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: Could writing get any more hectic? There's so many things going on! D8 I almost mixed up the storylines.

Story Note: This fic was supposed to end at a chapter 28, but looking over my notes, I think I might finish it a chapter earlier, ie the next chapter. I'm not sure. Just a heads up.

o.o.o.o

Reluctantly Willing

Chapter 26 - … to stop

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

The grains of sand bit into Raoul's throat as he choked. He tried to pry Erik's hand off but could feel his own weakness; his arms felt so heavy, his fingers barely holding on. Raoul was certain Erik couldn't be that much stronger than he was. Trying to free himself only made it worse though because Erik simply held on tighter. Yet, as Raoul struggled to focus on him, he could tell the anger he saw was different from when Erik had left with Christine. Erik was furious with him, that was undeniable, but it was tempered with annoyance and something that might have been akin to relief.

As darkness started to flicker at the edge of his vision, Raoul stopped trying to pull Erik's hand off; instead, he just held on tightly, more to keep himself from choking worse as he felt his body slumping. Only then did Erik loosen his hold.

Raoul slumped down to sit on his knees, gasping. He would've fallen to the ground completely if Erik's hand hadn't strayed to hold the back of his neck. It forced his head to tilt at an uncomfortable angle, one where he couldn't possibly hide his expressions from Erik. As much as he wanted to move, Raoul couldn't get his limbs to listen to him.

"Did you hear me?" Erik asked, stifling the urge to shake him. Raoul looked like he could barely focus, a state Erik knew he'd only exacerbated in his anger.

Tears were gathering at the corner of Raoul's eyes, tears that he blamed on almost dying in the ocean and nearly choking to death by Erik's hand and not on the fact that Erik was here again, despite all the odds. A type of desperation welled up in him. He didn't know to what end though. Desperate for Erik or to be as far as possible from him?

He didn't even know what Erik was mad about now; he hadn't done anything wrong. He might have left, but if anything, Erik should be happy that he didn't have to waste his time checking up on him. Wasn't his departure answer enough? He didn't want to see either of them any longer. He hadn't gone after them. He hadn't somehow contacted Christine, had barely thought of her. He didn't even know where she was or where they'd gone. He'd simply stopped. He'd long since stopped wanting her and had been on his way to stop wanting him.

Erik lowered himself on one knee so that he could look Raoul in the eye, suddenly mindful of the strain he was putting on Raoul's neck. He spoke with quiet intensity, "Don't ever run from me."

Raoul let out a frustrated breath. Another threat. He knocked away Erik's hand, and sure enough, he fell backwards onto his elbows without the support. Cursing in his head, Raoul knew he didn't have the energy to deal with Erik at the moment. He just wanted to lie down and forget about everything. Untucking his legs from beneath him, Raoul pushed himself to a sitting position with shaky arms. He couldn't even muster up the energy to be properly angry.

"Why did you have to come back?" The question was rhetorical. Raoul wasn't interested in what excuses Erik might come up with this time around. He barely looked at him when he spoke even though Erik was still kneeling before him. He just wanted to know how it was possible that they'd end up at the same beach, that Erik had somehow made it from the Chagny estate in Paris to this cottage.

The broken way that he asked the question made Erik refrain from reaching out even when his hands itched to do so. He looked at Raoul, really looked at him. There were the scrapes and scratches from the tree yesterday that were still a little red. They were nearly hidden beneath the sand that clung to almost every inch of Raoul's body. His hair was tangled and sandy. But it was Raoul's expression that caught his attention. He'd seen it once before, after Christine had left them both. Erik would've laughed if it weren't so frustrating. It was almost ironic. The desperation and anguish that had been present because of Christine's absence was now there because of his very presence.

What had he been thinking when he'd come back? That Raoul would welcome him with open arms, that he would have been waiting for him, that he wouldn't have been able to move on? Foolish thoughts for but another fool in their story.

It was obvious that Raoul had moved on. There was that woman. There was his reaction to Erik's mere presence.

Erik almost regretted leaving Christine behind before he rebelled against the very thought. He knew where he was supposed to be, and that was with Raoul. He'd make Raoul want him back, do whatever it took. He should've expected it to be difficult; Raoul always made things difficult for him. Why would now be any different?

Grabbing his arm, Erik pulled it over his shoulder before standing up. Raoul didn't struggle this time. He was barely able to stand on his own.

"What were you trying to do out there? Kill yourself again?" Erik chastised. He didn't know why the words came out. He had a feeling Raoul wouldn't reply, but he needed to calm him down some way and it was either yelling at Raoul or choking him again. And since he rather preferred Raoul to be alive and conscious, he had to settle for the first option.

As expected, Raoul didn't respond. He simply dug his heels into the sand. It did little to slow Erik down though; he was walking with a purpose.

Raoul didn't appreciate the way he seemed to fit just so against Erik's side or the way Erik suddenly didn't mind such close proximity to him. It was no small secret Erik liked his personal space and that he rarely touched anyone unless it was to injure or kill them – the only time Raoul could remember him willingly doing so was when Erik caught him whenever he fell out of the tree, and that had only been part of the plan to draw Raoul into a sense of security. He wasn't sure what Erik was trying to accomplish this time around.

"If you don't stop that," Erik paused, "I'll be forced to carry you in my arms. Like a bride." He shrugged, "Either way is fine with me."

Raoul barely looked up at him and all Erik could hear for long moments was Raoul's harsh breathing. He started walking again and was pleased when Raoul attempted to walk as well.

After a distance when the pounding of both his heart and the ocean waves had diminished, Raoul saw two of his horses and a servant holding their reins. He narrowed his eyes. It was his driver, the one he was certain he'd left in Paris.

The driver's eyes widened. He said incredulously, "You found him?" Remembering himself, he bowed, "Afternoon, Vicomte."

Raoul could only stare. He couldn't understand what was happening.

Erik muttered something to the man that Raoul missed in his musing. The driver removed the saddle on one of the horses before mounting his own, saddle in hand. He waited a second before Erik wordlessly motioned that he go ahead; the driver gave him a pointed glare, sparing Raoul a concerned glance before leaving them. The driver knew by now to turn a blind eye to such things and as much as he wanted to make certain himself that the Vicomte would be alright, he calmed himself with the thought that this was for the best. It wasn't right for the Vicomte to continue to act as he'd done; it wasn't healthy.

After the driver was far enough, Erik manhandled Raoul onto the remaining horse before mounting behind him. He left at a much more sedate pace.

Raoul protested loudly at such proximity between them. His actual struggle was weak only due to his fatigue, but that didn't mean he wasn't able to firmly elbow him several times before Erik was forced to release the reins in order to hold Raoul's arms down against his body. Raoul almost promised that he wouldn't run away if he was allowed to ride alone, but he wasn't a liar. Given the opportunity, no matter how weak he felt, he would have tried to ride away.

Erik was well aware of that fact. So, it was ultimately intelligent and wholly necessary on his part that he sat behind Raoul, one arm securely around the blonde's waist and arms while the other hand held the reins. And, if he managed to derive some sort of pleasure from the way Raoul's currently shirtless body was pressed tightly against him or how Raoul's rear was rocked against groin every time the horse took a step, then it was simply an additional benefit from their current circumstance.

Their circumstance was quickly forcing him to come to the realization that his interest in returning Raoul to the Chagny estate in Paris so that they could resume their lives together delved deeper than the expected comfort and sense of companionship Erik received in his presence. He was finding Raoul more agreeable than he'd ever thought possible – Raoul was a fop; Erik actually hated to admit that Raoul was quite far from a fop though, living with him proved that easily. Erik had simply never really bothered to think of Raoul sexually; it had never crossed his mind when they'd lived together. Raoul was simply Raoul, talkative, playful, annoying, and overall tolerable. After leaving Christine, the idea had crossed his mind, and at the moment, it was the only thing on his mind besides relief.

But Erik was no stranger to lust. He was well acquainted with that particular emotion, and he knew that what he wanted with Raoul was more. He wanted that trust he hadn't realized Raoul had placed in him until it was too late. He wanted their lives back, everything that Christine had destroyed with her return. Erik scoffed; everything that he would have eventually destroyed by his own hands even if she hadn't. He knew that.

Raoul was relaxing by increments, not having the energy to remain tense for such an extended period of time. But when Raoul finally leaned against him, his head resting against his shoulder fully exhausted and pliant, Erik considered it a victory and slowed their progress to the cottage considerably. He adjusted his arm, sliding it beneath Raoul's arms so that he was no longer restraining Raoul so much as holding him. He waited a moment but Raoul didn't protest, and Erik knew he was grinning.

He missed this even though they'd never been remotely this close to each other before. His body was reacquainting itself with Raoul's: the steady breathing, the beat of his heart, and the warmth that he could feel. Every step that the horse took was like a piece of what he'd been missing with Christine falling into place.

So by the time they reached the cottage, Erik was certain he'd never willingly let Raoul go again.

"We're here," he whispered in Raoul's ear as they stopped.

Raoul jerked away from him, looking around wildly. He was embarrassed to admit that he'd been dozing lightly. He didn't want to think about how easy it had been to relax knowing that Erik was there holding him. He'd almost convinced himself that he was dreaming, that he and Erik had come to visit the cottage on a vacation together.

Erik dismounted the horse first and Raoul's back felt a little chill without his presence. He scowled at his own thoughts. When Erik held his hands out to help him down, Raoul looked at him in disbelief.

"You'll fall otherwise," Erik tried to be reasonable. He also wanted to see how much Raoul would be willing to accept him back.

Raoul swung his leg over and slid down to the floor. Even as cautious as he was, his legs buckled. He grabbed onto the horse for support even as Erik moved to steady him. Raoul elbowed his hands away. It felt like there were butterflies in his stomach whenever Erik touched him. It was annoying and no matter how much he told his body to stop reacting to Erik's presence, it wouldn't listen.

He walked by himself, albeit unsteadily, into the cottage where the few servants that were present were bustling around trying to get it prepared for his sudden visit. They all greeted him and Raoul made a point to greet them back. His stomach growled loudly and he heard Erik snicker at the sound. Erik walked beside him, close enough that they brushed against each other. His hand was on Raoul's lower back urging him forward, leading him as though he knew where the kitchen was, and when they stepped into said room, Raoul conceded that apparently he did know.

Erik offered him some grapes. Raoul looked at the fruit then at Erik before turning away. He wasn't that hungry. Stopping a servant, he requested, "Please draw a bath for me. No need to warm it."

The young girl curtseyed and rushed to do as he'd asked.

"So you're going to ignore me?" Erik finally asked.

Raoul walked by him, heading towards his room so that he could find a change of clothes. He was tracking sand everywhere in the cottage but couldn't bring himself to care in his current state. He simply focused on not falling to the floor. Erik was waiting just for such an event to happen so that he would be forced to ask for his help.

Raoul was attempting to climb the stairs when the driver returned from tending to the horses. He was at Raoul's side immediately.

"Here, Vicomte. Let me help please."

Raoul smiled at him. If anything, he guessed that this man was also a victim of Erik's machinations. "Thank you," he sighed, leaning against the man.

Erik nearly tore them apart with every intent to strangle the driver no matter how integral the man had been in finding Raoul. Only the chance that Raoul might fall down the stairs stopped him.

When they reached the top of the stairs, the driver finally let go of him. "Do you need more assistance?" He asked.

Raoul smiled putting his hand on the driver's bicep in thanks, and Erik seriously considered killing the man. "I believe I can walk unassisted. Thank you though."

When Raoul turned to walk down the hall, Erik grabbed the driver's arm, squeezing it painfully as though he could erase Raoul's touch from him. The driver's mouth hung open in a silent yell, knowing not to alarm the Vicomte.

"What?" He whispered, trying to free his arm.

Erik glared at him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Helping him up the stairs. What does it look like?"

Erik released his arm after a moment's hesitation.

The driver cradled it against himself with a wince. "I didn't want him to fall, did you?"

"Of course not," Erik shot back. He looked down the hallway and saw that Raoul already made it to his room. He said through clenched teeth, "Stop being so helpful."

The driver followed his gaze down the hall. "It would be best if you watch yourself."

Erik quirked an eyebrow at him. "You should listen to your own advice."

Not taking the hint, the driver followed Erik as he walked to Raoul's room. Raoul was leaning against his dresser, clothes in hand when they entered. He didn't turn around.

"Raoul." "Vicomte." They said at the same time.

Raoul looked up, as though in a daze. He let out a small laugh, "I must've fallen asleep on my feet." Seeing their concerned faces, he added, "I'm fine, simply tired." Other than lifting his head, he didn't move from his spot against his dresser. It would have been a waste of energy to do so. "I've been meaning to ask. How did you find me?"

"How did we find you?" Erik repeated disdainfully. "I know you, Raoul. Know you better than I know myself and once you realize that, life will be easier for us both."

The driver rolled his eyes at the response and Raoul gave no indication that he had heard.

If the situation had been different, Raoul would have thought those words were something of a confession of love. Perhaps not love, but something unbearably close. After everything that had happened though, Raoul knew them to simply be more lies. Erik might even be partially true about knowing him but that meant nothing about love; it was simply one more taunt, one more humiliation, a taint on the time they'd spent together.

Raoul simply couldn't let himself hope, hoping hurt too much. And when it came down to it, Erik didn't know him, not like he thought he did. If he truly did, he would never have left.

Erik ignored the fact that the driver rolled his eyes at the statement. He might have left out the part where they'd tried every village, city, and known person around Paris and farther before Erik had the idea to head towards this cottage, and even then, it had only been partly because of a faint memory of Raoul talking about the place and mostly because of the book he now damned in his head.

As much as he tried, he couldn't refrain from making the parallels, parallels that he, at turns, enjoyed and hated. L'Homme Qui Rit had ended in the ocean, ended tragically in the ocean. So, even though it was the driver that had led them to the actual cottage, he'd already been inextricably drawn there and had almost been certain that Raoul would be as well.

They'd waited half a day for Raoul to arrive, long enough that Erik had begun to worry that Raoul was simply getting farther and farther away from him as he did nothing but pace through the household. They'd actually left the cottage already and were falling into their rhythm when he saw Raoul's horse wandering.

He saw it and immediately feared the worse, his heart arresting in his chest. Changing directions quickly, his eyes desperately swept across the wide expanse of ocean, holding his breath against hope. He saw the clothes that were scattered across the beach. Straining forward, he searched for familiar blonde hair or any sign of movement. He'd been on his way to dive into the ocean when he saw Raoul inert on the beach, barely out of the water. It wasn't until he was closer that he realized Raoul was still alive, and only after he'd released a breath of relief did he wonder whether he should throttle him or throw him back into the ocean.

The only thing that he could think was that he'd almost missed him. His impatience had almost made him miss Raoul.

"Well," Raoul prompted to the driver.

The driver looked at him in confusion before glancing towards Erik, who nodded tersely. "Uh. How we found you?"

"Yes."

"We were all worried at your state when you left us," he explained haltingly, suddenly not sure he wanted to be in the room at the moment. "It was suggested," he glanced at Erik, "that we go search for you and check the cottage." He grinned, "We remember how you'd loved it as a child. Where did you go?"

Raoul closed his eyes, feeling weighed down. Could it have been that easy? Erik had decided that Raoul would go to the cottage and sure enough he had. That was it? Raoul had travelled non-stop through France's countryside, his mind in utter turmoil; he'd been half out of his mind. It had taken him days before even deciding to go to the ocean. He felt the hysterical urge to cry, knowing that he didn't even have the energy to do that.

"I was wandering for a while," Raoul said quietly. "I hadn't decided on a destination until just this morning."

The driver started, "Erik said…"

Raoul cut him off with an abrupt and cold statement. "Erik is dead to me."

Erik's eyes actually widened at that. He'd never heard Raoul sound quite like that before. At least it would explain why Raoul had decided to ignore him, but he wasn't quite sure how to react to such a response. Deciding that Raoul would eventually abandon his pointless ruse given time, he didn't respond. He'd make it impossible for Raoul to ignore him.

"I seem very much alive," Erik commented.

"Is that why…?" The driver thought aloud to himself. Raoul had sometimes referred to mourning, but it had been so vague at the time they'd thought he meant it figuratively.

Raoul pointedly explained, "If you must know, the reason it was so easy for me to move on," he didn't consider it lying if it was mostly the truth; it hadn't been easy so much as it had been easier, "was simply by imagining the opera ghost had simply died." He even managed a smile that didn't look as pained as it felt. "Simple as that."

Erik wasn't quite sure if he should be angry or surprised that Raoul had it in him to be so cold. It was near disturbing, but he didn't believe a single word of it. He refused to.

"Vicomte," a knock on the door drew all their attentions, "Your bath is ready."

"Do you need…" the driver trailed off when he saw the look Erik was giving him. "I will take my leave now." He bowed again before leaving.

Erik waited to see what Raoul would do next. Still ignoring him, Raoul walked to the bathroom as steadily as he could. It was easy to see that it took a concerted effort to walk across the room but Erik stayed back. If Raoul wanted to continue this ruse, then Erik would gladly follow just to see how committed he was.

Entering the bathroom, Raoul saw the tub filled with water. He didn't hesitate for a second before he began to undress. He knew that Erik wasn't going to leave him alone. He doubted he'd have privacy for a while or at least until the older man fell asleep. Raoul was already planning it in his head. As much as Raoul feared he was wrong, Erik couldn't actually know before he did where he was going to go. He'd break free eventually. Until then, all he had to do was ignore him. Raoul noted his presence from the corner of his eye. Or at least pretend to.

He unbuttoned his trousers and tugged them and his underwear off, forcing himself to not care that Erik was in the same room. Erik just stared, thinking to himself that there might be some benefit to being considered dead.

Raoul stepped into the tub and lowered himself into the water with a shiver. The water was freezing, which Raoul was absently thankful for as he felt Erik's eyes still trained on him. He just wanted to get all the sand off him, and as the sand floated down to the bottom of the tub, he began to feel a little better. Keeping his eyes resolutely away from the man who had taken a seat at the foot of the tub and was currently staring at him unabashedly, Raoul dunked his head underwater. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to get as much sand out of it as possible.

Erik smirked, a little disappointed that the tub was small enough that Raoul had to bend his knees to fit completely since it covered some parts unless Erik craned his neck a bit, which he did. That position left little to the imagination though. Raoul was extremely committed to this course of action.

When Raoul surfaced, Erik commented, "So you're starving yourself." He purposely looked Raoul over once again, though he did pay special attention to the fact that he could now see how skinny Raoul had gotten. He could count ribs now.

Raoul didn't respond, simply closed his eyes, once again thankful for the chill of the water. He rested his head against the edge. Erik would have to sleep and then he could make his escape then; maybe he could even lock him in the room. But that wouldn't work because there were windows and Erik was good at climbing out of those. Maybe he could somehow tie him up, but Erik would surely wake up and struggle. His only hope was really to try and outrun him. If he could somehow take all the horses with him then that would give him enough time to get away. The cottage was quite secluded; there would be no way for Erik to get a horse.

After some time, he opened his eyes and saw Erik closing the door. Raoul frowned; he hadn't heard it open in the first place. Erik sat at the foot of the tub again holding a tray of food. Raoul's stomach growled just at the sight.

Smirking, Erik asked, "Are you still going to ignore me now?"

Raoul had to admit that now that he was clean and sufficiently calm that hunger was the last need to fulfill. Erik held up a single grape, taunting him with it. It slipped out of his grasp, falling near his stomach with a plop. Before Raoul could react, Erik reached into the tub, being sure to touch as much of Raoul as possible before the blonde jerked, grabbing his arm before he could do any more damage. By the end of that small movement, water had gotten everywhere. Raoul's knees were drawn up to his chest as he leaned forward cradling Erik's arm so as to keep it immobile. Erik had barely managed to keep his hold on the tray of food even though he was now drenched.

"Damn it, Erik!" Raoul lifted Erik's arm out of the water, holding tightly even while he pushed it as far away from his body as possible.

Erik looked unrepentant, opening his hand to reveal the wayward grape. Raoul let him go and pushed his hair back.

"Not so dead, am I?"

Raoul paused to consider what he should do. "I'm having one conversation with you." He gave Erik a pointed look before dunking himself under the water again. He came up, smoothing his hair back out of his face. He stood up, making a point of being so forward. He was faintly reminded of the time Erik had tried to gain a reaction from him in the same manner. Stepping out of the tub, he reached for a towel to dry himself off before tugging on some loose pants. "One conversation," he said, finally looking back at Erik. "That's it, though there's nothing you can say that I want to hear or that I'll even believe from you."

He returned to his bedroom to grab a brush.

"You're such a fop," Erik commented.

"Are you going to waste this conversation?" Raoul asked, struggling to get some of the tangles out. Between almost drowning and Erik's not so gentle greeting, Raoul wouldn't be surprised if he had to cut his hair just to make it manageable. Brushing his hair also gave him a convenient way to distract himself from the rather inevitable conversation they were going to have.

Erik took a seat on the edge of the bed, just watching him. He'd watched Raoul run through the routine of trying to tame his hair. He'd said those words before, meaning it then as much as he meant it now. He'd never realized how something as insignificant as this could be something he desired.

Even though he was certain that he could make Raoul speak to him again, this first conversation was something he knew to be important. It was in this conversation that he could make Raoul realize that he didn't have a reason to run away. Erik could explain how he'd been wrong, that maybe he had started out at the Chagny estate to help his and Christine's future but it hadn't been like that in the end. He wasn't even sure if that had ever really been the reason he'd stayed.

Instead, the first thing out of his mouth was, "You brought my cloak."

Raoul, who'd been making a concerted effort to remain completely emotionless, looked at him with open confusion. He answered slowly, "It was the nearest thing at hand."

Deciding it was too late to take back that statement, he pointed out, "Your clothes were just in the next room."

"I wanted something I didn't care if it got dirty to sleep on," Raoul retorted. He tossed the brush down on the dresser so that he could give his full attention to Erik, so that he could glare properly.

"You wanted something to remember me," Erik challenged.

Raoul couldn't believe it. "I don't understand how you can be so arrogant. What happened to that tortured soul who sang of everyone hating him? And no one loving him," he said mockingly. "Where do you even get this confidence?"

Erik stared at him steadily. "Because," and Erik knew he was taking a big risk here. "I know you love me." He didn't know if Raoul loved him. He didn't know if whatever Raoul might have felt for him was now completely ruined by having left, but the book had led him to Raoul and he couldn't accept that he wouldn't have him in the end, whatever that end might be.

Mouth slightly ajar, Raoul held his gaze. He wondered how Erik had found out. That explained his sudden appearance though. Erik had somehow found out that Raoul had fallen in love with him and was now back to make sure it wouldn't affect what he'd been trying to accomplish all along. Raoul shut his mouth, lips pressed tightly together as his mind tried to figure a way to get Erik to leave him alone already. There was no use lying now. Erik knew.

"Stop following me," he said simply. He was so tired, tired of running, of talking, of hurting. He didn't have any more tears. He didn't have any more sleepless nights and endless days to spare pining after Erik. He just couldn't do it anymore.

"Stop running." Erik stood up and approached him, stopping barely close enough to reach out and touch him if he dared. He was certain if he took a step closer, Raoul would move.

Raoul met his eyes, and Erik hated to see him like this again, resigned. "Just go back to Christine."

Erik scoffed. "I'm not with Christine."

"I don't believe you."

"I'm not," Erik repeated, hearing Raoul's apathy towards the statement. Christine had been the problem, hadn't she? Erik was erasing that problem and Raoul still didn't seem to care.

Raoul merely shrugged. Erik could say that as many times as he wanted, but there was little he could do to make him believe that lie.

"Why would I be here if I were with Christine?" Erik asked.

Raoul laughed, loudly and bitterly, "Why were you with me before, Erik? Why?"

Erik averted his eyes for a moment.

"Can you tell me why?" Raoul pressed.

"It's different now," Erik tried to explain.

"It's not," Raoul laughed again and the sound was so broken that he was forced to stop himself. "The answer to that question, Erik, is so that you could be with her," Raoul said when Erik refused to. "You were with me because you wanted to be with her." The ache in his chest had returned. He welcomed it; it was familiar and so much better than the butterflies in his stomach. He concluded, "Now, go be with her. I won't follow."

Erik, losing his temper and unable to stand Raoul flaunting his own mistakes in his face, reached out and grabbed his shoulders. "I know you won't follow." He hadn't expected Raoul to chase after them even after Raoul had raced down the stairs just in time to see them off. After all, he'd made certain of that, didn't he?

"Release me," Raoul said evenly.

"No." Erik held on tighter. "You need to listen."

"I'm already listening. I already know." Raoul didn't struggle though, knowing it would be pointless.

"I don't love Christine," he nearly yelled.

"I heard," Raoul replied blandly.

Erik shook him. "I came back just for you."

"So it would seem."

"I searched for you."

"I realize." Raoul continued to look at him calmly.

Erik floundered to find the right words to convince him that it had all been a mistake. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Raoul was already slipping away from him even when he wasn't running. When he began to believe that he'd be chasing Raoul for the rest of their lives, he suddenly knew what he had to say. "You're Dea."

Raoul looked at him in confusion before controlling any further reactions. They stared at each other.

"Is that all?" Raoul asked, clearly in a manner that conveyed he was unimpressed with his declaration. "I want to eat before I fall asleep."

Erik let him go as though he burned, frowning. He took a few steps back, trying to gather himself. He'd thought… he thought that would mean something to Raoul, that he would understand the reference. "No," he said, shaking his head. "That's not all." Raoul looked bored and tired. Erik swallowed through the lump in his throat. He consoled himself with the thought that Raoul might not understand now, but he would eventually. "One more thing."

"What?" Raoul's attention was already directed towards the bathroom where they'd left the food.

"Stop running," Erik held his hand up when Raoul looked like he was about to interrupt. His voice was tired but firm as he finished, "You'll give up running away from me a lot sooner than I'll give up running after you."

Raoul gave a short nod before heading towards the food. Once he was far enough away from Erik, he closed his eyes and breathed in shakily; he wasn't sure he wanted Erik to be proven wrong.

o.o.o.o

End Chapter 26

Word count: 5,714

o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

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

Chapter review: That was cold on Raoul's part. Cold! Who knew he had it in him? But he's got to be affected by Erik's words somehow, right? Right!?