XXIV
Erik staggered up to watch rehearsals. He felt worse than ever. His head and throat throbbed and he was grateful to collapse in the flies where he would remain unseen. He turned his head and watched the performers move across the stage and decided that he would skip the performance that evening.
As the rehearsal ended he climbed to his feet. He had had enough, the music only caused his head to hurt more and it had taken all his effort not to cough and give away his position. Despite his best efforts as he walked a cough racked his body and he had to kneel to prevent losing his balance. Several of the ballet rats screamed at the sudden sound and he cursed silently as he quickly climbed down from his vantage point.
"Hush, hush. Quiet down!" Antoinette ordered.
"It was him," Jacqueline exclaimed, "It was the Phantom of the Opera!"
"Nuh-uh," Meg said knowingly, "ghosts don't get sick."
"Girls," Antoinette repeated, "please settle down, it was most likely one of the stagehands. Go to the practise room and stretch, then you may return to the dormitory and rest until the performance."
Antoinette could not help but smiled when the all scampered away in a tight group. Phantom of the Opera, they had come up with that name by themselves and often used it instead of Opera Ghost. She had to admit, it had a certain ring to it.
"Excuse me Monsieur," Antoinette said as she pushed past Monsieur Lefevre, "I must go speak with someone."
"Oh, well all right," He murmured.
It wasn't hard to find Erik; he was down one of the deserted hallways, nearly doubled over. Antoinette clucked her tongue when she saw him, the infamous Opera Ghost nearly on his knees because of a cough. It brought back painful memories.
"Oh dear," she murmured as he slid to the floor.
"Is that all you have to say Madame?" he asked.
She sighed and pressed her hand against his forehead, "You have a fever," she said.
"Yes, yes and a headache and a cough, thank you Madame you are quite observant."
She frowned slightly but took no offence to his abrasive tone. When he had been younger he had cracked a rib and responded in nearly the same manner, like a wounded animal, snapping at her helping hand.
"You certainly frightened my girls."
"I think I'll go home now," Erik growled.
Antoinette watched as he climbed to his feet, swayed slightly and slid back down to the floor, "And how do you intend to do that?"
"The same way I got up here," he groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead.
"And how was that?"
"Carefully," he began to cough again and added, "very carefully."
"You cannot return to your lair, you're very sick Erik. Come, I will help you to my room, you can stay there."
"Your room Madame?" he asked wryly, "how kind of you."
Antoinette rolled her eyes and helped him to his feet. At least he had not lost his sense of humour. It took some time to get to her room, mostly because they had to avoid the many people on their way. When they finally arrived Antoinette pushed Erik into the chair. She pressed a damp cloth to his forehead and moved about the room. Erik watched her pour an amber coloured liquid into a glass. She pressed it into his hands and told him to drink it. Erik obeyed and sputtered as the liquid burned his throat.
"That is disgusting," he choked.
"It will help clear your throat and make you sleep," she assured him, "something I know you have not been doing."
Erik glared at her with little conviction. Making a disgusted noise he shoved the glass back into her hands. He already felt tired and Antoinette seemed to be telling the truth, he could feel his eyelids getting heavy.
"Have a good sleep Erik."
"Shuddup."
Antoinette shook her head and threw a thin blanket over him. He looked paler then usual and there was a dark circle under his left eye, he had obviously been neglecting himself again. She went to the kitchen and got some bread and cheese, placing it on the small table she left the room.
When Antoinette entered her room after the performance she was surprised to be greeted by Erik's steady breathing. She had half expected him to wake up and leave; however judging by the blanket and the fact that none of the food had been eaten she guessed that he hadn't even woken up.
It was strange, he looked so harmless now. Fast asleep, head tilted slightly to one side and mouth slightly open. If anyone saw him now they would not believe him to be the cause of every problem in the theatre.
Very carefully Antoinette pulled back the blanket and untied the cravat and unbuttoned his jacket, waistcoat and the first few buttons of the white shirt underneath. He barely stirred and she realized just how tired he must have been. She replaced the blanket carefully and brushed the back of her hand across his cheek.
"Poor dear," she murmured.
With a heavy sigh she lied down in her bed. She was tired and sleep claimed her quickly. At least the performance had gone well, and there would be no notes from the Ghost to say otherwise.
"Erik," Antoinette hissed, "Erik wake up, there is someone at the door."
Erik opened his eyes and stared blearily at her for a moment before realization dawned on him, "What?"
"Hide, there is someone at the door."
He sighed and dragged himself to his feet and positioned himself against the wall, just out of sight of the door. Antoinette double-checked before opening it.
"Maman," Meg exclaimed, "you have to come maman!"
"Meg, what is it dear?"
"Madame hurry and come with us, Isabelle is sick Madame," Christine said desperately.
"Very sick maman, she has a stomach ache and there's blood, hurry maman."
"Oh my dears," Antoinette chuckled softly as she realized what was happening, "Isabelle is not sick, but I will be there in a moment. Go back to the dormitory, I will be right there."
The two girls exchanged nervous glances and hurried away. They were still in there nightgowns. Antoinette shook her head and turned back to her room. Erik was doing up the buttons of his waistcoat.
"Enough excitement for one morning?" he asked scratchily, then he cleared his throat.
"So you're throat is still sore?" Antoinette asked. Then she pressed her hand against his cheek, "well at least your fever is gone. Here eat this."
"I should go."
"And where do you have to be?"
"No where."
"Then you will stay here. You will not get any better if you return to that lair of yours. Not unless you plan on actually eating and sleeping."
"I might just do that."
"Eat."
Erik sighed and took the bread, it was stale and the crumbs irritated his throat and made him cough. He groaned when Antoinette offered him a glass of water and another small glass of the amber liquid. He drank the water and glared at the other glass.
"I am not drinking that again, it was vulgar."
"You will drink it if you want to get better. I have to go talk with my girls."
"Ah that talk," Erik said wryly, and then he drank the liquid.
"Yes that one," she chuckled as Erik choked on the drink again, "I will return in a bit."
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, slumping back into the chair and frowning.
Antoinette was about to leave when she turned back, "It has been a long time Erik."
"Yes, it has indeed," Erik, said, his expression lightening.
The door closed and Erik leaned his head back, it had been a long time. To think that one stupid comment, one that most likely meant nothing, had caused such a huge rift to form between them. And yet she was still there to help him, just as she had been when they were young. She had told him something once, when he had hurt himself and she had helped him. Everyone needs someone Erik, even ghosts.
Erik spent nearly two hours in the room before he started to get restless. He supposed that the talk was either taking longer than expected or that Antoinette had had something else to do as well.
"You are still here?" she asked upon entering the room.
"I had no where else to go," he grumbled, "and you have a very strange definition of 'a bit.'"
"Well I did not expect you to stay," she replied, "after all it has been, what? Four years since we have actually spoken?"
"We have spoken far more recently then that Madame."
"You speaking from inside walls and ceilings does not count. I mean since we have actually spoken Erik, a face-to-face."
"I guess that is true Madame…four years?"
"Since Christine first came to the theatre."
"That is an awfully long time."
"Yes it is…I do not even remember why. I remember that you were angry over something, but not what."
"You called me strange," he said softly, "that is why I was angry…"
"I remember now. You know that I did not mean what I said that way, don't you Erik?"
"I guess I do…I always seem to find insults where there aren't any. I fear that I did the same on that day. I over reacted and look what it has done. Four years is a long time."
He heard her chuckle as she shook her head and he couldn't help but give a short laugh, "What Madame?"
"Nothing my friend, I am just glad to see you again. Quite truthfully I have been worrying about you these past years. Lord knows what you do in that lair of yours, I at least know that you do not take care of yourself."
"No, you were always the one to do that Madame…it seems that you still do."
"Old habits," she sighed, "what would you have done without me?"
"I would most likely have starved…I should go."
"If you ever need a friend Erik-"
"If I ever need a friend I know where to find you…good day Madame."
He gave a neat little bow before making his way to the door. Pressing his ear against it he slowly pushed it open. The hall was empty and he made his way quickly to the first passage he could find. He felt a great deal better thanks to Antoinette; he supposed that she was still his guardian of sorts, even after so many years. It had been good to talk with her again; still, he did not intend to share his secrets with her. She was a dear friend, but he feared that she would not approve of his lessons with Christine.
Ooh, look an update as promised. I saw Beauty adn the Beast last night (musical) and it was amazing! I loved it so much and I want to see it again...but back on track. Thank you Mouse for the review and look, now you know what happened! Well read and review, emphasize on the review part of that since you are obviously reading.
