Chapter Four: Uncovering Fate's Plans

"You're awake! Hi, my name is Rosalyn…" she bit her lip, remembering the man had been speaking French last night. "Bonjour. Je m'appelle Rosalyn."

She racked her brain, trying to think of what else to say, but resolved to wait for his reaction before continuing. Besides, I don't want him to know my French is crap! Not, that he doesn't know that already!

His panic subsided a little the moment she spoke. Erik could do nothing but stare at the woman before him. Her large almond eyes—black like the night—looked at him with concern and she bit her pink lips after she finished speaking. She had long, straight black hair that, from what he could see, reached down to her waist. It was quite wet, so it was slicked back from her face, and when the sun hit it, different colors reflected out, some reddish and some golden. Quite shorter than him, he estimated that she stood at about 5'3" but held herself up to seem taller.

He was far from ignorant of other cultures, having traveled extensively after being in Persia, but he could not quite pinpoint her ethnicity. Her voice was friendly, and she spoke English with an accent he also could not place. She definitely wasn't from England, he decided.

Clearing his throat, Erik finally spoke. "Bonjour, Mademoiselle Rosalyn. I speak English, if you prefer that. You may call me Erik. If you could kindly explain where I am and what I'm doing here, it would be greatly appreciated…"

Though he tried to stop himself, his eyes lingered down her body. He had seen ballerinas changing before and knew about corsets, but he did not know what this woman in front of him wore. It was barely covering her breasts! He averted his eyes swiftly, hoping she would not think him a pervert.

"Also, if you could kindly dress yourself for modesty's sake, I would appreciate it."

The first thing Rosalyn noticed when he spoke was how musical his voice was. He had a slight French accent but pronounced his words with an English accent. I bet he speaks a few languages. Wow, I'm such a sucker for accents! The second thing she noticed was the sadness in his voice, as if he had gone through a difficult ordeal and was only coming to terms with whatever had happened.

She blushed as her mind comprehended the last thing he had said. Looking down, she realized she was only wearing her bikini top and boardshorts. Eeek! Though she was desensitized of seeing half-naked forms on the beach, she was still self-conscious about her own body. Running into her own room, she quickly pulled on a hooded sweatshirt and pulled the sleeves up to her elbows so she would not get too hot. She could feel the heat in her cheeks still, the stranger's comments about modesty ringing in her mind.

Finally returning to where she had stood moments ago, she took a deep breath. Where do I begin?

"For starters, you are in my home in San Diego…" she said hesitantly. "And…"

"San… San Diego?" he interrupted. "Am I in Spain?"

"What? Spain? Try California, as in the United States, half-way around the world from Spain!" she scoffed a little too rudely, not knowing why she had reacted like that. Embarrassed by her reaction, she bit her lip again and cast her eyes downward.

Warning bells went off in Erik's minds. How had he wound up in California? How had he managed to not only cross the Atlantic Ocean, but also the entire length of the United States?

"That's impossible," he whispered under his breath. "That's impossible!" he said again, louder and more urgently. He attempted to get up, to run away from this place but found only the sharp pain in his body.

"Whoa, calm down! Calm down! We'll get to the bottom of this. Look, I found you on the beach, practically dead."

He had come from the Pacific Ocean? Panic took him. Nothing made sense.

His eyes focused on the top Rosalyn wore. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. He looked around the room at all the boxes stacked against the wall, then back at Rosalyn. His eyes widened with something that was beyond panic.

"What is the date today?" he questioned, his voice shaking with fear.

"The date, today?"

"Must you repeat everything I say to you?" his voice boomed with impatience.

"Sorry," she said meekly, her cheeks flushing again with embarrassment. "I think today is June 23rd."

"No, woman! The year! What year is this?"

Woman? Who does he think he is, speaking to me in that tone! she thought angrily.

"2005. You know, it's been 2005 for half a year already. A few more months and it will be 2006," she said in a condescending tone.

Impossible! It's simply impossible, he tried to reason with himself. There must be a logical explanation to this! He closed his eyes but that logical explanation would not present itself to him. He must learn more from her! An argument within his mind erupted.

Ask her! Ask her how you came to be in California in the future! Fool, she looks as lost as you! If you tell her you're from the future, she will cast you out and then you will surely die!

But she seems caring and understanding! She saved our lives! How do you know? You've known her all of five minutes!

She took us into her home, despite our appearances! Our appearances? Our appearances…

Ever so slowly, Erik brought his right hand to his face, searching for the familiar feeling of porcelain, or at the very least, the leather of the mask he wore last.

Rosalyn could nothing but stare at the man with his eyes closed. Had he fallen asleep again? A million different thoughts raced through her mind, and she desperately sought the one that made the most sense. A traumatic experience could trigger bouts of amnesia. Being thrown from whatever ship he was on could very well count as a traumatic experience. The other side of her brain told her that she had only ever seen it in movies and television. What did she know about amnesia and head trauma?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the scream that pierced the otherwise silent air. It was not a womanly scream, like the way Rosalyn yelps during a scary movie, but a wail of loss, hurt, and pain. It was the type of scream she imagined would be heard at a funeral when a mother is burying her son or a husband his wife.

"Where is it?" he half-yelled, half-sobbed. "Where is my mask?"

His mask! Rosalyn's eyes widened as she heard those words. He coped with his deformity by hiding it from the world!

"Where is it? What did you do with it?" he continued to ask, his eyes begging her to return it.

"I…I haven't seen a mask! You weren't wearing a mask when I found you!" she tried to explain.

"Liar! You little lying Delilah!" he accused, his eyes flashing a dangerous golden color. "Curiosity got the better of you, and you removed my mask! I know it!" Just as quickly as his anger had arose, it subsided into sadness. "Please," he sobbed, his voice barely a whisper. He covered his face with both hands. "Please give it back!"

"I'm sorry, Erik. I don't have it." Her heart broke at the sight of a grown man reduced to tears. She took a step forward, then stopped, trying to decide if she should console him. Finally, she approached the bed and sat beside him, leaning over him.

Before he realized what she was doing, she had gently lifted his upper body and propped him up to a half-sitting position with a few pillows. Grasping his wrist with her left hand and pulling his hands from his face, she used the sleeve of her sweater to wipe his tears. He was completely stunned by this action but could only look forward, not wanting to see the pity in her eyes.

"Look, I understand why you feel the need to cover your face with a mask. People can be cruel." Her mind went blank suddenly and she didn't know what to say next. "…But that's just your exterior. It's what's inside that counts." She cringed as she realized how cheesy she was sounding. Watch much Barney?

He turned and looked at her slowly, but her face had turned into Christine's!

This haunted face holds no horror for me now.

It's in your soul that the true distortion lies.

A/N: Dun dun duuuun! Thank you everyone for reading my story! I really appreciate the reviews! Again, thank you!

If you're wondering why Rosalyn didn't put two and two together when Erik mentioned his mask, remember that she doesn't know what it looks like. Hint about her character: she is no typical Mary Sue! There are people in the world gasp who don't know much about the Phantom, including people who have never seen the movie! Double gasp!