Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)

AN: Wanna know Anne's back story? That makes both of us! Please read and review!

Chapter 23

It had been no easy task trying to hunt down Madame Giry and her pesky daughter, Meg. Anne's words about the two of them going out of town seemed to be true as Madame Giry was not in any of her usual spots. He stealthily made his way into the ballet mistress's room and left her a note on her table. It was nothing more than simply apprising her of the situation and requesting her immediate assistance at his home. As he made his way back out of her room, he spotted a photograph on her dressing table. Upon closer inspection, he saw Maria standing with a man that could only be her husband. It was then that he saw where Anne got her looks. She had inherited her father's dark hair, pointed nose, and strong jaw, but there was still the curiosity of where she had gotten her eyes.

Putting the picture back down, he left Antoinette's dressing room and returned as quickly as he could to Anne. He had expected her to be awake, despite the laudanum, but she asleep, although it was very much apparent that she was feverish. She was thrashing about as if caught in some sort of dream she couldn't wake from. Her lips were moving as if she were trying to say something but he couldn't quite make out her words. He walked over to her bedside and sat down. He pushed her dark hair out of her eyes and was surprised when they opened wide with apparent fear. She was looking around trying to discern where she was, her breath ragged, and sweat ran down her face.

"Anne?"

She looked at him and his breath caught seeing the color of her eyes to no longer be blue but white. He hadn't seen anything so…entrancing. He put his hands on her shoulders and shook her slightly to see if she was really awake or just delirious.

"Please…protect me." Her eyes widened in panic. "He…he's coming for me."

"Who is?" His brow furrowed in confusion. No one was coming for her here as only she, and Madame Giry and very few others, none of whom were in her acquaintance, knew of this place. "No one's coming for you."

"He comes in the night." Her hands wrapped around his wrists and gripped so tightly her knuckles almost went white. "He always comes in the night…in the dark of the night he finds me." Her voice almost didn't sound like her own…she sounded lost, confused, almost like a child.

"Anne, no one's coming for you. It was just a nightmare. You're alright."

"You say that! You always say that!" She began to fight him and he struggled to keep restrain her, fearing that she would harm herself if she broke loose and made a run for the door. "You never believe me!"

Who the "you" was, Erik was not to know, for she started screaming and put her hands on her head. He knew that scream of terror. He had heard it many times ringing in his ears as Christine whisked away his mask, and any other time someone had foolishly seen his face. He took some small comfort that it was not aimed at him. He managed to hold both her wrists with one hand and he pulled her close trying to calm her down. Instead of trying to make her believe he thought her a liar, he played a long, hoping it would calm her down. "He's not coming, Anne. I'll…" He took a deep breath, hesitant to say anything lest she remember. But, if she was delirious, it was highly probable that she would not. "I'll protect you."

She looked up at him with tear filled eyes, but they were trusting eyes. "You will?" Again, her voice was not her own. The sound of a lost, innocent child rang in his ears.

"Yes, until you fall back asleep."

"But that's when he comes…" She looked around her, as if fearing for her safety.

"I'll be here, beside. I'll…protect you. I promise."

And then, she smiled at him. It was a true, unguarded smile, that lit up her face and it was one she only reserved when she talked about her love…her music. He would never have imagined that such a glimpse of sunshine would ever be bestowed towards him. She laid her head against his chest and he held her close, slowly rocking her until her breathing slowed. Her hands, which had managed to grab onto the lapels of his jacket slowly released their tight grip and fell onto her lap. When he was certain that she had fallen asleep, he gently laid her back down onto the pillows and he heard something make a soft jingle sound. He looked down and found a locket hanging from her neck. He recognized it instantly and wondered if Anne had managed to open it. Knowing that it was impossible to open without the correct key, Erik pushed the momentary fear aside and went to grab a basin of water and a towel.

For the next two hours, while she tossed in her sleep, he bathed her temples and tried to understand her almost incomprehensible words. Her words remained forever far beyond his reach, but there was only one name she said in her sleep…only one thing she repeated over and over.

"Erik."

He stayed by her side until he heard the alarms trigger the arrival of a visitor. Hoping it to be Madame Giry, he left Anne's room only a few moments and was grateful to see the ballet mistress.

"What happened?!" She looked worried and fearful. Erik wondered if she knew what Anne was hiding so deeply in her mind.

Erik led her to the spare bedroom, quickly telling her of how Anne passed out, as well as her delirious episode that had happened earlier. He watched as Antoinette checked Anne's pulse, forehead, and throat.

"Meg said that she had a restless night."

"Does she have nightmares often?"

"Last night was the first occurrence at the Opera House. Probably the break with her family triggered it. Anne's mother protected her from a lot during her life. She probably protected her daughter too much."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed and looked at him. "I'm sorry. But just as you will not allow me to tell her your story, I will not tell you hers. That is something for her to tell, in her own timing. For now, she must not know of this incident. It could do terrible damage to her mind. She's not ready to deal with the truth."

"The truth?"

"The time between her father's death and when she went to live with her Grandmother, is tragic, but it is also filled with lies and deceit. There was much her mother hid from her…more than just her illness."

"I don't understand."

"Good, because it is not for me to tell. When she wakes up, we will tell her that she rested peacefully. Nothing more will be said on the subject."

Erik's tale was finished and I sat in almost a confused stupor…caught between shame, anger, and horror. My weakness had been exposed and I didn't remember it, but I had also been made to pretend that it didn't even happen. I couldn't quite wrap my mind around all had Erik had told me but I wasn't quite sure if I wanted to…not just yet.

"What happened then?" I asked, wanting to hear the rest without trying to comprehend what I had been already told.

"You awoke, and everything progressed as you remembered."

I stood up and went to the window. "But why did you shut yourself up in the music room without saying anything to me?"

"I was angry at myself, because I knew it was wrong to conceal the truth from you. I know what it's like to be lied to."

I took a shaky breath and rested my hands on the windowsill. "I appreciate you telling me, and I appreciate all you did for me, but you must understand that I cannot give you any further information on…what I spoke of." I rested my head on the cool glass feeling suddenly very warm.

"I don't expect you to," was his stiff reply. "You're just my student…what else would I expect from you?"

"We're friends, Erik, but you must understand that there are some things I just can't talk about!"

"What is so terrible that you won't tell me about it?"

I turned to him, my anger rising. "What is so terrible about your face that you refuse to let me see it?!"

He smirked. "You've never asked."

"Because it is not my place to ask. When you feel comfortable enough to trust me completely, then it will be at your hand…not my own. The same will apply to me. When I am ready to trust you…then I shall tell you…not before. For now…my story must be like yours. Half told."

He was silent…I had cornered him. His mask, like my tale, was the barrier that stood between us from becoming true friends, friends that were open with each other in sharing things that we would share with none other. I turned away from the window and walked over to where he sat. I took a deep breath and knelt down in front of him. I took his hands in my mine and found that my own pale fingers were trembling. I couldn't tell from what, at that precise moment.

"Thank you for telling me what happened."

"I…don't want you lied to. From what Madame Giry told me, it seemed like that's all that has happened to me."

I looked away, suddenly very angry with my Aunt but as well as my mother. "I thought mother and I had no secrets from each other. It seems that I was wrong. She lied to me about her illness…I wonder what other things she hid from me."

"Anne…"

"I was strong for my mother! I did everything to make sure that Elizabeth had everything and gave up my share for her! What was she protecting me from? Was she also afraid that I wouldn't amount to anything and that the only way that I could make myself useful was of being service to others?!"

"That's not what she meant…"

"I feel like she wasn't even my mother! I feel like she was just some person who tried to play at mother and over compensated by shielding me from everything, never letting me grow! Never letting me prove that I was strong enough to handle…handle, the world!"

I was crying now. I felt betrayed, and as lost as the girl Erik described me as during my incompetent state. "Now…now there's no one to prove anything to. She's gone, and I can't…I can't…"

"There's always someone to prove something to, and that's yourself." His hands gripped my shoulders and I looked into his eyes. "You have the power to make each day better than the last and you have the power to change yourself. You cannot change what you were…you can only change what you are."

I nodded, his words making sense, but how I could I tell him how betrayed I felt. I felt as if my entire world was built on the lies of my youth…like who I was now would have been different if my mother had just been honest with me. But, I couldn't change that now…could I? I only had what I was now…and the decisions I made now, defined me. Not the ones others had made for me when I was younger.

"Do you understand, Anne?"

"Yes, Erik. I understand."

"Good." He smiled at me and helped me to my feet. "Now…how about we cancel today's lesson and we spend the day just enjoying each other's company?"

I smiled, instantly feeling warm at that thought. "I'd like that, Erik."

"If you like, you can go grab a book or two from the library, and you can come to the music room and I'll play for you."

I was puzzled and confused at his sudden offer to play for me. Usually, he practiced by himself with me barely being able to discern anything through the thick walls of his house. But, I could see that this was his attempt at letting me in…at letting me see the man behind the mask.

"I'll be right back." I made my way to the library and picked out a few books that caught my interest and returned to the music room finding Erik devoid of his black jacket and gloves, wearing only his boots, trousers, and white shirt. Even with the mask, he was extraordinarily handsome. I was suddenly struck with how the mask seemed to be more a part of his face than anything else. It seemed to fit his bone structure perfectly. He and the mask seemed one and nothing was going to change that.

I situated myself in a chair, drew my legs up underneath me and placed an open book on my lap. "What are you going to play?" I asked, when he didn't bother to touch the keys, but just kept looking at me.

"Whatever you like."

I smiled at his thoughtfulness. "Then consider yourself to play whatever you wish. I'm sure you'll play beautifully whatever you choose."

For the next hour and a half, I listened to him to play music that was akin to what I'm sure the only angels heard in Heaven. I didn't bother to read as he played piece after piece after piece until the time came for me to return to my room.

He walked me to the false wall in the hallway, all the while holding my hand. Every now and then, he would stop and look at me, as if he were going to say something, but then he always thought better of it and continued on. I found it amusing, because I knew that if he had something to say, there was no keeping him from it. It was only until I was about to open the door, and he didn't let go of my hand that I turned to him and waited for him to say whatever it was that he had to say.

"Anne…I want you to know that I meant what I said."

I tilted my head. What on earth could he possibly mean? He had said many things to me during the course of our afternoon together. "I…don't understand."

"I mean…what I said to you on Sunday. That I'd…I'd protect you."

My eyes widened and my lips parted.

"I'm not saying that you need protection, but should the time ever come that you need it…or me…I promise I'll protect you, guard you from whatever darkness comes your way."

I felt tears prick my eyes as his kind words struck my heart. He wasn't trying to take away my independence but my making me think that I was weak and unable to fend myself. He was offering his hand at being supportive of me and helping me, should the time ever arise. "Thank you, Erik. That's the kindness thing you could have ever said to me." I raised my hand to touch his unmasked cheek. "You really are a good person, Erik. I see more and more proof of that every day."

I wrapped my arms around him, surprised when he returned the embrace. I left the passageway, making sure to check and make sure no one was around. As I made my way down the hallway, I could hear the door close behind me. My mind finally went over the conversation over Erik and I had, and my anger rose. Not at just my Aunt…but at a woman I had not even met, a woman that I had only heard of. How Christine Daaé could turn down such a gentle and kind soul as Erik, meant only one of two things: She was either incredibly stupid, or was the most common flirt that ever lived.