A/N: This is mostly from Annette's POV. Hardly any Christine in this chapter, I'm afraid. Don't forget to review!
Stand and Watch It Burn: Giry Tells Two Lies II
"Mrs. Giry?"
Annette jumped in surprise as she opened the front door of her home, nearly colliding with Detective Andrews, who stepped back a little and smiled.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Andrews! I'm just in a rush to get back to the hospital. Charles..."
"He isn't doing better, then?"
Annette simply shook her head. "I'm afraid...it won't be long until..." she drifted off and cleared her throat, composing herself. She had held it together for the past few weeks. No way was she going to fall apart right now, in front of someone else. "He's just relieved that all this mess is over, as are we all. Is there anything I can do for you?"
The man's pleasant expression grew somber, as if realizing the reason for his visit. "May I come in?"
A little taken aback, Annette slowly nodded and let the man inside her living room. She shut the door behind her and took a deep breath, facing the detective with a calm expression. "Is something wrong?"
Andrews gave her a knowing look and took a step toward her. "I think...I think you better sit down."
Nothing but pure dread filled Annette's heart at that moment.
"Hello, Annette," he murmured coldly, a wry smile playing upon his lips. "Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise..."
"Erik..." Annette rasped, struggling to keep her anger in check. "Was that extremely necessary?"
The man gave a rather graceful but clearly unrepentant shrug as he replied, "I prefer to be cautious. I'm not inclined to visitors, as you know."
Annette rubbed the lingering pain from the skin on her neck as she peered at him warily in the shadows. He had not changed much, she noted. He was a little thinner then she recalled, but he had enough build to present himself as a confident, dangerous figure. The intricately carved white mask gleamed dangerously, fitting the right half of his face almost as if it were made perfectly for his features. He wore what was probably a black, dark cloak that blended him with the shadowy walls of the murky cave-like basement of his home. She could see, as he stepped into the candlelight, that his jaw was tensed and his mouth was set into a firm, thin line. His entire stance was stiff as he warily observed her, as if poised to strike the moment an opportunity presented himself.
They stood there for what seemed like hours, eyeing each other speculatively, waiting for the other to speak. Honestly, Annette did not even know what to say. She had regretted seeking him out the moment she stepped inside Willoughby Academy's century old walls. When she had stumbled and nearly fallen down an impossibly steep flight of stairs that led in neat spirals down past the basement of the school, she knew she made a mistake.
"As much as I enjoy this touching little reunion," his low, dangerous voice snapped her out of her reverie, "I find myself wondering why you've seen fit to invade my privacy and trespass upon my home, Madame."
His bitter sarcasm did not go unnoticed by Annette, who remembered that upon her arrival he had first addressed her by her name. He had been caught off guard then, but he was always able to adapt to any situation quickly. Still, she braced herself against his scathing remarks and imposing presence and regarded him coolly.
"And I'm wondering why you've seen fit to have conversations through the walls with my niece."
Although she knew the question had caught him off guard, he did not move a muscle. "If your niece wasn't left in a practically empty school hours after her dismissal each day, perhaps I wouldn't feel the need to save the child from her apparent abandonment."
He was purposely goading her, she knew, and she refused to let him win. "She doesn't need you to keep her distracted from her friends, Erik. If you want her to sing? Fine. I'll get her lessons. But you're practically depriving her of her social life."
Erik took a sudden step forward, his grey blue eyes now narrowed with contained anger. "Lessons? From some inadequate fool who will undo all the progress I've made on that girl's voice? That won't happen. Perhaps if you had the care to have allowed her training during her youth, unlocking her talent would not rely on me."
"You no nothing," Annette snapped, his words hitting a nerve. "Christine did not want to sing. She did not want lessons. I am...grateful...that she seemed to have let her guard down regarding music. But..."
"Wonderful," he interrupted, taking a few more approaching steps. "I'm glad you approve, Annette. Now, do tell me the real reason for your visit. I hardly think you would seek me out after three years simply to express your gratitude for my teaching capabilities."
Annette faltered. He had her at a disadvantage. He was only about a foot away, an nearly towered over her. His mask, though it had hardly ever intimidated her in all the years she had known him, seemed to give off a dangerous glimmer in the darkness, as it clashed with his black attire. She had to consciously keep her feet where they were in order to not retreat a few steps.
"I am going on a trip," she answered as firmly as she could. "For a few days, I am going to visit a friend in New York. Christine will be staying with her friend Liam until I return." She paused a bit, and seeing as he made no move to speak, continued. "I am asking you to look out for her while I'm gone. It's very important to me that you keep an eye on her, when you can. Take notice of her presence in school, that sort of thing."
Erik eyed her for a long moment, studying her closely. "She's seventeen. I'm sure that's old enough to protect herself from the big, bad world for a few days of your absence, Annette."
"Please, Erik. I am asking you for a favor. Please put three years ago aside for a few days, if not for me then for Christine." Annette did not try to sound desperate, but she hoped the pleading gaze in her eyes did not lead him to ask questions. She didn't need him to follow her like a hawk, in fact, that would probably make her more uneasy rather than reassured. She just needed someone to make sure she came to school each day, didn't disappear.
Erik seemed to consider her for a moment or two, before giving one gracious nod to the relieved Annette. Satisfied, Annette straightened her long wool skirt with the palms of her hands and walked back up the narrow tunnel that would eventually lead up several flights of stairs, through another tunnel, down a wet corridor and up through the basement door of the school.
As an afterthought, Annette stopped and turned around. Erik hadn't moved, and was still facing away from her. "Whatever you're doing...with the lessons, she's happier. She's almost as happy as...well, thank you." She turned around toward the tunnel exit, but stopped at the sound of his voice, low and less harsh, but still cold.
"I have only done what you and her father obviously did not care to do."
Annette pursed her lips and looked at a wet puddle of water in front of her. "Yes...well, we can't live in the past, can we?" It was spoken as melancholy statement rather than a question. "Goodbye, Erik," she finished softly. She may or may not have heard a muttered response as she disappeared through the tunnel's long corridors.
"I won't!" Annette heard Christine cry as she embraced her father. "I won't!"
Regretting her timing, Annette cleared her throat awkwardly but remained on the outskirts of the hospital room, not wanting to disturb what was probably Charles's farewell to his daughter. After a moment, Charles gently lifted Christine's head from his chest and lovingly brushed some hair out of her eyes. She saw him smile at her, and before she knew it Christine had silently left the room.
"I...I'm sorry I'm late..." she muttered to the emotionally and physically drained Charles, who dismissed her apology with a hand gesture. "Detective Andrews...stopped by."
"Oh?" Charles managed to quirk an interested eyebrow. Annette only nodded. "I meant to...give that kid a gift. He's...he's done a lot...more than I could ever ask for. He saved our family, he and his crew..." his voice sounded hoarse, as if every word he uttered took a considerable amount of effort. Annette swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I want you to...thank him for me..."
"You can thank him yourself," Annette stated firmly, but it only evoked a weak chuckle from her friend. She took a breath, bracing herself for what she was about to say, before Charles interrupted her.
"I...want to thank you too, Ann..." he rasped. "You've given up a lot...just to...be with us. With Christine. It...it means a lot. I...don't think I ever had the pleasure of having a friend like you."
"Charles, please, you know I don't like it when you start..."
"Ann, listen to me. Listen." Annette looked into his faded eyes and tried to keep her breathing steady. "Take Christine somewhere. Don't raise her in this godforsaken town. Take her up north, where her mother grew up. Middletown. You don't need the memories in this place."
"Char—"
"Make sure she's happy. She finally can be. You finally can be. You don't have to worry about him anymore."
"Charles..." She knew, at that moment, her voice gave her away. Charles stopped talking and studied her intently.
"What did...Andrews...want?"
"I...he...Charles..."
"Tell...me..."
Annette watched the heart monitor beep furiously as his pulse quickened and heart weakened. Her eyes widened and she moved to retrieve a nurse when Charles cold hand grasped hers, keeping her in place.
"Please...tell me, Ann...that...he is gone."
Annette opened her mouth but no words spilled out. She noticed with panic that Charles' grip on her arm loosened considerably and he leaned back, his breathing increasingly shallow.
"Ann...Tell her...I love her...and..."
"Charles!"
"...Tell me...promise me...promise me...she's safe. That he's gone."
Annette was vaguely aware of the racing footsteps of doctors and nurses as they approached the hospital room.
"Tell me...promise me that I'm leaving an earth without him in it...Promise me...I'm not abandoning my...little girl. Promise me..."
She was forced to watch helplessly as the man she had grown close with for several years, the man whom she had shared loss with and experienced joy, gaze up at her with dying, pleading eyes. "He's gone," she forced a comforting smile upon her face as she squeezed his hand. "You can...leave with peace, Charles. He's...dead."
A small, weak smile appeared on his face and his eyes fluttered shut. The monitor flat-lined as the doctors rushed in the room, but it was too late.
He had died believing they were rid of the monster. Would the truth have kept him alive, fighting? Would he even have wanted to hear the truth? She would never know.
Annette had never once let go of his hand.
"Aunt Annette! You're back! You had me worried!"
Annette walked into the house as Christine jumped up fromthe couch and nearly ran over to her aunt. "I'm sorry, Christine," she replied truthfully. "I forgot to leave a note. I had to go run some errands."
"Oh. You could have called my cell phone and I would have come given you the car," Christine said, apologetically.
"Don't worry about it. I sometimes prefer taking the bus rather than driving myself." She entered the kitchen, Christine at her heels, and began taking out items to use for dinner. Noticing Christine hovering, an expression of nervousness and concern on her face, she stopped what she was doing and looked at her niece. "Something wrong?"
"I just..." Christine hesitated. "I'm just wondering if something's wrong. You seem a little...unlike yourself lately. I'm just worried. Is everything okay?"
Annette turned her attention back to the kitchen supplies, skillfully avoiding her niece's gaze. "I'm afraid I have a friend up in New York who is ill, Christine. In fact, I am going up for a few days to visit him, you see. I've talked to Liam's parents today, so you can stay with him. Is that alright?"
Christine's eyes widened and she frowned. "Oh, I'm sorry. I knew something was wrong, I was just worried. When are you leaving?"
Annette bit her lip, thinking. "As soon as possible."
Christine nodded sympathetically and sat by the table. "Well, I'm sure you being there will be a nice surprise," she said thoughtfully.
"Yes..." Annette replied. "Yes, I'm sure my visit will be very surprising."
Indeed. She, of all people, was probably the last person Detective Andrews would be expecting to show up at his home.
A/N: I realize there was probably more flashback stuff going on then actual stuff, but I hope you guys didn't hate it. PLEASE REVIEW! I can honestly say there's no way I'll want to keep going if I don't get any feedback telling me I should/shouldn't. I hope you enjoyed it!
BTW: Confused seems to be a generally accepted reaction as of now...don't worry, you'll get some answers in the next one, which will be finished/up depending on ALL OF YOU. So, hop to it, reviewers!
la M.R
