Disclaimer: Is it me, or does it seem like these were designed to rub salt into my festering wounds?
Chapter Thirteen: Feeling Feverish
Danielle
Things were not well in Paris. Danielle may have been living quite happily and comfortably in her haven underground, but in the city illness threatened all. Influenza was raging through the streets, killing the old, the young, the weak, and the strong. Many had died in the four weeks since Danielle had begun preparing for her debut, and many more would follow them to the tomb. She prayed everyday that none of her loved ones would suffer the malady.
One day in rehearsals, Danielle was speaking with Guillaume Aubriot, the tenor playing Robert, about the fatalities. The Populaire was minus two stage-hands and a cellist already due to the epidemic. Apparently, the managers had been considering postponing the opera because of the spreading sickness, hoping that allowing the performers that didn't live in theater to stay at home would prevent any further ingress of influenza.
This is exactly what the managers finally did two weeks before the date set for the gala performance. One of the ballerinas had come down with influenza, and the prognosis wasn't good. Danielle was relieved. Erik, on the hand, was furious.
"In two weeks you would have been the toast of Paris, and they do this to us," he shouted to the lake when she brought him the news. "In two weeks all of our plans, our work, our dreams would have come to fruition! Now we have to wait for weeks, maybe months to see this through."
"Erik," Danielle interrupted, "it's better this way. Attendance has been cut severely since the epidemic broke loose. Once the show goes on, people will be ready for an escape," she added, knowing that trying to use the epidemic for their advantage would be more effective with Erik than telling him how much better it would be for the health of the performers of the Populaire. "Besides, I'd rather stay in relative safety than be around a lot of people who might have been exposed to it." It'll also be nice to keep an eye on you. God knows I'd hate to come home from rehearsals one day and find you in a fever. She didn't voice this thought. Making Erik face his own mortality wouldn't calm him down one jot. She also failed to mention that she'd enjoy the extra time with him.
Danielle had no comprehension of just how relieved he would have been if she's drawn that fact to his attention.
Danielle and Erik did enjoy the company during their little vacation. There was music almost all day long in their grotto, away from the worries of the world. Danielle did occasionally venture forth to visit Marie Giry to see how she and the rest of the company were doing. Erik usually accompanied her, which surprised her immensely. It hadn't occurred to her before their first visit that he might worry about his old friend.
Nadir was also a frequent guest. He was very concerned regarding Erik's fate, as well as Danielle's. Danielle was glad to have him, though Erik found him bothersome. Danielle couldn't understand why that would be. She knew that it had something to do with her. She had known since her first encounter with the Persian. Who did they think they were kidding with their quick change of language as soon as Nadir had realized that she was present? It's wasn't extremely subtle.
Erik had been mysterious before she'd made Nadir's acquaintance. Now he was more enigmatic than ever before.
Everything was dark, so dark. Danielle couldn't see a thing as she made her way around the lair. She was looking for Erik. She couldn't remember why she'd wanted to see him. Whatever it was, it was very important that she find him.
Suddenly, she could feel two familiar arms wrap around her from the back. She knew those arms. They were in all of her waking and sleeping dreams. Erik.
Erik pressed his bare cheek against her neck. Danielle could feel his breath as he whispered, "I need you, Danae. Come back to me."
"What do you mean," she questioned. "I'm right here, Erik."
"Please come back," he repeated, fainter than before, as if he were calling across a great distance. "Please, Danae." He was gone.
Danielle woke up with a jolt. Something was wrong, very wrong. She had never had a dream like that before. It had been so real, so vivid, that it left her in a cold sweat. The clock on the wall read 6:34. She couldn't hear anything; it was unnerving. She didn't know if Erik was usually up by then. She always slept until 7:30, at least, but he was always up before her. It didn't seem natural for her to wake up first. She didn't even take the time to put on a robe before she left her room to find Erik, grabbing a candle.
Danielle ran straight to his bedroom. She knew he'd be there, though she couldn't tell exactly why. She threw the door open and found it completely dark. From the wavering light of her candle, she could see a shadowy form lying in the bed. She began to feel panicky as she hurried to him.
Danielle's mind had enough time to register that he was wearing neither his mask, nor (she blushed a bit) a shirt, before she noticed that he was sweating and delirious. He was moaning and whispering in his sleep, haunted by something only his fevered brain could identify. Danielle wasn't even sure what language he was speaking. Her greatest fears had come true. It was obvious that he had caught influenza somehow.
For a moment Danielle wasn't sure what to do. She immediately thought of Marie. She would know what to do. If she didn't, perhaps she could get a message to Nadir.
Danielle lit a few more candles. She hurried off into the kitchen and found a rag, which she dampened. She quickly returned to Erik's side and laid it on his forehead, and then pulled the midnight blue covers up to keep him warm. Before she ran off to find the ballet mistress, Danielle brought her lips to Erik's usually masked cheek. She hated to leave him, but she needed help.
Within ten minutes she was in Marie's quarters. Marie couldn't do much for Erik; she was already taking care of three sick ballerinas, but she would certainly go to Nadir's apartment of the Rue de Rivoli and tell him of Erik's illness. She told Danielle that Nadir would probably be of greater use, anyway.
Danielle was back at Erik's bedside in minutes. She silently gazed at his face, finally studying his features. What she was seeing wasn't pretty. It looked as if someone had tried to burn Erik's face off when he was younger. For all she knew, that could very well have been the case. Danielle ran her fingers through his dark hair as he whispered some more incoherent rambling. Tears sprang to her eyes as she thought, I love him. What will I do if I never see him again?
Nadir
Nadir made his way through the labyrinth that was the cellars of the Opera Populaire. He had worried for some time that something like this might happen. Living underground was not the healthiest plan that Erik could have come up with, though Nadir had been more worried about the girl than about Erik himself. It was very strange for Erik to be ill. In all the years that he had known Erik, he could only think of a handful of times that the trap-door lover had been under the weather.
The Persian finally reached the grotto that Erik and Mademoiselle D'Artoi called home. The place was very dark. Apparently the girl had known felt it necessary to light as many candles as Erik usually employed. He groped his way to the room he knew to be Erik's bedchamber. The door was open, but he stopped short of the threshold. He was rather started by what he was seeing.
Mademoiselle D'Artoi was slowly mopping Erik's fevered brow…his unmasked brow. She was also singing softly to him as he moaned in his delirium. She also ran the damp cloth over Erik's exposed chest, an area that she looked at as thought it were forbidden territory. Well, Naidr said to himself, I suppose that it is forbidden to her. The way she lingered a bit before bringing her gaze back to his face (she didn't flinch in the slightest) made him wonder. Could the girl be attracted to Erik? Did she harbor any feelings for this phantom?
Nadir cleared his throat. He didn't want to be privy to any more of these revelations. All of it was really quite private. Erik would probably have killed him on the spot for witnessing the girl's…what was the right word? Ministrations? Caresses? Nadir suddenly realized just how much he didn't want to know the answer to that question.
Mademoiselle D'Artoi fairly jumped out of her skin. Perhaps she hadn't wanted to be caught looking at Erik that way. It would have done nothing for her reputation, no doubt. She stood up and walked toward him. Nadir marveled at how pale and drawn her face was. She really was worried about Erik.
"Danielle," he said, finally stepping into the room, "What are his symptoms?"
"He is feverish, delirious. He speaks, but I can't understand anything he says. I found him like this an hour or so ago. I think it's…," she trailed off, unable to put her fear into words, lest she tempt fate.
The Persian walked past her to the bed. He knew at a glance that Erik had contracted the sickness ravaging Paris. There wasn't much to be done, but Nadir would give him what remedies he could. He set to work, concocting medicines he had learned not only in Persia, but also in his travels. Attempting to guard the world from Erik had been an interesting and adventurous task that had taken him to many countries. Once he hadfinished getting the ingredients together, he went to the kitchen to mix them with water and heat the brew.
When he got back, the girl was beside Erik again. The scene was oddly tender. She was holding his hand in both of her own. She placed a light kiss on the back of his hand as Erik babbled intelligibly. It was a peculiar blendof almost every language Nadir could think of, and some he couldn't even guess. There was only one clearly discernible phrase that Erik repeated like a mantra: "Don't leave me, Danae. Please don't leave me."
There were tears in her eyes, and bags under them, when Danielle looked up at Nadir. "I'm afraid that it is influenza," he told her sadly. The girl gasped and covered her mouth. The tears flowed freely. "I'm making some herbal remedies now. After I administer them, his constitution and will to live will be all that can save him. If you wish it, I will stay here and help you care for him. If you can accommodate me, that is."
Danielle shook her head, as if to clear it. "Of course, Nadir. When I'm here with Erik, you can sleep in my bed if you like. There is a couch in Erik's study if you prefer that."
"I think, Mademoiselle, that I would do best to sleep on the couch," he answered conservatively.
Nadir decided that he would prepare his bed himself. He got the feeling that the girl would rather stay with their patient. As he walked out of the door, he turned around. She was absent-mindedly running her fingers through Erik's hair while contemplating his face. What could she be thinking?
Danielle
Danielle was thinking that she might lose her teacher and friend. She had known Erik for only four months and she couldn't begin to imagine life without him. Would she still be able to sing, or would it hurt too much to be reminded of him? Would she be able to look at another man again? One thing was certain: her life would change drastically if she lost him to the influenza, and it would be for the worse.
She could talk so easily with Erik. Being around him was so natural. And he genuinely cared for her. She trusted him with her life. She needed his support.
Now, he needed hers. He called to her at all hours of the night. If he was restless, Danielle knew it, even if he whispered her name while she was resting in her own room. She rarely left Erik's side, so this was unusual, but she always knew. She'd always come running to comfort him from the nightmares that plagued his sleep. It was taking quite a toll on her, but she hardly noticed. Danielle worried about Erik so much that she gave almost no thought to herself.
The fever raged for days before it broke, only to come back again for several days more. When will this end? There was only one silver lining to this dark storm cloud. At least she got an uninhibited view of Erik's lovely chest. The slight left Danielle feeling a bit feverish herself.
A/N: Don't worry, my pretties. I wouldn't kill off Erik so soon. And before any of you ask, she is NOT catching the flu. She's feeling feverish for a completely different reason. (nudge, nudge. wink wink)
A/N: Some of you might think it strange that they would be so concerned about a flu break-out, but back then, people died from even milder illnesses. They didn't have vaccinations then, so there weren't any preventative measures that could be taken, except staying away from infected people. Epidemics were nothing to sneeze at. (No pun intended)
