Ever since Erik had come to Persia he had been trying to fill a hole. A void he had come to notice ever since his time in Rome. He didn't know what it needed or wanted to be filled.

Whether it was knowledge, riches, or music. He did not know.

He had dabbled in some drugs but found that it only made the hole worse. And it would slowly tear apart his voice and mind, or what was left of his mind that already wasn't mad.

He was jolted off his train of thought when something hit his shoulder, when there was no apology he turned, his eyebrows furrowed indignantly, finding the offending person continuing to walk down the hall. Finding it was only Sophia walking down the hall and rushing into her room. An audible click came from the doorknob.

Erik gave in to the pull and allowed himself to knock on the door.

"Are you alright?"

"Is the sky green?"

"No." This was the first time he heard her sass, he had to stop his incensed laughter, he knew he would not appreciate it if the roles were reversed.

"There's your answer." He could hear her voice break slightly at the end.

He let out a silent sigh, telling himself she had been through copious amounts of emotion. "Please just talk to me." he spoke softly, Sophia seemed to consider this for a few moments as only a minute or two later she opened the door. She looked up at him, her eyes slightly puffy. Something paged in his chest.

"Let's go somewhere else to talk, okay, will outside be alright?"

Sophia's eyes went down to his feet, and nodded.

Setting outside, Erik made the first move to talk. "What's wrong Sophia?"

"Just call me Isa. That's what I was called in Greece."

"Isa don't stall the question please." Irradiation rising in his voice only slightly

"I'm angry about what happened. To me. How he tore me apart literally and figuratively. I never want to be that girl you found half dead on a river bank. I want to go home to Mykonos. I want to be able to live my own life without being in danger of being simply a woman." She paused, bringing her knees to her chest. "I don't even really care if that makes sense at this point."

Erik nodded, he could completely understand it. He wanted to pour all of his heart out to her and somehow throttle some sense that life was not all bad. But really his life had been rather terrible.

"My life has never afforded me a good hand either. Trust me I know. From the moment I was born I have been despised. " He couldn't acutely believe he was opening up right now. "I was born with a severe facial deformity. It's made my life a living hell."

"I wondered why you covered your face." A smile played on her lips. "Honestly, I thought you were just a tad too dramatic."

"I must admit I am dramatic, in some ways, but that's not really the point. At eight years old a mob broke into our house, solely because I was viewed as the village monster. They killed my dog and almost killed me. My injuries were so bad they required a doctor and left scars."

"I'm sorry." Isa responded sympathetically.

"No pity please, my point is that you are going to have to hold that pain, that can not be helped. But it can either mold you for the better or for the worst."

"What do you think it did for you?"

Erik turned his head away from Isa "Honestly, it was for the worst." He let out a short beautiful laugh.

At least he was honest with himself.

—

Isa turned on her heel to face Angelique, eyebrows furrowed, her mind told her to say no.

But where would the fun be at. No harm in fucking with her head. God knows she did that with her as a young girl.

"Yes. She was my aunt."

Angelique nodded. "If you don't mind, where were you born?" She pried.

"Crete." Isa responded flatly. Their conversation was cut short when a guttural cry came from below them. Isa quickly tried to act startled.

"What was that?" Feigning her surprise.

" My nephew, he's violent, and his social skills are poor. I refuse to send him to an asylum. He is badly hurt." Isa knew better.

"Well, I'd be glad to treat him if he is hurt.". Angelique seemed to consider this thoroughly for a moment. Then clearing her throat again.

"Yes, if you could, that would be good." Anxiety passed over her face.

Isa made a simple nod. Angelique seemed to try to cover herself with another lie. Telling Isa that he attempted to strangle Andrei, how they couldn't send him to an institution, how he would hurt himself so they tied him to a chair.

How he also looked like a horrifying corpse.

Isa could feel the dread building in her gut and chest, as the larger lackey followed behind her, seeming to eye her up and down.

She of course had seen his face. She didn't fear his face per say but how he could act extremely violent without his mask.

I need to just get him out. In and out that is all. Clean and stitch him up. She repeated this like a mantra.

The door opened and the smell of blood invaded Isa's nose. It chilled her veins to see Erik like this, without a mask and so beaten down. Before her was not the arrogant, egotistical or dramatic man she had come to… she had to stop that thought, not now. She resisted the urge to run to his side. All of the familiar feelings she had before had to be pushed down for both of their safety.

Isa swallowed and immediately went to work on him, starting with untying him. Mumbling along the lines of that she couldn't work with him like that. He continued to stay unconscious. She pulled him up, putting his arm around her shoulders to lay him down on the bed.

Her nimble fingers made quick work on stitching him up, and was finishing up rather quickly, when Erik's fiery eyes shot open. In one quick motion he had his hand on her throat and pinned underneath him.

"Erik what the fuck, you know me!" Isa struggled out. Angelique wanted to laugh but bit back her amusement.

Angelique quickly interjected, "you know him?" not really seeming to be concerned with the doctor's predicament.

"Erik, stop!" Isa begged as she began to lose oxygen to her head. This seemed to break his rage-filled trance. Ripping his hands away from her neck as if it was made of hot coals. Rolling off of her, and frantically backing himself into a corner, bringing his knees into his chest and sobbing, mumbling incoherently to himself. He was completely despondent.

He was so empty. His mind went from the day he saw his own face. To the Romani carnival, to Javert. To his time as a spectacle in the Qajar court.

Isa gasped painfully as air returned to her lungs. Coughing and sputtering as angelique squatted down next to Isa. Her slender hand painfully grasped at Isa's chin, her nails digging into Isa's flesh. Making her turn her head to Angelique.

"You are that whore's child, aren't you?" She smirked.

"If you mean your husband then yes." Isa's voice wavered from the recent trauma. Angelique chuckled a bit then backhanded Isa.

"You're lucky I need you for now. I ought to just have you killed." She snarled, then turned to her guard. "Take her bag, she won't be needing them for a while." All Isa could do was stare in shock at what was happening.