There were no lights inside the small dormitory where the ballerinas used to sleep. The candles were all melted into pathetic pools of wax from the fire, and the beds were no better. Even the clock which sat high up on the wall had stopped working.

"Do not curse yourself," Madeleine thought to herself as she stood in the doorway of the dormitory. "Monsieur le Phantom has been kind enough, allowing you to stay here and allowing you to keep your life."

She sighed. As quiet as her bare feet would let her, she walked over to the bed that was three away from the end.

"Nineteen years of my life were spent here," she remembered, tracing her fingers along the metal bed frame. "Those nineteen years are over," she began, "and this is year twenty-one, and no decent twenty-one year-old walks around in her undershirt and petticoat, even if there is no one to see her."

She stood and looked around. It was still light outside, she had only been here an hour. What was she to do?

"Mon Dieu, Madeleine, qu'est que si passé?" Her voice echoed through the hollow dormitory. The costumes, she remembered, were a floor below her. There had to be some clothing there, even if it were a man's costume, it was something. She turned and began her journey down to the next floor.

"Mal-dit!" she cursed as she cut her foot on a piece of glass. Her head wound throbbed and she remembered her bleeding cut. "Maybe there is some leftover muslin downstairs too."

She began her journey down the dark stairs.

The stairs were darker than the dormitory, but still some sort of light emitted from somewhere… With her feet, she felt for each step. With her hands, she followed the wall. Her left foot touched something hard and metal with glass around it. Carefully, she picked the object up, and after a moment, found the switch. It was an old lantern. The dim glow it produced was enough to see a foot or two before her.

"Cava bien." She smiled as she finally found the women's costume room. It seemed as though the fire had only caught from the theatre and the floors above it; this room was in perfect order.

A few ballerina costumes were hanging on one wall with chorus costumes on the opposite wall. Inside a chest, were bloomers, petticoats, and undershirts, all for women. She would have to remember that for later.

She exited the room.

A few feet down was another room where all of the masks and props were made. There, sat a complete roll of muslin. Madeleine tore herself two strips and dusted them off, wrapping one beneath her hair to hold her wound, and one around her foot, to hold the cut.

She moved on to the next room.

The silence was pounding in her ears, giving her a slight ache. Subconsciously, she began humming a small tune that all of the ballerinas used to sing together. With her own voice keeping her company, she peaked inside the next few rooms. They were all full of materials for making the larger sets.

Quietly, she moved back to the women's costume room. She filled the chest with a few other items of clothing, and shut it, causing a cloud of dust to form near her face. She sneezed, falling backwards onto the floor. With a huff, she began to drag the chest up the stairs, balancing the lantern in her other hand. Halfway up the stairs, she stepped on an old piece of parchment, slipping her foot out from below her. The lantern flew out of her hand, clattering down the stairs next to the chest. Madeleine landed next to the lantern with a thud. Somewhere, a voice was quietly laughing.

"Monsieur?" she called as she sat up and looked around the dark stairwell. "Oh!" she gasped as a strong pair of arms lifted her up off the floor.

"Yes, it is me," Monsieur le Phantom answered, a smile spread across his face. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm alright, thank you," she answered nervously. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and the white of his mask became more pronounced. Gently, he placed her on her fleet and picked up the chest as if it was light as a feather. Without another word, he climbed the stairs. "Oh! Merci, Monsieur!"

Quickly, she began to follow him up the stairs, slipping on the same piece of parchment. Once again, she tumbled down the stairs and landed flat on her stomach. Monsieur le Phantom paused at the top of the stairs and glanced nervously at Madeleine. With a groan, she sat up, holding her head.

"Are you sure you are a ballerina?" Monsieur asked, a dark humor in his voice. Quietly she laughed. They stood in silence for a moment until Monsieur turned and disappeared from sight.

The opera house fell silent.

She walked up the stairs, this time without falling, and found her way to the dormitory. At the end of the room sat the chest before her bed. He did he know, she thought. As she stepped closer, she noticed that he had laid out a clean set of blankets and a small pillow.

"The stories were wrong, Monsieur," she said, "You have a heart."

The ear straining silence was her only response. However, she could have sworn that she heard someone laughing, but it seemed as if it was from another world.

~V~V~V~V~V~

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! They are greatly appreciated!! (Hope everyone had a great Turkey Day and stuffed their faces!!! I know I did!) Let me know what you think of this chapter! Thanks so much!

Mucho love!!
La Vampire Susan

BTW: I DON'T OWN PTO OR ERIK (even though I would love to own him in all his sexy glory…) I only own Madeleine and the creeps who threw her in the opera house.

Thanks!