THANK YOU ALL FOR THE REVIEWS!! (squee!) You all can't imagine the pleasure I get every time I visit FanFiction and see more reviews to be read. I believe they help me write faster! You ALL get cookies! --- (::) Anyhoodles, here's the new chapter! Here's where we learn to where Richard and Rachel headed off to.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Phantom of the Opera...well neither do YOU so THERE! (sniff)

Part Fifty-six:

Rachel and Richard both left the Opera House in silence. They could not enjoy themselves when both worried about Lark and Erik. "I don't understand it," Richard muttered as they walked down the outside steps, "so Erik just took off after the arrival of the Vicomte?" His sibling nodded and readjusted her muffle. "Yes, he turned so pale around the eyes….it was very strange!" She took out her gloves and started to pull them on. "What about Lark?" she questioned. Richard shook his head and sighed heavily. "All I found was her mask," he said, holding it out for her to see. "And I know she would never leave it willingly since…well….you know." Rachel nodded sadly. "Her mother's, the poor dear." Her brother nodded and tucked the mask into his pocket with care. "But I still don't understand," Richard raved, nearly tripping over a loose stone on the cobble work, "on why they would disappear on us like that!" Rachel rolled her eyes and looked sadly up at the dark, cloudy sky. Light, feathery snowflakes settled on her nose and eyelashes. "I hope everything's alright…" she murmured, shaking her head free of the winter fluff. Walking forward, she ran smack into her brother with a thud. "Ouch..!" she clutched her nose. "Richard! Why'd you stop…?" She became silent at the sight of his paled face. "Richard…?" He stared expressionless at something then slowly brought up his hand into a point. Eyes following where his finger was pointing, Rachel drew in a collective gasp.

Someone was hunched over on the curb, hands clutching their head tightly, and knuckles white as the falling snow. A couple of bags of luggage sat next to them, quietly gathering snowflakes that still fell from the sky. They had a familiar mask on…. "Erik!" Rachel cried out, suddenly breathless. The figure didn't look their way but continued to clutch their head. "Erik! Erik!" the woman cried, rushing to the man's side. As she neared, she could hear the shallow gasps of air and could see his shaking shoulders. Crouching next to him in the snow, Rachel pulled her muffle down from over her mouth and looked at the man's face. It was Erik alright, mask and all. "Erik…" she murmured. Richard huffed over and kneeled on his friend's other side. "Monsieur!" he gasped, alarmed, "Where's…?" Erik spoke too softly for them to hear. "What?" Rachel asked, confused. She leaned against him lightly in order to tilt her head nearer to his mouth. Erik shuddered and shrugged off her weight. "Lark…" he started to whisper hoarsely but cut off with a sob. "Erik…" Rachel touched his shoulder but his hands moved to hide his masked face. "God, why?!" He yelled suddenly in grief, causing the woman to jump back, alarmed. Richard's mouth became a thin line as he paled further still. Grabbing Erik's wrists, he pulled them down firmly to look his companion straight in the gold eye. "Where is she, Monsieur?"

"Gone." He murmured, tears dripping out from behind the mask. "She's…gone." Rachel clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening with shock. Her brother, however, remained calm, though his hands were shaking. "What do you mean, 'gone', Monsieur?" A shiver ran through Erik's body as he glared up at Richard, tears still streaming unheeded down his hidden face. "She's not dead." He replied unsteadily. Erik shook his head fiercely. "No," he murmured to himself, "I would be dead if she was…." Richard said nothing but looked around anxiously as Rachel fingered the bags he was carrying with a look of horrified remorse. She raised her head. "Where is Lark, Erik?" His hands clenched into tight fists as he stared at her, the pain clear in his watery eyes. "Gone." He croaked, "They took her…and…she's gone." Richard stood up and looked at the bags that sat in the snow. "Who took her?" he asked, shaking with anger. Erik glanced up and seeing the man's rage, also stood up. "Don't think I let them willingly," he snarled, seizing hold of his companion's lapels. "Don't you dare think I would let them take her without a second thought of remorse!" Richard glared at the older man. "I never said that," he said coldly. His voice rose as he also griped Erik's collar. "But it is not like you stopped them, is it?!"

"I couldn't!" Erik yelled back, fury replacing his grief. "Would you rather a mob come for her and I next?" he shoved off Richard's hand. "Would you rather harm come to…to Lark, then having her safe?" Richard stared open-mouthed, both men forgetting Rachel's presence. Tears were trickling down her face, collecting in her muffle. "Erik, who took her away from us…?" Her brother brushed aside her question and glared at Erik. "What are talking about..?" he demanded, "What mob?" Erik sank to the curb once again, releasing Richard's lapels. "The mob they would've sent," he murmured, clenching his head, "if I had not obeyed." Rachel bowed her head. "You're a criminal…?" she asked, hardly daring to believe her own ears. Erik let out a watery chuckle. "I suppose that's what they thought I was," he looked up at the woman. "But I am no criminal hiding from some petty crime." Rachel shook her head slowly as her brother just stared off down the street as if looking for the little girl they all treasured. "I…I don't understand…" she confessed. "Who would want to send a…a mob after you? And why?" A bitter laugh escaped Erik's lips as he looked at her, gold eyes showing all the pain he held. "Why, mademoiselle," he asked softly, "do you think I wear this?" he gestured sadly to his mask. Rachel gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth. "Just because of your face," she began, trembling, "they would…would hurt you?"

"People fear," Richard said suddenly, "what they do not understand." Erik looked at the sky dully. "Exactly." Rachel burst into tears. "Why?" she sputtered angrily, tears splashing down her face. "Who would be so….so cruel?" Richard helped her to her feet and gave out a hand for Erik, who pushed it aside, helping himself up off the cold, wet ground. "Humans." Erik answered lifelessly. Richard pulled his sister into his arms in some sort of comfort and looked, mystified, over at Erik. "But, monsieur," he whispered, "who took Lark?" He watched as Erik raised his head up towards the darkened, cloudy sky, allowing the greatly accumulating snowflakes rain down on his masked face but he did not answer. "Erik," Rachel asked timidly, looking at him with concern. He turned slowly towards her. "Yes?" She hesitated, then pulled herself away from Richard's embrace. "Where were you….going to go?" Erik shrugged hopelessly and sorrow threatened to engulf him once again. "I don't…know," he muttered, "I can't stay…where I used to, they won't let me. No, I have to…leave…" Rachel looked up at Richard who nodded slightly and went back to staring down the road. "We can talk about this all at home," she said finally, picking up one of Erik's bags. Richard nodded agreeably. "I think we will get more done when we've all rested." He, also, plucked up some of he bags and started to head for the carriage. Erik stared after them.

"What?" he asked horrified. Rachel turned to him, smiling sadly. "We cannot help Lark now, and you need somewhere to stay, no?" He swayed slightly and sat down hard on one of the leftover luggage. "I-I, you can't!" he said hoarsely. Richard came over and helped him to his feet. "We want to help you, Erik." He said gruffly. "We want to help get Lark back." Erik nodded, but looked helplessly at both of them. "I don't know how we'll…" Rachel just smiled at him and motioned for him to follow. "Don't worry, Erik," she said, "somehow, we'll find her and bring her back. But for now you must stay with us." She paused while grabbing another bag. "I believe the attic would be alright…?" Erik started to say something but ended up only knowing how to nod wearily. He glanced back at the hidden door of the Rue Scribe. Erik felt an aching in his chest as he thought of the emptied halls and rooms. Lark's room, he left untouched. It hurt too much to enter there while he left. "Au revoir," he whispered softly, turning to follow Rachel and Richard to the carriage. He would not come back here ever again.

I hated the thought of him abandoning his house under the Opera...but it was meant to be...REVIEW and make the authoress very, very happy! (gets Punjabbed)

Erik: Next time, mademoiselle, say please. --'