A/N: Thank you for the continued support! :) I hope you enjoy this chapter and please let me know what you think! (I only own OCs, blah blah) ;) See you next time!

Chapter Twenty-Five – Unforeseen Circumstances

"You have visitors, monsieur," the butler informed him that morning with a smile on his face.

Philippe de Chagny raised an eyebrow at his employee, curious to know just who could be visiting at this early hour in the morning. "Is that so?"

As the butler began to speak once more, the cooing of their head maid filled the air, full of loving chastising. "To think, you up and vanish and we have no clue where you are until now that you're back home, safe and sound again!" she giggled, her footsteps echoed by others.

Philippe's brows furrowed at this, setting his morning tea down on the table and pipe before rising from his seat and abandoning his breakfast. "Could it be…?"

Two heads of blonde hair entered the room, both sets of blue eyes upon him in an instant, waiting for a reaction from the Comte. He gawked at them, stunned and still as a statue.

"…hello, brother," Raoul de Chagny said at last, his arm placed securely around Christine's shoulders. "We're home."

Philippe said nothing, his throat dry as he took a step towards them, his emotions in turmoil. Reaching out to his little brother, he placed his shaking hand upon his shoulder and gripped him. Swallowing hard, he forced out an answer. "…hello."

Raoul released Christine for a moment, embracing his brother tightly. He felt Philippe slowly return the embrace, still shocked to see him return. He chewed his lower lip, knowing that he really should have sent in a letter, but this seemed safer, considering what happened when they were last in Paris. They had taken a huge risk, at Christine's insistence, to come back, and before they did anything else, Raoul made her promise that they would see his brother after visiting Mamma Valerius.

At last, the two brothers pulled apart and shared an uncertain, weary smile. "You…you came home…but why-?"

"We wanted to see our family again," Raoul explained. "We already stopped by the Valerius estate…I…I almost didn't come in here, and I was the one who wanted to see you…but Christine talked some sense into me and, well, here we are."

Philippe looked to Christine, who had remained silent throughout the awkward reunion. A small smile grew on his lips as he took her hand and kissed it, bowing politely to her. "Thank you."

"Of course," she answered softly. "You're brothers, after all."

"Philippe, tell me…is he still…well, what I mean to say is-" Raoul began, his arm moving around Christine's shoulders once more.

"If you're talking about Erik, I can assure you that all is well. He's changed since your last encounter," Philippe informed them casually, startling the newlyweds.

Christine raised her hand to her dropped jaw, staring at him in disbelief. "…you act as if you got in contact with him."

"Oh, I did," he answered with a shrug. "We got together and had a little chat just the other day. Do have a seat, there's plenty to eat."

"Wait just a moment! You mean to tell me that you sat down and talked with that…that monster?!" Raoul all but shouted, causing his brother and wife to shush him as though he were a child. "Terribly sorry…but in all seriousness, Philippe-!"

"I have much to tell you about how things have changed around here," Philippe sighed, rolling his eyes at his little brother's over exaggerations. "Do take a seat – you'll need it…"

Five Days Ago…

Philippe was extremely curious to know just what Rupert Adelshire wanted of him to call him over so early that afternoon. Knocking on the door of the estate, the servants greeted him cordially, taking his hat and coat before ushering him into the drawing room where an early tea was being served.

"Ah, Comte de Chagny!" Adelshire smiled, puffing at his pipe as he stood by the hearth. Setting the item down upon the mantle, he walked over to the man and offered his hand. "I'm delighted you could come on such short notice."

"The pleasure is all mine," Philippe answered politely, shaking hands with the elder before taking a seat at one of the chairs available, catching sight of the fanciful tea set placed on the coffee table. "I must confess, I was rather surprised that you asked me to come in. We've never formally met, you know."

"Yes, I'm afraid I'm at fault for that," Lord Adelshire apologized, offering the man a cigar, which he readily accepted. "However, I have been extremely busy…I don't suppose you've heard that the Garnier is once again under new management?"

"Only rumors…" He raised an eyebrow at Adelshire, watching him pour three cups of tea. "Three? Is someone else coming…?"

"My comrades Firmin and Moncharmin are ready to leave behind the opera business and I have become the new owner, however I do have a new partner and I've made him the manager of the Palais Garnier. He's quite remarkable," he chuckled. "I believe you may have met already, unfortunately, it was under different and unpleasant circumstances from what I've been told."

Philippe stared at him, struggling to piece the message together. "…I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't follow. Just who are we talking about?"

"Good afternoon, Comte de Chagny."

Philippe froze at the sound of the third voice, familiarity echoing from the depths of his memory. Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned his head and looked over his shoulder to see a gentleman he had never seen before standing at the center of the room. He couldn't recall hearing the door open which made his skin crawl, especially as he watched the stranger take his hat off after unclasping his cloak.

"Philippe de Chagny, this is Erik Chevalier, my partner and the new manager of the Palais Garnier," Adelshire spoke, his eyes moving from one man to the other.

The moment the man raised his face and revealed his odd, entrancing black and golden eyes, Philippe jumped out of his chair, reaching for the pistol at his side.

"That's quite unnecessary, Monsieur le Comte," Erik said calmly, fearlessly taking another step towards him.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Philippe demanded, glaring accusingly at Adelshire. "Have you set me up-?!"

"Perish the thought!" the man frowned, truly looking insulted by his words. "I realize that you both are not necessarily on friendly terms, but this is utterly ridiculous!"

"The last time I saw this-this thing, I barely escaped with my life!" he snapped, pointing at Erik as he continued to walk towards them. He took a step back as Erik arrived at the table and sat down, accepting the cup of tea from Adelshire. "Just what did you have in mind, Opera Ghost-?!"

"Have a seat," Erik snapped, his eyes blazing as he glared at the man.

Philippe was stunned by the finality in his voice, sensing his frustration and hurt from the lash of words. He remained standing, however he did walk back towards them and waited until Erik had taken a sip from his cup before clearing his throat, waiting for an explanation. He was absolutely befuddled by the new face he now wore – he looked incredibly…well, normal, compared to the last time they crossed paths.

"I know this is very difficult for you, monsieur, however, I'm afraid that my patience is wearing thin," Erik said bluntly. "So I shall state my case as simply as possible so that you may comprehend what I am asking of you. I only wished to ask you to keep an eye out for a particular figure lurking about in Paris."

"A-ha…and that figure would be…?" Philippe asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Randall Cutler," Adelshire said, his entire countenance changing. His eyes darkened and the cheerful smile from his face disappeared.

Philippe and Erik exchanged glances at one another, Erik's knowing, Philippe's intrigued. "Cutler? I've never heard of the fellow," the Comte commented.

"He's recently arrived from London," Erik explained.

"I take it that you both are familiar with the gentleman-?"

"He's not a gentleman," Adelshire snapped, startling both of his guests. "He's had a long history with my family…I knew the boy's father when I was young, and he was terrible. He was a drunken fool and an abusive man…Randall's mother died when he was a child, so he was in my custody for a time. I was the one who introduced him to investments and got him interested as he got older…but he was utterly obsessed with being with his father, and vanished one day. He didn't come back for years until suddenly when his father died. The funeral was brief, and I noticed there was something different about him." He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "All that time I had invested in the boy and hoped he would become something more…he threw it all away, he valued his father's 'guidance' on being careless, selfish, and impulsive. He was no better than a common street rat…"

Philippe's brows furrowed as he saw Erik rise and assist the old man into a chair, gripping his friend's shoulder comfortingly. This "monster" was extremely friendly and at ease with his Lordship…perhaps Angelique had truly changed him for the better… "As bad as all that?"

"Worse," Adelshire confessed. "He's absolutely obsessive. He went on his way, but he always managed to come back…he even started eyeing my granddaughter, Mary. The last we saw of him was over a year ago when he went on an excursion to America…Mary came to visit me just the other day but we found that he had followed her…however, I'm afraid she's not the only one who has his attention."

At this, Erik's eyes met Philippe, a chill running through the Comte's spine as he realized what he was insinuating. "Do you mean-?"

"That's why I asked you to come," Erik said. "Angelique told me last night that she saw him lurking about. She can sense his presence…I've been able to keep him at bay, however…" His eyes darkened and his tone became black. "I shall not hesitate to stop him if he gets too close."

"I have no doubt of that," he muttered. "I ask again, why involve me?"

"I know you still care for Angelique," Erik said coolly, looking him in the eye.

Philippe sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "I do care for her, but I love Sorelli. I've made a point of making this clear to both girls, and they accepted it. I just hope you can as well."

"Just the same, I would appreciate your assistance," Erik admitted, rolling his eyes as Philippe's jaw dropped. "Close your mouth, monsieur. It's not as if I gave you the secret to eternal life on Earth."

"We could both use your help, as you are a patron of the opera…that is, if you still wish to be," Adelshire cut in, hoping that the Comte would not decide to abandon them at this moment. "Randall is a dangerous man, and I'm afraid he may cause problems. I've already alerted the police, but I'd rather we all be on our guard."

Nodding his head after a moment's pause, the Comte de Chagny answered firmly, "For the sake of the opera house and its employees, especially our beloveds, I shall gladly offer my assistance in any way possible."

"Thank you," Erik nodded. "I've already alerted Nadir-"

"The Persian?" asked Philippe raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, he's been keeping an eye on Randall since he stepped into the Garnier," Adelshire informed him.

"There's one thing you should remember, in the case of an emergency," Erik added. "Cutler is an extremely superstitious fellow. He believes in ghosts, spirits, hauntings…"

"Why is that?"

Adelshire shook his head and frowned. "…I believe he was the cause of his own father's sudden death…God help me, I even wonder if he might have been disturbed as a child and done something to harm his mother. I know in that time that he ran away to be with his father and went through that change, he did and saw terrible things…I believe that is why he is so superstitious. He believes he is haunted by the spirits of those whom he has done ill against. When he approached Mary and myself, he was petrified when I mentioned 'the Phantom of the Opera', and the moment Erik spoke out, he became as pale as a sheet."

"Speaking of which, just how did you find out about Erik being the 'Ghost'?" Philippe asked, raising both brows at the elder. "You seem awfully comfortable with the whole situation."

"I found it fascinating, and I will not judge Erik for his past and previous prejudices," the Englishman stated stubbornly. "It was Angelique that brought us together in the end."

"That doesn't surprise me," chuckled the Comte. Walking towards them, he offered his hand to Erik though his mind screamed against the action. "Very well, then. I trust we shall be seeing each other more often from now on…if we are to work together, I certainly hope to at least improve our…erm-"

"Relationship?" Erik offered, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. "Yes, I suppose that would be appropriate. It would be for the best…" Philippe squinted, taking a better look at the face before him. Erik frowned at this, uncomfortable with how he was suddenly being scrutinized. "What is it?"

"Sorry, it's just…how did you make that mask?" he asked, his fascination leaking through at last. "It's incredible!"

A smile worked its way onto his artificial lips. "It wasn't easy, but it was well worth the effort…"

"That truly is incredible," Christine gasped, placing her hand over her bosom. "And he's quite civil now-?"

"Oh yes. I assure you, we don't go out for drinks each night or play cards like old friends," he smirked at his little brother, noticing the uncomfortable irritation in his eyes. "But he is cordial, he's decent company, and he's got a sharp mind. He's mad about Angelique, you know Raoul, I don't think there would be any problems if you happened to bump into him-"

"We are not going to the opera," Raoul said coldly. "That maniac is not to be trusted-"

"Raoul, please," Christine pleaded, placing her hand on his arm. "At least let me talk to him. If he's really changed, he won't come after us. We can't live in fear like this forever."

"I can't risk losing you," he shook his head.

"You won't," she insisted.

"He might try to trick you again-"

"Please, Raoul…just a moment?"

Raoul glanced at his brother, seeing no signs of discouragement. "You're not being a very big help, you know," he sighed in defeat.

"Was I ever supposed to be?" Philippe chuckled, patting him on the back. "While I won't suggest leaving her alone with him, you should at least go there. They're getting ready to perform a new production."

"You'll come with us, won't you?" Christine asked, turning her attention to her brother-in-law. She was aware that he hadn't approved of Raoul's interest in her when they first began to see one another, but he seemed relaxed as of late, as if he had begun to accept them after the madness that had ensued with Erik's control over them all. The idea of another madman lurking the streets of Paris made her more anxious than meeting her old teacher.

"Of course," he nodded. "Just as soon as we finish our meal."

~OG~

"Isn't this exciting, dear?" Fanette gushed as she and Lamar watched from the wings of the opera while their son practiced his lines. "Oh, he's wonderful!"

"Yes, he is," Lamar nodded, a smile growing on his lips. Pride swelled within him as Adrien's voice rang out in the air. He reached for his cheek, feeling the strange material that now covered his deformed half. He had fallen to his knees once Erik had placed it on his face the night he brought it home and adjusted it over his marred face. Oh, how he wept, gripping onto Erik's cloak after seeing his own reflection. Both his wife and son were in awe when they saw him, their faces lighting up as he cried. "We love you even without it," they vowed, but he was so blinded with ecstasy and gratitude that all he did was cry, never letting go of the inventor's cloak. Lamar was not one to cry so easily, but that night he wept as he never had before, unable to believe that maybe, just maybe, he could rejoin his fellow man on the street without having to attract so much unwanted attention…He was given a second chance to live once more.

Returning his gaze to the stage, he enjoyed his son's singing, never failing to show his support in any way possible. Erik had done so much for them and continued to give, always treating them as equals, never as servants – they would forever be in his debt, always treasuring his friendship and kindness. The lessons which Adrien received each night greatly improved his voice, his baritone filling the elegant auditorium with a sweet, heartfelt sonata that begged for a woman's affections. The moment Adrien finished, his fellow performers cheered and clapped, causing him to bow his head modestly towards them before excusing himself to see his parents.

"Oh, my dear, dear boy!" Fanette cooed, kissing him repeatedly. "I am so proud of you!"

"Mother!" he hissed, though he couldn't contain his delight as he grinned. "Not in front of the others!"

"Oh, let them see!" she laughed, embracing him tightly.

"Fanette, don't smother him," Lamar chuckled, patting his son's shoulder. "You're doing well under Erik's guidance."

"I couldn't have done any of this without Maestro's help," Adrien agreed. "And I still have much to learn and practice."

"I'd say you're doing a wonderful job so far," Becca said as she joined the group with her friends in tow. "Adrien, you are marvelous!"

"It's so nice that your parents could come," Meg beamed.

"Do thank your mother for us, dear. She's the one who let us in," Fanette said kindly as she looked towards the dancer.

"Adrien, I don't believe you've met her yet, but I'd like you to meet our new friend," Angelique said, motioning for a hidden figure to step forth. "This is Mary Adelshire."

"Yes…yes, I remember," Adrien nodded, his eyes widening as he saw the beautiful young girl standing before him, a shy smile on her lips. Bowing to her, he said, "It is a pleasure and an honor to meet you, mademoiselle."

"The pleasure's all mine," she blushed, offering her hand to him. She felt her neck become suddenly warm as he took her hand and kissed it, his eyes lingering on her for a moment before standing erect and clasping his hands behind his back. "You're being trained by my grandfather's partner, just like Angelique, aren't you?"

"They are indeed," Erik's velvety voice curled around them as he joined them, seemingly appearing out of thin air. He grinned as they all jumped in surprise at his approach…all, that is, except Angelique, who smiled at him as he came forth. "I take it you are enjoying your stay here in Paris so far, Mademoiselle Adelshire?"

"O-Oh, yes, M-Monsieur Chevalier," she stammered, her heart pounding from his surprising entrance. He reminded her of a cat at times, appearing out of nowhere and never making his presence known until he was directly behind them all. Still, he was extremely charming and exceedingly polite. In fact, everyone she had encountered at the opera was happy to have here there. She spent nearly every day with her newfound companions when she wasn't with her grandfather, and rightly so. She had aught glimpses of Randall Cutler snooping around the opera since she arrived, and even caught a glance of him outside her grandfather's estate one evening. Fear encircled her whenever this happened, making her uneasy throughout most of the day. The worst of all this was the now Angelique, kind and welcoming Angelique, had also mentioned seeing the man stalking around her home as well.

"Not to worry, Erik will take care if it if he gets too close," she had said calmly, unnerving the sixteen-year-old British girl. Still, she felt much safer with these excitable French people that always talked about a phantom running the opera house than staying at her grandfather's home with a handful of servants.

"Maestro, you said you wanted to take the night off?" Adrien asked, turning to his teacher at once.

"Oui, just tonight," the man nodded. "I shall be staying at my current residence." He sent Angelique a wink to which she smiled back. The Jouberts would keep their business secret and had a silent understanding of them – though Erik and Angelique lived together in the same house, whether it be in Pierre Archambault's home or in Erik's house (which they still had no idea was underneath the opera house), the two never had any extramarital affairs. Erik was a gentleman, after all, and Angelique would not allow it either way.

"You see, Christine? What did I tell you? He has practically started a school since you left."

Erik's eyes widened upon hearing the voice and name, his brows furrowing as his mind began to race. Glancing over his shoulder, he sucked in a breath as he saw three more figures approach them.

"Hello Erik," Philippe de Chagny greeted him with a tip of his hat. "I thought you might like to see some familiar faces."

Raoul gaped at him in awe, unable to mask his shock upon seeing Erik with a normal face. While his jaw dropped to the floor, Christine's bright blue eyes glistened with admiration and friendly affection. "Hello, Erik."

A smile slowly worked its way to his lips as he mimicked Philippe's actions and tipped his wide-brimmed fedora to her. "Hello again, Christine."