Chapter 12
"You seem distracted today, Katherine," Erik commented, not looking up from his work. Again he was slaving over the mask.
Katherine had carefully kept her eyes still and downcast all morning, afraid that a single movement would send unshed tears spilling down her cheeks. She'd gone to see Belle that morning again, and Belle's parents, though unintentionally, confirmed Katherine's fears. Madame Durand's overly cheerful façade didn't stop a sob from escaping every now and then, and Monsieur Durand's silence proved eloquent enough. Belle was dying.
"It's nothing to concern yourself over," Katherine said blankly, careful not to let a trace of emotion show, lest it trigger an avalanche of sorrow.
Erik looked up, worried. He'd never heard Katherine's voice take on such apathy, such coldness, before. "Regardless, it is obviously bothering you very much."
"It's..." Katherine hesitated. "Belle," she finished, turning around hurriedly, so that her back was to Erik. The avalanche had been triggered.
"Belle? Is she the one who came down here with you when... that night?"
Katherine willed her voice steady, or at least as steady as she could render it. "Belle's very sick," she choked. "She's... she's... dying," Katherine sputtered. "Her mother said the doctor didn't know what was wrong. She's hopelessly and completely lost!" she cried. The doctor was obviously the work of the Vicomte, as Belle's parents could never afford a doctor.
Erik was taken aback by this sudden show of emotion. Katherine was usually so calm and collected, baring the angry outburst she exulted when Erik confronted her after her long absence. Worse yet, he had no idea how to comfort the crying woman. He hadn't much experience in that area.
Something tugged at his heartstrings as he watched her. An emotion welled up inside of him that he'd never felt before, indeed, the name of it escaped him. But he was suddenly prepared to do anything for Katherine. He would go to the ends of the earth to make her happy again. The only thing he could think to do was to heal poor Belle himself. He stood, making a spur of the moment decision. He grabbed a small, leather valise off of a chair in a corner. This particular valise was full of vials of herbal extracts and powders.
Katherine, who was turned around choking on her own sobs, was unaware of this.
Katherine was shocked when Erik told her what he was going to do.
"When did you study medicine?" she asked.
Erik closed his eyes at the memory. "Living with gypsies did have its benefits," was all he said. Katherine didn't press. "But I must see her, or else we run the risk of her dying from the cure before the sickness."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Katherine asked, suddenly lively and dry faced again.
Erik hesitated. He didn't think everything out. The first and most difficult hurdle was getting into the house. Without a mask, the prospect of his entry to the house was crushed. He was sure no one in their right minds would allow him into their house of their own volition. The second problem was explaining how Katherine just suddenly came upon a doctor who agreed to help for nothing.
"There are a few flaws in the plan," Erik said carefully.
"We can think of something on the way!" Katherine cried. "Every second is a second closer to... We have to go!"
Erik grabbed a cloak and draped a generous portion of it over the right side of his face. Katherine was right. Time was precious and they were wasting it.
Raoul blinked hard in the unexpected flood of daylight and rubbed the awful kink in his neck. His back ached terribly as he sat upright on the bench and attempted to work out the stiffness.
"Oh, pardon me, monsieur, I didn't mean to wake you. I was not aware that you had spent the night at the piano."
Leprit, the footman, had just entered the room to draw the drapes, and was somewhat startled by the presence of his waking master.
"Shall I have your breakfast brought now?" he offered.
"No, I couldn't eat anything."
Raoul was too restless to sit down to a morning meal. He had no trouble remembering what had left him so distracted as to fall asleep in such an awkward position.
Belle. Belle was sick, was dying, and nothing could be done about it.
Cursing his ability to even fall asleep in the first place, Raoul shouldered his coat and once again sought comfort in the bustling atmosphere of the Parisian streets.
It wasn't long before he realized that he was nearing the Durands. Raoul hadn't intended to come this way, but his feet were taking him there, nonetheless. He was resigned to his fate, and happy to acquiesce, until he spied the tall, cloaked figure treading only two steps behind Katherine.
Mixed emotions of rage and confusion boiled up within him. Wasn't it enough that Erik had tried to kill him and frightened Christine into ending their betrothal? How far could one man go to exact revenge on another? And where was his sword when he really needed it?
Without pausing to consider the consequences, Raoul had Erik pinned against the wall with his hand at his throat before you could say, 'opera ghost.' Raoul knew he was no match for the man without his weapon, but if too much attention was drawn towards the scene, there was no doubt whose side the general passerby would take.
"What are you doing here!?" Raoul demanded, incensed to the point of blurred judgment. "Why are you walking this way? As if..." he turned a wondering glance to Katherine who was momentarily paralyzed with shock, "As if you're leading him to Belle's home?"
"Because I am." Katherine recovered quickly and tried to pacify the enraged Vicomte. "He can help her. He has a cure."
There was no reply. Heated fury continued to course through Raoul's veins.
"Do you really think I'd bring him to Belle if I thought he was going to make her worse?"
Raoul weighed the possible risks in his mind. Every moment wasted was pure agony to Katherine.
"She's already dying," she murmured, "What do you have to lose by trusting him?"
Raoul noted that the man in his grasp made no attempt to fight back, and ever so slowly, he released his hold. "I'm coming with you, then."
Raoul kept his eyes fixed on Erik and tried to suppress the frightening mental image of his own, lifeless body being found by strangers in some dark alley.
"If I feel that you're threatening Belle or her family in any way, I will not hesitate to tell the police exactly where you are." Realizing that threats would be least likely to dissuade Erik from any harmful intentions, he added more collectedly, "Otherwise... you're secret's safe with me… for the moment."
"Since you're coming," Katherine said, "Could you tell the Durands that you've hired him as a special apothecary or something? It will give him more credibility than if I brought him myself."
"I could be recognized. Belle's parents might suspect..."
"No," Katherine reassured him. "All the stories are about monsters, remember? And with Raoul vouching for you, they'll never suspect a thing."
Marie looked quizzically at the small crowd outside her door.
Raoul cleared his throat, "I've found someone who may be able to help Belle."
"Bring him in," Albert hoarsely commanded from within.
Trembling with new hope, Marie brought them all inside, paying special attention to the stranger in the cloak.
"Please, take off your cloak and come nearer to the fire."
Before Erik could protest, Mme. Durand had removed the warm cloak and wrap, and the only thing shielding his face from the entire household.
Erik grew unnaturally still. It was only a matter of seconds before the screaming started, or the shouting, and perhaps only a minute before he would be thrown out.
"There was an accident at a hospital years ago. An unstable patient got loose in a storage room and---" Raoul started to explain. Katherine was impressed by his quick thinking.
Although Marie's face showed signs of curiosity, Erik sensed no repulsion or fear from the woman or her husband.
"Never mind that," Marie cut him off, "You think you can help our Belle?"
Erik was shocked. For perhaps the third time in his life he wasn't turned away because of his face. Had he miscalculated his assumptions? "Yes, but I shall have to see her. To be sure what I have in mind will be effective," Erik said. "There are certain instances where the cure can do more damage than the disease, if the disease is misdiagnosed,"
Marie nodded and moved toward her daughter, "She's here. The doctor's given up on her, so if there's anything you can do..."
Erik stooped to reach Belle, keeping a safe distance so as not to startle or frighten her by his sudden appearance. Belle moaned and turned at the touch on her shoulder. Her eyes opened a little and she smiled. She didn't scream, swoon, or even draw back in fear, but smiled. These Durands certainly were strange people, but Erik liked them.
"You came out," she murmured listlessly. "It's easy to get lost in the dark, isn't it? Especially when there are so many levers."
"What is she saying?" Marie asked.
"She's delirious," Erik said. "She doesn't know what she's saying."
Raoul watched these goings on breathlessly, his attention absorbed by every movement Erik made.
"What's wrong?" Marie questioned him. "You have no faith in your friend?"
Raoul could have laughed at the irony, were it not for the present circumstances. At Marie's words, he attempted to hide his worry. "No, it isn't that. I'm sure he knows the risks."
After several minutes, Erik nodded his head. Without bothering to explain the gesture, he reached into his bag and pulled out a small vial of azure liquid. "Extract of the Halrigae plant," he explained. "The only plant that grows underground, found in the sub-zero temperatures of Northern Russia. Completely effective for the sort of illness that your daughter is stricken with," Erik did not see the need to tell the girl's mother, Katherine, or the Vicomte de Chagny for that matter, that Halrigae extract was extremely poisonous and only worked so well because it killed everything, including the patient. Erik pulled out a second vial, this one swirling with orange. "Give this to her three days after she takes the Halrigae. I cannot impart to you how absolutely... necessary this bottle of orange liquid is to Belle's survival." It was the antidote.
"I will not forget. Three days,"
"It will get worse before it gets better," Erik warned. "Much worse. She will begin to convulse about three hours after she swallows the Halrigae. Her fingernails will blacken, and blood vessels will start to burst in her arms and legs, giving her the look of being perpetually bruised. Her eyes will begin to pale out. She will cry out for water, but you must not under any circumstances give her any. Do you understand? It will kill her.
"The convulsions and the thirst will only last for twenty four hours, at which time she will slip into a sort of dormant sleep. At this time, you may give her water. It will no longer hurt her. She will burn with a fever beyond anything you could imagine. Her skin will flush red, and her eyes will twitch under their lids. Her breathing and heartbeat will slow. I will not lie. At that point, she will be only inches away from death. Inches. After the three days are up, give her the orange liquid and her fever will drop, and she will wake up from her sleep as if she had never been ill. Again, it is absolutely imperative that you give her the orange vial on the third day."
The room was silent.
"Shall I give her the Halrigae now?" Erik asked.
Madame Durand nodded, slightly horror struck.
"You have an unpleasant night ahead of you," he said, uncorking the bottle and pouring it into Belle's mouth. She swallowed instinctively.
Erik rose from the floor and set the orange liquid on the mantle. Marie's eyes glistened with tears, and without warning, she embraced Erik and thanked him fervently. Katherine winced in apprehension, but Erik was caught off guard and far too stunned to react. He'd just poisoned the woman's daughter and practically told her as much. Yet here she was...
Perhaps she hadn't understood.
"That vial on the mantle..."
"Yes, I understand. I won't lose, or forget it. You can be sure of that."
"I'll see you two out," Raoul said to Erik and Katherine.
Madame Durand looked intrigued.
"Dr. de L'enfant promised to show me his plant collection," Katherine said by way of explanation.
"Three days of suffering," Raoul muttered darkly once safely outside of the Durand's house.
"Medicine isn't magic," Erik said frigidly. "There isn't a book of spells, or a magic wand you can wave. Sacrifices must be made."
"If I catch even a whiff of foul play... if I think for even a second that you have lied to us all to hurt Belle..."
"Do you think I would sink so low to exact revenge on you?"
"I don't know what you would do," Raoul hissed.
Katherine sighed and didn't resist the urge to roll her eyes a little. She shot a warning glance at Raoul whose arms were crossed in consternation.
"There are much easier ways for me to have my revenge," Erik stated coolly, almost exultantly. "Besides, how was I to know you were in love with the girl?" he scoffed in disdain, "You nobles are all the same. In love for a day, and out of it by the next morning. Is your little passion for Christine over already? Or are you not satisfied until you've won them all?"
Raoul's hand fingered his waist in search for his weapon. Bitterly, he clenched his teeth to stop the oath about to escape his lips. "You speak of matters you know nothing about! You chased her away, and she begged me not to follow!"
"As if that would deter--"
"Stop it, both of you!" Katherine exclaimed, feeling much like a mother trying to solve a spat between two squabbling children. "This has nothing to do with... Wait," she paused. "Follow her where?"
Raoul exhaled slowly, "She's gone to England with Philippe, but it was none of my doing. I haven't even seen her since... since the last time we all saw her."
Katherine took a moment to let this register. "But if she's gone with Philippe, that means you... she..." Raoul's face told her the rest.
"I'm sure it'll soon be the talk of the town," he muttered.
As sorry as she felt for the Vicomte, Katherine couldn't help but think of what this meant for Belle. Although she'd picked the absolute worst time to be deathly ill.
Lingering in the thought that they now shared a similar pain, Raoul's animosity towards Erik began to subside a little. "I know you probably wish you would have finished the job in the lair, and I don't know why I care what you think of me, but I'm neither fickle, nor unfaithful," he said. "You can't blame me for clinging to the last bit of hope I have left for happiness. I do know the dangers you risked in coming here today, and for Belle's sake, I thank you.
"If this doesn't kill her..." Raoul trailed off and looked up at the door before continuing, "She won't be the only one I'll feel indebted to."
Raoul let his words sink in a little before nodding to Katherine and bidding her a good day. He left without another word, leaving Erik and Katherine alone on a street full of strangers.
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.