Katja ran down the hall, but couldn't get any closer to the nursery. "Belle!" she screamed, reaching for the door that was just out of her reach. "Erik! Erik, they're going to take her! You've got to stop them!"
With one final lunge, Katja was barely able to grasp the doorknob and pull the door open. Garridan had the wailing baby in his arms. "No!" Katja cried. "Let her go!" An arm wrapped around her waist from behind. "Erik! Erik, help me!" Cato's hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her cries.
Trying to escape his grip, Katja began to twist violently. Garridan simply laughed at her struggle. "I don't know why you bother," he said with a sneer. "You can run, you can hide, but you'll never escape us. We'll always find you. And there's nothing you can do about it."
She woke with a loud scream. Erik pulled her into his arms and held her just like he used to, when she had nightmares in France. He kissed away her tears and smoothed her hair. "It's okay," he cooed. "They're dead. They will never, ever hurt you again. I promise."
They both turned towards the bedroom door as they heard Belle crying. Katja started to stand to go comfort her daughter. "Don't worry, I'll take care of her," Erik whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
He stood and went to go calm Belle down. "Erik, I…I…" she stammered apologetically. Erik caressed her cheek gently before going to their daughter, leaving Katja alone.
After a few minutes, the crying stopped. The beauty of Erik's voice could soothe Belle easily. He didn't even have to sing. He could just talk to her and it would calm her down. Katja waited for him to return, but for some reason, he didn't. At first, Katja didn't mind, because she knew that Erik doted on their daughter, so she tried to go back to sleep. But when he didn't return, even after nearly an hour, she got up to make sure he was okay.
Erik was in the nursery, cradling the baby in his arms. "What's wrong?" Katja asked softly so she didn't wake Belle.
"Nothing's wrong," he replied. "She's just so beautiful." He looked up and smiled at Katja. "Beautiful, just like her mother."
All the compliments in the world wouldn't change the fact that she knew he was lying to her, but Katja let it go for now. Sooner or later she'd weasel it out of him. Instead she hugged his arm and rested her chin on his shoulder. "Come back to bed Erik."
He pressed a kiss on Belle's forehead before placing her back in her crib. Erik took her hand and led her back to their bedroom. As she nestled back into his arms, Erik began to sing his lullaby again. "What does it mean?" Katja asked sleepily.
"You know French."
"I don't feel like thinking," she replied, placing her head on his chest and closing his eyes. Erik chuckled before translating the lyrics for her.
"Deep in the meadow, under the willow
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes
And when again they open, the sun will rise.
Here it's safe, here it's warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you."
It was a soft melody, something too simple for one of Erik's compositions. It was probably something someone had sung to him when he was boy. But since odds were that it wasn't his mother, then who did? The girl who had helped him escape the gypsies perhaps?
"Deep in the meadow, hidden far away
A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray
Forget your woes and let your troubles lay
And when again it's morning, they'll wash away.
Here it's safe, here it's warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you."
Erik's voice was as smooth and hypnotic as always, and soon Katja found herself falling asleep in his arms. Just before she drifted off, she wondered how he could make her go to sleep with nothing but singing.
The next morning, Erik walked into the bathroom. He placed his mask aside and pulled out his razor to shave. "You know, I've always wondered is shaving hard for you?"
He nearly dropped the razor and whirled around. He completely hadn't noticed Katja, who was in the bathtub. "I thought you were with the baby," he admitted. "I'll leave until you're done."
"Don't bother," she replied, leaning back against the edge of the tub, sinking deeper into the water. "It's not like you haven't seen me like this before. But that doesn't answer my question."
Erik shrugged. "I suppose it's harder for me than other people. But it's the only way I've ever done it." He then proceeded to cut the right side of his face with the razor. Swearing profusely, Erik grabbed a towel and pressed it against the cut.
"Are you all right?" Katja asked.
"Yeah fine," Erik growled, pulling the towel away from his face for a moment to check the bleeding. "It's not the first time it's happened. And it won't be the last." Despite his pretend indifference, she could tell he was angry.
"Come here," Katja said, motioning for him to come closer. Erik huffed, but obeyed and knelt beside the tub. She cupped his good cheek in her hand and kissed the right side of his face just above the cut. "Better?"
He smiled softly, his anger disappearing. "Better." Erik rolled up his sleeves, reached into the warm bathwater, lathered his hands with soap, and began to rub his hands over her body.
Katja closed her eyes in contentment and leaned against his hard chest. Erik began to massage her shoulders. Having missed his tender touch, she nestled closer to him. He leaned down and kissed her left shoulder, just above the white scar. Suddenly, he pulled back. Surprised, Katja turned, but Erik had already disappeared.
She climbed out of the bath and quickly dressed. Erik was in the nursery watching Belle sleep in her crib. "What's wrong Erik?"
"Nothing's wrong," he answered.
"Are we really going to do this again?" Katja asked with a sigh. Instead of answering her question, Erik pushed past her, walking into hallway. "Erik, what is it?"
He finally turned to face her. Katja was surprised to see tears shining in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
Whatever Katja was expecting, it wasn't that. "For what?"
"For everything," he replied.
"What do you mean?"
"It's all my fault."
"What is?"
"Everything."
"Erik, you're going to have to be more specific."
He cupped her cheek with his hand. "Everything bad that's ever happened to you has been my fault. Javert would have never found you if I had killed him sooner. You wouldn't have been tortured, you wouldn't have been raped, you would never have been forced to experience that. If it weren't for my carelessness, you wouldn't have been attacked in Paris. If it weren't for me, you would never have become pregnant. You would have been free to do whatever you wanted, to marry whoever you chose to without me holding you back."
"Oh Erik, no, it's not…"
"And if I hadn't left you that day, they would have never would have been able to take you. You wouldn't have been kidnapped or hurt. And Belle… Goddammit Katja, I should have been there with you when she was born! Instead you were tied up with only those brutes! And now you've lost your family. Everything bad that's ever happened to you was because of me!"
Katja stared at him, her jaw hanging open. She couldn't believe it. Her father's words had gotten to him. Erik sat heavily on the couch, his face buried in his hands. Katja sat beside him and tilted his chin up so that he was looking at her. "Erik, you can't blame yourself. For this. For anything."
"No, I…"
"Listen to me, Erik!" she cried. "I don't blame you for anything. If Javert hadn't taken me, I never would have met you. We wouldn't have such a beautiful daughter. I'd probably be stuck here, married to someone I didn't love."
"That's not…"
She grabbed his hands. "Erik, there's nothing that I blame you for. I'd go through it all again, if that's what it took for me to be with you right here, right now."
"I know you don't really mean…"
"Erik, I love you, and I promise nothing will ever change that." She cradled his head against her breast, trying to comfort him. "If I had known what my father was going to tell you, I would have stopped him. He had absolutely no right to blame you for anything, and neither do you!"
"But he was right," Erik protested.
"No, he wasn't!" she shouted. "Those gypsies would have taken me even if you hadn't left that day. They would have come once you left for work, or whenever you left! But either way, they would have taken me and there was nothing you could have done to stop them!"
"I could have stopped them!"
"You're not superhuman Erik! You can't be multiple places at once. There was no way you could've protected me all the time."
"But I could've tried!"
Katja hugged him tightly. "But you couldn't have succeeded. Erik, nothing in this world would have stopped those two. They followed us halfway across Europe for Christ's sake!"
"But I could have tried."
One thing she both loved and hated about Erik was his persistence. "You could have, but they would've killed you Erik!"
"But I would have fought for you until my dying breath!"
She kissed him gently. "I don't doubt it. But I also don't doubt they would eventually have killed you in the process."
"Katja, there had to be something that I could've done to save you."
"You did save me," Katja reminded him. "My father was wrong to accuse you. This wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could have ever done to stop them. And if he's going to blame you for something that you had absolutely no control over, then I don't want anything to do with him."
Erik stared at her in disbelief. "But he's your father."
"And you're my husband," she countered. "And I love you. He's just going to have to understand that." Katja nestled closer to him. "Enough of this. Will you sing for me?" Erik pressed a kiss to her forehead before obliging.