicomte held his hand up.

"Remember my request." At Erik's confused expression, Raoul added, "Not while you're naked please."

Erik paused.

"It is a reasonable request. Is it not?" Raoul asked, trying to convince the ghost. At least, this way he could delay any unnecessary attention to his room. He really didn't want to have to explain what a naked opera ghost was doing trying to kill him.

Erik grudgingly nodded, remembering what the Vicomte had divulged about his care while he had been unconscious. He tried not to think about it too much. Why this man had gone through all that effort for him was something that simply complicated matters.

"Give me my clothes," Erik ordered.

"Unfortunately," Raoul tried to look apologetic, "your clothes suffered a worse fate than you."

The ghost's clothes had been salvageable but between the stench, blood, and body fluids, it hadn't been a difficult decision to burn them.

"You expect me to remain in this bed?" Erik glared.

Raoul laughed harshly, "As though you'd stay in the bed. If a bed were enough to keep you still, I doubt we'd have so many problems."

"Well…"

"Well," Raoul knew it was now or never. "Seeing as you are doing better, and you are better correct?"

Erik nodded, trying to figure out who this man was. This wasn't the patron who'd spent so many months at the opera house. This wasn't even the suitor that Christine had spent so much time with. He didn't know what to expect at all.

Raoul was loathe to lie, so he decided several embellishments and omissions would be necessary. "Good. Now…" he paused dramatically, "I grow weary of your face." It was blunt, callous, and a hundred other words that Raoul knew warranted a reaction from the ghost. When the man actually flinched, Raoul had to immediately stifle the twinge of regret he felt for the saying it. However, he was supposed to be ruthless enough to keep the ghost captive, so a few harsh words had seemed appropriate.

When the ghost surged forward ready to strike him, Raoul was quickly on his feet, closing the distance between them. Raoul managed to push him back against the headboard before Erik had even managed to strike out at him. Erik winced as his head wound was aggravated, but more sore was his pride. Was he still so weak that the Vicomte had managed to best him so easily?

Raoul pulled away just as quickly as he had pushed the ghost down. He waved his hand dismissively, hoping that the ghost couldn't see the shaking of his hands. He kept a calm façade even as his heart raced. The ghost couldn't be feeling that well, subduing him had been too easy. "Oh, don't be so sensitive. It's an expression." Rolling his eyes, Raoul added, "Not everything is about your face."

Erik stared at the Vicomte in disbelief. Really. Who was this man?

Erik had forgotten that he hadn't been wearing a mask. The Vicomte had been acting so calm without it on that he'd actually forgotten that his face was hideous. That was the first time that had ever happened and he blamed it on the head injury.

"As I was stating," Raoul finally looked away from the ghost. The man was still in his peripheral vision; he didn't doubt that the second he turned his back to the ghost, they'd end up in another scuffle. "I grow weary with you as my prisoner," he stated pointedly, glancing at the ghost.

Erik stayed where he was, not because he couldn't fight the blonde, just because he had a feeling that he wanted to hear what the Vicomte had to say.

"Seeing as you wish for freedom and I wish for…" Raoul admitted honestly, "a new start, I see this as an opportunity that will benefit us both." He stated this all in a business-like sense. He made sure that none of his personal feelings coloured his statements. He could only feign nonchalance for very long though, a lot of things were going to change if he followed with this plan, changes that might not be for the better. He reminded himself that this was the only way.

"You may not know this, but Christine does not know you are present." Raoul turned his attention to the ghost fully, watching his reaction. It wasn't as large as he expected. The ghost's eyes merely widened a fraction and he sat up straighter. His eyes darted towards the door but he remained where he sat.

It was enough of a reaction though. The ghost still loved her. Maybe she still loved him. Raoul would never know unless he told her. There were two main ways that such a confrontation would end. She would say she loved Raoul and then he was certain the ghost and he would fight to the death. If Christine said she loved the ghost, then Raoul would free himself from both of them; he could only pursue Christine for so long. Either would be difficult because he knew that many things would still need to be fixed and discussed, but at least it wouldn't be this, this limbo he'd been living in.

There was a third possibility that Christine wouldn't be able to pick between them, and then they'd have to fight each other again. Either way, two out of three possibilities ended in a fight and Raoul refused to fight an injured man.

"I'd like to make a compromise."

"I'm listening," Erik finally replied. He was surprised to hear that the Vicomte hadn't told her yet, but he wasn't about to question it right now. Maybe Christine would still want to see him.

"I'll tell her you're here." Raoul quickly added, "but that doesn't mean she'll want to see you."

Raoul doubted that; of course she would want to see him at least one last time. Their last parting had been under quite duress. This time she would have time to think about what to say.

"What do you want in return?" Erik knew compromises never went in his favor.

Raoul shrugged, sitting back down in the seat he had just vacated. "You don't leave this room or make yourself known until you're fully recuperated."

"What?" He shook his head, not quite understanding how this was a compromise.

"Two days." Raoul looked out of the window, staring into the darkness. If the ghost wanted to attack him, then it would happen. "I'm giving you two days to get better."

Erik stared at him as though he were insane. Two days for recuperating? That was all the Vicomte wanted in return for telling Christine that he was there, for giving him an opportunity to see her again. "Two days for my silence," he agreed. If the Vicomte were to try anything, he could always break his promise when he saw fit to. Until then, he could bide his time.

Raoul gave no indication that he had heard. He knew the ghost would agree. Now, he had two days to find Christine and find the courage to tell her that the ghost was present. Two days to tell her to actually make her choice.

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End Chapter 07

Word count: 2,746

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

Chapter review: prisoner!Erik didn't last very long, but come on, we need a more evil!Raoul to pull that off properly.