Disclaimer: I don't own The Phantom of the Opera in any of its mediums. Nor do I own X-Men: Evolution.

Thanks so much, InterNutter and Tailfeather! I'm sorry the wait for this chapter was a mite long...I had business to attend to. To make up for it, I will try to post the sixth chapter on Saturday.

I also apologize, in advance, for introducing an OC into this tale of mine. As I said, it was written for a friend, so both of us (although altered somewhat) are in this story. But aside from moving the plot along, the OCs in thisstory do nothing Mary-Sueish. No romance with canon characters, no screwing around with the overall X-Men: Evolution canon.

Chapter Five: The New Solution

After Lance had swallowed two aspirin, and Todd had been brought back to the world of the living, (too lazy to stick him under cold water, Fred had put a pillow over the Toad's face and taken it off when the smaller mutant had started thrashing) the three Brotherhood members regrouped around the kitchen table, where the entire mess had started.

While Todd sulked in his chair, humiliated at both Fred's method of reviving him and the fact that he had fainted in the first place, the Blob was stuffing his face with corn chips, happily oblivious to the world around him as he gorged.

Lance, however, did not afford himself that luxury. He was pacing the kitchen fretfully, occasionally staring up at the ceiling as if the specter that haunted them would magically appear. All his relaxation had fled with Tabby, and every single muscle he possessed was tense with worry and anticipation.

Never until now had Lance come close to being as tense as his archrival Scott Summers, and now the rock-shaker was in danger of passing that level. Though anyone who even suggested a comparison like that to Lance would have soon found all his teeth missing and the ground shaken out from under him.

"We need a new plan." Lance said, stopping his pace in front of the table. Freddy stopped chewing, and Todd stared at him sullenly.

"Yeah, I got a plan." The Toad snapped. "How 'bout we get the hell out of here and not come back? Or just keep makin' PB&J, and never set foot on the third floor again? Those sound like pretty good plans to me."

"What?! You little chicken!" Lance shouted, slamming his fist on the table right in front of Todd. "Are you just gonna sit there and let some voice tell us what to do? Are you gonna let him snatch this house right out from under us? C'mon, Todd! Are you a man, or a mouse???"

"Neither. I'm certifiably cold-blooded. Last doctor I went to said so."

Lance slapped his forehead. "That's not what I meant, and you know it. Now, does anybody have any suggestions as to what to do next? Suggestions that don't involve giving in or running away?"

There was a very long pause. So long, it gave Lance enough time to realize that his life had hit a dead end, and then enough time for him to mentally retrace his steps and work out exactly how he'd gotten himself here in the first place.

"Well...we could go ask the X-Men for help." Freddy offered finally, crumbling a bit of corn chip between his fingers.

Lance seriously considered this for a moment, but then realized that a) He'd rather chew his own arm off than be willingly aided by the X-Men, b) if Kitty came there was no way he could guarantee she wouldn't get hurt by this bodiless voice, and c) he'd rather chew his own arm off than be willingly aided by the X-Men.

"No." He stated firmly. "A fairly good idea Freddy, but no. We don't need to be in their debt, not over something as minor as this."

"Man, a scary voice that makes fans drop and Boom-booms croak is not minor!!!"

Lance ignored Todd, and looked at Fred. "Do you have any other good suggestions?"

Fred pondered this for a moment, a strained expression on his face. It occurred to Lance that all this thinking must be making the Blob's head hurt, and he'd probably be in need of the aspirin as well, by the end of the day.

"History class."

"What?" Todd asked, whipping his head around to look at Freddy.

Lance was equally confused. "History class? What does school have to do with any of this?"

"There's this girl in my history class." Fred explained. "She was my partner for a project on the Civil War. First time I ever got an A in that class. And she's sorta like Rogue."

"What, so you have a crush on her or something? That still isn't important. And I thought you had a crush on Jean, not Rogue. Or do you have a thing for all redheads?"

"No!" Freddy shouted, cheeks coloring. "I never liked Rogue that way. An' I don't like Martha that way either! My point is, she's sorta like Rogue in the sense that she sticks out in the crowd. Without the help of mutant powers or anythin'. Rogue did that, still does that. And Martha's weird too. She likes scary stuff. Gave me an entire lecture on werewolves once. Damn near talked my ear off."

"And your point is?" Todd asked, still confused and beginning to grow impatient.

"She knows alot about mysterious stuff. Like witches and vampires and ghosts. That's my point. 'Cause we've got a ghost in our attic, don't we? And if we don't go ask the X-Men for help, she's the next best thing!"

Realization dawned on Todd's face, and something like a glimmer of hope came into his eyes.

"Yea! Thas' a great idea, Freddy! Where can we find this girl?"

"In school, most likely, considering it's not even nine o' clock." Lance grumbled, but he felt excited. Here was a possible solution: someone who could educate them on what they were dealing with, and how to fight it.

"Fred, can you walk over to the school and go find this Martha chick?" Lance asked.

"Sure, no problem." The Blob said, heaving himself up from his seat. "I'll be back in no time."

tbc.