Erik: the Vampire Hunter
Episode 7: Different
15 years ago
She knelt beside her husband, his body unmoving, his clothing stained with his own blood. She was in shock. Yes, Hunters were known to fall in battle, but she never thought, never dreamed, that her own husband would be one of them. She could not stop the tears streaming down her face.
Meg! Her precious little Meg would be without a father now! And she wouldn't even be allowed to know the truth of it – that he had died bravely, giving his life to save her mother.
So distraught was Antoinette that she didn't see her enemy come up behind her until it was too late. Her weapon had rolled away. Too far to reach it now. Antoinette cried out, covering her head with her hands as she waited for the final deathblow.
It never came.
She lifted her eyes to see a tall boy, no more then a teenager, standing before her. He held a stake out, as if he had just impaled something before him. The child wore a mask of black leather, and had coldness in his eyes that she never knew a young child capable of.
He clutched the stake tightly, his knuckles growing white. His eyes shifted to the pile of dust at his feet, "He's gone now," he said softly, "There are no more,"
Antoinette swallowed, finally finding her voice, "How… how do you know?" she asked.
He met her eyes, the coldness she had seen earlier replaced with gentle warmth, "I don't sense anything," he replied simply.
Antoinette spoke shakily, "You sense them?"
The boy nodded, "Always," he held his free hand out to her, "Are you ok?" he asked.
"You knew!" Antoinette gasped, "You knew how to kill it!"
He nodded once again, "I've killed a few of them."
Antoinette accepted his outstretched hand and he helped her to his feet, his grip stronger than any young boy's should be, "Please…" she began, nodding towards the stake in his hands, "Give that to me now,"
He ran his graceful fingers over the sharpened wood, "This one is mine. Yours is over there,"
She turned to see the stake she had lost earlier still in the same place, "Why do you have one of those?" she asked.
"I needed it," he answered.
She reached up to grasp his shoulders, "Where are your parents?" she demanded, assuming they must be Hunters. They had no right to bring a child into the fold! The Hunter's Guild did not want anyone under the age of 18 to be compromised.
"No one wanted me" a pause, then he continued, "Especially after what happened to… HER," his sad golden eyes looked to the ground. He shrugged lightly, "I ran away,"
Antoinette didn't ask him to continue. "Where did you get that weapon?" she queried gently.
"I made it a few years ago. I sometimes run into those… THINGS. But I get them first," he offered a small smile, "I always get them first…"
Antoinette studied him for a moment, seeing far more than the boy realized, "What's your name?"
"Erik," he answered.
She nodded, "Erik… come with me…"
Dean Giry's Office – Present day
Giry cradled the phone, a frown on her thin lips. She had not been able to find out any information about Mageaik's "daddy". The Guild did not know why one of them would be looking for Christine a simple College girl who's only tie to the Guild was her odd friendship with Erik. The Hunter's Guild was not happy about the fact Erik had even made such a friend. He was their best Hunter. To have him compromised was, quite possibly, the worst thing that could happen.
Giry jumped as her personal cell phone rang. She quickly picked it up, "Yes?"
"Moma?" came Meg's voice, "Have you seen Christine? She didn't come home last night,"
Antoinette Giry froze. She had a pretty good idea where Christine may be, "I'm sure she'll be along, Meg. Perhaps she's with Raoul?"
"No, he was looking for her too," Meg replied, then let out a soft sigh, "Maybe she spent the night at a friend's place and just forgot her cell. I went out after Raoul called, so I could have missed her,"
"Yes. That's quite possible," Giry replied, "I'm sure Christine is quite safe, Meg. You need not worry,"
"If you say so, Moma. I'll talk to you later then,"
"Good-bye, Meg," she said, and disconnected the call. She closed her eyes and massaged her temples, feeling a headache coming on, "Oh Erik," she muttered quietly, "What have you done with the girl?"
Erik's room
Christine slowly opened her eyes only to be greeted by darkness.
It took her a few moments of sleep-induced haze before she remembered what had happened. She had kept Erik company despite his insistence that he return her to her dorm.
She had been concerned about him. About the secret he had revealed to her, about his state of mind after dealing with Laura. She didn't want to leave him alone until she was sure he'd be ok.
She really hadn't meant to fall asleep, but he had offered to read one of his over-sized books to her. She couldn't remember the title, but his smooth silky voice had ended up lulling her off to dreamland.
Christine shifted her position and called out into the darkness, "Erik?" she whispered softly. She heard nothing as she slowly found the edge of the bed and slid off. On her hands and knees, she searched blindly, getting a little nervous now. Had he just left her in this dark dank room alone?
She reached out in front of her, crawling along the ground until her hand fell upon the open book. She noted that it was rising and falling with the sound of slow deep breathing. She pushed the book away, feeling guilty that Erik had resigned himself to the hard ground and left her the bed.
Such a gentleman was rare nowadays. Raoul probably would have shared the bed with her. She frowned in the darkness - knowing Raoul, he would try and share other things as well.
Checking to see if Erik's wound had opened up and bled through his clothing, Christine's fingers found only smooth warm skin instead of a shirt. She blushed as she became acutely aware of him.
She quickly found the rough stitching of his wound. The gauze was gone, and everything seemed in order. He was very good at tending his outer wounds. A shame he had no one to help him tend the inner ones.
"Erik?" she spoke again.
Instead of an answer, he spoke, "A hug," he muttered, his voice thick with sleep, "I only want a hug…"
"What?" she asked, then realized he was dreaming. Erik was still very much asleep, and seemed to be having a conversation with someone.
"Don't!" Erik suddenly cried out, his fingers reaching out and digging into Christine's shoulders fiercely, "Please! Don't hit me again, Momma!"
"Hit you?" Christine was alarmed. "Momma?" What type of dream was this? Erik seemed lost in a nightmare... or perhaps a memory, his body twitching, his fingers tightening on her shoulders. "Wake up, Erik, please! Your mother isn't here!" her words weren't helping, "Erik, wake up!" she tried to shake him awake, but to no avail. He only gripped her tighter.
"I'm not a demon, momma!" he shouted, "Don't make me wear the mask again! I can't breathe… I can't… please… please take it off!"
Christine quickly reached out and slid the mask from his face, "It's off, Erik, ok? It's off…" she assured him as she placed a hand to his cheek.
She gasped quietly as her fingers felt the skeletal bones beneath the soft skin, then closed her eyes and scolded herself. It was only a face, after all. A shocking face, but a face all the same. One could get used to it... given time.
Had Erik really been called a demon? Christine remembered with irony the old saying a face only a mother could love. Judging from Erik's current dream, he had a face his mother couldn't love.
Erik's fingers pressed harder into Christine's shoulders, causing the brunette to let out a painful cry. How strong was he? "Wake up, Erik! Please? You're hurting me!" Christine.
His grip on her grew gentler, "Miss Daaé?"
"Yes, it's me," she said, but instead of a reply from him, she felt his long graceful fingers slide from her shoulder, up her neck, and to her cheek, gently tracing their way down her jaw. She closed her eyes and swallowed nervously, frightened by his informal touch.
"Christine?" Erik asked, using her name for the first time in a long while as his fingers outlined her lips. Christine found her pulse quicken at the chaste touch.
As if suddenly realizing what he was doing, Erik immediately let go of her, "Forgive me," he replied, "I was asleep. I didn't mean to-"
"It's ok, Erik," she interrupted , both disappointed and relieved as he pulled his hand back, "No harm done."
His voice grew calmer, more formal, "Why are you still here, Christine? I thought you'd have found your way back to your room by now,"
"I... was still worried about you, " Christine replied as she bravely ran her fingers over his bared visage once more, familiarizing herself with his distorted features, his normal mouth...
"My mask!" he cried out as he realized her hand was touching the bare flesh of his face. He grabbed Christine's wrist and roughly shoved her away, "Why! Why did you take it off?" His voice was filled with raw anger.
"You were having a nightmare!" she replied "You said you couldn't breathe!" his anxious reaction to her well meant intentions miffed her. Did he think she had meant him harm?
"NO!" he cried out, pushing himself to his feet, "Where is it? Where? What did you do with it?" he demanded, "NO one touches my mask. NO ONE! Damn you, Christine!"
"Erik... I... I'm sorry! Here..." Christine quickly lifted the mask from the ground where she had placed it, holding it out with a shaking hand, "Take it!"
Any odd sensations he had provoked in her moments ago were now replaced with fear. She did not want to feel this man's wrath.
There was a sudden knock at the door, and Erik ripped the mask from her hands. A few seconds later, he turned on a nearby lamp, his face covered once more.
Erik glared at Christine, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched with a barely restrained fury. A complete 180 from his earlier tenderness, "NEVER touch my mask again!" he hissed, but before Christine could respond, he yanked the door open, "WHAT!" he demanded.
"Erik?" A startled Dean Giry stood before him, stepping back from his rather volatile greeting, "I'm looking for Christine."
"Get her away from me!" he demanded as he made room for the older woman to walk in, "Now!"
Giry stepped into the room, only to see Christine sitting on the floor, her t-shirt and jeans rumpled from sleep, hugging herself as she nervously studied the man before her.
"Christine?" Giry started, "Meg was asking about you…"
Christine looked up at the older woman, "Dean Giry? How did you know I was-" she stopped.
Erik had mentioned only a few others knew of his whereabouts. It seemed the elder Giry was quite aware of the campus ghost after all. Christine just shook her head and grabbed her sneakers from the other side of the room, tugging them on quickly.
She jumped to her feet and went up to Erik, her fear now replaced with anger, "If you're quite done yelling at me," she began, "I'll be spending the day with Raoul. Though under the circumstances, I'm sure you…" she poked ineffectively at his chest, "...will be glad to have me gone!" she then turned on her heel and marched out of the room, waiting impatiently for Giry down the hall.
Giry looked up at Erik for a moment, and heard him swear under his breath. He quickly turned his back to Giry, his voice strained, "Please close the door behind you, Antoinette. Thank you."
"Erik," she began softly, "Was there any call for your behaviour just now?"
He shook his head, the guilt clear in his voice, "Just a fool's paranoia, Antoinette," his voice then became a whisper, "An incredible fool,"
Perault and Ardene – dusk
Erik brooded silently as he replayed the morning's events in his head. He knew he should have held his temper in check, but feeling her gentle hand on his corpse's face had made him feel vulnerable. Something he had vowed never to feel again.
Is it any wonder he had grown angry? The girl should have known better then to touch his mask.
Erik stopped walking when he noticed his current location. He was in an alley behind a restaurant. Two dumpsters lined the wall, and an oil pan sat atop one of them, waiting for proper disposal. Just as the guild had described. The scouts had reported two quarry here.
The scouts, however, were wrong. He could sense his quarry in the vicinity, and there were five, not two.
Powerful arms suddenly grabbed him from behind, catching him off guard. He broke the hold, and used his leg to trip his attacker up, then took the moment to pull out his weapon and impale It. He saw another rushing at him and swung his arm with efficient ruthlessness. Number 2 was turned to dust as well.
He was feeling better already...
The third tried Its attack next, and Erik sent It to Its knees with a sweeping kick, and then elbowed the fourth attempting to sneak up behind him. The fifth was lunging towards him, and Erik quickly jumped atop a nearby dumpster, kicking the filled oil pan in It's face. It cried out, trying to rub the burning liquid from Its eyes.
He didn't move his body fast enough to avoid the grasp of 3 and 4, who had since recovered. One of them pulled him down from his perch and held him, his head snapping back in response to the other one's violent punch.
For a moment, Erik found the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. He saw the next punch coming and lunged to the side, causing the 3rd creature to hit his kindred instead.
Erik broke free from the fourth and whirled on It, a coiled length of rope whipping out and wrapping around It's throat. With a hard yank of his arm, he heard the gratifying snap of a neck. One graceful swipe of his stake finished the job.
The third – the one who had punched him – stood rigid before him. Erik calmly wiped the blood from his mouth, his adrenaline racing, "You're going to ruin my good-looks," he hissed coldly, then slammed the stake through Its torso, a cold smile playing on his lips.
"Four down, one to go," Erik said as he saw the final one standing a few feet away, looking rather shocked that Its companions were gone. It turned to run, and Erik hurled the stake towards It like he was tossing a dart.
Bullseye.
He picked his stake from the new pile of dust and stood in the middle of the empty alley, catching his breath. The successful destruction of his quarry always filled him with a cold rush of delight.
Erik was then cruelly reminded that Christine's recurring presence was slowly starting to fill him with a warmer one...
Meg and Christine's dorm room – an hour later
Erik looked up upon hearing the surprised cry of Megan Giry coming through the door. He had made himself comfortable on Christine's bed once again, hoping to catch his student before she turned in for the night. He found her bed rather comfortable, her scent saturating the pillows he now rested his own head on. Apples. Always apples, he thought.
"I don't suppose Christine is with you, Little Giry?" Erik asked as he propped himself up on his elbows.
Meg swallowed the lump in her throat, "Um, no… she's still with Raoul." She saw something in his hand, "What is that?"
He held up a thorn-less red rose, twisting it between his fingers, "I upset her earlier. I was planning to apologize,"
"By sneaking into our room and invading our privacy?" she asked.
Erik shrugged as if he saw nothing wrong with that, "She turned her cell phone off."
"Yeah, she does that a lot," Meg replied.
"Where is she, Little Giry?" he spoke politely enough, but Meg knew it was an order.
"What are you going to do if I tell you?" she asked nervously.
"Steal her away from the pretty boy kicking and screaming, and drag her down to my underground lair to make her my eternal bride," he replied coldly, then noticed Meg's horrified expression, "I am being sarcastic, of course."
Meg blinked a few times, then immediately felt like an idiot, "Right..." she said quickly, "Um... well..." she cleared her throat, "Listen, I have an essay to write... so... uh... I'll tell Christine you were looking for her," she went to the door and held it open for him.
Erik simply stared at her, his golden eyes betraying no emotion, "Well, I might as well just stay here and wait for her then," he replied calmly.
"You... you can't," Meg stammered.
"Oh, I most definitely can, Little Giry. I don't want to take the chance and miss her, you understand..."
Meg looked away, "Listen, I don't know exactly what happened, but she told me she was mad at you. She... she won't want to see you,"
"No one ever does. That doesn't stop me from seeking them out," Erik replied.
He lay back on Christine's bed and made himself comfortable once again, resting his hands behind his head. With a resigned sigh, Meg went to her desk and attempted to go through her books.
She was doing well... until she heard her mother's voice in her head, "Megan Giry! You call that a Pointé? Look at your position! Turn your leg more! Align your foot!"
Meg spun around only to see Erik still lounging comfortably. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "Did you do that?"
"Hmm? Do what?" he asked innocently.
"I just heard... heard my mother's voice..."
"Do I sound like your Mother, Little Giry?" he frowned. "It must have been your imagination,"
Meg shook her head, muttering to herself before turning back to her books... only to hear her mother's voice again, "Don't slump, Megan! I taught you better posture than that!"
Meg jumped to her feet, "Okay, now that was not my imagination!" She pointed a shaking finger at him, "You're making me hear things! Christine told me you did that to her once!"
"Now how could I possibly make you hear things?" he asked.
"The same way you were able to snap Christine out of her trance when we went to see that hypnotist!" Meg accused, "You... can do things like that!"
Erik dismissed her with a wave of his hand, "Go back to your essay, girl,"
"How can I when you keep distracting me?" she placed her hands on her hips, and turned back to her desk, "Fine! Here!" she ripped a page out of her notebook and scribbled something down, "Christine is at Chez Léon. Go and haunt her!"
He chuckled coldly, "Well, aren't you helpful tonight, Little Giry..." Erik stood up and bowed politely, taking the paper from her, "I appreciate your cooperation." He said no more as he walked out the door.
Meg sat back down and buried her head in her hands, "Crap... Christine is gonna kill me..."
Chez Léon
Christine delicately smoothed the napkin over her lap. She was wearing the ever popular little black dress, and didn't want it to be ruined by the dessert her and Raoul waited for. She smiled up at him, thinking him rather dashing in his smoky Armani suit. She was surprised he had chosen such an expensive restaurant though. She would have been just as happy with McDonalds.
"Did you enjoy the meal, Christine?" he asked.
"Oh yes. Very much! Thank you," she replied. He smiled at her response. He was so handsome when he smiled.
"You're quite welcome," he said, "More wine?" he held up the bottle.
"Raoul," she began nervously, "I'm getting a little tipsy, and… well, if they find out my age…"
"Too late to worry about your age now," he winked. When the waiter had come to take their order, he had not bothered to check Christine's ID. After all, the DeChagny's were well known, and if the youngest son was willing to spend one-hundred dollars on a bottle of wine, so be it.
"You can't wear a mask in here!" cried a harried voice from the front of the restaurant, "We have a dress code, sir!"
"Forgive me, sir," came the overly polite, yet harsh reply, "but I will only be a minute, then I'll disperse from your fine establishment."
Christine froze, "No… no no no…" she placed her head in her hands. Why? What right did he have to—
"Christine?" the voice addressed her. She took a deep breath, then looked up, eyes filled with outright indignation. How dare he come barging in like this?
Before Christine could curse him for interrupting her date, the intruder crouched down beside her and held out a red rose, "An apology for my behaviour earlier,"
Christine's mouth dropped open as she hesitantly took the rose from his hand, fingers trailing over the smooth stem.
"Excuse me? Who are you and why are you giving a rose to my date?" Raoul demanded.
"Raoul, I presume?" Erik asked as he looked at the perfectly chiseled face of the young blond man sitting across from Christine. He remembered him from the Masquerade. The very sight of him made Erik seethe, "I've heard a bit about you," he studied the boy, a frown on his lips, "Can't say I'm overly impressed,"
"Erik!" Christine snapped.
Raoul furrowed his brow, "Erik?" he repeated.
"Um… yes. Raoul, this is... uh... this is Erik," she offered a weak smile as the man in question straightened up, making rather good use of his height.
Raoul studied the tall man dressed in black who now towered before him. The mask on his face stood out, despite his neat clothing. Was he trying to make some odd fashion statement? He certainly didn't belong among the diners at Chez Léon.
Raoul turned to Christine, "Erik - The bitter old man with bad rheumatism? The one you run errands for?" he looked up at Erik again, "I think your description leaves a lot to be desired."
Christine had no answer to that. How could she even begin to explain?
"Forgive me, Mr. DeChagny but I asked Miss Daaé to lie about my age and health as my clients may otherwise think me a bit eccentric," Erik answered
Christine was surprised to find him lying on her behalf.
"You see, there is a reason I conduct my business over phone, fax and email. I am very much a recluse and do not like making public appearances." Erik glanced around the restaurant, quite aware of the situation, "Case in point," he muttered. He met Christine's eyes for a moment, then turned back to Raoul, "I shall leave you to your beautiful companion."
With a polite bow, Erik then turned on his heel and left before security had a chance to throw him out.
Dean Giry's Office - The next day
"You wanted to see me, Antoinette?" Erik asked as he sat in the chair before her desk.
"Yes. Meg told me you crashed Christine's date last night,"
"Ah yes, your daughter was quite helpful. She drew a map to the restaurant herself, in fact,"
"… after you snuck into her dorm room and bothered her while she was trying to write an essay," Dean Giry pointed out.
"I wanted to apologize to Christine for my behaviour yesterday morning," he answered simply.
Giry was surprised at that. Erik was known for many things. Apologizing wasn't one of them.
"Speaking of which," she sighed and sat down across from him, "When I told you to keep an eye on Christine, I didn't mean that closely. What was the girl doing in your room?"
Erik knew he could no longer keep the events of the last few weeks a secret.
"Very well, Antoinette, I suppose you should know -I seem to be haunted by a ghost. A girl I knew many years ago. The victim of the incident that caused me to run away at fifteen,"
Giry looked at him, "Laura Ashton?" she asked, "Wasn't she in a coma?"
"She woke up. Though a little less alive then she had been,"
"I do hope you took the necessary precautions?" Giry asked. He glanced away, "Erik?" she waited, "Erik! Don't tell me you let her go!"
"I couldn't cause her death a second time, Antoinette," he spoke softly.
"You have no reason to feel guilt!"
"And yet, I do," he explained. "When Laura confronted me, I was talking with Christine. I told the girl to go, but she hid instead. She witnessed Laura removing my mask."
He met Giry's eyes, "At the Masquerade, young Miss Daaé also witnessed me destroying my quarry," he ignored Giry's sharp intake of breath. Erik then described the night in question, how Laura came back, how Christine was attacked, how his night job was fully revealed.
"She knows?" Giry exclaimed, "She knows everything?"
Erik shrugged, "Not about the Hunter's Guild… but about me, yes. She knows. She stayed to keep me company," he raised his eyes to Giry. "She was rather concerned for me, Antoinette. I do not recall anyone ever being concerned for me," a pause, "The girl even hugged me! Something my own mother couldn't even bring herself to do!"
Giry shook her head, "You were told to watch the girl, not get attached to her,"
"I consider her a friend, nothing more."
"Are you sure you'll want nothing more?" Giry accused, "You're still a man, Erik. And a man will desire more then friendship from a lovely young woman eventually. Especially a lonely man."
He began to grow angry, "I would never ask such a thing of her. Would you rather I remain friendless for the rest of my life?"
"It is better if you remain friendless, Erik," Giry insisted.
"WHY?" Erik demanded, eyes flashing, "WHY would it be better? Come now, tell me!" His voice grew hard and angry, "Tell me why I must be denied what everyone else takes for granted. Tell me why I must stay in the darkness killing vampires for the rest of my years!"
"Have you forgotten it's not just vampires you've killed?" Giry snapped.
Erik's voice grew calm again, "Yes, well, who gives me my assignments, Antoinette?"
"You're risking the entire Guild's presence by growing so close to this girl, Erik!"
He slammed his hands down on the desk, "And you are risking my wrath! Tell me, in your infinite wisdom, WHY I am not treated like any OTHER HUMAN!"
"Because you're NOT like any other human!" Giry replied angrily, then immediately regretted her words.
Erik's voice turned to ice, "Really now?" he asked, "Why would you SAY that, Madame?"
She quickly turned away, "Never mind, Erik. This isn't the time to-"
"OH but it is! I can't think of a BETTER time!" He was suddenly on the other side of the desk, grasping her shoulders tightly, forcing her to face him, "Why am I not like any other human?" he hissed.
She shook her head, unable to meet his eyes, "Please, Erik. I don't know all that much about it..." she took a shaky breath, "I just know that... that among all the Hunters ... there is always one chosen to... to handle the other threats,"
"You mean," Erik began coldly, "One who is different?"
Madame Giry nodded, "Yes, Erik..." she glanced away from him, "Now please, don't ask me any more,"
"You lead me to suspect the Guild knows why I am different, Antoinette..." his voice grew dark, his grip tightening, "I suggest you ask them!"
"Erik, let go of me!" she demanded.
There was such strength in the hands that squeezed her shoulders. Dangerous strength. Giry gasped as the tense moment was interrupted by the telephone.
Erik immediately let go of her, quickly coming to his senses. Giry took the moment of freedom and nervously grabbed the phone.
"Hello?" She waited a moment, then turned to Erik, "This is private, Erik. I'm sorry. But it's very important I take this call,"
"ASK him, Antoinette!" He commanded, knowing very well who was on the phone. "I want to know WHY! There is far more to this..." he indicated his mask, "...then merely an accident of birth!"
Giry took a deep breath and composed herself. She nodded in compliance, knowing better then to deny Erik this request. No, not a request. An order.
Although Giry was one of the few who could often carry on a normal conversation with the Guild's top Hunter, she had never been truly comfortable with him... or his volatile temper, "I'll try, Erik. Now please, I MUST take this call!"
"Very well... But I will not forget!" With an angry grunt, Erik spun on his heel and headed out of the office, slamming the door hard behind him.
Giry closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then turned back to the phone, "Sorry about that,"
"What's going on there, Ant?" came the male on the other side - Gus Leroux, head of the Hunter's Guild. "Was that Erik?"
"Yes," she said.
"What were you arguing about?" he asked.
"He... he wants to know why he's ... different. Why we ask him to do certain things we would never ask the other Hunters to do,"
"And why bring that up all of a sudden?" Leroux asked.
A pause, then, "He's starting to care a great deal for the girl he is watching, and wants to know why we are insisting he live in darkness for the rest of his life."
"Must I send another Hunter to watch the girl then?" Leroux threatened.
Giry took a deep breath, "I would not trust another Hunter to protect her as well as Erik could, but I cannot just flip a switch and force him to shut off his emotions."
"He's not allowed such emotions. You know that!"
"You seriously expect the man to live his entire life numb? To never feel anything?"
"He's not allowed distractions, Ant! We need him as he is!" Leroux insisted.
"You want to make him no better then his quarry!" Giry realized.
"Sacrifices must be made for the greater good. He's our best weapon!" Leroux explained.
"Weapon?" Giry sputtered, "He's not an object, Gus - He's a man,"
"Is that what you see when you look at him?" Leroux asked, "A man?"
Giry frowned, her patience wearing thin, "Yes, Gus. I see a man. A man who is finally feeling more then bitterness and self-loathing for once. If you believe otherwise, then perhaps it's time you told myself, Erik, and the other Hunters why. You at least owe us that much!"
A pause, then, "You don't need to know!"
"We have the right to know! WE are the ones who work with him! Are you putting us in harm's way, Gus?" she demanded, a hand automatically rubbing a sore shoulder.
"Of course not, Ant!" Gus snapped. Giry then heard him take a deep breath, gathering his thoughts.
When he spoke again, his voice was soft, but his words crashed around her like thunder, "But if Erik did know the truth, then yes - you, that girl, and everyone else most definitely WOULD be in harm's way!"
END OF EPISODE SEVEN