Disclaimer: I own no rights to The Phantom of the Opera. Be it book, movie, or theater production. Though, Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber do. Probably some others as well...I dunno, just not me.

Authoress' Note: To lazy to correct the 'Megan' from the last chapter, sorry. Okay, this is the last chapter that I had pre-typed. Now it will probably take a bit longer for me to update. Probably every three or four days from now on. Depends on my mood. But! Good news, my life is not exciting! Meaning: I have nothing else to do! ... Yeah. Answering now!

Zeech: I'm completely negative, so feel free to ignore my insults to my own writing! I appreciate your reviews, their so long and stuff, it makes me happy. I play a guessing game with the 'to-too's. I hate them, and their not to fond of me. I need to figure that whole thing out o.o. Glad you liked chapter two, that one worried me, I was not sure if it was realistic enough. But apparently, it was! Yes, this Erik is arrogant. I don't want him to be so.. tender, like steak. He's all emotionally disabled. Typos; I always read chapters over before I update, but typos still slip through, oh well. As long as their not bothersome. I enjoy reading your reviews. I shall continue this until it is finished now!
Snowfox2: Yes'm! No dying!

Key:
†This will be placed next to things in the story I would wish to explain. They will be detailed at the end of each chapter.
'This' will be thoughts, and it should be easy to tell who is thinking what.


...Into La Ment

Erik had awoken midday, sleeping in a position that surprised him, seeing as how the previous nights lying as he was woke him. He had slept well and had not been interrupted by pain during the night, which had been a dramatic change. He stood triumphantly, and stretched, flinching a bit from a sudden twinge of pain. Shrugging, he glanced around and began to make his way out of the room, walking ineptly, but thought it well that he was walking at all. He stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and leaned against the molding, covering the right side of his face idly and looking at Meg with a victorious smile. She didn't notice him at first as she placed the remains of a †muffin in her mouth, she looked up at him, jumping slightly as she moved her hand to her chest, taking a deep breath.

"Monsieur, you frightened me." As if suddenly realizing he was there again, her startled expression became blank, "What in the world are you doing?"
"Standing, I believe. Mademoiselle, I am feeling quite improved."
"You, are ridiculous!" Meg virtually shouted, standing and brushing off her hands, "You are going to re-open the wound and we will be back too where we started." She walked briskly around the table, in a way that reminded Erik of her mother. She stopped in front of him, looking at him irritably, "Well, show me then." She said, gesturing out of the doorway.

Erik had impulse to simply snort irritably at her demand and leave, but seeing he was in good cheer, and quite enjoying aggravating little Giry, he decided to continue. Moving with natural poise, Erik walked into the lounge room. Finding himself in some pain. He forced himself to keep a pleased expression on his face and ignored the pain shooting up his back. He stopped and looked back at Meg, his lips curling up into a bizarre, uncomfortable smile. In the end, he failed himself, face twisting with the knowledge of his obvious failure as he winced. Meg smirked faintly, but it quickly faded from her lips when Erik gave her a cold glare. Meg looked downward, obviously uneasy. She cleared her throat and began to walk toward Erik, glancing around uncomfortably. "Monsieur.. you're not in the condition to be gallivanting about.."

"Nonsense," Erik waved her off and began walking to her room, "I refuse to intrude a pone your hospitality any longer."

Meg sighed in relief as Erik began to walk off. She was worried he would stomp out the door, leaving her alone, and with the many questions she sought to ask him. Hurriedly, she walked after him stopping in the doorway and watching him reach for his cloak and coat. "Wait, Monsieur! I insist you stay for a bit longer. You are being quite careless!" Erik glanced over at her, but besides that simply ignored her. Motivated, Meg strode toward him as he himself turned to leave the room, in the same moment, Erik collided with Meg causing her to yelp and nearly fall backward. Erik's cloak fluttered into the air and onto his head, he tried to throw it off but ended up stumbling back and falling onto the bed. He flung his arm wildly to fling off his cloak, now in pain, frustrated and confused. Meg ran toward to the end of the bed and grabbed Erik's cloak, quickly pulling it off. Misjudging the required strength for said task; she tumbled backward onto the floor.

Everything was quiet for a good minute. Meg stared blankly up in shock, the cloak still clenched in her hand, her other holding down the skirt of her dress. She heard the rustle of Erik's movements, and blinked perplexedly as he leaned over to look down at her, strings of his dark hair falling into his face. He sneered cheerfully, once again enjoying himself. "Mademoiselle, you, are exceedingly clumsy.." He moved back and sighed in annoyance feeling warm liquid running down his back, "You will be pleased to know, you succeeded in only impairing me once again." He held his hand down toward her and she took hold of it, the skirt of her dress sliding up, promptly reversing its self as Erik effortlessly pulled her off the ground, flinching as he did so.
Meg gave him an apologetic look and set his cloak on the dresser, the surprise draining from her face. "You are bleeding once more?" Erik glanced at her, and nodded. He sighed again and turned gingerly, lying on his stomach, looking quite disgruntled.

"This will further spoil my perfect attire.." He said sarcastically, quite aware he was in dire need of new dress clothes.
"All right then! I shall go out and purchase you something!" Meg said cheerfully, receiving a questionable look from Erik. She smiled sheepishly; noting his expression, realizing her voice sounded much to giddy. "Yes.. well, I avoided work yesterday; I must go meet Madame Friar today. I believe she will let me teach at present to requite. Better still, I will most likely receive payment. In conclusion, I can purchase you a new dress shirt and what not. Cannot have you lying about in bloodied clothing, you've done that long enough..-"

Erik had ceased concentration, he couldn't decide if it was the sudden nausea, or the mere fact that the girl was rambling on that made his mind blur out her speech. He would defiantly need to repay her. He found it ironic how, like her mother, Meg was helping him. He was glad to find Meg had her mother's character, though, she was more frivolous. Like her mother, she was different from many Parisian women. Strong disposition, while remaining amiable. He sighed; his thoughts were jumping around quite a lot lately.

The sigh had drawn Meg's attention, "Monsieur?" She questioned, staring at him blankly. He glanced up at her and all the thoughts tugged at the corner of his lips, he couldn't help but smile. "Your pay must not be much; I would hate to see you waste it all on me. I will be repaying you, mademoiselle. I dislike having expenses hovering about. "
"If you insist." She smiled and nodded, turning and beginning to walk off, "I will buy effects to dress your wound as well. I should return before sundown." With that, she was off into the lounge room. Erik immediately thought of her well being while she roamed the streets.
"Mademoiselle, you must be cautious.. I dislike the idea of you wandering about after what transpired before.." He began to charily prop himself up on his elbows, forgetting for a moment of his reopened wound. He heard the door open, and then a few taps of footsteps on the metal stairway. A pause, and they began again. Confused, he stared blankly at the doorway, wondering what she was doing. At that second, Meg appeared in the doorway, staring at him with a concerned expression.

"Do not be too troubled, but.. the," she hesitated, "scene was discovered. Are you going to be all right, with the bleeding?" The question came out from no where.

Erik thought for a moment, the only things that would cause interest; the mask left behind and the Punjab lasso. The latter made him worry some, but he waved her off simply, after all, it would make an interesting read in the paper. "No need for concern. It only renders it safe for you too stroll about, and yes, I will be fine. Endurance and all that." He waved his hand carelessly for drama effect as he finished his sentence. Erik nestled back down into the bedding, planting the unblemished side of his face into the pillow and breathed deeply, sending strains of hair flickering about his face. He looked up at her indolently, feeling quite drowsy and annoyed with the unpleasant feeling of blood, along with the helplessness.

Meg couldn't help but be enamored with his winsome-like actions, which had not altered even as his distortion was shown. She smiled, and flinched subtly as she realized she was staring. Surely, he would think it was because of his deformation. She thought for a moment, then decided it was stupid to randomly announce she thought him appealing, just so he wouldn't think otherwise, even if it was true. She would embarrass herself. Suppressing a sigh, Meg quickly strolled off to grab her keys and make her way out.

Meg tottered down the stairs, staring at the fuss as she did so. The men-of-the-law had begun to move the bodies. She watched as one corpse was unstuck, it seemed to almost be glued down by coagulated blood. Bits of the flesh still remained on the pavement as it was ripped from the ground. The underside of the arms of Erik's victim looked almost fillet now. Meg grimaced and looked away, beginning to walk faster, hoping she would simply be ignored. Fortunately, that was the case.


†Yes, they had muffins.

That's it for chapter four! More to some, probably on Saturday sometime. I loveth reviews!