IF LOVE WERE A FLOWER

on the run from the police

The next day Antoinette Giry got up early, she wanted to be around when Erik would wake up, just in case he would get angry. She wouldn't have needed to - Erik didn't wake up when she walked past him and build a fire in the chimney, he didn't wake when she prepared breakfast in the kitchen and he didn't even wake up when Meg went to look if he was awake. Finally Antoinette decided to wake him carefully. She knew that he might strike before he was fully awake so she didn't go near but poked him with her walking cane.

Erik grabbed the cane and ripped it from her hands, before she knew what was happening she was on her back on the floor, Erik standing over her, her cane in his hands, ready to strike. Only then did he blink and looked around in confusion, trying to find out where he was.

"Um... may I get up?" Madame Giry asked.

"I'm so sorry," Erik held out his hand to help her up, blushing with shame.

Meg couldn't help laughing again. Now, by daylight, he looked even more ridiculous in her mother's pink nightshirt. Erik looked down and blushed even more, turning his back to the two women. He bend down to take the blanket and cover himself with it as much as possible. There was nothing else he could do now.

"Breakfast is ready," Antoinette told them.

Meg wasn't happy to learn that she had to sit at the table with Erik in the kitchen as her mother placed three plates with bread and honey on the table. Erik sat down, the blanket like a cape around his shoulders. He was too hungry not to eat and didn't even think to wait until the two ladies would begin.

"You need clothes," Antoinette began, "But we do not have anything that might fit and of course no men's clothing."

"You can't just go any buy something. If the police learns that you buy men's clothing they would become suspicious," Erik warned her.

Meg shrugged. "They already searched our flat with hounds the very first day, and then a week later again."

Erik closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "They suspect you to be my accomplice," he sighed, "I have to leave tonight."

"And go where? Yesterday you were close to death, if you go back to the catacombs and the sewers it won't be long before you either die or give yourself up as soon as the police promises you a glass of water and a piece of bread!" Antoinette warned him.

He nodded sadly. "I just don't know what to do. I don't want to live, but I'm too cowardly to end it myself and the thought of being imprisoned and executed in public is unbearable. I just... I don't know..." He tried to bite back tears, he wouldn't cry in front of two women.

"You need rest," Antoinette decided, "Meg and I go shopping."

"I told you..." Erik tried to stop her, but she interrupted him.

"Do you think I'm a fool? We go to a second hand shop and buy clothes and shoes for ourselves, as if we were planning a trip to the mountains. I'm sure I can smuggle some men's clothing out of the shop then."

"I don't like this," Erik replied, but since he had no better idea he decided to change the topic: "I need some rugs and old towels you don't want to use any more. If I am to stay here all day long I need to prepare the hidey-hole."

"We have a hidingplace in our flat?" Meg asked surprised, but was silenced by the glare of her mother and the deformed man. To Meg's surprise the deformed visage was not so frightening when it sat on a body dressed in a pink nightshirt, but she knew better than to point that out to Erik.

"Meg, you stay here and entertain our guest," Antoinette decided, "I go to buy clothing."

"But..." Meg and Erik objected at the same time, but finally decided against further protests, Meg because she didn't dare risking a quarrel with her mother and Erik because he knew he couldn't do anything now. He didn't even have clothing and it was broad daylight, what could he do except staying here and hoping for the best?


Meg felt absolutely odd as the two sat in the livingroom. She didn't know why her mother risked her to stay with the Phantom rather than taking her with her - she was just going shopping! Why couldn't the girl accompany her? She looked at the man who was sitting crouched at the couch, covered in blankets. He had finally found some piece of clothing to cover his face, he looked rather like a woman wearing a veil now, but this was preferable to being exposed to Meg's eyes.

"Sir?" Meg began cautiously when she couldn't endure the silence any longer, "May I ask something?"

"You may ask - and I may not answer," he replied. He was in no mood for conversation, but what could he do? Locking himself in the bathroom just to avoid being in the same room as the blonde girl?

"How long can one survive without water?"

Erik shrugged. "Two days, maybe three. Why do you ask?" He was not at all interested in smalltalk, but he couldn't very well lock himself in the bathroom to escape the blonde girl.

"You were in the sewers two weeks," Meg asked curiously, "Even the police thinks you might be dead. How did you survive?"

"With difficulty." Why did this girl have to chatter? He wanted to be left in peace, his situation was bad enough without a nosy ballet rat. Had she not been Antoinette's daughter he would have scared her away by now, but he couldn't do that, he needed her mother's help - at least until he had some clothes and could leave.

"But... what did you drink?"

"The least disgusting liquid available."

"And... what was that?" Meg couldn't imagine how one could find any drinkable liquid in the sewers.

"My own urine," Erik answered and grinned as Meg shuddered in disgust and covered her lips with both hands, her eyes wide in horror. "You have never been that thirsty, have you?" he asked smirking.

"No," Meg struggled not to retch.

"You have never been really hungry as well, have you?" Erik asked, finally he had an idea how to get rid of her. Meg shook her head slightly. Right now the thought of food was nearly too much for her. Erik grinned. "Otherwise you would have known that rats are edible."

Meg rushed to the toilet and Erik settled down on the couch rather satisfied. If this had not been enough he would have told her that when a man was really starving he would eat human flesh if nothing else was available. Erik had no idea if this was true, he himself would never do that, he hoped. He didn't really know where his limits were in a fight for survival, he only knew that he valued his life higher than anyone else's - except Christine, that is.


Antoinette Giry came home in a rush. She carried a basket with clothing. "Erik, where is Meg?" she asked.

"In the bathroom, I think," Erik answered and couldn't help smiling, wondering about himself. Was he really such a bad guy that he could only laugh at someone's misfortune?

Antoinette showed the basket in his hands and snapped: "Get dressed! Hurry up!"

"Where?" He couldn't very well dress in a room where Meg could come in any moment now.

"My room," she ordered and went to the bathroom to see to her daughter.

Erik was not happy with the clothing she had bought. The trousers were too wide and too short, the shirt was much too large, she had forgotten that men usually wore underwear, the jacket must have been made for Goliath himself, the socks were too large and of crude itchy material and the shoes were so worn out he doubted he would be able to walk with them more than a few steps before they would fell apart - and they were a bit too small, he would have to cut them open at the front if he wanted to walk with them. But there was nothing he could do now except taking what he had and getting dressed.

When he left the room, Antoinette shoved a bundle of rags in his hands and whispered: "Hide, now!" Erik knew what that meant. The police was on their way and he was trapped in their flat. He went to the bathroom and opened the hidden trapdoor just to press himself in the tiny space under the build-in bathtub. Meg stared at him flabberghasted, she hadn't known they had a hiding place in their bathroom and that under a fully functional bathtub. He shut the door from inside.

"Meg, lock yourself in the bathroom and pretend to be washing! Turn on the water and so on! And when you come out: nothing happened, no one is here except the two of us," Antoinette instructed, then grabbed one of the perfume bottles and let it fall in the bathtub. "If someone asked, you were so startled when the police called you, you broke the bottle!"

Soon after that six policemen arrived. They politely asked if they could come in and have a look, someone had informed them that a disgusting beggar had been seen lurking around the house the night before and now they were just making sure it was not the Phantom.

"O please do come in!" Madame Giry said and gave a perfect image of a frightened woman, "You know that I am horribly afraid of him. He threatened to kill me should I ever tell anyone what I knew - and I led you to his lair! He surely wants to kill me now!"

The policemen searched the flat very carefully. Meg played her role, letting out a terrified scream as a policeman knocked on the door of the bathroom and told her to come out. She was terribly pale and shaking - this was not faked, she was scared to death. If Erik would be found now, she and her mother would stand at his side in court facing public trial.

The police searched the Giry's flat thoroughly, taking both women to the police office for an interrogation. Meg was constantly crying, declaring how scared she was of the Phantom and that she knew nothing more than Christine had told her. Madame Giry couldn't deny her role as the Phantom's messenger, but she did adhere to her previous statement that she had never been an accomplice, he had blackmailed her into delivering his letters, threatening to murder the ballet girls one by one should she refuse or betray him - she declared having been in constant fear for her own life and that of her daughter.

It was late that evening that both women returned home, not knowing what they might find when they arrived. To their great relief the policemen informed them that they had found nothing, but they would leave two guards for they were not sure if the beggar who had been seen the night before was not the Phantom trying to take revenge for Madame Giry had shown them the secret path to his lair. Madame Giry thanked them and assured them how glad she was that she and her daughter were safe now with two guards in the street. Meg only cried, she didn't have the nerve to say anything.

Madame Giry locked the door carefully, only then did she relax slightly. "Thank God, they didn't find him!" she sighed, "We have to get him out of there. He's been hiding beneath the bathtub for more than six hours now."

She knocked at the bathtub. "You may come out."

Erik pushed open the secret door and crawled out of the tiny space with a groan. He had been lying on his stomach all day long without any chance to move his arms or legs or even turn his head from the left to the right side, all the time hearing the police, trying to be as silent as possible. "No hounds. The hounds would have smelled me despite the perfume," he groaned and stretched, "Thanks for the rugs. This would have gotten rather unpleasant. If you excuse me now, I have to clean myself up!"

"Of course, excuse me," Antoinette dragged her daughter out of the bathroom.


That evening they sat in the kitchen. Erik rested his head in his hands and stared at the wall. Meg picked at her food. Antoinette stared at her plate, her hands folded in her lap. Neither could eat anything.

Erik was the first who spoke: "I can't stay here. It is too dangerous."

"You can't leave. There are two guards in the street," Meg informed him.

Erik raised his eyebrows slightly amused. "You have no idea how quickly and silently they die."

Antoinette snapped irritated: "That is exactly the attitude that caused this whole mess!"

"Really? Who was the one to lead the police to my secret hiding place?" Erik retorted angrily, but kept his voice down. He could not afford to be heard by any neighbors now, "Who betrayed me?"

"I never betrayed you!"

Erik pushed his chair back, jumped to his feet and leaned over the table, his deformed face dangerously close to hers. "How did they find me then? First the Vicomte, then the police?"

"I only followed your orders."

"My orders? I must really be a madman for I can't remember telling you to send me to my doom!"

"You gave me a lot of rules to follow, but you said yourself there was one rule that was above every other: get Christine Daae out of harm's way and if it cost all our lives," Antoinette replied calmly. Meg had to admire her mother's fearlessness in the face of the Phantom's fury. Antoinette added calmly: "In that moment you were the worst danger to her."

Erik let out a groan, sank onto his chair and buried his head in his arms, silently weeping. He could no longer control himself.


That night Erik left the Giry's flat through a window to the backyard, climbing up a fireladder to the roof and climbing over the roofs to the other side of the block where he used a rain water downpipe to reach the street and vanished in the darkness. He would have to hide away again, it was too dangerous to stay in the Giry's flat, but they had promised to bring him food and water and a blanket the next night.

A horrible routine set in the weeks that followed. Erik lived in the catacombs, constantly on the move, only seldom daring to sleep, trying to stay out of everyone's way, which was not easy for he was not the only one who found shelter in the sewers and catacombs. Criminals, whores, beggars, drug-addicted people - they all knew some hiding places in the sewers, even street-children were there, at least somewhere close to the entrances. Erik was one of the few who dared going deep down without light for he knew his way there and would find his way back again.

Every three days he came to one of the prepared places where he had build in hidden boxes in the walls. Madame Giry and her daughter dutifully had stashed them with hardtack and bottles of water, but he had to be frugal for he didn't know when they would find an opportunity to bring new supplies. Sometimes he wondered if Madame Giry had been right and he would eventually give himself up just because in prison he would have a place to sleep - it wouldn't be colder or filthier than the sewers where he was living now - and at least some sort of food and water. But right now he was not that desperate. He carried a large knife with him - he had taken it from Giry's kitchen - not so much to defend himself for he knew that the police always came in large numbers and he wouldn't do much with just one knife but to cut his own throat should he find himself cornered. It was comforting to know that he could always end his misery, should he chose to do so.

It was a very hard life, living in constant fear, hunger and thirst without any chance to keep up a minimum hygiene. Even when he dared to go to some place where he would find some underground rivulet he didn't dare taking off his clothes, much less washing them, for he never knew if someone might see him, might try to arrest him. He missed the luxury of clean clothing or a bath - or even to wash himself with cold water. The luxury of having a toilet and not needing to go to the sewers to relief himself, always risking someone might see him.


One night Erik dared to use the secret entrance to a crypt beneath a church. He had long ago broken one of the coffins and disposed of the corpse, the coffin was now one of the secret places where the Giry's could leave supplies for him. It was one of the easier places for them for it would not arouse any suspicions if they went to church regularly. Even if they entered the crypt no one would think much of it - in exactly that crypt was the grave of the late Monsieur Giry. Of course Erik had not been so tactless to use his coffin.

When he came to the crypt, he saw a light. Someone was there - at this time? It must be late in the evening, so who would be there? Carefully he peeped through the hidden peephole and let out a sigh of relief when he saw that it was just Meg Giry. She stood at her father's coffin, had carefully arranged flowers and candles around it. Her basket was large, obviously she had brought food and water for Erik and he decided to approach her.

"Meg," he said softly.

She jumped. "Erik!" she gasped, breathing hard, "You always startle me!"

"I'm sorry. Do you have something for me?" he asked, the loud rumble from his stomach giving away his hunger.

"Of course," she pointed to her basket and the next moment he was on his knees beside the basket on the floor, reaching for the water. His throat was parched, he needed to drink and then eat something. He only hoped she had already taken out all flowers or he might eat them too for he didn't care much what he would swallow now.

Meg was telling him something, but right now his needs were stronger than his pride or any attempt at behaving like a human being. Thirst, hunger and exhaustion had reduced him to the animalistic instinct to survive somehow. "Erik?" Meg tried again, and this time he managed to focus on her, "There is someone who wants to see you."

His head shot up and he stared at the figure standing there, some meters away. She must have hidden around a corner before, or maybe she had been there all the time and he had just been too weary to see her. Erik was still on his knees, the bottle with water in one hand, the half-eaten piece of bread in the other. He couldn't speak now for he had just taken a greedy bite, now he nearly choked on the bread as he realized who stood there.

Christine.

He managed to swallow somehow and staggered to his feet, blushing with shame at the knowledge that she had seen him like this. "Christine... you came?" he whispered.

"I had to know if you were still alive," she answered, tears running from her eyes. Erik took in her appearance. Christine was dressed in a plain dark grey dress and a dark grey shawl, as if she had come here to mourn.

He resisted his first impulse to rush to her, take her in his arms, for he was painfully aware of the stench that emanated from his unwashed body and clothing. Being filthy had been bad enough, but standing before her in such a dire state was somehow even more humiliating. "Please don't come too close," he warned her, "I know how disgusting I am."

She didn't heed his warning and came close enough to extend her hand towards him. "I don't care," she replied, "I just had to know you were alive."

"Christine... you should not be here. Go back to your Vicomte. Where I am now I can't take you with me and I'm not safe," he tried to sound calm and composed but it came out as choked whisper.

"Erik... your name is Erik, isn't it? Meg told me that this is your name. You never... never even told me your name," Christine replied.

"I do not have a name, but Antoinette... Madame Giry... gave me one because she didn't like to address me as 'Opera Ghost'," Erik answered sadly. He reached for the ring. The ring he had bought, hoping to give it to Christine as engagement ring, the ring she had given him back before fleeing with the Vicomte. He had tied the ring to his neck with a cord that was so knotted it would have to be cut to free the ring. It was the only way he could keep that ring now. It was the only valuable thing he had and he would rather die than give it away.

Christine's eyes showed him so much pity. Out of pity she had kissed him, out of pity she would have stayed with him, but he didn't see any love there.

"You have to go, every moment we are here the risk becomes higher," he warned the two girls.

"Erik, I came back... because... because..." Christine didn't find any reason she could voice now.

"Go. Leave me. It is for your own good, please, don't make this harder on me. Just go and forget me."

"Erik, I... I love you," she whispered.

He shook his head sadly. "No you don't," he replied, "You are just confused. It has been too much and I deeply regret what I did to you. You can't love me - look at me. I'm nothing but a monster, a filthy, disgusting monster running from the law. There is no way we could ever be together now. Please, my dear Christine, go. Do not humiliate me further, I do not want you to witness me degenerating to a covering animal."

"Erik..."

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what had to be done. "Christine, I've reached the end of the line. My life is over, I can only try to put off the evil hour, but I won't last much longer. You have a life worth living - go. Just go and... maybe one day you can think of me fondly." He smiled as he quoted the first grand aria she had sung on stage.

Christine kissed him. It was the second kiss in his life. He did resist the urge to hold her to his breast and never let go of her, he pushed her away gently. "Christine, go. I love you, I love you so much, but please - go now. Good bye. Good bye. I love you." He retreated to his secret trapdoor that connected the crypt with the catacombs and vanished, he was blind with tears.

Meg took the trembling Christine in her arms and held her. Had anyone seen the two girls embracing each other, shaking in violent sobs, he would have thought they had just lost a beloved relative.

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A rather long chapter for this weekend. Thank you very much for the many reviews! Thank you! I'm really happy!

Well... "Moonless Night" in LND seemed rather unrealistic to me. This is a more realistic version, I guess. They see each other, but it is in no way romantic - Erik is a fugitive, he does not have the luxury of a bath or clean clothing and he's been hiding in the catacombs and sewers for weeks. I guess in a realistic situation for a meeting not one of them would be even thinking of any intimacy. Sorry, Mr. Andrew Lloyd Webber, but a fugitive on the run is nothing anyone would want to be close to.

Next chapter will be up next week.