Chicken Soup

Disclaimer: I don't own POTO, but if I did, then it would be great.


Erik slept a lot, he was still very sick; and he didn't have much reason to get out of bed. Christine was lost to him, he burnt down his home, and he was virtually alone. More so than before, at least back then he had wooing Christine to look forward to.

He enjoyed his sleep, it was the only place where he could picture himself with Christine, living in the labyrinth, with a little girl of their own running around; calling Erik 'daddy'.

It was such a perfect thought that, when he was awake, he wished it would be real. The worst part about waking from his fantasy was that when he did; everything flooded at him, the realization that Raoul was living his fantasy. He had Christine in his home, he was going to have a little girl running about in the De Changy mansion, calling Raoul 'daddy'. That understanding was upsetting.

He could hear Alex in the bathroom next to his room, vomiting. He didn't think berry sickness and running from Paris to Lille was contagious, so he figured she must have caught something before he came.

Even if she had, he didn't care. He wanted Christine; He wanted to wake up in the swan bed with her next to him, asking him if he had a nightmare. He wanted the whole ugly mess with the opera house to be a nightmare, but the amount of pain he was in made him realize that it couldn't be a dream, and that was more than displeasing.

So he slept. It was the only thing he could do from going mad without Christine and with being confined to a bed for such a length of time. He slept, and he dreamed of what he knew would never be his otherwise.

He had a family…

He had a wife…

He had a normal face…

He had a normal life…

He was happy…

Those were what his dreams contained, all of which he couldn't have in reality. It was a kick in the balls really, to dream of something he wanted more than anything, but could never possess. It was enough for him to get out of bed, write a suicide note to Alexandra, and leave to die out in the forest somewhere. But he didn't, he was too tired to move, and it wasn't enough objective to get him out of bed.

He hated sleeping so much, he knew that only depressed people slept a lot.

Well, you are depressed. His mind told him as he lay in bed, waiting for sleep to sweep him away. Besides, as soon as you're better you can leave.

But to where? Lille was right next to the Mediterranean Sea, he had no money for a ferry, and even if he did; where would he go from there?

There was no where to go, The opera house was the only place he knew, but he couldn't go back, he knew that the police were looking for him, why wouldn't they be?

He could hear Alex finish throwing up, and then leaving the bathroom entirely. He didn't know why she'd been so sick, but then again, it was none of his business. That and he didn't give a rat's ass why she was sick.

Before he fell asleep, he heard small whispering and giggling coming from beside his bed. He opened the eye closest to the edge, and saw three little girls who all looked identical. All of them had black hair, brown eyes, and a light dust of freckles on their faces.

"Can I help you?" Erik asked icily, the three girls shared a look, and then looked back at him. The two on the sides elbowed the one in the middle, who spoke up shyly.

"You're Mr. Mask." She informed him quietly. "The one momma is taking care of."

"Right" He replied, not showing much interest or want in talking to the little triplets. But they insisted that he did.

"I'm Chloe; these are my sisters Ella and Sophie. We came in to see if you wanted to play, you're always in here, and this isn't a fun room." Erik shook his head at the girl who looked at her sisters in question, as if she was trying to ask them how to get him to come out and play.

"Please Mr.?" Ella spoke up sweetly, giving him the innocent, kicked puppy look, but he didn't feel for her. He didn't feel much of anything anymore for anyone.

"No" He said, keeping his temper under control. He knew he shouldn't shout at the little girls for trying to be nice, but there were a lot of things he shouldn't have done.

"You can play with my dollies" Sophie tried to persuade. "They're real pretty, and fun too." Erik shook his head again, and the girls looked at each other in defeat. They were about to try again, until they heard their mother's voice behind them.

"Girls, I told you not to come in here, now go on;" The girls erupted in a mad giggle as their mother playfully pushed them out of the room, saying: "Scoot, scoot!" They giggled their way out of the room and down the hall to their playroom, where they completely forgot all about Erik for the time being. "I see you met my brood."

"Persistent little things." Erik told her tonelessly, at that point wishing everyone would go away so he could sleep.

"Yeah, they're hell raisers too. Ella and Chloe are the worst, and Sophie just follows along on their adventures." Erik saw she was proud of her little ones, and he could see why, they were persistent young ladies; she had reason to be proud. She turned to him with a smile and sweetly said: "I remembered a way for you to help the pain in your legs stop." He didn't want to look desperate for the answer, but he was. He hated the pain in his legs, and he wanted it to stop. "A hot bath helps." Erik nodded, and used his arms to help himself sit up. Alexandra helped him up, but he swatted her away with his arm.

"I can handle it." He hissed at her, she took her hands off him and watched him walk to the bathroom, but looking very tired by the time he got there.

Erik locked the door before he filled the bathtub with warm water, and waited until that was done before undressing. He would not be caught naked.

He gently lowered himself into the hot water, and realized what a good idea it was. It was soothing, and just as Alex had predicted, it relieved his aching legs.

He took his mask and put it neatly beside the bathtub so if he needed to grab it quickly, it was there; and then he submerged his head under water.

All the while, Alex was in the kitchen struggling to make chicken soup for Erik. Her three daughters were watching her attempt closely, and were helping her along the way. Cooking wasn't one of her stronger points, she could cook without burning the house down, but her food usually didn't taste all that great.

It was Sophie who told her not to cut the pads of yellow fat off the tail area of the chicken, Chloe told her to cover the ingredients by two inches, and Ella got a bucket incase her mother vomited over the yellow pads of fat.

"What would I do without you girls?" Alex asked with a smile as they waited for the food to cook.

"Make bad chicken soup!" They answered in unison, causing Alex to smile.

Where would he go…?

He could go to Asia, or maybe Persia, either one would be good. But even if he could stow away on a ship; and even if he could get to those places, where would he go once he was there? Unlike stealing bread, it was rather difficult to steal a house and an organ. He couldn't go on stealing forever; he would have to find some sort of employment.

But who would hire a man with a face like his who had to wear a mask? He looked like some sort of thief and that was kind of a deal breaker. There wasn't just that fact, but the fact that Erik didn't think he could stand working for someone. At the opera, it was: "Pay me or die" but in the rest of the world, it was: "I'll do what you say for money." And he liked the first one so much better.

He knew that he had enough time to figure out a plan of action, but his mind wouldn't let it rest. He wanted to know what he'd do about finding somewhere to go. Life was so much easier when he couldn't leave the opera; he was tied there by Christine, and her belief that he was the angel of music.

Not anymore, there was no angel of music, and he was torn away from the opera house like a child torn away from its mother at birth.

Erik was startled back into reality when a knock came at the door.

"Mate, I made you some soup, when you come out it's by the bed." Alex called from the other side; she called him 'mate' because she didn't know his name. What else was she to call him? Mr. Mask?

"Alright" Erik called back to her, agitated that she bothered him during his bath, and a little surprised to hear she made him soup.

"You might want to hurry, it'll get cold." Erik replied the same way he did before, and hurried to finish his bath. He was very caught off guard that as he washed the shampoo out of his hair, Alex used her skeleton key to walk right on into the bathroom to bring him some clean clothes.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" He yelled at her, trying to look subtle in trying to cover himself up.

"Oh she'll be apples mate. I have three daughters; you ain't got nothing I haven't seen before." She told him coolly as he gave her a horrified expression, one that basically was yelling at her to get out. All she did was casually put the clothes on the counter, tell him to hurry or his soup would be cold, and then leave.

When he got out, he put on his mask and the clothes she brought him, and went into the room where he stayed. There it was, starring back at him, the chicken soup Alex had brought him.

She came in just as he sat down on his bed and started to eat it, and she got angry when he made a sour face.

"What, you don't like it?" She snapped at him, putting her hands on her hips.

"Honestly no." he obviously wasn't going to spare her feelings; he honestly thought it was terrible.

"Well fine, next time you can make your own food!" Little did Erik know that was just a taste of the temper Alex seemed to have.


Wow! Two updates in one day! That's nice. I'll probably put more up later today. :)