So, yeah... next chappie. I think I'm going insane... permanently... Right, chappie notes... it took me longer to get this chapter up than I expected, sorry 'bout that, folks, but I've been sick for like, forever. I have anemia right now, and for the past few weeks I've been sleeping ninety percent of my time sleeping, but I'm getting better now, so I've finally been awake long enough to finish chapter eleven. On a different note, yes, the beginning of the chapter is totally bizzare. Maybe you'll find it funny, maybe you won't, but either way, just know that I haven't lost the ability to write in a sane and understandable manner, I am simply choosing not to

Oh yes! The number of reviews that chapter 10 received left me positively ecstatic! You guys rock! For time's sake, I'm going to skip the review replies and head straight to the story. Don't worry, I'll reply to both chapters in chapter twelve.

Disclaimer: Yadda yadda... I'm lazy, so go look at another chapter if you feel the need to have a witty disclaimer.

Chapter 11: Confusion and Confession

Erik shook himself dry after crawling out of the blaze orange waters of the underground lake. His house (or lair, if you do so prefer) was arrayed before him in a brilliant show of golds, reds, grays, and eggshells tinged ever-so-slightly with blues.

"Have a nice swim?" asked Christine, coming out to greet him in a revealing blue-green bathrobe and matching fez.

"Excellent– wait! What are you doing here?" Erik asked suddenly, "You left with the fop..."

"I'm not here." she replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "I'm in Napoleon's left nostril."

For some reason, he found absolutely nothing wrong with Christine's mildly insane reply and made no further inquiries.

Christine barked, tossed him a towel on a very decorative coat hanger, and promptly turned into one of Carlotta's poodles.

Erik blinked. Perhaps if he looked pathetic enough, the poodle would turn back into Christine... It did nothing of the sort. Instead, it turned into Carmen, only she was wearing Christine's gala costume.

"Hiya, Erik!" she said. Clearly, she found nothing about randomly finding one's self in a cave, wearing in a large, poofy dress, to be particularly odd.

Just as well, he thought "Carmen, aren't you late for classes?" he asked for a reason unknown even to himself.

"Dammit!... Oh well. Classes are for rabbits!"

For some reason, Erik found this talk of rabbit classes to be extraordinarily romantic. He was leaning forward to kiss her, when Carmen suddenly screamed and pushed him backward into a rather large mushroom. It was only then that he realized that his face was unmasked.

Then he was alone, all alone on the stage of the Opera Populaire, in front of a full house... wearing absolutely nothing.

The laughter grew louder until Erik was certain that his head would explode. The heads of the audience swelled, threatening to engulf him in their rapidly expanding oral cavities.

"Please... stop... leave me alone..." he sobbed, trying to hide behind a curtain, which promptly realized it's lifelong dream of becoming a duck, quacked angrily at him, and waddled off.

"Get up, you fiend!" cried Raoul, who had somehow managed to become frighteningly muscular and was holding a sword, ready to him himself an Erik-kabob. He brought the sword downwards. Erik grimaced as he prepared himself for the bite of cold steel... and death, he realized with some amusement, at the hands of Raoul-on-steroids.

The sword never touched him, for Erik awoke a moment later, tangled in his bedsheets (hmm... were they winding?). He was still in Carmen's dorm.. It had been a dream– no, a nightmare... He never had dreams anymore.

"Erik! Are you okay? " Carmen asked worriedly. She looked as though she'd been trying to wake him for some time.

"Just fine... I had an extremely odd nightmare. I apologize for having woken you."

"Actually, I was just on my way to class when you started talking about poodles and seductive rabbits, and then you sort of started convulsing and whimpering, so I decided to wake you up."

"Heaven's, I've slept far too late."

"What?" Carmen asked sarcastically, "Are you going to be late for something?"

"I hate it when I sleep late like that..."

"You are so weird, Erik."

Erik nodded.

"You were right, my dear. The Opera Ghost is indeed, a very capable foe. I was a fool to underestimate him."

Stella nodded, "I warned you, Damien. Did I not tell you to be careful of him?"

"Isn't a week and a half in that accursed hospital punishment enough for my foolishness without having to endure your constant nagging, woman?" Damien snapped.

"Yes it is. I beg your pardon." Stella bowed her head and took a step backwards.

"That's what I thought." he sneered. "Now, I doubt we'll be able to get the Phantom while that idiot girl stands guard over him like some sort of deranged mother hen. We'll have to separate them somehow."

"But we've already tried to get him during the day when she's gone–..."

"No, you idiot! I mean we shall have to instigate a fight between them."

"Oh... But we know nothing about the girl. We have no idea what sort of thing makes her angry..."

"So we'll just have to keep trying until we can get him to hit a nerve."

Stella thought about it, her brow furrowed with contemplation, "Alright. What shall we try first?"

Erik dressed himself quickly and headed outside for a quick walk to clear his head. After living for so long in the bowels of the Opera Populaire, he was coming to realize once again how wonderful it was to have a bit of fresh air once in a while.

He did not walk for long, for he was still fearful of being spotted and pointed out by some student. That was the last thing he needed, another reason to kill... He longed for his cloak as the surprisingly cold wind bit at the unmasked side of his face. Autumn must come earlier in Cincinnati than it did in Paris...

Stella gave a furtive glance down the hallway, waiting until she was positively certain that the Phantom would not glance over his shoulder and spot her before she tiptoed into her old dorm room. Strange... she thought, he doesn't seem like the type that would leave without locking the door behind him. He must plan on coming back soon.

Quickly, she opened the closet and deposited the bag of... "beverages". She sincerely hoped that her ex-roommate had a thing about people who drank. After all, she'd read the novel. She knew that Erik was "a great lover of good wine" or something to that effect. Certainly he would miss the taste of fine liquor after nearly a month... and if it turned out to be far stronger than he could have possibly imagined, well, that was just too bad, wasn't it?

Fighting to keep her evil laughter inside her, Stella made her exit. Just as she turned the corner, she heard the door at the other end of the hallway creak open and shut. Perhaps it was him, heading back to his room... and heading straight for her trap.

Erik returned to the room, feeling refreshed, although none the more sure of himself... Well, there was only one certain way to deal with nightmares, and the confusing pictures they provided, and that was to ignore them altogether.

He started playing the keyboard, but his thoughts began to wander towards Carmen. How did he feel about her? And Christine? How could he be so fickle, so disloyal? He was playing a passionately confused melody, now. He hadn't been playing and piece in particular, just making things up as he went along. His hands, so used to the organ, meant to move to the next level of keys, only to be harshly reminded of the lack thereof when his fingers ran into the wall.

Well, so much for the keyboard, then. He did not want to run the risk of doing that again... So what to do, now? How to distract himself? Alas, the sugary allure of the sherbert... it called to him from Carmen's freezer, inviting him to have a taste, assuring him that he would not get carried away and eat the entire carton, thereby incurring the wrath of the Carmen.

A moment later, Erik was ripping of the cover that kept him from his prize and enveloping himself in the ice-cold, sugary goodness. Who cared if he ate it all? So long as he had his solace, he could endure anything his roommate tried to throw at him (physically or verbally).

The sugar high distracted Erik for a good long while, long enough to get through the first half of the day, even; however, when the electric current that the sugar sent soaring through his body began to fade, he found himself longing, once again, for something to dull his painfully sharp, overly contemplative intellect.

Carmen returned from classes that day and for what seemed like the thousandth time, found the room devoid of any life in the form of Erik (life in the form of random weird bugs, however, was becoming obnoxiously commonplace). "Shit..." she swore to herself. Was Erik simply incapable of staying put, or did he enjoy making her worry like this? Probably a combination of the two, she decided.

Choosing not to worry for the time being, Carmen seated herself on the futon... It smelled of Erik, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, particularly since he'd convinced her that it was absolutely bizzare that he had to commandeer her shampoo and thus smelled like a particularly girly combination of roses and "ocean mist"... although he'd had the audacity to point out that ocean mist was unlikely to smell very attractive as it was comprised mostly of salt and fish-infested water.

Carmen had the audacity to point out that most water was, in fact, fish infested.

Erik had provided the example of a puddle.

Carmen had advised him to look a bit closer at the next puddle he came across and try and tell her that there were no fish in it.

Erik had promptly called her insane, giving her perfect grounds to point out that insane people had no idea what manly shampoo smelled like.

And thus, Erik had accompanied her on his first ever trip to Wal-Mart...Oh, how she'd laughed when the greeter had tried to give him a smiley sticker.

On the way out, Erik had come across a puddle, stared at it for at least thirty seconds, and gleefully announced that it was completely fishless, but when he looked back down at it there had been a goldfish cracker floating in it. Carmen was holding an opened bag of cheesy, crackery, goodness... whistling innocently.

Stupid Erik... right all the time... but then again, it had been ocean mist, not puddle mist.

Her tangent was interrupted when the telephone rang.

"Salut... Comment t'appelle tu?"

"It's Ava. Carmen, you need to come scrape your roommate off of our dorm room floor. He's getting on our nerves... We're pretty sure he's drunk. Either that or he's finally snapped."

"Erik, you moron..." Carmen sighed, "Okay, I'll be there in a minute."

Carmen hung up the phone and grabbed her shoes before heading to her friend's room. At least now she knew where Erik was.

Moments later, Jessica was ushering her into the room. It was blatantly obvious that something was seriously wrong with Erik. He was babbling incoherently about being all "twisty-minded" inside... whatever that meant.

"Oh Erik," Carmen sighed, placing her head in her hands, "What have you done to yourself?"

"Nufflin! Abslootly nuffling, m'lady!" he slurred.

"Bullshit!" she cried, "Look at you! You're completely wasted!"

"No... Dey might fine sum use fer me yet..."

"Just shut up before you say something dumb and make me mad."

With that, Erik began to laugh madly. It was a strange, drunken, humorless laugh that Carmen couldn't help but despise.

"There he goes again..." muttered Jessica. "Carmen, take care of your buddy and get him out of here..."

"Will do, Jessie... sorry about this, guys."

"Don't call me Jessie."

"Well I can't call you 'ica', now can I?"

"No." Jessica shut the door, leaving Carmen in the hall way with Erik, who could hardly stand on his own and was swaying dangerously. She pulled one of his muscular arms over her own shoulders so she could help him stand.

"Lemme go!" he murmured, trying to stand on his own, but swaying into the wall instead.

"No can do, Erik. You act like an idiot, I treat you like an idiot..."

Erik let out a drunken moan that was probably supposed to mean something along the lines of 'Would you rather I punjab you or throw you in the torture chamber?'.

It was a relief to be back in the room again. At least in here, there was little risk of their being noticed. Erik was at the keyboard now, playing a piece that Carmen didn't recognize. It was already a dark-sounding song, but the added dissonance created when Erik's drunken fingers missed the keys made it sound simply demonic.

She wanted to know so many things... Where had he gotten alcohol? Why had he drunk so much? In fact, why had he drunk at all? Obviously, she was not going to get any answers out of Erik now. She would have to wait until tomorrow, when she could exploit his hangover and force a reply out of him...

The next morning was anything but pleasant. Carmen woke to the sound of Erik retching himself inside out, and Erik... well, he was, you guessed it, retching himself inside out!

"Well Erik,"Carmen said when he came out of the bathroom, "You've been throwing up all morning. That can only mean one thing... you're pregnant!"

Erik didn't laugh... party pooper! Instead, his response was to curse at her and crawl back into bed.

"You want an asprin or something?" she offered. There was no way she was going to get any answers out of him when all he did was barf and sleep and swear...

"Please!" came Erik's reply, muffled by the pillow he was currently burying his head in.

"Well too bad." Carmen snapped, "You get nothing until I get answers!"

"Or until I get up and get it myself."

"Good luck reading the labels. I hope you don't the wrong pills..."

Damn! Erik thought bitterly. She'd called his bluff. Actually, he'd already tried to take pain relievers, and had run into that exact problem... he hadn't even been able to tell which medicine cabinet was the right one, nonetheless which pill he should be taking!

"Asprin first. Questions after..." he muttered.

"No."

"Sadist!"

"Whatever Erik. Call me whatever you like, I won't give you anything until you tell why you're like this!"

"You know very well–!"

"No, why did you get drunk in the first place!"

"Well, mother!" he snapped, "I was confused and I couldn't take it anymore!... If you must know!" Erik wasn't exactly shouting, as shouting would have made his head go spinning out of control, resulting in nothing more than another unpleasant trip to the loo, but he was coming awfully close... Why couldn't Carmen just let him be! Wasn't this dreadful headache that interfered so badly with his ability to think straight punishment enough!

"Okay," Carmen said softly, apparently frightened by his sudden anger. "But where did you find alcohol, anyways?"

"I am not some misbehaving child, Carmen!" snarled Erik dangerously.

"Of course not." she said, seeming to agree with him wholeheartedly, "You're a misbehaving adult!"

Point taken, Erik thought. Of course, he would never had said that aloud... Instead, he said, "Interestingly enough, it was conveniently placed in your closet! What are you hiding!"

Carmen gasped. Her closet? But... she'd never bought alcohol before in her life! "No... You're lying!"

"I am an excellent liar,my dearsadist. In fact, I've made a veritable career of it, and apparently, someone has even taken the time to write a novel about my lies and what became as the result of them! If I was, in fact, lying, rest assured that my reply would have been far more biting, as words are currently the only way I am capable of gaining my revenge upon you for withholding that damned asprin from me in my hour of need!"

"Fine!" Carmen strode angrily into the bathroom and returned with the bottle of Tylenol PM. "Actually, this'll be better. It has sedatives so you'll be able to just sleep it off." The sooner Erik was asleep, the better. Carmen was far too angry with him to carry on her interrogation without hauling off and smacking him!

Erik didn't care if Carmen was angry. He had sedatives! He was triumphant! He was... incredibly tired, but not tired enough to fall asleep, or at least, not yet. Instead, he just closed his eyes. His head hurt less when he couldn't see the room spinning like a kaleidoscope all around him.

Carmen turned to see that Erik had already fallen asleep. The medicine had taken effect much quicker than she'd expected.

Asleep, Erik was impossible to stay angry with. He looked so much... simpler when his eyes were closed and his features relaxed, and yet, he still looked distantly sad.

"Oh, Erik..." she sighed, sitting down and brushing a stray hair out of his face, "Why do you have to do this? I wish you could just be happy for once... Just move past her, Erik. You deserve to live... but you'll never be able to if you keep dwelling on Christine." a tear slid down Carmen's cheek and landed on Erik's lips. She prayed it would not be enough to wake him. "You can be happy without her... How can I make you see that?"

When Erik was awake, Carmen had always carefully avoided the subject of his past. She would have been able to say what she'd just said to Erik while he was awake... never. She wasn't bold enough. Asleep, Carmen was going to tell him everything she'd wanted to tell him for weeks, everything she'd compiled about herself... But she would have to make it, short sweet, and to the point.

Nervously, she knelt down and kissed Erik's unmasked cheek. "Goodnight, Erik." she said, so quietly it was barely a whisper. "I love you."

Erik's eyes had been closed, perhaps, but all the evidence he needed was right there... the salt tear that lingered on his lips, yes, it had to be a tear. He knew the taste of tears better than he knew any food... But more so, in the feeling of her lips on his cheek. She'd kissed him... of her own accord... no fop tied to the door... no angsty trios... of her own free will...

Her own free will...

Her own...

Free...

The Tylenol finally took it's full effect on Erik, and he drifted off into the first pleasant sleep he'd had in a very long time.

So, what d'ya think? Once again, please don't kill me for the freakishly long time it took me to post this. I'll make it up to you with a nice, speedy chapter twelve. I probably won't start on it tonight, as it's one in the morning and I'm slapping myself to stay awake as it is, but I'll get a jump on it bright and early tomorrow morning, savvy?