Chapter Fourteen

He watched her from beyond the mirror. Only a thin insufficient piece of glass separated him from her sleeping form. He was thankful that on this side of the "trick mirror" she could not see him, or his reflection. How horrid it would have looked? He had sat there against the glass, his body crouched tightly and tensed. Endless hours since the party had ended. He had tried to be firm, not allowing himself to go and see her for the rest of the night, even though he had the means to do so if necessary.

He was hopeless and needed on one approval on that fact. Denying himself the sight of her was like trying to breathe without air. Even though in his current state of being, oxygen was not a necessity. He didn't even know how he had survived this long, all these years without seeing her in person once more. Unable to wait behind the mirror anymore, he slid the glass aside and stepped into the room without making a sound. The only light in the space was a soft glow from the computer screen. With swift hands, he shut the screen off, and struck a match instead. Yes, he had watched technology progress through these long years . . . and he cared nothing for it. The simple light of a match was all he needed to see her, fast asleep clutching a pillow. Beautiful as ever. Of course he could tell how beautiful she was in any light, even in the dark.

But then again, didn't we all look the same in the dark?

He saw her green ball gown lying over a chair. He thought of the time he had once kissed the hem of his angel's dress, tears in his eyes in hopes of love. He knelt by her bedside and sat there for endless moments, just watching her. The match started to fade, so he used it to light the wick of a candle, one of the same ones he had left in her room before.

And he watched her, observed her every move while she slept. The way her shoulders rose and fell slightly as she breathed. How the strand of her hair across her forehead gracefully fell of their own accord. Streaks of blond in the darkness. The gentle part of her delicate heather lips, enticing him as she lay inches away unaware. Erik leaned closer and closer to her, savoring in the heat she emitted, until he was mere centimeters from touching his mouth to hers.

And he stopped, waiting. She had not stirred. He did not worry if his breath upon her face would wake her, he had none. Or if his heart beat would bring her ears to attention, there were no pluses of life.

But if there were, they would now be racing and throbbing against his rib cage. No feeling, except the thoughts that screamed inside his head. The emotions of rage, love and lust mixed in a deadly combination threatening to appear at any moment. But he was still, not daring to move any muscle.

Almost a century ago, he had received his first kiss from his beloved Christine, after living all his miserable life without one. She had kissed him gently on the forehead, while they both wept. And all these long years after that fateful night, he had vowed to wait. Wait for her either to return somehow, or until he was finally forgotten.

But some people still believed in the Opera Ghost. So he existed only to wait.

Was this the kiss he had been longing for?

She sighed in her sleep turning toward him, and Erik jerked up and away from her bed. How could he let himself almost get caught like that? Had the years of waiting made him that careless and venerable? His hands began to tremble. He had never thought it a crime to watch her as she slept. When her eyes were shut, shielded against him. But to intrude on her innocence with a stolen kiss?

Crushed, he fell on his knees, leaning once more by her bedside. Daringly he took one of her slender hands in his grasp. The scars from the splinters had faded somewhat, but the bruises from her fall were quite evident. He cursed himself for leading her into such danger. She didn't move or notice his touch, cold as it was. So there he let his hand rested as he tilted his head to one side, letting it nestle near her neck.

And he cried. For all his lack of physical being, he could still cry. Even though it was harder to see now. Tears fell softly onto her pillow fading into the fabric, crystal-like wisps and nothing more. Ghost tears. He couldn't have her willingly. He could never take her by force. Never again. At least he could have this moment, to cry by her shoulder. To weep by her side once more.

"Christine . . . " he sobbed trying to gather what comfort he could by calling her name. It killed him that this simple girl did not yet realize who she really was, who she had once been. She had a much larger role to play in what was to come than she knew. It tore him apart, mind and soul. To be so near her and yet still very far away.

Jessalyn rolled over on her side, her neck aching and her eyes finally deciding to open. She felt she had slept pretty soundly that night, considering what had happen and that she had ultimately cried herself to sleep. But she could have sworn someone had held her hand while she had been sleeping. It was a comforting feeling for only being a dream.

She took a look at her watch which was lying on the dresser. "That can't be right" she muttered, grabbing the timepiece to get a closer look. One p.m. She groaned loudly, letting her hands fall as fists onto the mattress. She couldn't believe she had slept in that long and that no one had come to wake her up. She pulled herself out of the bed and took some time to careful place her gown on hangers and left it on the closet door, not quite certain what she was going to do with it now. After getting a quick shower and stepping into a change of clothes, she went off looking for the boys. But there weren't in their room, or any where else in the opera as far as she could tell. She went to the tourism office to ask for Claudine and was then informed that it was Claudine's day off.

She had slept in so late that there seemed nothing for her today. She debated calling Daniel, and ended up crawling back to her room, feeling rather listless. She checked her email to discovered that Dan had actually sent her a message that morning.

"Jess. Sorry I couldn't find a piece of paper to write this down. Hope you see this. Tony and I went out to buy more supplies and rafts. Tomorrow we going to try again to find something in the cellars. Better prepared that is. I don't know if well be back in time for dinner so go ahead without us. There is no one using the stage tonight so I'll be wandering around up there this evening. Get plenty of rest today. You look like you need it. Dan"

She did some more research on the web, contacting fan sites and messages boards in hopes of some answers. Her mind was still amazed that Erik still how the power to manifest himself physical, and yet still be the ghost of a man who supposedly died more than a hundred years ago. Then she started checking sites on reference to ghosts and seeking spirits. The information she found was useful, but it didn't exactly give the answers she needed for her specific situation. She wondered if she would just have to find the answers herself, which would be a difficult and dangerous task she could tell. Only Erik had all the answer and it looked like now she was the only person he would consider revealing them to.

Tried of searching she went for a walk outside and stopped by a local café for some dinner. It was dusk now and no sign that Tony or Daniel had returned. So she waited. Until she remembered what Dan had said in his message. Perhaps he was upstairs on the stage. It wouldn't hurt to look.

Jessalyn pushed back one of the side doors that lead into the auditorium. The gala was scheduled three days after Christmas, but since the holidays were so closed, the performers had been given a break to spend Christmas with their families. In fact most of the opera dormitories and offices where empty and would be for almost another week. The entire space was in dim lighting except for the stage where bright foot lights shined against the large cyc in the background. Sure enough the figure pacing back and forth, casting a larger than life shadow, was Daniel. He had headphones over his ears and was listening intently to whatever was playing in his CD walkman. Jess walked up the stairs and tried to get his attention. He finally turned and saw her. He gave his trade mark grin and yanked his headphone off. "Jess, good to see you. I was going to wake you up so you could spend the day with Tony and me but I came into your room and you looked so tired. I thought it was best to let you sleep."

He gestured for her to come closer to him near the large black grand piano in the far left. "Come here." He called. She went to his side if only to humor him. He placed his player on the piano with the headphones facing toward them. "There is something I wanted to do." He pressed play, turning up the volume as loud as it could go.

The strains of "Music of the Night" from Webber's famous musical. The words started out slowly and softy and Daniel snuck behind her and grabbed her in an embrace. He pulled her in a waltz, with a goofy smile on his face.

"Hey what's this for?" She asked with a giggle, trying to keep in step with him. He continued to spin her about before he answered.

"Well I never did get a chance to have a dance with you last night. You ran off before the ball ended Cinderella." He teased. The second versed passed as they each tried to interpret the music into a recognizable waltz or some other dance.

Softly, deftly music shall surround you . . . feel it hear it, closing in around you . . .

"But I thought Claudine is the one you wanted to dance with last night?" Jess asked uncertain. She was still not really sure about her friend's feelings for Claudine. Or his feelings . . . for her?

Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world . . . leave all thought of the world you knew before . . .

Daniel shook his head. "Not a chance you should have seen the men swarming about her before you came to the party. She's a nice girl, but to her I'm just another face in the crowd."

Let your soul take you where you long to be . . . only then can you belong to me . . .

Dan let his arm hold her waist tighter, moving their bodies closer. She could feel his breathing, slow and calm, pushing against her rib cage with his own. He leaned down to touch his head to her forehead. It was no longer a formal waltz but an inmate slow dance. She looked into Dan's childish green eyes, part in surprise and part in longing.

Floating falling sweet intoxication . . .

She turned to look at them in the long row of mirror set up along the upstage right corner. The mirrors were set up for the dancers and singers while they practiced. She saw the images of her friend cradling her in his arms that were so safe and strong in this time of her silent confusion. But the image wavered to be replaced, and Jessalyn saw herself standing there in the same green ball gown she had worn last night. Only her hair was lighter in shade, a cloak rested over her shoulder, and her face though similar in many key features was not her own. And Daniel did not appear the same in the mirror either.

Let the dream begin . . . let your darker side give in . . .

Could it be perhaps that she was starring at the reflection of Christine Daae, not Jessalyn Greene? Daniel's face in the mirror was tuned away from her, but instead she now saw a dark shadow coming between the two "phantoms" she now saw in the mirror.

The power of . . .

And the two glowing eyes of Erik manifested themselves in her view, filled with terror and revenge. Jess closed her eyes and flung herself out of Dan's embrace. He looked at her shocked. "Jessalyn, what's the matter? I didn't . . . offend you did I?"

Jess shook her head, looking back at the mirror. Now she saw nothing but her true image starring back at her. She turned to Dan. "No I just thought I saw something . . . " she stopped. "Dan can I ask you something?" He nodded. "When you found out you had the opportunity to go to Paris, did you honestly think you would find anything?"

Dan took a seat at the piano bench, shutting off his CD player. He sighed. "Honestly, yes I did. Stupid as that sounds." He remarked in an almost cynical tone. "Nothing earth shattering, but at least some revelation, or some clue that had gone unchecked. Something new." Jess leaned over the piano gazing at him. "That's all really what all our lives are, searching for something new. Something different and exciting." He played with his hands in his lap. "And if I found nothing, which looks like what's happening now, I still want to go home and publish my study. I feel like it some duty of mine, not to have the Opera Ghost dismissed as superstition, but accepted as fact. The most tragic love story of all time wasn't a fairy tale, it was true." He chuckled. "You must think I'm crazy, talking like this."

Jess smiled back at him. "No more crazy than I am." That's what she admired about him, his courage and childish determination to accomplish his intellectual goals. If only she could tell him, everything that had happen to her. She hated keeping it secret, when Daniel of all people could be the only one to help her. The one to protect her. "Daniel, there is something I have to tell you..." she whispered.

The quite of the auditorium was ripped apart as a cry of grief and rage tore into the silence like a knife. Jess felt as if she could leap out of her very skin at the sound of it. And the pain it conveyed cut into her heart. She knew whom it belonged to. It was Erik crying in vengeance. Not even ghosts could be silence forever. That meant he was here and watching them.

"What the hell was that?" Dan asked. Jess turned to him in amazement. Before she thought only she could see Erik and know of his presence. There had been plenty of time where he could have been spotted or suspected by the others but was not.

"You heard it too?" she asked in disbelief.

Dan nodded. "Uh, how can you not? It was so loud and angry. Who could have done that?" Jess went and hugged Daniel both in relief and fear. She knew now she wasn't crazy and she wasn't "just imaging things." Everything she had seen was real. But that almost meant Erik was now a real threat to all of them. When Daniel had heard that cry of rage, his fate was now decided. She kept Dan close, fearfully that Erik might try to harm him, from wherever the ghost was hiding.

"Come on Dan. Let's get out of her. Please." She took his hand, pulling him along the stage, despite his protest to find out what had happened.

"But Jess, I . . . " he tried to object.

"Please trust me. It's better that we not know." She tugged at his arm with such force giving him no choice. They had to leave now!

You will curse the day you did not do, all that the Phantom asked of you . . .

A/N: grovels. I'm really sorry for the long time between updates, but I have been really busy. Christmas retail worker should give you some clue. Plus I have been rehearsing for a holiday concert, a sudden death in a friend's family and well it is Christmas. Plus I had to get my fanny in gear to finish stuff for when I return to school on break. Then the powers goes out and Christmas and such. Sorry for my slacking but I really was busy and then also tired. But here's a new chapter for you all who have been patient. Not much action but a combination of angst and fluff scenes. Poor Jessalyn, Dan and Tony won't be going home for the holidays (poor Erik too) More devolvement coming up in the next chapter, since we know Erik is no longer a figment of our imagination. Fun in the cellars with rafts, oars, and inter-tubes shaped like little duckies. (Just kidding on that last part)

Happy Holidays, Go see Phantom movie in theaters it's bloody awesome.

-Punjabchild