A/N - thank you for the review/comment Kimberly84.This one took a little bit longer to write as it is a long chapter (in comparison to the others).
--xxx--
When the carriage clock upon the mantle chimed one in the morning Simon, the de Chagny's second footman, was jerked from his sleep. The de Chagny butler, Samson, remained undisturbed; his head rested upon the table using the crook.of his arm as a pillow. Upon seeing the sight Simon wished some of the other staff could have seen the unusal sight of their superior breaking protocol - something they would quickly be disciplined for.
There were a few benefits of being employed by the Vicomte de Chagny, one being that both the master and mistress kept good time and were often in their respective bed chambers by ten. When Simon had first been employed by the de Chagny's there had been a heavy tension among the staff, with a clear division between those who had travelled with the couple from France and those who had been employed since they made their home in London. Many of the French staff were heavily critical of their mistress due to her origins and there where whispers that some were reporting her behaviour back to the Doweger Comtess. But this had all changed the day that the Doweger had tried to dismiss one of the chambermaids after accusing her stealing and hiding her belongings. It was well known among staff that a dismissal without a reference, especially dismissal from the nobility, would likely end in ruin - probably the workhouse or a less then reputable profession. It had been for the decisive actions of the Vicomte and Vicomtess thay had festered a new found respect from among the staff.
As and as the Doweger's health began to decline and her behaviour become more erratic an increasing number of the staff had began to become concerned about the impact her behaviour was having on the mistress' wellbeing, especially as she was spending an increasing amount of time outside of the home. The snide remarks that had once been a source of ammusement for some of the staff had become increasingly uncomfortable and many began to pity Christine and resent her husband's inability to control his mother's behaviour.
It was unsual for the de Chagny's to be home late, and when the bell indicating their return rang Simon gently shook his superior into a waking state and both men made their way to hall.
Both men were surprised to see both their employers accompanied by Mr. Abdré, another middleclass gentleman who.was rambling loudly about ghosts and revenge, and a well dressed gentleman from the east. standing behind the four men looking pale-faced and distant was the Vicomtess.
The Vicomte de Chagny waved his hand dismissaly towards his butler and footman, and bith him and Mr André guided the middleclass gentleman into the drawingroom, while the other man followed a few paces behind. None seemed to pay any atte tion to the woman who remained in the door way clearly lost on her own thoughts.
Samson was reluctant to interrupt whatever she was currently processing, but he had been unaware of absence and he hadn't directed a maid to remain awake waiting for her return."I am sorry Madame, I didn't know you had accompanied the Vicomte, I will wake one of the maids for you".
With a slight shake of her head Christine turned and smiled, "no - don't do that" she said in a light tone, "I will be fine. Please - both retire for the night. My husband and our guests require no further assistance".
Christine watched the two men leave in the direction of the servant's stairs, with her butler stopping briefly to look behind and seek further confirmation that they were allowed to leave, but seemed satisfied once she gave him an acknowledging nod.
When Christine finally entered the drawingroom it seemed that all of the men had forgotten her presence, making it easy for her to slip quietly in and sit in a chair on the far side of the room.
She in silence as she observed her husband and his three companions argue.over who best to deal with Erik's behaviour; the Persian and Raoul were admirer that it would be of greater detriment to all involved if the police were involved, whereas Richard Firmin wanted him punished. Christine failed to understand why none of the men had realised that they were all guilty of breaking or bending the law in one way or another, therefore contacting the police would benefit no one.
"Maybe I don't fully understand", she interrupted, "but I assumed that both Messuiers André and Firmin are tk benefit financially if Erik's production were to go ahead, therefore you would suffer financially if it did not? I know it would benefit my husband and I."
All eyes were on Christine as she spoke, with Gilles and Raoul nodding in agreement.
"Yes - but he tried to kill me!", Firmin retorted stepping towards Christine while waving his arms erratically,
"But he didn't", she said calmly. She didn't want to downplay Erik's behaviour; it had been truly terrifying and had far too many parallels with the events that occured in Paris, but she felt there was a more pressing issue that needed to be discussed. "Now, Monsiour Firmin, I have agreed to sing in the production being performed in your theatre. It should bring you a healthy return, but I will withdraw my services if you do anything that will cause Erik pain or difficulty".
The condition of her performance shocked everyone in the room, with Raoul preparing to object but chosing not to once he realised Christine was trying to resolve the impasse.
"Now, gentleman, I have much to discuss with my husband and it is late"
"Of course Madame", Nadir responded, fully understanding her meaning, "I thank you for your hospitality and shall take my leave". Which prompted both Gilles and Firmin to do the same.
After their late-night guests had left Raoul immediately tried to embrace his wife, but she pushed him away and increased the physical distance between them. He had once again protected her, but as soon as they returned home he showed a complete lack of concern for her welfare.
"Don't you dare touch me" she said in a low hiss. Although Raoul had continually tried to remind their guests to be quiet for fear of waking his mother as he would have to explain the late-night impromtu buisness meeting, Christine didn't want the woman to wake because she wished to speak with her husband alone.
"Did you know about your mother?" she demanded, keeping her eyes fixed.on his searching for any evidence of deciet
"Of course not" he said, "I promise Lotte. I didn't know. Do you honestly believe she would be welcome in our home if I knew?"
"I don't know why that woman is welcome here anyway", she muttered under her breath before speaking directly to him once again, "and what are you going to do about it?"
Raoul stood dumbfounded by his wife's question, as though he hadn't been expecting it, which was something that made her blood boil.
"I have had enough Raoul! Your mother has been vile towards me, and now we know she has paid someone to try and destroy us, but you stand there and do nothing", she spoke in a raised voice but still mindful of her sleeping mother-in-law directly above their current location.
"Things aren't that easy Lotte", he replied in an exasperated tone, "and she is going back to France with Phillipe anyway".
"Do you honestly think that is enough?" she spat before leaving the room in anger and retiring to her room.
While Christine lay in her bed she replayed he events of earlier thay night and the occurrence s t the Opera House. Staring absent mindedly at her ceiling she realised that Erik's behaviour all formed a pattern. It was about control, and when he didn't have control he acted both irrationally and erratically.
Reflecting on these events made her realise she wanted to understand why Erik behaved the way he did. And to do that she needed to speak to him
--xxx--
When Meg and Erik finally emerged from the theatre the city smog had once again settled and was preventing the moonlight from reaching the streets below. The only light was provided by the sparsely spaced street lamps, with even the taverns and inns having closed their doors for the night. Meg didn't like traversing the streets at night, fully aware of the types of people who lurked in alleyways waiting to pounce in unsuspecring passers-by. In normal circumstances she would have linked her arm with Erik's, allowing his proximity to ease her hyper-vigilent mind, but his current posture and body language made her doubt whether such closeness would be welcomed.
Erik, who normally walked at his full height with an air of nobility, was downtrodden and hunched. Dressed as he was, in smart evening wear with a black cape and fedora, his form looked more menacing slightly hunched and focused the floor. Meg hated seeing the man she had come to care for broken into a thousand pieces; she didn't share his intellect, but understood that it must have been confusing for a man who processed such genius not to be able to comprehend why his plan had apparently failed (as she didn't know what is plan had actually been) and why Christine didn't love him the way he wanted.
The couple walked in silence, with Erik guiding the way and avioding any of the narrow passageways that would have made their journey shorter. Meg was glad he aviod the alleys and twittens, clearly sharing her concern. Under normal circumstances Erik would have paid no heed, knowing he could easily unhand and incapacitate anyone who dared approached them with criminal motives, but in his current state he didn't have the energy or will to try.
They had been walking for almost an hour before the silence was broken when the approached the square where Erik lived. The closer they had become Meg had noticed Erik's pace had slowed, his normally light feet becoming heavy reflecting his reluctantance to return.
"I can't go in there", he said, stopping at the corner of the street and looking absently at the light escaping through the curtains of the large bay window. "If the police aren't waiting for me, your mother and Nadir will be".
"I understand", Meg replied. If the police were present then Erik would face prison and torment, and she couldn't bare the thought of him being caged once again, and if it were only her mother and Nador he would likely face the Spanish Inquistion and be heavily reprimanded for his behaviour. In his current state she was certain he was not upto a verbal duel, and she understood the impact that would have on his already fragile self-perception. Understing his predicament Meg gently took his hand and guided him to face another direction.
"Then come and stay at mine".
It took another forty minutes of walking in silence to reach Meg's flat, and when they did she reminded him of the need to be silent as they ascended the stairs. As with most reputable dwellings for single ladies there were strict rules about who was allowed to visit the occupants, and having a gentleman enter her flat gone two in the morning would certainly end her tenancy. She spoke in a hushed tone as they approached, as though she was fearful that her landlady had such acute hearing she could hear her from from over 500ft away.
Erik had found her worry concerning; surely she knew he would never allow her to be cast out into the street? Had his behaviour towards her made her believe otherwise? Furthermore, if they were to be caught it would be due to her lack of stealth and not his.
On the two occasions Erik had been into Meg's home he had paid no mind to her decor or belongings, instead focusing soley on his purpose. But with Meg having busied herself making tea he now had the opportunity to survey the dancer's home and processions. The walls were covered in what he considered a tastless barouque yellow and cream pattern which reminded Erik of the colour of churned butter, the furniture was a mis-matched mixture of mahogany and oak , with the only saving grace being the heavy dark green curtains. He doubted the decor and furnishings were to her taste, more likely left over from a previous tenant and were included in her rent, but it perturbed him that she wasn't living in the luxory she deserved and was entitled to. Until that moment he hadn't spared a passing thought for how his friend had been living, and even when he visited he hadn't noticed her lifestyle was probably not what she had become accustomed to in New York.
With his adrenaline returning to a normal level Erik started to feel the burning sensation of the now raw skin under his mask. From years of experience he knew it was best to remove his mask if he were to cry as the trapped salt and moisture aggrevated his skin causing extensive irritation. But earlier that evening he hadn't removed his mask, not for fear of scaring Meg, but because everything seemed so futile.
Everything was nugatory at the moment and he no longer cared whether Meg saw his unmasked face. She had seen it before and hadn't run in revulsion, so unless the dark light and the new sores made him particularly more disgusting he didn't think she would. And, if she did run and scream she would be another person reaffirming what he knew about himself.
Even though he was a self-deprecating individual, Erik had always taken care of his skin - fearing the damage an infection would cause and how much more repulsive he believed he would become. Due to this he had a regimented routine of oils and ointments that calmed inflammation, helped fight infection and soothed irritation, but not being home meant he had none of these at his disposal. He knew Meg would have some cold cream, but he daren't ask for soap fearing she would bring the carbolic and he knew that would strip his skin of all moisture.
When Meg returned to the room carrying a tray with a pot of tea, she was surprised to see that Erik was not wearing his mask or wig; wthout them he seemed vulnerable, naked and bare. Pushing aside her apprehension she gingerly placed the tray on the small oak table next to the settee and made a move to sit in the smaller chair opposite, but as she did Erik's long figures wrapped around his wrist.
"Sit with me". The words were an instruction, but the tone remained sullen. He didn't believe she would wish to be in his company considering his appearence, yet the dancer sat with such close proximity her knees touched his thigh.
Meg had made the conscious decision not to turn away from Erik's face, not to flinch and not to stare. She had seen his face at close proximity before, but the twisted skin, absent nose and sunken eyes were not an easy sight. When Christine had decribed his appearance she had made him sound like a demon, but Meg considered that an exaggeration. To Christine it made sense; she was devout and had believed Erik to be an angel, to her his sudden appearance as a man combined with his appearance could make him seem demonic, especially as her religion taught that the devil used tricks and lies to deter people from the light. In Meg's opinion she didn't see the face of a demon, she saw the face of a very broken man; one she didn't want to break anymore.
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence and Erik shifting in his seat to distance his leg from her offending knee he finally found the strength to ask her: "Why are you so kind to me?"
Meg allowed an exhausted sigh to escape her lips before she answered, lightly placing her hands atop his. "I know you don't believe me, but I've told you before: everyone deserves kindness Erik". As she spoke she rose her hand to touch the sore side of his face, only to withdraw it at the last moment wondering if such an uninvited move would cause an outburst. "Does it hurt?"
He nodded in response, "not normally, but it is irritated. At home I have ointments and oils that I would normally use to help - aloe vera to be precise"
Meg looked at him confused. She had never heard of something called aloe vera. "I am afraid I don't have any of that. The best I can offer is warm water, carbolic soap and cold cream"
"Then just the water please" he said, hoping she wouldn't see fit to submerge the carbolic soap.
--xxx--
It didn't take long for Meg's flat to be overcome with stillness. Erik found the darkness and silence caused by her sleeping reassuring providing him with a space to think. On Meg's settee he lay still for hours replaying the events of the night over in his mind; he analysed every action and scrutinised every expression. As minutes turned into hours something became abundantly clear to Erik; the only reason he hadn't killed Firmin was Meg. In fact, Meg was the reason he hadn't killed Oliver. On both occasions she had been the person to calm him and prevent him from decending into the depths of his past he would rather forget.
Erik's intial plan had been to show the Vicomte and André that their buisness partner was a snake in the grass, thus giving him some creditibility with the Victome which would allow him to garner an understanding of whether he knew of his mother's deciet. But Christine's impromptu arrival had resulted in a rapid change of plan: he had the opportunity to show her that the de Chagny's did not value her, care for her or love her, whereas he did. He would enable her to fly while they wanted her caged. But instead of running to him with open arms she had remained silent, only speaking to protest claims of an affair. Then she had hurridly left with her husband.
Erik didn't understand why she couldn't see that everything he did was for her. In his mind she had encouraged his adoration and amorous feelings. She had written to him, told him she missed him and expressed eager anticipation for his arrival in England. She had lied to her husband to see him, yet, she denied him the romantic love he desired. She looked horrified when she saw him punjab Firmin, but he knew she had forgiven previous transgressions of a simular nature, including his threats to kill her then-fiancé, so he couldn't understand why she didn't forgive again.
He didnt understand why she didn't stay with him. He didn't understand why Nadir didn't stay with him. He didn't understand why only person who did stay was Meg.
He lay staring at the ceiling and began to think about Meg. She was kind and compassionate. She held him while he cried, walked with him for over an hour only to turn accept the journey had been in vein. She was risking her tenancy to allow him to sleep on her settee.
The more he thought about his interactions with Meg the more unsettled he became. Meg had sacrificed her engagement to protect him. Meg was not dancing ballet to help him. Meg had forgiven his appalling behaviour towards her with compassion and understanding. Meg had held him when he cried. Meg had stopped him from becoming the Phantom and Angel of Doom on two seperate occasions. Meg never flinched or ran from his face. Meg willingly touched him and wanted to be in his company. He had shared his past with her and she didn't run in disgust, instead she listened and accepted.
Meg had shown him more compassion than anyone else in his entire life, even more than Nadir, yet he had treated her with anger and manipulation. He knew he had toyed with her emotions to try and control her, and now the thought made him feel nauseous and disgusted. He had made it a rule never to regret his actions, but as he thought about how he had treated his friend the sense of guilt became overwhelming. Meg had consistently said he was a better man, but his behaviour towards her indicated otherwise - becoming progressively worse the more time he spent with Christine. He had side-lined her, yet she continued to be at his side when he needed her.
Unable to sleep he quietly stood and made his way to Meg's room, pushing the door open a slither to allow him to see her sleeping form. Meg looked peaceful and content, clearly having a pleasant dream as a light smile played across her face.
As he stood looking at her he realised he had been blind: Christine had said that you make sacrifices for the people you love, and Meg had made many for him. He had the love of a beautiful, whitty and intelligent woman.
He held a firey passion for Christine, but in Meg's presence he felt comfortable and at ease. His mind drifted to the day they visited the museum and he remembered how 'normal' he felt. He had wanted a content life in the daylight, to take strolls in the park and visit museums and galleries, all with the woman he loved and who loved him back. He had wanted to feel 'normal' his entire life and with Meg he did.
Once the revelation dawned upon him Erik fought back tears and pushed the door to so she couldn't hear his muffled cries. Settling back on the settee and wrapping himself in the blanket that smelt of Meg he closed his eyes, finally succumbing to sleep.
--xxx--
Meg hurried about her flat as light-footed as possible, knowing Erik to be a light sleeper and not wanting to disturb him from his much needed rest. On several occasions she had seen him stir and she stood motionless waiting to see whether he would wake before continuing her chores.
Remembering to bring a shopping bag Meg quietly made her way out of her building and found a cab to take her to Erik's.
Upon her arrival she was greeted by an exhausted looking Nadir. She could tell from the dark circles and heavy bags, as well as the bloodshot eyes, that he hadn't slept well. She knew she would face an inquisition from Nadir about the events that occured once they left the theatre, but Meg was more concerned with fetching Erik some essentials and his aloe vera to spend time worrying about what the Persian and her mother hand to say.
"Are you safe?", Antionette asked from the doorway after she heard the brief greetings between her daughter and Nadir, "from what I heard Erik was - well - dangerous last night".
Giving her mother a broad smile and a peck on the cheek Meg replied that she was fine and was just fetching somethings for her house guest.
"He cannot stay with you!", Antionette objected, once again showing concern for her daughter's reputation. She was concerned for Erik, but she knew he could weather any storm, whereas Meg's reputation and future could not.
"Honestly it is fine. He just needs some space. I don't think it is wise for him to come here and be questioned and chastised right now", she responded walking towards the stairs, "he is broken mamam. More broken than before".
"That is what I am worried about my dear", Nadir cut in, "Erik likes to be in control and when he isn't he can become quite volitle.".
"I know", she said acending the stairs with Nadir following her. She reiterated to Nadir the purpose of her visit was to collect a few essentials for Erik, and something called aloe vera, and requested his help. Although she knew Nadir didn't like to enter Erik's personal realm uninvited he had done so on many occasions, thus he was the best person to ask for assistance.
"Aloe vera is a plant", Nadir explained while handing her a small vial containing a clear gel. Meg held the vial confused, but seeing her expression he elaborated, "you can harvest the gel inside to make remedies. It helps heal and clean wounds - which is why I am assuming Erik wants it"
"Oh - Erik didn't send me. He was sleeping when I left", she replied placing the vial in her bag. "He doesn't know I am here".
--xxx--
Erik was unhappy to find that Meg wasn't present when he awoke, and was even more unhappy when she returned with a bag of his belongings.
"You shouldn't have gone there", he spoke a sharp tone, "what about the police? They could have followed you"
"There were no police. Just mamam and Nadir", she responded as she lay everything out on the small end table and then proudly presented him with the vial of liquid. "You said you needed it, so I went and fetched it".
As Erik took the vial he fought back tears; it was such a small gesture and he found it unbelievable that she would have done something so kind.
"I dont deserve you in my life" he muttered turning away from her as he removed his mask and removed the cork from the vial. She watched him as he put a small amount of the oil on his finger tips and began to rub it onto his face in small circular motions. Meg was captivated by the routine he undertook, and almost offered to assist him.
"There is something I need to tell you", Meg said in a worried tone as she perched on the edge of the chair opposite him. Her words forcing him to stop his routine and glance nervously at her left hand. He was relieved to see she didn't wear André's ring, but her nervous body language and the way she was nervously gripping the chair didn't fill him with eager anticipation.
Biting her lip until it drew blood Meg began to doubt the wisdom of sharing her plans with him following the events of the previous night. Seeing her nerves Erik knelt before her and took her hands offering reassurance, as she had previously done for him.
"Meg?", his voice genuinely concerned by her sudden silence.
"Once the production's run is over I am going to Russia", she tried to speak with enthusiasm, "Mamam has been offered a teaching position at a new school they intend to call the Ballet Russes. I have been asked to accompany her. Nadir...".
"Nadir?", Erik interrupted, feeling a pit of anger growing in his stomach; of course the Persian was involved in this.
"The offer came through him. He is aquanited with the owner and will be acting as our translator until we learn the language".
Sitting back on his heels Erik's eyes narrowed considering how he could prevent her from leaving, but his face softened when he realised such behaviour would be another attempt to manipulate and control her - something he didn't wan't to continue doing. He didn't want Meg to leave. Not now.
Still gripping her hands tightly he spoke slowly, trying to annunciate the importance of his words:"I don't want you to go"
Meg removed her hands from his and subconsciously rubbed her eyes, "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to sacrifice my happiness for you Erik. This is a wonderful opportunity that I can't turn down"
It was an excellent opportunity for Meg and Erik knew that he should have felt happy for her, but he didn't. Instead he focused on her words: she wasn't going to make a sacrifice for him.