Meg has been awake for what seems like hours. She's watched every last candle burn out until only one remains. Laying on her side, she watches the shy little flame as it dances around the wick.
It reminds her of being a little girl and learning how to do pirouettes, with Christine. She smiles at the thought. The memory makes her feel like the warm glow of the candle as it flickers against the ceiling. She basks in the glow a moment. It's not long before the flame takes its last breath and exhales a puff of smoke, turning the room black.
Meg's eyelids grow heavy, and she tries to settle into sleep, but the darkness only raises her awareness. The room seems bigger shrouded in darkness, more menacing. It's like staring into an abyss. Every little noise is more noticeable, too. She can hear every creak and click, even the slightest stir. She even starts to hear her own heart as it thumps in her chest, and her mind begins to race. She knows that she won't be falling asleep anytime soon.
Meg is still awake when, moments later, Christine sits bolt upright in bed. The blonde's eyes have adjusted to the dark room, but she can't make out more than an outline. She can tell it's Christine from the ragged breathing. She knows her friend's eyes would be wide with fear if she could see them.
The frightened girl lets out a choked sob and Meg's name comes with it. Little does Christine know, Meg has already thrown the covers off and is scurrying across the room to be at her side.
Christine's cry has also gotten some unwanted attention from the other ballerinas, who now stir in their beds. Some groan while others squeeze their pillows over their ears. Nightmares are not unheard of in the ballet dormitory, but Christine's have become a far-too-frequent occurrence since her encounter with the Phantom. This is her second one this week.
"I'm here," Meg soothes, like usual, kneeling by the side of the bed. Christine has that panicked look about her, the one Meg knows so well from being there through years of ballet rehearsals and singing auditions, and now these nightmares. "Don't be frightened. Nothing can hurt you now."
She reaches out to take Christine's hand and finds it clammy to the touch. She quickly hoists herself onto the bed to be closer to her friend.
"Oh, Christine," Meg winces, gingerly pressing a hand to the girl's cheek. A cold sweat. She offers her embrace and says, "Come here."
Without a second thought, Christine buries her face in Meg's hair, using it to dry her tears. Her soft whimpers become progressively louder and Meg can feel her trembling in terror as she holds her in her arms. She strokes her back lightly with her fingertips, and sometimes her hands venture into the territory of soft curls when they climb too high.
"I saw him, Meg! I saw him! He was there in my dream! Not even in sleep can I ever escape from him!" Christine cries suddenly, her whole body becoming wracked with sobs. Meg shushes her and cards her hands delicately through her hair as she brings her own chin to rest on the top of her curly brown head.
"How can I make it better?" Meg asks earnestly, and Christine groans. Meg thinks for a moment and says, "I have an idea. Why don't we go get a drink of water? Do you think you can manage that?"
Her friend's sobs reach a crescendo, then turn to light whimpers, and finally end with a heavy breath into her chest. Then the girl nods tentatively. The blonde lifts her chin and smiles into a kiss on her cheek.
Christine's lips curl into a watery smile behind Meg's back as she is taken by the hand and lead into the hallway.
In the soft light of the bathroom, Meg can better see Christine's tear-stained face, and she can feel her own heart breaking for her friend. Her poor Christine.
She wishes that she could take her pain away, that she could make the miserable man who so tortured her friend disappear, by just willing it to happen. But not only that; she wants him to pay. She wants him to hurt like he is hurting Christine. How could a man that used to fill her with such wonder now fill her with such dreadful thoughts? Before all of this, Meg wouldn't have hurt so much as a fly.
"Oh, my poor, sweet girl. Look at you." Meg brushes away fresh tears using the pad of her thumb and wipes already-fallen ones with the back of her hand. "You don't deserve any of this, really. I hope you know that. My sweet, brave girl."
She tucks a stray hair behind Christine's ear before filling up a cup of water. "Here."
Christine downs it all in one gulp. Meg gives her a look and they share a giggle. When Meg realizes all the noise they've made, she holds up a finger to shush them, and of course, they giggle some more, quieter this time. Suddenly, Christine throws her arms around Meg, enveloping her in a tight embrace. Meg is shocked at first but eases into the hug, slowly clasping her arms around Christine's waist.
"Better?" Meg asks when they let go.
"Better," Christine replies. Meg nods triumphantly and starts walking back towards the dormitory.
Christine follows, but stops walking mid-hallway and says, "Can I stay with you tonight?"
Meg decides this doesn't require a reply and simply leads them both to her bed, gesturing for Christine to get in. She does, and Meg follows, pulling the covers over them and at last they settle in for the night. Christine's hands are clasped around Meg's stomach and her forehead rests against the back of her shoulder.
Meg is about to drift off to sleep, but before she does leans over to kiss Christine's soft head. Christine sighs contentedly into blonde hair and Meg decides that she wants to protect her forever and that she will love her always.