Chapter Summary: Andrew is a reluctant "guest" of The Phantom. Each man is taught by the other and a grudging respect begins to grow between them. Tomas returns with good – but disturbing – news.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Andrew was bent over, his hands resting on his knees, trying to catch his breath, feeling the blood pound at his temples. His eyes were closed and he was thinking how very much he wanted to throttle that damn bastard leaning against the wall, smirking at him. It has been four full days since he had barged through the front door of the ruined monastery, five days since he had seen his friend shot and the woman he loved had disappeared into an encroaching night. It has been four full days of relearning the sword of his youth when Andrew would have much preferred a gun. Four full days of showing that arrogant scoundrel that a boy raised on a working farm knew perfectly well how to throw a lasso. Four full days of being beaten and thrashed at every lesson by a man who gave no quarter and expected none in return. Four full days in which thoughts and fears for Annalise struggled for supremacy in his mind with thoughts of how he would love to - very slowly - kill the man known as The Phantom.

"I think that is enough for today," Erik said as he moved away from the wall, hand on his cane.

"Enough," Andrew said softly. "Enough?" He stilled his emotions as he raised his head, slowly straightening his back.

Erik raised an eyebrow at him.

Andrew took note of the man's facial expression as he approached him. "You think that is enough?" Andrew wondered, his tone measured, without emotion. "I have been here four days. Four days. I have submitted to your every insipid request. I have endured every punishment for every lesson you thought I failed. All the while I have been wasting precious time and God only knows what Annalise has had to endure. And you think it is enough?" Andrew was within steps of Erik. "I shall tell you when it is enough!"

Without warning, Andrew's hand grabbed the cane, ripping it from Erik's grasp. He slammed Erik against the wall, pinning the cane across his throat. The two men stared into each other's eyes, burning anger and mocking amusement. Andrew breathed hard through his nose, coherent thought a thing he was unable to find. There was no struggle by the man beneath his hands and Andrew found his anger and fear and frustration melting away. He dropped the cane, turning his back to Erik.

"Now it is enough," Andrew said as he walked away and into the monastery, ignoring the soft laughter coming from Erik and collapsing on a chair in the entry hall, head in his hands, fingers in his hair.

"Do you think I do this for my amusement?" The question was asked. "Or your pain?"

"I do not know and I do not care," Andrew's muffled answer came.

"Then why do you not leave? I have had some experience in holding human beings against their will and I do not believe you fall into that category."

Andrew raised his head. "And where would I go? You have made it abundantly clear that I have no idea what I am doing. So here I wait for your ... Tomas ... to return with some little scrap of something that will allow us to swoop in like a conquering horde and save the woman I love. All the while, I feel like I am eating myself alive. I cannot sleep. I cannot eat. I cannot feel. I cannot do anything but hope that my friend is alive. And when I find I can think it is of Annalise and those thoughts frighten me beyond whatever little reason I have left. So, again, I ask - where would I go?"

"How old are you?" Erik wondered.

"What?"

"It is a simple question. Why do you answer it with another?"

"I became twenty-one this February." Andrew looked puzzled. "Why?"

"Always the questions from the young," Erik said softly as he stayed in the shadows that played along one wall. "Because it has occurred to me that history or Fate or God or whatever it is that others consider in control of our lives has a deliciously cruel sense of humor."

"You are insane."

"So you have said. Use that brain you possess and try to find another adjective." Erik sighed. "It will not have occurred to you for you did not grow up in this country and did not hear the stories about the Opera Ghost meant to frighten a child but I am sure it is not escaped the thoughts of Annalise's parents." Erik moved from the shadows and moved towards where Andrew was seated. "Annalise is the same age as her mother and you but a year younger than the Vicomte when these same things happened to them." Erik took the seat next to Andrew. "When I did these same things to them. Perhaps your God is not as merciful as you are led to believe and this is His way of punishing me for my arrogance in thinking that I could ever be a part of my Angel's life - no matter how far from that life I may have been."

Andrew shook his head in disbelief. "You are arrogant if you think this is some kind of punishment upon you. You had nothing to do with this."

"Ah! He does possess a brain." Erik leaned back into his chair, closing his eyes, sighing. "But your words do little to lessen the dismal thoughts of an old man who has had many years upon which to ponder his past mistakes."

"Oh wonderful," Andrew replied. "You work me to the quick so that I do not have the time or energy to dwell upon my thoughts but you still wallow in yours. Where is the mercy in that?"

Erik opened his eyes to look at the young man seated next to him. "And an admirable brain it is, too."

"Will you, please, get over the fact that I am not an imbecile?"

"There are walls around my life that I have been building since the first moment I drew breath. I do not easily let anyone in so you must understand why I take the tone I do with you."

Now it was Andrew's turn to look at Erik with a raised eyebrow. "You let Annalise in."

"Yes, I did. Long ago, I also let her mother in and all they have ever brought to me is heartache." There was a dangerous glow at the back of Erik's eyes. "Do not think to breach those walls as easily."

"I shall come and go through those walls, as I please," Andrew told him, a smirk on his face, "for I think that there is already a breach in them that you cannot fix." He grew more solemn. "She has done it to me, as well. I did not think to come to France to fall in love. I only wanted to spend a summer with a friend, enjoying a new country, bringing my sister out of her shell. I never meant to fall in love but Annalise has a way of making you love her without even realizing that it has happened."

"It would seem to be a familial trait."

"You should be thankful you can feel your heart ache for it means you are alive," Andrew told him softly as he buried his head in his hands again. "It is the only thing at the moment that lets me know I am."

"Out of the mouths of babes," Erik muttered under his breath.

They sat in silence for what seemed like an interminable period of time, each lost in thoughts of a dark-haired woman who had taken their hearts, forever changing their lives. Both of them looked up at the sound of the front door opening, Tomas walking through. Erik and Andrew rose to their feet simultaneously, Erik placing a hand on Andrew's chest to prevent him from accosting an obviously tired Tomas.

"Give the man a moment," Erik warned Andrew.

"Merci, monsieur," Tomas said as he walked across the foyer, and into the room Erik used as his study. Tomas sat down on a worn loveseat, closing his eyes, catching his breath. Erik and Andrew followed him, Erik closing the door behind them, Andrew, fists balled at his sides, trying to remember that patience was, indeed, a virtue. Erik noticed the fists, the rapidly raising chest and reached out for Andrew, getting his attention. He motioned the young man towards the window seat. Andrew nodded and reluctantly went to perch on its edge.

"Is there anything you need, my friend," Erik asked.

Tomas shook his head, keeping his eyes closed for another moment before opening them. "I know where Mademoiselle is being kept," he said simply.

Andrew rose to his feet.

"Sit down!" Erik ordered before turning his attention back to Tomas. "So she is alive?"

Tomas nodded his head.

"Thank God," Andrew breathed.

"What have you learned," Erik wanted to know.

"I did not know much and did not know where to even begin so I began to ask in the camps that are hidden in the woods," Tomas started. "I knew I would be able to learn something from the men and women there before I started towards Paris. There was a mention of a man who was found murdered along the road that leads into Paris."

"Who was this man?" Andrew asked softly, hoping almost against hope that his worst thought would not be proven true.

"A man of my acquaintance, Henri Laurent, a scoundrel and a pickpocket of little note but honest as such men ever are."

Erik watched as Andrew heaved a sigh of relief and shared that same relief; at least, it was not Christine's son found dead alongside the road and that meant there was still a chance the boy lived. "What more of this Laurent?"

"I went to Paris to inquire in the taverns and inns where the people of my youth ... ," Tomas paused. "I nearly forgot in my haste to bring news. The young man, Monsieur de Chagny, he lives and the papers say he is expected to make a full recovery."

"Christine," Erik breathed and noticed that Andrew sagged against the window casement. "Thank you for that Tomas; you have lifted a great weight from us both; but what of Laurent?"

Tomas nodded his head. "It is said that there was a young man of a class not normally found in such places seeking out information from people who worked at the opera house the same time you were there." He watched as a dark look crossed Erik's face. "He found his answers as he was willing to pay good money for them. He also hired Laurent as a coach driver for several hundred francs. Those that heard said Laurent was bragging about how easy it was to earn such a sum just for driving a coach into the country. It was not easy to get such knowledge as the police were questioning everyone; most of my old friends were going to ground, waiting till the whole thing passed over."

"You have done remarkably well considering the circumstances you were working under," Erik assured him. "Now, where is Mademoiselle?"

"I came heading back this way, knowing where Laurent was found dead. I found a group of gypsies," Tomas waited for a reaction from Erik, knowing his past, and only saw Erik close his eyes, a hard look passing his face. "There were old comrades I knew from awhile back with the gypsies. They told me of a place they thought was haunted. It was an old house, long abandoned but now they said the ghost lights danced in the windows. They spit and crossed themselves when I asked where this place was but they told me. It was not easy to find but I know where it is and I can take you there."

"And you saw her?" Andrew asked. "You saw Annalise?"

Tomas looked uncomfortable.

"What is it?" Erik wanted to know. "You can say anything to me, Tomas."

Tomas kept his eyes downcast, hands playing nervously with each other. "I found the place two nights ago; it was the night it rained so badly. I could see the lights in the house and I thought about going to see what I could do when the back door opened. There was a man and he carried a young girl over his shoulders. I remembered what you said she looked like and knew it had to be her. She did not look well and ..."

"Anything, Tomas," Erik reminded him, gently.

"And he tied her to a tree and left her in the rain."

Andrew rose to his feet. "I'll kill him!"

"If you take another step," Erik told him, "you will not live long enough to kill anyone. Do I make myself clear?"

"I could not do anything!" Tomas insisted. "He stood in the doorway and just watched and waited. I did not dare try anything for he had a look of madness about him and I knew the only thing that would be of any help would be to bring you the news of what I had learned."

Erik crossed the room to sit by his friend. "You did the right thing, Tomas. It was far better to come back to let us know where Mademoiselle is then to have risked your life, leaving us with nothing."

"Thank you, Tomas," Andrew added.

Tomas nodded his head sadly. "I wished I could have done more. I only wished I could have done more."

"It will be alright," Erik insisted.

"I did go back to my friends at the gypsy camp. They agreed to watch the house and follow if he leaves and takes Mademoiselle with him and to let us know."

Erik laid a hand on Tomas' arm. "Very well done, my friend. Now, what can you tell us about the layout of this place and how best to approach it." He stood. "You will talk and I will draw." He looked at Andrew. "And you will listen." Erik walked across the room, pulling out a piece of paper and a charcoal pencil.

The next thirty minutes were spent listening to the sound of the pencil as it scratched across the paper to the words that Tomas spoke. Erik listened carefully, diagramming the layout of the house, the woods, the approach. He worked in deep concentration, unaware of the two men standing over his shoulder, only hearing the spoken words, the corrections to what he had drawn. When he finally finished, there was a very detailed sketch resting on the desk in front of him.

"Now what?" Andrew wanted to know.

Erik pointed at the front and back of the house. "We will need to come in from both points of entry if we are to have any hope of gaining access to the second floor." He turned to look over his shoulder. "Tomas are you sure that Mademoiselle is on the second floor?"

Tomas pointed at a box representing a window. "That is where the lights always are and it is where I saw the shadows moving."

"Then that is where she must be," Erik agreed.

"We cannot approach from the main entry here," Andrew pointed at the access road, "for there is no cover up to the front door. We can begin at the intersection with the main road but we will have to work our way up through the wooded areas, one of us towards the front and one towards the back."

"Once again you prove you are not an imbecile," Erik said with a small smile. "It is a good thought." His expression hardened. "Any man who would shoot two men, killing one and leave a young girl bound and in the rain is to be considered dangerous. We do not want to give him any inkling that we are coming, thusly, giving him a chance to do something to Annalise before we can reach her." He turned to look at Andrew. "Do you have any knowledge of how to pick a lock?"

Andrew shook his head, his lips a taut line.

"Very well, you shall have to take Tomas with you." Erik looked at Tomas. "Can you break the lock on the front door, if necessary, without too much noise?"

"I have done such before; it would not be hard to do so again."

Erik tapped the pencil against the paper. "Andrew is correct, silence is of the utmost import. We must approach the house and gain entry as quietly as possible. Any noise out of the ordinary may give us away and that could prove deadly for Annalise."

"But we do not know what the inside of the house looks like!" Andrew reminded the other two.

"If it is like other country homes, there will be a narrow stairway here," Erik pointed just inside the front of the house, near to the door. "It will go straight up with a slight curve before it reaches the second floor. That is where you will go but you must be on your guard. Old houses creak and groan and that is our worst enemy for it shall let him know that he is no longer alone. Once you are inside you must move and move quickly."

"What of you?" Tomas asked.

"I shall come through the back. No matter how small the country house there is always a servant's staircase." Erik chuckled. "How appropriate." He grew serious. "Having two flanks covered should ensure that he is occupied with only one and it matters little which. Either way, one of us will get to Annalise and get her out of that god-forsaken place."

"God?" Andrew wondered softly.

Erik chose to ignore him. "Tomas, do you think you can find a way to get us a very fast, very light chaise and a pair of horses strong and spirited enough to run full out for as long as possible? And can you do it within the next day?"

"A few hours rest and I shall get what you request."

"Good. Now how far is this place from where we are now?"

"Four or five hours at a good gallop."

"Then we shall start tomorrow afternoon." Erik felt, rather than saw, the change of body position in Andrew. He turned to look at the young man. "I know that it is difficult for you to wait for what seems like further wasted hours but if we do not do this properly, any one of us may die in the trying. I think you know if that should happen, Annalise may not stand a chance of surviving, either."

"I would rather I die than she does," Andrew told him. "I will wait."

"Then it is decided," Erik said with a quiet force that seemed to fill the whole room. "We go tomorrow afternoon."

"Stay strong until then, my angels," he thought. "Stay strong."