AN: Hello readers. Thank you for the reviews. I really appreciate it. Your reviews make me want to continue writing. Here's a nice, long chapter.

xxx

Winter had invaded the forest, covering the cold earth in a fine layer of snow. To be out in these conditions unprotected could prove detrimental to one's health. It was for this reason that Markus had temporarily called off his search for the Devil's Child. He could not very well have his men ill during this time of the year. He needed the men able bodied if he were to have his camp survive the winter.

Since his main attraction was missing, Markus had settled for a new attraction-the Devil's Lovers. The two women were slowly bringing in crowds. People were fine with seeing the women tortured as they were associated with evil. How easy it was to sway the minds of the weak.

x

Erik awoke sometime later, though he had no way of knowing how long he had been asleep. The lair was cold, much colder than it normally was. He forced himself to sit up, not yet opening his eyes. Pains returning to his body made him come to awareness.

He looked about him, now realizing that he was not in the lair. He was back in the forest-back to remembering all that had so recently happened to him. His wounds were not bleeding, but the pain from them was becoming worse. At the very least, where his flesh had been skinned, the basal layer of skin had remained. The missing skin could grow back-in time.

The Phantom vaguely remembered being released from the cage by the boy. But, where had the viscount gone? Why would the boy leave him alone in the woods? Hmm, likely to die.

The sound of someone approaching set him on edge. The clip-clop of cloven hooves told him enough that this person was traveling by horse. He was not strong enough to fight anyone off, certainly not Markus' men. The last thing he wanted was to be forced back into that cage. Going back to the camp was not an option. What could he do then? The horse was visible now as well as the man riding the creature. What a surprise that it was a man dressed in gypsy garb. Would his suffering never end?

He tried to stand, tried to back away, but it was useless. He could not walk; the nails from Markus were still impaled in his feet. The cold from the snow certainly had not helped either. His body was slow, and there was no escape. It was easier to give up. He stopped his struggle and simply sat on his knees in the cold, wet snow to await his fate.

Raoul had gone in search of lodging and transportation shortly after the Phantom had fallen asleep. It was clear that the man was worse off than he had initially thought. Never had the Opera Ghost let down his guard in such a way in front of him. Would it even be possible to save Christine and Eloise now? It had been luck that he had been able to free Erik. Could he really expect that same amount of luck, for Fate to smile on him, to save two more from the gypsy camp?

He had come back to find Erik awake. It seemed that Erik did not recognize him, as the man had tried to back away. Eventually, the man had fallen and tried to crawl away, only to stop. It looked like the man had given up and was simply awaiting his fate-or untimely demise. Never had Raoul seen the Phantom give up on a fight so easily. The man had once been an unstoppable force, but now he could not recognize the person kneeling in the snow below him.

Erik was becoming more frustrated as the gypsy and his horse waited in front of him. He glowered up at the animal and the other man. "What are you waiting for?" he hissed with anger clear in his voice.

The horse became frightened by the view of the man's face below him. The handler had no hope of controlling the animal as it reared up in an attempt to escape the monster. The rider fell to the ground with a hard thump and a grunt of pain. Still, the horse continued jumping up and down, perhaps hoping to dispose of the thing in front of it.

The gypsy was Raoul, Erik realized as he got a good view of the fallen man. He had to admit that he was surprised with the viscount. The man had successfully managed to disguise himself. Now was the matter of dealing with the frightened horse.

He forced himself to stand, ignoring the pain in his feet. He looked away from the fearful creature and simply reached out his hand, waiting and knowing that the horse would eventually calm itself. He knew better than to try and overpower a scared animal. He would let the horse come to him.

And, as predicted, the horse did calm itself and slowly come to him. The animal sniffed the damaged flesh on the hands, not quite understanding it. Still, the horse pushed its snout into the outstretched hand of the human.

"There now," Erik muttered while stepping to the side to stroke the horse's strong neck. It might also have been to use the horse as support-though he would not admit that to himself. "I will never harm you." Harming an animal was something he could never bring himself to do.

"I don't understand," Raoul stated, coming to stand beside the Phantom. "The horse was frightened and out of control. Yet-"

"You might be surprised to know that I have more knowledge than simply murder and music," Erik replied, finally succumbing to the wretched pain in his feet and being forced to sit in the cold snow. He looked up at the man. "You look like a gypsy."

Raoul removed the dark wig and tossed it to the ground. "I stole the clothes. Had to fit in to get into that camp." He awkwardly scratched at the back of his head-only to find strange lumps. "What the hell?" the viscount commented, more to himself than the Phantom. He could feel that the odd lumps would move, but he could not remove them.

"What are you going on about?" Erik questioned, confused about the boy's actions. When no response came, he picked up the discarded wig. Perhaps an answer could be found there. Had the boy come down with lice? That certainly would be worth a laugh. Sadly, no, that was not the answer. He pulled a swollen tick from the hair. "You have ticks," Erik stated while tossing the bug away.

"Ticks?!" Raoul questioned, more than surprised. "How did that happen?" He began scratching at his scalp, trying to remove the blood suckers.

Erik groaned in annoyance, forcing himself to his feet again. He grabbed the other man the shoulders, forcing the other to look at him. The brief look of shock was enough to tell the former Opera Ghost that he finally had Raoul's attention. "If you simply pull them off, the head will remain lodged in that thick skull of yours."

"My skull?" Raoul questioned, eyes going wide. He had never had to deal with anything like this. He had grown up away from such things. It was rare for him to so much as see an insect in his home, let alone have one sucking his blood.

The former Phantom sighed. "It is an expression, De Chagny. Now, if you would, kneel down so that I can more easily remove the ticks from your scalp. There is no need for you to come down with Lyme disease now, is there?"

"They carry disease?" Raoul questioned as he did what the Phantom asked. A grunt was the only response he got as he felt cold fingers slipping over his scalp. It felt odd to be in this position. The former Opera Ghost was using one hand to lean heavily against his shoulder. The other was doing the work of finding the insects. "Are you alright?"

Erik scoffed. "Do I look 'alright' to you?" He continued his work, though it was difficult to make any process in removing the ticks. The easiest way to remove the insect was by, quite literally, unscrewing them. Still, the small wooden splinters that Markus had forced under his finger nails and never removed were making the process exceedingly painful and difficult. There was the added annoyance of being out in the snow with barely any clothing. There were also the nails in his feet making it difficult to stand.

"Can I help?" Raoul asked, quietly noting that Erik had not yet removed any of the insects.

Taking help from his once enemy was something Erik was loath to do, but he knew that there was little other choice. He would do what he must. Slowly, he brought his hand away from the boy's scalp to show him the splinters. "Try your luck at removing them. I am unable to…for reasons."

Raoul nodded, though he was not entirely sure how to do it. The splinters were just long enough that he would be able to remove them using his fingers alone. But, did he simply rip them out? Would that cause more damage? Or did he pull them out slowly? But, wouldn't that cause more pain?

He decided that less damage was likely the best route. The Opera Ghost liked to play musical instruments. Causing more damage to the already nearly-destroyed hands likely would not end very well. But, when the slow approach only ended in Erik grunting in pain and damning him to Hell, the viscount decided that slow and steady would not win this race. He settled for quickly removing the offending objects.

The pain of having the splinters removed was something Erik would not care to remember. The relief, however, was well worth it. After having the boy do the same to the other hand, the once Phantom of the Opera went about removing the ticks. It was a simple fix, and he stepped back to then sit beside the horse once again when the ordeal was finally over. "Dog ticks," Erik supplied. "They do not carry the disease. You will be safe."

Raoul felt about his head, cringing when his fingers passed over the slightly open wounds from where the ticks had been. He knew better than to complain. He had no right. Glancing at the Phantom, whose attention was now on the horse, he wondered how the man had survived. He looked like Death, much more so than normal. His injuries were grievous, and the cold was likely not helping.

The cold, the snow! How could he have been so stupid? Here he was having the Phantom help him when he had not done a thing for the ailing man. The former Phantom only had tattered pants to wear to protect him from the cold.

"I brought clothing," Raoul stated, coming out of his thoughts. He walked over to the side of the horse to the saddle bag. Erik didn't bother moving, or even saying anything, so Raoul simply leaned over him to fetch the article from the bag. He pulled out a simple white shirt along with a long, black overcoat. He thought that it would suit the Phantom. It was his own clothing, but he would not complain in offering it to the Phantom-to Erik. He offered it to the man.

"How odd," Erik muttered as he took the clothing and quickly began to dress. "The first piece of clothing my mother offered me was a mask. The gypsies, quite obviously, offer little to nothing. Hmm, Persia was half way decent, I suppose. Aside from what needed to be done to get said clothing and riches."

"Persia?" Raoul questioned, somewhat taken aback by the Phantom-Erik, he reminded himself-telling his history.

"Murder," Erik supplied nonchalant. The boy knew full well what he was capable of. "In that land, it is survival of the fittest-and of those who hold favor with the Shah. Still, this is odd." He once again forced himself to his feet, needing to lean against the horse. He looked down on the expensive clothing. How strange this was. He dressed as he was with the Viscount dressed as a gypsy. "You treat me as a man. Stranger still, you never forced the mask from my face. Why?"

Honestly, Raoul did not know the answer. Perhaps it was because someone else had always done it before him. Still, he never had felt the need to. He didn't answer but merely went back to the saddle bag. It was fast approaching evening. He needed to get Erik something to eat and then back to their temporary lodgings. "I brought shoes and socks," Raoul stated, holding them out to the other man. They may not fit well."

"Hmm, the nails in my feet would prevent that anyway," Erik replied. The look of shock on the Viscount's face was almost enough to make him laugh. Almost. He leaned heavily against the horse and picked up one foot. It seemed almost impossible, but De Chagny's eyes only grew wider. "Markus enjoyed in his torture. The crowd particularly liked this act. Though, they seemed to be enjoying the show you interrupted." The memory of the particular torture Markus had been inflicting just before the fire distraction brought a searing pain to that area. "Thank you for interrupting that show…Raoul."

"You're calling me by name?" Raoul questioned, further surprised. It appeared that the once Phantom would never cease to amaze him.

Erik smirked before forcing himself up onto the horse. "Would you prefer I call you something else?" He offered his hand out to the other and was surprised when the viscount accepted it and saddled up behind him. The closeness wasn't awkward, and it didn't bother him.

Was Erik trying to joke around? Raoul was not sure, but he would take the bait. "I don't know, Angel of Music. You tell me."

Any feeling of brief friendship disappeared from his mind. "Have I not suffered enough?" he questioned, not looking back at the viscount as he urge the horse to begin its journey, though he did not know where to. "I am captured and tortured in that camp in an attempt to save her, and you must bring up the past."

Raoul was taken aback by his reaction, the sudden shift in personality. "I didn't think-"

"No one ever does," Erik replied bitterly.

Raoul was silent for a moment before leaning over to go into the saddle bag once more. He trusted the former Phantom enough to not let him fall-or make him fall. He pulled the item from the bag and looked at it for a moment. It used to bring him such dread and anger. Now it brought him some hope. Perhaps he could help Erik become the fearsome Phantom once more in order to save Christine and Eloise. He could only hope.

He reached around the man-feeling slightly awkward, and offered the man the item. "They left it behind when they attacked us. It seems as though you draw some form of strength from it."

"The mask," Erik replied while taking the item from the Viscount. He brought the horse to a stop for a moment to stare down on the white porcelain. He put it in place, feeling a sense of almost calm-perhaps security-come over him. He started the horse back on its journey again. "It keeps the monster away."

"The monster?" Raoul questioned.

"That would be a story for later, boy," Erik replied.

Raoul sighed, looking at the snow beneath them. "I think I preferred 'Raoul'."

"As you wish," the masked man replied, continuing them on only God knew where. It would be nice to have some directions, but he would wait for the dense fop-for Raoul, try to be nice-to offer them.

"What do I call you?" Raoul questioned. He felt odd about calling the Phantom by his name for some odd reason. He never heard anyone speak his true name. Certainly Erik did not expect him to know it.

Erik chuckled without mirth. "You seem to enjoy the same names as all the others-Phantom, Ghost, monster, beast. What was it you called me in the cemetery? Angel of Darkness? Perhaps Death would be an appropriate title. I certainly look close to it. Markus would have had that wish if you had not shown up."

"Your name is Erik," Raoul supplied, becoming sufficiently annoyed with this attitude. "No one is insulting you now. I am trying my best with you. Eloise and I came to the camp to find you to-"

The woman, Erik remembered. How could he have forgotten her? How long had he been trapped in that cage? What had become of her? "Where is she?" Erik questioned, turning to face the man behind him while stopping the horse once again. "Is she safe?"

How was he supposed to tell Erik that the gypsy leader had taken his wife? Raoul could only imagine what the leader was doing with her or doing to her. He was spared having to reveal what happened as two gypsy men suddenly came across their path.

"What are you two boys doing out here this late?" the man slurred. The woman with him began to laugh before hugging the man tightly around the waist. Clearly the two were drunk-or worse. The man pushed the woman away from him. "Mark is letting us play with his pet whore tonight. I hear that Eloise is great to have a go with."

"What was that?" Erik questioned, his tone dark. He ignored Raoul try to protest against him slipping off of the horse. He landed sturdy on his feet. The adrenaline helped to numb the pain.

The man was clearly oblivious to the very real danger he was in. He looked at the man in front of him from head to toe. "Hey, you aren't a part of the camp. Why are you with one of the gypsies?"

Erik didn't reply, but he merely placed his hands on either side of the man's face. "I fancy men," he lied before kissing the drunken gypsy full on the lips. He pulled away quickly enough to see the shock on the man's face. That look would stay forever plastered on the man's face as Erik snapped the man's neck in one fluid movement.

The woman screamed and tried to run away. But she was not fast enough to escape the Phantom's clutches. He caught her by her hair and pulled her tight against his chest. She stared fearfully into the mismatched eyes. "You-you're the-"

Raoul came to stand beside the angry man. "He's the Phantom of the Opera. Now, what is this that we hear about Eloise? See, she is the Phantom's wife."

"The Devil's Whore," the woman spat. He fear was quickly bringing her out of her stupor. "Markus caught her. The men get to have their way with her. Rape her at will. Soon they'll get to have little Christine too."

"No," Erik ground out before quickly snapping the woman's neck too.

Erik backed away from the dead bodies, running his hands over his head. That only caused him pain as he went over old injuries. It was finally all catching up to him. His body crumpled under him, sapped of its energy. "Why," he screamed at the darkening sky, not caring who heard him or what Raoul thought of him, "why must You always destroy the things I love? What did I do to You?"

"Erik," Raoul interjected while going to the man's side. He didn't exactly know what to say or do. Clearly, the man blamed God for the atrocities that had befallen him in life. He settled for simply sitting beside the crumpled man and slowly putting an arm around the man's shoulders. Oddly, this seemed to calm him. "Erik, we need to go. You need to rebuild your strength."

"For what?" he responded, deadpan. "Markus has destroyed her. She will never recover. Before-"

"She told me what happened," Raoul interrupted. "But that woman seemed, for the most part, perfectly fine to me. She was happy with you. So was Christine. I pulled her away from you. Yes, Erik, you were right. I was unable to keep her safe, and now she is suffering. The both of them need your help. I need your help. Or would you rather they remain in that camp to be used as toys? Perhaps you want to happen to Christine what happened to you?"

"You bastard," Erik cursed, but he did not have the strength to attack the viscount. Instead, he let the boy pull him to his feet and force him back on the horse.

"Good," Raoul stated as he took the reins, not caring that he had to lean into the Phantom to do so. It certainly would be an interesting view for people to see. "Use your anger. It gives you power. It makes you focused. We are going home. You are going to get your strength back. And then, Erik, you will once again play the role of the Phantom of the Opera and kill those monsters, those beasts, which have harmed you and raped the ones you love."

xxx

Please review, my lovelies.