AN: Thanks so much to all of you who have reviewed/favorited this story! You made my week! Just to warn you, the timing is about to get a little funky… from here on out, every other chapter will be a flashback. In almost each flashback, the characters change their ages. Right now, in the present, Erik is 31 and Shadow is 18.
Chapter 2
Erik had finally immersed himself in his music when a moan broke his concentration. He immediately hurried to the swan bed and threw back the curtain, hoping that the girl was conscious to answer his questions. He growled in frustration as he realized that the noise had been involuntary; the girl was still out cold. Speaking of cold… Erik noticed that the young woman was shivering, and realized that he hadn't even had the presence of mind to get her out of her wet clothes. He gently lifted the girl in his arms and began stripping off her soaked clothing with difficulty. He was grateful to find a pair of bloomers beneath her trousers, and likewise a coarse undershirt beneath her masculine shirt and overcoat. As interested as he was in the girl, he was not interested in her that way. As he removed her cap, he noticed the short, choppy way her ash blonde hair was cut, as if she had done it herself with a dull pair of scissors. This girl had obviously been living on her own for quite some time.
Erik gently laid her back down onto the bed and left to search for a warm blanket, all the while racking his brain for some clue as to her identity. This endless puzzle was getting old; if she didn't regain consciousness soon, he would surely go mad… again, he added bitterly to himself. Finally he apprehended a thick, soft tapestry hanging on the wall and shook it viciously to remove the dust that had gathered on it. As he returned to the bedroom, his footsteps on the cold stone floor left a resounding echo that pounded into his dark thoughts; almost like the echoes of the footsteps of the little ballerinas that had pounded above his head. The Opera Populaire still thrived in his memories, even though the only occupants of the building at present were Erik and the many rats that had declared the darkness as a suitable haven.
As he reached the doorway of the bedroom, he almost dropped the tapestry at the sight of the girl lying unconscious on his bed. Her still form lying there reminded him so much of Christine… Christine… No! He cursed his wandering mind angrily. No more unbidden thoughts! He hurried to the bed and lifted the girl in his arms again, carefully balancing her against him with one arm while attempting to wrap the makeshift blanket around her with the other. He had just gotten the blanket to stay in place when her eyelashes fluttered briefly, causing him to pause in his work.
"Erik," a soft feminine voice whispered. He stared at the pale face in awe. Had she really just spoken, or was it his imagination? His doubts were dispelled when a moment later she shifted in his arms.
Her eyes blinked open slowly and gazed into his as they had when he held her in the boat. A small smile graced her thin lips as she beheld the ivory-masked face before her. Erik quickly laid her onto the bed and began to step away, when the hand weakly grasping the ruffles of his white shirt stopped him.
"Please stay," the soft voice whispered. "Please." Erik obediently perched on the edge of the bed, and she released his shirt with a satisfied grin. "Still a pushover, hmm Erik?" Erik found his voice and replied to the question with firm dignity.
"I am not, nor have I ever been, able to be coerced against my will. I merely stayed because… because…" Erik faltered as he tried to think of a good reason, goaded on by her gentle smirk. "Because you, miss, have a great many questions to answer, and I will not leave until you have satisfied my inquisition!" Erik glared at her, congratulating himself inwardly for his stern answer. The teenager smiled back at him, unfazed, her lips parting as she began to sing quietly to the tune of his prelude to Music of the Night.
"Have the years caused your memory to fade away? Or have you forgotten your little relentless shadow… shadow?" She watched him silently as his countenance blanched. Shadow… could it be possible? But that had been so many years ago… he had only glimpsed her once, but that moment had burned into his mind forever. He thought about that day, and gazed at the young woman in front of him. Yes, this had to be her. She had deep brown eyes, bordering on black; blonde hair that used to be long and straight, now feathered and short; the sweet, innocent smile. This was the shadow who had haunted him for years as he had haunted the Opera and its inhabitants. Shadow…
