The candlestick Erik held fell to the ground with a clank. He saw Meg's wild eyes as she watched Martine crumple to the floor. Erik should have been happy to see the little whelp fall unconscious at his feet, but all he could think about was making sure Meg was safe.
For a moment she grew frighteningly calm. Her line of sight fell on Erik's shoes and then traveled up his torso. As their eyes met, her body began to shake with silent sobs. He ran to kneel by her side, loosening the gag and sliding it around her neck. His fingers slipped on the crude knots that bound her wrists.
When the bindings finally fell free, she dove into him; burying her face in his chest. He cocooned her in his arms so tightly it was a wonder that she could breath.
And so they stayed, her tiny frame trembling within his hold.
"Oh, my sweet little Meg." Erik murmered with a cheek against her head. "This is a pain I do not know how to soothe."
She said nothing; but after a few minutes her sobs began to abate.
"I trusted him." She sniffled in his arms. "I thought I knew him, but it was all a lie."
Erik buried his face deeper in her hair. If only he'd found her sooner. If only he hadn't let Martine steal her away on the dance floor. His mind screamed at him a thousand reasons why this was all his fault. "I'm sorry, my love. I'm so very sorry."
"... my love..." Meg echoed back, but the words were hollow and emotionless. Limb by limb, she unfolded from his embrace. She seemed lost in thought, speaking slowly as if grasping at the words. "I trusted him and he betrayed me. I trust you... but you hide the truth from me. Is there no one I can have faith in?"
"You can trust me, Meg." Erik swore to her, enveloping her limp hands in his. "I would never harm you."
Her weary eyes flitted to meet his. "Show me then. Let me know the truth."
Erik's pulse thrummed nervously in his throat, but he did his best not to look away. "You have already experienced one horror tonight. Why do you want to subject yourself to another?"
She looked at him pleadingly, and offered the one debate he could not argue. "Please..."
Every facet of his psyche yelled at him to walk away. It told him that no good would come of this. It reminded him that no one had ever been able to accept what he truly was. And yet his heart insisted foolishly that this time could be different.
With a sigh that held the hurt of an entire lifetime, Erik raised one of Meg's hands. He brought it up to cup his porcelain cheek, gently guiding her fingers under the edge of the mask.
Together they slowly raised the white veil.
Every second passed as a separate eternity in Erik's mind as she beheld everything that he was. He watched as a fresh wave of tears crested on the oceans of her aqua eyes.
"Thank you." She breathed, almost too quietly to hear.
In the distance, a muffled voice spoke from behind the closed door. "Meg? Are you alright? I heard strange noises." Meg gasped and spun around to face it.
Erik heard the sound of the knob turning. He seized his mask and darted for the mirror. It closed behind him just as Meg's friend Annette stepped into the room. He watched through the one-way glass as she nearly slipped on the giant pool of blood that haloed Martine's ashen face.
As he ran down the corridor to the Persian's office, Annette's hysterical scream followed.