There are probably a million excuses I could give to you for neglecting this story for so long, but I won't bore you with them. I'm sorry. On the bright side, today is ALW's musical of Phantom of the Opera's birthday! I don't own Phantom in case you were wondering. Enjoy!
The four of them stood in the cold night air, trying to delay the inevitable moment when they would have to say goodbye. There was still a lot that they wanted to say to each other, and the silent questions hung in the air unanswered. Some of the questions were for private moments that didn't seem likely to come at this point. The crowd around them had thinned quickly; people weren't apt to linger outside very long.
Meg began to cough, and the sound cut through the air sharply. The other three turned to her with concern. Meg's coughs only multiplied and echoed around them unceasingly and seemingly everywhere. There was really nothing they could do until the coughing fit let up. Meg willed the spasm to stop; she could barely catch her breath between each cough. She managed to take a handkerchief from Christine to cough into, and she noted gratefully that there was nothing red on it.
Her coughing slowed down in intensity after another minute, and then finally stopped. She was breathing a little hard, and her face was flushed. Her mind drifted back to her cousins' house because she remembered that two of them were sick.
"I'm fine," she said with a weak smile. It was obvious from the expressions on the three faces in front of her that none of them believed her.
"She should lie down," Erik said, "I don't think she should travel for now."
"I'm fine!" Meg protested again. It bothered her that he spoke as if she wasn't there.
"Where could she go to lie down?" Madame Giry asked, "We should get back to Jacques and Marie's house."
After a moment of thought, Erik replied, "She could come back with us. I have medicine under the opera, and she shouldn't go anywhere."
There was a note of command in his voice that none of them protested or questioned. It was a tone that he used during a lesson with Christine or in a discussion about the mask.
"Thank you," Madame Giry said finally with a curt nod.
The three of them walked around the opera in silence. Meg's coughing fit had quieted them all for the moment. Even when they were inside and walking through a dark passage, none of them broke the silence. Meg felt a little fearful in the dark, but she didn't voice her thoughts aloud.
It wasn't until they were in the house on the lake that the silence was broken. Meg was still slightly amazed to find herself where she was, and Christine was surprised at how proud she was that Meg was astonished. It was a strange feeling for her to be so comfortable in a place where Meg was a stranger.
Before they went to bed, Christine gave Meg a little tour. When Meg took in the sight of the coffin and the notes of the Dies Irae on the wall in Erik's room, she realized with a shudder that Christine hadn't really been stretching the truth when she said that Erik was crazy. Just who was he? There was a lot to this masked man that she didn't know, but she now found herself in his house.
The Girys borrowed nightgowns from Christine for the night, and went to bed quickly. Christine wanted to talk to Erik alone before she went to sleep when they were alone. A lot had happened that night.
"Will Meg get well?" she asked anxiously. Because some of her first memories were of her father getting sick and dying, she always worried when someone close to her was ill.
"Yes, but she'll get worse before she gets better, I'm afraid," Erik replied softly. He had been very quiet since he suggested that the Girys come home with them, and Christine recognized the mood.
"How are you?" she asked in the same serious tone. She hopped that he wasn't actually mad at her for telling Meg about him.
"I am fine," he replied, but there was something in his voice that wasn't as reassuring. Christine thought that he would tell her if he was mad, so there was probably something else going through his head. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," she said.
When Christine got up the next morning, part of her thought that all of the events of the night before were a dream. However, she saw Erik's cloak draped on the back of a chair, and she knew it was not the case. It was strange for her to think that someone other than Erik was in the house with them at that moment.
"Where's Erik?" Meg asked when Christine made her way into the kitchen to eat breakfast. Madame Giry was sitting at the table, too.
"Probably composing," Christine answered. She was used to his habits by now, but she knew that Meg wasn't. "How do you feel?"
"Fine," Meg answered automatically. Christine knew Meg was lying. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her forehead was shiny with a thin layer of sweat. She had a fever since some time in the middle of the night. When they finished eating, Meg went back to bed only after a few feeble protests.
Christine spent the rest of the morning sitting at Meg's bedside, and Meg told her that they needed to talk.
"Tell me about Erik," she said.
"You met him. What do you want to know?" Christine asked. Meg gave her a look she was familiar with, the I-honestly-don't know-why-I-keep-you-around look.
"You know what I mean," Meg said.
"There isn't much to tell," Christine innocently proclaimed.
"Are you and Erik..." Meg trailed off suggestively.
"No!" Christine exclaimed.
"Do you want to?" Meg asked playfully, but she wanted to know what Christine's answer would be.
"I...um...maybe," Christine stammered. She blushed; she knew she was cornered. "Margaret Giry!" She took a lighthearted swipe at Meg.
Meg dodged it, and suddenly looked up when she saw someone standing in the doorway. Christine knew who it was when the person spoke, and she blushed instantly. How much of the conversation did they hear?
Hopefully, I'll get the next chapter up a lot sooner, and please review! Also, I am looking for a beta, so if anyone wants to beta this story, please PM me or say so in a review.