Christine's POV

While Erik went out looking for Gustave, I woke and tended to some chores that needed to be done. But that wasn't all I was planning on doing. No. In the late afternoon when I should have been making dinner, I ventured out to Coney Island, but not for a Sunday walk. I had some business to take care of. I entered the pub on the other side of Coney Island, already seeing my target sitting on the bar stool. I didn't hesitate a single moment as I stormed my way up to the stool, spun the bitch around and slapped Meg hard across the face.

"Don't you ever make a fool out of Erik in public ever again!" I snapped.

"Christine!" she growled. "You have a lot of nerve coming in here and doing this to me."

"How could you, Meg? How could you have made a fool out of Erik?"

Meg rubbed her sore cheek, before turning to sip on her drink.

"He deserved it, Christine."

"You were fired on your own actions, Meg. Erik was only doing what he thought was right for the protection of his family and employees. Who's to say that you won't do it again next season to someone else? Who's to say that you won't hurt somebody next time?"

"If I'm going to hurt anyone, it's going to be Erik. He took away my job! Because of him, I'm working the streets!"

"Don't you ever hurt him, Meg! He's a good man!"

Meg laughed, taking another sip of her drink.

"You don't know him the way I do."

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?" she giggled. "What do I mean? I'm sure you think he's a changed man, Christine, but you don't know about his nights at the whore houses, or the drugs…He isn't who you think he is."

Was Meg telling the truth? Or was she lying again?

"Just…just stay away from my family."

"Having second thoughts about him, are we? It's time to go home, Christine… back to Paris where you belong."

I didn't say another word, only left the bar to head back home. Had Erik been lying to me? Had he been lying to get what he wished? But then again, Meg could have been lying as well just to get me to hate Erik. It was nearly eight by the time I made it back. When I entered the flat, it was in complete darkness, save for a few candles that were lit. I hung up my jacket, hearing the phonograph playing from inside of Erik's bedroom. As I headed down the hall, I opened the guest bedroom door to find Gustave already fast asleep beneath the blankets. I smiled, and leaned down to kiss him goodnight, his hair damp and smelling like shampoo. Had Erik showered him?

"Sleep tight, pumpkin."

After closing the door, I opened Erik's bedroom door and entered. The French doors on the other side of the room were wide open, the light breeze blowing the drapes inward. The phonograph was softly playing on Erik's vanity as the night air blew into the room.

"Erik?"

I stepped through the French doors and onto his balcony, spotting him laying on his lounger and sipping on a glass of wine. His mask was still on, and he was dressed in his robe, a look of worriment displayed across his face.

"Erik?"

He didn't look at me, only fingered his glass.

"And where have you been?"

"I stepped out."

"I was worried, Christine."

"I'm sorry, Erik."

He nodded. "Why don't you change and join me?"

I agreed to do just that, walking back inside and slipping into my nightgown. Afterwards, I tore a large blanket from off the bed and draped it around me, rejoining Erik on his lounger.

"Well, are you going to tell me where you went?"

"Nowhere in particular."

"You went to see Meg, didn't you?"

"Erik-"

"Don't lie to me…"

I sighed. "I did…"

"Why couldn't you just leave things as they were? Why did you have to go and make them worse?"

"Because I care for you, Erik. She doesn't have a right to do that shit."

Erik only shook his head, obviously taking no chances at getting into a huge confrontation with me.

"Your dinner is on the kitchen counter." Erik said, waving his arm in that direction. "I saved you a plate."

Erik saved me dinner? Raoul never did that. Not that he ever cooked, but he never saved me a plate if I were out running errands or taking a stroll through our yard. I was feeling a bit hungry. I didn't say another word and stood up to head out to the kitchen, and, just as he said, my dinner was sitting on the kitchen counter, covered with a plate. I pulled back the top, noticing a full serving of pasta and a piece of garlic bread placed there. Erik was such a gentleman…

I sat down and began to indulge myself in the delicious meal Erik had cooked. A few moments later, Erik came walking out, pouring me a glass of milk and placing it down beside me.

"Thank you." I said, reaching for it.

He walked behind me, embracing my curls with his hand, sitting down beside me.

"Erik, this is delicious."

He chuckled. "Not bad for an amateur cook."

"Amateur?" I questioned. "This tastes amazing."

"Gustave thought the same."

I smiled, and looked over, noticing that his palm was covered in scars. I wiped my mouth, reaching over to rub the lumpy lacerations.

"You have them here too?" I questioned.

Erik looked down at my fingers that were gently rubbing the scars.

"Unfortunately, yes. But those were self inflicted."

"Self inflicted?"

He nodded. "My mother forbid mirrors hanging in our household. On my birthday I asked for a mirror. My mother handed me the one from her bedroom, and it was through that very mirror that I saw my reflection for the first time. I was completely hideous, so hideous that I smashed the mirror into pieces, causing it to cut my hands."

"You're not ugly, Erik…"

Erik lightly squeezed my hand, smiling from the corner of his mouth.

"That's a very kind thing to say."

"When is your birthday?"

"October 31st."

"Halloween?"

He nodded. "A monster born on the eve where monster's are free to come and go as they please…God had his fun with me."

I finished with my meal, attempting to get up to clean my dishes, but Erik swiped them from right under my nose.

"Erik-"

"Don't argue with me, Christine."

There was something about the way he was standing at the sink that made him look so handsome. I rose from my seat, quietly walking up behind him, wrapping my arms around his front lovingly.

"Christine?"

I rested my head against his back, smiling and lightly sighing. Was this really what loving someone felt like?

Erik's POV

I felt Christine's arms wrapping around me. No one had ever touched me like this before. Was this really what it felt like to be loved?

"So what did you and Gustave do today?"

I placed the clean dishes in the strainer, turning to face my angel.

"I took him horseback riding."

Her eyes widened. "What? Riding?"

I nodded. "Why does that surprise you?"

"Because Raoul never allowed it."

I chuckled, heading back to my room with Christine following me.

"I think he's getting the hang of it. Though, he is a Mulheim by blood."

"Mulheim?"

I closed the door behind us. "Yes, it's my surname."

"Mulheim? Erik Mulheim?"

"That would be correct."

"I'll change his name if you'd like?"

I spun around, my heart pounding against my chest.

"What?"

"Gustave. I'll change his last name to what it should be."

If there was one thing I didn't want to do, it was make Gustave feel uncomfortable. He had been a DeChagny his whole life! Not only that, but we were just getting to know each other. If he woke up and found that his name was no longer what it used to be, there was no telling what sort of psychological damage it would do.

"No, Christine." I said. "As kind as it is-"

"It's only right, Erik." she interrupted. "He is your heir. He is the only one that could carry on your family name."

"If Gustave wishes to be a DeChagny for the rest of his days, so be it. What ever makes him happy. This shouldn't be something forced upon him. If my son decides that he wants to take my last name, only then will I allow us to change it."

"I'll bring it up to him tomorrow morning at breakfast then."

"No." I held up my hand in protest. "Gustave and I have just started building our relationship. I don't want to rush anything on him, Christine. Let he and I just live out these few months and see what happens. I only want to take things one small step at a time."

I laid down on my bed as the phonograph still played in the background. Christine joined me, laying her head against my chest as the soft music continued to play. In all of the ten years spent on Coney Island, never had I spent a night like this one curled up on my bed with the love of my life laying beside me.

"Erik?" she cooed.

"Yes, Christine?"

"I just want you to know that I really am enjoying my time spent here."

I smiled. "I believe you. Now, would you do something for me?"

I looked down at my angel, her beautiful face sending shivers down my spine.

"Every October 31st, I hold a ball for my employees to celebrate the successful season. For eight years I have gone alone…would you accompany me?"

Her face lit up with excitement. "I'd love to go with you."

"Gustave can come as well, it's a masquerade ball."

And then, my angel kissed me.

"Sounds lovely."

This was all so new to me, having this woman kiss me. As our kiss deepened, I leaned against her, pining her arms above her head as I did so. I felt her grasping the lining of my trousers as she placed several kisses against my neck. But I couldn't allow her to do this in the comfort of my bed… If Gustave walked in and seen us like this, he would probably never forgive me.

"Christine… angel-" I gently pushed her away, standing up from where I was laying. "We can't act this way…not here."

"Why not?"

"You're wonderful, really, but…Oh, Christine, if Gustave sees us-"

"I understand." she seemed a bit saddened by my decline, but it was for the best.

"Until we decide what to do about everything, at least."

I closed the French doors and turned off the phonograph before tucking Christine in.

"Get some rest, Christine." I said, caressing her cheek.

"Erik?"

I turned around to see her smiling face. "Kiss me goodnight."

"Anything for you." I leaned over her, lifting the edge of my mask to press my lips against her own.

"Goodnight, Christine."

Never had I ever kissed a woman goodnight before. But kissing Christine goodnight was one of the most special things I had ever shared with her.

"Sleep well, Erik."

And with that I left Christine alone and headed out to spend the remainder of the night buried in my work.

Gustave's POV

I awoke from a terrible nightmare. I couldn't remember what exactly it was about, but it had caused me to wake. I was too scared to go back to sleep and so I decided to get up and find my mother. I tiptoed out into the hall, creeping towards Mister Y's bedroom. After peeking through the door, I approached my mother's sleeping form.

"Mother..." I shook her shoulder, hoping she would wake, but sadly, she only groaned and rolled over.

"Mother… Mother, please wake up."

She must have been extremely exhausted because she didn't wake. Deciding to let her sleep, I walked out and closed the door behind me. I was about to go back into my bedroom when I noticed a few candles burning out in the family room. Curious, I walked out to find Mister Y hunched over his work, writing away with his pen. Yes, I could have gone back to bed, but I wanted comfort from someone, even if that person was Mister Y. I stood in front of his desk, watching him work. He didn't even notice me at first. I knew he wasn't used to having a child whimpering for comfort. I stood there for several minutes looking up at him. He didn't even notice me until he reached over to relight a candle that had gone out. He paused at his work, his eyes looking down at me. And then, very slowly, he clicked his pen shut and gracefully sat back in his chair, careful not to make any sudden movements.

"Isn't it way past your bedtime?" he slowly questioned.

"I…I had a bad dream."

There was an awkward silence and then nothing. What did I expect? This was Mister Y… When nothing happened, I placed my head down and turned to journey back to bed. That was until Mister Y called for me.

"Gustave, wait…"

I turned to face him.

"Come here."

Was this really happening? The only one who ever comforted me after a bad dream was my mother. Even in Paris, Raoul never helped me. He always scolded me and told me that I was too big to be crying over nightmares.

I slowly approached him, only to have him hold out his arms and lift me up onto his knee.

"It was only a dream, Gustave." he said, running his hands through my blonde locks. "A dream, and nothing more. I get nightmares all the time, but I just have to remember that they're just dreams."

"They're scary." I said, pressing my head against his chest.

"Dreams can't hurt you, Gustave."

"What are you doing?"

"Writing music."

"I'm hungry, Mister Y"

He chuckled, standing up and lifting me into his arms.

"You know what always helps me with my nightmares on a cold night?"

"What?" I questioned.

"Hot chocolate."

Mister Y sat me down on the kitchen counter, my body beginning to shiver.

"Look at you, Gustave. You're wearing summer pajamas."

He took off his robe and placed it over my shoulders. It was way too big for me, the long, black sleeves draping over my hands.

"It's too big." I held up my arms showing him the long sleeves.

"It's warm." he said, placing a kettle over the stove. "Besides, if you're anything like me you'll grow to be big and tall."

As I played with the sleeves, Mister Y rolled his eyes and folded them back so they weren't covering my hands. From the cabinet, Mister Y took out some chocolate fudge along with two mugs.

"I had a fun day today, Mister Y."

A small smile formed across his mouth. "I'm glad, Gustave. I'm hoping we can spend more days like that together… would you like that?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Good." He placed a mug in front of me. "Fill up the mugs with some chocolate."

I opened the jar of fudge, and began pouring the chocolaty substance into one of them.

"It comes out fast." he warned. "Don't-" but it was too late. The chocolate fudge began to overflow out of the mug.

"Ooops." I was afraid Mister Y was going to become angry at me, but he only picked up the over flowing mug and poured some of the fudge into the empty one.

"You should come with a warning label." he teased, smearing some chocolate across my cheek.

I giggled, and wiped the chocolate with the back of my hand, before licking it.

"Here." Mister Y handed me my cup of hot chocolate. "Be careful, it's hot."

"Could I have some cookies?"

He smiled. "Can Gustave have some cookies?"

"Please, Mister Y?"

"All right, but just a few." He went into the top shelf and brought down the box of Coney Island animal crackers. "Here…"

As I chewed one that was shaped like a bear, I couldn't help but notice Mister Y looking down at his mug that was filled with hot chocolate. I knew he had made it for himself, but I also knew that he couldn't drink it without removing his mask.

"Mister Y, aren't you going to drink yours?"

"Maybe later."

"It'll get cold… Cold chocolate isn't good. Besides, you said hot chocolate makes your nightmares all better."

But Mister Y didn't say anything.

"You can take off your mask, Mister Y." I said. His eyes instantly moved to my own as if he didn't believe what he was hearing. "I won't look."

"Gustave-"

"Please, Mister Y." I begged. "Drink your hot chocolate."

I kept my eyes on my mug as he did as I asked him to. When I dared to move my eyes upward, he was standing there against the sink, the good half of his face facing me. With the way I was sitting on the counter, his flawless side was all I could see. As he stood there sipping on his hot chocolate, by the way he was standing and appeared, it was as if he were a normal man. By my side, his mask was placed in my reach. Curious, I picked it up and looked inside of it only to find faded blood stains. Did his mask truly agitate his skin?

"Does it hurt you?"

Mister Y didn't turn, in fear of showing off his deformity. Instead, his eyes moved towards me and snatched the mask out of my grasp.

"Please don't play with my mask, Gustave." he began. "You'll… You'll get chocolate on it."

But I knew the real reason why he didn't want me messing with his mask. I knew he didn't want me to feel bad for making him wear it all the time. When my hot chocolate was all gone, I yawned and Mister Y took away my mug after placing his mask back on.

"Oh, Gustave…" Mister Y wet a wash cloth and wiped my chocolate stained mouth. "Your mouth is a mess."

From in the next room, the grandfather clock struck midnight. Mister Y picked me up into his arms and carried me down the hall to the guest bedroom. After gently placing me down beneath the covers, he tucked me in and caressed the side of my head.

"Sleep well, Gustave."

As he began to rise, I pulled on his shirt, still noticing that he had let me stay wrapped within his warm robe.

"Mister Y?"

He turned. "Yes, Gustave?"

"Mother always kisses me goodnight."

He nodded. "Indeed, she does."

"Mother's not here, so could you kiss me goodnight?"

It was as if his heart had stopped within his chest. He stood there in shock as if all of this weren't happening.

"You're sure?"

I nodded, shifting my body to the side and closing my eyes. And then, if only for a few minor seconds, I felt his moist lips come down over my forehead. They didn't feel like mother's. His lips were puffier and much colder…but his kiss felt right.

"Goodnight, Gustave."

"Goodnight, Mister Y."

And as he left, I thought that maybe Mister Y wasn't such a bad person after all. Perhaps he just wanted to be loved like everyone else…

Some more father/son fluff! But there will be times in the future that this won't be all peaches and cream. Anyway, please review. In ten days I will be going to Las Vegas so there will probably be a week with no updates. Gonna be a very busy week and won't be in until after midnight most days. Especially the night I go see Phantom and take the back stage tour. But there will probably be 3 or 4 more updates before my trip, so enjoy!