Would, could I have done differentlyYou never said there was anything wrongNow the drugs, they give me encouragementWhy? Why? Why?Oh God, tell me I'll make itI'll give you my blood if that's all you needJust don't tell me that I'm gonna die,Die, die!
Dead Man's Ballet - Sixx A.M.
My brother had been in the cellar so long. I could never remember a time when he had walked in the sun with normal people. He had always hid in La Opera Populaire, and now he must come out of hiding.
My head throbbed like it had been for hours. Who knew waking up from suicide induced amnesia would make me feel like my skull was being cracked open onto pavement?
Rafe. For some reason he circled around me, trying to be protective of me at all possible times. I could not recall his role in my previous tribulations. The most I can remember was that sickly Christine Daee telling the managers I had attempted to poison her. All because she was nearing the end of her career and I had an opportunity to be the next, great, prima donna! Hadn't I proved self more than worthy without Erik's help?
The little wench must die, I concluded. Far too long a thorn in my side righteously ignored but this, this my friend has stretched on far too long!
I walked into Erik's room and the side of his mouth twitched into a half smirk.
"Ah, Noemi. Quite a temper, eh?" His eyes were alight with flames of pain and a secret, hidden gem of laughter.
I laughed softly and wiped the sweat from his brow. I could feel Nadir at my back, ready to intervene at any moment.
"You needn't be strong. We're all professionals here." I whispered with care.
That carefully structured facade of a mask he had used to hide from Brittany crashed down and the pain took over his body. Quickly, I worked to inject an antidote for any of my poisons he may've used to cut out the pain. I smelled opium on his breath and could tell the slow work of lead in his veins. Checking vitals, I found no evidence of lead poisoning, but the opium was an addicting monster, and made his sarcoidoisis even worse.
"Give me my opium!" he screamed loudly with his hands around my neck, shaking me.
The coldest stare I have ever given was passed to him. "Erik. No. Your body will barely survive your withdraws." His fevered eyes spelled insanity. "You must remain sober and deal with the pain you yourself have caused."
His tremors and terrors continued. Nadir and I checked solemnly, not knowing the problems in the other room. Not knowing how Brittany struggled not to rush in and comfort him. How Rafe feared for my life while I stood beside my brother. Or how Madame Giry was always strangely knitting by candlelight...