A/N: As always, thanks to my beta, Le Chat Noir, especially for the ballet stuff.
Episode 51: The Angel of Death
By: Elektra
Erik sat on the floor, his back against the wall as he watched Christine sleeping. Forgive me, angel… he thought silently. I never meant for Shay to see our private moments. He had no right!
Every inch of Christine's little form that Erik had so lovingly committed to memory, Shay now knew. Every touch and kiss and caress he had shared with her, Shay now shared. The intimate secrets that only HE should know about his beloved, Shay had found out.
Erik had felt the need to hit something. Repeatedly. If not for the fact ceramic tiles were painfully hard and would eventually break bones if one continued to punch them, there would have been a fist-sized hole in DeChagny's guest bathroom. He looked down at his bruised knuckles with a frown.
"Erik? What's wrong? You look more broody than usual." Erik glanced up to see Christine staring at him from her bed. "Why are you sitting there all by your lonesome?" She climbed off the bed and went up to Erik, crouching in front of him.
"Forgive me," he whispered softly, head hung in shame.
"For what?" Christine asked.
"For letting him… letting Shay see us."
She furrowed her brow. "Come again? Where did Shay come from and what did he see?"
Erik closed his eyes, and told her what had occurred the night before – the girl's kidnapping, breaking into Laramie Drive, and the subsequent mind invasion.
"So…" Christine gently took Erik's injured hand. "When Shay was taking a trip through your head what, exactly, did he find there?"
"Us," he answered. "Our intimacies."
"You mean, he saw your memories of… of when we-"
"Yes," Erik answered.
"Oh, wow. That… that's … embarrassing." She glanced away. "And here I thought Meg hearing us was bad."
Christine blushed as she remembered Meg's rather colourful description of Erik's voice after one such incident. Her friend had joked that he should be making audio recordings of smutty romance novels, as it would be a big seller for some rather lonely housewives – though not because the stories were any good.
"Shay violated your privacy, Christine. That is far worse than Little Giry accidentally overhearing us. I should have protected you better."
"It was your privacy too," Christine answered as she met Erik's eyes.
He shook his head. "My privacy matters little. It was YOU whom he wanted to see."
Christine brushed a lock of ebony hair off his masked forehead. "It's not your fault, Erik."
She then shuddered slightly. "I mean, not that it ISN'T incredibly disturbing to find out Shay knows all that stuff now. But as long as YOU'RE the one creating those memories with me, it's ok."
Christine wrapped her arms around Erik's shoulders and slid astride his lap, pressing her face against his neck and breathing in his scent. "Ooooh, you smell good. Did you just take a shower?"
"I did," he replied. He had almost rubbed his skin raw while he had fumed silently over what Shay had done - which had then led to the subsequent wall-punching.
"I don't suppose I could join you next time?" Christine asked as she felt Erik's arms come up around her.
"Ah, but that WOULD be distracting," he answered regretfully.
She pouted against his shoulder. "I don't know if I should be amazed by your willpower, or insulted by it."
"Neither," Erik replied as he gently trailed his fingers over the small of her back, her low-rise sleep shorts revealing the soft, tempting skin. "I learned long-ago how to push away my needs. I had believed them to be a cruel burden. After all, who would ever give me a chance to act on them?"
"But now…?" Christine asked.
"NOW, my sweet angel," Erik whispered as he slowly ran his hands over Christine's lovely form, "I need you."
Christine raised her head from his shoulder, and his lips immediately descended upon hers, trailing down to her neck before gently nipping the one spot that always made her shiver.
"You have no idea how much I need you," he breathed.
Christine closed her eyes and allowed her head to fall back, giving Erik's warm mouth access to her tender throat - and anything else he wanted.
"Why…" she gasped out as she slid his mask off. "Why are you tormenting me? You… you're only going to stop and be all Hunter-y after a few-" Her words were lost as he lowered her to the plush carpet, his tender kisses and gentle caresses travelling where they had not traveled in almost two months.
Christine's fingers sunk into his hair as she forced herself to speak again. "Please… Erik… don't start what you won't finish. You said you... you didn't want to get distracted…"
He slowly raised his head, his golden eyes darkening as his voice dropped to a growl. "Perhaps I need a distraction…"
"Oh thank God," Christine breathed, then pulled his mouth down once more as they proceeded to finish what they started.
Later
Erik slowly opened his eyes and saw the dawn sneaking in behind the shade. Christine was still sleeping; the look upon her face peaceful and satisfied.
He ran long thin fingers down her cheek and gently grasped her chin, tilting her head ever so slightly to brush his lips over hers. She sighed contentedly but did not wake.
"I love you…" he whispered against her ear, then carefully untangled himself from her and climbed to his feet.
He picked his clothing up from the floor and tugged it back on, then he offered one more look at Christine, kissed her cheek, and headed towards the door.
Sweet angel… he thought as he slid his mask back on this will all be over very very soon…
DeChagny Residence – Two nights later
"Chrissy!" Raoul called down the hall, stopping Christine in her tracks. She turned to face him, and saw he was highly annoyed. "Tell your freak of a boyfriend to stay OUT of my private bathroom!"
Christine frowned, arms crossed. "First, don't call Erik a freak in front of me. Second, what makes you think he was in there?"
"My after-shave!" Raoul pointed out. "I bought a new bottle the other day, and now it's disappeared."
"Erik has no use for after-shave," Christine explained, dismissing his accusation outright.
"Hey, he may be one ugly corpsey-looking bastard, but at least he's clean shaven," Raoul pointed out.
Christine bit her lip, wondering if Erik would care if she told Raoul WHY he was clean shaven. Well, it was better than having Raoul think Erik stole from him.
"Erik can't grow facial hair," she explained.
Raoul was taken aback, his annoyance giving way to surprise. "Are you serious?"
She nodded. "The only hair Erik has is his eyelashes and the hair on his head."
In fact, Erik's entire body was as smooth as the day he was born. And as unnatural as it may have been, she had found it peculiarly attractive.
Raoul seemed contemplative. "I'll take your word for it," he said. "I guess I'll ask around and see if anyone was wandering near my rooms. Maybe I just misplaced it or something. I'm sorry, Chrissy. I didn't mean to jump down your throat. Hell, it's not even YOU I have issues with."
"That's ok. Erik has issues with you too. I don't think he'd WANT anything of yours," she joked lightly.
Raoul let out a soft laugh. "Yeah, good point. I think I've just gotten overly paranoid with what's been going on lately."
"We all have," Christine replied with understanding. "Go check on Meggy when you get a chance. She'd appreciate the company."
Raoul nodded. "I'll do that right now. She seems to calm me when I get stressed out, too. I'll see you at supper?"
Christine responded in the affirmative, and the two parted ways. She couldn't help but smiling upon hearing Raoul speak about Meg. Maybe the illustrious Raoul DeChagny was starting to see the ballet teacher's daughter as more than a friend after all.
Laramie Drive – the next day
Adam patted his face with Raoul DeChagny's after-shave. Surely Meg would appreciate the unique scent.
He had noticed a lack of security around the mansion last afternoon when his beloved swan wasn't there, and had used it to his advantage.
Unfortunately, with his older brother lurking about the house in the evenings, and the increased security, Adam had to make himself scarce before she had returned from her classes at the Populaire.
At this rate, he would never get close to Meg.
Every night she practiced in the dance studio, he would be unable to approach her because she would always be with Christine or Raoul.
But now… now he found himself so very desperate for his swan that he would deal with those two if need be.
No more hiding. I WILL reveal myself to her this evening. If her friends get in the way, I will take care of them.
With that goal firmly in his mind, Adam headed out to the Populaire.
Populaire Dance Studio
Meg stepped into the rosin box and ground the dust onto her pointe shoes. She tapped off the excess and walked to the corner of the room.
"Are you ready?" Christine asked, her finger on the PLAY button.
Sighing and rolling her shoulders, Meg smirked. "Better to tackle my impossibly difficult solo then to worry about my disgusting stalker." She readied herself. "Let's do this."
Christine sat on the stool in the corner as Meg pushed her way through the piece from Donizetti Variations. The Balanchine choreography wasn't really that challenging for Meg on a normal day, but these days were anything but normal, and Christine worried as Meg repeatedly fell off of pointe. Finally, Meg stopped, put her hands on her hips, and gestured angrily for Christine to cut the music.
"It started off good," Christine offered.
"Give me a break. I was off my leg from '5,6,7,8'." Meg tilted her neck side to side.
"You're too hard on yourself. You should be home resting after a long day of class and rehearsal."
"Rest doesn't promote you." Meg wiped a hand over her forehead and adjusted her leotard straps. "Rest lets me think."
"I understand. But really, I know you can do this variation. You're tailor-made for this sort of piece."
"Well…" Meg paused, and walked over to the corner where her bag and water bottle was stashed. "Thanks. I just wanted to work on my interpretation. I feel—I normally feel—really solid with the technique. It's the nuances. The stuff they don't bother working on at this stage of the game."
"Exactly!" Christine leapt to her feet and went to stand near Meg. "You get to a certain point and there's no one coaching you on the 'little' things, which aren't little at all!"
Meg smiled. "Well, you have Erik to help you with all that. Giselle isn't going to haunt my vents and whisper genius hints in my ear."
"Your mother could help."
"I'd rather do this on my own," Meg admitted. "My mother's a wonderful teacher and a great coach, but I need to find this in myself. I need to learn how to project and transform these steps into something captivating on my own. Because if I do, I'll never have to worry about my ability to go beyond the surface of the work."
Meg put the bottle down and looked at Christine pointedly. "You ready, Maestro? Let's give this another shot."
Outside the Populaire
Adam watched Meg dance as her friend kept her company. He had since barred the studio door from the outside. His swan wouldn't fly away.
Wrapping his hand in a rag, Adam broke the glass in the window and cleared it out of the way, startling the two girls before him.
"Megan…" he sighed as he looked upon her. "Sweet, sweet Megan."
"Who are you?" Meg demanded as Christine joined her side.
He smiled. "I'm your secret admirer. My name is Adam."
Meg stumbled back, grasping Christine fearfully and shaking her head. "No… no… you… stay away from me!"
Adam seemed perplexed. "What is it? What's wrong? Didn't you like my gifts?"
"Oh God!" Meg choked out. "You're sick!"
Adam stepped towards her, and Christine wrapped a protective arm around her friend.
Adam grew irritated. "After everything I've done for you, THIS is how you treat me? I got rid of your competition! I deserve a reward!" He reached for Meg once again but Christine pulled her away.
His eyes didn't leave Meg. "Tell your friend to let you come to me, my swan!" He demanded. "Tell her you dance for me. That you knew I was watching. You knew I was always watching! And you were waiting for me!"
Meg was shaking now. "C'mon, Meggy! Let's go!" Christine said as she dragged her friend towards the door. She attempted to open it, only to find it wouldn't budge.
"Dammit!" Christine cursed as she threw herself up against the door. Unfortunately, she was far too petite to make it budge. "ERIK!" she shouted out. "ERIK! Where are you! We're in the studio! HE'S HERE! He's trying to get MEG!"
"Don't call him!" Adam hissed. "Don't you DARE call my brother!"
"Brother!" Meg sputtered, then shook her head. "No. No way you're related to him!"
Adam suddenly grabbed Meg from Christine and shook her desperately. "Forget that!" he cried out. "I want you, Megan! Please… I need you!"
"You cannot have her..." a voice spoke calmly as a shadow descended from the air-ducts, his golden eyes focused on Adam.
"Get out!" Adam demanded as he glared at Erik. "Leave me with my swan!"
Erik pulled Meg from Adam's grip. "I think not." He pushed Meg towards Christine. "Leave now. I will deal with this."
"The door… it won't open," Christine explained.
Erik would have kicked it open – if not for the sound of Adam moving behind him. He quickly spun around to see the boy whipping out his rope. "Megan is MINE. You can't have her! You CAN'T!"
He threw the rope over Erik's head, but the masked hunter was ready for him, his hand at the level of his eye. Erik quickly yanked the rope off and pulled his own out of his duster. "Don't make me use this, boy."
Adam leapt at Erik without thought, fists flying aimlessly. "She's MINE!"
Erik easily dodged the onslaught and responded with a leg sweep, knocking the boy off his feet.
Pressing his boot down on Adam's throat, he attempted to cut off his air, but Adam grabbed Erik's ankle and twisted, sending the taller man off balance. He pinned Erik to the ground and ripped his mask from Erik's face before wrapping his hands around his throat.
Adam froze as his eyes fell upon Erik's exposed visage. "What the hell?" he gasped. "What… what are you?"
Taking the moment of distraction, Erik threw the boy off him and jumped to his feet. Adam echoed the action and caught Erik with a right fist.
Not looking back, the boy ran to Meg and wrapped strong bony fingers around her throat. "You're MINE, Megan! MINE!" he shouted as he squeezed tighter. "I will NOT let that rich boy have you! NEVER!"
Meg's eyes began to water, her face turning blue as oxygen was denied her, Christine desperately trying to pull the overzealous boy off her friend.
And then it happened.
A rope flew over Christine's head and wrapped around Adam's neck.
Christine could do nothing but bear witness: One hard tug, one sickening crack, and one dead body falling to the floor.
Meg collapsed to her knees and coughed violently, desperately trying to gulp in air. "Oh god… Erik… thank… thank you… so… so much!" she gasped out, voice raw as her vocal cords suffered from the temporary compression.
Meg's eyes then fell on an unmoving Adam, but her relief to be alive overrode the fact her best friend's boyfriend had just killed a man without hesitation.
"Meg? Christine?" Raoul banged on the door from outside. "Someone blocked the way here... hold on..."
There was a sound of furniture being dragged along the tiles outside, followed by Raoul yanking the door open.
Meg quickly jumped to her feet, throwing her arms around him like a lifeline. Raoul returned the embrace with concern, and then his eye caught something else - Erik standing over a motionless young man.
Raoul didn't need to ask, nor did he want to. All that mattered was that Meg's sadistic secret admirer was dead. He quickly led her out, comforting her as best he could.
Christine, on the other hand, remained frozen, staring at the dark figure before her.
"Erik-"
"Go," Erik hissed as he calmly coiled his rope, forgetting the torn mask upon the floor.
Christine shuddered at the ice in his voice. "E-Erik…?" Her breath caught as he turned to face her.
Erik's predatory golden eyes held nothing that resembled the man she knew. The tortured face she had grown to love now showed neither remorse nor regret for his actions.
Christine's beloved Erik was no longer standing in front of her. Instead, she had come face to face with the one creature he had never meant her to see.
The angel of death.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
Like a ton of bricks that hit me
And woke me from this dream
No matter how hard I tried to wash my hands
I could never get 'em clean
… I can't change what I'll always be…
- "Trip" (Hedley)
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
END OF EPISODE 51
A/N: FYI, Hedley is a Canadian band who's lead singer was top 3 finalist on "Canadian Idol 2", Jacob Hoggard.