A/N: Wlecome to yet another, Phantom fanfic. Now, the pair is Erik and Meg, because I think they would be cute 2gether. Disclaimer: I do not own, Erik aka The Phantom, Christine, Raoul, Meg, Madame Giry, or the story of The Phantom of the Opera

Chapter 1: A Way Out

Meg gazed down at the mask in her hands, the white porcelain glowing in the candlelight as she heard the mob in the lake.

"Girl!" one of the men called. "Where are you?!"

"In here!" she called back, and she took the mask with her as she ran from out of the room.

"Well, where is he?!" the man snarled down at her.

"I-I do not know," Meg replied, timidly. "He must have disappeared down another tunnel."

"Then we must find him!" one of the policeman called. "Surely there is a tunnel leading outside. We'll search the perimeter. Come men!"

The mob followed the policeman, but Meg searched through the cave from where she stood. If there was another secret passageway, they would probably find him quicker if they went through it. Meg trudged back up the steps and searched every room, the mask never leaving her grasp. She passed a heavy curtain that hung all the way to the floor, but thought nothing of it. She stood in front of the manikin of Christine and stared at it a moment.

He must have cared for her very much to go through all of this trouble just to be with her. Meg wished someone could love her the way the Phantom had loved Christine. Although, she might have done without a lot of the spooky, darkness that he was into.

Looking around she went into the bedroom with the swan bed again. Where was that secret passage?! She rushed out of the room and past the curtain again, but stopped short of passing it. She had felt a draft, a cold breeze from the edge of that curtain. She looked down and noticed shards of broken glass that had made up a mirror at one point then turned fully to the curtain.

"It was in plain sight, wasn't it?" she realized aloud then pulled the curtain away to reveal a dark passageway and a cool breeze grazed her face, whistling in her ears. She turned to see if anyone had stayed, but there was no one in the lair, so she turned back to face the tunnel. Taking a deep breath, she stepped through the threshold and allowed the curtain to drape down behind her.

She slowly made her way down the cold, damp and dark tunnel, her footsteps echoing with little slaps from stepping on puddles of water. She shivered and hugged the mask she still held close to her chest to rubs her arms for warmth. She couldn't see a thing! How would anyone find their way down this passage?! It was absurd!

"He's the Phantom, Meg," she told herself. "Of course he can find his way through a dark tunnel! He's been doing it for years!"

"My whole life, actually."

"Exactly--" She gasped when she realized he was there with her. She turned toward the sound of his voice, but saw nothing. "Where are you?!"

"I'll will ask the questions, Meg," he replied.

"You know my name?" she breathed.

"Of course," he replied, coolly. "You are Madame Giry's daughter, yes?"

"Y-Yes."

"Why did you lead the mob to my home?"

"They-They made me lead them here. There were so many of them. I was afraid they would hurt me to make me cooperate with them."

"And your mother knows you are here?"

"No. She told me to stay above."

"Where has the mob gone?"

"Outside, to look for you around the opera house."

"Why did you not go with them?"

"I thought, if you had disappeared, it would be faster to find you the way you left."

"Why did you follow me?"

Meg opened her mouth to reply, but found herself without an answer. That was a good question. Why had she followed him? She had no reason for being there. She had no reason to follow him. She had led the mob to kill him, so why would she follow him after they went searching for him outside? It made no sense even to her?

"Well?"

Meg jumped when she was jolted from her thoughts by his voice. She had to give him an answer, so she decided to go with the most logical one…

"I-I was curious," she replied, meekly.

"Curious?" he echoed.

"Yes."

"About what?"

"About…you, I suppose."

"You do not know?"

"Monsieur--"

She was cut off when they suddenly heard distant shouting from one end of the tunnel.

"Damn!" he hissed. "They found the exit! This way."

"I-I cannot see! Which way am I to go?"

He let out a growl of agitation and Meg suddenly felt a huge hand wrap around her small wrist and pull her down the tunnel the way she came.

"You say everyone left the cave?" he questioned again.

"Yes," she replied, stumbling behind him. She suddenly found herself back in the dim light of the lair, and in front of her was the Phantom, his back facing her, and still gripping her wrist. He dragged her across the cave, toward the room with the swan bed and he stopped at the small table next to it.

"My mask," he said, realizing it was no longer there. "Where--?" His question was cut short when he turned to Meg, who took an involuntary step back when he turned. In the short time she hadn't seen him without his mask she had forgotten what he had looked like. But now, instead of absolute dread and disgust, it was a small shock that he was not wearing it.

"Give it to me!" he hissed, holding his hand out for his mask when he saw her clutching it. She held it to him and he snatched it from her, placing it on his face. He looked around the room then approached the bed and moved it from the wall. There he revealed yet another passageway.

"Come along," he urged as he climbed in, but Meg stood still and frowned at him in confusion. He looked back at her as she simply stared at him and did not move and became even more irritated.

"Come along!" he growled, hoping to get her moving through rage. When she still did not move he sighed and climbed out to grip her wrist and pull her toward him. "Come on!" He shoved her into the passageway and climbed in after her then pulled the bed back by a handle on the frame.

"This way," he directed, beginning to crawl on his hands and knees. This tunnel was only small enough to crawl through.

"But, it is so dark," she shuddered. "I cannot see a thing!"

"Follow my voice," he urged then heard her beginning to crawl after him.

"Where are we going?" she asked, trying to keep him engaged in a conversation so as not to lose him.

"This tunnel leads to an exit close to your mother's house," he replied. "We must get you home so as not to worry your mother. She will surely send a search party for you if you are gone too long."

"How do you know what my mother will do?"

"I am no simpleton. And besides, I've known your mother for a long time."

"You have?"

"Yes. She brought me here to live when I was very young."

"She never told me."

"She did that to protect you. She wouldn't want her daughter fraternizing with The Opera Ghost, I'm sure."

"Why not?"

"Did you not pay attention to anything that has happened tonight?!" he snapped. "Besides, who would wish to associate with a monster like myself?"

"Monster?"

He froze, and when Meg heard him stop crawling she did the same. She was questioning the fact that he was a monster. She had seen his face, seen what he had done, and yet, she questioned his label for himself? Was this girl stupid or blind?!

"You doubt what I am?" he finally asked, still not moving.

"Murderer," she began. "Genius. Insane, perhaps, but I'm not sure you are a monster."

"And what makes you unsure?"

"You look like a man, not a monster."

"But, my face… Surely it is monstrous."

"Your face – it is not even your whole face!" Meg laughed. That sent his temper flaring.

"You think this is a laughing matter?!" he boomed, but she still laughed a bit.

"No, but I cannot understand how you can call yourself a monster when really, you are a man. I would think a monster would be an animal, incapable of feeling anything, including love."

He felt his heart clench at that word. Love. He had loved Christine and that had turned out disastrous. She had left him for another, and just the thought of it made him want to retreat into a dark room and sob for hours.

"We should keep moving," he said emotionlessly, needing to change the subject. "Your mother will be worried sick." He began crawling again and Meg started as well when she heard him move.

"Uh…Monsieur?" Meg called.

"Yes?" he replied, exasperated.

"May I--? May I ask…what is your real name?"

"Why?"

"Well, I would prefer calling you by your name instead of 'Monsieur' all the time."

"What makes you think we will be together after I return you home?"

"I am not assuming anything. I would just like to know what your name is so that I may call you by it."

"Erik," he finally replied.

"And you have no last name?" Meg wondered.

"If I do, it has left my memory," he replied.

"May I find a surname for you?"

"If you wish," Erik sighed. He stopped when he nearly fell forward, his hand landing on air in front of him.

"Finally!" he grinned.

"What is it?" Meg asked, stopping when he said that.

"We have reached the gap," he replied, and turned to slide down onto the stone floor a few feet below the small tunnels edge. "We can walk from here. The exit is only a few more meters away."

Meg carefully maneuvered to sit on the edge of the tunnel and Erik held his arms to her.

"Jump," he entreated.

"I still cannot see," she protested.

"I can see you," he assured her. "Just jump. I will catch you."

Meg took a deep breath and slid from the tunnel. She felt a pair of hands at her waist then the arms attached to them wrap around her to help her to the ground. Her hands instinctively landed on the arms of the hands as they uncoiled from around her waist.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice a bit raspy.

"Y-Yes," she nodded. "Thank you." Her face was on fire. Those strong arms under her touch had been wrapped around her waist for a mere moment, but that small moment was enough to make her blush at the thoughts running through her mind.

"Come," Erik's voice cracked, but he cleared his throat before speaking again. "We have no time to lose." He gripped her wrist again and led her down the tunnel.

She stumbled behind him as he took long strides through the darkness, and her mind was reeling. Why was it she had blushed over such a small thing? It couldn't have been embarrassment. Attraction? Possibly, but why? Why was she attracted to him? She didn't even know him, and for years she had feared him as the Opera Ghost, the Phantom of the Opera! What had she gotten herself into?

They suddenly rounded a corner and stopped. She looked around the dark and panicked when she felt his hand leave her wrist.

"Erik?!" she called, near tears. "Where are you?! Don't leave me!"

"I'm here, little one," he called, soothingly, to her surprise. He had heard the distress in her voice and had no doubt that she thought he had left her. There was a suddenly clanging noise, like metal on stone and Meg turned her gaze to it, though she still couldn't see.

"Erik?"

"We're under a manhole in the street," he explained. "Stay silent for a moment."

Meg did as she was told and heard more clanging then a small beam of light come in from above. Moonlight! She had to contain her squeal of delight and smiled instead. There was yet more clanging and the light disappeared.

"Alright," she heard Erik pant. "No one is in the street, so we can get out of here if we hurry. Give me your hand."

"I--"

"Reach out," he instructed, knowing she would say she couldn't see. She reached out and his hand grasped hers, sending a shock through her body. His hands were so warm, and strong, yet gentle as he pulled her toward him.

"There are a few steps," he reported, and Meg nearly stumbled as she tried to walk up them. His hand suddenly fled from her own and she gasped when his arm wrapped around her waist.

"There is only so much room on this step…" he said, as if to explain why he was invading her personal space. The clanging was heard again and the moonlight came back into the small room.

"Put your foot on my knee," Erik instructed, and Meg did as she was told. "Now, use my shoulders to push yourself up and out."

She did that was well, and before she knew it, she was in the street and sitting on the edge of the hole. She was ever so thankful that she was wearing trousers.

"Give me your hands," she whispered, seeing that he would need help to get out also, and holding her hands toward him. He grasped one of her hands and used the other to push himself up. He was so heavy, Meg had to use both her hands to tug on his one, and when he was finally out of the hole, his knee slipped on the wet stone and he fell forward…onto Meg.

Their eyes locked as they looked at each other for their reactions. They both realized that their faces were inches away from the other's and they could see their breath mingling in the cold night air.

"I-I'm sorry," he breathed, scrambling to stand and for a moment, Meg stayed where she was before sitting up. Erik helped her to her feet and they both looked around they street.

"This way," he instructed, turning to walk down the street. He stopped and held his hand to Meg who stared at it dumbly for a moment. She cautiously took his hand and he led her down the street to her home. Their trip was silent for several moments before Meg's curiosity broke through.

"Erik?"

"Yes, Meg?"

She swallowed before answering him. Her name sounded nice when he said it.

"What will you do now?" she wondered, timidly.

"I do not know," he admitted. "I should find a place to stay until I can figure out what it is I should do."

"If you'd like, you could stay with my mother and I," Meg offered. Erik stopped and turned to her with wide eyes.

"What?"

"You said you knew my mother," she reminded him. "I'm sure she will be happy to take you in."

"Take in a fugitive?" he asked skeptically. "I doubt she will want me in her home, Meg."

"What makes you so sure?"

The two jumped and looked to a door to see Antoinette Giry standing in the threshold of her home, her hands on her hips.

"Mother!" Meg gasped.

"Come in here, before someone sees you!" she urged, and the two ran into the house as Antoinette shut the door behind them then turned to Erik. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to come to my door."

"Your daughter was all the motivation I needed," he retorted, folding his arms across his broad chest. "She led the mob to my home."

Antoinette sent a glare to Meg who sent a look of disbelieving anger at Erik for ratting her out. When she looked back at her mother she shrunk back a bit.

"Mother, I'm sorry I disobeyed you, but I was afraid they would hurt me! They made me lead them there, and Christine--" A thought dawned on her mind when she said her friend's name and she looked at Erik with wide eyes.

"Where is Christine?!" she shouted, beginning to hit him, but her small hands had little affect on him. "What have you done with her?!"

"Meg--!"

"I have done nothing to her!" Erik growled and lifted his hands to grip her wrists. He forced her hands down and pulled her face close to his. "She left with Chagny!"

Meg stared up at him as he stared at her in anger, but she saw something else. He couldn't hide the hurt that came to his eyes when he said those words. She knew Raoul loved Christine as well, and she had seen the look in her friend's eyes when she had seen him during the rehearsal for Hannibal…She loved him in return. Meg felt a wave of guilt wash over her. How could she think that Erik would have hurt Christine, the woman he loved so deeply? He may have done horrible things to others, but he would never hurt Christine. He didn't seem like that kind of person at all.

"I'm sorry," she couldn't help but whisper. Erik's eyes went wide with shock, but he didn't let go of her wrists.

"What?" he asked, wondering if he'd heard right.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I-I should have known you wouldn't do anything to harm her."

Antoinette watched in evaluation as Erik's look of surprise turned to complete disbelief, and he let Meg's hands go. Something was happening, and she wasn't sure she liked it. If it was what she thought it was, she would have to keep a very close I on the both of them, but especially on Erik.

"Were you planning to stay the night, Erik?" she asked, wanting his attention on her at the moment and away from Meg. He looked up at her with the same wide eyed expression.

"What?" he asked.

"Are you planning to stay the night?" Antoinette repeated as Meg rubbed her wrists but kept her eyes on Erik.

"Oh, I-I wouldn't want to impose," he sputtered, completely lost, and still recovering from Meg's words.

"Nonsense," Antoinette replied. "You are more than welcome to stay here. I've sheltered you this long, I think I can keep you here another night." She turned to her daughter. "Meg, go prepare the guest room."

Meg stood still, staring at Erik, and still rubbing her wrists. Erik turned to her and their eyes locked for a moment. When the young girl didn't move, and Antoinette noticed the gazes they were sharing, she became a bit irritated.

"Meg!" she snapped, wanting her attention. She and Erik both jumped and turned their gaze to Antoinette. "Go prepare the guest room, if you please?"

"Oh," Meg breathed. "Yes, mother." She glanced once more at Erik then walked down the hall.

"And change out of that costume as well!" Antoinette called after her then she turned to Erik who met her gaze of disapproval.

"What?" he shrugged, wondering what he had done now.

"What have you done to my daughter?" Antoinette asked, folding her arms over her chest.

"I have done nothing!" Erik replied defensively. "Not one hair on her head was harmed! I got her away from the mob and here with you! Should I not get a 'thank you' for that?!"

"Thank you," Antoinette nodded. "Now, what did you do to her?"

"Nothing!"

"Then why was she looking at you the way she was, and you at her that way?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do not play games with me, Erik," Antoinette warned, holding a finger toward him. "I'll not let you do to Meg what you did to Christine!"

Erik glared at the older woman and felt his fists clench at his sides in rage.

"Must you throw it in my face, Giry?!" he snarled, but she was not afraid of his temper. "I know what I have done is terrible! Everything I have done, I am going to Hell for! What could I possibly gain from having it thrown in my face, over and over again?!"

"I warn you, Erik," Antoinette said in a low murmur. "You swore you wouldn't hurt my daughter when she became a dancer in the ballet corps. You had better not break your promise."

A/N: Well, how do ya like it so far? I think it's going pretty well, but that's just me. Reviews please!