Thank you for your reviews of CH 5. Erik's Ghost, I'm sorry that I cannot respond to your reviews personally, since you are reviewing as a guest, but those are very good questions. All will be answered in the course of the story-some sooner than later. :)

6.

Jenna closed the book she was holding in her hands after having read the same paragraph about five times and still not knowing for certain what it was about. Though the masked man had tried to make her comfortable when he stepped out, supposedly to get her some clothes, she was anything but relaxed in this strange, windowless home. Yes, for all of its elegant beauty, Jenna had finally realized the home was without windows. Absolutely no natural light made its way into the rooms, the only illumination coming from the flickering glow of candles, and the flames in the fireplace. It was at once both warm and creepy, but without the company of the masked man-Erik, he said his name was-the balance was definitely leaning in favor of creepy. Strange that the company of an ornery masked man-who was most likely crazy as a loon-served to dispel some of the gloom of the dark surroundings, but Jenna found that without him, she could hardly stand being in this room at all.

She glanced around the room again, until her eyes fell upon the lake. When she had walked through the door into this strange place, she remembered she had been by water. If she followed the lake's path now, would it lead her back to the door? Would she be able to find her way out of this place, and somehow get home?

Jenna brought her legs around so that they touched the floor. Gingerly, she began to stand up. Her ankle screamed in pain, but she found that if she leaned most of her weight on her other leg, she was able to stand. She took a step, keeping her arms out to steady herself. She was still standing. She took another one. Even though it was very uncomfortable, Jenna found that she was able to walk, as long as she favored her injured leg. Slowly, very slowly, she made her way to the lake. As she got close to the shore, she remembered to take a candle from one of the candelabras to provide some much needed light.

The candle cast an eerie glow on the green water of the lake. She watched the ripples on the water as the lake flowed in the direction of the cavern in which she had been found. Jenna hobbled along with the lake, wondering if it was somehow fed by the Hudson. If so, she couldn't be that far from home. Certainly not in Paris!

She continued on into the cavern. The farther away she got from the little sitting room with the settee and grand piano, the more difficult the terrain. The ground was rocky and uneven, and there was less and less of it, as the lake began to widen. It was no wonder to her that she had tripped immediately upon emerging from the door, but, holding her candle out before her, and peering further into the cavern, she could not see actually see the door. No, the cavern seemed to go on for a while longer, until the roof of the cave just appeared to join with the floor, the lake slipping out a small opening to continue on its watery journey.

"No," she murmured to herself. "There was a door," she took a few more steps forward, her head beginning to throb. "There was a tunnel, then a door." Her voice began to rise, and become a little dismayed. "Where's the door?" She started moving forward a little faster than she should have, groping aimlessly, searching for the door which she was sure she should have found by now. When she heard a voice echoing down the cavern from the direction of the sitting room, she startled, and fell, with a scream, into the lake.

XXXXXXXXXX

Nadir heard the scream and knew that someone was in the cave. "Erik!" he called, rushing toward the cavern. "Erik!" A loud splash, followed by the sounds of a water struggle and cries for help were the only answers he got. "My God!" Nadir said to himself, eyes widening. "Erik is drowning the mental patient!"

Nadir ran toward the sound, grabbing a lantern from Erik's table. When he found the source of the noise, he saw the girl, quite alone, splashing wildly in the water.

"Mademoiselle," he called, "Take my hand." He crouched down carefully, on the narrow lakeshore and extended his arm out to her, pulling when he felt her grab on. When she was once again on the the ground, shivering and dripping wet, he put his hands on her shoulders to steady her, before asking, "Did Erik do this to you?"

The girl flinched backward a little bit, giving him a quizzical look. "NO! Why on earth would you ask that?"

"Well, I. . ." Nadir began, but allowed his sentence to trail off. No reason to taint her opinion of Erik with his more dangerous side if she had not yet seen it. Truly, he had been doing so much better since arriving in Paris. "No reason, Mademoiselle. What were you doing?"

She huffed in annoyance as the man changed the subject. "I was looking for the door." She said.

"In the lake?" Nadir asked, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

"NO, not in the lake!" she snapped in irritation. "I was walking along the lake shore, looking for the door, so I could get home, and I accidentally fell in."

"Which door, Mademoiselle?" he asked, still confused.

"The door I entered through." She insisted. "Or are you going to tell me it doesn't exist too?"

"I. . . do not know of any door. . ."

"Oh forget it!" She huffed, wrapping her arms around herself against the chill of the cavern.

"Come, Mademoiselle," Nadir said, gently nudging her in the direction of Erik's sitting room. "Let's get you back in front of the fire."

Jenna limped back toward Erik's parlor, the cold water having made walking on her bad ankle temporarily easier. When she made it back to the settee, she wrapped the throw around her now dripping form and sat back down.

"Where's Erik?" Nadir asked, looking around for the masked man that only moments ago he had been so sure was committing murder.

"He said something about going to get me some clothes." Jenna replied, in irritation.

"Ah, well," Nadir began with a smile, gesturing to her dripping clothes. "That will come in handy."

Jenna rolled her eyes. "I don't understand why he won't just let me go home."

Nadir raised his eyebrow. He and Erik had been so convinced that this girl was an escaped mental patient, they'd never even considered the possibility that she might have a home, and a family that was looking for her. "Do you live nearby, Mademoiselle?"

"Yes," she nodded, and then hesitated, "I mean I think so. . ."

She looked confused for a moment, and Nadir felt a great wave of pity for her. "Have you told Erik?"

She huffed and the confusion on her face was replaced by irritation again. Nadir smirked a little, thinking that it was fitting she should scowl at the mention of Erik's name. Everyone else did. "Yes, I told Erik!"

"And what did he say?" Nadir probed.

"He said that we were in Paris." She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Well, we are, Mademoiselle." Nadir answered, confused.

"Oh great. You too." Jenna let out a noisy sigh. "Erik sure seems to have been gone a long time," she said, pulling the blanket closer around her, and trying to huddle nearer to the fire.

"Well," Nadir agreed. "He does sometimes forget himself when he goes above. But since there is no performance tonight, I am sure he will be back soon."

"Goes above?" She repeated him in confusion. "Performance? What are you talking about?"

"Mademoiselle," Nadir smiled, his eyes sparkling. "Has Erik not told you where in Paris we are?"

"Daroga, I see you've returned." They heard a soft voice coming from the lake behind them.

Nadir and Jenna turned at the sound, only to see Erik walking from the shore carrying several dresses draped over his arm. When he arrived before them, he placed the dresses on the chair, and took one look at Jenna's dripping form before turning to Nadir and demanding, "Were you trying to drown our guest?"

Nadir held his hands up, as if in defense, beads of sweat running down his face. "Erik, I only helped her out of the lake, honestly." He reached into his pocket, grabbing his handkerchief, to wipe his brow. "I had nothing to do with how she got there in the first place."

Erik glared at Nadir before turning to Jenna. "And why, Mademoiselle, were you in the lake?"

"I. . ." she stumbled a bit over her words at the intensity of his gaze, "I fell in. I was looking for the door, and I. . ."

"Looking for the door?" Erik cut her off. "Do you mean to say that you went into the cavern alone? With your bad ankle?"

Jenna didn't like the tone in his voice. "Yes, I went into the cavern alone. It's not like I'm some helpless. . .invalid. . .who can't do anything for herself."

"And yet," he pointed out with a sarcastic smile, "you fell into the lake."

"That's because it was dark and the footing was uneven . . ." she began defensively.

"Which is exactly why," he cut her off, his voice raising angrily, "you should not have gone into the cavern alone searching for some door that I have told you doesn't . . . "

"Well, you weren't here!" she yelled, rising from the couch, her voice as loud as his now, meeting his gaze without reservation. "I was alone and it was dark. Do you have any idea what it's like to be left alone in the dark?"

Nadir was frozen as he watched the tense scene between the Erik and the girl. Once again, the mental patient had said perhaps the worst thing she could possibly have said. Erik knew better than anyone what it was like to be left alone in the dark. He had spent his entire childhood in a room with boarded up windows, locked away by a mother who couldn't abide his face. He had spent his young adult years retreating into shadows to hide from the ridicule and derision he faced from the pointing crowds at the gypsy fair. He had risen to prominence in the courts of Persia, by imparting the most twisted forms of torment in the bleak torture chambers he was forced to design—only to fall prey himself to the blackness of addiction. And here in Paris, he had learned to take solace in the obscurity of eternal night, seeking its comfort against the garish cruelties of light.

Erik stared at her in silence for a moment. When he answered her, his voice had fallen to a hushed whisper. "Indeed, Mademoiselle. I do."

In the moment Jenna saw the shock of indistinct emotion flicker in Erik's mismatched eyes, she knew that she had said something wrong. Being alone only for a short time in the candlelight and the shadows had seemed almost oppressive to her. But if this was his home, then this must be his life.

"Erik," she said in a penitent voice, reaching out for his hand. "I'm sorry."

Erik looked down at where her hand touched his. No one had willingly just taken his hand before. Yes, she had clasped his hand when he had helped her up, but this touch was freely given, and it felt so different. The awareness of it had almost caused him to miss the fact that she also used his name, another thing that few—other than the Daroga—ever did.

Erik cleared his throat and extricated his hand from her grasp. "Did you further aggravate your ankle, Mademoiselle, in your travels through the cavern?" he asked, still not looking at her.

Now that the cold of the lake water was wearing off, Jenna could feel her ankle beginning to ache again, but she wasn't going to complain, since she knew it was entirely her own fault. "I'm fine."

"Of course," Erik returned, and the half of his mouth that was unobstructed by the mask turned up in a small smile. "Well, since you are now dripping all over my rug, perhaps you would like to take this opportunity to enjoy that bath you had asked about and change into some dry clothing?"
Jenna felt her own mouth turn into a smile. "Yes, Erik, thank you." She hobbled over to the chair where he had left the pile of clothes, quickly going through them. After rifling through the entire pile of unfamiliar clothing, she looked up once again and asked in confusion. "Gowns and corsets? Really? Could you not find any jeans or t-shirts?"

Nadir looked at Erik questioningly. Erik met his gaze and, shaking his head, muttered, "Mental patient."

XXXXXXXXXX

The doctor watched as Jenna shifted and flailed in her hospital bed, even making some soft moaning sounds. He knew that sometimes coma patients experienced these involuntary movements, and that it did not mean they were any closer to waking up, but he couldn't help being hopeful. These were the first movements he had seen from Jenna since she'd come in. He would take them.

"That's right, Miss Wilson," he said, encouragingly, "Get angry. Fight your way back to us if you have to, but do come back to us." He watched her agitated movements a few moments more before he reached out and gently took her hand. He couldn't help but smile when she reflexively squeezed his hand and held on. Her other movements ceased, and she was peaceful once more, but she did not release his hand. He reached out with his other hand and smoothed her strawberry blond curls away from her face. "Please come back." He whispered again, as her mouth relaxed into a serene expression. "For me."

Well, jumping in the lake didn't work! Ha ha! It's a good thing Nadir was there to play lifeguard. I bet Jenna can't wait to change out of those wet clothes, even if she does think Erik has a bit of a strange fashion sense! Please review, and I'll try to convince Erik to steal you a dress!