Disclaimer: See other chapters.

Yay Kat Eddie! Yay Adi Sagestar! Yay Theater Raven! Yay Kiseki no Tenshi! I'd shower you all with confetti if I could. D

I muchly appreciate the reviews. They made me amazingly happy. Whee

I would appreciate the drawing Kat, but you don't have to (since moving can be a trial, I dun wanna make things more stressful on you). I'm actually trying to make a comic called 'ScissorMask' out of this fanfiction on That's part of the reason I came back to writing it.

And now, onto the fanfic!

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Edward had sat in the attic for a favorable span of time, first listening to Erik's boots glide down the stairway, then to silence until shouting and cries broke out. The angry shouting continued for fifteen minutes and he could hear more footfalls plunging around downstairs.

None of them came up to the attic, though whether they hadn't seen the stairway or thought there was no one there since Erik was gone, Edward wasn't sure. He waited until the footfalls died down and a semblance of calm had returned to the opera house. Timidly, he went towards the door and cracked it open.

Absolute stillness.

He descended the stairs like a cat—no, no, that wasn't right. Erik could descend the stairs like a cat, insinuating himself into the movement. Edward moved like a chipmunk, moving a few feet quickly and timidly before coming to a complete halt and looking around for enemies.

None of which appeared.

Leaving the stairs, he stepped out into the hallway, feeling more than a little trepidation. It had been ages since he left the attic without knowing what he was going to get or if he would return safely. Since the incident with Javert—had it only been a few days ago?—he'd been even more terrified of leaving with no destination in mind. He forced himself to keep moving, moving down the long hallway until he came out in the opera's main room. A man and a woman were inside, the one trying to comfort the other in vain.

Edward stared.

The woman was Christine, her head bolted up the instant he stepped into the room. She had the most pristine and unblemished skin Edward had ever seen. For a moment, he realized he could still feel envy. With his own notched, scarred face that Kim had barely been able to stand, he must appear hideous to her.

Christine had a way of making those around her feel ugly.

The man next to her, however, was everything a woman could want in a man and Edward doubted he'd ever been shamed by being less attractive than his angelic counterpart. An earth-bound Adonis, with golden hair and the same perfect complexion as Christine, he lifted his perfect chin and looked down his nose at Edward.

"What do you want?" The man barked.

"Raoul, please!" Christine admonished and the man, Raoul it seemed, toned down his ferocity. The black-haired man said nothing for a moment and this seemed to anger Raoul further.

"Have you found him yet? Who are you?"

"I'm not a member of the police…" Edward said, moving forward, his hands clinking lightly. The sound drew Christine and Raoul's attentions downward. The dark-haired girl sucked in a breath that echoed painfully in the cavernous room. Raoul, on the other hand, cursed and drew his sword, another sound that echoed. Edward looked at him, baffled.

"I don't want to fight—"

"Are those your hands?" Christine asked in a horrified whisper and Edward nodded, ashamed of them as always.

"Everyone keeps saying they know a doctor who can help me, but no one will tell me who he is." He replied softly. Christine continued to stare and Edward began to grow even more nervous under her stare.

"Did you see Erik?"

"Yes." She replied hesitantly, dragging her gaze from his hands to his face. She looked frightened, as if she worried that Erik had sent him after her. Raoul snorted, sheathing his sword.

"The phantom again. Bah, I long for the naivety I held when I believed he was a figment of Lottie's imagination. But no, he returns to haunt her again and again…"

"Raoul…"

"Don't hush me. Now we are visited by this creature, what am I to think of the phantom's manipulative methods? Certainly you can't expect me to respect him!"

"I don't, but please calm down." Having calmed her husband, she returned her attention to Edward. "If you please, what brings you here? Erik ran off into Paris, taking the police with him. They may return and find you if you linger though…"

Edward nodded, knowing she spoke the truth. She wanted to help everyone come to a happy ending; he could see that yearning in her eyes. He recognized it from having seen the same thing reflected once in Peg's eyes, in Kim's eyes. Beautiful—meaning normal-- people wanted to strive to make sure the misfortunate were just as lucky as they were.

He'd learned from experience that their dreams were rarely realized.

"I came looking for Erik… I'll go find him." He murmured, starting to back out of the room. Raoul looked pleased at his action, Christine looked dismayed.

"But they'll arrest you if they find you."

Edward smiled back at her with a gentle hopelessness in his gaze.

"I've been there before. It's not so bad."

His creator's good etiquette books had always said that lying was a terrible habit and no right-thinking gentleman would ever engage in it, but Edward thought it would be all right just this once. She looked so dismal and forlorn, even when her brave husband stood next to her like a masthead.

He walked out of the performance hall calmly, feeling a tinge of pride in himself for the defiance of the etiquette books' instructions about lying. It was small but there was something intoxicating in it. Of course, his possessiveness in dealing with Kim had been something never mentioned in the books, but that was another matter all together.

As he pushed open the door, he felt a snowflake drift to his nose. It was snowing, something he hadn't realized before. And apparently Erik was out running around in it with the police on his trail. Edward was about to turn and follow the direction the freshest tracks led when a blur of gold caught his eye.

A blur of gold wrapped in a white cape, like a fluffy angel.

It wasn't Erik, which went without saying.

But it was someone that Edward knew far too well and couldn't bear not staring at. He opened his mouth to call out but felt a whoosh of air at his side before he could. He managed to half-turn to face the intruder before he heard the soft hiss.

"We must leave Paris immediately."

"But—" Edward was not given to protesting, but he had just seen Kim! Was he to abandon her without even having spoken to her after their long absence? But Erik knew nothing of Kim or Edward's emotions, only that they must move and they must move now. Eyebrows knit in indecision over his dark eyes, Edward looked hopelessly in Kim's direction as she rounded the corner without having seen him. His black-cloaked companion was growing impatient.

"Come, we'll make slow enough going as it is without delays."

Edward forced his legs to follow, his body to turn and follow Erik's stormy path through the snow. The phantom kept talking, voice dark and heated.

"I've secured a lawyer's services; a drunkard but there is worth in him. Christine and her precious husband await Javert's return with bated breath no doubt, but the inspector will be hounding about the city for a while longer before he gives up." Abruptly noticing his companion's hesitance to move, Erik looked back at him.

"We don't have time to dally."

"That was Kim…" Edward muttered darkly. Erik hesitated, half of his face looking vaguely surprised while the mask half betrayed only an enigmatic scowl. Edward wondered which the man's true emotion was.

"I always assumed you were American in origin. Anyway, you cannot betray yourself to her or the police will find you and kill you. You've said as much yourself."

"I would find it worth it for her, if it didn't cause her such trouble."

"'Let pale death come as her kin and I'll greet it as a bosom friend for her sake.'" Erik mused. "It should be in an opera."

"I'm not a lyricist." Edward murmured, still pining over Kim's face beneath the swirl of gold hair. She was the golden haired counterpart to Christine, if Erik knew that, he could understand.

And sympathize.

What Edward failed to grasp was that those whom the world despises are little given to sympathy.

The black-cloaked phantom pressed onwards, silently cursing the appearance of Kim. Her memory would slow Edward down and they wouldn't make it out of Paris by nightfall. They could return to the theatre, if the police weren't still there, but it was too great a chance. Where could they hide? Erik hadn't been out of the theatre's confines to search for a living place in so long…

"Where are we going?" Edward asked sullenly. Obviously seeing Kim had deadened his usual perceptive demeanor, otherwise he might have realized his companion was contemplating that exact question with increasing frustration.

Erik didn't reply, looking across the street, hoping he'd see something useful. A pub, a group of private homes, a dilapidated hotel… the hotel might be promising, but it was the first place the police would check. He closed his eyes, head pounding. This was far too hard to fathom on an empty stomach and an unhealthy constitution; in addition to being chased by the police for alleged accusations of a crime that had taken place months ago.

The phantom turned to speak to Edward, to ask the scissor-handed man if he had any friends in the city (now there was a vain hope), and found him gone.

Perhaps he'd guessed that Erik didn't know where they were going and had left to find his own way. The other man's perceptivity could work both for and against him, Erik mused.

Snow was still falling, piling up gaily on rooftops, the streets, and Erik's cloak. The man's face turned sour with annoyance. Fine then, he'd find a hotel that was gullible enough to take a fistful of bills under the table in exchange for no questions asked. Yes, that was what he'd do.

Spinning on his heel, Erik started towards the darkened hotel when he felt the clink of metal on his shoulder, ripping his cloak.

Whirling away, he narrowly missed carving his face on the sharpened scissors. Edward was standing there, one 'hand' lifted where it had been set on Erik's shoulder. His eyes wide like two pieces of coal in a snowman's face, mouth open slightly in surprise.

"I…"

"What are you doing?!" Erik demanded, shocked by the man's appearance

"Are you all right?"

"Of course I'm all right, what are you doing?" Erik said, calming himself slightly, tugging the torn portion of his cloak up to cover his shoulder. Edward allowed himself a slight smile and said hesitantly, like a child who thinks he has good news for his parent but isn't sure:

"Kim will let us stay with her."

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I like this chapter. Hee