Chapter Eight: The Waking Nightmare


"Taken Nadir?" Christine echoed quietly. "Why… why would they take Nadir?"

"To get to me," Erik spat, anger apparent in every motion he made. He nodded towards the gondola and Darius shuffled towards it, the poor man barely standing. He'd not let his master go without a fight. "They'd have no reason to take Nadir other than to get to me."

She heard the anguish in her husband's voice and took his hand. "We'll get him back."

Erik shook his head. "We will do nothing. I will go after him. I will not put you in danger. Please understand me on this, Christine."

"No! I will not leave you to your waking nightmares!"

Erik froze in his place, everything but those last two words forgotten. "'Forget this waking nightmare…'" he murmured.

His wife looked up at him, eyes questioning. "What?"

The Phantom shook his head, banishing the old words. She was not Raoul's. She was his. Forever. Wherever she went, he was there and she followed him just the same. "It's nothing," he managed. "Come."


Nadir's jade eyes fluttered open and he moaned. His head hurt. His back hurt. Everything hurt. "I'm getting far too old for this," he grumbled as he forced himself into a sitting position.

"Lay back, monsieur!"

He jumped at the sound of a small voice and his eyes met those of a young Gypsy girl. She was tiny, far too small for her age, by the looks of her. Thin as if she hardly ate and her eyes seemed too large for her face. They were filled with concern. For who? Him?

"Did you hear me, monsieur? You speak French, no?"

"I do," Nadir managed as he put his face into his hands. "Where am I?'

"In the fair. We're Gypsies."

The Persian tensed. Christine had explained to him what had happened the night of the fair and the woman that had been stalking them since. "The old lady. Where is she?"

"What old lady? There are many."

"The one that has been to the opera house."

"Ah!" the girl. "Dunicha!"

Nadir shrugged. "Is she the one?"

"Yes! Oh she's very mean! She's been after the poor couple… They seemed so happy and she gives him nightmares. She works magic, you know."

"I doubt that. Erik has shown me enough tricks to know they are not magic."

The girl giggled at this. "Dunicha works magic. She hates Erik. I don't know why. I feel sorry for him. Do you know, monsieur, why she hates him?"

"I do not."

Her small shoulders slumped at this. "Oh… well… I suppose we'll find out soon enough, right?"

"Why's that?"

"He'll come for you."

Nadir chuckled. "Erik is no fool."

"But he is your friend! Of course he will come." With that the child left, skipping from the tent and leaving the bound Persian to his own thoughts and worries.


"You expect to go alone?"

Erik shot Raoul a sharp look before moving quickly to the other side of his study, intent on looking for something. He and Christine had sat Darius down with a cup of his Russian tea just as Meg and Raoul had poked their heads in. Unannounced, per the usual. It was grating on the Phantom's last nerve.

"Surely not!" Meg argued, looking to her best friend. "We should go with you."

"Why? To get in the way?" Erik bit out, grabbed what he needed and moved away. "Perhaps… perhaps you can make yourselves useful."

Meg smiled broadly. "How?"

"Stay with Darius. And don't touch anything."

"I am not staying," Darius said suddenly in halted French. "I will go."

"No," Erik replied sharply, rubbing his left temple in agitation. "Christine and I will go alone. It would be much easier to go by myself, but as Christine was so adamant, I allowed that. I shall not allow more."

Darius stood abruptly, with all of his usual quiet, submissive demeanor lost in his frustration over wanting to help his master and not being able to put those words into French. Finally he sighed and started off in Persian.

Everyone watched as Erik listened, nodding every once and a while, frowning, and then finally relaxing. "Very well then."

"Perhaps we could be on the outskirts, in case you needed help," Raoul offered.

Erik growled something in a language none of them knew. "Fine! But stay out of the way. I warn you, de Chagny, if you end up in my way, so help me…" He left it for the younger man's mind to wander on.


"Wake up, foreigner."

Nadir felt a cold, bony hand shaking him, though it was not Erik's. It was too small to be Erik's. Antoinette's were not that cold. Whose? He forced his lazy eyes to open slowly. An old woman stooped over him, her withering lips pulled into a disgusting smile, showing off her rotting teeth in all of their repulsiveness. "Dunicha."

"Yes yes!" she agreed with his statement.

"What do you want from us?" Nadir demanded, his heading aching terribly. He hated to think what they'd done to poor Darius.

"I want Erik."

"Obviously."

"Don't be cheeky," she hissed, but the smile returned. "No, you shan't be… Be silent and listen, foreigner. Shh… Do you hear it?"

"I hear nothing, old hag."

"You don't listen then! Quiet! Silence. A little closer. What haunts your dreams? What makes you smile as you dream? What is it you dream of, foreigner?"

Nadir strained his ears, listening. Finally, at the very edges of his senses, he could hear it. A child's laughter. His jade green eyes widened as the flap of the tent opened and a little boy ran in. "Father! Come look! The magician is here! Erik is here! On the outskirts! Have you seen him, Father?" demanded a fully healthy Reza with a bright smile. "Father? Why are you staring?"

The Persian man began to tremble uncontrollably as he stood, reaching out for the boy to come closer. "What sort of trickery is this?" he murmured as the boy obeyed.

"No trickery, Father!" Reza said with a bright smile, but it soon faded. "Why are you crying?"

Nadir shook his head, a smile placed on his lips. "Reza… my son. My little Reza…"

Reza grinned again. "Come see Erik with me, Father. He can make the music man work again."


Christine stayed close to her husband, moving nearly as silently as he did. They had parted ways with Raoul and Meg some moments ago, the others going to the opposite side of the camp. They'd wait, if needed. If not, they were to leave promptly when the signal was given. Darius was circling around the other side of the tent that Nadir was sure to be in.

"We'll go in quietly," Erik was saying in a low whisper. "And-"

"I don't think that will be necessary."

"Why on earth not?" her husband demanded.

"Because he's right there," Christine answered, pointing to where Nadir stood in the middle of an empty space.

Erik spotted him and stepped forward slowly, watching everything that moved about him. "Nadir?" he called softly. The Persian's eyes were glazed and he looked as one who walked in a dream. "Nadir?"

A smile crossed the elder man's face. "I don't know what magic it is…" he murmured, sounding delirious. "They brought him back, Erik? Do you see? Don't you see, my friend! They brought him back to me!"

Erik's mismatched eyes widened. "Who, Nadir?" he questioned gently.

"Reza, you blind fool!" Nadir shouted, looking irked. "How did they do it? You know their tricks."

Erik looked to where Nadir had motioned to when he said his dead son's name. Only an empty space met his eyes and a shudder ran through him. He turned to call for Christine, make sure she was all right, but was met by someone else entirely.

"Hello, little corpse," Javert greeted with a malicious grin.


A/N: And things really get interesting! Okay, now I'm diving into Kay's world, so for those of you who haven't read, I'm terribly sorry. I'll do what I can to tell what will not be explained in the writing itself, and if you don't understand something said, let me know, and I will do what I can to explain. About the only thing thus far that I can think of is Reza, for those that didn't read "Ghosts of the Past" and haven't read Kay's novel either. Reza is Nadir's son, obviously, that was dying in Persia, and he absolutely adored Erik and Erik had a soft spot for the little boy. When his end was approaching, Erik… hurried it along, putting it as gently as I can. Anyway, anything else, let me know.

A/N2: Brownie points to anyone who can guess who Dunchia is. You'll have to have read Kay.


LostSchizophrenic: The Gypsies took him! And they are NOT being very nice. Hehe…

Cmdr. Gabe E: I can never really guarantee my updating. I've had horrible senioritus (sp?) as of late and so I've been updating, but my moods switch very often, and sometime I'll probably go to writing another genre of fanfiction, but hopefully not soon.

Sue Raven: Thanks :) I like having all the characters in.

India Pyro: The gypsies took him:)

FreakinIdiot06: I like writing cliffhangers. What's really bad is when I write them and then just… forget to update. Lol! Don't plan to be doing that though

Golden Lyre: Why didn't I respond in the last chapter to you:feels really bad: and I had my comment all worked out too…. Anyway, better late then never. Yes, I have seen that movie. And the thought crossed my mind when you said that that Nadir is dark skinned and Muslim like the man (can't remember his name, but loved his character) from the Robin Hood movie. Hehe… maybe Nadir will kill her! Who knows?

Lynx Ryder: Welcome back! Been swamped lately? Okay, about the seizures! In the book:goes to look at book to get it exact: Erik's playing his music and Christine rips his mask off, like in the movie/musical. He actually grabs her by the neck, completely freaking out, and suddenly a seizure hits him and he falls to the ground, overcome by pain. Now, he was an opium addict in Persia to drown out all the bloodshed from his dreams, and he was worried that the opium pipe would ruin his voice so he switched to morphine when he left and was shooting up morphine even when Christine was down in the cellars with him, but he's stopped by the time my story takes place :) But, obviously, a little under thirty years of drug abuse off and on will ruin anyone's body, even our mighty Phantom of the Opera. At the end of the book he actually :bleeps out b/c it's a massive spoiler: email me if ya really want to know :) Hope that helped!