BaH! This is my fourth time reposting this...cuz i spell checked it over, and re submitted it...but the corrections are NOT coming up. I am terribly sorry. So deal with the errors for now PLEASE

A/N: I'm having major deja vu...I could have sworn i thanked my reviewers before...but it never hurts to do it again! So thanks to: Theincredibleone, GoldenLyre, Lottesalterego, Nota Lone, Lucrecia LeVrai, Angeloftheoperahouse, Reylan, PinkPunkMonkey, Anime-queen46, Possumz, trebien, Eileeeeeeeeeeeen, and last but not least, Countess Alana.

Keep reviewing people...I LIVE for them! Which is sad, cuz i don't get many

"Come on Francois, we must catch them!" Gus shook himself out of his gaping shock. But Francois just stood stock still, his eyes fixed upon the grass below him where the Opera ghost had materialized moments ago. With his mask, cape and evil sneer, he was just as the stories described, except for the fact that he seemed to have a nose instead of a black hole.

"He's a ghost." He whispered, narrowing his eyes in thought.

"What's this nonsense? What are you talking about?" Gus asked, a confounded expression on his face as he turned to face Francois.

"That Madam Giry woman was telling the police about how she saw the Phantom of the Opera last night, his mask in tact and everything, so she knew it was him."

"Yes..." Gus prompted him to continue.

"She said she saw him die! She told the police that she saw him emerge from the cellars, as she led the Vicomte down to search for Ms. Daae. Apparently he was caught in the flames and was burnt to a crisp." Francois said with his eyebrows raised.

"Obviously not. Plus...if he was a ghost, how could he die again?" Gus asked, and Francois rolled his eyes at this stupid statement. "Plus, that man down there was flesh and blood just like you and myself. He picked up that girl and carried her off! He's most certainly not dead."

"The girl Gus!" Francois exclaimed seizing the man next to him by the shoulder, "you might have killed her you imbecile!" Gus frowned.

"Well, that masked fellow has her now, doubt she'd have been alive much longer anyway."

"Gus! Come, we must try to find her, I'm sure she was a chorus girl, I recognized her from the Il Muto Opera." With that, the two men departed from the window.

Erik was careful not to stumble over fallen branches and rocks as he fled into the park located to the right of the Opera House. It had the most plentiful amount of trees to hide amongst nearby. It would have to do until Meg recovered. Her long blonde hair fell from over her closed eyes and hung over Erik's arm, and the fresh wound in her arm dripped blood.

He found a relatively grassy clearing amidst the trees, and he placed her delicate form down, putting her bundle of clothes under her head. Ripping off a portion of his thin white sleeve, Erik fashioned a tourniquet around her sliced arm where it bled most freely. He checked her pulse again, still there. Now all he had to do was wait.

Half an hour past and pacing around the trees was becoming redundant. Thankfully Meg stirred slightly, and tried to lift her head up. "Mmmmm," she groaned settling back down. "What happened?" She hissed in pain.

"As you apparently have no skill in the ways of sneaking without becoming an apparition...you were caught inside the Opera House and flung from a second story window." Erik declared the basic plot of the events which had unfolded within the past hour.

The memories flooded back into Meg's head sharply and painfully. She grumbled, sitting up and rubbing her head, where a large bump was steadily forming. "Ohhhh dear." She said, taking in the sight of her arm, the blood had seeped through the fabric of Erik's shirt.

"I see I have much to teach you." Erik said, his voice low. He knelt down beside her to inspect for further injuries. Meg thought with a small smile, Christine was taught by the Phantom how to sing, and I will be taught how to become a master in the skills of sneaking.

Meg knew that the moment was not right for small talk, but she was feeling delusional, as her head had been nearly knocked off, and her brain probably shaken therefore she said; "Well Erik, I must say, your not only very skilled at being a Phantom, but your lyrics and music are...well I suppose, magical, and there is so much feeling and emotions! I mean, Don Juan Triumphant, on a whole was rather a disturbing Opera in itself, but the last song you sang with Christine...was amazing." Erik was looking the other way, and Meg could not discern the look on his face. "How did it go again?" She began to sing in a wavering voice, "You have come here...in pursuit of that..." but the author of the lyrics interrupted her...

"No! it was an B flat!" Erik spat at Meg.

"What!" She yelped, jumping up.

"A B flat, you sang a...oh never mind" Erik said and sang the line the correct way. "You have come here in pursuit of your deepest urge, in pursuit of that wish which 'till now has been silent...silent." His face held a strained expression as he forced his sonorous voice out, and it clung like sweet molasses to the leaves of the trees that surrounded them, resonating the notes back towards them.

"Ahh, like this?" Meg hummed a B flat note.

"Yes..." Erik said softly, "just like that."

"Well, I think I may be able to get up now." Meg said, not necessarily to Erik, but just as verbal encouragement to herself. She staggered into standing position, clutching her head. Slinging her possessions over her shoulder, she smoothed out her cloak and looked ahead. From here, the buildings in the distance were visible beyond the park. Erik disappeared as she commenced her trek through the deserted park.

A map was being sketched out in Meg's mind. She should know where the De Chagny manor was, after all, she had been there numerous times. Always with Christine, mostly during the three months in which the Phantom's terror was in a lull.

But usually Meg had taken a majestic horse drawn carriage ride to the manor, she hoped she could recollect where they had headed as Christine and her had giggled and gossiped in the carriage. The walk may also be difficult if she were to remain unobserved.

The outskirts of the park were bustling with activity. Finely dressed men and women hurried every which way and children with muddy trousers and skirts frolicked in the puddles jovially. As though a flaming chandelier had not come crashing down last night, bringing the fate of the Opera house with it.

Taking a superfluous glance behind her, Meg was not surprised to find the absence of Erik in her wake. Meg couldn't quite decipher how he could become virtually invisible. He was truly a genius, or perhaps just a very savvy madman. Either way, the cloaked ballerina admired his talents.

A jewelry shop was located across the street, and with few oncoming cars, Meg seized the opportunity and scurried across, pulling up the hood of her cloak. The shop was one she always remembered seeing on the journey to the manor, if she could just keep finding these landmarks, she would be there in no time.

"Mademoiselle, if you please, won't you try the latest?" A prim made up woman in a black fur wrap and cylinder hat stopped Meg, outside Lle Parfum, a high class shoppe hat Madam Giry sometimes went into. Indulging in a new scent before a gala.

"No thank you." Meg said in her mousy voice, and pushed past her, pulling the thin silky black material tighter around her.

Looking down at the pavement ahead of her, Meg attempted to plan her conversation with Christine. She could imagine..."Oh Christine! Dearest Christine, I met your stalker just last night, taking pity on him I brought him to you so he can torment and seduce you once more! Perhaps this time he will succeed in murdering your fiancé."

Her dear friend, was she doing her a favor? Or just making way for her nightmares to live on?

In her haste, Meg stumbled into a squat toad-like woman. Her hair thick and grey seeped from her high feathery hat like slime. She harrumphed and warbled only the most dignified French curses.

"Sorry madam." Meg mumbled and resumed her travels.

Turning street after street, she realized she had been acquainted with these sites. And at last, the De Chagny manor stood before her at the dead end of a grand road. Its vastness loomed over her. And though it was a beautiful mahogany colored building with ivy clinging to its every inch, it was no Opera House, Meg soughed.

She stood at the huge metal gate contemplating what to do. Leaning back upon the gate's pillar, she scanned the street full of grand edifices. Erik was surely somewhere watching Meg choke upon her plan.

Surveying the landscape from the window of the study perhaps, Christine Daaé spotted her fellow chorus member outside, and rushed downstairs to greet her. Garbed in a simple dress the color of midnight, it was long sleeved and flowed, swirling behind her as she burst out the door and ran down the carved stone steps of the mansion. She unlatched the gate and it swung open with a creak.

"Meg!" Christine squeaked flinging her arms around her friend. Lines of worry could be seen embedded in her forehead as she embraced her friend. "Megmegmeg your okay! We thought you were gone for sure!" Exclaimed the former Prima Donna, her hands on Meg's shoulders.

"No Christine, I'm fine. I'm so glad your here, I was worried about you too."

"Well, I was about to go to the theatre to help the police search for the missing. Did you hear, there are still nearly fifteen unaccounted for? When Raoul returns from the investigation, perhaps we can go."

Meg froze. She had been so overjoyed to reunite with Christine that she had momentarily forgotten her purpose here. Christine must have seen her expression, for she inquired what was wrong.

"Oh nothing, but Christine..." Meg tried to explain to her why she was here, but the words wouldn't form in her throat.

"Come on inside Meg, tell me everything that has happened." She took her hand and lead her inside.

A maid in a white dress and frilly gray apron promptly attended to them at the door, smiling and gesturing for Meg's cloak and possessions. Meg untied the cloak and thanked the maid.

But this action revealed her wounded arm, wound in a tourniquet made from Erik's shirt sleeve.

"Good God Meg, what did you do to your arm?" She reached for it and inspected the stained red bandage. Meg pulled away, "It's really okay, just last night in the chaos, a wooden plank fell and scraped my arm." Meg lied, not wanting quite yet to tell the true whereabouts of the cut. Christine just nodded.

"Well let's not stand here all day, let's go into the living room, I'll fix you up a proper bandage." She said heading left from the high ceilinged entrance hall, which sported a miniature chandelier, simply dripping with crystals. Meg found herself standing directly beneath it, she shivered and followed Christine into the Vicomte's living room.

The guest sat upon one of three pale yellow leather couches, and gazed around the room, relishing in the beauty. The wallpaper was flowers on a white background, very subtle and guest friendly. Portraits of the De Chagny family lined the walls. Christine returned with a bowl full of hot water and fresh cloths. She sat towards meg and untied the fabric around her arm that belonged to her angel. She rolled up Meg's broken sleeve and cocked her head at the sight of the cut which ran from Meg's shoulder to the back of her elbow.

"This couldn't have happened last night." She said curiously, not accusingly. "It's still bleeding profusely. It ought to have healed a bit."

The petite and frazzled girl who sat on the couch of the man she must soon betray felt her stomach twist as her lie backfired. Luckily Christine did not dwell on the subject. She dipped a cloth in water and brought it to the cut.

Meg squinted as it made contact with her ruptured skin, for the heat stung. She spoke to make the pain less apparent. "Where has Raoul gone again? To the Opera House?"

"I believe so, to answer some questions the police had. He came back not an hour ago to inform me of the missing people. You were among them, and I nearly had a heart attack. He returned there to help search for..." Christine stopped.

"What?" Meg asked.

"The Phantom of the Opera." Christine answered softly.

A/N: Just a filler chapter really. Read and respond. Next will be more excitable!