A/N: Since I received a few very prompt reviews I am posting this next chapter. Enjoy.
Chapter Four
Learning to Trust
Erik
I think it has been two days I have been in this odd woman's home. I cannot be certain as most of the time delirium has taken over. She may be normal in most circumstances but for anyone to treat me as if I were normal they must be an oddity. Upon regaining my faculties I have ascertained that she deemed it safer to keep me sedated and chained. How wise she is. Were I to gain my freedom, they would all suffer my wrath.
I awoke to find myself cleaned and clothed in garments I do not recognize. My mask I know I left sitting beside the monkey music box or at least that is what I remember. Things are not as clear as I would wish them to be. I wonder how much of what I do remember is actual memories or something my mind has conjured.
In any case it is as well I am confined as I have always been one to strike out first at any perceived danger. There were times when I committed some violence where none had been called for. My anger at the world around me and all those people above going about their lives not knowing how blessed they were to spend life with the sun on their faces and loved ones by their sides is not something anyone wishes unleashed upon the world. Me, I had none of that easy priviliged life. Only hatred and fear have ever been my constant companions. Christine claimed in those last moments that it is my very soul which is distorted and not only my face. Perhaps that is true. Judging by my past it is likely I would murder everyone within this household should I break free of my restraints.
A part of me knows that this is only mind bluster as I don't think I have the stomach for violence just yet, not against anyone, not even de Chagny or Madame Giry. Later once my heart quits its internal bleeding I might find my vengeful side has returned. For the moment it is all I can do not to sob out in my agony. Closing my eyes gives me no relief. If I could live forever without one second of sleep I believe I could die a happy man or at least what happiness someone such as I might find in life. As hard as I try I cannot recall any time in my life where I felt happy. Not even those moments when I composed music gave me any real or lasting joy. What joy is there in music no one hears? I have cursed Lefèvre over the years for not performing any of my music. Well, the one time I managed to get one of my operas to be performed it was the time I lost what little of my mind I had left. If that is what love does to a person I shall be quite willing to live out the rest of my days never experiencing it again.
Of course I am lying. To have even one day I spent with Christine back again I would sell my soul if the devil did not already hold the deed to that worthless entity. Always before when something caused me distress it would leave me quickly as I pushed back any hurt and let my anger take the place of any softer feelings I might wish to display. Striking out first is a lesson I learned early in my life and it served me well for many years. Only with Christine did I offer comfort and solace with no expectation of anything in return. In the beginning I did have altruistic intentions. Only later when my mind became clouded by lust and vengeance did things change. I wanted more than to be her Angel of Music. I wanted to be a man in her eyes.
Everything I did in my opera house I did to prove I was a man. My appearance except for my face looked just as any fine gentleman might look on any given evening at the opera. I have learned table manners fit for any nobleman's table. My knowledge of the arts and science worlds is extensive. I pride myself on learning as much as I can. I have read extensively and although I have not traveled in reality I have done so in my mind. There is not a place known to the world that I have not visited in spirit.
The rattling of keys alerts me to the doors opening. It will be the woman. No one else comes in here. I hear someone outside the door during those times she comes to bring me a tray of food or wipe me with a wet cloth. I had staved off relieving any of my bodily functions as long as I could that first night. As time dragged on and I remained chained to the bed it became paramount that I relieve myself or burst. When I demanded to be let loose so I could make use of the facilities that damn woman refused me. Oh she did so in a very gentle and commiserating tone but refuse me she did. Her solution was to bring a bedside chamber pot complete with cabinet for my use.
When those two men brought it in if I could have struck her dead I would have. I had raged at all of them and cursed them in the vilest of terms to no avail. My embarrassment rivaled my humiliation and rage to be treated so. Calming down when she merely stood by the bed with her hands folded looking serenely at me lessoned my anger until the fire slowly burned down then went completely cold.
"Now that that is over I shall release your feet and one of your wrists. You should be able to reach…well to use…that." Well, so she is not as placid and unperturbed as she would have me believe. She can be ruffled even if it is only her sensibilities that are disturbed.
I could have strangled her then taken the keys from her but something, something I could not name, held me back from any violence toward her. I do not know what influence she has over my murderous side or if I am only weakened by my misery over losing Christine but I am willing to explore just what it is this woman has done to me. I do not feel as if a spell has been cast on me or a mind altering drug has been slipped past my lips. Whatever I am experiencing it is something new and perplexing.
For now I am content to stay here. This is a more congenial place than I imagined I would be held if anyone ever captured me. Strangely I do not feel as if I am a prisoner even if I am shackled to a bed and not able to move about at will. When she leaned over me to release my bonds the key ring dangled temptingly just in front of my face. It would have been so easy to reach out and take them and she would not have known as I could have silenced her permanently. I had looked up to catch her watching me with a knowing look upon her face that set me on edge. I disliked having someone think they know me that well. What does she really know of me? No one knows me. At times even I do not think I am aware of all I am capable of achieving.
Our rocky beginning gives way to cautious acceptance, on my part at least. Being a curious minded person I am intrigued to learn what she has in store for me. Everyone wants something. What does she want from her pet Erik? One hint of betrayal on her part and the will rue the day her path crossed with mine.
Today I hope to learn more about her. I am intrigued to say the least. I cannot remember anyone being so complacent in my company. Not even Christine had been easy in my company and we had been together every day for the last twenty years. Of course she did think me an angel in the beginning and then later she knew me to be the Opera Ghost and Phantom. We never openly said anything but I am sure she knew once I began sending her the roses with a black ribbon tied around the stem that I had more of corporeal reality to me than angelic temperament or ghoulish phantom. The gifts I sent were gifts a man courting a woman would send his intended and not anything an angel might give even if they did such things.
I still have one chain around my wrist but if I put my mind to it I could pick the lock quite easily. I don't know what keeps me here other than curiosity and knowing that I have no place to go. My home is likely to be nothing more than a pile of burned debris. I have funds which could take me anywhere I wish to go but no place at the moment holds any interest for me. I barely care whether I wake in the mornings. I have not even summoned the energy to demand a mask be provided for me or a wig to cover the sparsely covered part of my scalp. That is the level of my indifference. I care nothing about what she has seen. In the past to even see me with my means of disguise intact could lead to someone dying or being frightened so badly they ran from the opera house proclaiming to have seen the Devil himself.
"Well Erik and how are you feeling today? I have brought you a nice piece of roasted chicken, fresh green beans with garlic and butter potatoes and for dessert a piece of freshly baked apple pie."
She had my mouth salivating at the mention of the chicken. Listening to the rest of the menu I felt ready to beg like a dog for the plate I saw on a tray. Thinking she might withhold my food if I remained churlish and sullen I said with as much congeniality as I could manage, "I am wonderful." Lifting my wrist and rattling the chains I could not help one sarcastic gibe at her as I say, "I must recommend you to the government as your prison is by far the best I have ever experienced."
Contrarily she laughs and replies with good humor, "Oh Erik you know very well this is not a prison and you are not a prisoner. In fact you have regained your calm to the extent I am thinking of removing your restraints and you can decide whether to stay or go. Would that be to your liking?"
"Woman you jest. To be free of all restraints is a gift to be cherished. I know all too well what it is to be chained and caged." I had not meant to elaborate to that extent. Not many know the part of my past I try so hard to forget. Madame Giry of course had witnessed only one night of it firsthand. I thank God she felt compassion toward me that night rather than the fear I would have expected after having witnessed me strangling the man keeping me in a cage so he could parade crowds through the tent to gawk, point and scream at me. Over the five years I had been with the fair I lost count of the number of times I felt the lash of his whip across my back.
I almost choked on my own surprise when she sat down on the bed beside me. For a few moments she just looked at me, all of me from head to toe. I felt like wriggling around under her concentrated perusal. I am not comfortable with anyone looking at me even when I wear the mask and wig.
I could not keep from flinching when she raised her hand toward my face. Momentarily she paused as if waiting to see what I would do. When I merely sat with my head turned slightly away she placed her fingertips on my ruined flesh in a way that had become oddly familiar and dare I say, pleasant? As much as I wanted to move away from her touch I wanted to bury my face in the palm of her hand. What would it be like to have this every day, to have a woman love me enough to be blinded by my ugliness? I had thought it would be Christine at my side until our last sunset but now I am beginning to wonder if I ever really believed that.
Right now I am suffering too much to examine my emotions beyond that I hurt like hell. I miss her so much. There has not been a day in the last twenty or so years I have not awakened and known I would see her and she would be excitedly waiting for me to speak to her from every corner of whatever room we choose as our meeting place. I had learned to cast my voice so that it sounded as if it came from any place I chose for someone to hear it. I try not to think of those weeks she spent under the care of her little Vicomte. I know what happened during her time away and find it hard to reconcile my image of her as purity personified with the image of her willingly lying in her lovers arms. A lover that had not been me.
"Erik can I tell you something and have you believe what I say?" Hesitantly I nod my head wondering if I am only giving the response she wishes. Having received her answer a small smile crosses her lips before she says, "I promise I will never lie to you no matter what the circumstances. I will never betray a confidence. Once my word is given I honor my promise. Do you believe me? Will you trust me?"
I would rather there be silence between us and for her to keep touching me in this gentle manner. Even her soft voice wafts around me, soothing my inner turmoil. Her presence eases my pain in a way I would not have thought possible. If it means listening to her speak in the same tones I am willing to listen. I cannot speak for fear of sobbing out loud my gratitude for her kindness to a loathsome beast such as I. I nod once in acquiescence.
"I want you to listen to me closely. I don't think you are a horrid person, not really. You have done horrible things and for that there will be some restitution needing to be paid to balance the universe. If one looks at your life one might be forgiven for thinking that you have already paid a heavy price for retaining a modicum of what others have. It could be argued that you have served a twenty year prison sentence by burying yourself beneath the opera house," she pauses waiting for a comment that will never come.
After a short silence she continues, "Granted the accommodations were better than many prisons but still it was a prison, one filled with minimal luxury. Erik I don't claim to know all there is to know about you nor will I demand you regale me with every miniscule detail. I know enough to form an opinion and what I have concluded is that you deserve a second chance at life. I intend to see that you get that chance. What you do with it is up to you. You will need to think long and hard just what it is you would like out of life then we can set about procuring your dreams but please do not include Christine in any of your plans."
When I growled in warning she stopped for a moment then continued, "Now none of that. You have to know it is not meant for you to be with Christine. Any fool could see how much in love they are and Erik if there is one thing you are not, it is a fool, foolish yes, but not a fool."
She patted my shoulder in what I suppose could be called an affectionate manner then rose to her feet. She looked down at me with a soft look on her face that nearly brought the humiliating tears to my eyes once more. All of this tenderness she is showing me is overwhelming. I am confused as to what reason she is showing me such thoughtfulness. No one else ever had, not even my own mother.
"Think about things overnight. I'll unlock your last restraint and if you are still here in the morning we will talk seriously about your future."
For a brief moment when she has unlocked the last chain holding me the urge to escape nearly has me pushing her to the floor then fleeing the room. Something held me in place. I cannot say what but it was more powerful than my need to be free. What have I done? What have I committed myself to? Whatever happens in the future at least it will be by my own choice and not forced on me by others or circumstance.
For that, I shall be eternally grateful to this oddly wonderful woman.