After the Fire (Phanfiction)

3

That morning, early as usual before she set off to work, she knocked on the warehouse door twice. 'Angel it's me'

There was a silence, so she ventured inside with the load tucked under her arm and a jug of a water in her hand. 'It's Henri.'

She set the things down by the bed. 'I'll be back later.'

She could sense he was somewhere in the room, but she did not look for him. If he wanted to be alone, then she was not going to provoke him.

'Take care of yourself!' She ordered into the darkness, stepping out and shutting the door.

He sat with a heavy heart to eat what she had left, feeling confused as to why she was so kind.

As she was kneading bread at work, she thought again of the mysterious man in the warehouse.

'Stop daydreaming you stupid girl!' Her boss yelled at her as always.

She grit her teeth and continued, biting back the retorts she wanted to make.

The day passed with a gruelling slow pace, as as soon as she could she sped away.

The warehouse had been abandoned for a while now, sitting not too far from the Opera house itself.  She supposed it had once been used to store costumes, but when it was no longer needed it fell abandoned.

The Phantom, though he would not show it, was pleased to find many old costumes and papers left behind, and the spacious warehouse filled with old crates was more then accommodating.

Henri walked happily up to the door, though tired, because she could see there was still a spark left in that man and she intended to bring it to life again.

'It's me!' She called out, knocking the door twice, something that had become her custom.

There was no response once again, and with a sigh she continued inside. There was no sign of him nearby but she knew he had no left due to the blanket laying askew.

'Angel it's Henri!' She called again. It felt a little strange to address him by that name but until she got another option she wanted something that wasn't "the phantom"

He finally appeared out of the darkness, wearing a new shirt.

She guessed he had found it in a costume box as it wasn't one of the shirts she had brought him. She also saw that he was wearing his mask again.

'You're quiet tonight.' She observed, standing in front of him, twisting her hands nervously.

'You look tired.' He replied in a very matter-of-fact voice.

'What every woman wants to hear.' She joked, but she did feel tired. She felt exhausted, but visiting him gave her some energy.

'I still do not understand why you are housing and feeding me.' He spoke up.

'Sometimes I don't understand either.' She joked again softly. 'But put simply, what else could I have done?'

'Are you happy at work?' He asked somewhat abrasively, sitting down cross-legged.

'No.' She answered honestly, sitting down across from him. 'I do not mind the work itself but my employers are difficult and quite frankly horrible.'

'Then why do you continue?' He asked, his head tilted in interest.

'Because I have nothing else.' She said at last.
'Not all are gifted and able to do the things they enjoy and excel at. I was taught how to bake, and so I bake.'

He nodded. 'It seems a bitter irony that while life has clothed me with curses, in my hand I hold a blessing.'

She blinked. 'You're very strange sometimes, but somehow it makes sense.'

He chuckled in a low voice. 'I would not expect a baker's girl to understand.'

She felt slightly upset at his jab, and her face must have told him so.

His face broke into a smile, and she realised he was joking, exclaiming 'I do believe that is the first time I have seen you smile.'

It stayed on his face. 'I do not believe it will be the last.'

It had the desired result, and she looked away with a broader smile on her face. 'I heard today that they are going to try and rebuild the Opera house.'

His face hardened. 'I suppose I should expect that.'

'Will you go back?'

He considered the question, not looking at her. 'I wish to but I do not know if that would be wise.'

She didn't say anything, but she had heard of the events surrounding the night when she hid him.

The chandelier dropped from the ceiling, nearly killing half of the people in there, and while that was happening, they described a man who looked more like a beast as grabbing the lead singer Christine Daae and falling through the floor.

No, perhaps it would not be wise for him to return.

'You are welcome to stay here.' She said softly, breaking the spell. 'I do not have much to offer but it is all I have.'

'It is more than adequate.' He reassured.

'Forgive me, but I have to ask. There was talk of Christine Daae in connection with you.' She blurted suddenly.

He tensed all over, and his soft eyes were now flashing. She knows now, she knows and she will never help me again

'I merely ask in regard to my own safety. I am not afraid of you, but should I be?' She asked, her voice had a gentle edge.

'You should leave.' He answered curtly.

'I meant no offense. But I am a woman alone and no one knows I come here. You can understand my concerns.' She replied eloquently. 'However I saw your face when I spoke her name, and now I have my answer.'

'And what is your answer?' He glared at her.

'I think you were in love with her monsieur.' She answered simply, her gaze unfaltering although her hands trembled.

She.. how could she know?

'There is nothing a gargoyle like me knows of love. Please leave.'

'Do not refer to yourself as such.' She cut in, feeling bolder. 'The more you tell yourself a lie, the more the lie becomes the truth.'

'Perhaps it is you who is lying madame.' His voice was still.

'I never lie to my friends.' A smile was back on her face, and she squeezed his hand gently before standing. 'It is late and I must rise earlier then I care to tomorrow.'

He nodded dumbly, still reeling from the kindly way she touched him.

'Eat, and drink, and I will be back tomorrow.' She gave him another beautiful smile and started towards the door.

He kicked himself for having nothing to say in reply. 'I will see you tomorrow.'

'I look forward to it.' She blushed slightly, and quickly ran from there. Could you sound more school girlish?

As he lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling, he pondered once again why such a beautiful woman would bother to help him.
Especially as she had seen the face under the mask.

He felt a warm feeling in his chest when her words came to mind again

"I never lie to my friends"

Maybe, just maybe, she can help me to be more then a monster.