Chapter 10

"It's getting very late," Erik said. "Will you be alright walking home? Paris is a dangerous place after the sun goes down,"

Katherine was touched by his concern. "I've walked in the dark before. I'll be fine,"

"Will you be back tomorrow?"

"Unless you don't want me to,"

"No, come. I find I've come to enjoy your company,"

"Then I'll be here,"

"Promise me that you'll be careful on the way home,"

"I promise," Katherine said.

"I would rather you didn't walk," Erik scooped up several Franc pieces off of a table and held them out in his hand. "Take this and get yourself a carriage,"

Katherine refused the Francs. "Keep them. I'll be fine,"

Erik made a sound like he was going to protest, but he didn't say anything.

The sky was completely dark when Katherine emerged from the Opera Populaire. She opted on the quickest route home because walking in the dark always made her slightly nervous, but only slightly.
The sound of her own feet striking against the pavement kept her company on her walk home, but soon she noted a subtle difference in the sound. She fancied she heard a second set of footsteps, in tune with her own. She shook her head. It was just the darkness toying with her mind. Nevertheless, she increased her speed. The footsteps also sped up. Katherine's heart began to pound just a little bit faster. Again she sped up, and again the following footsteps followed suit.

Katherine swore she heard the swishing of a cloak. This did nothing to calm her nerves, and it took every ounce of will power she possessed not to break out into a dead run.

After what seemed like hours, Katherine finally came upon the shop. She fumbled in her pocket for the key and shakily unlocked the door. She slipped in quickly, and bolted the lock behind her.

The next morning, after washing and eating some breakfast, Katherine opted to go visit Belle. Katherine could scarce remember the last time she'd seen Belle alone. Her suddenly overprotective father hadn't allowed Katherine to go anywhere by herself.

Katherine stepped out into the cool morning air, plotting the quickest course to Belle's house in her mind. She felt better now that the sun was out. Next time someone offers me money for a carriage, I'm going to take it. she thought. She was reminded of the concern that Erik showed for her, and was buried in her thoughts.

Before Katherine even knew it, she was standing outside of the familiar doorway of the Durand's house. She raised her hand and knocked.

Madame Durand opened the door. Her usually cheery face was creased with worry and exhaustion.

"Is Belle at home?" Katherine asked tentatively, sensing something wrong. She hoped it wasn't Belle's father.

"Belle's ill," Madame Durand said.

"Ill?" Katherine asked, taken aback.

"Very ill. It came on very suddenly... she was fine yesterday and now she's got a fever out of this world. She's delusional. She keeps muttering to herself about levers and boats... I can hardly make sense of it,"

"M-may I see her?" Katherine asked quietly.

"Of course," Madame Durand said, stepping back and opening the door wider. Katherine stepped in.

"Good morning, Katherine," Monsieur Durand said tiredly.

"Good morning," Katherine replied quietly.

Madame Durand led Katherine through the narrow stairway and into Belle's room.

Belle was asleep. Her white face was a sharp contrast to her mass of dark hair. A thin sheen of sweat covered her face, but she was shivering. She had dark circles under her eyes. In short, Belle looked like death had tapped her on the shoulder.

"She looks... she looks so..." Katherine stuttered.

"She'll be okay," Madame Durand said quietly, almost sadly. "She's a strong girl,"

"What's the matter?" Erik asked upon seeing Katherine's face. He set aside the piece of white leather he was fitting over the mold of a face and regarded her carefully. He could sense something was wrong.

"It's nothing to worry yourself over. Just the petty worries of a young woman," Katherine said.

Erik took up his work again, not believing for a second that it was nothing, but not wanting to pry.

"What are you making?" Katherine asked, watching as Erik shaped the leather.

"Another mask," he answered.

"Why?"

"Because I am a monster,"

"I don't believe in monsters," Katherine said.

"Christine did," Erik said quietly, anguished.

"Let her go, Erik. Christine was blind. She never would have seen you,"

"Don't ever say anything against her," Erik said icily. His tone was venomous, and Katherine sensed danger.

"There's more to life than what might have been," she said.

"What might have been is all I have. What can the future hold for me? All I have left are my dreams,"

"That's not true," Katherine protested. "You have me."

"But for how long?"

"As long as you need me."

Katherine's stomach let off a loud growl. It was late in the afternoon, and she hadn't had anything to eat since that morning. Her cheeks flushed red for a second.

"Hungry?" Erik asked, looking up from his work.

"Slightly," Katherine said.

"I'm afraid I'm out of anything edible. I was going to pick something up last night when I was out, but since I didn't have a mask, I decided against it,"

"I can run home and get something to bring back for the both of us,"

"I will be fine, but you're welcome to go and get something for yourself,"

"I'll be back as soon as I can, then," Katherine said.

Even with the sun shining, the February air was chilling. Katherine was thankful for the warm woolen gown she was wearing as she bustled down the street.

"Mademoiselle?" Someone called from behind her as she walked.

Raoul had seen Katherine pattering along the street and recognized her as the other girl from the lair. He'd been anxious to speak with her ever since Belle said they'd decided together to venture into the lair, but now that he had the chance, there were more pressing matters on his mind.

"You are Belle's friend, Katherine, am I right?"

"Yes," Katherine replied, wondering what could be so important to the Vicomte de Chagny that he would stop her in the middle of the street.

"You seem to be in a hurry, so I won't keep you for long. Have you seen her recently?"

Katherine nodded solemnly, "She's sick, you know."

"No, I didn't. I thought she was staying away from me because she was still angry." Katherine wasn't exactly sure what he was talking about.

"How sick is she?"

Seeing the concern in the sincerity of his question, Katherine took it as a good sign in Belle's favor. She did her best to keep him concerned, which wasn't difficult, considering.

"Sick enough to die. Her parents try to pretend it's nothing serious for their own sakes, but they're really very worried. Especially after what happened to Claire."

Raoul was stunned for a moment. Belle couldn't die! He needed her now to tell him Christine was a silly fool and he'd made the right decision in letting her go. He needed her to look at him with those sweet, patient eyes and sigh in sad agreement whilst he poured out his sorrows. And maybe, just maybe, to fill some of the void Christine had left in his heart.

"Would they let me see her, do you think?"

Katherine shrugged, "I can't see why they'd refuse you."

Raoul thought a moment before replying. "Thank you," he nodded. "Good day, Mademoiselle."

"Monsieur."

Phantom of the Opera and the characters therein belong to Gaston Leroux.
The musical film version and general foundation for this phanfic belong to Andrew Lloyd Webber.
Phanfic co-written by Beth and Kit.