Sorry I took so long. To make up for it: Super LONG chapter. Please review!
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me except Dawn and the unique change in story lines. Oh, and the ballet rats.
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-
... At the end of the day, they don't mean what they say
Too many thoughts. He prayed no man would know what it was like to think as many thoughts as he was. He was drowning in them. So many things didn't make sense yet seemed so completely logical.
Who was this girl? To come here, to question him? At times, she reminded him of Christine. Christine if she was a broken child. What was she… to him? For some reason, something about Dawn unnerved him. When he thinks about her, she's like a whisper in his thoughts. Like the thoughts of a fading dream… stuck somewhere between reality and fantasy. Something about her rang as untrue, not meant to be. The way she looked at him. With eyes that were full of years that she could not have possibly lived. With pain she never could have felt. She is a paradox, an oxymoron. Broken beyond belief but somehow holding herself together.
Night always helped him think. He was thankful that tonight was not freezing, but that good kind of cold. The kind that made you shiver but relish it, the sudden kiss of cold on your cheeks. Turning even the palest, fairest cheek rosy. Erik was sure Christine's cheeks would be flushed. She'd look like the angel she is. He sighed as he continued to walk.
Night was his friend. Shielded him from the cruel gaze of strangers, carrying him to someplace warm. It protected him, the dark, and Erik filled the night with his beautiful music, a tribute. And a cold winter's night? That was bliss. Dark, cold, fresh in his mouth like the sweetest fruit. Searing his throat but soothing it all at once. Give and take. The crunch of the snow as it gave into his boots. Leaving the footsteps behind, only to have his cape brush them away. Warmth in the cold, light in the darkness. Only he could find such things that were rare to a mortal's knowledge. Only he. But that is why God punished him. To silence his genius, to crush his voice, to degrade him until all those secrets stayed stashed deep inside, never to be released.
Dawn. What a peculiar name, Dawn. It was crisp and… blunt. Straight to the point. There was no wondering what the name could possibly mean. It was right there. The moment when the sun kissed the sky good morning, painting it with beautiful colors, lighter than the sunset. She emulates light but her eyes held him in the dark, making him remember it's cool touch even in the light. She was so… unreal…
And where does she fit in? It almost feels as though she doesn't fit into this puzzle. Almost as if she wasn't meant to be here. Like this tale, if you saw life as a story, was meant to be without her. But something, someone, had decided that she was to stay and he was to find her. It made no sense. But somehow, it seemed so completely logical.
-*-
When Erik reentered his kingdom, he decided to prowl. He was restless, anxious. He needed to do something to release this horrid tension in his chest. He felt himself banging into the invisible glass ceiling once more, the hammer just out of reach. Teasing torture to drive a madman sane and a sane man mad. One of his eyebrows arched, or perhaps he was too forgone already to be considered sane anymore. Any man who presumes to be the Angel of Music must be off his rocker, as in he got up and flung himself across the planes of sanity. He froze. Voices. The ballet rats approached, chattering loudly. Squeak, squeak, squawk, squawk… like hens with water thrown on them! He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, which would be far too childish. He wouldn't have even stopped to listen to their mindless prattle but something made him froze.
Christine…
He stopped. They mentioned her name. Now he was paying attention. Watching their every move, their every expression. However, all of them were paying far too much attention to what was happening to listen to their gut that was screaming at them that someone was watching. Except for Meg. Meg Giry was always an odd child. As much as she was apart of her group, she was an outsider as well. She listened to gossip and spread some herself, but even she knew when it was too much, too cruel. Meg was never cruel, she could be mean, but not cruel. And ever since meeting the Ghost, she's always known when he was there. And she never said a word. Unless of course, it was completely obvious he was there. Then she'd send a warning for them…
He's here: the Phantom of the Opera!
No one noticed Meg stiffen. She looked about, her dark chocolate eyes darting about. Her hand came up to brush her collarbone. She stopped, almost feeling him out. Using the invisible sixth sense to touch upon the emotion that came from him. She relaxed when she sensed no hatred, no rage. Sometimes when she became sensitive to the emotions in the air, his rage would coil in her stomach like a snake, eating her inside out until she wanted to scream and cry tears of blood. But she only felt curiosity and anxiousness. She didn't understand until she heard too.
Christine…
Meg jumped into the conversation at once. "What's this you say about Christine?"
Nicole laughed, tossing her glorious red hair over her shoulder. "Silly Meg, haven't you heard? She's coming back!"
If this was a cartoon, both Meg and Erik's jaw would drop to the ground and their eyes would bug out.
"What?" Meg gasped.
Helen giggled, "She really hasn't heard! Meg, what is the matter with you, Meg dear? You haven't been on your game lately." She sighed, disappointed. She was the picture in the dictionary next to 'dumb blonde'. "Christine is coming to the mask!"
"Really?" Meg questioned, hardly daring to believe.
"Really!" Nicole said. "And with that drop dead gorgeous Vicomte too!"
Meg's smile fell. Helen automatically misread her look. "Oh poor Meggie, you had your eyes on him too? Oh well, there are plenty more fish in the sea." She paused. "But I still don't see why Miss Goody Two Shoes has to get the best of 'em."
Meg glared. "Helen, you shouldn't say such things! Especially when she isn't here to defend herself!"
"Ha!" Helen exclaimed. "Christine? Defend herself? The whole idea is perposturous. She'd probably wither into some corner…" Helen started doing a horrible impression of Christine. "Please, that isn't nice- leave me alone! I want my daddy! Waaaa!"
All of the girls fell into giggles. Except Meg and surprisingly, Nicole.
"It's no surprise why you're not an actress," Meg spat.
She knew she was in trouble right away. For two different reasons. One was the fact that she could feel the Ghost's anger clamping down on her. It's clammy hands wrapped about her, possessing her. Making her move like a puppet and yet being its willing participant. The other reason was the obviously pissed off Helen and the silent ballet rats.
"What did you say?" Helen sneered as she stepped closer.
"I said, it's no surprise that you are not an actress," Meg paused. "So you're deaf as well as dumb now?"
Helen's jaw clenched and her eyes glared at Meg. "How dare you speak to me that way? You know its true. How girls like me really deserve a guy like that, but don't get them because girls like Christine flaunt their virginity in the guys faces?"
Meg rolled her eyes before matching Helen's glare and becoming even more terrifying. "You wouldn't have to worry about that if you weren't such a whore in the first place." Her voice was low, but the intensity was loud.
Helen was speechless before her hand collided with Meg's face. She smacking sound echoed through the halls of the Opera House. Meg's startled cry followed it.
"That's it Meg, cry out to your mommy. How do you think you moved up in the opera house? Because you're talented? Ha, that's a laugh. It's because your mother probably fucked the managers until they agreed. She's a slut, just like you."
Silence.
-*-
Erik had remained silent through out this ordeal, using Meg as his voice. Prodding her with his anger, but not putting words in her mouth. His rage was all around him, filling his eyes. They dared to slander Christine's name!
Christine, the pure among them. The one who refused to give up her chastity just for bragging rights. The one who refused to give up her honor for gossip. The one who felt like a real person. Innocent and naïve she may be, but no one should dare belittle her in his presence.
Before he did anything, little Meg jumped to her friend's defense. He smiled, somehow proud of her. She could run with the sheep, but she knew when to have a backbone. She was a lot stronger than she appeared, Miss Giry, a diamond in the rough.
But then she hit her.
Helen. Helen was the blackest one of them all. Self centered and cruel to the bone. She had created up a new scientific theory that the universe was not heliocentric, it revolved around her instead. She was vain and mean. Her beauty hid the snake hidden within. He pitied the man that took her hand in marriage and could only hope that the 'lucky fellow' was what she deserved.
At Meg's silence, he knew she was grasping. But he knew if she said something, it would come out weak. No one had ever hit little Meg before.
"INSOLENT GIRL!" A voice said, ringing in Helen's ears.
She jumped and screamed. "What the devil-?"
"How DARE you speak of anyone that way. You're a little fool. A spoiled child who steps on whoever she can to get on the top. But the point is that you don't deserve the top. You AREN'T good enough. You are nothing. You're best isn't even close to being good enough."
Helen glared. "How dare you say something like that to me? Where are you?" She spun, seeing the puzzled looks from the corps. "Didn't you hear it? The voice?"
Whispers automatically started. 'She's hearing voices?' 'Helen's gone mad!' 'Off to the sanitarium for you!'
"I'm NOT mad!" Helen growled, looking very much like a pit bull.
"Yes you are, Helen dear. You are quite mad. You are nothing! Carlotta is better than you and that isn't saying much. You are crazy, insane. Their everywhere, you know. The people who hate you, who KNOW what you are. Insane. Yes, that's it quite mad!" The voice hissed in her ear.
Helen looked around, almost feeling those eyes on her. "No, I-I'm not mad! I'm NOT insane, I swear it!" She looked at no one and said, "Stop looking at me! STOP IT!" She screamed, before running down the hall.
The entire corps followed her, eager to see what events would occur due this new development.
"Are you hurt?" asked the Ghost, owner of the voice.
"I'll be all right," Meg said, smiling. "Thank you."
"You are most welcome, little Giry. Now off to your mother, I'm sure she is worried."
Meg nodded and whispered a final earnest thank you to the Ghost she has never seen.
-*-
When he arrived home, he found Dawn sitting patiently on the couch. She had her eyes closed, but she was not asleep. Simply floating on oblivion, teasing it. Her eyes flew open when he drew near.
"Does it help?" she asked.
He looked at his damp clothing and thought back on the evening before he shrugged. "Doesn't hurt."
"Better now then?" she said, rising timidly.
He nodded stiffly as he removed his cloak and hat.
"Why won't you let me see you?"
Her voice cut the comfortable silence that had been beginning to settle. Now it ran from them, yipping like a tiny dog and licking at it's wounds. Erik's body froze. Her words had the effect on him that the winter's cold has been trying to curse him with all night.
"How can you ask me such things? Do I ask about your blindness?"
She paused. "I understand that I'm being rude. But… I want you to know that you can trust me… that I don't fear you."
"After looking at my face, Mademoiselle, I fear your opinion may change."
He started to head toward his bedroom when her voice stopped him again.
"You're deformed, aren't you?"
Her voice was crisp and had the metallic sting to it, like the taste of blood. Her eyes bore into his back, looking straight through him and into his soul. His very mind.
"How dare you ask me such a thing?" He growled, turning on her. If she were anyone else, she would have fled from the murderous gleam in his eye. Unfortunately for him, she wasn't.
"Erik, I've lived on the streets for a great deal of my life. Do you truly believe that there is no one out there who shares the same fate?"
'From time to time, certain bone structures are repeated without a blood tie. No human face is entirely unique, my dear. I daresay somewhere in the world there may be another poor devil who looks like me.'
He froze. He was torn in-between shock and disdain. She all ready knew. Wouldn't that frighten her? His face frightened himself and it's his face.
He wanted to reply, he really did, but when he could finally formed words a sound made them both jump. The alarms.
"What was that?" Dawn said nervously.
"Nothing for you to worry about, stay here."
He left after swiftly placing his hat and cloak on.
If he had stayed a moment longer he would have heard Dawn mumble, "Absolutely nothing is wrong but get down on your knees and pray to God for mercy." She rolled her eyes. "Men."
-*-
Nadir had traveled into Erik's lair before. He practically knew the way by heart. Which gives no explanation about how Nadir tripped over one of the alarms and fell to the ground, swearing in Persian all the way.
He continued to swear at that alarm, cursing it for everything it's ever done or stood for. That poor inanimate object, it isn't fair how people treat them. How many times a day do people blame poor defenseless lifeless objects for their own clumsiness? People should be more considerate.
Erik was upset at first, wondering who would dare to stalk below when he heard the string of profanities. And he was calm. After all, who cursed in Persian?
"Having a little trouble?" Erik laughed.
Nadir had the decency to blush at his foolishness. "Yes. Why thank you for offering to help me."
Erik smirked. "I don't believe I did. Nadir you must be going senile in your old age."
"Ugh, don't tell me I look old!" Nadir mock-gasped.
The two gentlemen laughed and Erik helped his friend up. "All joking aside, there is something I must tell you."
Erik became very serious. "Go on."
"Why don't we go inside and talk about it? It's freezing out here!" Nadir headed toward the house.
Immediately Erik stopped. Dawn was in the house. If Nadir found out about Dawn, he would never hear the end of it. EVER. Nadir may be friendly, but when it came down to Erik + a young girl it never ended well.
"I'm sure you could tell me out here, Nadir, if it's that important," Erik said.
Nadir started toward the house, "Erik, I am not you. I cannot survive in this freezing cold tomb."
"Ah, so that's what you think of this place, Nadir." Erik glared. "Well, by all means get out."
Nadir sighed. "Erik, please don't make this any harder for me or for yourself. Let's just go inside."
Erik stood in front of the door. "No."
Nadir's eyes widened and took on a suspicious glow. "She's in there, isn't she?"
Erik raised an eyebrow. "Of whom do you speak of?"
Nadir now glared. "Don't play the fool with me, Erik. If she's in there against her will-."
"She was never in there against her will, Nadir! She always wanted to come, so don't you dare point your accusing finger at me," Erik snarled through clenched teeth.
"I wouldn't if you didn't give me a reason to!" Nadir snarled back.
Erik's gaze grew darker and Nadir suddenly remembered just whom he was speaking to. Nadir tried to comfort himself by saying that Erik would never hurt him, but he was never sure of that.
"Poor Nadir, still clinging to your useless morals. You should know this by now, Daroga, that the world isn't in black and white. Justice doesn't always prevail and the good guys aren't always valiant."
Nadir sighed. "Just tell me if she's in there, Erik."
Erik moved out of the way. "You may enter, but you will not find who you seek."
Nadir entered and looked around. He opened the doors to the music room and Christine's room. There was no one. He stood for a minute and listened. Not a whisper of a breath, not a swish of the silk dresses Erik clothed her in. Just pure silence. Nadir sighed in relief.
Erik waited for a commotion. He heard Nadir snoop about and look for his protégé, but could not find her. Erik hoped that Nadir wouldn't find Dawn. She would be harder to explain- or at least more confusing. Erik paused and listened. There was nothing. Not a startled female scream. Not a horrified male gasp. Just silence. Erik sighed in relief. Dawn must have hid herself somewhere.
Erik concluded that Dawn must have an extraordinary talent for hiding, for when he entered his home, there was not a trace of Dawn anywhere.
-*-
Please review for me!
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me except Dawn and the unique change in story lines. Oh, and the ballet rats.
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-
... At the end of the day, they don't mean what they say
Too many thoughts. He prayed no man would know what it was like to think as many thoughts as he was. He was drowning in them. So many things didn't make sense yet seemed so completely logical.
Who was this girl? To come here, to question him? At times, she reminded him of Christine. Christine if she was a broken child. What was she… to him? For some reason, something about Dawn unnerved him. When he thinks about her, she's like a whisper in his thoughts. Like the thoughts of a fading dream… stuck somewhere between reality and fantasy. Something about her rang as untrue, not meant to be. The way she looked at him. With eyes that were full of years that she could not have possibly lived. With pain she never could have felt. She is a paradox, an oxymoron. Broken beyond belief but somehow holding herself together.
Night always helped him think. He was thankful that tonight was not freezing, but that good kind of cold. The kind that made you shiver but relish it, the sudden kiss of cold on your cheeks. Turning even the palest, fairest cheek rosy. Erik was sure Christine's cheeks would be flushed. She'd look like the angel she is. He sighed as he continued to walk.
Night was his friend. Shielded him from the cruel gaze of strangers, carrying him to someplace warm. It protected him, the dark, and Erik filled the night with his beautiful music, a tribute. And a cold winter's night? That was bliss. Dark, cold, fresh in his mouth like the sweetest fruit. Searing his throat but soothing it all at once. Give and take. The crunch of the snow as it gave into his boots. Leaving the footsteps behind, only to have his cape brush them away. Warmth in the cold, light in the darkness. Only he could find such things that were rare to a mortal's knowledge. Only he. But that is why God punished him. To silence his genius, to crush his voice, to degrade him until all those secrets stayed stashed deep inside, never to be released.
Dawn. What a peculiar name, Dawn. It was crisp and… blunt. Straight to the point. There was no wondering what the name could possibly mean. It was right there. The moment when the sun kissed the sky good morning, painting it with beautiful colors, lighter than the sunset. She emulates light but her eyes held him in the dark, making him remember it's cool touch even in the light. She was so… unreal…
And where does she fit in? It almost feels as though she doesn't fit into this puzzle. Almost as if she wasn't meant to be here. Like this tale, if you saw life as a story, was meant to be without her. But something, someone, had decided that she was to stay and he was to find her. It made no sense. But somehow, it seemed so completely logical.
-*-
When Erik reentered his kingdom, he decided to prowl. He was restless, anxious. He needed to do something to release this horrid tension in his chest. He felt himself banging into the invisible glass ceiling once more, the hammer just out of reach. Teasing torture to drive a madman sane and a sane man mad. One of his eyebrows arched, or perhaps he was too forgone already to be considered sane anymore. Any man who presumes to be the Angel of Music must be off his rocker, as in he got up and flung himself across the planes of sanity. He froze. Voices. The ballet rats approached, chattering loudly. Squeak, squeak, squawk, squawk… like hens with water thrown on them! He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, which would be far too childish. He wouldn't have even stopped to listen to their mindless prattle but something made him froze.
Christine…
He stopped. They mentioned her name. Now he was paying attention. Watching their every move, their every expression. However, all of them were paying far too much attention to what was happening to listen to their gut that was screaming at them that someone was watching. Except for Meg. Meg Giry was always an odd child. As much as she was apart of her group, she was an outsider as well. She listened to gossip and spread some herself, but even she knew when it was too much, too cruel. Meg was never cruel, she could be mean, but not cruel. And ever since meeting the Ghost, she's always known when he was there. And she never said a word. Unless of course, it was completely obvious he was there. Then she'd send a warning for them…
He's here: the Phantom of the Opera!
No one noticed Meg stiffen. She looked about, her dark chocolate eyes darting about. Her hand came up to brush her collarbone. She stopped, almost feeling him out. Using the invisible sixth sense to touch upon the emotion that came from him. She relaxed when she sensed no hatred, no rage. Sometimes when she became sensitive to the emotions in the air, his rage would coil in her stomach like a snake, eating her inside out until she wanted to scream and cry tears of blood. But she only felt curiosity and anxiousness. She didn't understand until she heard too.
Christine…
Meg jumped into the conversation at once. "What's this you say about Christine?"
Nicole laughed, tossing her glorious red hair over her shoulder. "Silly Meg, haven't you heard? She's coming back!"
If this was a cartoon, both Meg and Erik's jaw would drop to the ground and their eyes would bug out.
"What?" Meg gasped.
Helen giggled, "She really hasn't heard! Meg, what is the matter with you, Meg dear? You haven't been on your game lately." She sighed, disappointed. She was the picture in the dictionary next to 'dumb blonde'. "Christine is coming to the mask!"
"Really?" Meg questioned, hardly daring to believe.
"Really!" Nicole said. "And with that drop dead gorgeous Vicomte too!"
Meg's smile fell. Helen automatically misread her look. "Oh poor Meggie, you had your eyes on him too? Oh well, there are plenty more fish in the sea." She paused. "But I still don't see why Miss Goody Two Shoes has to get the best of 'em."
Meg glared. "Helen, you shouldn't say such things! Especially when she isn't here to defend herself!"
"Ha!" Helen exclaimed. "Christine? Defend herself? The whole idea is perposturous. She'd probably wither into some corner…" Helen started doing a horrible impression of Christine. "Please, that isn't nice- leave me alone! I want my daddy! Waaaa!"
All of the girls fell into giggles. Except Meg and surprisingly, Nicole.
"It's no surprise why you're not an actress," Meg spat.
She knew she was in trouble right away. For two different reasons. One was the fact that she could feel the Ghost's anger clamping down on her. It's clammy hands wrapped about her, possessing her. Making her move like a puppet and yet being its willing participant. The other reason was the obviously pissed off Helen and the silent ballet rats.
"What did you say?" Helen sneered as she stepped closer.
"I said, it's no surprise that you are not an actress," Meg paused. "So you're deaf as well as dumb now?"
Helen's jaw clenched and her eyes glared at Meg. "How dare you speak to me that way? You know its true. How girls like me really deserve a guy like that, but don't get them because girls like Christine flaunt their virginity in the guys faces?"
Meg rolled her eyes before matching Helen's glare and becoming even more terrifying. "You wouldn't have to worry about that if you weren't such a whore in the first place." Her voice was low, but the intensity was loud.
Helen was speechless before her hand collided with Meg's face. She smacking sound echoed through the halls of the Opera House. Meg's startled cry followed it.
"That's it Meg, cry out to your mommy. How do you think you moved up in the opera house? Because you're talented? Ha, that's a laugh. It's because your mother probably fucked the managers until they agreed. She's a slut, just like you."
Silence.
-*-
Erik had remained silent through out this ordeal, using Meg as his voice. Prodding her with his anger, but not putting words in her mouth. His rage was all around him, filling his eyes. They dared to slander Christine's name!
Christine, the pure among them. The one who refused to give up her chastity just for bragging rights. The one who refused to give up her honor for gossip. The one who felt like a real person. Innocent and naïve she may be, but no one should dare belittle her in his presence.
Before he did anything, little Meg jumped to her friend's defense. He smiled, somehow proud of her. She could run with the sheep, but she knew when to have a backbone. She was a lot stronger than she appeared, Miss Giry, a diamond in the rough.
But then she hit her.
Helen. Helen was the blackest one of them all. Self centered and cruel to the bone. She had created up a new scientific theory that the universe was not heliocentric, it revolved around her instead. She was vain and mean. Her beauty hid the snake hidden within. He pitied the man that took her hand in marriage and could only hope that the 'lucky fellow' was what she deserved.
At Meg's silence, he knew she was grasping. But he knew if she said something, it would come out weak. No one had ever hit little Meg before.
"INSOLENT GIRL!" A voice said, ringing in Helen's ears.
She jumped and screamed. "What the devil-?"
"How DARE you speak of anyone that way. You're a little fool. A spoiled child who steps on whoever she can to get on the top. But the point is that you don't deserve the top. You AREN'T good enough. You are nothing. You're best isn't even close to being good enough."
Helen glared. "How dare you say something like that to me? Where are you?" She spun, seeing the puzzled looks from the corps. "Didn't you hear it? The voice?"
Whispers automatically started. 'She's hearing voices?' 'Helen's gone mad!' 'Off to the sanitarium for you!'
"I'm NOT mad!" Helen growled, looking very much like a pit bull.
"Yes you are, Helen dear. You are quite mad. You are nothing! Carlotta is better than you and that isn't saying much. You are crazy, insane. Their everywhere, you know. The people who hate you, who KNOW what you are. Insane. Yes, that's it quite mad!" The voice hissed in her ear.
Helen looked around, almost feeling those eyes on her. "No, I-I'm not mad! I'm NOT insane, I swear it!" She looked at no one and said, "Stop looking at me! STOP IT!" She screamed, before running down the hall.
The entire corps followed her, eager to see what events would occur due this new development.
"Are you hurt?" asked the Ghost, owner of the voice.
"I'll be all right," Meg said, smiling. "Thank you."
"You are most welcome, little Giry. Now off to your mother, I'm sure she is worried."
Meg nodded and whispered a final earnest thank you to the Ghost she has never seen.
-*-
When he arrived home, he found Dawn sitting patiently on the couch. She had her eyes closed, but she was not asleep. Simply floating on oblivion, teasing it. Her eyes flew open when he drew near.
"Does it help?" she asked.
He looked at his damp clothing and thought back on the evening before he shrugged. "Doesn't hurt."
"Better now then?" she said, rising timidly.
He nodded stiffly as he removed his cloak and hat.
"Why won't you let me see you?"
Her voice cut the comfortable silence that had been beginning to settle. Now it ran from them, yipping like a tiny dog and licking at it's wounds. Erik's body froze. Her words had the effect on him that the winter's cold has been trying to curse him with all night.
"How can you ask me such things? Do I ask about your blindness?"
She paused. "I understand that I'm being rude. But… I want you to know that you can trust me… that I don't fear you."
"After looking at my face, Mademoiselle, I fear your opinion may change."
He started to head toward his bedroom when her voice stopped him again.
"You're deformed, aren't you?"
Her voice was crisp and had the metallic sting to it, like the taste of blood. Her eyes bore into his back, looking straight through him and into his soul. His very mind.
"How dare you ask me such a thing?" He growled, turning on her. If she were anyone else, she would have fled from the murderous gleam in his eye. Unfortunately for him, she wasn't.
"Erik, I've lived on the streets for a great deal of my life. Do you truly believe that there is no one out there who shares the same fate?"
'From time to time, certain bone structures are repeated without a blood tie. No human face is entirely unique, my dear. I daresay somewhere in the world there may be another poor devil who looks like me.'
He froze. He was torn in-between shock and disdain. She all ready knew. Wouldn't that frighten her? His face frightened himself and it's his face.
He wanted to reply, he really did, but when he could finally formed words a sound made them both jump. The alarms.
"What was that?" Dawn said nervously.
"Nothing for you to worry about, stay here."
He left after swiftly placing his hat and cloak on.
If he had stayed a moment longer he would have heard Dawn mumble, "Absolutely nothing is wrong but get down on your knees and pray to God for mercy." She rolled her eyes. "Men."
-*-
Nadir had traveled into Erik's lair before. He practically knew the way by heart. Which gives no explanation about how Nadir tripped over one of the alarms and fell to the ground, swearing in Persian all the way.
He continued to swear at that alarm, cursing it for everything it's ever done or stood for. That poor inanimate object, it isn't fair how people treat them. How many times a day do people blame poor defenseless lifeless objects for their own clumsiness? People should be more considerate.
Erik was upset at first, wondering who would dare to stalk below when he heard the string of profanities. And he was calm. After all, who cursed in Persian?
"Having a little trouble?" Erik laughed.
Nadir had the decency to blush at his foolishness. "Yes. Why thank you for offering to help me."
Erik smirked. "I don't believe I did. Nadir you must be going senile in your old age."
"Ugh, don't tell me I look old!" Nadir mock-gasped.
The two gentlemen laughed and Erik helped his friend up. "All joking aside, there is something I must tell you."
Erik became very serious. "Go on."
"Why don't we go inside and talk about it? It's freezing out here!" Nadir headed toward the house.
Immediately Erik stopped. Dawn was in the house. If Nadir found out about Dawn, he would never hear the end of it. EVER. Nadir may be friendly, but when it came down to Erik + a young girl it never ended well.
"I'm sure you could tell me out here, Nadir, if it's that important," Erik said.
Nadir started toward the house, "Erik, I am not you. I cannot survive in this freezing cold tomb."
"Ah, so that's what you think of this place, Nadir." Erik glared. "Well, by all means get out."
Nadir sighed. "Erik, please don't make this any harder for me or for yourself. Let's just go inside."
Erik stood in front of the door. "No."
Nadir's eyes widened and took on a suspicious glow. "She's in there, isn't she?"
Erik raised an eyebrow. "Of whom do you speak of?"
Nadir now glared. "Don't play the fool with me, Erik. If she's in there against her will-."
"She was never in there against her will, Nadir! She always wanted to come, so don't you dare point your accusing finger at me," Erik snarled through clenched teeth.
"I wouldn't if you didn't give me a reason to!" Nadir snarled back.
Erik's gaze grew darker and Nadir suddenly remembered just whom he was speaking to. Nadir tried to comfort himself by saying that Erik would never hurt him, but he was never sure of that.
"Poor Nadir, still clinging to your useless morals. You should know this by now, Daroga, that the world isn't in black and white. Justice doesn't always prevail and the good guys aren't always valiant."
Nadir sighed. "Just tell me if she's in there, Erik."
Erik moved out of the way. "You may enter, but you will not find who you seek."
Nadir entered and looked around. He opened the doors to the music room and Christine's room. There was no one. He stood for a minute and listened. Not a whisper of a breath, not a swish of the silk dresses Erik clothed her in. Just pure silence. Nadir sighed in relief.
Erik waited for a commotion. He heard Nadir snoop about and look for his protégé, but could not find her. Erik hoped that Nadir wouldn't find Dawn. She would be harder to explain- or at least more confusing. Erik paused and listened. There was nothing. Not a startled female scream. Not a horrified male gasp. Just silence. Erik sighed in relief. Dawn must have hid herself somewhere.
Erik concluded that Dawn must have an extraordinary talent for hiding, for when he entered his home, there was not a trace of Dawn anywhere.
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