A/N: For the sake of this AU, I decided that Erik has a full head of jet black hair. His deformity is limited to his face.

Chapter 4: Opera Populaire, Paris France, 1869

"Mon dieu." Raoul gasped.

"God doesn't exist here, dear Vicomte."

Raoul almost yelped in fear. The masked child's lips hadn't moved to form the words. He just spoke without…speaking? How was that possible?

"W-who are you?" The older boy's voice hardly rose above a whisper.

The gray eyes glinted wickedly. "The Devil's Child."

A terrible silence ensued.

The drip-drop-drip rhythm of distant water was the only noise and the intense stillness was enough to drive a person insane.

"E-Erik?" a soft, hushed tone murmured.

The white-masked head shifted ever so slightly. Though no one noticed it, his eyes had softened considerably.

"Christine." This time his lips articulated the name.

The girl sighed in relief. He didn't sound angry, irritated maybe, but when didn't he sound irritated?

"Meg and I brought you something."

"I can see that." Erik narrowed his piercing eyes, boring them into Raoul. "I wasn't ever expecting him here."

"He can be…insistent at times." Meg now spoke up, her blue eyes also watching Raoul critically.

"I-I'm sorry Erik, but he said he was going to tell Papa if he couldn't come along. I had to bring him."

Christine's dark brown eyes pleaded for her friend's understanding.

Erik nodded, his scrutinizing gaze still trained on Raoul. By now, the Vicomte had somewhat recovered from his shock and had resumed is arrogant stance and superior air. The two boys stared at one another, daring the other to look away. They sized up one another quickly, contemplating possible weaknesses.

"My name is Erik." Erik said as politely as he could, but only for the sake of Christine.

"Vicomte Raoul de Chagny," the older boy replied not missing a beat, "But I guess you already knew that."

"Figured that out all on your own?" Erik retorted. "I'm impressed."

Christine and Meg glanced at each other nervously.

This was not going to end well.

Raoul gritted his teeth. "I'll have you know-"

"Gentlemen," Meg cleared her throat, "Glad you've met, but the food is getting cold and Mother will be expecting us soon."

Neither Erik nor Raoul flinched. They stood confidently refusing to give in to the other.

Meg looked at Christine pleadingly. The little girl sighed. Christine picked up her skirts and gingerly started to climb up the stone to reach where Erik was standing. Instinctively, Erik bent down to help her ascend the incline. Christine shuffled up to stand next to him, her basket clutched tightly in her hand.

Raoul couldn't help but grin triumphantly. 'This insolent has a weakness… and a girl no less'

Immediately, he felt a hard smack on his arm.

"Ow! What was that for?" he growled.

"Stop gawking and help me up!" Meg snapped harshly, abruptly ending his vain thoughts.

Meg and Raoul soon made their way up to stand on the high platform of stone. Erik greeted them with a smug grin.

"What are you staring at?" Raoul spat.

Erik pointedly ignored him.

"What did you bring me?" Erik asked facing Christine, his tone slightly demanding.

"Mainly bread and cheese, but I did manage to sneak some sweets." Christine piped up excitedly, "I would have gotten more, but the cook hardly left the kitchen. Afraid of someone stealing her precious supplies I suppose."

"I wonder why." Raoul mumbled under his breath.

Meg then spoke, describing the wrapped parcel she had carried through the catacombs. "I brought a slab of last night's ham, along with a small bottle of wine. It isn't much, but along with Lotte's goods you should be alright for the rest of the week."

Decidedly, Erik took the basket and smoked ham. His thin frame was barely hidden behind his loose-fitting trousers and over-sized white shirt. Erik awkwardly cleared his throat, suddenly remembering the manners Antoinette had desperately tried to instill in him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Erik." Meg replied.

Raoul snorted, annoyed. A chilling draft had begun to whistle through the caves, and he was getting impatient to return to the surface.

Erik raised his one visible eyebrow in amusement, "Afraid of a little wind Vicomte?"

"Afraid of sneaking into the kitchen to steal your own meals?" Raoul snapped, his voice acidic.

Erik's gray-green gaze bore daggers into Raoul's skull, his temper flaring. "Trying to live is no crime." His tone was a menacing growl.

"I hardly call this living."

Erik suddenly stood in front of Raoul, his mask nearly grazing the Vicomte's face. "What do you know about the way I live? Everything you have has been given to you!"

"Of course!" Raoul stood his ground, barely standing taller than the younger boy. "The poor boy with no family or money. Is that the best card you could play? The victim?"

"Raoul," Christine's voice shook, terror running rampant through her veins. "Don't."

"Tell me Erik," Raoul scoffed, "Are you so low that you hide behind the skirts of my cousin?"

Raoul leaned dangerously close to Erik, oblivious to the signs of scarcely restrained rage on Erik's features.

"Or do you hide behind that pitiful mask?"

An animal-like roar ripped through the air as Erik pummeled his shoulder into Raoul's gut. The boys crashed into the stone ground, a blur of flesh and clothing. Erik's advantage of surprise and agile movements had him sitting on top the other young man, sending punch after blow into Raoul's face.

"No!" Christine screamed.

"Enough!" Meg snatched Erik by the scuff of his collar and yanked him off of the Vicomte. Erik slid onto the cold floor, his shirt torn and black hair askew. Raoul had barely escaped with his facial bones intact. Meg dragged him upright, his nose spewing blood all over his clothes.

"You will pay for that you insolent piece of-"

"Be silent!" Meg heaved Raoul back down the stone floor's incline.

"This is far from over, Erik."

Meg ignored de Chagny and turned to Christine. "Come on Lotte. It's time we left. Mother will be expecting us before supper."

Christine nodded numbly. Meg helped Raoul back through the passages, her oil lamp in one hand and Raoul limping along on the other. When the two were out of sight, Christine turned to Erik, her brown eyes nearly overflowing with tears.

"Erik-"

"I'm fine." Erik snapped harshly, standing up slowly. Miraculously, his snow-white mask still stuck to his face.

Christine swallowed painfully hard. "I-I am s-sorry about Raoul. I-I tried to stop h-him, but…"

Christine broke into sobs. Erik's anger quickly melted, his heart feeling for the young girl.

"Shh…It's alright." He placed a hand on her shaking shoulders, his tone comforting. "Please don't cry."

Christine sniffed, her watery gaze fixed wonderingly on him. "Y-you're not angry?"

Erik shrugged, his face breaking into a mischievous grin. "I made him bleed didn't I?"

Christine looked shocked for a moment, then giggled, relieved. "His nose looked positively awful."

"He's going to be sore for days. Weeks if we are lucky."

"Weeks without Raoul? Maybe you should beat him more often!"

Erik looked at the girl incredulously, then they both burst out laughing.

"Lotte!"

Meg's voice resounded throughout the cave, calling from somewhere distant.

"Coming!" Christine responded, her giggles still apparent in her voice.

"You should go, Christine. Madame Giry will be missing you." Erik said, his own face cracked in a rare smirk.

Christine picked up the torch that Raoul had flung aside, and stepped gingerly to the edge of the raised stone platform. Then she turned quickly and planted a kiss on Erik's bare cheek.

"Thank you for not being upset." Christine jumped down into the pit, and skipped gaily back to the surface.

She left a very stunned Erik behind her.