Erik's body tensed when he saw the marks that covered her. Arabelle's neck was red, as if someone had been strangling her. Her wrists were bruised and another giant one on her head. He wanted badly to kill the bastard that had done this to her. He felt guilt flood through him as he realized he was there the whole time, thinking she was alright, that something like this wasn't happening. The way she had looked when the man threw her out was the worst part. She looked completely empty, numb. The way she collapsed as her legs gave way, the way she had grabbed at him like he was an attacker. The way she shook all the way home. It was almost too much.

As she drifted off to sleep, he lightly kissed her forehead then whispered in her ear."I'll keep you safe," He whispered in her ear as she drifted off to sleep. "Nothing is going to hurt you anymore, I promise." He lightly kissed her forehead.

"Shit!" Arabelle woke to the sound of the bells of the church. Erik startled awake looked up confused and alarmed.

"What?" Erik yelled in a panic. Arabelle jumped out of the bed and then stopped, looking down at herself, wearing nothing but one of Erik's shirts and her panties.

"What the hell am I wearing?" Erik just stopped and laughed, shaking his head.

"Since you seem fond of cross dressing, take a pair of my pants. Why are you in such a hurry anyway?" Arabelle slipped on a pair of his pants and his shoes too, all of the clothes looking too big.

"I'm late! Son of a bitch," she swore and rapidly buttoned the shirt and looked for her coat and hat. Erik stood and tried to calm her, but almost lost focus when he saw the bruises.

"What are you late for?"

"I promised to meet Joshua at the hotel at noon!"

"You've got plenty of time!"

"It's already noon and the hotel is a fifteen minute run!"

"And?"

"He's always twenty minutes early!"

"Oh…"

Arabelle stumbled into her room, sweat dripping from her forehead, and her lungs gulping the air like it was soon to disappear. Joshua sat patiently on the couch, reading a book. She smiled to herself. Ever since they were kids, he'd been like this. Nose buried deep in some book when he wasn't working; his imagination left floating in the clouds. He glanced at her when she crashed through the door.

"You are late," he turned a page and continued reading. Arabelle sighed as she removed her hat and coat.

"I know, I apologize, I did not mean to be," she sat on the chest in front of him, merely inches away. She waited for him to look up, but he just continued reading. After a minute of pure silence, she snatched the book from him, getting his undivided attention.

"Hey, give that back!" She dangled it in front of him, teasing him. He grabbed and swiped at it, but it was in vain.

"You had something important to tell me," Arabelle thumbed through the book. "Tell me, and I'll give your book back." He continued to try and retrieve the book, but continuously failed. Each attempt made Arabelle smile and laugh more.

"Fine! Cornette plans to sell you," Arabelle's smile evaporates and turns into an empty expression. Her stomach fell through a bottomless pit of darkness.

"Sell me?"

"At her Masquerade Ball next week," she drops the book and takes a few steps back. To sell a courtesan means that a man makes a deal with the headmistress, promising a large sum of cash for the permanent exclusivity and unspoken freedom of a courtesan. She becomes his mistress for life, a prisoner. Most of the courtesans that are sold are never heard from again.

"And to whom am I being sold?" If there was ever an answer she feared more, it was this.

"I'm not sure," he stammered. "I only heard of her speaking of this a few nights ago. She's been sending you to many different candidates apparently. But, this morning, a messenger arrived with a letter and an offer."

"So that's it," she sank to the couch. "I'm to be sold to the highest bidder, like cattle." She felt bile rise up to her throat and the room became a mess of colors and sounds. She knew what life awaited her as a mistress. Thankless, empty, a half life. But most of all, she would lose what she cherished most of all, her freedom.

"But don't worry, Belle, I promise that this will not happen. We can fight this." Joshua grabbed his book and hat. "I'm going to come up with a plan today and I will come back tomorrow morning." He embraced her, kissed her on the cheek, and left. She didn't so much as utter a syllable. She felt paralyzed. No matter what she did, she wouldn't ever be able to escape her past, Madame Cornette, or her mistakes. She would never truly be free.

The entire day ticked by slowly, but gradually. She hadn't spoken a word all day. The events of her life played in repeat inside her head. Arabelle found herself on the roof, watching the sky, a bottle of scotch, almost empty, in her hands. She could fight this, like she always did. But she was tired, she was so tired. No matter how hard she fought, how smart she became, how she changed her surroundings, she would never be rid of the terrible choices she had made as a stupid teenage girl. And those choices have and will continue to cost her dearly.

The pain was taking a large toll on her, body and soul. It was all just too much. Arabelle chugged the last of the scotch and stood, walking towards the edge of the roof. She spread her arms, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She wished she was a bird, so she could fly far away.

The wind rushed over her face and arms gently, weaving between her fingers. She wanted so badly to get away from everything. But circumstances have proved that that was never going to be a possibility.

A hand gently slid down her arm and over her hand, entwining its fingers with hers. Another hand repeated the motion with her other arm. Lips gently brushed against her neck. She wanted to fall to pieces right then, collapse and cry until there wasn't a single tear left in her body.

"What are you doing, little bird," Erik whispered to her. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and pushed back tears.

"Thinking," she whispered back, her voice gravelly. He continued to kiss her neck gently, attempting to calm her, but it made her more anxious.

"About what?"

"Jumping," she looked at her feet, standing on the edge, and kicked a piece of gravel. It was a long way down.

"Even if you try, I won't let you," she takes this as a challenge and takes a quick step over the edge, but he grabs her waist before she has a chance to even fall an inch and carries her to the doorway, she fights and screams the entire way. He sets her down and pushes her up against the wall.

"Are you insane?" He yells at her. "Why would you do that?" She doesn't look at him, nor does she answer. He grabs her face and forces it to look at him. She glares and clenches her jaw.

"Answer me, Arabelle," he demands sternly. She still refuses to answer. He scoffs, releases his grip and walks off. "I do everything for you, yet you still won't even give me the decency of the truth." He growls. "I suppose that not even I am good enough for you. If you don't care to see me anymore, all you need to do is say it!"

She continues to lean against the door, tears fall slowly at the corners of her eyes.

"I'm being sold," Arabelle says quietly, without a trace of anger in her voice. Erik turns and looks at her, sudden guilt emerging onto his face.

"Sold?"

"Next week, during her Masque," Arabelle cleared her throat, pushing away to shakiness of her voice. "Cornette is going to sell me to the highest bidder. I'll become a mistress."

"So you were just going to give up?"

"I'm tired," her answer makes Erik scoff and spit.

"That's no excuse," he sneers and shakes his head in disappointment. "I thought you were stronger than that." Arabelle goes into a tearful rage with his words, intending to defend herself and her excuse.

"I have been fighting since I was eight years old! I've had to fight for everything since my father died. I have done everything to ensure my freedom and independence! Done everything to escape my past! But nothing changes. No matter how hard I fight, no matter what I do, it's never enough! There hasn't been a single moment in the past thirteen years when I've stopped!

"I can't even look at myself in the mirror anymore. I don't eat, or sleep. I try everything I can, but in the end, it's all for shit. I've tried absolutely everything I can possibly think of, but still I end up in the worst possible position. You don't know what it does to you. Every day I see my mistakes, I see my father's death, I see what I've become. It tears away your entire being, kills you. I've fought for so long, that I have no energy left in me to fight. So don't you dare tell me that I have no excuse!" Arabelle screams at him through a veil of tears. Everything flashes before her eyes and she's on the ground hyperventilating, rocking herself back and forth.

"I just want to fall asleep and never wake up."

"But you cannot. You have to face what you've done. You cannot out run your past, Arabelle, you have to keep fighting."

"But I can't, I can't," she mutters through heavy tears, shaking her head.

"You have too," Erik wipes away her tears. "Or else all the fighting you have done is for nothing, your life is for nothing."

They sat there for hours as Arabelle spilt every tear she had held in since her father's death; Erik sat there in silence, just being there for her. Although he never said it, Erik understood how she felt, too well, actually. But, he couldn't give up, especially now that he had her. He found a reason to keep trying. She just needed to find hers, before it was too late.

Joshua arrived the next morning in too cheery of spirits but, his cheery disposition faded upon seeing Erik in the room. The two locked glares instantly. Arabelle ignored the boy's mental measurement game and went on to Joshua's brilliant plan.

"So, tell me this brilliant plan of yours, dear friend,"

"Well," said Joshua, "I bought us two train tickets to Spain!"

"No," Erik said flatly, his arms crossed over his chest. Joshua scoffed and stomped towards him.

"And what honestly makes you think you have a say in this? Who are you anyway?" Arabelle separated them and then explained to Joshua that Erik was a friend, someone who has helped her greatly the past couple of months. Joshua didn't like Erik, not a bit. He found him arrogant and proud, maybe a little vain.

"Joshua, I have to agree with Erik. It isn't a good idea."

"Why, in heaven's name, not?"

"Because, I'll just be running, and I may not be able to get out alive next time. This needs to end, once and for all."

"Then, pray tell, what shall we do?" Joshua asks sarcastically. "Her party is in less than a week. All of her customers will be there. The Judge, the Chief of Police, the Magistrate, all of her financiers! We have to do something," A wicked thought spun through her mind, just then.

"Yes, you're quite right. They will all be there," she smiled decadently. Erik and Joshua looked at one another confused, trying to see if the other knew what she was thinking. Suddenly, Arabelle burst into hysterical laughter.

"She's gone mad!" Joshua exclaimed. "What on Earth are you going on about?"

"I know how to do it," she gasped between laughs. "I know how to take Cornette down and fix everything!" And boy, was it going to be fun, she laughed to herself.

A/N: I'm so sorry that it's taken me so long to update. A lot of things happened this past year that made it near impossible for me to write and update. But I'm back and I'm working on updates! This chapter may have a few typos, sorry for that. It was rushed because I wanted to update. I've had the ending hashed out for a while and now all I have to do is type it up. It's going to be in four chapters (hopefully) and an Epilogue. Again, I greatly apologize for taking so very long to update, but I promise consistency from here on out! Lee and Erik's story will be tied up!

Sincerely,

Luce, your Surly Mermaid