"Are you excited about America Gustave?" Christine questioned as she slipped her gloves off of her hands. She enjoyed these quiet evenings that she got to spend with Gustave in her cabin. Raoul spent his time drinking away in the bar on board. And as terrible as it was for a wife to admit, it was more comfortable in the cabin when Raoul was away. Especially with Gustave. They had never gotten along and that was one thing that she yearned for above all else.
Even if he weren't Raoul's.
She wondered if Raoul ever wondered about Gustave. He had been such a healthy premature little boy. Born a whole month before he was meant to be born. But not really, he was born exactly on time. Nine months since she had last seen her masked phantom. Truly a ghost in her memory now.
Ten years and she had heard no word from him. No letter. Nothing.
Gustave's conception had been easy to cover up. She spent her wedding night gravely ill, brushed aside as a mixture of anxiety and the tight corset that she had worn. The next day Raoul was forced to tend to business a few towns away and it was decided that Christine was not in well enough health to travel alongside him.
Their wedding night had been postponed.
A few weeks later, upon their first night as woman and man she found that Raoul did not seem to notice that she was not an intact virgin – and if he did he never said a word. Perhaps he believed that with all of her years as a dancer she had broken it. He would never dare believe that she had touched that hideous beast that taught her to sing.
It had been so wrong to lie to him and tell him just a week later that she believed herself to be pregnant. She had already known for a week that she was. A week before she had ever slept with her husband.
That one beautiful night, a moonless night, had brought more than she had bargained. She had only meant to journey to the cemetery to visit her father's grave and instead found herself swept into the arms of the man that she loved. It was only in the morning that she realized as she pulled her cloak across her bare form, that it was her wedding day and her lover was gone.
No note. Nothing.
"I can't wait to see the sights! Is the theatre going to be large?"
"It will be smaller than what you're used to, I'm certain. New York is such a small city, so much crammed into small blocks." Christine brushed her hand through her little boy's hair, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"Rogers and Hammerstein were smart to higher you mother."
"I'm certain you'll love the city." Christine smiled, hiding the frown that threatened to surface. She and Raoul had had to nearly beg the composers to higher her to come and sing. Mainly Raoul, who was desperate to use her talents to pay off his ever rising debts.
He had started to drink when Gustave had turned four. With a busybody little boy to care for Christine had lost interest in her husband. Though he constantly berated her to let the nanny put their son to bed, she insisted that she was the one who needed to stay by his side until he fell asleep. He started to drift away in the evenings, going to taverns to spend his night with liquor if his lady wouldn't tend to him.
She knew his alcoholism was her fault. But she couldn't be the woman he so desperately needed if he couldn't be the man she desired. It wasn't his fault, it was purely her own.
"Is it big?"
"Massive!" Christine laughed as Gustave danced around in front of her. "But I have only seen pictures. This is my first time across the sea as well."
"Mother will you sing for me?" Gustave questioned as he stopped his merry dancing in front of the piano. "Father is not here to tell you to stop. I don't think he likes it when you sing."
"He has had headaches from being on this ship for so long." Christine explained, rising to her feet and moving towards the piano she had had moved into her cabin. "We were reacquainted when we were younger because of my voice." It had nearly been ten years.
"What do they wish for you to sing?"
"They will give me my music once we arrive. But I do have an old piece of music here. One of my old favourites." She remembered all too well that she only got to sing the song because of her phantom. He had caused the backdrop to fall on Carlotta.
"Think of Me." Gustave snatched the sheet music out of her hands, his eyes hungrily looking at the notes and the music. "It's beautiful."
"You've yet to hear it, silly!" Christine took the music back from her son, placing it on the piano.
"Wait!" Gustave stopped her from sitting down. He sat down at the piano and began to play the notes, with slight hesitancy but with a sureness that terrified her. He was born a natural at the instrument. Just like his father.
"When we return home to Paris I would like to get you your own sheet music." Christine pressed a kiss to the top of Gustave's head.
"I have these songs in my head that I would like to play."
"Share with me one." Christine sat on the edge of the piano bench. She was curious to see if Gustave could compose like his father could.
Gustave scratched his head for a moment before starting to play the song that had been haunting him for days. It was a beautiful song that flowed like a piece that he had been practicing for years. It was freeing to have the song out of his mind and filling the air.
"Now will you sing?"
"Of course." Christine smiled down at her son. He wasted no time in starting the song over, playing it with frightening accuracy. He never liked to make mistakes.
"Think of me, think of fondly…"
Christine could remember that day like it were yesterday. She was brimming with excitement as she stood before the audience and sang her first solo for anyone other than the Phantom. The applause had been deafening and it thrilled her like nothing else. She knew that he would be pleased.
"What is this noise?" Raoul roared as he barreled through the door, stumbling over his own two feet.
Gustave reeled his hands away from the piano, starring up at his father. "I wanted to hear mother sing."
"That song…" Raoul smiled vaguely, "What's happened to us since then?"
"Not with Gustave here," Christine pressed, making haste to reach her husband before he collapsed in a drunken heap in the middle of the floor. "Gustave, run along to your room. I'll see you in the morning love."
Raoul laughed coldly, "Love."
"Go." Christine nodded to the door, watching sadly as her son made a slow trek towards the door. His eyes were wide and sad as he glanced back at the piano. "Good night mother, good night father. I love you both."
"Raoul!" Christine hissed, "You mustn't come back when Gustave's here. I don't want him to see you like this."
"Like what?"
"Drunk." Christine led him to the sofa, helping him sit down. "How much have you had to drink?"
"Not nearly enough." Raoul gritted, leaning back. "Get me a glass of that champagne I had brought up last night."
Christine frowned as she did as he asked. After everything she had done to him, how could she deny him the right to a glass of champagne?
A/N: Just a little diddy I came up with after thinking of how long the three of them had to have been on that voyage from France! I may write more little One-Shots as things come up in my mind.