Erik sighed as he walked into her room. Forget going back to square one. Her suicide attempt had taken them even further back than that. She had quit cooperating with him and wouldn't even look at him anymore. Erik was quickly getting irritated but it was hard to tell if it was with her or the lack of morphine. He wouldn't buy anymore and risk her getting her hands on it, but he could feel withdrawal coming on. It was not going to be pretty when it hit full force.

He sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress giving a little under his weight. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself and curled up into a ball, reminding him of a child hiding from a monster, which wasn't exactly an inaccurate description. Erik held out the bowl of broth. "I brought you something to for you." She kept her eyes locked on the bed and ignored him. More importantly, she wouldn't eat. "Please," he added desperately.

When she refused to even look at him, Erik had to repress a growl of frustration. What had suddenly made her want to kill herself? If he could figure that out, then he could try to put her mind at ease. Then he remembered that he had found Don Juan out when he found her. Did she think he was going to rape her? Hadn't they gotten past that stage?

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly. "You know that right?" She turned her head to look in the other direction. Erik exhaled slowly. "If you don't want to stay here, I'm not going to force you to. I can take you back out there if that is what you truly wish. Here, no one will hurt you, me included. Out there, I cannot guarantee your safety. But if that is what you want, I can take you there." Again, he received no response. He sighed again, before leaving the broth on the bedside table and walking out.

As he left, she slowly raised her gaze to stare at the door. He had saved her, he didn't let her die. He wouldn't let her die. She had a feeling that if she didn't start eating soon, he'd wind up force feeding her. But she still questioned his motives why he helped her.

He had promised to take her back to the rest of the world it that's what she wanted, but could she hold him to his word? And was it really what she wanted? She didn't even know anymore. It had been a long time since someone had been willing to take care of her. He was so attentive to her needs, yet so cautious with every step. It was almost like he was afraid of breaking her. But would staying here come with a price?

Besides, there was one other reason she seriously considered going home. She hadn't seen her family since Javert had taken her. Ever since that night, she wanted to throw herself into her father's arms and tell him just how sorry she was. All she wanted to was to apologize for not heeding his advice, to tell him how right he had been, and to beg for forgiveness.

But how could she get home? Paris was hundreds of miles from home. She didn't know the way, and even if she did, she had no way to get there. Walking was out of the question, she didn't have a horse, and she had no money to be able to buy a train ticket or pay for another way home. And she highly doubted that he would be willing to take her that far.

In fact, the only time she had seen him leave at all for anything was when he left to buy food for them both. Not that she could blame him. The mask probably frightened a lot of people. It didn't bother her that much simply because being alone with a man she didn't know was enough to scare her senseless.

A crash suddenly pierced the silence. She cried out in surprise, and curled up tighter, half expecting the door to fly open and the gypsies to storm through. Nothing happened though, which allowed her to calm down somewhat. The other side of the door remained quiet.

When it remained completely still for a long while, she began to get curious. Normally she could hear footsteps or music or something. This was unusual. She needed answers or she would go mad trying to figure out what happened. She cautiously opened the door and peeked out.

Erik left the girl hiding in her bedroom. He was trying to appear as non-threatening as he possibly could, but obviously she had found something to fear in him. Although it might have been something as simple as the fact he was a man, and she just couldn't get over her abuse. Or it was possible that his days as the Phantom left him frightening to her, or at the very least, intimidating.

As he walked out of the room, Erik noticed a slight tremble in his hands. He was well overdue for morphine, and his body was starting to scream for the drug. But there was no way he could get more, not without risking her hurting herself again. No, he was just going to have to deal the next few days and hope the withdrawal wasn't too bad.

He sat at his organ to compose, but he just couldn't get his mind to focus. His hands were slowly beginning to quiver more and more, as he tried to ignore it. Erik could feel sweat beading on his forehead, yet he was also shaking with cold. Deciding he needed to lie down for a while, Erik started to make his way to his bedroom.

Halfway there, Erik was hit with a massive wave on nausea, forcing him to detour to the bathroom. He barely made it before vomiting violently. His hopes of this being a mild withdrawal vanished, but he was going to have to keep himself functional enough to take care of the girl.

When he was fairly certain he wasn't going to be sick again, at least for a while, Erik hauled himself to his feet and staggered back towards his room. He reached the door, when his legs threatened to give out beneath him. He grabbed at a shelf, trying to stay on his feet, but all he accomplished was ripping it down, sending the various items on it crashing to the ground and him to his knees.

A few minutes later, he heard soft footsteps. He looked up and saw her staring at him. How strange it must have been to see a person she thought so intimidating in his moment of weakness, but Erik was too busy trying not to get sick to care.

She knelt next to him, draped his arm over her shoulders, and helped him stand. He was so weak and she was small enough that it took all of their combined strength to get Erik back on his feet. The pair made their way to his bedroom. Erik was forced to rely heavily on the girl, his body threatening to collapse on her much smaller frame.

Somehow the two made it without any issues. Erik collapsed on the bed as the girl scurried out. He wasn't sure why she had helped him, but he was grateful nonetheless. There was no way he could have gotten back on his own. Exhausted by the effort, Erik closed his eyes and surrendered to sleep.

When he awoke, he wasn't sure whether it was concern or playful sarcasm that was the reason that she had left the same bowl of broth he had given her on his bedside table. Maybe they were getting somewhere after all.