Surrender to your Darkest Dreams

Chapter 6

Raoul awoke with a moan, his memory of the night's events ambiguous. Finding himself face down on the cold marble floor, he rolled himself onto his back and attempted to open his eyes, which proved to be a near impossible task. Even the dimly lit gas lamps proved too strong a light and made his retinas sear. After several attempts, he partially regained his vision, and moved himself across the corridor to rest his back against the wall, his head and face throbbing with pain. Several people had walked past him now, and not one had made eye contact or offered him any compassion or assistance. Taking his pocket watch out from his waistcoat, he realised it was now 11:45pm – about two and a half hours since he had first sat down in Box Five to watch Christine in Il Muto. Everything else seemed to be a blur, a swirling pool of recollections that he couldn't fit together.

In that moment, Monsieur Firman turned the corner to find Raoul slumped against the wall. "Vicomte! Thank goodness I've found you, where have you been?"

"Firman…it seems I don't quite know myself" Raoul replied, uttering a small laugh to himself. "I'm having problems recounting this evenings occurrences...a drink should help don't you think? Where is Monsieur Andre?" he concluded, holding out his arm to Firman, who quickly complied and pulled Raoul to his feet.

"Monsieur Andre is in the office, we'll join him now for that drink, and to discuss...everything."

Raoul nodded, and appreciated the proximity of the office being conveniently only a few corridors away. Walking through the Opera Populaire, Raoul couldn't help but feel unnerved. An unsettling silence replaced the usual life and noise that pulsed through it every day. He gulped and kept his head down as he looked through his eyelashes at those that passed him. A sense of melancholy painted their faces, even the very walls of the Opera House. If only he could remember.

Erik's eyes fluttered open as he felt Christine struggle in his arms. They had barely been asleep an hour, and already her dreams had turned to nightmares. "Oh my love" he whispered sleepily, daintily kissing her soft pink lips and loosening his protective grip on her, hoping that giving her the space to fight the demons in her dream world would help her to defeat them.

"No please stop…Angel! Save me please!" Christine began to scream piercingly, her arms flailing, tears escaping from her closed eyes. Erik knew he had to intervene.

"Christine, shhh….I'm here" he cooed, pulling her into his safe embrace once again and caressing her cheek, wiping her tears away with the backs of his fingers. Sleepily she opened her eyes, her tears blurring her vision. Realising she was safe with her Angel of Music, she sighed and placed her arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss, her lips trembling as she calmed and reassured herself that it was just a dream. "Sleep my Christine" he whispered "your Angel has you under his wing…I love you" he confirmed. Kissing him a final time, Christine nestled herself against him, her head resting against his chest.

"And I you" she replied, placing kisses on his skin before falling back to sleep, feeling Erik embrace her protectively once again.

Raoul cradled his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees as he sat in one of the two armchairs adjacent from the Managers' desk. The pain would not cease and the events from only a few hours ago could not be coaxed from the deep recesses of his memory.

"...and of course during the panic you were unaccounted for. When Madame Giry informed us that you had gone missing that's when Firman went in search of you and found you as you were". Andre's recount of the ruckus stirred in Raoul's mind. He remembered the play and how gorily it was interrupted. The severed pieces of Joseph Buquet's body knocking Carlotta to the floor. The piercing screams of the audience. The look on Christine's face. Christine.

"Christine...I followed her. I followed her and her friend...Madame Giry's daughter... - her name escapes me - along the corridors, waves of people everywhere." Raoul remembered.

"Yes Vicomte that's right!" Firman squealed with delight.

"Beyond that my memory fails me I'm afraid gentlemen". Raoul sat back in his chair, beginning to unknot his cravat with his free hand whilst his other balanced his scotch glass on his knee.

"But surely you must remember your reason for pursuing Miss Daae?" Andre asked astonished.

"She's the love of my life perhaps? My most prized possession?" Raoul quipped, becoming impatient, removing his cravat and undoing the first several buttons on his shirt. Andre and Firman stared astonished at what they were faced with.

"V-Vicomte..." Andre managed to murmur.

"What?" Raoul responded curtly.

"Y-your neck!" Firman replied, his arm raising his hand to point at the incriminating area.

Raoul frowned at the Managers in confusion and raised his hand to his neck, wincing at the touch. A memory stirred in his mind. Leaping from his chair he started for the mirror on the wall. Staring aghast at his reflection everything suddenly came flooding back to him. His neck was completely covered in a swirl of bruises, a patchwork of colours. Anger seared through him as he remembered the confrontation between himself and the Opera Ghost. His beloved Christine lying helpless on the floor as that monster tightened his grip harder and harder around his neck. The last thing he experienced before being knocked unconscious.

"You remember Vicomte...our arrangement?" Andre dared to ask Raoul, noting his rage.

"Did you do it? Are we...are we free of the Opera Ghost?" Firman continued, almost in a desperate whisper.

Raoul did not answer, he could not. Throwing his glass of drink to the floor and smashing it, he turned to his Managers whom both wore a look that suggested they already knew the answer to their questions.

"I was...unsuccessful" Raoul admitted, his ego hurt, beginning to pace the room whilst he companions looked on in silence. "Gentlemen we need a new strategy. I need time. Time to think. For now, I suggest we obey his orders". Neither Andre nor Firman dared to argue as a silence spread uncomfortably through the room. "How is Carlotta?" Raoul finally managed to ask.

"She's fine. Although very disturbed by what happened as you can imagine. She took to her bed to rest as soon as she was cleared of the...mess and cleaned up." Andre replied, a lump forming in his throat as the memory of his description stirred in his mind.

"And Piangi?"

"He's not yet left her side". Firman confirmed.

""You must get yourself checked out too Vicomte."

"No...no no I'm fine..." Raoul lied, turning for the door "thank you for your concern. I must be leaving now gentlemen. I apologise that we are still in this predicament. Just...give me time. We will have sole rule over this Opera House soon". Opening the door and closing it behind him Raoul made his way along the corridor, biting his lip to prevent the blasphemies he wanted to unleash from escaping his mouth. After all, he still had his reputation to consider, despite the fact that each person he passed kept their eyes to the floor. Christine will be yours he thought to himself, a sly grin creeping across his face. He knew this was true, but such an ambition needed careful planning, more so than his last idea. He knew where he needed to go for inspiration.

Christine's dressing room had been left exactly as he remembered it, except of course he was now the sole occupant. Eyeing each and every object he gave each one careful consideration, willing inspiration out of each of them. Nothing inspired him, until the stinging pain of his neck returned, making him long for rest. Catching a glimpse of himself in the large golden framed mirror, he turned to leave; sure that sleep would be the antidote to his mental block.

His eyes fell to the floor as he started for the door, coming across something he had not yet noticed. Lying by where he had first walked in on his beloved Christine and her masked lover, was a single red rose tied with a black ribbon – identical to that of the one she had shown him after her opening night as Alyssa in Hannibal. The night she told him of her Angel of Music...

Picking it up he held it gently between his fingers, eyeing it for a few moments. He knew the sender of this romantic gesture, he knew for sure. And he knew how to use it to his advantage. His sly smile crept across his face once more as he exited the room, his means of capturing Christine's heart in his hands.

Erik awoke once more, the feel of Christine's soft porcelain skin beneath his fingertips, the scent of her hair present. He could not imagine a more beautiful creature than the one sleeping peacefully in his arms right at this moment. But he sighed as reality hit – even if he wanted to, he couldn't be with Christine in his bed forever. Tucking a stray curl behind her ear and planting a soft, almost untraceable kiss on her lips, he gently eased himself from the bed, his arms still encased around her. Careful not to wake her, he began to slowly pull them from her dainty body.

Free from his bed, he watched her sigh a smile as she turned over, watching her curl her body into a foetal position as he lit a few candles. A sudden carnal urge seized him. He had urgent things he needed to attend to, but couldn't deny himself the pleasure of seeing his Christine between his sheets. Just a few moments more he thought to himself, easing himself slowly back into the bed, careful not to wake her. Lying behind her, he began to move her curls away from her neck and begin to plant kisses all the way along it and finally on her one exposed shoulder. Hearing her exhale a moan, he continued his exploration, sliding one arm under her body to hold her to him and the other under his shirt that he had placed on her the night before, sweeping his hand along her hips and across her navel, all the while still planting kisses at the nape of her neck. Every inch of her skin was so soft; his fingertips had never felt anything more luxurious, moving their way up to her breast, cupping it and slowly circling her nipple with his thumb.

Christine's sleepy gasps now emitting from her mouth were almost enough to send him over the edge, feeling her arch her back against his body, his growing erection evident against her. Erik stopped his teasing of her body instantly as he felt her awake and turn in his arms to meet his gaze. What was he thinking? Watching her sleepily open her eyes to meet his, she smiled, placing her palm against his masked cheek and making their lips meet in an innocent kiss.

"Sleep my Christine, we can continue this later" he began to whisper against her lips "sleep" he repeated, in an almost soft growl. Christine had no trouble in obeying him, her eyes shutting immediately. Erik left his Sleeping Beauty, watching her sweep her palm over where he had just been laying beside her. He wanted nothing more than to ravage her in that moment, but knew she needed to heal and rest after all she had been put through...put through because I wasn't there to watch over her.

He thought it must be about 7am, the usual time he rises. Sitting at his desk he began to write his necessary letters. One to Antoinette, explaining that Christine is still in his care and attaching a detailed list of what he would need for her to fetch for him whilst Christine will be with him. Finally, enclosing a substantial amount of money for her budget and for her kindness, he fastened the envelope with his usual skull shaped seal.

The second to his Managers – briefly explaining that Christine is still under the Angel of Music's wing, and that should she be mistreated again, he could not hold himself accountable for his actions. Applying the wax seal, he took out another piece of paper, turned to look at his still sleeping Christine and smiled before writing.

Dressing himself, he knew that in his absence Christine would be safe here. No one knew of his existence in the catacombs except Antoinette, who had been a dear friend to him all these years - she posed no threat. Applying his cloak and placing the last sealed letter on his pillow, Erik interlaced his fingers with his beloved Christine's one exposed hand, happy that the swelling had noticeably gone down since those idiots Raoul and Carlotta had hurt her. With the plant of a small kiss on her lips, he turned to leave.

A/N: I have no idea where the past three months have gone but I'm back! More to come very soon I promise!

xoxo