Erik is NOT Dead (Phantom of the Opera one-shots)

Maskless and Voiceless

Author's Note:

Dear Readers,

This one-shot is based solely on the book The Canary Trainer (which I just finished reading this evening....yep, it got in my blood). The basic premise is that Erik can't talk without his mask. I hope you like it! I know I've been writing weird stuff lately but...hey, we all have those days (or in my case...months...)

sarahlet2999

*****

"But, Erik, why?" I whine, purposefully crafting my voice with the most pleading tones I could produce. "Please, why can't you remove your mask? We are to be married and I have never seen the face of my fiancé!"

"Christine, you don't understand! My mask...it must remain on! Can you not be happy with this? Surely it is a masterpiece? Almost normal?" He responds, apparently a little frustrated with my obsession over that awful piece of porcelain that adorns his face always.

He is madder than I ever thought he could be. Normal? That mask? Hardly! There is no movement to the solid object and I agitate over the covering. Other than being quite disturbing in its single unexplainable expression, it is also concealing.

He hides everything from me behind that item.

"No, it is not even close to normal, my dearest love! Now, please, won't you remove it? For me? So I may see the face of–" He roars at me, his temper loosened the moment I mention his face a second time.

"You will never see my face!" Towering over me, he succeeds in terrifying me. Nothing is as frightening as my husband when he in furious. I cower before him and cover my face on impulse, watching through my fingers as his anger melts away and abject horror is left within his golden irises.

"Forgive me!" He falls to my feet and grasps at my skirts, lightly brushing stone lips against the trembling cloth. "Forgive your horrible husband!"

How can I remain mad at so heartfelt a plea but, while I may forgive him, I still wish to see beneath the mask.

Kneeling before me, I grasp his covered face in my hands and lightly plant a quiet kiss against his white forehead.

"How can I not forgive you? I love you." My words seem to console him as he leans against my shoulder and weeps silently.

"Tell me why you can't remove your mask. Tell me. I won't hate you for it." I know that is likely his fear. Every other thing I have struggled to drag from him have involved his damned self-loathing.

"You would..." He whimpers, "You would despise me. You would know it was a monster to whom you had promised yourself. A creature who requires a mask to even communicate to those of your kind."

His words leave me puzzled but I continue to ask questions as opposed to making assumptions.

"Can't speak? Please explain, Erik. I don't understand." His beautiful voice catching several times, he endeavors to remove my confusions,

"Erik's poor mother...poor woman...always told him, 'never speak without your mask!' 'Boy, your mask! You mustn't speak!' 'You're nothing but a monster, a creature, without your mask. Always keep it on if the world is to see you anything close to human'. Erik wore it so often, and never once was without it when speaking that he has quite lost the capably to talk without it. Besides, a monster lurks beneath this mask, you wouldn't want to see it. I would lose you!"

Deep inside my chest, my heart cracks at his shaky response, clueing me into more pieces of his history. Now, I knew already my chosen mate wasn't handsome or desirable. I hadn't chosen him for any outside reason though I didn't and still don't object to his appearance.