Erik slipped through the streets of Paris, silent and unnoticed. The sun had set about an hour before, and the streets were nearly empty. He hoped that meant a majority of the hospital's staff would be gone for the night. Even though Erik was well aware it wasn't going to be completely empty (it was a hospital after all), he was counting on the smaller number of people up and working to stay in the patient wings and away from the offices where files were most likely kept.

As soon as the Pitié-Salpêtrière Hospital came into view, Erik swore under his breath. He had known the hospital was big, it was one of the largest in Europe, but he hadn't realized it was going to be this big. With a sinking heart, Erik realized he could very possibly need to search the entire premises, a task that could take several days, for information that may or may not exist on a condition that may or may not have even been discovered, let alone named or studied.

"What the hell have you gotten yourself into?" Erik asked himself with a sigh as he finally located the psychiatric ward of the hospital. "If you get caught, you'll have managed to earn yourself a one-way ticket to the gallows. You're risking everything for a de Chagny. It would have just been easier if you had wrung her neck when you had the chance."

He was quick to locate a window that lead into a dark room and slip into the building, not wanting to stay out in the open any longer than necessary and risk being discovered. As soon as he was inside Erik exhaled slowly, glad his carelessness hadn't landed him in the middle of a room full of patients. He had been so focused on getting out of the open, he hadn't really processed the fact that there could be people anywhere inside.

Once he had gotten over his stupidity, Erik checked his surroundings. He had luckily managed to pick a window that led to a room that looked like a physician's examination room. Over in the corner was a set of drawers. Erik ripped them open and began to rummage through, but instead of files like he had hoped, it was just medical equipment. Swearing under his breath, he slammed the drawer shut; there was nothing in here that was of use to him.

Using much more caution than what he had breaking in, Erik silently opened the door and entered the dark hall. He hoped that meant this area was done being used for the day and that meant he'd be undisturbed until he found whatever information he could. But he swore yet again when he saw how long the corridor stretched on. If he couldn't find what he was looking for, Erik could be here all night.

Hours passed agonizingly slowly as Erik made his way through each room, tearing each one apart, skimming through any files, papers, or notes he could find with little success. It didn't help he had no idea how rare Mia's condition was or what it was even called, and it certainly didn't help that every now and again the thought crossed his mind that what he was looking for was archived in a completely different wing, or worse, nonexistent.

Glancing out the window, Erik realized that the sun was rising. He had spent all night searching for some way to help Mia with nothing to show for it. Erik was frustrated, exhausted, and disappointed he hadn't found anything. Just as he was about to cut his losses and return home to Mia empty-handed, the door swung open behind him. Erik pressed himself against the wall as a man let himself into the office. Realizing he was trapped, Erik glanced wildly between the window and the door. There was no way he could get out the window without being spotted, and the intruder was between him and the door. But just before Erik was going to make a break for it, he realized that this man worked here. He quite possibly could help Erik find what he needed. Slowly, his hand made its way to the Punjab lasso on his hip.

Mia paced frantically. There was no way to tell time down here, and she had no idea how long Erik had been gone. It could have been only a few hours, but it felt like an eternity. She was completely panicked. If Erik was caught, he'd be imprisoned and most likely hanged for setting the Populaire on fire as well as the murders he had committed. And if that was the case, Mia would be trapped here until she either was able to find an escape route or starved to death.

She was trying to stay calm. She knew there had to be a thousand reasons Erik was taking so long. The hospital was several miles away, not to mention on the other side of the Seine, and as a result it would take him quite a while to get there and back. It was a massive complex too; it could take him hours to find any data, not to mention that neither of them knew what he was looking for.

But for every logical explanation she could come up with, a hint of doubt would creep into her mind. You could die here, a voice in the back of her mind hissed. "No!" Mia screamed, clamping her hands over her ears, but she couldn't silence a voice that was inside her head. She could feel herself beginning to panic; she was terrified of being trapped here forever.

The mirror, she realized. Erik had taken the boat when he left, but she now knew that the mirror could be opened and there was another way out. Mia ran to the mirror and began to look frantically for a switch, a lever, or some sort of mechanism to open it. Erik had gotten it open somehow, she just needed to repeat whatever he did to get out. The problem was, she didn't know what he did.

"Just let me out!" Mia screamed, pounding her fists against the glass. She knew she wasn't acting entirely rationally but she had been held captive for too long. Mia had given up the hope of rescue days ago, but she was afraid now that Erik was gone. At least he took relatively decent care of her. She had already lost her sense of control, her freedom, and even her sanity, she didn't need to lose the one slightly dependable thing in her life too. Yes Erik was volatile, but at least she was learning what caused an outburst. And if he didn't return, she could very well lose her life too.

Before the man was even aware of his presence, Erik had the Punjab lasso out and around his neck. "Don't move a muscle," Erik hissed, tugging on the lasso just enough to make sure that the man knew who was in charge.

The man's hands flew up to the noose, but there was no way he could pull it off. He was completely at Erik's mercy. "Who are you?" the man demanded.

"I'll ask the questions," Erik snapped back with another quick tug on the noose. "What are you doing here?"

"This is my office," he replied, trying to twist away.

Erik glanced around the room and saw a name on some of the notes he had tossed away. His eyes grew wide. It was a name even he knew. Jean-Martin Charcot: the man who ran the psychiatric clinic. If this was truly him, Erik had struck gold. "You're Jean-Martin Charcot?"

He nodded. "Yes. Now what do you want from me?"

"I need your help," Erik answered. "And refusal is not an option."