May 25th 1882
Meg watched in horror as Christine crumpled to the floor, her body limp with the pain of the knife wound. The ballerina struggled and writhed in the heavy hands that bound her, yet more tears streaming as she shrieked and wailed at the sight of her childhood friend, desperate to come to her aid. The three men who'd previously held the Vicomtess now swarmed, one holding down her legs whilst another shoved her head down to the floor – the brunette's face was now in Meg's sight. She tried to make contact but as far as she could see Christine was quickly blacking out, her eyelids flickering. Meg was drawn to the final movement of her friend: the dropping of her arms to her abdomen – surely a sign.
"Let her go, you beasts, get off her!" Meg screeched as she watched Christine finally fall unconscious, her arms resting as they were. "For God's sake, she's pregnant! What of the child? Please, monsieur…" She let the final words turn to a whimper as she looked at the gruesome gentleman who controlled this group of men. His sickening grin caused defeat to wash over her as she finally allowed herself to completely break down, sobs racking through her at the hopeless situation and closed her eyes in defeat…
Within that split second she heard a cross between a shout and a groan, soon followed by a slight gag and the click of the pistol, now ready to shoot. Meg opened her eyes immediately and was greeted with what she would soon consider to be some kind of miracle.
The filthy leader was now trapped with his neck in the crook of an arm, slightly choked whilst his weapon pointed out at the rest of the gang. By the criminal's shoulder, she could see a tall man, though perhaps only she was able to make out the ghostly mask through the shadow cast by a black fedora.
"Gentlemen, I do hope you'll forgive this intrusion," the silky voice spoke softly and with a murderous tone. Meg felt the grip upon her loosen ever so slightly at this. "Then again, you don't seem to mind crossing boundaries." He let his lips curl into a smirk. "Now I have two options for you all – one, you can stand your ground. By all means, you're welcome to try it. But I wouldn't… that is, unless death is calling to you." Erik brought the gun down so the barrel went directly into their front man's left temple, gaining a whimper from him. "Or, you could just run…"
The group didn't wait for a second invitation and Meg was shoved to the ground in their haste. She landed on her arm, causing a crack that made her yelp. But her friend needed her and so without wasting a moment, she scrambled over to Christine's side where the gash remained blaringly obvious and bleeding steadily. Swiftly, Meg tore part of the hem from her dress off with her good arm and tried to clear up the area without much success – the blood was coming too fast. She looked over her shoulder in time to see the final man running away, leaving Erik still clasping the pistol when he turned to face her. The visible side of his face turned as white as the mask when he finally noticed the body behind her.
Meg turned her attention back to Christine, whose colour was quickly fading too, causing Meg to tug at her dress single-handed and press the fresh material over the wound. She was soon joined by Erik who swept off a black cloak he'd apparently been wearing and wrapped it tightly round the middle area of Christine's body before swiftly shifting the woman up into his arms.
The tall man started to stride off, signaling Meg to follow him, and so the little blonde shakily got to her feet and dusted down what remained of the faded red skirts. As she began to follow her masked companion, Meg felt herself tread on something with the toe of her boots and, upon looking down, caught a glimpse of gold. The ballerina couldn't help but give a slight gasp of delight before snatching up the previously stolen pocket watch with her right hand from the cobbles and rubbing the grime onto the bodice of her garb, jogging slightly to catch up to Erik as she did so.
But as she saw the gaunt face of her best friend poking from behind the protective body of her angel, she found the recovery of something so trivial to be rather minor in comparison to the great scars that had also been left as a result of their encounter.
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Erik powered on through the ever gaining darkness, the dead weight in his embrace lending him the motivation it required. He let his ears listen out for the footsteps of Meg so as not to lose her but he could tell she was struggling to match his speed, not that she complained for they both knew how important it was to keep going.
The pair finally came out into the street that their townhouse was located and were going at such a pace that they collided with another pair of travelers.
Madame Giry looked ready to boil over with anger, but stopped as she caught sight of the crumpled figure in Erik's arms, a flicker of fear in her eyes for a moment before she came back to her senses. She turned to the young girl beside her: "Marie, go fetch the doctor immediately. The nearest one lives two streets from here," The older woman pointed the maid in the right direction before leading the way back to their building, fumbling slightly as she tried to fit the key into the door.
Erik whisked through the hall and immediately headed straight for the downstairs bedroom, previously the parlour, leaving Meg, who was cradling one wrist, to explain the situation to her mother as he nudged the door closed behind him. He set Christine softly onto the sheets of the modest double bed that lay in the center of the small room, ensuring her head was supported by the pillows there. Erik finally got a proper glimpse of his angel.
As he let his eyes take in her body, the unfurling of his cloak let her bump come into full view again. Though Erik had known of the pregnancy, it was clear she was much further on than was to have been expected – surprising, to say the least. In fact, why she was having a party at such a date was beyond him though it was no doubt at the fault of her darling Vicomte. The Vicomte whose child she was carrying…
He quickly shifted his gaze from the bump as he found himself seething at the thought of his hands upon her, instead choosing to focus on that which Erik knew – her angelic face. The pallor of her skin was the only difference, most likely due to the blood loss, but the loss of consciousness let all the emotion melt away and left only her beauty. Her lips were slightly open, the coral colour as perfect as always, whilst her chocolate curls tumbled flawlessly, framing her like a painting. Of course, he couldn't see the cat-like irises that hid behind the lids and spidery lashes but he could still picture them.
As he took this all in, Erik couldn't help but remember the first time he'd seen her…
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Erik had heard the sobbing from his lair but why he had chosen to pursue was beyond him - all he knew was that the closer he grew to it, the more musical and yet dejected it would sound. When he finally located the source of the noise he wasn't sure what to think:
His wandering had led him to the chapel; and, kneeling in the middle of the stone floor, was a small girl, her strange pale green eyes tear-filled and lined with spidery lashes. Her cheeks were flushed and pink as the whites of her eyes, with her dark hair pulled into a long, thick plait along her back. From what Erik could see, the girl was facing a portrait up by the candles – he'd seen many a ballerina pray like this. But never her…
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Erik smiled at the memory and relished in it. That time was glorious, the time he finally found someone who needed him, wanted him – until she grew up. The man let his gaze drift from the blank patch of wall he'd been staring at and back to Christine, whose face was the colour of the sheets. He could still see the innocent child within that face, but age had made her features more defined. Right now one would think she was merely sleeping lightly.
At that moment, Erik heard the front door opening and stood from his perch at the edge of the bed, as though afraid to be caught in the wrong. He lightly rolled Christine so she was lying on her back and shifted his cape from beneath her body. One finger lightly brushed her forearm and for just a moment, Erik let it linger – then moved toward the exit. But before he could leave the door swung inwards and a young gentleman dressed smartly bustled in, carrying a briefcase that Erik assumed was filled with his equipment. His skin crawled at the thought of talking to this man, all doctors made him shudder, but for the woman who lay behind him, Erik would try…*
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Sorry for such a long wait! I have a really busy life at the moment, with some important exams in summer and such – I'm afraid that stuff comes first, but I promise this isn't abandoned! Please let me know what you think, and stuff gets good from here again – I'll get writing. Always nice to see more and more people are reading too so thank you for that (:
Also, let me know if there's any confusion whilst reading as my beta seemed to run into a few confusions (I've tried to clear them up!)
And finally, get ready for raving cause my LND Australia DVD finally arrived xD Gonna watch it now!