A/N: Here I go, once again posting yet another story while my unfinished stories gather dust. *sighs* I am so sorry for those of you waiting for updates…my imagination is just not cooperating! Anyway…this story is a first for me, in that it is completely 100% based on a dream I've had several times. Due to it being a dream, there are times when someone might seem OOC or extremely over-the-top. Also, there were some times when the dream skipped around, and so I had to try to fill-in those spots. And you will definitely see when those spots come. I warn you, this story is going to seem weird, rushed, and jumpy, but I am trying to get as much of the dream in it as possible. Thank you for understanding! As always, I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters(although I've written enough of these that it certainly feels like it at times…)

Fighting back the remainder of his tears, he looked once more down the dark passageway behind him. Several days had passed since the mobs invasion into his lair, but even if they were gone by now, he had no intension of returning to those painful memories or the vast emptiness Christine had left behind. It was time to move on from the opera house that had been his home for twenty-five years. Perhaps he would find music elsewhere. Perhaps there was no music left.

His eyes well adjusted to the darkness, he found the ladder he had built long ago for this very purpose, long forgotten until now. As he climbed, he forced himself to think about a plan, rather than her. By the time he reached the trap door above him, however, the only plan he'd managed was to hide. But where?

Cursing his thoughts, he pushed up on the trap door, leading to an alleyway. Cautiously looking around before fully opening the door and climbing out, he immediately focused on a bit of a scuffle about ten or fifteen feet away from the crate he was lifting. Three men gave several kicks to what appeared to be a large sack of potatoes. As they moved around it, however, he saw the unmistakable head of long, brown hair. Christine… Fury boiled up inside him, and he flew out of the tunnel. He had no knowledge of what he did, exactly, but by the time the red before his eyes faded, the men had scattered, and he was holding a plank of wood in his hand, the far end of it spotted with blood. He turned around (Did I run past her?) to go back to her side, but someone had beaten him to it. Her hair was blond, very much like Meg Giry's, tied back in a loose, tangled bun. As Erik approached them, he could see that it was not Christine he had rescued, but a girl much smaller, yet a bit older. "She's not for sale!" Erik jumped ever so slightly and looked over at her companion, who was now glaring at him through fiery brown eyes. She clutched her friend's bruised head in her lap defensively, and Erik softened.

"I have no interest in buying her services." He stepped closer, but she clutched her friend tighter.

"She's not for free, either." Her back was straight, and even though she was deeply concerned for her friend's welfare, her eyes showed no sign of watering. Her face was painted with makeup, but he could still see signs of old scarring beneath it. She wore a pink dress full of frills and lace, but her matching high heeled shoes had been kicked off to the side.

"What's your name?" He knelt down so as to look less threatening, but the fire in her eyes did not dim.

"Cerise, if it matters. Look, if you're going to take someone, take me. Not her."

"I'm not going to take anyone, Cerise. I mean only to help, not harm." He met her gaze evenly, and he thought he saw her lower lip quiver ever so slightly. The fire dimmed then, leaving a trace of longing before she lowered her gaze to her friend.

"She was only with us for less than a year. I don't know where she came from, but he brought her in, made us train her. It was against the rules for this to happen…it wasn't like she meant for it to happen…but it did…I tried to help her hide it, but he found out…" It was only then that he noticed the girl's enlarged belly, and as Cerise gently caressed it, the girl's face twisted into a momentary grimace. "None of this was her fault, Monsieur. She knew nothing of this business when she came…that much was clear her first day. She didn't ask for this…she didn't want any of this…" Erik watched Cerise's eyes water ever so slightly, and he wondered if her words were about herself as well as her friend.

"What's her name?"

"Alyce." Erik gently took the victim in his arms, Cerise loosening her grip. He turned her over onto her back, immediately noticing deep red slashes across the left side of her face. "He did that so that no man would ever want to touch her again." Cerise explained angrily. Erik felt his own anger rise up again, but he kept it inside for Alyce's sake. Bruises and dirt covered the rest of her face and neck, and he knew there were more under her torn blue dress. Blood trickled onto the ground from between her legs, and he heard Cerise sniffle. "The only thing that gave her hope through all of this was the thought of holding her baby. 'I didn't ask for it,' she told me, 'but why should this baby suffer for what those men did?' She was so looking forward to its birth…but he would not have any offspring tracing back to him."

"Which one was he?"

"The one you clobbered. He'll be dead by morning." A slight smirk appeared on her face then, but disappeared. "The other's…they'll want revenge, or to at least make sure she is dead. You must take her away from here." Her eyes were pleading now, and Erik pondered as to where he could take her. Antoinette…she had helped him many times before…surely she would take compassion on Alyce. But where to find her? The opera house was abandoned. Perhaps…yes…she would have gone with Christine…after all, she had been Christine's adoptive mother. Raoul wouldn't have been so heartless to not open his family's estate doors to her. Vicomte or no Vicomte…Alye needed her.

"I know a place. You must come as well. I can tell that this is not the life you want." To this, she shook her head.

"I chose it, Monsieur. I'll stay here. Perhaps I might point them in the opposite direction." The fire returned with a brave smile, and he could only nod as he wrapped his cape around Alyce, lifting her into his arms.

"I'll return for you. I promise." He waited until her eyes acknowledged the truth in his voice, and then he hurried away.

He did not have to go all the way to the DeChagney estate. Raoul's carriage was parked in front of the managers' house the next block over. Pushing aside any and all bitterness toward the fools, he carried Alyce to the front door. She stirred a bit when he rang the doorbell, but before he could comfort her, the door swung open, revealing Antoinette herself standing before them. She wore an expression of complete shock on her face. "Erik…"

"Forget me, Antoinette. Forget everything I did. Help her." His old friend's gaze dropped to the girl in his arms.

"Bring her inside. Quickly. You are lucky that the men are in a meeting." Erik moved past her into the house, and in one swift movement, she was in front of him again. "Upstairs." Erik followed her up to the winding grand staircase and to the end of a long corridor. Antoinette pushed the door open, revealing a small bedroom, unused in quite some time, it appeared. At least the linens are clean, he noted as she pulled back the blanket. Erik laid Alyce down then, and as he straightened, he saw Antoinette glaring at him. He sighed.

"Antoinette, I know I owe you a thousand and one explanations, but there is something I must do first. I will return. Just take care of her. Please." The two friends stared each other down, but finally Antoinette sighed.

"Very well. Return quickly then." Erik barely nodded a response before he was on his way.

Cerise stared at the end of the alleyway where he had disappeared. She wondered about the mysterious man. Where had he gotten his scars? From where had he come? He'd appeared out of nowhere, fighting those men as if he'd known Alyce for a very long time. But he hadn't even known her name, and Cerise would have most certainly remembered his face had he been a previous customer. Nevertheless, the look of pain and concern in his eyes was still forefront in her mind. Part of her had wanted to go with him, there was no doubt about that. He was so different from all the other men she knew, and it wasn't just his face. His eyes held the same look of longing that she felt deep down inside her. It had made her realize that she was not alone…that she didn't have to be in this business to feel…accepted…loved…not alone. Even now, she wanted to get up and run after him, wherever he had gone. But as she heard familiar voices approaching, she knew it was too late. She stood up anyway, brushing the tears from her eyes. She did not know what she'd be fighting for. She knew she would most likely lose. She had chosen this life, as she had told him. But now, she was choosing something different. Something better. She was choosing to escape.

The alleyway was quiet. Far too quiet.

A/N: Hehe aren't I mean? Next chapter coming soon! In the meantime, please send some feedback my way! I really appreciate it!