Erik turned on his heel and fled back into the sanctity of his home in the cellars of the opera house. Meg turned her head and caught sight of his cape turning the corner. She slammed her fist into the ground then ran after Christine's fallen angel.

Insufferable coward. She thought as she ran swiftly through the halls of the Opera Populaire. He indirectly murdered her mother and he was running from her? He should be down on his knees begging her forgiveness. Meg followed Erik into the tunnels leading to his lair. Although she was struck by the beauty of her surroundings, she despair and anger propelled her forward to punish the person who caused her mother's death.

Erik never turned around. Once he entered his lair he went straight to the organ. Erik pounded away notes that were harsh, and yet they flowed together in a sound of pain and agony. "Damn it!" Erik shouted. He slammed his fist into the keys. Erik shouted a string of colorful curses and punched anything he was near. Tears slipped down his face as he looked at his reflection in the broken mirror he just punched. He looked down at his knuckles. He had spilt them when he punched the mirror. Luckily there were no small shards embedded into his hand.

He cradled his injured hand and slouched over to his washroom to take care of his hand. Curse you. Erik thought to himself. You drove away one woman who may have cared a shred for you and you killed the other. He laughed out loud. He was a loser in love. A scream pierced his agonized thoughts. Someone in the torture chambers, now? After everyone is gone?

Meg sat up slowly and rubbed her arm where she fell. "He has a torture chamber." She said dryly to herself. She looked around the chamber and suddenly a panel slid aside and Erik walked through. "Vous! Vous n'êtes aucun ange! Vous êtes un monstre... une bête affreuse!" She started to run to Erik, but a searing pain ran up her leg and she collapsed in a heap.

Erik strode over to her side and knelt beside her to pick her up but before he could Meg began to pummel Erik's broad muscular chest with her tiny fists. "Je vous déteste. Vous l'avez tuée, vous monstre, vous bête!" Meg punched him harder. Eventually the punches slowed and stopped. Her anguished cries became a ragged whimper. "Erik, you killed her." Meg buried her face in her hands.

Erik looked down at Meg's form that heaved with unshed tears. She looked up at him, her face shining. "Meg," he whispered. Erik dropped to the ground and put his strong arms around her. Meg buried her face in his neck and cried. When she was all cried out she felt something wet drop onto her head. She looked up at Erik. She was amazed to see he had big tears running down his face. "Oh Meg, I didn't mean to. My God I didn't mean to." She wiped away his tears, but as she was doing so she ripped of his mask exposing the deformed, right side of his face. Erik gasped as Meg let the mask clatter to the ground.

"Never mask your face around me," she said bitterly, staring into his eyes.

Erik dropped his head. "Aren't you afraid of me?" He asked in a broken voice.

"Afraid of your face, no. Afraid of what you might do, can do, yes. Erik you were the one that caused my mother's death." Tears welled up in her eyes again, only this time from physical pain of her throbbing ankle. She ripped off her boot and looked down at her foot. The toes looked like purple breakfast sausages and her ankle was swollen to about three times its size. Erik sighed and scooped Meg up in his arms. Meg furrowed her brow as she let herself be carried along to his home. Meg felt a slight tingle where he touched her, but she just shook her head and told herself she was imagining things. That her legs were going numb instead of feeling like a pudding desert, and that her stomach wasn't feeling funny, melty, she was just nauseas from spraining her ankle.

Erik took her to what used to be Christine's room and laid her down on the heart shaped bed. He gestured toward her foot. "May I?" Meg nodded and Erik sat at her feet. He picked up her foot and placed it in his lap. Meg winced. "Sorry," Erik apologized. Meg gritted her teeth and shook her head. Erik looked at her foot closely, then up at her. "I'll be right back." He slid her foot off his lap and walked to the door. He paused and looked back at her for a moment then shook his head and closed the door behind him.

Meg let out a whoosh of air she had been holding while Erik had been examining her foot. "Bloody hell that hurts." She said loudly in a most unladylike manner. A cat that slinked in her door looked up at her reproachfully. "Pardon me," Meg said sarcastically.

"She doesn't like to be talked to that way." Erik came back in the room with a bunch of things for her foot. He smiled. "She is a person in many ways." Erik continued with a smile in his voice, and a small one on his face. "Now, let's tend to your foot." He came over and put some poultices on it then wrapped it in the bandage.

Meg looked at her foot and cocked her head. "Were you a doctor in some past life?" she asked dryly. "That has an expert air around it."

"Well when you don't go to doctors, you learn a bit. Gypsies help too." Erik responded. "I will be back with something to eat in a while. While I am gone would you like anything? A book perhaps?"

"Please, anything happy." Meg looked down at her hands pretending she was interested in how her fingers laced together.

"Of course." Erik gave a slight bow and left the room.

How do you forgive your mothers murderer? She thought.