A/N Here it is guys...this killed me because really what does one do in a train for 24 hours! Anyway hope it works. Can I just say a huge thanks to everyone who has been following and reviewing this...it keeps me on my toes. A special mention has to go to Ace of Gallifrey for the inspiring comments and invaluable suggestions... Enjoy!
Chapter 7
Barely a minute had passed since they had left Paris when an efficient sounding rap on the door of the cabin announced the steward. Meg sprang from the banquette like she had been burned, tearing her hand from Erik's. She moved off the seat to let the man in but not before noticing that Erik had disappeared; only the briefest movement of the sleeping compartment door and the breath of air he left in his wake betraying him. How the devil does he do that? She really wanted him to show her how to move like that someday. Straightening her dress and fixing the hated bonnet she opened the door.
"Bonjour Madame, I am Gaston and it is my pleasure to welcome you to the Orient Express. I trust your quarters are satisfactory?" A slip of a man sporting a moustache and white gloves bowed exaggeratedly in the doorway; his name sown into his waistcoat in gold lettering.
"Yes, quite... thank you."
"And Monsieur?" His party piece continued, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of her travelling companion.
"My employer is resting. He is not a well man and should not be disturbed. I am sure you understand." She did not want him being all efficient and attentive knocking at all hours of the day and night. Erik would be a nervous wreck!
"But of course! You are the nurse, yes?" He looked to be congratulating himself on his brilliant deduction while gesturing to her wretched hat. "The poor man. It is regrettable he is not to enjoy the journey in the full of his health. You shall no doubt prefer to dine privately and as most of our guests will be in the Restaurant car, I can assure you a peaceful and quiet evening." He smiled brightly, utterly in his element.
Oh just get on with it! Meg knew he had to do this but she really just wanted him to say his piece and leave. Mmmm...she could smell warm pain au chocolat somewhere nearby and her mouth was watering.
"Dinner is usually served at nine but can of course be altered to suit your needs. Shall I have your lunch ready for one? In the meantime I shall leave you with the morning papers and some refreshments." Gaston swept back out only to return a second later with a small cart filled with pastries, fruit and coffee. "Please do not hesitate to ring the bell on the wall should you require anything at all." With another of his signature bows he was gone.
Finally! Meg fell on the pastries hunting for the one she knew hid the gooey warm chocolate inside. "Come out, come out wherever you are" she sang to the door of the sleeping compartment, deliberately waving her pastry and the coffee pot in the same direction.
The door opened a fraction, the toe of one boot appearing at the floor and the fingers of one hand wrapping around the frame. Finally they were joined by the rest of him as the smell of buttery croissants and steaming coffee became too much for Erik to resist.
"I thought he would never leave!" he exclaimed and moved to mount an assault on the huge basket of pastries. Meg swatted his hand away before he got near it, a warning look in her eyes. "Anything but the pain au chocolat. In fact you can have everything with cinnamon in as I cannot abide it but do NOT touch the chocolate ones. Coffee?" She finished her threat with a bright smile and proceeded to pour two cups, handing one to Erik. She realised as she handed it over that he was staring at her in the most peculiar way that was almost a smile. "What? What do you find so amusing?" She would be damned if he would smile at her for no reason especially as he never smiled. It was decidedly unsettling.
"Your face...it looks quite delicious." His eye was sparkling with what could only be described as devilment and the left side of his mouth was turned up so that he was positively smirking at her now and she did not like it one bit. She stamped her foot and marched into the other compartment to the mirror above the washstand and looked at her reflection. Damn you to hell Erik! She had chocolate all over her face most specifically on her nose and chin. She ripped a towel from the pile underneath, wet one corner and scrubbed violently at her skin until she was sure she had torn flesh. She could hear a low rumbling sound from next door and spun on her heel pulling the door open with force. It was not possible! Never. She would kill him. Erik was standing where she left him chuckling to himself, shaking his head and more than half way through one of her precious pain au chocolat!
Erik turned and feasted his eye on the picture of irritation standing before him. Her cheeks were flushed with anger and her nose and chin red from the scrubbing she had inflicted. Hands on her hips, she looked up at him with her eyes narrowed in fury. He countered with a raised eyebrow. She could stamp her feet all she liked around him but it would get her nowhere! He place his hands on her shoulders and steered her to the banquette, giving her a little push so she would sit down then wordlessly he handed over her cup of coffee. Erik picked that morning's edition of Paris Matin from the cart and seated himself next to Meg placing the basket of pastries between them. Not a word passed between them and he considered it vital to Meg's current frame of mind that it remain so.
Curling her feet under her on the banquette she tried desperately to make herself comfortable determined to not let Erik get to her. She leaned over the basket to see what he was reading, his silence infuriating her. The front page declared "Populaire Madman Presumed Dead!" and she read on. The police having found no trace of a body under the Opera House and assuming he had no way of escape had come to the conclusion that the masked intruder who had kidnapped the future Vicomtesse de Chagny had drowned in the lake. Incompetent Fools! She supposed she should be grateful; there would be no bloodhounds on their heels. She continued reading...the famous tenor Ubaldo Piangi had lost his life but had actually been strangled, the police believed; so the masked man could take his place. Oh no! Had Erik nothing to say? Surely he had read it too. She pulled the paper from his hands and frowned at him.
"Yes?" Erik enquired, raising his eyebrow as if he was speaking to a four year old.
"Well? Did you read it? According to this you are dead. AND you murdered Piangi! I do not know whether to laugh or cry. Erik?"
"Do not believe everything you read in the papers ma petite. It should be quite obvious to you that I am not dead . As for Piangi...it was regrettable. He should not have died, I only rendered him unconscious and I do NOT make mistakes. At least they will not be looking for us so there is no need for tears." He truly believed the fat tenor was still breathing when he dropped him to the floor behind the stage two nights ago. Two nights? Is that all it had been? It felt like an eternity and was getting longer by the minute no thanks to the spitting cat sitting next to him.
Meg knew that Erik or more correctly The Phantom had killed that lecherous creep Joseph Buquet and if she was completely honest she was almost grateful for it. He had been an irrefutable menace, praying on anything with a skirt, constantly drunk and prone to fits of rage that turned quickly to violence. She and her mother had seen with her own eyes the result of some of his best 'work'; black eyes, broken jaws and one young chorus girl would never dance again thanks to him. The Opera Ghost had done every woman at the Populaire a favour when he let the head fly man swing from his neck. But Piangi? His only crime was getting in the way. Yet Erik claimed not to have murdered him. She was inclined to believe that he was incapable of lying yet could he really know what he had done that night? He mind had been fractured, lost to the minutiae of his great scheme to win over the heart of Christine. Would she have been worth it? Somehow Meg doubted that the reality would have been something Erik could have handled. Christine would never have questioned him, challenged him or scolded him. She believed her young friend would probably have been reduced to a whimpering mess, her emotions always so close to the surface that she would have crumbled in the face of his instability. Not entirely emotionally secure herself; Christine would have been ill equipped to handle the shifting moods and persuasive personalities that fought for dominance in the man sitting next to her. Erik? He would have been bored rigid within a week! Still she felt sad that he had lost someone he considered dear to him. She stared vaguely out the window to the scenery flying past, France bursting to life with the onset of Spring. What would Venice be like now? She could not imagine a city built entirely on the water.
It was all too much for Erik. Having been distracted from his problems for the better part of the past two days it seemed he was now at liberty to fall apart. Meg was currently incapable of carrying a conversation due in no small part to his declaration as they left Paris and the content of the morning papers; which he conceded was probably for the best. He was not in the habit of blurting things out as he had but it would not be the first time she had driven him to say something unexpected. He had only wanted her to know that he realised how much she had done for him. He just wished he had not made her cry. She always seemed so tough, so unbreakable that it was a shock to see he could reduce her to tears with his own words.
As promised, Gaston reappeared promptly at one to deliver yet more food. Meg could have sworn Erik could hear him coming from the opposite end of the train as he vanished not a second before the steward knocked on the door. Lunch was uneventful; Meg careful not to give Erik any more opportunity to laugh at her eating habits. The steward had informed her they would stop at Innsbruck in the morning where they would need to have their papers ready for Swiss border control, finally arriving in Venice that evening. She was beginning to wish never to be on a train again. She longed for the space to put on her practice shoes and stretch her limbs. It had been days since she danced and she was feeling on edge. Ever since he had held her hand and said those words there had been a variety of uncomfortable silences, neither she nor Erik knowing quite what to say to one another. She was tired of arguing with him and her head hurt from trying to figure out what madness had overtaken him the night of the fire. She suggested he try to sleep for a while partly because she knew he needed it but also so she could breathe again and maybe rest herself. His presence in the tiny space was so totally overwhelming and she was incapable of relaxing around him. She cursed the oversight that meant she forgot to take a blanket from the other room before he had gone in so she would have to make do with her coat. Curling up on the banquette she pulled her coat over her head waiting for the motion of the train to lull her to sleep.
He was so tired. He could not form coherent thoughts anymore and his limbs felt like lead. He hoped Meg would sleep as he was fast realising that her fuse shortened alarmingly when she was weary. Erik removed his boots, coat and vest and climbed onto the small bunk, barely wide enough for his broad frame and stretched out his arms like a bird testing its wings. He had absolutely nowhere to be for the next few hours so with his new bodyguard keeping watch in the next room he supposed it would be alright to close his eyes for just a little while.
Opening into darkness, Erik's left eye tried to focus on a tiny shaft of light below him. Where was he? He could not remember the last time he had woken in darkness, always leaving candles burning before snatching brief moments of slumber, usually draped over his organ. The rhythmic clatter of train on tracks permeated his consciousness bringing him fully awake. Venice! He had slept far longer han he had ever done before and now he remembered where he was going. He also remembered why. He recalled the rose scented dream that had been marred by flame filled nightmares, sparkling crystals raining from the sky. He touched a hand to his face, bound in cloth to hide his ruined cheek and relived the moment he had been betrayed; the sweet face of the one he proclaimed to love twisting unpleasantly as she sealed his fate. Anger built inside him as he recognised the horrified gasps and screams of his captive audience; the feeling of air touching the right side of his face, barely registering his mask and wig floating aimlessly to the stage far below. Erik's heart began to pound a leaden beat as he walked through his nightmare like the ghost he felt. Reliving every second with heightened senses, he saw the moment the chandelier ripped through the dome as he dropped through the floor with the wind rushing past his ears falling, falling, falling with his love in his arms. No! No! No! Make it stop! She could never do that to me. Liar! She would never betray me!
Tears flooding through the soaked bandage he clasped his hands to his face to try and fight the images that would not stop. His eyes felt like they would burst out of their sockets and his head pounded from the blood boiling through his veins. Curling into a ball and wrapping his arms around himself Erik tried to shut the memories out. Let me be. Stop this torture. Stay with me...help me make the music...
Shivering uncontrollably, his shoulders quaking and teeth chattering; he rolled to face away from the light on the floor praying for the darkness to envelope him. A low moan rumbled deep inside his chest with a pressure that he could not force down. With a desperate intake of breath Erik gave the unwelcome cry a voice and found he could not stop.
Meg sprang from her uncomfortable position curled like a cat under her coat. Erik! She had jumped up at the roar thumping at her ears even before her eyes had opened. Skidding to a halt at the door she inched it gingerly ajar not wanting a repeat of the last time she had approached him in the dark. "Erik," she called softly. "ERIK!"
Nothing.
She widened the gap in the door letting the light flood across the floor and up to where he lay. He faced the wall, powerful tremors travelling violently from his shoulders all the way down his back. She could make out the curve of his spine through the fine cotton that was now transparent against his fevered skin. Oh Erik.
"Erik" Meg tried again to get through his nightmare so he would hear her.
Nothing.
Unable to help herself, tears sprang to her own eyes at the sight before her. She could not bear it. He was in so much pain and she did not know how to make it stop for him. Pull yourself together Meg; you are no use to him if you fall apart too!
Swiping the moisture from her eyes she bit her lip, moved closer to the bunk and gripped his shoulders in her hands. The reverberation from his chest worked its way through her hands into her ribcage until she could feel every wave of pain, every shudder, and every tremble. "Erik, stop this. It is Meg, MEG!" His breathing hitched slightly and she moved closer getting right behind him. Keeping her right hand just below his neck she moved her left hand slowly from his shoulder along his bent arm to lay it against the hand that was holding his face in a death grip. Tilting her face down close she whispered into his ear, pressing her fingers gently against his. "Ehhrrik"
A low moan escaped as another shudder overtook him. "Shshshshsh...Ehhrrik... let it go. Breathe." Little by little the shivering subsided punctuated by the odd hitch in his breath. Gradually he allowed her fingers to slip between his and Meg was able to gently prise his hand away from his face.
"Meg?" Erik's voice was barely a whisper, having stretched his vocal cords to their limit.
"Yes, who else? You woke me up thank you very much!" Meg attempted to lighten the mood.
"I...I did not mean to...to disturb you. You did not have to come in. You should not have come in." He was mortified yet again at her witnessing his total failure to keep himself together. Would he always be a shuddering mess in her eyes?
"Erik do you think me completely heartless? I was only teasing about you waking me! I found you in a far worse state than this remember?" She shifted slightly and moved to kneel on the carpet beside him; her left arm still draped over one colossal shoulder and her hand trapped in his like a lifeline. She could feel his breathing slowly returning to normal, his heartbeat thudding reassuringly steady against her chest. She was not exactly comfortable but she would stay like this as long as he needed her to.
Erik struggled to push the horrific images from his broken mind and concentrate instead on the feel of his little friend's warm hand in his, her tiny body held close to his back. The shame he felt at being so weak was overpowered by the feeling of being cared for, looked after, something he had only ever felt since she had come to find him. She made him feel...safe.
Please GO AWAY! An insistent rapping from next door shattered the first moment of true peace Erik had felt in months and he wanted to scream. He felt Meg pull her hand from his and the shiver creeping up his spine at the loss of her warmth.
"That will be Gaston with dinner, I had no idea it was so late." Meg was all efficiency again as she made to leave Erik's side to answer the door. "I will see to him, come out when you are ready" she whispered softly to the darkness.
When Erik had finally built up enough courage to face her again he pulled himself up from the tiny bunk and dressed for dinner. His bandages had begun to unravel and were soaked with tears and sweat but he daren't remove them. How could he expect anyone to look at him let alone eat without his mask? When he was sure the impeccably timed Gaston had left he hesitantly opened the connecting door and let the aroma of well cooked food entice him into Meg's company for dinner.
Poor Erik! Meg winced at the sight of her indomitable friend's face, the yards of bandage coming apart and obviously uncomfortable. She would leave him be to have something to eat and then deal with them later.
Dinner passed without event; neither able to each much of anything, the past hours events weighing heavily on both of their minds. Erik wanted to hide from her knowing eyes but realising it was pointless as she had seen and heard enough already. He dearly wished to smother the part of him that could not contend with the demons in his head. Meg wanted to scream at the indignity of it. She knew he hated her seeing him when he fell apart but equally that it had helped in some small way. She was afraid of leaving him alone again lest he succumb to terrible nightmares when he slept through the night.
"Do you think you would mind very much if I stayed in the spare bunk tonight? I promise not to snore; it is just that I really do not feel altogether comfortable out on the banquette by myself all night..." She prayed he would not now suggest he sleep out in the lounge area instead but thought that his inherent necessity to protect her would win out.
Erik swallowed nervously as he envisioned a scantily clad and incredibly vulnerable Meg dreaming above him in the tiny room and thought he would mind very much indeed! Was she deliberately trying to kill him? But what could he say...he dare not refuse her. "If you must but I shall put you out if you chatter." Gruffly he acquiesced but certainly did not want her to think he was in any was happy about it.
Erik let Meg remove his bandages trying not to think about her being able to see his entire face and instead kept his eyes closed while she worked. She had somehow convinced him to leave them off while he slept arguing that he would be dreadfully uncomfortable if he kept them on. She was right again he supposed but he was uneasy knowing she would be not three feet away from his utterly naked face all night. He waited apprehensively in the lounge while Meg got into her bunk and listened for her to tell him it was safe to enter. He felt sick to his stomach suddenly and did not think he would find sleep again anytime soon.
Meg climbed up the tiny ladder to the top bunk and struggled out of her horrid navy dress in the dark. She left it draped over the end of her bed, the full skirt dangling like a curtain at the end of Erik's. Faster than she had ever undressed in her life she unlaced her corset and removed it from under her chemise complete with the bundles of cash she had been hiding there since earlier that morning. Oh the relief! She would have to sleep in her chemise but she did not care because that nasty stifling corset was gone. Falling back on her soft pillow she drew her tired body beneath the soft cool sheets and called out to the dark. "You can come in now!"
He was definitely going to be sick. He put out the gas lamps before pulling the door behind him and steadfastly ignoring anything higher than the top of his own bed. He sat down in the dark pulling his boots off once again, following them with his coat and vest. He did not dare remove anything else. Climbing under the sheets again he turned on his right side facing the wall indulging in the feeling of the soft cool linen on his sensitive skin. He could hear Meg breath gently above him in the pitch dark. He concentrated on listening to the sounds of her moving about, rustling the crisp sheets as she tried to get comfortable enough to sleep and then she started.
"Erik...tell me about Venice."
It was going to be an awfully long night.