Disclaimer: I don't own POTO.
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CIRCLE OF TRUST
"Erik, have you ever seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail?"
Erik cracked open one sunken blue eye and found Brooke leaning into his coffin with a disgustingly cheerful grin on her face.
"Are you ill?" Erik croaked. He reached out and laid a chilly palm against Brooke's forehead.
"Not at all. Why?" she replied.
"Because it has to be an absurdly unholy hour of the night in order for you to be awake before me."
"So?"
"So why the bloody hell are you acting so out of character?"
"Do I need a reason? Just answer my first question."
Erik gritted his teeth. "No. I do not know this Monty Python of whom you speak."
With that he shoved her away, listening with malicious satisfaction to the heavy thud of a young woman hitting the bedroom floor. His eyes hadn't been closed two seconds before Brooke was back. A cycle of pushing and rebounding continued for a good fifteen minutes. At last Erik gave in, launched himself out of his coffin, grabbed his black robe, and followed Brooke into the Lothlorien tent where she had set up the computer. Anna was still curled up beneath a mountain of down blankets. Brooke kicked her.
"Get up," the brunette commanded.
"Why are you doing this to meeeeeeeee?" the blankets whined.
"You are not alone in your suffering," Erik remarked dryly as he settled down on a cushion. At the sound of that beloved voice, Anna's bedraggled head popped out from the blankets.
"So you're here, too? How did she manage that?"
"Persistence."
"Ah. Well, misery loves company." The recalcitrant redhead slithered out from her little den, dragging a flannel blanket with her, and nestled next to Erik. The action itself was nothing new. Anna had a habit of snuggling Erik, but this time it meant something different to him. His heart quivered oddly and he began to worry that she would find his bony shoulder uncomfortable.
In the meantime Brooke started the DVD…
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One Monty Python movie later…
"What did you think?" Brooke chirped.
"I think I've lost half of my brain cells," Erik muttered groggily.
"You just don't appreciate the genius of that humor."
"If that was genius then Carlotta is the best singer on earth."
Anna blinked sleepily and said, "I once owned that crazy rabbit."
"Really?"
"Yesh. She was a sweet little thing until she hit puberty."
"What happened?"
"She growled and attacked our legs. She was rather violent when in the throes of passion," Anna explained through a yawn.
"Pleasant thought."
"New movie!" Brooke cried.
Erik groaned, "I'd like to keep the other half of those cells, please."
"Hush!"
With all due respect to Napoleon Dynamite, it isn't the most stimulating movie. Thus, by the end of the opening credits Anna and Erik were sound asleep.
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In the upper floors of the Opera House…
Raoul de Chagny crept carefully down the opulent halls of the Opera House. He was as tense as a kid in a haunted house, expecting to see Christine, or worse, the managers come flying around a corner at any moment. He steered clear of Box Five. His memories of that place were harrowing, to say the least. The faints sounds of the rehearsals floated up from the auditorium. All at once a voice came through a wall.
"Hello, Raoul."
The Vicomte shrieked and jumped five feet into the air.
"Calm down!" the voice hissed.
Raoul choked on the next scream, leaning against the talking wall to settle his racing heart.
"Go to the roof," said the voice.
Raoul nodded and shakily made his way to the roof. Brooke was waiting for him; or rather the Spirit was waiting, haphazardly sprawled in the bronze arms of Apollo.
"You scare easily," she observed.
"It was hardly fair of you to sneak up on me like that," Raoul retorted.
Brooke nimbly leapt down from her perch. Raoul eyed her appearance with incredulity. She was in her traditional haunting garb: black shirt, trousers, and cloak, black Converse sneakers, and her white silk mask.
"Please take off the mask," Raoul pleaded. Brooke complied and the young nobleman was noticeably relieved to see her face.
"Shall we sit down?" Brooke asked. She gestured to an outcropping conveniently shadowed and out of sight from the door.
"Where are your cohorts?" Raoul asked.
"Sawing logs in the lair."
"What?"
"Never mind. They won't wake up for a while and that's what matters. Do you want to hear this story?"
Raoul nodded, "Yes…I've a feeling that I'm going to be in over my head, but I want to know."
Brooke shook her head, "You're going to find this really hard to believe."
"At this point, I'm ready to believe in Saint Nicholas again."
"All right…here goes nothing. You've probably figured out that Anna and I are not related to Erik in anyway."
"Definitely sensed that."
"Well, Anna and I aren't sisters to each other either. We're cousins on our fathers' side."
"What!"
Brooke wrung her hands and squirmed. "Okay, I'm just gonna spew it all out and explain later. Anna and I were transported to Erik's lair by a freak thunderstorm from Montana in America. We're time travelers from the year 2005."
Raoul blinked. "Merde."
"Yeah, I know."
"I don't even know what to say…" The Vicomte leapt to his feet and began to pace in a circle. "I can't say that your story is entirely implausible."
Brooke's eyes locked on his face. "You actually believe me?"
"Well, either you're insane or you're telling the truth. You can't be lying because you could surely come up with a better a lie."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Brooke muttered.
"The insanity option is a definite possibility. You have been under the influence of Erik for several months."
Brooke lifted her chin and declared with defiance, "In the brilliant words of my cousin: I was perfectly demented prior to meeting the Opera Ghost."
Raoul paused in his pacing and quirked an eyebrow at her. "Indeed. Well, if you are not insane then I'm sure you would have proof of your assertions."
"Yes, but everything is down in the lair. Oh, wait…remember that magic bag I had with me the night of the fireworks?"
Raoul stared at her in surprise, "That was you? Never mind, of course it was, but now that you mention it I do remember that bag. It was empty and then you pulled a blanket and clean shirt from it."
"Exactly!" Brooke squealed.
Raoul nodded. "Maybe you're not insane after all."
The brunette quirked an eyebrow at him, "Never count that out of the options."
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In the batcave…
Anna awoke to find herself staring into a pair of beautiful blue eyes…unfortunately they did not belong to Erik. Ayesha, in typical cat fashion, was sitting on the girl's chest and staring intently into her face. Anna squeaked in shock and sat bolt upright. The indignant feline shot away to her own bed, twitching her chocolate colored tail in irritation.
Erik, who was slumped against the wall, shook himself awake. He blinked once or twice before glaring at Anna.
"What did you do?" he growled, his lovely voice marred by the post-sleepiness.
"Why do you assume that I did anything?" Anna shrieked defensively.
"Experience."
"Well, it was Ayesha's fault this time."
Erik only grunted in reply and gracefully staggered to his feet. He stretched his long, lean frame, with Anna watching appreciatively from the sidelines.
"What time is it?" he asked.
Anna checked the computer. "Two."
"In the afternoon?"
"According to the computer. It's not like you can tell from down here."
Erik jumped up and stomped across the room. "I can't believe I slept the day away like a sloth."
"Hey, I resent that comparison."
"No…you represent it is all."
"Apparently even a great insomniac like yourself is susceptible to the narcotic powers of Napoleon Dynamite."
"Are you always this difficult in the morning?" Erik growled as his dug through his bureau drawers.
"No. Only in the afternoon."
Erik grumbled some expletives under his breath and turned to face the frumpy girl, his hands full of clothes.
"If you don't mind, mon merle, I'd like to have some privacy."
Anna shrugged. "Sure…I'm hungry." She shuffled out of the room and made a beeline for the kitchen. Feeling lazy, she walked around snacking on anything edible that she happened across. She knew it would be awhile before she would gain entrance back into the master bedroom. Erik was very methodical in his daily rituals. It was a little while before Anna noticed something was amiss….
"Erik!" The door banged open and the girl came flying into the bedroom.
The Phantom nearly squeaked in indignation as he jerked his robe over his shirtless chest.
"Are you incapable of knocking?" he snarled.
"Brooke's missing!"
Erik dropped the robe. "What do you mean by missing?"
"I mean she's not here…in the house. I even checked the torture chamber."
As the words left her mouth, Anna realized exactly where Brooke was and, more importantly, whom she was with. The redhead groaned, wishing she had given the situation more careful thought before bursting in on Erik, although seeing him without a shirt was always a plus. Meanwhile, Erik had quickly finished dressing and was readying himself to go haunting.
"Are you going to look for her?" Anna whispered.
"Of course. I don't understand why she would skulk away like that…" Erik paused a moment then fixed Anna with a fierce glare. "You know where she is, don't you?"
Anna couldn't bring her self to look him in the eyes, preferring instead to stare at her bare feet. "Um…well…I'm not totally sure about it…"
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The Opera Roof…
Brooke had finally convinced Raoul of her honesty and the two were cozily ensconced in on the bench when the door banged open and out flew the Phantom of the Opera, dragging the Raven behind him.
Erik's livid blue eyes locked on Brooke's face. He started towards the frightened couple. Raoul was on his feet, ready to fight the Phantom if need be, but Erik never looked at him. When Erik was within a few feet of the Spirit he stopped. The tension in the air was so thick they could almost taste it. At last Erik jerked Anna forward and threw her at Raoul's feet. For the first time he looked his enemy in the eye.
"Take them both and don't ever come back," hissed the Angel of Music.
He spun on his heel and marched back to the door. Anna stumbled to her feet, tangled in her cloak and the straps of the Poppins Bag. She attempted to chase after Erik, but it was no use. She fell flat on her face and he never stopped, not even when she called his name.
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In the batcave…
Erik burst through the front door, storming in like a wrathful deity. With the black cloak billowing behind him and his blue eyes burning with rage, he was enough to frighten even the most enamored of phangirls. Growling like a wounded lion, the Phantom went to the Lothlorien tent and began to rip the gossamer curtains, rending them from their rods and tearing the fabric to shreds. It was quite a sight, especially when he started stabbing the down pillows. Just as he started in on the mattresses, a curt feminine voice spoke.
"Ahem."
Erik whirled around. Through a rain of feathers, he saw a petite, young woman, with long brown hair and dressed in a silver cloak, standing beside the coffin.
"Who are you?" he demanded, slipping his hand into his own cloak to grab the Punjab lasso.
The strange woman smiled and replied, "I am the Authoress."
Erik's eyes narrowed in suspicion. He fought and spit his way past the feathers to get a better look at this latest intruder. The hood of her cloak obscured all of her face save her mouth, which was currently twisted into a very snarky smirk.
"Remove your hood, mademoiselle!" he commanded.
The snarky smirk quirked into a mocking grin as she said, "I don't think you understand, Erik. I am the Authoress. Your Authoress."
Erik blinked at her. Suddenly, he felt very tired and heavy-hearted. He released a pitiful groan and stumbled back against the wall.
"Look," he explained to the Authoress, "I don't have the energy to deal with this. I've just had my heart smashed to pieces…again…So if you would be so kind as to show yourself out, I would sincerely appreciate it."
"I know what happened today, Erik. That's why I'm here."
"What do you mean?"
"My name is Misty. I'm the one—"
All at once, a light bulb went off over Erik's masked head. He jabbed a long, elegant finger at Misty and gasped, "You're the one who sends all those infernal flying notes!"
"Congrats on that astute observation, my emaciated friend."
"Then you're responsible for everything that's happened to me!"
"Well, not everything. Leroux is responsible for most of it. I've been responsible since Anna and Brooke showed up."
At the mention of the cousins, Erik lost it again. He lunged at Misty, intent on punjabbing her, but it was to no avail. For some reason, Misty remained invincible to all attempts at assault. After five futile minutes, Erik gave up and resorted to sobbing in front of the organ.
"Get a grip, will you?" snapped Misty.
Erik turned on her.
"How do you expect ME to get a GRIP!" he screamed. "They broke the circle of trust! I should have known better. I did know better, but I wanted it so badly that I let them in. I let her in!"
Erik railed on in this manner until he hadn't breath left for tiniest curse. Misty stood unmoved.
"Are you finished angsting now? Good. Now, allow me to point something out to you: this is a humor phic."
"So?"
"So that means all the angst is marring the fun. If you want to angst, tough luck, you should have enrolled for a different phic."
"What do you expect me to do?" Erik sulked, realizing that there was no way around this silver-cloaked obstacle.
"I expect you to go track down those girls…right now."
And with that, Misty vanished.