#post-final lair

[nerdywriter36]

POTOber Day 16 - "Miss Daaé Has Returned"

day 16 prompts - aftermath/recovery/the Daroga

AO3

FFN

As Nadir approached the underground home, his heart sank a bit seeing the state it was in; the windows were broken, the door was wide open, letting him see the chaos inside the home itself. His friend had prided himself on keeping his dwelling clean and in pristine shape, but what had been done to it was a far cry from that.

It had been turned completely upside down, he realized as he stepped through the front door. Furniture overturned, books thrown from the shelves. None of the destruction had anything to do with someone trying to find the Phantom, and yet, it had happened anyway. Just to throw his life even more out of balance than it already was.

With a sigh, Nadir ventured further into the house, only slightly worried for his friend's safety. He knew that Erik was wise enough not to hurt himself in the grand scheme of things, his morphine addiction considered, but he wanted to make sure of that.

"Erik?" he called out as he stepped into the parlour and found the organ completely destroyed and his friend's prized sheet music torn and cast all over the floor. He was beginning to worry a bit more about his friend's wellbeing after seeing all of this. "Erik, where are you?"

Still no response. Nadir swallowed hard and continued his search of the home, finding that the only room left untouched was the spare bedroom filled with his mother's furniture. It had been Christine Daaé's room whenever she visited, he recalled. It made sense, then, that Erik would have left it untouched, his love for the young woman too strong for him to fathom destroying it.

"Erik!" the ex-Daroga called out again, shaking his head when he still heard nothing. He knocked on his friend's bedroom door, but took a step inside only moments later, then froze. There was Erik, on the ground leaning up against one of his bookshelves, looking to be in terrible condition. Something was very wrong.

"Daroga...I didn't think I'd see you again," his friend said, his voice strained and his smile weak. "I assumed I would be alone in death, just as I am in...in everything else."

"Erik, hush, for goodness' sake," Nadir replied as he rushed over to the other man's side and crouched next to him. A quick test of Erik's heartbeat gave him more proof that something was wrong; it was fast, erratic. "What has happened?"

"An attack of sorts...I can't really explain it," Erik said quietly. "Not quite a heart attack, I don't think, but something like it. The pain in...in my arm and chest when it happens is blinding."

"And it's happened before?" Nadir asked with a frown.

His friend nodded slowly. "At least twice. This one was worse than the others," he managed to explain as he tried to adjust his position, only to wince and quickly suck in a breath as he did.

"Alright, stop moving. It'll be okay." Nadir looked around the room, his eyes settling begrudgingly on the coffin that Erik insisted upon sleeping in. "Let me help you to bed, come on."

"No, not here. In the other room," Erik replied, noticeably speaking through gritted teeth. "If I'm to die...I just want it to be in a place where she was happy once. No other room in this house fits that bill anymore."

Nadir sighed and set a hand on his friend's shoulder. "It's a farther walk. Will you be alright to make it there?" he asked.

"Yes, I'll be fine," Erik nodded. "Not that it really matters anymore. This sort of pain isn't comparable to everything else I'm feeling right now. Now that she's gone."

"I know, Erik. I'm sorry," Nadir said softly. "You...you'll get past this. This, whatever this bout of illness is, it's going to be fine, I promise. Let me help you up, come on."

Getting to his feet, he grasped his friend's hands and gently pulled him to his feet, then wrapped an arm around him as Erik draped his arm over his shoulder. "Just move slowly."

He saw Erik nod, but he didn't say anything else, so Nadir began to lead him towards Christine's old room. They moved slowly, even pausing for a few moments to simply let Erik breathe and get his bearings; Nadir had feared he might collapse on him if the expression of discomfort on his face was anything to go off of, but Erik insisted that he was fine and he knew better than to question it. He would only get snapped at...though he was beginning to wonder if Erik even had the energy to do that anymore.

It pained him more than he cared to admit to think about his friend dying. They had been through so much together and he had thought that Erik would meet his untimely end before, but it had never had any substance. Now, though, it did, and he wondered how much longer the former Phantom had. He had never looked so...broken, dejected before, and it was terrifying.

Finally, the pair reached Christine's former room and Nadir carefully helped Erik onto the bed, propping him up with a few pillows. "I'm going to go get you some water and make you something small to eat. We need to keep up your strength," he said before he turned to leave, only to pause and look back when Erik grasped his sleeve.

His friend gave him a small smile. "I appreciate it, but...you must know I don't have much time left, Daroga," he said quietly. "I know you can tell. You're smart enough to recognize that."

"Well, I...I can tell that you're ill, but we can fix that. Perhaps we can have a doctor see you, you could come to my home for a short while when you're feeling a bit better and a doctor can come to visit," Nadir proposed.

"No doctor can fix a broken heart, Nadir," Erik said with a quiet sigh. "That's what's killing me, not whatever condition ails me now."

"Broken hearts can mend, my friend. No one is saying that this will kill you except for you yourself, and you always have been rather morbid."

His friend cracked a weak smile. "Perhaps, yes, but...I know what's happening, Daroga."

Nadir set his jaw as he bit back any show of emotion that threatened to overtake him. He hated how certain his friend was, but he had to admit that he was seeing the same signs. That didn't mean he had to let Erik know that, though.

"You'll be alright," he said softly, setting a hand on Erik's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'll only be a moment. Just rest, my friend."

[nerdywriter36]

POTOber Day 2 - "The Level of Your Eyes"

day 2 prompts: garrote/choking/gagged

here's the oneshot for day 2! struggled a little with this one, so i hope it came out okay haha. enjoy!

AO3

FFN

A promise broken yet again. He seemed to be quite the expert in that area. Betraying people that mattered to him, that is. First Christine, his dear Christine, and now Nadir, his only friend in the world as well.

Erik rubbed at his eyes, his fingers coming away damp from the tears that had been pooling, then set his hand against his forehead with a sigh. His grand illusion, his alter ego, the Phantom, had finally been brought to his knees. The Garnier burned, he was forced from his home (if one could even call it that), and now, he lay on a pathetic excuse for a bed in a dark hovel tucked away in a backstreet of Paris.

He had paid a pretty penny to get a room on his own, though he suspected his threatening demeanour would have been enough to convince the owner of the dump he was in to leave him be. Either way, he just needed a place to lay low before he could make a proper escape. Not being able to hide meant getting caught, and getting caught meant his inevitable execution, but he was set on evading death yet again.

He hadn't gotten much sleep, as much as he wished he could just forget everything that had happened that night, but closing his eyes brought it all back; strangling Piangi, dragging Christine down to his lair, practically choking the young Vicomte to death while he forced Christine to make a choice that no one should ever have to make. His shame all came flooding back if he thought about it too hard.

He hadn't even flinched when he'd thrown and tightened his garroting wire around Piangi's neck. Hardly broke a sweat. He had treated it like something so mundane, so routine, as he'd felt the twitching stop and grabbed the tenor's cloak to run onstage and join Christine in their duet. It was like nothing he had ever said about killing people, killing the innocent, mattered anymore.

Buquet, he could justify. That man had snooped around too much for his own good, yes, but he had preyed too much on the young, innocent ballerinas too much for Erik to allow. They may have irritated him with their giggling and gossip, but they didn't deserve to be ogled and harassed the way they were around that man, he had earned his demise. Piangi, on the other hand...he had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Nadir had made him promise not to kill again after he left Persia. How could he possibly hope to explain this, what had happened? He couldn't even be sure that he could sneak down to the Rue de Rivoli and be welcomed into his friend's home. Perhaps he wouldn't even be allowed to consider Nadir a friend anymore.

And Christine. His darling Christine. He had betrayed her in the most spectacular way; he would never be worthy of her love, her affections, her concern. He had ruined that, but he hadn't even hesitated. He had gripped that wire around those men's necks just as tightly as he ever would, no matter what was at stake. Even the love of the only woman he had ever loved in his entire life.

Fresh tears filled his eyes and he rolled over to bury his face in his pillow to hide from his own shame, choking out a sob as he began to entertain the idea of slipping the garroting wire around his own neck. Why not end it all? He'd betrayed the only two people who might have mourned his death; now that he'd lost them, what would it matter if he was gone? No one would even notice.