I'm sorry about how late this is. The next chapter will hopefully be up sooner. I do not own The Phantom of the Opera. Enjoy!
Meg was walking down a passage alone when she heard footsteps behind her, and she paused to listen to them. The sound stopped when she did, and she turned around. There was no one there.
"Erik?" she called softly, even though she knew he'd make his presence known if he was there. After another moment, she whispered, "Henri?"
She saw him shuffle out from behind a corner and move towards her uncertainly.
"What do you want?" she asked, resenting the tremble in her voice.
"I want to talk to you," he said as warmly as he could. Meg felt herself relax involuntarily; she almost had to remind herself that he was threatening Erik.
"About what?" she asked, deciding not to reveal anything in case he hadn't heard her call Erik's name earlier.
Henri said, "Your friend Erik. He's told you about me." Meg thought he seemed a little less cordial now that Erik was the topic of conversation.
"I don't know an Erik. You must be thinking of someone else," Meg said, trying her best to look apologetic. A shadow fell across Henri's face.
"You don't have to pretend. I won't tell." He smiled at Meg, a picture of friendliness, and she hated the way she felt so comfortable around him.
"Unless he tells about you," she snapped, annoyed at his transparent attempt to get her on his side.
"I'm sorry, but I'm protecting everyone here. To have a killer roaming around, unchecked…"
"If you really wanted to protect everyone, you would have turned him in," Meg retorted, getting tired of the conversation.
"And create a fuss? I couldn't have that," Henri said with a languor that irked her.
"That's weak," Meg said shortly, trying to move around him.
He blocked her way easily and said, "Erik's weak if he won't show his face."
"He's deformed, so he wears a mask. You should at least know that much," Meg replied testily.
"I'm sorry. I just want to protect everyone," Henri said, giving her a sweet look that would have made her forgive him if she wasn't so irritated.
"Then what about Christine Daaé? She's under the opera with him all the time."
"We both know he'd never hurt her," Henri answered.
Meg added, "Or me. Or my mother."
"The four of you aren't the entire opera," Henri said, "even if you seem like the whole world to me, Meg."
Meg wasn't touched by what he said. "You're going deaf. You just don't want your secret out."
"Can you blame me?"
"No. I can't," Meg said, feeling a little empathy for Henri for the first time.
"Now you see it from my point of view. Goodnight, Meg." he said, blowing a kiss and walking away. She scowled at his back immaturely until he turned a corner farther down the hallway.
"Meg?" Erik hissed, startling her. He was inside the wall, but his voice seemed to be coming from everywhere at once.
"Did you hear all of that?" she asked quietly, as though Henri was still in earshot.
"Yes. Do you mind?"
"We were talking about you. I understand," she said truthfully. She was a bit unnerved that he was there, but she felt better that she wasn't really alone with Henri.
"I'm sorry you got pulled into this," Erik said.
"Why don't you just kill him?"
"I promised Christine."
"Do you think she'd mind if I killed him?" Meg asked sarcastically.
"Meg!" Erik hissed, "If she-"
"Relax. I was joking," Meg reassured him.
Erik replied with a soft, "Oh," after a long silence.
"I'll talk to you later," Meg said, eager to get to bed.
"Goodnight."
Meg slept easily that night, knowing there was someone watching out for her.
"Why does he keep looking at you like that?" Christine whispered to Meg during a rehearsal the next day.
"I told you what happened last night," Meg hissed back.
"I thought he'd be a little more subtle."
"Meg! Christine!" Madame Giry bared, "Quiet!"
"Sorry," they apologized in unison.
"Like Erik's subtle," Meg muttered.
Christine didn't reply; she had to start singing.
"Are you starting to agree with Henri?" Christine asked later.
"Of course not," Meg said quickly.
"You're beginning to sound like it," Christine observed.
"Excuse me?"
"You sound just like him!"
"I didn't mean it that way," Meg explained.
"It sounded like it," Christine said in a more apologetic tone.
Later that day, Erik came to Christine's dressing room. Meg's words about Henri had been replaying in his head all day. Even though she wasn't serious, he still thought that there might be some merit to them.
"I have a question for you," he said as a greeting.
"What?" she asked, a little frightened. She hadn't heard him come in.
"If Meg killed Henri, would you mind?"
"Of course. If anyone killed him, I'd mind."
Erik avoided her eyes, and Christine filled in the gaps herself.
"Don't tell me you're thinking of putting her up to it!" she exclaimed.
"I wasn't going to. I was just wondering, that's all," Erik said, surprised how distressed she was. "I'm sorry if I upset you,"
"I just don't want all of this to get worse," Chrisine said soothingly, cupping his mask with her hand.
"Do you think I do?" he asked, covering her hand with his. His hand was cold, and Christine shivered slightly.
"If they find out what he knew, they might blame me," Christine explained.
"Because of Don Juan Triumphant?" Erik asked.
"Yes. Even the ballerinas know something."
"It's my fault, then," Erik muttered darkly, moving his hand and turning away from her.
Before Christine could respond, he'd disappeared through the mirror. She could still feel a phantom tingle on the hand that had just been touching his mask.