A/N: Oops. Forgot the standard disclaimer. I don't own Erik, Christine, Meg, or the others OR the song. I only own Dawn and Squishie.
Chapter 2...Late Night Company
Dawn was awoken several hours earlier than she would have liked to have been by Christine.
"The managers have left you a map of the opera house and a list of all of the things they want you to do."
Dawn eyed the list and groaned, yanking the covers over her head.
"Why is it so long?" she asked, sounding like a child.
"We're a bit short-staffed," Christine said apologetically, "and we have to get the opera house up and running again."
Dawn sighed.
"All right."
Christine left her to get dressed. She yawned all through breakfast. The sun was just coming up when she got started. The opera house had seemed big before, but not nearly as big as it did now. Dawn stared at the miles and miles of floors to be scrubbed and almost passed out.
By the time she got done with the list, it was very, very late and everyone had gone to bed. She'd endured angry shouts from the managers because she hadn't worked fast enough and she was shaking because she hadn't eaten since breakfast.
"What a day," she complained to Squishie as she lay down on the bed, "no wonder nobody else wants to work here."
She closed her eyes and fell asleep fully clothed and didn't notice the familiar shape of the mask in the shadows.
The next morning wasn't any better. She had to run here and there, fetching this, cleaning that, delivering messages, ect... When she finally lay down on her bed, she slept as a dead woman did. Not even Squishie's wet kisses could revive her.
The next morning, Dawn was shaken awake by an irate Carlotta who demanded that she take her dogs for a walk. Dawn staggered out of bed, eyes glazed over from exhaustion, and took the leashes. She didn't even notice Carlotta yelling at her.
"There has to be a solution to this," Dawn said to herself as she let the dogs drag her down the sidewalk, "a way to go faster."
Then, she suddenly remembered. She had shoes in her suitcase that had retractable skating wheels. They were brand new because she never thought she'd use them. Grinning, she limped back to the opera house on aching legs and tried to keep Squishie from eating the two small poodles for breakfast.
After handing the poodles off to Carlotta, Dawn dashed back up to her room. She took off the ballet flats she wore and laced up the shoes.
"I guess it's time I do it my way," she said, dumping the contents of her backpack out on her bed. Then, she put the wheels down and took off down the hallway. Carlotta yelped and jumped out of the way as Dawn sped by. When Dawn came to the top of the stairs, she hopped on the banister and slid down it. When she landed, she fell on her butt.
"Ow!"
She had just pulled herself to her feet when the managers found her.
"Here," one of them snarled, "and get it ALL done today! We have rehearsal starting tomorrow!"
Dawn took the list and stuck her tongue out at their retreating backs.
"Yes sir, you big old fart!" she muttered.
"What was that?!" one of them demanded.
"I said I guess I should start," Dawn said, feigning innocence.
Erik, as usual, was watching. He stifled a snicker at this.
Squishie was wagging her tail as though she were laughing, too.
"Come on, Squish. I've only had two meals in two days and I won't make it if I don't eat something."
Two seconds later, Dawn and Squishie emerged from the kitchen. Squishie carried a scrap of meat in her jaws and Dawn had a piece of bread.
"Uh, let's see. Aww crap. Today's laundry day and I have to gather up EVERYTHING and take it to the ladies out back who do the wash. Counting Carlotta's stuff, that ought to keep me all day," Dawn thought aloud. Suddenly, the sound of paper rustling got her attention. A sealed envelope landed at Dawn's feet.
"Aww, boy. It's the local legend," Dawn said, turning it over to see the skull-shaped seal, "it's to the managers. Let's go give this to them first, then get started."
She took off.
"That damned opera ghost is back again! How in the Hell do we get rid of him! Carlotta's going to leave again!"
Dawn took off before they could open the letter.
"I have a feeling they won't like what they read," she told Squishie as she rolled away with lightning speed, "they're gonna blame it all on us if we don't hurry."
Dawn gathered up all the ballet costumes first, then all the bed clothes. She bagged them up and heaved them over her head so that they rolled all the way down the stairs. Then, with difficulty, she dragged them outside.
By midday, Dawn was sweating and badly in need of a drink of water. Squishie was panting from trying to keep up.
"I could use a break," Dawn huffed, going to the kitchen. A few moments later, she was chased out by an irate cook, but she clutched her prize in both hands: a glass of cold water. She drank half of it and slowly poured the rest of it into Squishie's mouth.
"All right. Let's go."
"DAWN!" a voice roared.
"Coming!" Dawn said exasperatedly. She tucked her wheels in so that she could climb the stairs.
Moments later, she was staggering under the weight of Carlotta's things. She was so off balance that she fell down the stairs.
"SH--!" Dawn swore as she rolled. She crashed right into the manager she'd been hoping to avoid. He quickly righted himself as Dawn lay sprawled at the bottom of the staircase.
"Ohh," she groaned, "I think I broke something."
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!" the manager roared.
"I mean I think I busted my butt," Dawn complained. She braced her hands against the tiled floor and pushed herself upright, wincing as something made a snapping sound.
"GET UP!"
Dawn was still looking a bit dazed. Ignoring the manager's tirade, she grabbed the lip of the cloth bag again and hauled it outside. She didn't see the other letter to fall although she heard an irritated exclamation.
Dawn's back pain did not improve. In fact, she was hurting all over by the time the day was over. And as consequence for having topped the manager, she was told she'd have to spend the night scrubbing the stage. Sighing, she didn't argue and told Squishie to stay in the room. On her way to retrieve the supplies, she heard Madame Giry arguing with the managers over the unfairness.
"I am sorry to hear that you're having such a hard time here," Christine said, handing Dawn an apple. Dawn wolfed it down gratefully.
"Thanks," she said, tossing the core in the garbage, "can't you tell them to lighten up on me just a little?"
"I'm afraid I can't, at least not yet. As long as I work here, I have to do as I'm told as well."
"Well, thanks anyway."
Dawn went off to work on the stage.
Erik was watching from the rafters as Dawn placed the oil lamp nearby so she could see. On her hands and knees, she scrubbed in small circles. Slowly, she began to hum. The humming gradually turned into words that she'd forever associate with this stage. She worked as fast as she could, wanting to get this done. It didn't take long for her to get a quarter of the stage done.
Think of me,
think of me fondly
when we've said goodbye.
Remember me,
once in a while,
please promise me you'll try...
She didn't see the living shadow that slipped onto the stage and sat at the piano just behind the curtain. She did, however almost jump out of her skin as music began to play. She was sure, that this late at night, she'd have been alone. The person who was playing repeated the notes of the last line she sang, then paused as if telling her to continue. With growing boldness, she started over, this time with the mystery pianist backing her.
"We never said
our love was evergreen
or as unchanging as the sea
but if you can still remember,
stop and think of me..."
Memories flooded Erik's mind. It had been Christine's first major performance. But something penetrated those memories. Christine's voice had been rich and light, smooth as silk. This girl's voice, however, was strong and round like the rest of her. She did not have the same air of delicacy that most of the singers here did. In fact, she sounded as though she'd had no training whatsoever, but there was something about her just the same...
"Think of all the things
we've shared and seen
don't think about all the things
that could have been..."
She sang the lyrics slightly differently, too, but he didn't mind the changes she'd made. Her voice wasn't bewitching the same way Christine's had been, but there was such a frankness and honesty about her that intrigued Erik.
"Think of me,
think of me waking
silent and resigned
imagine me,
trying too hard
to put you from my mind..."
The evidence of surprise and fear had left her voice by now. She was scrubbing with vigor and there was a large area that she'd already done. She wouldn't take long to finish at this rate; he'd simply needed to distract her from her irritation.
"Think of me,
please say you'll think of me
whatever else you choose to do
there will never be a day when
I...won't...think...of...you!
As she sang the word "you", Dawn's voice rang through the theater. She sounded like determination, her voice thick and strong. He couldn't help but wonder where she'd heard this song before. Expecting the worst, he came to the end, slowing down just a little bit.
Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade
they have their seasons, so do we,
but please promise me
that you will sometimes think...of...me...
She didn't even try to hit the painfully high notes. Instead, she let her voice slide back down easily. He couldn't help but smile- at least she wasn't pulling a Carlotta.
Dawn stood up slowly, realizing the stage was done. She took the oil lamp.
"Hey! Thanks for keeping me company!" she called to the darkness before going back upstairs, limping badly.
He hoped that the managers would not assign her anything hard to do tomorrow. She was limping so badly she could hardly walk. He hoped they'd taken his letter seriously.
He decided to go check on her.
He slipped through one of the passages and emerged behind the mirror in Dawn's room. Sure she was asleep, he approached her carefully. The little dog, thankfully, did not notice him. He lifted the back of her shirt and was enraged when he saw the ugly dark bruises lining her back. No wonder she was limping so much.
He went back into the secret passage and thought on his way back to his home. Erik didn't have any obligations to this woman. He didn't owe anyone anything.
And yet...
Part of him longed to protect her the way he'd failed to protect Christine. She hadn't demanded to know who was playing the piano, she'd just been grateful for the company, knowing somehow she wasn't alone.
Dawn woke the next day when Meg brought her a breakfast tray.
"Isn't this a bit much for a maid?" Dawn asked.
"The Opera Ghost told the managers to give you time off so that your back could heal," Meg said, "and he demanded that we treat you as one of us. We tried to tell them, but they wouldn't listen until the Opera Ghost wrote to them."
"Thanks," Dawn said gratefully. She was surprised to find that she was starving.
"He seems to have taken an interest in you," Meg commented, "but be careful; he's very temperamental at times."
"I heard," Dawn said around a mouthful.
As soon as she finished eating, Dawn went right back to sleep and didn't move until it was time for dinner. During this time, she'd begun to feel a little bit better. Someone sent up cold compresses for it and by that evening, she could move much better. The bruises would eventually fade, but at least the pain wasn't so severe.
"I gotta remember to thank him," Dawn said, stroking Squishie's head that evening, "otherwise, I'd be screwed right now."
She turned the light off and went to sleep.