A/N: Will you allow me to start out by saying how much I appreciate my friends? No? Too bad I already did ^-^. Anyways... This is dedicated to all my wonderful friends. You know who you are. *Hugs* Anyways... this does relate to the story. I'm not being totally random. ^-^ Well I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Six:

Friends

Darcey woke to find the Phantom siting in the chair next to her bed. She started to get up but stopped at the sharp pain in her chest. She groaned causing him to look up at her. "You're awake," he said sounding extremely relieved. What had happened to her? She tried to remember what had happened and just so happened to move her foot. As pain shot up her leg, the memory returned. She had tried to swim across the lake to escape and gain her freedom. She had gotten tired and had consequently gotten her foot stuck. Then he had saved her.

"Thank you for saving me," she said softly. What was wrong with her chest? It felt as if there was a great weight on her, making it hard to breathe. "What happened? I remember my foot coming free but... after that it's foggy." She was surprised her throat could feel so dry after all the water she surely had swallowed. He helped her get a drink before answering.

"You went unconscious and I had to drag you to shore. I had to compressions on you to get you to breathe again. I'm afraid I might have broken a few ribs." He seemed nervous at her reaction to the information. She chuckled lightly and laid a hand on top of his.

"It's alright. They weren't healed completely as it was. You did nothing wrong." He looked confused and though he opened his mouth to speak, no words came out. "Don't worry. The bandages weren't only a part of my disguise," she said trying to sooth him. It wasn't his fault that she had been attacked...

"I can't say that is very comforting," he said, pulling his hand away and running his fingers through his hair. He looked extremely uncomfortable and she wondered why. She tried to sit up and he was quick to help her, fluffing pillows to place behind her.

She sighed, brushing her short hair behind her ears. She had cut it in order to look more like a boy and while it had worked, it tended to fall in her face. What was she going to do now? She couldn't work as in her current condition. In fact, Mme. Giry would probably not even let her come back after she didn't show up. She wondered what time it was. She had spent her time on the streets relying on the sun to tell the time. She shifted, uncomfortable with the silence. "What time is it?"

"It's about noon. You have been unconscious for about an hour." He paused before continuing as if he knew what she was going to ask next. "I sent a note to Mme. Giry. You have no need to worry about your position." He again ran a hand through his hair. This was when she noticed the piece of paper sticking out of his pocket. Her note.

No wondering he was upset. She had written the note in the spur of the moment and now it was replaying through her mind, the parts she wished she had never written stood out painfully. He probably felt horrible right now. The thought distressed her for some reason. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I haven't been here long and all I've been is trouble. Please forgive me." She turned her face away, not wanting him to see her tears.

His fingers gripped her chin gently and turned her face back to face his. "Don't be sorry. You aren't trouble. Everything is going to be alright. I am the one that needs to beg your forgiveness." He brushed her tears off her cheeks before dropping his hand. "I trust you can manage to dress without assistance?" he asked, the emotions and vulnerability she had previously seen, disappearing from his face. She nodded in response. "Good. I will leave you now that you are awake." He turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

She sighed. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She stood and upon taking a step, collapsed in pain. She tried to stifle her cry as pain shot up her leg through her body, but was not successful. The Phantom rushed into the room and, seeing her on the floor, scooped her up and gently set her on the bed. "My foot," she managed through gritted teeth. He lifted the hem of her night gown to her knees so he could examine it.

He grimaced at the swollen and bruised mess. Why hadn't he thought to check on her foot? He prodded it gently causing her to hiss in pain. He left the room but quickly returned with a basin of water and some medical supplies. He gently washed her foot and ankle, pulling out pieces of rock and dirt from her skin. When he had washed it thoroughly, he poured a liquid over it that stung and made her flinch. "Sorry," he mumbled before patting her foot gently dry. He put some ointment on and began to wrap it in a bandage. When he was finished, he looked up at her. "Is there anywhere else that hurts?" he asked softly.

"Only my ribs. If you could get some clothes and a bandage for me, I can take care of it," she said with a slight blush tinting her cheeks. He stood from his position kneeling on the floor. He walked over to the closet and got the things she required. He placed them in a pile on the bed next to her and walked out the door after a pause and a questioning look.

As soon as the door clicked, Darcey carefully pulled the night gown over her head and unwound the old, stiff bandage. She pulled on a chemise, deciding it would be better to do so first in case she was incapable later on, before wrapping her lower ribs tightly in a fresh bandage. She pulled on a corset and loosely tightened it. It had been awhile since she had worn a dress and she had forgotten all the layers a dress required. She pulled on the short skirt that ended at her knees. She was grateful that she would not be tripping over it. Now fully dressed, she sat on the bed not knowing what to do. She couldn't walk with her foot as it was. A hesitant knock sounded on the door. "Are you done?"

"Yes." He opened the door and entered with several stockings in his hand. "These should help you be able to move on your own." He bent down and put several layers of stockings on her foot. He helped her to her feet. She carefully put her weight on her foot and grimaced. He offered his arm and she gratefully grabbed hold. "Where would you like to go?"

"The organ," she replied immediately. He blinked in surprise but helped her as she made slow progress towards the organ. Finally there, he helped her to sit. She scooted over and patted the bench, indicating that he should sit. He stiffly sat and sat waiting. She began to play a song that sounded vaguely familiar to him.

"Sing for me?" She hesitated, her fingers hovering above the keys. She then began to play again. Soon she began to sing softly. Her voice was beautiful. He was awestruck. She had great raw talent. Her song was about friendship and light. Summertime and being together. Her voice held a unspoken amount of happiness in it but he could pick out a small amount of pain and longing. It was as if she was remembering past memories that now were no more and despite the joy, they also brought sadness. The song ended and she began a new one, this one was different. It had no rules and seemed to just flow out of her. She had stopped singing and now was completely focused on the keys. He could faintly hear her humming. It was a wonderful sound. She had great talent. He wondered why she hadn't tried to join the cast instead of continuing to pretend to be a boy and become a stagehand. The song eventually came to a end and while her hands didn't leave the keys and continued to move, she stopped playing. "What was that last one?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. It just... came to me." She stopped her silent playing and turned to face him. "I'd like to start over. I want us to become friends. Do you think that could work?" She bit her lip, waiting for his response.

He seemed shocked at first. Granted he had never had a friend except Mme. Giry. "I would like that." She smiled at him and he gave her a half smile. She turned back to the organ and began to play a new song. She would occasionally pause before seemingly figuring out how to continue. She reached a point where she didn't know where to go. "May I?" he asked. At her nod, he replayed last little part she had just played before continuing, changing the key signature. Darcey began to play along with him, their fingers brushing each others occasionally. They continued this way for awhile before they both stopped. They sat silently at the organ before he spoke. "Erik Destler. If we are to be friends, you might as well call me by my given name."

She seemed to roll the name around in her mouth before making up her mind. "I like it. It suits you well." He grinned at her. "What?"

"I told you my name, now you must tell me yours."

She blushed, looking down and fingering her skirt. He chuckled at her embarrassment. "Darchelle Dubois," she muttered. He lifted a brow. She sighed. "I hated, still hate, my name. I've gone by Darcey for as long as I can remember. I'm just glad they never gave me a middle name."

"Darcey fits you better," he commented. She brushed her hair back behind her ears.

"Thank you." She then began to play again, him joining her. They sat that way, playing music for most of the day.

A/N: FINALLY! I can call him Erik instead of "The Phantom" or one of his other names. *So happy* Btw, Erik won't always be this friendly but this is a weaker, more emotional moment. Just wanted to warn you before anyone freaks out. Please Read and Review!