"Don't you remember?" Erik asked quietly.
"No," Mia whispered, wrapping her arms around herself, still in shock. "No, I never do."
Mia stared at Erik with a look of horror. Nobody knew about Amelia, nobody. Not her mother, not Raoul, not even Gaston. Both she and Amelia were well aware of the consequences of anyone knowing. She'd be locked away in an asylum, and her family would never be able to get rid of the shame. And now the man who had kidnapped her had the information. He could hold that over her now. They both knew she couldn't allow this information to get out, and Mia knew she would be willing to do nearly anything to keep anyone else from learning about Amelia.
Just then, Mia realized something else. She had blacked out. She didn't know what had happened when Amelia had taken over. Amelia could have done anything, said anything. Her jaw dropped as she thought of what that could mean. "What did she say?" Mia demanded.
Erik let out a sigh. "Mia..." he started softly.
"What did Amelia say?" she shouted in desperation.
"Shhh," he said softly, trying to soothe her. "Just calm down."
She wouldn't have it. Mia was frantic. She needed to know how much damage had been caused by her other half. "Tell me!" she screamed.
He exhaled slowly as he ran his hand through his hair. "She said enough," Erik said finally.
Mia felt weak in the knees. She grabbed the wall to stay on her feet. Her head was spinning. That could mean anything. Amelia could have told him everything about their past. And with a pounding heart, Mia realized Amelia could have told Erik about how she felt about him. "Oh my God," she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. "Oh my God." She had never felt more vulnerable. Not only did Erik know all of her deepest, darkest secrets, but now it was highly likely that he knew that she was developing feelings for him. Even though he had kidnapped her, Erik was the first man Mia had ever started to have an attraction to, which meant he had the ability to hurt her in ways she had never felt before.
Suddenly, Mia felt Erik's hands on her upper arms, what was supposed to be a comforting touch. "Mia, if you'd just let me explain..."
"No," Mia said, beginning to hyperventilate. "No, no, no." Everything was spinning and her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. She was beginning to feel disoriented, and everything was happening so fast.
"You need to calm down Mia," she could hear Erik say, but he sounded so far away. "You need to breathe or you're going to..." Mia didn't hear him finish his sentence before everything went black.
Erik caught Mia in his arms as she collapsed. She had managed to work herself into a panic attack, which led to her fainting. It appeared as though neither Mia nor Amelia would be making appearance anytime soon; she was out cold. He sighed softly and carefully picked her up to get her back down to the lair. Why couldn't his life be simple for once?
As he carried her back downstairs, Erik's mind couldn't have been farther from his original plan of luring the Vicomte here. Instead he was focused on Mia. The poor girl wasn't coping well with her life, somehow leading to the formation of Amelia. There had to be some way to help her, some way to cure her.
When he reached the shore of the lake back at the lair, Erik scooped her up out of the boat and brought her over to the bed, laying her down gently. He smoothed her hair and stood over her for a moment. There was a lot they needed to discuss when she woke.
After a few minutes of him pacing beside her, Erik noticed Mia was beginning to stir. Or, at least he hoped it was Mia. If Amelia had resumed control, he was back to square one. She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes, before gaze settled on him. Her eyes widened and she scooted backwards, afraid to be near him. "Mia…" Erik said softly, extending his hands as if to show that he wasn't going to hurt her. "I just want to talk."
"Talk about what?" she demanded.
"Isn't it obvious?" Erik replied. Mia buried her face in her hands, and he noticed she was shaking. He adopted a softer tone before continuing with, "How long has there been both you and Amelia?"
"I don't know," she all but sobbed. "My blackouts I can remember having since I was ten, when my mother sent me away, but I was fourteen when I began to figure it out. I had cut myself for the first time then fainted, but I could hear the physician tell my mother that I had attacked a maid with the razor and had attacked him as well. But I knew that wasn't me! I don't hurt anyone but myself! My blackouts became more and more frequent, and people began to refer to things I didn't remember saying or doing. I began to keep a journal to see if that would help me, but I noticed that during the blackouts, my journal entries were different. The words didn't sound like me, but more importantly, the handwriting wasn't mine!"
Erik was both fascinated and horrified. He had never heard of anything like this. You might be beyond help, Erik thought, but when Mia buried her face in her hands, began to cry, and whispered "I know," over and over again, he realized he had voiced his thoughts aloud.
Instantly he regretted saying that. Mia's psyche was damaged enough, and honestly, Erik realized he couldn't stand seeing her cry. "Listen to me," he said softly, as he sat beside her. "I'm going to do whatever I can to help you."
"You said so yourself, I can't be helped."
He fell quiet, deep in thought, trying to come up with a way to make up for his harsh words. "I've heard of a hospital, here in Paris, one that specializes in special circumstances like this, or so I've heard."
Mia's eyes widened. "The Pitié-Salpêtrière," she gasped. Erik nodded, not surprised she had heard of it. It was one of the largest and oldest hospitals in Paris, if not Europe. "No, no, no, I can't go there! I won't go there!"
"But if anyone can help you, they can," Erik protested.
"I can't go there!" Mia argued. "They know me! My family donates money to the Pitié-Salpêtrière! I've met some of the doctors there. They've been to parties at my house!"
Erik exhaled slowly. Mia was right. She couldn't go if they knew her. Not only would her secret get out, but odds were that when her husband and family learned of her condition, they'd have Mia put in an asylum, and from what Erik knew of asylums, Mia wouldn't survive. He ran his hand through his hair. "Maybe someone there has seen something like this before. Maybe somewhere they've got papers or something on how to treat this."
"Maybe," Mia agreed. "But even if they have, all the information would be at the Pitié-Salpêtrière."
"Yes," Erik admitted. "But I am the Phantom of the Opera. Getting in and out of places undetected is my specialty."
"Are you suggesting that you're going to break into the hospital?" Mia asked with wide eyes.
"Do you have any other ideas?" Mia shook her head. "I want to help you, Mia, I really do, but this is the only way I know how."
She stared at him with wide eyes, as if trying to decide if he was serious or not. "Be careful," she whispered.
Erik nodded before climbing into the boat. As he paddled away, Erik wondered why on earth she told him to be careful. Was she concerned about him? Or was she just concerned that she'd be trapped downstairs alone forever?
He was so busy dwelling on Mia's final words to him as he headed upstairs, Erik nearly ran into a person. "Antoinette!" he cried, stopping just short of knocking the ballet mistress over. "What on earth are you doing down here?"
"I want to talk to you about Meg."
"You know I remember our deal." After it had been announced that Opera Populaire was to be renovated and reopened, Madame Giry had come to Erik and threatened to reveal all of the hiding places, or at least the ones she knew about (which was a fair few more than Erik would like), if he came near her daughter.
Antoinette crossed her arms. "Meg's been acting strange the past couple of days. She's been jumpy and is constantly looking over her shoulder like something is after her."
"It isn't me," Erik insisted. "I have more important things to do than follow a ballerina around all day, frightening her."
"Well I want you to find out who, or what, is bothering her."
Erik rolled his eyes. "Again, I have more important things to do than to follow a ballerina around all day."
"Do it for me, Erik."
"I don't owe you anything."
"You owe me your life!" Antoinette snapped. "I could have left you in that cage to be beaten to death, I could have left you on the streets to starve. This is the least you can do, especially after the Christine fiasco!"
He had forgotten Giry's temper, especially when her daughter was on the line. She was one of the few brave enough to stand up to him, and one of the fewer still that he allowed to live afterwards. "Fine," he snarled, pushing past her, but turned and looked back at Antoinette. "I'll keep an eye on Meg for you. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got an errand to run."
Oooh things are going to get interesting now aren't they? Now, I'd like to thank Filhound, who very kindly gave me some great information on Multiple Personality Disorder, especially in the nineteenth century. She was the one who told me about the Pitié-Salpêtrière, which is a legit hospital in Paris and did specialize in a lot of mental disorders back then, so it would be an actual place for Erik to turn to for help for Mia. I hope you guys enjoyed. Read and Review.
~nibblesfan