Papa, Can You Hear Me?
Pairing: E/C duh
Summary: Christine is lonely. She misses her Angel of Music and her beloved Father.
Disclaimer: Don't own nobbut meself, the song is one I got off of "Michael Crawford In Concert" which is a very lovely CD and you should GO OUT AND BUY IT! It also makes you REALLY Appreciate Sarah Brightman.
Which universe: Well… Let's take the phantom from ALW (Michael Crawford) and the Christine from the 2004 (Emmy Rossum) and I really couldn't care less who you see as Raoul as he is a ginourmous prick.
Christine Daaé stood on the balcony, leaning on the carved stone balustrade. Her small fingers caressed the intricate designs on the rough granite as she gazed out into the darkness of the small forest that graced the De Chagny estate.
She was to be married to Raoul in less than two days, two days to be primped and prodded by giggling ladies' maids. A woman should be surrounded by friends on her wedding day, but Raoul had insisted she not invite Mme Giry and Meg. Saying that it would only serve to remind her of "the horrors of that night".
"Oh Papa… What will become of me?" she asked the stars softly.
The stars only twinkled back, reflecting the twinkle of tears in Christine beautiful wide eyes.
It all began,
The day I found,
That from my window,
I could only see a piece of sky
I stepped outside,
And looked around,
I never dreamed it was so wide
Or even half as high!
And what of her beloved Angel? Why had she betrayed him? Why had she left the man who had promised her the world and everything in it. Why?
"Papa I miss you so… I need you, now more than ever…" she whispered.
Papa can you hear me?
Papa can you see me?
Papa can you find me in the night?
Papa are you near me?
Papa can you hear me?
Papa can you help me not be frightened?
She and Raoul were not even married and already the abuse had started. Raoul seemed determined that every aspect of her life would revolve around or be governed by himself. Christine just wanted to be happy. She wanted to sing and be happy. Raoul had seen that neither would happen.
"No wife of mine will parade around onstage! You are my wife Christine, and you will do as I say!"
Looking at the skies I seem to see a million eyes
Which ones are yours?
Where are you now that yesterday has waved goodbye and closed its doors?
The night is so much darker
The wind is so much colder
The world I see is so much bigger now that I'm alone
Can you hear me praying?
Anything I'm saying?
Even though the night is filled with voices!
"Papa? What am I to do!" she pleaded with the silent stars.
I remember everything you taught me every book I've ever read
Can all the words in all the books help me to
face what lies ahead?
The trees are so much taller
And I feel so much smaller
The moon is twice is lonely
And the stars are half as bright.
Her subconscious mind traveled back in time, to her father's home in Sweden. The Christmas's they had spent. Her mind even brought back her mother. Her mother… Christine hadn't thought of her in many years.
Papa how I love you.
Papa how I need you
Papa how I miss you kissing me goodnight.
She remembered her father, fair and bearded, lifting her up onto his shoulders and twirling around joyfully. She remembered the worried look on her mother's face as her only child swung precariously from the tall man's shoulders."Oh papa! Will Saint Nicholas come! Will he come and bring me presents!"
"If you are good, Little Lotte. If you are good. Now go to sleep little one. " her father's voice rumbled.
She felt a hot rush of tears cascade over her cheeks. She had lost first her mother, then her father, and now… Now she had lost… Erik.
Oh tell me where?
Where is the someone who will turn to look at me
And want to share
My every sweet imagined possibility
The more I live.
Christine's mind traveled once more to a different time, not so long ago. To a place that was not too far from where she stood now.
"Erik…" her voice quavered.
The tall man turned from where he stood, leaning heavily against the mantle of the fireplace. His unmasked cheek exposed to her, she did not flinch.
"You must go. My angel. You must leave this place of Darkness." he ordered gruffly.
"The Darkness if not only the lack of light, Christine, the Darkness is what will-has destroyed me. I will not have it destroy you as well. Not the one thing I treasure above all things."
"Oh mon ange…" she murmured, moving closer to him and pressing her hand to his unmasked cheek.
His eyes slid shut as if in pure ecstasy at her mere touch.
"You have been good to me, my dear Christine. You have shown an old man happiness, and so I release you. You are not bound to me. Go and live your life." he whispered.
Christine's stomach clenched as she remembered his stilted, painful movements as he settled himself into his chair, exhaustion stealing over his face.
The more I learn.
The more I learn the more realize, the less I know!
Realization suddenly struck her. She had to make a decision. Christine Daaé was responsible for her own life. She had to take charge and make a change. Wiping away a few errant tears, she turned from the balcony and stepped into her room. She bustled about, throwing clothes into a carpetbag.
Each step I take
Papa I've a voice now!
Each page I turn
Papa I've a choice now!
Each mile I travel only means more I have to go
What's wrong with wanting more?
She quickly scribbled a note and placed it on her pillow, then stole away through the dark house. Christine's dark blue cloak billowed gently after her and she ran down the steps.
If you can fly than soar!
With all there is
Why settled for
Just a piece of sky!
She tracked down a stable-boy and ordered him to get her a carriage.
"You, boy! I need a carriage! I must get to Paris."
"A carriage! Are you deaf! There's a pretty penny in it for you if you do not tell the Vicomte and you get the carriage here with all speed."
"Yes Ma'am!" the young boy hurried away and disappeared round the corner of the barn.
A few minutes later her appeared tugging a very sleepy and disheveled man. The driver.
"Sir, I must get to Paris with all due speed! I beg of you! It is of the greatest importance!" she pleaded with the balding older man.
The man, who's name incidentally was Pierre, gave her one long searching look before hurrying away to harness a horse.
In under ten minutes Christine was on the way home… to the Opera house!
Papa I can hear you!
Her heart pounded in her chest. The ride seemed to take an eternity.
"Oh papa! I hope he's alright!"
Closer and closer they came until she could see the hulking shape of the Garnier. The sun was just beginning to show over the horizon.
"Erik… Oh god I hope you're there!" she murmured to herself.
Papa I can see you!
Christine nearly threw herself out of the carriage as it slowed in front of the Opera House. She tossed a bag of coins at the driver and called an indistinct thank you over her shoulder.
She let herself in through the secret entrance and began running down the winding tunnels of the underground labyrinth. She knew she was close to her goal, just a little further!
The young Prima Donna threw open the door of Erik's home and raced into the living room. A fire roared in the fireplace, and sitting where she had left him nearly a week ago was-
"ERIK!" she gasped.
Papa I can feel you!
Erik's head slowly turned, hooded eyes widening in shock.
She threw herself at him as he rose to his feet. Christine buried her face in his chest, suddenly sobbing.
"I'm so so s-sorry Erik! I'll never leave you again! I'm sorry!" she cried.
He pulled away from her for a moment, holding her at arms length and studying her intensely. After a moment he wrapped his arms tightly around her.
"If you ever leave me I'll die." he whispered hoarsely in her ear.
"No! Never! I'll never leave you!" she vowed furiously, clutching him tightly to her.
They stood like that, clinging to one another for dear life, for what seemed like and eternity. Christine eventually freed herself enough to draw up one hand and pull off the warm porcelain that covered the right side of his face.
"I'll never leave you." she whispered.
Ever so gently she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him, finally finding the thing that completed them both.
Papa, watch me fly!
Review or I'll tear your bloody limbs off! (has resorted to threatening author mode)