Disclaimer: Phantom of the Opera is obviously not mine.
The Fate of the Heart
*flashback*
*erik*
He sank down into the worn couch and hid his masked face in his hands.
"Here. You look like you need some." He looked up slightly, and nodded his thanks in the general direction of the fingers holding the cup. Taking it from the delicate hands, he asked, "The paper. For a week ago?" Before he could even set down the cup, the paper was stuck under his hands into his lap. He wondered if he dared to look at it. His newfound hope, his hidden dreams so recently found and again so recently crushed... the fate of them all rested in a bit of paper and ink. 'How frivolous,' he thought. 'to be concerned over a few words on a piece of paper.' And yet... this piece of paper not only told of the past, but held the vision of the future. Christine's future; and his as well, for he and Christine were too much a part of each other now. One's future was also the others; one's decision affected the other's entire life.
He was scared of this small piece of paper.
"Could you read this out loud? I can't see. The... the darkness has effected my vision." Even to him it sounded absurd, but she was a good girl, and did not argue.
She took the paper from his hand, and started to read to him:
"'Wealthy Vicomte Found Dead, 'Foul Play?' ask Authorities
On Tuesday, a wedding was replaced with a funeral, and Paris lost not one, but two of their most prosperous and intriguing citizens. Only two weeks before his wedding, the prominent Vicomte de Chagny was found dead, without explanation, in his brother's guest house. To add to the unsolved mystery, Christine Daaé, his fiancée, has disappeared from the Paris scene without at trace. While close friends and family do not suspect Mlle. Daaé of having any part in the Vicomte's death, local police still haven't ruled out the possibility of her participation in this affair. Says one offic-'"
"Stop!" he hissed. Even to think that the blame was being put on her was too much for him. Slowly, he regained his composure and stood. "I'm sorry, ma fille, if I frightened you. It's the-"
"I understand." She said softly, and for a moment, he believed her.
After a long pause, he broke the silence by walking towards the desk. He wrote something down on the back of the article, and handed it to her. "I need you to send this note to the chief of police as soon as is possible. You should know it's of much importance, so I know you won't stop to spread gossip with those silly girls in the corps." He said the words in awful seriousness, but his eyes betrayed his inward laughter. Somehow, just looking at this child lightened his heart. If that was possible anymore.
She dared to grin at him, but still took the note from him with caution. He mentally shook his head; to the world he would always be the Opera Ghost. Even to his loyal... dare he say it... friend, who had known him since birth, was afraid to touch him. Amazing how blind the world could be. He was always so stunned at it.
"So what will you tell her?" She broke the silence this time. He snapped out of his reverie, and stared at her for a moment. He had not thought about that. How obvious, and yet... to break the child's heart yet again would take a courage he wasn't sure he had.
But she was not a child anymore, he realized. No, he had done that to her. He had taken away her innocence, stripped it away and tried to replace it with love. The love... the love he wanted her to return to him.
It was too late for that now. All Christine needed from him was good advice and a pair of arms to run to. To be her angel once more. How ironic it was; once she ran from his protection and now she hunted for it. In her moment of need, she ran to the man who had caused this whole ordeal. And now he was to guide her to her happiness. If only her happiness was with him.
"I suppose I'll just tell her the truth. I've lied to many times before, and look what's come of it." He sighed, and gave her a look of utmost despair.
"She still..." she started with sympathy in her eyes. He saw what was coming, and did not think he could take the ringing hollowness of her words.
"I don't want to hear it. I don't need your pity and lies. You'll just make it worse, ma fille." He turned away, but was still reluctant to walk out the door. He knew reality awaited him on the other side. So he sat again, waiting for her to speak.
Long silence again filled the room. He knew she was as stubborn as he; she would not talk unless provoked. He stole a glance at her, and saw her reading the note he had written to the chief of police. As she skimmed it she absentmindedly read parts of the note out loud. "Please know I'm watching your case with considerable care... Mlle. Daaé had no part in the Vicomte's death... Do not search for her anymore, she is under the wing of family..." she looked up at him. 'Family??' her eyes said. He chose not to respond. She continued with strengthening sarcasm. "... Mlle. Daaé's things should be delivered to me... The newspapers will tell of Christine Daaé's innocence in the morning... I hope you take my advice. You would not like the consequences. Your obedient friend" She snorted at his blunt words, and he looked at her indignantly. "You never change, do you Erik? You will always insist on having your way. You will never accept less than perfect. And you will always love her-"
He sprang up on her before she knew what had happened. "You just insist on prying into business which is not yours, don't you?" he spat at her frightened face. Then he turned from her and disappeared before she could see his unshed tears.
And as she watched him go, Meg wondered if she would ever see them happy.
The Fate of the Heart
*flashback*
*erik*
He sank down into the worn couch and hid his masked face in his hands.
"Here. You look like you need some." He looked up slightly, and nodded his thanks in the general direction of the fingers holding the cup. Taking it from the delicate hands, he asked, "The paper. For a week ago?" Before he could even set down the cup, the paper was stuck under his hands into his lap. He wondered if he dared to look at it. His newfound hope, his hidden dreams so recently found and again so recently crushed... the fate of them all rested in a bit of paper and ink. 'How frivolous,' he thought. 'to be concerned over a few words on a piece of paper.' And yet... this piece of paper not only told of the past, but held the vision of the future. Christine's future; and his as well, for he and Christine were too much a part of each other now. One's future was also the others; one's decision affected the other's entire life.
He was scared of this small piece of paper.
"Could you read this out loud? I can't see. The... the darkness has effected my vision." Even to him it sounded absurd, but she was a good girl, and did not argue.
She took the paper from his hand, and started to read to him:
"'Wealthy Vicomte Found Dead, 'Foul Play?' ask Authorities
On Tuesday, a wedding was replaced with a funeral, and Paris lost not one, but two of their most prosperous and intriguing citizens. Only two weeks before his wedding, the prominent Vicomte de Chagny was found dead, without explanation, in his brother's guest house. To add to the unsolved mystery, Christine Daaé, his fiancée, has disappeared from the Paris scene without at trace. While close friends and family do not suspect Mlle. Daaé of having any part in the Vicomte's death, local police still haven't ruled out the possibility of her participation in this affair. Says one offic-'"
"Stop!" he hissed. Even to think that the blame was being put on her was too much for him. Slowly, he regained his composure and stood. "I'm sorry, ma fille, if I frightened you. It's the-"
"I understand." She said softly, and for a moment, he believed her.
After a long pause, he broke the silence by walking towards the desk. He wrote something down on the back of the article, and handed it to her. "I need you to send this note to the chief of police as soon as is possible. You should know it's of much importance, so I know you won't stop to spread gossip with those silly girls in the corps." He said the words in awful seriousness, but his eyes betrayed his inward laughter. Somehow, just looking at this child lightened his heart. If that was possible anymore.
She dared to grin at him, but still took the note from him with caution. He mentally shook his head; to the world he would always be the Opera Ghost. Even to his loyal... dare he say it... friend, who had known him since birth, was afraid to touch him. Amazing how blind the world could be. He was always so stunned at it.
"So what will you tell her?" She broke the silence this time. He snapped out of his reverie, and stared at her for a moment. He had not thought about that. How obvious, and yet... to break the child's heart yet again would take a courage he wasn't sure he had.
But she was not a child anymore, he realized. No, he had done that to her. He had taken away her innocence, stripped it away and tried to replace it with love. The love... the love he wanted her to return to him.
It was too late for that now. All Christine needed from him was good advice and a pair of arms to run to. To be her angel once more. How ironic it was; once she ran from his protection and now she hunted for it. In her moment of need, she ran to the man who had caused this whole ordeal. And now he was to guide her to her happiness. If only her happiness was with him.
"I suppose I'll just tell her the truth. I've lied to many times before, and look what's come of it." He sighed, and gave her a look of utmost despair.
"She still..." she started with sympathy in her eyes. He saw what was coming, and did not think he could take the ringing hollowness of her words.
"I don't want to hear it. I don't need your pity and lies. You'll just make it worse, ma fille." He turned away, but was still reluctant to walk out the door. He knew reality awaited him on the other side. So he sat again, waiting for her to speak.
Long silence again filled the room. He knew she was as stubborn as he; she would not talk unless provoked. He stole a glance at her, and saw her reading the note he had written to the chief of police. As she skimmed it she absentmindedly read parts of the note out loud. "Please know I'm watching your case with considerable care... Mlle. Daaé had no part in the Vicomte's death... Do not search for her anymore, she is under the wing of family..." she looked up at him. 'Family??' her eyes said. He chose not to respond. She continued with strengthening sarcasm. "... Mlle. Daaé's things should be delivered to me... The newspapers will tell of Christine Daaé's innocence in the morning... I hope you take my advice. You would not like the consequences. Your obedient friend" She snorted at his blunt words, and he looked at her indignantly. "You never change, do you Erik? You will always insist on having your way. You will never accept less than perfect. And you will always love her-"
He sprang up on her before she knew what had happened. "You just insist on prying into business which is not yours, don't you?" he spat at her frightened face. Then he turned from her and disappeared before she could see his unshed tears.
And as she watched him go, Meg wondered if she would ever see them happy.