A/N: Yeah, of course I'd fuse Crime and Punishment with Phantom. It's going to be... interesting, wherever it's going (to Germany!). I actually like Germany and have a high respect for Germans, though I have never been there. (shrug) Maybe one day, after I learn German. R&R.

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"Erik, you barely recovered from your illness and you're going to Germany?"

"Quiet, Daroga."

"You hardly recovered! It's a miracle you're still alive! You ought to be resting in bed for a week! Don't you recall what the doctor--"

"Silence," Erik said with growing, restrained fury.

"Need I remind you that I saved your life?"

"I know, Daroga!" Erik erupted, towering over him, even though they were about the same height. "My gratitude, I'm sure, is forever and eternally yours, if I can ever find a reason to thank you for saving my pathetic life; however, my patience with you is waning evermore thin. If you do not keep quiet, I'll—I'll--"

Erik fingered his Punjab lasso. Daroga knew what Erik was thinking. He sighed, and kept quiet. Erik was growing daily madder with love. All Daroga could do was watch the self-destruction.

Daroga watched as his slim, almost skeletal friend disappeared around a corner. Since Erik was dressed in black, it was easy for him to act like a shadow—or an infamous Opera Ghost.

Daroga was about Erik's height, which was rather tall, yet he was not as thin and shadowy, which made it harder for him to accompany Erik as he had commanded, especially since Erik decided to take the backstreets and alleyways to the train station. Daroga only agreed to come because he feared Erik would have a relapse and fall ill again, and it was a very daring trip Erik was planning to take for someone of his age and his health. Daroga's servant, Darius, was not faring much better than Daroga.

"Master Khan," Darius said through clenched teeth, panting, "how much farther have we to go?"

"A little farther, Darius," sighed Daroga, continuing to follow Erik.

Daroga's real name was Nadir Khan. He was a Persian. He had met Erik in Persia long ago, having saved his life, and had met up with him in France, of all places. Now, they were together heading out to Germany.

Germany, of all places, Nadir thought, shaking his head and wiping away sweat from his forehead. Can Erik even speak German?

"Come, Daroga," ordered Erik gently. "The train awaits us."

"Erik, let me ask you one thing--"

"Why Germany?" Erik asked for him. Nadir nodded once, slightly.

Erik produced a newspaper. "Read the headline."

Nadir read. It was about the Viscount Chagny and Christine.

"So, they're in Germany now?"

"Very good. You can read," Erik said, snatching the paper back from him. "On their extended honeymoon, nonetheless...they've been on a honeymoon for a very long time, you know. They haven't yet set one foot in France. Christine seems to have forgotten all about her poor Erik... her angel... her maestro... and she almost had been my wife..."

Erik became very quiet, save for a few mumblings to himself. Nadir felt sympathy for him.

"What you did was good, Erik. Letting her marry the viscount was right."

Erik turned around and eyed him dangerously. His eyes that were obscured by his mask flared with indignation at the remark. Nadir decided not to say anything more, but sighed. Erik's maddening love for Christine would be the end of him yet.

The three of them got on the train. To Germany it was.