The Things That Love Could Be

By Renton

Disclaimer: Gaston Leroux owns all recognizable characters and no copy right infringement is intended. Also I will mention Andrew Lloyd Webber too; no copyright infringement is intended there either. Also I will mention Susan Kay because her book inspired me the most to write this.

Summary: Erik had given up on love, but love seems to have not given up on him.

Dedication: To Jennifer, Lorraine and all the cool peeps at

Rating: PG-13

One

Eric would have given anything to hear music in the Opera house once again.

Ever since she had left, the Opera house had been left empty. Over the past two years the house that was once known for its glorious tapestries and a luxurious stage had been turned into ruin. Moths had eaten holes in the stage curtain, dust had blanketed the entire theater, it was almost painful to look at. No one dared enter the theater, over the past two years the story of the Phantom of the Opera had escalated to almost epic heights. There hadn't been a production in the theater since the night Christine had left. Eric began to believe that there would never be any life in the Opera house. It had become a haunted place, even the Phantom himself felt it.

Walking down in the catacombs Eric looked at his hands, they were filthy. He was filthy. There was no reason to take care of himself; because there was no one there to be with him. Eric spat at himself, who would want to be with a monster like me anyway? Eric thought. The world that he so desperately wanted to be a part of didn't want anything to do with him. He was seen as the monster, and they are right. Eric told himself. You've killed, you've tried to ruin others lives, you're a hideous sight to behold. Who on this earth would want anything to do with you? Eric sat down on his bed and looked around at his pathetic excuse for a home. It was no longer his sanctuary. It was his prison. Eric had to admit to himself, he was lonely. What he wouldn't give for some kind of human contact, if that opportunity came would he take it? Christine had left an emotional scar on the already fragile Eric. He had opened his heart to her, showed her into his world and she left him. No, he could not allow himself to be hurt like that again. He had to learn to carry on.

"I'm better off alone," Eric said aloud to himself as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Eric woke some hours later, he couldn't tell if it was night or day. Sitting up he rubbed his face and gasped when he felt that his mask was off his face. Looking around the bed he saw that it had fallen off his face while he slept. Picking up the white mask, he put it back on his face with a sigh of relief. It may have seemed foolish to someone else for him to continue wearing his mask but to Eric it was quite simple. He hated looking at himself. A pure white mask was a lot better looking than the horrific deformities that laid underneath it. His mask gave him comfort. It made him feel almost human. Even if the rest of the world saw it otherwise.

Standing up Eric walked over to his pipe organ, brushing the keys lightly with his fingertips. He couldn't remember the last time he had played it. Pulling his fingers off of the keys he saw the dust on the pads of his fingers. Closing his eyes, Eric turned away from the organ slowly, trying not to allow his anger to rise again. When he felt himself calm down he began walking down along one of the catacombs that went under the Opera house. This was how Eric spent his days now, exploring the catacombs under the city of Paris. Not that there was anything to discover, he just would walk until he got tired and turned back.

As he made his way down one of the catacombs, he heard a muffled noise, it sounded a lot like people. Slowing down his pace Eric stopped behind a corner and peaked around the corner to see what was going on. All he could make out was a figure laying face first in the dirty water and another figure running off into the darkness. Slowly approaching the form Eric quickly saw that it was a young woman, she couldn't have been older than thirty, thirty-five tops. Kneeling down next to her Eric rolled the woman over on her back and noticed that she had been beaten. An eye had swollen shut, her lip was busted and she had a gash on her right temple. Eric looked at her for a long time and the girl showed no signs of movement. Every bone in his body was screaming to leave her there, and allow the fates to choose what would happen to her. But then, Eric thought, what kind of man would I be if I allowed her to stay here and die? Kneeling down gently Eric picked up the woman easily and carried her back toward his home.

Two

Eric reached his lair and opened the room that had once been for Christine. Making sure as to not let the woman hit her head as they entered the room he turned sideways to go through the door. Walking over to the bed Eric gently laid the woman down on top of the covers; as he went to pull the covers back to pull them over her he was startled by something grabbing his wrist. Looking down to the woman he could see that her eyes were open, but he wasn't entirely sure that she wasn't still asleep. Kneeling down next to the bed he looked into the scared woman's eyes, "Madam you are safe, I won't hurt you." The woman's bright green eyes scanned Eric and then, nodding slightly, she closed her eyes once again. Eric took the covers and pulled them up around the woman to make sure she was warm. The woman buried herself deep into the covers, as if trying to will herself to disappear. Eric stood from the side of the bed and walked out of the room.

Clara woke up with a start. Her eyes shot around seeing if her assailant was still there, relief washed over her when she saw he was not. Her small hands ran across the surface of where she was sitting and instead of being met with hard rock she was welcomed with soft bed sheets. She was in a bed? How had she got there? That was when Clara remembered the voice that had told her she was safe. Standing from the bed Clara had to regain her balance as her head throbbed in pain. Observing the room Clara felt like she was in the middle of some fantasy story. There were candles everywhere in brass stands and fine but worn furniture sat next to a broken mirror. Walking over to the mirror Clara took measure of herself, "I've looked worse." Clara thought as she pulled a strand of her hair back behind her ear. Turning around to look at the other side of the room she saw that the room's door was open and she could catch a glint of light coming from whatever was on the other side. Walking slowly Clara opened the door with caution and stepped into the other room.

Her breath caught in her throat, it was absolutely breathtaking. Candles could be seen almost as far as the eye could see, lighting what was a cold, dark catacomb into a light, inviting place. Walking through the maze of candles, Clara caught glimpse of a desk with piles of drawings on top and pinned on the wall. Someone must live down here, but who? Clara then came upon a sight that she would never forget. A beautiful organ amongst the sea of candles, walking over to the musical instrument she ran her fingers lightly over the keys. Picking up her fingers she saw the dust that had now accumulated on the pads of her finger tips. Clara noticed unfinished music on the music stand that looked like it had not been touched in years. Then looking down to her left she saw a statue with a strange white mask placed on it. As her hand reached out for the mask a dark, but entrancing voice came from behind her.

"I see you're awake."

Clara spun around to have her hazel eyes meet another pair of eyes. Taking a instinctive step back Clara said, "who are you?" The man just gave her a look and Clara realized who he was, "you're...you're the one who saved me from the catacombs." He nodded and walked behind the organ and Clara began to realize that this conversation was going no where fast so she decided to stay quiet. The man was an imposing figure, tall and lean, he had coal black hair that had been combed back and he wore on his face a white mask that covered half of his face. Clara didn't know whether or not she should fear or love the man. There was a deep sense of mystery that surrounded the man, and it was fascinating Clara to no end.

The girl was quite breathtaking, Erik noticed as he watched her. Her hair was a light brown earth tone and was highlighted by the frequent flicker of the candles that surrounded her; it cascaded down her back like ermine. Her eyes were a brilliant green, and flashed at him when she made eye contact with him for the first time. She was probably a head shorter than himself, but her defensive posture made her seem twice her size. Her clothes were worn so Erik guessed she was more than likely poor. Walking over to her Erik said to her once again, "you are free to go when you are ready. I am not going to hurt you." She nodded and swayed as she tried to take a step, showing that the blow she had received to her head was still affecting her. Catching her by the arms Erik gently guided her over to a chair and sat her down. "You have a concussion," Erik said taking a pitcher from the table that was next to the chair and filled a small cup with water and handed it to her. "Drink this, you're probably dehydrated." The girl took it without question and drank it thirstily. Pulling a vial out of his jacket he handed the vial to her, "here, this will help with your head."

She took the vial from his hand and her fingers brushed against his. Nodding, Erik stood up to let her rest. He was stopped short however when he felt her grab his hand, "wait."

Erik turned around and looked down at her, "yes? What is it?"

"I didn't get your name sir," She said softly, "I would like to know the name of the man who saved me."

"Erik." He told her, pulling a blanket around her.

Squeezing his hand the woman smiled at him fondly. "I'm Clara." Erik nodded at her and she quickly fell asleep. Pulling his hand out of hers Erik found a smile trying to tug at the corners of his lips.

"Clara," he said softly. Blowing out the candles around her, walking across the room Erik sat down in a chair and patiently waited for Clara to wake again.

Three

Erik found himself watching Clara as she slept for a long time. It had been so long since he had human contact, he found himself fascinated by the sleeping form on the chair next to him. The way the candlelight seemed to dance across her skin, it gave her an angelic glow. Turning in her sleep made a lock of her hair fall into her face, Erik stood quietly and walked over to her. Watching her for a moment Erik gently took the piece of hair with a gloved hand and put it back behind her ear. Making sure she did not stir Erik went back to his chair and continued to watch her sleep. It had startled him when she asked for her name. He could not remember the last time someone had. Erik had been so accustomed to being seen as a monster; whenever someone showed him the slightest bit of humanity it threw him off guard. So when Clara asked him his name at first he didn't know what to say, or even what to do. But Erik knew not to get his hopes up for anything to come of this. She would leave as everyone else did. Erik had realized at a young age that no woman would ever look to him with love. Yawning wildly Erik looked at a small clock next to him on a table, it was very late. Pulling his cloak around him Erik felt his eyes begin to droop, leaning his head against the chair he slowly but surely fell asleep.

As Clara opened her eyes she saw that Erik was asleep in a chair next to her. Sitting up Clara stretched her arms and looked over to Erik once more. It puzzled her that he would hide his face from her. Erik did save her life, wouldn't he want her to know what her hero looked like? Also, why would anyone live in the catacombs of Paris? Maybe he's poor like you,she thought to herself, maybe he has no one to turn to.Clara wondered what had brought him to live this way, isolated, alone. He may have thought he had hid his reaction to her; but Clara saw how he was effected by her asking for his name last night. It wasn't a look like she had crossed a line, it was a look of surprise; as if he hadn't expected her to want to know his name. She had felt his presence all night, he had watched her for a long time. She had woken up momentarily when he had came over to move the hair out of her eyes. Not since her family did someone care for her as much as he did last night. She wanted to give him something in return for the kindness that he had shown her. As she stood up from her chair she turned around to fold the blanket he had put on her after she fell asleep, Clara began to hum softly to herself. Laying the blanket in the chair's seat, Clara turned and was surprised when she was met eye to eye with Erik. "I..." She stammered quickly, "I'm sorry I didn't know you were awake. Or did I wake you?"

"I had been awake for sometime," he said to her softly. Walking past her he picked up her blanket, smoothing it out in his hands he asked, "are you feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you." Clara answered him. "I don't know how I am ever going to repay you for what you did for me sir..."

"Please, just call me Erik." Erik interrupted her quickly. "You don't have to be formal on my account." Clara blushed quickly and hid her face from him. Confused by this Erik cleared his throat, "so I'll take you up to the street if you are ready to leave."

"But, can't I do something for you? You've done so much for me."

"Picking you out of the water wasn't a lot to do on my part." Erik said jokingly, "so this payback you say you owe me is really not necessary." Erik saw Clara frown and she looked down, wringing her hands together as if she was nervous to speak something that was on her mind. "What's wrong? Do you not have a home to go to?" Clara's face shot up and Erik noticed tears streaming down her face. Startled by this Erik went to step toward her and she took a step away from him and sat down on the chair she had slept on part of the night. "I'm sorry Clara, I..."

"They took it from me." She said softly as he knelt down next to her.

"Pardon?" Erik asked as Clara turned her head away from him. Was it disgust of him or was she ashamed to look at him? He couldn't tell.

"The man who drug me into the catacombs worked for my landlord." Clara explained softly, "I, I lost my job in the Paris Symphony Orchestra about two months ago and so I haven't been able to pay rent. The landlord had hired that man to threaten me. He told me about a week ago I had five days to come up with the back rent or if I didn't I'd loose everything. Including my life." Erik looked at her dumbfounded, how could anyone be so cruel to someone? "I came home from looking for a job yesterday and they had taken everything," Clara teared up more and added, "including my cello." Clara took Erik's hands suddenly and it startled him, "I don't have much I can offer you Erik. But I was...I was..." shaking her head fiercely she let go of his hands. "No, I can't ask it of you." Clara said as she stood, "this isn't your problem to deal with. I'm sorry for being an intrusion." Clara went to leave and Erik was dumbfounded by the way she abruptly decided to leave.

"W...wait." Erik said catching up with her, "you don't have to leave." Clara looked at Erik sadly.

"I barely know you Erik," Clara told him, "and you hardly know me. Why would you let me stay with you?"

Erik looked at the ground and said, "because I know what it is like to loose everything." Looking up to Clara he added, "all I ask of you Clara is...is..."

"Yes?"

Turning his head away from her shyly he said, "don't ever be afraid of me. Know that I won't hurt you and as long as you are here with me you are safe."

"But what about rent?" Clara asked, "I don'..."

"Clara, I live in the catacombs under the old opera house." Erik said with a small smile on his face, "what would I do with rent?" Clara smiled at him and then did something Erik did not expect, she walked up to him slowly and gave him a small kiss on his cheek. Quickly pulling away from her Erik looked utterly stunned by her action.

"Thank you Erik." Clara smiled as she walked past him back into his home. Erik stood there still with the stunned expression on his face. Touching his cheek where she had kissed him he felt a tear fall down his cheek, Clara wasn't appalled by him at all. Following her Erik began to wonder where this strange turn of fate was going to take him.

Four

Clara, Erik came to find out, was as quiet as he was. The first few nights she was there, one would've thought that he still lived alone. Erik wondered if she was just quiet by nature. Sitting at his desk Erik pulled out a piece of paper and began to sketch a building to get his mind off of Clara. He became so engrossed into his drawing he had failed to notice that Clara had come out of her room. As he continued to draw Clara came up next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Erik felt the hand grasp his shoulder and he reached up and took the hand into his, the fingers intertwined with his and he felt this inexplicable warmth run through his body. As he continued to draw he felt warm breath whisper into his ear, "what are you drawing?"

Erik's eyes shot open and he turned around to see that it was Clara that was holding his hand. She smiled at him and let go of his hand, "I was," Erik looked down to his drawing and to his horror he realized that he hadn't been drawing a building at all...

He had drawn her. It was in painstaking detail too, down to her birthmark on her left cheek near her nose. Turning it over before she could see he came up with a quick lie "I was just sketching, nothing else." Erik looked at the clock on his desk and looked back up to her, "are you hungry at all?"

Erik prepared a meal as Clara sat and watched him cook. The candles of the room illuminated him as he worked; Erik worked with the greatest of the ease pouring the different ingredients into the pot. Clara watched how his face concentrating, his hair which was usually slicked back fell in front of his eyes. From the candle light around him the shadow of his body came through his white shirt. Smirking Clara rested her chin on hand and said, "is there anything you can't do Erik?"

"No." Erik said flatly, Clara if it had been anyone else besides him would've taken it as an ego. But Clara honestly believed that there wasn't anything beyond Erik's ability. From what she has seen him do in the week that she has lived with him Clara knew that he was a genius. Erik looked back at her and asked, "what are your talents?" Clara smirked at him and smiled, "aside from getting into financial trouble?"

"I play the Cello," Clara said, "that's about it for my talents."

"That can't be it," Erik said pouring the food into a plate, "you're holding back something." Walking over to her he handed her a plate, "tell me about yourself." Smiling Clara took the plate of food he offered her and put it in her lap as she pulled her hair back behind her.

"What is there to know about me?" Clara asked. "I was raised in Paris, the only child. My father, though I know he never said this out right, had wished me to be a boy. That is why I think he taught me the cello. Because he really didn't know what else that he could pass on to me."

"So your father was a musician?" Erik asked as Clara nodded in reply as she swallowed her food. "What of your mother?"

"A seamstress." Clara told him as she continued to tell her story. "She died when I was nine and my father raised me alone." Shaking her head sadly she added, "I don't think he was ever the same after her death." Erik nodded, although he never knew his father and his relationship was less than stellar with his mother, he could still sympathize with the loss of a parent. "I helped my father in any way I could. When I was younger I was even a matchstick girl," laughing Clara took a sip of wine that Erik had poured for her, "in my foolish belief that it would help my family."

"What could you have done?" Erik asked her, "You were a child and were doing what you thought to be the right thing."

"My father," Clara continued, "what little money he could spare, he saved to send me to school." Clara felt tears trying to come, "my last year at school I received a letter that he had tried to take his own life. A gun to the heart, but he had missed his heart. So I was sent home and," Clara's tears began to fall down her cheeks freely, "he had died the day before." Clara turned her head away from Erik and tried to bring her tears under control but it wasn't happening. Why had she told Erik that? She never talked about her past for this reason.

Erik looked at Clara with a complete loss of words of what to say or do. But all he knew is the pain he was in from watching Clara cry. Setting down his food he nervously scooted next to Clara and took her plate out of her hands. Looking at her all Erik could hear was mumbling and an occasional "I'm sorry, I'm usually not this way." Putting a hand on her back Erik rubbed her in a soothing manner and Clara turned to him with puffy eyes. As if on cue Erik wrapped his arms around her and she dug her face into the warmth of his jacket. Rocking her back and forth Erik allowed her to cry. Erik began humming softly while holding Clara rested on his chest, rubbing her back he felt her sobs begin to fade as he continued singing to her. Erik put his nose in Clara's hair and picked up an intoxicating smell of lavender. Resting his head on hers he wrapped his arms a bit tighter as if he were to let go of her, he'd loose her forever. After awhile Erik wondered if she was still awake, "Clara?" He whispered, and in return he was a soft snore. Leaning forward gently Erik laid Clara down on the chair and stood to pick her up. Erik picked Clara up and made his way to her bedroom, as he laid her on her bed.

"Erik?" Looking down he saw Clara was half-awake. Pulling back from her Erik knelt down by the side of the bed.

"Yes?" Clara took his hand and asked.

"What about your story?" Clara yawned and her eyes fell a bit more; smiling Erik put her hand back on her side.

"That's a story for another day." Erik said as she nodded. "Good night," As Erik began to walk out of the room he heard her say, "wait." Turning Erik saw Clara sitting up in bed, "yes?"

"Will you stay with me?" Clara asked in an almost whisper, "I...I just hate being alone. I've been alone so much I think there is no escaping it." Erik turned back to the door for a moment and shut it once again. Walking over to the side of the bed he sat down and pulled his shoes off, looking back at her Clara smiled at him and wiped her eyes again. Turning back to his side, Erik unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, placing it on the night stand. Pulling the covers back Erik climbed into the bed with her, he laid near the edge of the bed and closed his eyes. Clara rolled over and put her arm across his mid section, Erik's eyes shot open as he felt the warmth of her body touch his. Erik tensed for a moment as Clara settled down next to him. Whispering into his ear Clara said "thank you Erik." Erik felt his body relax and he put his arm around her as they both fell asleep. Kissing the top of her head Erik said, "you're welcome."

Five

Clara hadn't known were Erik had gone to the next day but she had awakened the following morning alone. Sitting up in the bed Clara felt a cold draft come through the room and a thin layer of goose-bumps came across her skin. Pulling the comforter over her shoulders Clara climbed out of the bed and a shock of cold went through her as the bare feet touched the ground. The candles that surrounded the room gave off a warm glow that knocked off the cold and filled Clara with a warmth that went right to her core. Stepping out of the bedroom she looked around the rest of the cave, "Erik?" Clara called out and received no answer. Looking across the candle lit cave Clara noticed a small grey form on Erik's desk, stepping down the stairs Clara made her way to the desk, her curiosity fueling her way. Walking past the Organ, Clara began to see the grey form take shape and as soon as she saw it her breath hitched in her throat.

It was a small stuffed monkey that had seen better years. Made out of grey and white material, the monkey had button eyes and a nose made out of black thread and the stitching around the edges of the animal were fraying. In the hands of the monkey two tiny cymbals laid in each hand. Turning the monkey over Clara ran her fingers down its backside until the pads of her fingers ran over stitching by the monkey's tail; her eyes widened as she saw the initials A.C. "Adeline Cormier," Clara whispered, feeling her eyes fill up with tears and she covered her mouth to suppress the sob that tried to escape from her mouth. Everything began to fall in place, now she knew why she knew so much detail of a child's toy...

Because the monkey had once been hers. Adeline Cormier, her mother, had made the toy for her.

When Clara was a child, a traveling faire came to Paris, Gypsies. Clara wanted to go but her father was hesitant about allowing her daughter see some of the horrors that could be found at these fairs. But Clara had her way and her father took her to the faire. Clara could still smell the stench of the trash as she walked through the different exhibits, the Bearded Lady, the Elastic Man, but one part of the faire had always stuck in her mind. Clara could still see the tattered black tent with a banner with writing that looked like blood that said "The Devil's Child," Clara instinctively clutched onto her father's arm. "Princess, do you not want to go in?" Her father had asked his trembling child. But Clara wanted to see the fair so she said she wanted to see inside. Walking down into the tent the first thing Clara noticed was a cage in the middle of the tent, clutching her toy monkey to her chest she walked towards it. As she came up to the cage she saw a little boy at the opposite side of the cage with a bag over his head. Clara thought that he couldn't have been too much older than herself, he looked very thin and he had several bruises on him. As more people came into the tent an ugly, crude looking man went into the cage with the little boy. The man pulled out a whip and began to beat the boy until he crawled on his hands and knees to the center of the cage. Pulling the boy's bag off his head a unison sound of gasps and screams came from the crowd as they saw the boy's deformed face. After the initial shock people began to laugh and throw things at the young boy; he tried to look to the ground but the man wouldn't let him. Finally he let the boy go and the boy scrambled back to the other side of the cage and put his bag back over his head.

But during that entire time, neither Clara or her father had made a sound.. Clara had asked her father, "Papa? Why do they do that to him?"

"Because they are awful people, that poor child." Clara's father put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Come on Clara," Clara stepped away from her father and went up to the cage when the cruel man left the boy in the cage alone. Kneeling down on the ground Clara put her small hands on the cage and called out to the little boy. The boy's head turned as he heard Clara call out to him.

"Hi," Clara said to the boy who was now looking at her. "My names Clara, what's your name?"

"E...Erik."

"NOOOO!" Clara jumped out of her seat when she heard Erik screaming at her. Startled, Clara dropped the monkey and Erik cleared a path to catch the toy before it hit the ground, the sound of breaking class echoed in the cave as he knocked over one of his tables to get to her in time. The once warm and inviting room had turned into a cold place; Erik's outburst had frightened Clara, she had seen what this man could be capable of. "How DARE you go through my things!" Erik yelled at her, Clara stumbled back and fell into the desk chair. Clara's eyes widened in fear as tears fell down her face, would he hit her? She thought she'd be used to abuse from her other boyfriends; but she never thought Erik who had been so kind to her would strike her.

"E..Erik I'm so..sorry!" Clara sobbed out as she kept her eyes away from his, not knowing if it would just anger him further if she looked at him. Sobbing more Clara stammered out, "Fo...forgive me I...I didn't mean to intrude I.." Clara looked up to him with her green eyes that were highlighted with red from her sudden burst of tears. She shut them tightly and wiped them with the back of her hand. Her golden hair fell in front of her eyes as she looked down to the ground, her hair acted as a curtain to protect her from Erik's relentless stare. Clara thought that he would beat her, his ragged breathing and stance indicated to her that it was all he could do not to lash out at her.

But that wasn't the case at all, Erik's anger had began to subside as he clutched his precious token to his chest. He had became so absorbed by the monkey he failed to notice the frightened girl in front of him. How could she understand what this toy meant to him anyway? He remembered it was a gift from when he was in the Gypsy side-show; it was the first present that Erik had ever received. All he could remember was a man telling him that not everyone was evil, that there was love and kindness and that it would greet him one day. Looking up from his toy Erik felt the color draw out of his face as he looked at Clara, his light and his hope, shivering before him like a kicked puppy. Erik could feel the vomit trying to come up his throat, he had failed her, he had broken his promise. Erik had vowed that he would never hurt her and that as long as she lived with him she would be safe. But from this childish and petty act Erik had shattered her trust in him.

Setting the monkey down on the desk Erik knelt down in front of Clara and tried to take one of her hands into his. But as soon as Erik touched her, Clara jumped away from him with a look of both confusion and terror. Erik had seen the look in her eyes so many times before, Clara wanted to run. Closing his eyes Erik stood and turned his back to Clara; she had every right to want to leave and to see her in the state that she was in, Erik was not about to fight her though he could feel his heart ripping to pieces.

"You...you were the...the devil's child." Clara sobbed out standing from her chair slowly. "I saw you...I...I saw your face. When...when I saw you I hated how the other...others la..laughed at you. How that awful man hit you." Erik's posture went from defensive to one of confusion, turning around he looked at Clara. As he locked eyes with Clara he got a sudden flash of a little blonde girl, that for so many years he dreamt of, the angel that had been amongst the devils, the one person that had extended a hand to him in friendship and kindness. "What I saw in that cage was not a monster, but a boy that couldn't have been much more older than myself. Frightened and alone," Clara looked at the monkey and picked it up, gently caressing it as she spoke. "I thought what could I do for him? And I thought that I could give him the one thing that had always given me comfort." Taking one of his hands he placed the monkey in his hand and showed him the two initials on the back of it, "Adeline Cormier, my mother, had made it for me before she...before she died." Clara still sobbed but her tears had finally begun to subside, but her breath still hitched in the back of her throat occasionally. "I couldn't free the boy, but I could give him comfort, I could at least give him that."

Erik felt the tears streaming down his face as Clara told him. It was almost impossible to think this beautiful woman was the same girl that had filled his dark life with light decades before. Pulling off his black leather gloves, Erik took two steps to bridge the gap between himself and Clara. This time, Clara did not flinch or shy away from him; reaching up with both his hands he cupped Clara's face within his hands. Taking his thumbs Erik wiped at the tracks of tears that were still spilling from her eyes. Clara brought up one of her hands and grabbed his hands with hers; though the contact between the two the room had began to go back to its normal warmth. Opening her arms, Clara wrapped them around Erik's body and dug her face into the front of his suit. Breathing in, Clara's senses were assaulted by the scent of musk and warm spices. "Forgive me Clara, forgive me for hurting you as I did." Clara looked up into Erik's pleading eyes; as she looked into Erik's eyes Clara could see into the depths of his soul. And saw that in many ways, Erik was still the scared little boy she had met long ago. Reaching up Clara placed her hand across his mask. "Clara, please."

"I've seen you Erik, I'm not afraid." Taking her hand Erik pressed a kiss inside her palm and placed in on his chest; rubbing the hand with both of his he looked at Clara for a long time. "You are no monster."

"Clara, you mean more to me than you will ever know. But, I want to show you my face in my own time. I didn't get to choose to show you my face." Clara nodded and Erik smiled at her, sending tendrils of his warmth through her. "Do you forgive me?" Clara wrapped her arms around Erik's neck and pulled him down to her height level, and that is when she kissed him. Clara felt Erik try to pull away from her but she only kissed him harder, Erik wrapped his arms around her and the two fell into a loving embrace. Pulling away Clara whispered softly into Erik's ear, sending waves of desire through his body.

"I love you Erik. How could I not forgive you?" Erik pulled her against him once more and hugged her tightly, running one of his hands through her hair. For the first time in his life Erik felt wanted, and as he held her in his arms he whispered, almost growled in her ear.

"I love you too."

Six

Clara awakened to the haunting sound of organ music floating into the room. Reaching out to her side Clara felt that Erik was no longer with her. Clara remembered that during the night that there had been a strange noise that frightened her and Erik pulled her close to him and quickly made her fears subside as he sang to her softly. She fell back to sleep in the arms of the man that was able to bring her a level of comfort she had never felt before. She would be the first one to admit that when it came to men she had a knack of falling for a man that would rather beat her than love her. Erik, however. was nothing like the others, he had a genuine concern for her well being and talked to her as an equal and not just a silly little girl. Before they had both fallen asleep last night he talked to her in considerable length of various composers, exchanging what their favorite Arias were from operas they had seen, life in general really. Clara had even spoke openly of her father, which she hadn't been able to do for a long time without having tears come to her eyes. Erik had become an constant presence in her life, and Clara was beginning to understand that she needed him as much as he needed her. Pulling the blanket up around her shift, Clara climbed out of the bed and walked out to the main room. Music filled her soul with such warmth and ecstasy, Clara didn't know if she were awake or still asleep. Looking across the lake, Clara saw Erik at the organ. Smiling to herself she realized that this was the first time he had played since she had been there. Pulling up at the hem of her shift Clara walked up the steps and stood behind Erik as he marked a few notes on a blank music sheet before him. Looking back from his seat he saw her standing there and in a very deep voice said, "good morning."

Clara smiled at him as he held a hand out to her, he looked angelic sitting at his organ with the candles around him illuminating the deep green sparkle of his eyes.

Erik scooted to one side of the organ's bench and beckoned Clara, "sit by me," there was a gentle smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He watched as she dropped the blanket and walked over to his side, allowing his hand to gently guide her. As Clara sat down on the bench Erik pulled her hand to his mouth for a gentle kiss and asked before letting her go, "did you sleep well?" Erik noticed that Clara became very flushed when he asked her that. Smiling to himself he ran a hand across his chin and said, "well?"

"Yes, very well." Clara said in a whisper, she turned away shyly to hide her rosy cheeks. Her family used to tease her, calling her "rosy" whenever she'd get embarrassed she would flush in nothing flat. Then Erik did something that Clara had never heard him do before, he laughed. It was the most beautiful sound Clara had ever heard! It was as if Erik's own laughter was music on it's own. Clara turned back to him and arched an eyebrow, trying to hold in her own laughter, Erik gave her a confused look and she let out a small laugh, "it's okay Erik I just haven't heard you laugh before. You should do it more often."

"I laugh when there is a reason to," Erik said and turned back to his music and a peaceful silence fell over them both. It was the first time that Erik didn't feel distracted with the presence of another person while composing music. Erik had begun to thrive with Clara by his side and Erik began to wonder how he had ever written anything alone. As he continued to write Erik almost let out an audible gasp as he felt Clara place a warm hand on his leg. He looked out of the corner of his eye and saw Clara watching him intently as he worked on his music.

Erik's fingers paused and Clara looked to his face, and saw that she was being watched. Instinctively, she retracted her hand and lowered her eyes to the ground.

Caressing her chin Erik tilted up her face towards his and whispered, "Don't ever look away from me." Erik smiled and found her discomfort charming. If she only knew what he had been thinking throughout the night as he held her, her face would have been as red as the Red Death from discomfort.

Clara rewarded Erik with a smile and he ran one of his thumbs across her lower lip. Feeling that deep desire she always did when he touched her like that, Clara didn't know whether or not to embrace the moment or pull away. She wanted to be with Erik, she had begun to realize that. All Clara wanted to do was to take him away from his darkness and build a world that they could live in together, away from his horrific past. But over the years Clara had developed a natural distrust when it came to men; even men that only meant to do good for her. Clara had felt the pain of heartbreak too many times, she didn't want her relationship with Erik to end up like the others. But then Clara thought how could a relationship not work with Erik if she wasn't even willing to allow it to happen.

Erik felt his heart pounding in his chest as he kept his thumb next to the corner of her mouth. He couldn't believe this was happening, for so long he dreamt of the day that he could touch another and not have them coil back in disgust. He wanted so bad to take her into his room and make love to her, to hold her, for her to hold him in return. Though Erik knew that he could never be "normal," but his dream was to be able to have the things like any other man did. The night before while he held her as she slept Erik felt peace for the first time in a long time. Not even Christine would allow him to touch her, Clara on the other hand seemed to encourage his touches. If he could only make the leap needed to bring this relationship to the next level. Erik leaned forward and stopped an inch from her mouth, Clara curled in her bottom lip and licked it instinctively. Erik leaned forward and kissed her gently, closing his eyes he reached up and placed a hand on the back of her neck. Pulling back Erik rested his forehead against hers, he whispered to her, "that felt...wonderful."

Clara smiled as Erik turned to continue working on his music. Erik looked like a bashful school boy, flushed and not able to look at Clara without blushing more. "So what inspired you to write again?"

Putting his hands in his lap Erik said, "it's been so long since I've written music. I couldn't even bring myself to play," Erik looked at the keys sadly, "it just brought back too many memories."

"Was it because of the girl you told me about? Christine?" Erik nodded and she didn't ask further. Clara didn't know all the details of what happened between her and Erik. But Clara saw the sadness in Erik's face and felt a surge of rage when she thought of Christine. She hoped that she never crossed that woman's path. Erik nodded and grabbed one of Clara's hands, squeezing it gently.

"You were my inspiration to write again Clara." Erik looked down to her hand and put his other hand on top of both of theirs. Erik looked up at Clara and he saw that her green eyes were filled to brim with tears, smiling at him brightly.

Smirking Erik let go of her hands and jumped up from his seat and pulled her up as well, "I have something for you." Pulling her away from the organ he leaned in close to her ear "It's a secret though," his deep voice rumbled within her, "close your eyes." Clara closed her eyes and Erik guided her to the other side of the organ and stood behind her. "Open your beautiful eyes," he said softly, and she could feel the warmth of his breath all the way to her toes.

Clara opened her eyes and saw a large object covered in a white sheet, looking back at Erik she raised an eyebrow curiously.

Nudging Clara forward Erik grinned at her, "go ahead, open it."

Clara slightly trembled as cold, slick rock met her footsteps and her heart pounded in time to a kettle drum in concert. Clara pulled back the sheet to reveal the treasure that laid underneath and fell to her knees sobbing.

It was her father's cello.

Reaching out with a shaking hand Clara traced a line down one of the cello's edges. It was still in supreme condition for being as old as it was. To make sure she wasn't in some dream Clara turned the cello around and saw the angel that her father had put on before he passed the cello onto her. Covering her mouth she looked up to Erik and shook her head in disbelief, "how? When?"

Erik sat down next to her and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her cheek and felt her body tremble from emotion as she thanked him in broken sobs for the cello. He stroked her hair, tucking her hair behind her ear he explained, "the day you discovered the stuffed monkey. I had an old friend track down your landlord and gave him an offer in return of your possessions..."

"You mean..." Clara asked astounded, turning to notice her trunk sitting by his desk, "but how?"

"I paid him for it." Erik explained, "I had my friend say I was interested in anything he had and that is what he offered me." Touching the cello Erik added, "I know how much music means to me. I know how it can bring light into the darkest of times." Turning Clara's head to face him, Erik told her, "I want you to play for me. I want to hear your gift." Kissing her soft hair, Erik stood up and helped Clara to her feet. Erik pulled a chair out for her and Clara sat down and he handed her the cello.

Clara looked up to him and asked, "what do you want to hear?"

Erik sat across from her on the organ bench and told her, "you."

Clara closed her eyes and began to play the first thing that came to her head, a suite by Bach her father had taught her. She felt so alive as she played, she felt as if she was being reunited with a lost friend. She allowed the notes to take her away, there was only her and the music, nothing else mattered. All the pain and sorrow in her life disapeared and the music soothed her as a mother would soothe a crying child. It brought her back to a time in her youth when she truly felt joy.

Erik watched Clara play and was taken aback by how good she was. Not that Erik ever doubted her talent, but he hardly saw anyone perform as passionately as she did. Clara's entire form became one with the cello, her golden hair fell in her face as she continued the suite. Erik could feel himself being taken away by the music, feeling the sheer ecstasy that he was certain Clara felt. As Clara continued to play, blissfully unaware of her surroundings, Erik rose from his seat and stood behind her and observed her every move. Leaning down Erik placed his mouth in the crook of her neck and kissed her soft skin gently. As he continued to make his way up Clara's neck a surge of excitement ran through Erik. His one dream was coming true right before his eyes. It felt so good, so good to be able to touch her and have her not coil back in revulsion. Erik for so long believed his last hope was Christine, that she would be the key to his redemption. But now as he stood there with Clara, he knew that Christine was never meant to be his. That his love, his soul mate, was that little girl that had reached out to him so many years ago. Now that little girl had come to him again, grown and more breathtaking than ever before. Erik's kisses had become more passionate as he reached Clara's face, taking one of his hands Erik turned her head to face him he paused for only a moment. His body trembled in fear and desire, this was indeed a moment of truth; leaning into her Erik kissed her with all the passion and love that he had within him for her. Erik had become so absorbed in loving her that he didn't notice that the music had stopped and Clara was now kissing him back, with as much passion and power. Pulling away briefly Erik opened his eyes and looked at Clara, to his great surprise and delight was smiling brightly up at him. Leaning into her ear Erik whispered, "play with me." Clara nodded as Erik pulled away to pick up his violin that rested up against the organ. Sitting down on the bench Erik placed his violin under his chin and began to play.

Clara tried to recognize the song but she had never heard it before. The notes had a haunting darkness to them but at the same time they were sensual and romantic. Placing her bow along the strings of her cello Clara began to play as well, she played her emotions through her cello and as they continued playing it was as if the two instruments were speaking to each other words that the players didn't seem able to say themselves.

Their hearts and strings became one, tuned by the years of suffering and loneliness for both of them. The haunting love duet continued and filled the Opera Populaire with music once more.