Erik woke the next morning with a pounding headache and found his body covered in layer of sweat. He and Sara had talked into the small hours of the morning before falling asleep beside each other. Every time he moved it was like someone was trying to get to his brain with an ice pick.
He tried to swallow, but his throat was dry and burning. He pulled the blankets around him tighter, desperately seeking some warmth from them. He had never felt this way before in his life. He had gotten colds and the random flu bug, but he had never felt so run down in his life.
His body became racked with a coughing fit that made Sara sit upright in bed. At first she was confused. She and Erik often fell asleep in the same bed after talking for hours, but it wasn't often that she would wake up with him still there. The whole bed was shaking from the force of his coughing and she could feel the heat radiating off his body.
"Erik?" She asked softly.
She closed her palm over his forehead and couldn't believe that someone could get that hot. He groaned and moved his head away from her hand, as if even the light touch hurt him. Sara moved closer and could smell the rank odour of clothes that had been wet and left to dry. She reached beneath the blankets and touched his clothing. They were rough to touch and stiff.
"Erik, didn't you change out of your wet clothes last night?" She asked.
Erik shivered and shook his head. "No, I didn't think of it."
Sara muttered a curse and jumped out of bed. She stumbled to her Armoire and quickly pulled on some clothing. She rushed out of the room only to reappear minutes later with more blankets. She helped him to sit up and move his body to the edge of the bed. She quickly stripped him of the mildew smelling clothing and helped him to lie back down. She tucked the blankets around him tightly and pushed a few strands of his sweat soaked hair off of his face.
"I'm going to get help Erik. Stay here."
He was far too weak and tired to protest. Sara pulled a cloak from her armoire and swept out of the room, locking the door behind her. She took the stairs as fast as she could, calling for their butler to find out if the carriage had been ordered like she requested as she was collecting the extra blankets.
"Yes ma'am it should be out front momentarily. Do you need help getting into it?" He asked.
Sara fastened the clip of the cloak and shook her head. "That's quite alright. My husband is ill, do not let any of the girls enter my bed chamber to clean, he is resting in there. Tell them that if I find out they went in against my orders they will be dismissed immediately." She said, rushing out the front door with out a response.
She climbed into the carriage and quickly told the driver where to go. They pulled up to a modest size house and Sara pounded on the door frantically. "May I help you?" A man's voice asked.
"I need to see Mme. Giry; it's a matter of life and death!" Sara exclaimed.
Erik tossed and turned under the blankets. He knew the sheets against his body must be soaked in sweat, but he dared not to take them off. He needed every bit of warmth that they could provide his cold body. The chill seemed to go straight to his very soul.
His eyelids were heavy with exhaustion and it wasn't long before he was sleeping. Images floated in front of his eyes, most of them were of Sara and the progression of her age. The occasional image of Christine flashed among them, but almost all were of Sara.
In his mind he could hear music playing and recognized it as the Dance of the Country Shepherdess, the ballet from Il Muto. He remembered chasing Joseph Buquet through the rafters of the stage. It was a drawn out pursuit over the shaky boards. He had managed to make the man lose his footing and wrapped the noose tightly around his neck.
"How dare you lay your hands on her!" He spat as he pulled the rope tighter and tighter, cutting off the man's airway.
Buquet's fingers had dug at his hand trying to get the rope to loosen. "Who?" He had gasped out.
"Sara. Your life is mine as consequence for hurting her!" Erik had cried, rolling Buquet's body off of the plank they were on.
Even over the music he had heard the satisfying sound of the crack as Buquet's neck snapped. Looking down at the dead man's face it morphed to the man who had held him captive as a child and put him on display for the world to mock. As soon as that face appeared, it disappeared and changed into Raoul D'Changy's face.
He stared at the face of Raoul and watched it slowly turn more feminine. Sara's eyes came through first before the face changed completely over to Sara's. Her fingernails were digging into his skin as she tried to fight him off. His hands pulled the noose tighter and her eyes rolled towards the back of her head as her chest stopped moving.
Erik woke with a start and sat straight up. "No!"
Sara walked into the house with Mme. Giry and both women's heads turned upward at the sound of Erik's scream. Mme. Giry followed Sara as she took the steps two at a time. She fumbled with the key as she struggled to unlock the door, listening to Erik's hysterical screams.
Sara finally managed to get the door open and she ran to the bed. "Erik, it's alright, just lay back."
She felt Erik's hand touch her face as she struggled to get him to lie down. "Sara, you've turned into an angel. I'm so sorry for hurting you."
Mme. Giry locked the door and helped Sara to get Erik to lie down. She glanced at the right side of his face. The mask was not covering his scars and the skin seemed to be much brighter than she remembered. She lowered her hand to feel his forehead and could feel the heat rising from him without even touching him.
"Sara, I need you to get a basin of cold water and a cloth." Mme. Giry said to the young girl. "And have your cook boil some water to make tea and add three drops of Laudanum and 7 leaves of this to it."
Sara's hand closed around the small pouch that Mme. Giry handed her and walked swiftly from the room. Erik continued to toss and turn and muttered Sara's name several times. Sara returned, carefully balancing the basin of cold water and Mme. Giry stood to take it from her.
"How bad is he?" Sara asked, dipping the cloth into the cold water.
"His fever is very high; if we can't bring it down he could die." Mme. Giry told her. "The Laudanum will help him sleep and the herbs that I gave you will help fight off the infection that's in his body. Hopefully the combination will bring his temperature back down."
Several hours passed and Erik slept somewhat peacefully. Sara paced around the room anxiously while Mme. Giry continued to watch over her once childhood friend. He moaned in his sleep and Mme. Giry pressed the cold cloth to his forehead. His fever had come down somewhat but not as much as she had hoped it would.
Sara's pacing stopped automatically. Meg had told her once about a ballet dancer who had been bled when she fell ill. Meg had said the girl had been so weak that the loss of blood seemed only to help her sickness instead of fighting it. "Is there no other way?" Sara asked.
Mme. Giry shook her head. "None that I am skilful enough to do. We might be able to find a better way if you would let me bring a doctor in."
"No, if a doctor comes then it may get out that he's alive. The memory of the Opera Populaire accident is still too fresh in many people's minds." Sara said reluctantly
"Then fetch me the things that I have asked for." Mme. Giry demanded forcefully.
Tears slipped from Sara's eyes as she left the room. She knew where the servants had placed the things that Mme. Giry had asked for, so she did not bother to summon them. She balanced the basin on her right arm and carefully climbed the stairs. She entered the room and handed Mme. Giry the supplies and quickly left again. Although she wouldn't be able to see the procedure, she had a feeling that being in the room would be so much worse.
She pressed her back to the wall and slid down it until she was seated on the floor. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so helpless and alone. Her family's death hadn't caused her nearly as much pain as this had. She briefly wondered if Erik had felt this kind of helplessness when she had been so close to dying herself.
"Sleep Sara." She could hear Erik's voice in her head as her eyelids grew heavy. "There's nothing more you can do for me tonight."