A/N: As always, thanks to my beta, Le Chat Noir.
Episode 49: Need
By: Elektra
Nadir Khan's Apartment
"Was that Erik?" Madeline asked as Nadir cradled the phone.
"Yes. With some rather disturbing news."
Madeline grew concerned. "Is everything ok?" she asked.
"I suppose... but the Giry girl received a rather unfortunate gift from her secret admirer," Nadir explained before Madeline could ask. "She returned home to find that someone had trespassed into her room, and a human heart left for her." He shuddered at the thought. "Apparently, that is a new way to win a lady's favour."
"Oh, that poor girl!" Madeline replied. "I don't know what would be more disturbing - the present that was left, or the fact he got in there in the first place."
Christine and Meg's apartment
"Grab your stuff," Raoul insisted once Erik finished his phone call. "We're going to MY place. If that freak can get in here, we're getting out!"
He grasped Meg's hand, squeezing gently. "Are you ok?" She released a shaky breath and nodded, then pressed her face against his shoulder. He absently slid an arm around her.
"Pack quickly. If you forget something, I will come back - alone - to get it for you," Erik added.
"But... the workshop... we... we can't-" Christine shook her head, still unnerved from the events of ten minutes ago.
"DeChagny and I will get you there and back every day," Erik offered. The two men glanced at each other, a silent understanding between them.
Unfortunately, it was quickly replaced with the usual loathing when Raoul realized Erik had no intention of leaving Christine unaccompanied at the DeChagny Mansion.
Raoul sighed quietly. It would be hard enough to talk Philip into letting the girls stay. The fact that Erik would be staying as well would make it near impossible.
Outside 1321 TownCircle Dr. (45 minutes later)
Adam watched with confusion as Raoul and Meg, suitcase in hand, left the building.
She looks as if she's going away, Adam thought with a frown. He had been hoping to see his swan's reaction to his present, expecting her to realize the depth of his feelings - and yet, she did not look happy.
Adam had not recalled overhearing any talk of a vacation. Did she not still have her classes at the Populaire?
And why, of all things, was she with THAT man? What did Adam have to do to get the girl to notice him? If not DeChagny, then his brother's lover was at her side. Because of that, he had not been able to approach her in person, to tell her he was her secret admirer.
Adam grew angry. If the dreams would not keep these people away from his swan, perhaps he would have to rid the girl of them himself.
DeChagny Residence – An hour later
"You ladies will be staying in the guest wing," Raoul began as he led Christine and Meg on a tour of the DeChagny Mansion. He wanted the two comfortable enough to walk around without feeling out of place.
Raoul knew Erik was wandering somewhere, on his own private tour, and had given up trying to keep track of him. It was a little unnerving to know that Erik could not only sneak into the mansion undetected, but could lurk in the shadows leaving no one the wiser.
"This place is huge!" Christine replied. "I've been here so many times, but I've still never seen the whole thing."
"I hope you girls make yourselves cozy. This part of the building hasn't been used in… well… a long time." Raoul offered a sheepish smile. "So if there's anything you need that's not here, just ask." He glanced over at Meg, "And just so you know, I've increased security outside the house. No one should be able to get in without being noticed."
Meg hugged herself. "Erik did."
Raoul frowned. "Erik is… Erik. He doesn't count. And besides, if anyone DOES get in, he'll know."
"You have such faith in me, DeChagny. I'm touched," a voice spoke from a darkened corner of the hall. Erik slid out of the shadows and offered a mock bow.
Raoul crossed his arms, unimpressed. "I wasn't complementing you. I just figured you had some kind of 'freak' radar. Birds of a feather and all."
Erik moved behind Christine and put his hands on her shoulders, stage whispering into her ear. "He is so very shy about his feelings, isn't he?"
He then turned to Meg, growing serious. "The boy does have a point, though, Little Giry. Should someone get past the men out front, I will stop them from getting to you."
Meg nodded, knowing Erik would keep that promise.
Opera Populaire – the next day
Erik brought his bike to a stop and turned around in his seat to face Christine. "I will be around, as usual, but you will not likely see me."
"Yeah… that's been happening a lot." Christine answered with a sad smile. "But as long as Meg is safe, it's all good."
He held a hand out to her. "Come now. I'll see you in, then I will disappear. No doubt DeChagny has already brought Little Giry." He slid off the bike and assisted Christine off before leading her inside.
Erik would not let her hand go until they arrived at the dance studio. Though he knew
Christine was not the one in danger, he did not want to allow her out of his sight more than he had to. Christine's nightmares were evidence that Meg's admirer was not above going after her friends.
"Class is cancelled. Our accompanist is sick today," Giselle said as Christine walked through the door.
Christine glanced around to see the other students gathering their bags. She turned to Erik and smirked. "Erik is an accompanist."
Before Erik could protest, Christine leaned towards him and lowered her voice. "It'll be easier for you to keep an eye on us this way." She waved to Meg, who came towards them.
Giselle studied Erik - or more specifically, his mask - suspiciously. "And who are you?"
"My bodyguard," Meg said quickly, knowing Giselle had been appraised of the danger the girl faced. "And one hell of a pianist. You won't be disappointed, ma'am."
Giselle was not quite convinced, but shrugged anyway. "Go ahead then. Might as well get SOMETHING done today."
"No!" Sorelli protested from a few feet away. "No no NO! He'll play well for his favourites, but he'll screw the rest of us over!"
Erik glanced at her unaffected. "Perhaps you just have trouble keeping up. If I recall correctly, only you and your friend, Jammes, had issue with me at the ICDF Convention."
Giselle looked over at him. "That was you with the Ravelle students then?" she asked. "I heard about an accompanist named Erik. All good things, of course," she clarified.
"I'd been hoping to see you for myself, but time didn't permit." She then smiled. "Now that you're here, though, I'd love to hear what they were raving about." She gestured towards the piano. "Would you mind?"
He nodded politely. "Not at all." He shrugged off his duster and placed it neatly on a chair, then slid onto the piano bench.
Giselle subtly ran her eyes over him as she moved to stand by the piano. How could she have missed the description her colleagues had given her? Tall and mysterious, with hands that were far too sensual for their own good. She watched almost hypnotized as his long slender fingers danced over the keys.
As the class continued, Giselle found Erik lived up to all that had been said about him and thought of making him the permanent replacement for the usual accompanist.
She wondered briefly how old the man was. Perhaps only a few years more than her own 28. An excellent musical talent, and a bodyguard in his spare time? Giselle found that incredibly fascinating.
She glanced back over her class and frowned as she found Christine smiling at the man. Surely the uncoordinated girl didn't have a crush on Meg Giry's bodyguard?
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. With an impatient sigh, the ballet mistress went to the door and opened it to reveal Firmin, who seemed to be shifting nervously from one foot to the next.
"Yes, sir?" Giselle asked.
"I was wondering if Miss Christine Daaé was here?"
"Yes, she is," Giselle started. "But we're in the middle of a class."
"Forgive me," Firmin replied. "But André and myself are in desperate need of her at the moment." He glanced around the room, nodded politely to Erik, then saw Christine off in the corner stretching. "Miss Daaé?" he said as he stepped inside, motioning for her to come over.
"Stop!" Giselle commanded Firmin. "There are NO street shoes on the marley, sir!"
Firmin looked at Giselle, and quickly apologized, removing his shoes at the door and motioning Christine over to the side so as not to disturb the rest of the class.
"Yes sir?" Christine began hesitantly.
Firmin smiled down at her. "We were told you were familiar with the role Carlotta was performing, yes?"
Christine nodded. "Y-yes, sir. I know the part."
"Good good!" Firmin seemed greatly relieved. "Come with me." He started to walk out but noticed Christine wasn't following.
"I… I'm sorry, sir. What is it you need?"
"Oh, of course!" Firmin realized. "Well, Miss Daaé, it seems we are in quite a bind. Carlotta has refused to return. André and I were thinking that perhaps YOU may temporary fill the role until we find someone permanent."
Christine was speechless for a moment. "But… I… I'm not nearly as good as-"
"You have a beautiful voice, and an excellent stage presence," Erik spoke up from behind the piano. He had been listening intently to the conversation. "They would be in your debt."
Christine glanced at him, then towards Giselle, who simply shrugged arrogantly. Meg, on the other hand, was smiling and shooing her towards the door silently from the other side of the room.
Christine swallowed nervously, and followed Firmin out.
Guest Wing – That night
Erik walked down the hall keeping his eyes and ears open for anything that may be amiss. A voice suddenly reached his ears from the far room.
"No… please… don't leave! Come back!"
"Christine?" Erik called out as he ran to the door and burst into her room. "What's wrong?" He looked upon her with concern as she kicked her blankets off during her fitful sleep.
"Don't leave! Please… I don't wanna be alone!" she cried, reaching out into thin air for something she was trying to keep.
He walked into the room and sat on the bed beside her. "Christine, wake up," he insisted. "You're dreaming, angel."
"Don't leave me! Meggy! Erik! I'm sorry. I… I never meant to cling. Please…" she begged.
Christine's fingers suddenly clutched at Erik's mask, tugging desperately as if he was going to disappear. "Please come back!" The mask fluttered to the floor, but that was the least of his concerns.
The last time Erik had snapped someone out of a night terror, it had been DeChagny – and his fist had met the boy's perfect chin.
He was not about to use that tactic with Christine.
Erik quickly grasped her wrists and pinned them above her head to prevent any further flailing. "You need to wake up, Christine. The dream is not real!"
"Don't go… don't hate me…" she whimpered.
"I am not going anywhere, and I could never hate you," he pressed his skeletal cheek against her soft one, his voice taking on an almost hypnotic tone. "Open your eyes now, Christine," he commanded softly. "Your Erik is here."
"My… Erik…?" he heard her whisper.
He raised his head and met her bright blue eyes. "Yes, angel. Are you ok now?" he asked.
She nodded. "I… I couldn't wake up. I tried… and then I heard you… my Erik." Christine tilted her head and met his mouth with her own. He closed his eyes, enjoying how wonderful it was to kiss her like this, to feel her lips part beneath his.
"Stay?" she asked as her kisses grew quick and heated. "Stay with me tonight. All night… "
Over a month with barely any physical contact, he could not help but respond to her encouragement. He gently pressed himself full atop her, allowing his hands to travel over her petite form. Oh… sweet Christine…
The sounds of two maids walking down the hall outside the door reminded Erik of where they were – and why they were there.
He quickly broke the kiss, noticeably breathless and highly regretful. "I… have to keep guard."
Christine nodded. "Right. Right, I'm sorry. It's just…" She squirmed beneath him, unintentionally pulling a strange sound from his throat, and her breath caught. She rather liked it when Erik growled in response to her. It had happened many a time.
"Christine…" he hissed through clenched teeth as she moved again, his golden depths darkening to reveal an almost primal predatory need.
Was it wrong that such a look suddenly inspired an ache that made her blush?
"I don't suppose you could spare a few minutes off guard-duty?" she asked shakily.
Erik pushed himself off her. "We have not been alone in a month, angel. We would need the whole night." He looked away quickly. "And perhaps the following day…" he added under his breath.
Christine immediately stopped her imagination from running wild.
Erik got to his feet reluctantly and picked his mask up from the floor. "Forgive me, I must return to lurking in the shadows. Such is my life." He slipped the material over his face once again "Though I imagine Little Giry would rather I NOT be lurking when she wants to be alonewith DeChagny. She acts like a giggling schoolgirl with a crush."
Christine laughed softly. "She is." She then grew serious. "I'm glad you're taking Meg's safety so seriously… I just-" She stopped, not wanting to give voice to her thoughts. Christine could not help but feel a little neglected. Perhaps it was selfish, but it HAD been over a month. I have needs too.
"Goodnight, angel," Erik spoke up, startling Christine from her thoughts.
"Goodnight Erik. Sweet dreams."
Erik stopped at the doorway without turning and glanced over his shoulder. "It is only because I promised Antoinette-"
"I know." Christine interrupted gently. "I just hope it doesn't last another month."
Erik nodded but could not avoid his silent musing: I do not think my sanity will survive if it DOES.
He then quietly left the room and disappeared into the darkness.
Laramie Drive (the next day)
"Where IS she?" Adam cried out desperately as he clutched Sytri's shoulder. "She disappeared with the rich boy a week ago! Where did he take her! What did he DO to her?" he demanded.
He let go of Sytri and paced desperately back and forth. "I need to see her. I HAVE to see her! But the only time I lay eyes upon my swan is at the Populaire… and my brother is always with her!" He tugged at his hair, pulling out several strands. "I need to get her alone. We need… need to be alone!"
Martine watched with a calm detachment as Adam ranted and raved, Sytri smirking at the boy as if he was highly amused. It was obvious to anyone with a brain where DeChagny would have taken Meg Giry.
But Adam was not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer. He needed to be TOLD everything, as logic seemed an alien subject to him.
She sighed to herself. Sometimes fools had to figure things out on their own. Surely she would be cheating the boy if she made such a thing so easy for him. "Where, of all places, do you think DeChagny would take the girl?" she asked simply. "She is still in town, so she cannot be THAT far." Think, you sadistic moron! She frowned.
Adam wasn't listening, however. "I will sneak into the Populaire!" he decided instead. "Yes… that is what I will do. It is a good plan. Perhaps I will catch her when she least expects it… yes… perhaps…" he continued muttering plans to himself as he walked down the hall and into his room.
With a deep breath, Martine turned to Sytri. "Your choice of a replacement son is sadly lacking."
DeChagny Residence – Attic (the next night)
Erik stared out the window of the large attic as he sat on a rickety wooden trunk. He had cleaned the dust and cobwebs from the glass to allow him a full view of the grounds outside, now bathed in darkness save for the lawn lights.
Erik took a deep breath as he ran a hand through his ebony hair. The police won't be able to stop him, he concluded of Meg's admirer.
He had gotten word from Nadir that the body of a young girl had been found horribly mutilated and missing its heart.
She bore a passing resemblance to Megan Giry.
He had kept the information to himself. It was not something Meg nor Christine, nor Antoinette for that matter, needed to know.
DNA evidence had been left on the girl's person, and a name had been linked to it. Adam Lawren. A boy who had been in and out of Juvenile Hall several times as a child and had disappeared in the system once he reached the age of 18.
Far too much like Erik's own history.
Erik could not help but imagine what would have happened if Christine had not returned his affections. Would he have been driven to do what Adam had done? The fact Meg had not even SEEN the boy in question did not matter. In Adam's mind, she should be his regardless.
There, but for the grace of god, go I…and I do not even believe in god.
Erik had recognized the look in the boy's eyes the night he felt the rope around his neck. It was the same look he saw in the mirror every time he executed – no, KILLED.
I am just like him. I am a murderer. No pretending to be anything different. I was not forced into being the guild's executioner, I agreed to it.
The promise he had made would eventually end in the boy's death. A death he would not hesitate to bring about.
That was what he did.
I am the Angel of Death.
"Erik?" Erik was startled out of his introspection by Christine's hesitant call. "Hello?" She slowly peeked around the corner and smiled when she saw him. "One of the maids said you came up here. I got worried when I didn't see you at dinner. There's still some stuff left over. We can sneak into the kitchen and warm it up."
"I contented myself with a Big Mac and fries," he answered as Christine came to kneel on the floor in front of him. She made a face, unimpressed with his choice of meal.
"At least come watch movies with us?" she asked as she entwined her fingers with his. "Raoul has this huge entertainment room. Big screen, surround sound… everything!"
"No, thank you. I would rather just sit here for a while longer."
Christine furrowed her brow and rested her hands on his thighs. "What's wrong?"
What could he say to her? "I've been thinking of the best way to kill Little Giry's secret admirer…"? Somehow he did not believe that would sit well.
He reached out and brushed a curly golden lock off her forehead. "I am just in one of my dark moods, beloved."
She moved between his knees and slid her arms around him, tilting her head up to brush her lips against his. Erik closed his eyes, savouring the moment. Sweet Christine… if only my dismal thoughts could be cured with your kiss.
Unfortunately, the beauty would never turn her beast into a gentle prince.
But her tender affections certainly did help.
END OF EPISODE 49
Extra A/N: Check out ElavielEvenstar's E:TVH manips. They're wonderful: http// www. freewebs. com / elavielevenstar / etvh .htm (take out the spaces)