Disclaimer: The Phantom of the Opera isn't mine. But Leah is! MOO HA HA.
A/N: Yay! New chappie! The next chapter should be up very soon, too… I hope not everyone's run away… Damn real life! Anywho, R+R if you're still following me…
Chapter 5
Leah gasped as the cold wind whipped past her, sending her nightgown flying, the odd sensation of falling filling her mind.
They landed with a soft thump, not the hard jolt she expected.
"Erik, how…" she began, but when he sent a small smile her way, the question melted from her lips.
He set off at a brisk pace, almost a run, but not quite, the soft candlelight of the other windows of the infirmary slowly fading from sight.
It was almost morning and the orange glow of sunlight had begun to seep onto the horizon.
"We must get back to the Opera house before sunrise… I am not one who likes to contend with early morning shoppers… or daylight, for that matter…" Erik finished, and Leah took a closer look at his skin.
It was a pallid colour, more so than on the big screen… It reminded her of the Michael Crawford phantom… He had always frightened her as a child…
But now, it seemed that this Phantom never left his lair in daytime… She had always known darkness was The Opera Ghosts friend… Yet now he looked sicklier than ever.
She followed him through the many streets, never stoping for more than a minute for her to catch her breath.
At last, when the high wall of the opera house had just come into view, Leah felt a dull ripping sensation, then, for a moment, nothing.
Then an intense searing filled her arm, and she came to an abrupt halt, trying to clutch her limb, but the pain only intensified.
She stumbled, and grabbed Erik's cloak as he turned, almost pulling him down with her.
He scooped her up, noting the blood now dribbling from the re-opened wound.
"Hush, I'll stich it back up, no matter," he whispered, as he began to walk again.
All the way back to the lair, he muttered nothings to her, keeping her on the plane of consciousness.
He stepped into the Black gondola, Leah's head lolling into the crook of his neck, her eyes unfocussed.
He rowed quickly and quietly through the underground passage.
No music filled the corridors now, no Opera, Erik sighed, not even the voice of that croaking toad Carlotta echoed around now…
Leah whimpered as he swirled off his heavy cloak, and placed Leah gently on the stool of his piano.
She lent back, and struck three keys, low and forlorn, Erik looked at her, she was not Christine, and he was yet to know if she could sing as well… could he love her? Could she truly love a monster?
"My Dear, I though you were stronger than this," He crooned, beginning to mop up blood, and threading a needle, as she continued a quiet whimper.
The first prick brought Leah around, crying out in protest.
"If you wish to heal, you will hold still, it will not take long." He said firmly, while Leah watched deft fingers work.
He knotted the strand, and broke it, with a final "Ow!" from Leah.
"It is done. You may get up now." Erik stated, as Leah rose, heedless of the instruction from her current guardian.
She barely managed to stagger over to the golden bed, when she collapsed, "I am so… tired…" She uttered into the folds of the covers, seeing a concerned shadow watching her as she yet gain fell into a dead sleep.