Hi again! I've gotten some questions about the title of this phic... Darkness Purged to Light... to tell the truth, I just randomly thought it up the second before I posted the first chapter ;) But my rationale was that all of the dark parts of Erik's life and such are now being brought to light... but in a way that's terrible for him... so it's like the Darkness of his life is just being Purged out into the Light, which, as we all know, is "cold, unfeeling" yes? ;)

Oh, also, just because Raoul maintains that Erik killed Philippe doesn't mean it's true... I mean... If you think about it, it IS Raoul after all ;) Erik says he didn't, Raoul thinks he did...Who can you believe? Well...Whether he did or didn't, (which is open to interpretation of Leroux and analysis of Erik's words to the Persian in Chapter 26, The End of the Ghost, in the original novel). Here, the final decision will ultimately be up to what the evidence in the court says, won't it? The jury will decide.

Much fmeek! Enjoy!

Five Days After the Conversation

Robert Corbin waited for his client in the same prison meeting room they had met in the week before last. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his temples heavily. He had never really been fond of Mondays. He had been gaining hope when Christine Daaé didn't ever call to cancel her Friday afternoon appointment—until she just never showed up. They hadn't heard from her at all until just earlier that morning when she called, expressing her deepest apologies. There was something in her voice that had made it sound as if she had been crying.

Clara Varlese looked up at Corbin from the new documents she was reading as she sat on his left side at the table. "That bad, eh?"

"She backed out," he said with no real purpose. "We only have one other person. That's nothing."

Varlese shrugged and took off her reading glasses. She was well aware of the situation. "What did you expect? One is certainly one more than I ever thought we'd get."

"This is going to look bad on the records. I hate impossible cases."

Varlese had no soft spot for whiners. "Then why did you take this one?"

"I scanned the report. Didn't read it." They both knew that had nothing to do with it.

"Well, look on the bright side!" she said with mock cheerfulness. "You have a witness. And a good one too. One that knows all about Erik's past...Which is more than any of the others know...He's probably the best choice we could have gotten."

"Yeah, but it would have been good to have Daaé..." It was possible that he looked at Miss Daaé's lack of commitment as a personal failure on his part. It could have been that she hadn't thought much of them if she was disappointed with his lack of professionalism...Being late to that meeting...But it had truly seemed that she'd wanted to help Erik...Erik...Who was late again. Not that an inmate has any control over this sort of situation. "Damnit, where is he?"

Just then, the door opened and Erik was brought in precisely as he had been the time before.

Varlese leaned over to Corbin and spoke under her breath. "Well...Speaking of the devil..."

Corbin was not amused and took a deep breath. He wasn't in the mood for any crap today. He addressed Erik directly. "Please sit down."

Erik looked incredulously at Corbin and didn't sit...until the guards had left the room completely and locked the door behind. Only then did he move over to the table, slip off his handcuffs, toss them unceremoniously to the middle of the plastic tabletop, pull out the chair, and sit.

Corbin was impatient. "I'm going to be straightforward with you, Erik. We have one witness: Mr. Kahn. Miss Daaé was in our palm as for testifying in your favor, but her fiancé seems to have had a change of heart for her. Therefore, we have one."

Erik simply looked at him for a moment and took in his words before answering indolently: "Good for you."

It was starting already. "Its hardly good," Corbin said bluntly. "However, one is better than none, I guess. You are familiar with Nadir Kahn, correct?"

Was he familiar with Nadir? Erik couldn't help wondering what sort of idiotic question that was supposed to be. "You know," he began, "It would probably suit your purposes to glean at least a little common understanding or knowledge from the blatantly obvious."

Corbin rolled his eyes and moved on. "If you would refrain from sarcastic remarks, we would move through this faster. I still believe we can gain some important information from Miss Daaé."

"She actually seemed to be interested in helping us," Varlese added. "But was unwilling to go through with it."

Erik just looked at them. He didn't say anything. He didn't really have anything to say.

Corbin sighed. "Are you willing to talk today, Erik?"

"I'm speaking, aren't I?" Not that he was willing. But he was doing it

Now Corbin was getting angry. Mondays were just not his favorite days. He looked over to Varlese who lifted an eyebrow in response before she turned to Erik.

Why did she have to be the patient one today? "Honestly, Erik, if you don't give a damn, it would make our jobs a lot easier if you would just plea-bargain with the state, plead guilty, and we can hope they don't gas you. But since you refuse to do that, you're going to have to be a little more cooperative. We're here working for you. Frankly, you're lucky Mr. Corbin was even willing to take your case. I'm sure you're well aware that it was rejected by two other attorneys before he agreed."

Erik answered just as sedately as before. "I am aware."

"Would you reconsider pleading guilty?" Corbin wished he just would do it.

Erik's answer was treacherously rigid. "No. I am not changing my answer."

God! "Alright then..." Corbin was really trying very hard to calm himself.

Erik chuckled at his lawyer's difficulty maintaining self-restraint. "Perhaps you had ought to go outside for a minute and have a cigarette."

He was starting to get to Varlese as well. She decided just to press on. "You are aware that the special circumstances charge means the D.A. is pressing for the death penalty, yes?"

"Yes," he said in the very same calm tone. "And?"

Varlese was once again more than frustrated and Corbin could not stand this! He wasn't going to stand it. He didn't have to stand it. It wasn't part of the job description.

As for Erik, he was having fun.

Corbin clenched his fists under the table. "Do you find something amusing, Erik?"

Behind the mask, Erik's golden eyes widened a little. He was most obviously amused. "No. Why do you ask?"

Varlese put a hand on Corbin's arm, warning him to stay calm and drop it.

He took a moment before speaking, and then just let it go and moved on. "No reason. We will need your statements in writing, of course, along with enough evidence to prove your claimed innocence..." Inside, he was counting to ten repeatedly.

Erik laughed that haunting laugh that neither attorney wanted to admit sent shivers down their spines. He leaned back in the chair and stretched his legs out under the table. "Good luck with that!" He meantthe evidence, of course, not the statements in writing.

Corbin's headache was not in a mood to play nice. "Do you honestly believe we will win this case?"

"I do very few things honestly," Erik answered offhandedly. "Believing in implausible outcomes is certainly not one of them. But..." He straightened where he sat and leaned forward, his elbows laying to rest on the tabletop. "Nothing is impossible. The two of you seem at least moderately competent. I don't mind letting you have a go at it."

Corbin sighed. "So you have no idea of any evidence in the very slightest that could possibly help your case?"

Erik tapped a finger to the dark surface of the side of his mask as he thought for a moment. "That depends entirely on your approach. What's your angle? How do you plan to go about it? Certainly you don't plan to exempt me through demonstrating my charming moral character."

"Certainly not." Corbin wasn't even trying to be nice. "We will be forced to look at the raw facts, Erik. What exactly happened in that period of time? How were the victims, if you will, killed? Things of that sort."

Corbin obviously believed Erik was guilty. Erik could tell. He sat back again and was becoming bored with these two. "Well I think it would certainly help matters if you tried to actually enjoy your job—"

"Erik! If you please!" Varlese cut him off.

He turned to look at her and she was momentarily startled by the intensity of his vicious glare. His relaxed mood instantaneously inverted itself into angered annoyance. "If you'll excuse me, I haven't killed a man in many years."

Corbin definitely didn't believe that. "Of course you haven't." It was a cross between sarcasm and pacification. "And you haven't answered my question."

Erik sighed in irritation. "I've already told you. Joseph Bouquet committed suicide."

"And the other...s...?"

"Chagny drowned himself through his own incompetence, and Piangi just went..." He drew a finger across his neck in the universal signification of death and made a sound in his throat. "...Right there on the stage. Simply seeing me was enough to do it. Too many cheeseburgers and rich sweets will do that to a man." He put his hand to his heart and shook his head with disappointment. "A pity, too...He had a good voice."

Varlese wasn't buying it. "What about the rope around his neck?"

Erik waved his hand absently. "For effect...Call it a trademark...A calling card...Whatever..."

Corbin's question was almost sarcastic. "Then you put your rope around his neck as a calling card even though you didn't commit the crime?"

"Of course." It seemed perfectly logical to Erik. Though it was also just as perfectly possible that he was making up the whole story start to finish. "I had a reputation to keep, you know. It's not as if I wasn't going to knock him out anyway. And since he was so generous to die on his own like that, and the Ghost would get blamed for it as it was, might as well make it official. Use it to keep my edge."

Corbin's statement was directed more towards Varlese than to Erik. "The jury will never believe it."

She sighed and shook her head, unsure...She would have to check out how much the autopsy reports had revealed. She looked to Erik, frustrated with these circumstances. "It didn't occur to you that, if you were caught, it would have cinched you for murder?"

He answered almost indifferently. "I wasn't planning on getting caught. I was planning on getting married."

Corbin wasn't getting it. "The thought truly never occurred to you that you might be caught?"

Erik turned his whole head, slowly, and just looked him. He let his eyes burn into the man's skull for a long, quiet moment before speaking. "The only reason I was caught, Mr. Corbin, was because I allowed it to happen."

Corbin shook off Erik's painful stare, his eyes widening in shock. "Why?"

"You ask me why? Why? Why, because I was fool enough to hope that Fate held some small ounce of mercy for me and would let the officers' bullets strike me dead. But even that..." He lay a long, thin hand across his stomach and clasped lightly around his side, one of the places where he had been shot more lethally and where the wound from the bullet had still not quite yet healed. "Even that was not enough. Even during the span of time it took to encompass hell's blackest despair, it was all only a mockery...A farce..." The words congealed like venom as they seeped invisibly through the solid wall of the mask. "And though I had thought I had drawn my last breath, I awoke again." He let his arm slide back limply to the arm of the chair. "Surely destiny must enjoy the games she plays with my endless torment."

Corbin simply listened to him in silence. His outward expression had not changed, but inwardly there had aroused a morsel of pity. "You do not care what happens to you, then?"

"No." Did Erik mean 'No, he did not care.'? Or 'No, that's not true.'?

Corbin asked him. Erik didn't answer.

After a moment, Corbin began again, speaking with much less anger than before, "They are still inspecting the Opera House for any evidence. If we find any evidence that is in your favor...Along with Mr. Kahn's testimony...We just might have a chance..." He didn't really believe what he said...But he felt sorry for Erik somehow.

Erik did not say or do anything...Once again, he just did not have anything to do or say.

Varlese wasn't quite as impressed by the whole miserable display and had resumed reading through some reports. She glanced up from the papers. "It would also help matters if you would do your best to exhibit good behavior...This says that all four of your cellmates so far have refused to stay with you. Why? What's been going on?"

It was true. All had gone to extreme measures to be exempted from staying in the same cell as Erik and he had been staying quite alone for the past couple weeks. He preferred it that way.

He shrugged disinterestedly. "They were scared, I guess...You'd think to expect more from hardened criminals."

"Why?" Corbin could make a few guesses, but he wanted specifics.

Erik gestured vaguely to his mask. "They don't allow me to wear a mask inside...I don't know why they let me for this. I suppose they took pity on you." Of course, that wasn't the only reason all those men had been frightened away...But his lawyers didn't need to know that.

Varlese knew about his face, of course. She hadn't ever actually seen it though...Something had happened to the pictures, and the law office was still in the process of trying to figure out just where they could have gone. But either way...She didn't think it could possibly be that bad.

Corbin looked at the mask for a moment, then cleared his throat and looked back down at his papers. "Yes, well...If that is brought up in court, you can calmly and politely explain it. That issue shouldn't be a problem."

Right. Erik responded in a peculiarly bitter tone: "That's what you think."

Corbin looked back up at him. "What exactly do you mean by that, Erik?"

Erik's answering glare was acidic. "That issue is always a problem."

"Not in a court case," Corbin answered, edgily defensive. "They can only ask you to remove your mask. You can refuse if you feel it necessary."

Erik's hand clenched into a dangerous fist on the tabletop. "If I feel it necessary..." he repeated in black words. "Oh, I think it would be amusing, don't you? Perhaps they would all just die then and there."

Corbin narrowed his eyes a little. "Calm down. I'm not trying to insult you or be sarcastic."

Erik's now dark mood was not going to change again. He reached across the table and pulled the handcuffs back towards where he sat. "Have you anything more to say today?"

Corbin glanced at Varlese. "I think we're done."

She searched through the papers quickly as she had thought there was something else, but when she couldn't find it right away, she looked up at Erik and then back over to Corbin and nodded.

Erik stood, pushing the chair back as he did and it made a harsh grating sound against the floor. He then resumed the handcuffs and they snapped around his wrists with antagonistic metallic clicks.

Corbin gathered the rest of the papers into his briefcase and went over to knock on the door in order to let the guards know that they were finished. When the officers entered to take the prisoner back, Erik went out ahead of them a bit too quickly for any of them to grasp, and the guards had to rush to catch up with him.

Once the heavy door fell shut of its own weight, Corbin shook his head a little. "Mental note to keep his face out of this..."

Varlese stood and pushed in her chair. "Oh yeah. This just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"

"Everyday." He sounded more annoyed than anything. "I've never allowed a client to get to me like he does."

She tried not to sound patronizing for once. "I don't think it has anything to do with you allowing him..."

"Maybe not." He sighed. "Let's get out of here."

"Please." She gathered her things and headed out, holding the door for him after her.

He followed, giving her a half-amused look. "You're such a gentleman, Clara."

"Thank you, Robert."