Title: A Generous Benefactor
Author: Simply Kelp
Pairing: none (but if you have an over-active, slashy imagination, you can interpret some ErikRaoul)
Main Characters: Erik, Raoul
Summary: The night after Don Juan, Erik loses something very close to him… Raoul tries to help. Can be interpreted slash, but not blatant if its not your thing.
Disclaimer: I wish Erik were mine, but sadly he, and all his buddies, are not…
A/N: Erik might be a bit OOC, but I kind of think he might react that way (at least my slashy brain would want him to...)
After the night of Don Juan Triumphant, Raoul had scoured the newspapers, and police reports, as well as badger any witnesses for the fate of the Phantom. He told himself that he was doing it for Christine, but it was a lie. She didn't act as if she cared whether the man lived, or died. It had been nearly a month, and she had not mentioned the Phantom, except to curse him as they left the underground lake.
From what he had found, the Phantom was still alive. He had not been in his home when the mob reached it. One of the mob did, however, brag about how he, and his friends had destroyed the monster's organ, and burned his compositions. There was something in this that caused a certain uneasiness in Raoul's mind. He felt that it was his fault the Phantom's home had been destroyed. Had he not arrived in Paris to visit his brother, he never would have met Christine, and the Phantom never would have had competition for her.
Raoul felt guilty. He had never been accustomed to the feeling, so each time it happened, it was most uncomfortable. Every time Christine smiled, or tried to kiss him, he felt a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He could barely look at her without thinking about the Phantom. What was he doing? He hadn't died the night of Don Juan Triumphant, but had he now died of despair- all his things destroyed? Raoul just had to do something.
Erik had, thankfully escaped the mob on that wretched night he lost Christine. Although when he returned to his home, he found it had been nearly demolished. His compositions were badly burned, in all there were a few fragments that had been spared. Many of his books, too, were burned, but fortunately he kept the irreplaceable books locked away.
The most disheartening of the damage, though had been his organ. He had had it for several decades, and it had travelled with him until they reached Paris. Now, the once magnificent instrument was reduced to a pile of firewood, and broken ivory. When he had seen this, Erik couldn't help but sob. The organ had been his sole companion for so long, he had almost imagined it an actual being.
Erik was not sure when he would replace it- indeed, he was not even sure he would. Perhaps it was a sign that he should take his eternal rest. That had been his plan upon completing Don Juan, but he hadn't done so. Perhaps it was a sign that he had disobeyed fate.
One day, nearly a month from the incident, after going out, Erik returned home to find the remains of his old friend gone. He was at first angry that someone had the audacity to come down to steal his possessions, until he realised that it had been replaced. A new organ was sitting in the place of the old. True it was nowhere near as fine as his, but it did look very promising. Who would do such a thing?
He sat down at the organ, and passed his fingers over the keys. The sound was reluctant at first, but improved as he reacquainted himself with playing. The music it produced was lovely. Whoever had sent it to him had very good tastes. But the question remained, who sent it? Erik did not think he knew anyone that would want to do so kind a thing for him.
As he continued playing, he noticed one of the stops looked different from the rest. Upon further inspection, he found a note wrapped around it. Perhaps the note would tell him who his generous benefactor was. Fingers slightly trembling, he opened the note, and read:
I thought you would be missing your music.
-Vicomte de Chagny
For the first time he could remember, Erik felt his lips quirk into a genuine smile. Maybe the old organ wasn't his only friend. He hoped that the young vicomte would return some time soon to see just how much Erik appreciated his gift.