What If He Wasn't Alone? (A Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction)

Chapter 13: Train to Italy

I deeply apologize for the delay on updating, school plus my computer breaking whenever I have free time didn't help.... At all. I also apologize that this is short but I decided that you all deserved SOMETHING so I'll be working on the next chapter as much as possible!

DISCLAIMER: I OWN ISA AND THE EVENTS THAT WILL TAKE PLACE BUT TRY AS I MIGHT, I DO NOT OWN ERIK!!!!!!!!!!

Erik- Thank god.

All too soon it was time for us to leave, and I was absolutely terrified. We either made it to Lucca or we would get arrested and Erik would be hung. I shook my head to clear those thoughts, I couldn’t think like that now! I needed to be strong, for Erik. I took my bag and looked at Erik, who was staring into space. With one look at him, I could tell that he was just as nervous as I was.

“Relax.” I said softly, once I was next to him.

“How can I?” he asked. “I’m going away from the only place that I know to one that is entirely unfamiliar to me, and you alone can choose whether I live or die.”

“Erik, I would never do anything to intentionally cause you harm. In fact I’d die first.” I said, praying that I sounded as sincere as I was.

“I know.” He said softly. Drawing a breath, he stood taller and said “We better hurry, or we’ll miss our train.” I nodded and followed him as he walked to a small door that led to an alley beside the Populaire. Just before we reached the streets, I slipped my hand into his and we continued onto the pitch-black cobblestone streets. We walked quickly in and out of the shadows. My heart was racing, terrified that we would meet someone on the streets. Once we reached the street, I saw the carriage waiting to take us to the train station as Madame Giry promised.

The carriage driver stepped down from his seat and helped Erik put the bags away before saying “Where to?”

“The nearest train station please.” I answered quickly. The driver asked no more questions, for which I was grateful. We climbed into the carriage and took our seats as the driver flicked the reins, causing the horses to start. The only sound was the hoof beats on the stone. I snuck a glance at Erik and saw him staring out the window, back at the Populaire. A closer look and I noticed tears glistening in his eyes, which almost brought tears to my own eyes. Before I could stop myself, I slid next to him and rested my head on his shoulder. He froze and glanced at me, probably wondering what I was doing. But he didn’t move or tell me to move so we stayed like that until the driver told us that we had arrived at the train station.

As we stepped out of the carriage, I was relived to see that the station wasn’t as crowded as it could be. We walked toward the train and I felt Erik move closer to me as he saw the people. “Don’t pay attention to them.” I whispered to him. “No one is paying attention to you.” He merely nodded as we made our way to the train heading to Italy. I saw the conductor standing at the door to the passenger cart and immediately felt the dread of having to talk to a person.

“Tickets?” the official looking bald man said.

“Right here.” I said as I handed the tickets over to his outstretched hand. He took the tickets and looked at them carefully.

“Two tickets to the Venice Simplon Orient Express,” he said, reading the tickets. “One for Mademoiselle Isabelle Speranza and Monsieur Erik Destler, am I correct?”

“Oui Monsieur.” I said smiling.

“A bit late to be boarding a train, isn’t it?”

“My cousin and I needed to return home as soon as possible.” I said the lying rolling off my tongue smoothly. “Our grandmother is ill and she isn’t doing very well.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He said sympathetically, stepping away from the door. “I hope you enjoy your ride, your compartment is the fifth one on the right.” Erik took my bag and helped me up the steps and together we walked down the narrow hallway to our compartment. I opened the door and gasped. The compartment was more extravagant then my room in the ballet corps. There were three sections to the compartment, a bedroom with bunk beds, a small powder room and then a normal compartment that one would imagine on a train. I slid down onto the seat with a sigh.

“We made it!” I said, my heart still pounding from lying to the conductor and my hands still shaking.

“if talking to the conductor made you so terrified, what are you going to do when the officers come aboard to check our papers?” Erik asked, chuckling.

“I don’t know but I need to think of something!” I said, looking out the window and leaning my forehead against the cold glass. Erik sat beside me, but I wasn’t really paying attention. I just stared back at Paris as the train started to move along the tracks. I could barely make out the form of the city as I watched it grow smaller and smaller by the second. “Good bye Paris.” I whispered.

Erik’s POV:

“Erik,” I heard Isa say, her voice soft as she was falling asleep, “Are you glad that I came with you?”

I glanced at her and saw that her eyes were closed, if I didn’t know any better, I would have thought she was sleep talking. I thought for a moment and then said “Yes I am, mon ami.” Isa smiled, her eyes still closed and I turned to look out the window, as if I could see anything. After a few minutes of staring into the unending darkness I felt something on my shoulder and saw that Isa (for the second time) had fallen asleep on my shoulder. Without thinking, I put my arm around her and gently pulled her closer, so she wouldn’t be cold as she dreamed. This was where Christine was supposed to be… I thought sadly. This was the first time I had thought of her since that night and surprisingly it hurt a lot less than I imagined it would. I thought that if Christine ever abandoned me, I wouldn’t live through it. I wonder if it hurts less because of Isa… I mused, looking at the sleeping girl. I wouldn’t be surprised; it would be expected from my Angel of Music… My eyes widened in shock at that thought NO! Isa is NOT my angel of music! How on earth had my heart already forgotten Christine? My heart clenched painfully at the memory of my angel, it definitely hadn’t forgotten her, but to my shock I realized that Isa had somehow found her way into my heart. That much was evident from how fast my heart was racing from her being near me. As much as I wanted her to stay a good arms-length away from me until I sorted out my jumbled thoughts, I did owe her for taking care of me and helping me. And I was trying to ignore the part of me that wanted her to stay right where she was.

“Aguzza sensazione notturna accresce ogni oscurità suscita e risveglia l'immaginazione,

Silenziosamente i sensi abbandonare la loro difesa…”

I was surprised to hear Isa’s soft voice singing in her sleep and I was even more surprised when I listened to what she was singing, only to discover that she was singing Music of the Night in Italian. Laughing slightly I made a mental note to ask her about it in the morning.