Disclaimer: I realized I have been neglectful. I have completely forgotten to tell the world that The Phantom of the Opera does not belong to me and the only thing that actually does is Serena. But I guess you had already figured that out, huh? Anyway, on with the story!

Chapter 4

The path was dark, with only just enough light seeping its way in through the cracks in the walls to make it able for Serena to see where she was going. The sound of dripping water reached her ear and she could feel a random rat hurrying out of the way for her, all the while squeaking in protest. Had she been down here all alone, she would probably have been deathly scared. But now, with Erik's hand maintaining a firm grip on hers, she felt safe. She trusted him to know the way and she followed him blindly, never hesitating.

In truth, she did not know why she longed for his company so much. Whenever they had been unable to see each other for several days, Serena would grow impatient and short-tempered, always keeping a lookout for his silhouette in the shadows. While the ballet girls would speak of the Phantom in voices hushed with fear, Serena felt nothing of the sort. She was genuinely interested in his well-being and was concerned about him having no one to turn to when he was troubled. That, more than anything, had spurred her to befriend him.

A chilly draught brought her out of her thoughts and Erik looked back at her when she shivered.

"I know it's pretty cold down here. I've grown used to it but I imagine it must be uncomfortable for you," he said and halted for a moment to unclasp his cape.

He draped it around her shoulders and she felt warmer at once. They continued walking and she couldn't help but burying her nose in the cape, inhaling his scent. It smelled of damp and something she couldn't put her finger on. A faint memory of a summer day many years ago drifted across her mind before vanishing and she dismissed it for now, confident that she would remember it one day.

After several twists and turns the path gave way for a large winding staircase in stone, traveling deeper down into the blackness further than she could see.

"You're not afraid of the dark, are you?" Erik asked when she stared down to where its end would be.

"No, only if I'm alone," she answered but still frowned with worry.

"I'm here with you, Serena. I won't go anywhere. I promise not to leave you alone in the darkness," he said and she smiled and let him lead her down the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, a gondola was tied to the shore of a small lake. On the other end of the lake, she could see the flickering light of candles beyond a gateway. Erik helped her down into the gondola and stood behind her to pole the gondola along. Ever so often, she would look up at him, making sure he was still there. No matter how much she wanted to be brave, the dark had always frightened her a bit. It could be soothing also, but only if she knew where she was and that no danger lured close by. Down here, the darkness was heavy, pressing at her from every side as if trying to swallow her whole. That thought only produced more frightening images and she forced herself to think about something else. Like if Erik was still with her, for example. She threw another glance up at him and he met her gaze.

"What frightens you, Serena? I told you I would not abandon you here in the dark."

"I know you wouldn't. It's just… I've always feared the dark a little bit and the darkness down here is so thick I could almost grasp it."

"I've discovered that the dark proves useful when you want to hide."

"Yeah, that's another thing. Sure you can hide in the darkness but the problem is someone else could do the same thing, waiting for the opportune moment to strike at you."

"Not to worry. I would know if anyone was here."

She dropped the subject, a little comforted but still on her guard. She forgot all her thoughts of danger, however, when they traveled through the gateway and she first laid eyes upon Erik's home. Before he had made this place his home, it had probably looked like every other cave, with different shelves connected to each other by natural steps formed by the water long ago. But now, with the walls covered in red drapes and thick carpets on the ground, it looked nothing like a cave anymore. Candelabras stood everywhere, even in the lake, and a fire sparkled in the hearth on one of the shelves made to be the living room, with cozy armchairs, a couch placed in front of the fire and with a table on which an exquisite chessboard was placed. An organ stood on the middle shelf with large stacks of paper sheets on top of it. A violin case leaned against the organ and several models of grand buildings stood on a table nearby. A staircase in stone traveled from the right side of the organ up to three different openings, each with a black and red drape in front of it. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen and it suited him perfectly.

"This is amazing," she breathed, deeply impressed, as he helped her out of the gondola.

It was a fortress of beauty and rich colors, a world of magic hidden from the real world. Down here, time seemed irrelevant and daylight unnecessary. This place was untouched by the world she came from and the raw brutality so often displayed on the streets of Paris. And yet, despite all the wonders she could see here in his home, it was clear that this place held him chained. What was a fortress of beauty in her eyes was a fortress of solitude and pain in his. Because while Serena was busy taking in everything around her, Erik had remained standing on the docks beside the gondola, watching her with sorrowful eyes.

What had Christine done to him? Had she realized, as she turned her back on him and fled with the handsome Vicomte, that she by doing so condemned Erik to a lifetime of regrets and pain – a life he would have to live alone?

"I could show you around if you want to," Erik offered silently, his eyes watchful.

And suddenly Serena was hit by the realization that right now, she was probably behaving exactly as Christine had done the first time Erik took her to see his home. If Serena did everything she had done; befriending him and earning his trust, to try and prevent history from repeating itself, she would have to make a change right at this moment. Some things were of course different already; Christine had not known from the beginning that her Angel of Music was the Phantom of the Opera.

But right here, right now, Serena found herself at an important and critical moment. It was up to her to change things from now on. This was the final test. This was where Christine would have happily accepted without a second thought.

"This is amazing," she repeated and turned towards him. "But what I really long for right now, is to play a game of chess."

For a moment, his eyes studied her as if trying to make sure she wasn't joking. Then a smile touched his lips and she knew she had passed the test. She had proven to him once and for all that she was nothing like Christine, for Meg had once told her that Christine despised chess above all other things.

"Then it is a good thing, Serena that chess happens to be one of my favorite pastimes. Shall we?"

Whenever Serena had dared to dream about singing on a stage with great success, she had never thought she would celebrate on the night of her debut with a game of chess – and actually enjoy it more than any fancy dinner with the high society of France. But she found that she did. Her father had spent many an afternoon playing with her and in time she had grown quite skillful, so it was not long until she won over her father every time they played. With Erik, however, she had to concentrate harder and try to be as sly and foreseeing as possible. It really put her skills on the edge and she felt the anticipation of competing rise within her. Time seemed to fly while they were seated in front of the chessboard and many hours later, Erik cast a brief glance at the clock and gave a startled jump.

"Is that the time? Good Lord, Serena, I did not mean for you to stay up this late! You must be exhausted after everything that has happened today."

Serena yawned and gave him a sleepy smile.

"I'm not tired. It's your turn."

"I think," Erik began and stood up to put away the chessboard,"that we should continue this game another day."

She rose to her feet as well, blinking tiredly like an owl.

"Where will I sleep, then?"

He gently took her hand and led her up the steps to the opening with the black and red drapes at the far left.

"This room will be yours to use. Mine is the one to the right and the kitchen's in the middle."

Behind the drapes to her room, a beautiful bed in the shape of a swan waited for her, covered in blankets and pillows of velvet and silk. She climbed into it, smiling softly when he tucked the blankets around her. Her eyes drifted shut almost immediately after laying her head on the pillows and so she couldn't tell for sure if his lips pressed against her forehead for a moment or not.

"Sleep tight, Serena," his voice whispered in the darkness and she let the last of her consciousness slip away, confident that she was safe there with him.

"You're a fool for daring to believe that this young woman feels something more for you than just friendship," Erik said to himself after making sure Serena was asleep.

He made his way back into the living room and sat down in front of the fireplace, his eyes coming to rest on their half-finished game of chess. He chuckled softly when noticing he had at last cornered that damn queen of hers; the one she had used to take out several of his pieces. She was good; there was no question about it. He couldn't even remember the last time he had had someone to play chess with. Lord knows Christine wouldn't play even if her life depended on it.

He sighed, his head inclining to rest against the back of the armchair. Why did his mind always return to Christine? Why couldn't he just forget her and move on? Why did his brain insisting on reminding him when it only brought him more pain?

Not many things scared him in this life. He had seen and experienced too much to be fainthearted. But three years ago, when he sat in the darkness of the pathway behind his mirror and listening to the mob tearing through his house in search of him, he had realized that there were two things that actually did scare him.

The first one was himself. He had let his love for Christine be replaced by an obsession that ravaged his heart and soul every waking moment until he slipped over the edge of madness. At the end, he had no longer any control of his actions. He had known that he had gone too far, that he should stop it at once, but it was impossible for him to think clearly. It was like being a prisoner inside your own body, seeing everything that went on around you and still being unable to restrain yourself. It was like being possessed. Now afterwards, the dark and menacing side of him that had been displayed three years ago scared the death out of him. If he was capable of something like that, he must truly be the monster everyone had accused him of being his whole life.

The other thing that scared him was to be alone. Before that whole affair with Christine, loneliness was something he had appreciated and longed for. But over the years, the walls in his cave seemed to close in on him and the rooms seemed to grow smaller. The silence in his home was suddenly overwhelming and he couldn't even bring himself to play the piano anymore to make the music heard above the silence. For all the death and destruction he had caused, he was damned to this prison of silence and solitude for the rest of his wretched life.

"But you're not alone right now, are you?" A small voice inside his head whispered to him and he immediately got to his feet to rush up to Serena's room, making sure she was still there.

The wild beating of his heart slowed down considerably when his eyes fell upon her sleeping form. No, right now he wasn't alone in this prison. Right now, an angel had willingly followed him down here and on top of that spent the better part of the night in front of his chessboard, talking and joking with him as if they had known each other for ages and not a couple of months.

It was possible that she didn't realize how happy that made him. For once in his life, someone wanted to spend some time with him without being forced or acting out of fear. That was more than he could have ever hoped for.

For a moment, confusion and fear welled up inside her when she opened her eyes. It was too dark and the familiar feeling of panic threatened to overtake her. Then she took a deep, calming breath when realizing she was in the bedroom Erik had showed her to earlier. She slowly got out of bed and treaded lightly over to the drapes that hung in front of the opening.

In the living room, the fire had burned down to glowing pieces of wood and most of the candelabras had been put out. It was only at the organ that candles still burned and lit up the form of a man sitting in front of it, with his fingers resting on the keys without playing. His whole appearance spoke of the longing he felt for letting his fingers dance over the keys again but still an aura of hesitation and fear surrounded him.

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and made sure her hair looked presentable. Then she called out to him softly, not wanting to scare him.

"Erik?"

He turned towards her, his eyes serious and sad.

"Yes Serena?"

She began descending the steps, coming to a halt in front of him.

"Why won't you play?"

He sighed and averted his eyes to the floor, his head turning back to the organ.

"I can't anymore," he answered, his voice cracking as if he was on the verge of tears.

"Why?"

She didn't know if it was right of her to push him like this. Maybe he would have told her out of his own one day, but she really wanted to know. Meg had said that Christine had been spellbound by Erik's skills with the organ and Serena wanted to know what it was with his music that had everyone so captivated. How did he play to make everyone stop in their tracks, unable to move on until he held up? How could he write music that pinpointed exactly what people felt?

"I don't have any inspiration. My music has abandoned me. Two years ago, I gave up. I could no longer write and every note I played sounded sour. It's no use."

"Is it because of… her?"

His eyes returned to hers and she felt shivers run down her back. Suddenly, his eyes had turned from sad to angry. He rose from his position on the bench, his height making her feel small.

"Christine, you mean? Don't presume that you know anything about her. Don't think you understand in the least what I felt for her. Don't you ever think for a second that you can imagine how it feels to have the one you love turn away from you in fear and repulsion!"

He stepped closer to her, his eyes sparkling dangerously.

"Erik, you're scaring me," she whispered and took a step back.

As quickly as it had appeared, the anger in his eyes vanished and the old sadness returned. He looked completely horrified when realizing what he had been about to do.

"Serena, I'm so sorry… I didn't mean… I would never…" He abruptly cut himself off and turned his back on her with a strangled cry. "What is happening to me? Will I never be free of that horrid feeling of anger that I can not control?"

He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders starting to shake with sobs. Every wall around his heart to keep others at a distance was gone now. Every pretend, every mask had been dropped. He was sick of trying to be strong when all he wanted to do was to scream until his voice became nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

All his anger came from sadness, she realized. He wasn't dangerous but he was desperately in need of someone to talk to. Someone who wouldn't walk out on him like Christine had done.

She walked over to him, carefully placing her small, delicate hand on his back. She moved to stand in front of him, removing the hands that hid his face. She felt her heart contracting when seeing the tears trickling their way down his face. His dark blue eyes screamed to her for help and in that moment he looked like a small child, with his quivering lips and tear streaked face.

Without saying a word, she embraced him tightly, standing on her tiptoes to bury her face in the soft skin on his throat. Ever so slowly, his arms circled around her waist until he held her as tightly as one would hold on to the railing of a sinking ship. His scent filled her senses, that summer day in her childhood flashing across her memory again and suddenly she recognized it. He smelled like the flowers she used to gather out on the meadow beside their house. Moon tears, her mother would call them since they only bloomed in the moonlight and was pale blue like tears. They had a very special scent, those flowers. "It's the scent of adventure," her father would say to her. "It's the kind of scent that promises you danger and hardship but at the same time the greatest happiness you will ever know."

Her father's voice echoed in her mind as she held Erik close and let him cry out on her shoulder. Would it be an adventure to stay with Erik? Would it bring her danger and hardship but at the same time the greatest happiness she would ever know? She had no answers to the questions, just that small sensation in her stomach that fluttered like butterflies whenever she touched him. The one that was fluttering inside her right now.

A/N: Please R&R! I thank you for every opinion, the good and the bad and thanks for reading this. I will try to update soon. Love you all!