Chapter 20: Back at Square One
6 July 1869
"Paris?" Christine looked at her father, confused. "Pére, we live in this cottage. Why would we go to the city?"
"Little Lotte, I don't think you should question your pére right now." Erik made eye contact with Gustave, who nodded slightly. Upon hearing a knock at the front door, he took her hand and added, "why don't we go see Oncle Louis, little Lotte?"
"But Erik, what does Pére mean? Won't you tell me?"
"Christine, it is not my tale to tell. Let your Pére tell you… When he is ready."
Satisfied with his answer, Christine followed Erik's lead, leaving Gustave behind in the living room. Erik opened the door, and Louis entered the cottage, his uniform still as crisp as ever. "Oncle Louis! You're here!" Erik grinned at the officer while Christine looked at Louis warily.
"Erik, ma'boy, it has only been a week. Really now." Although he wouldn't admit it to the boy, he was always thrilled to have yet another chance to see him again. Noticing Christine's glum look upon her rosy face, he knelt down in front of her and asked softly, "and what about you, Christine? Why are you so saddened?"
Christine released a small huff. "Oncle Louis, Pére wants us to move to Paris."
"I see. So he has finally moved on," he murmured. Getting back up, he told the girl kindly, "really now? Are you not excited to move?"
"That's the problem, Oncle Louis! I don't want to leave this cottage! I want to see it all the city has, but I don't want to live there!" She stamped her foot in anger.
"Now now, little Lotte," Erik scolded sternly. "That is not how a little girl should behave."
She forced her hand off of Erik's. "Erik, you always behave like this! Don't tell me what to do, Erik! I will not do what little girls do! No, I won't!" She cast one final hurtful glance at Erik and Louis, then broke out in a run back to her room.
"Christine! Christ-" Erik began to sprint after her, only to be stopped by Louis's firm hand on his own hand.
"Stop, Erik."
"What do you mean, stop?" Erik turned around to face Louis, his amber eyes staring directly into the latter's emerald-turning-amber.
"I meant what I said. Let Christine go."
This was what Gustave saw as he walked into the hallway. It seemed rather odd, Erik looking like a twisted reflection of Louis's. "What's up with all the commotion?"
Both officer and teen turned and shot daggers at Gustave for interrupting their conversation. "Just leave, Gustave. You're not helping."
"Christine is in her bedroom."
Casting one final look at Louis and Erik, Gustave followed his daughter's path back to her room, fading into the shadows of the hallway.
With the coast finally clear, they both turned to face each other once again.
"And what do you mean to tell me, Monsieur?" Erik sn
eered as his eyes became ablaze once more. His face now bore an uncanny resemblance to an inflamed skull.
Louis refused to back down. With equal hostility, he fired back, "well, little Erik, I told you to leave her alone! She is quite clearly emotionally fragile right now!"
"Oh really? Do pray tell me what you thi-" Louis stumbled back surprisingly as the fire in Erik's eyes suddenly died out, and the boy toppled down in front of Louis.
Suddenly concerned for his pupil, Louis too dropped down and pulled Erik back up. Seeing that the boy was unconscious, he took the opportunity to carry him back to the living room. Despite everything that just happened between them, he refused to hold onto the past. Sitting down, Louis laid Erik down along the length of the couch, setting the boy's head on his lap. Louis looked at Erik's face silently, noting that it looked pained as the lips let out a soft moan.
"No… Erik won't do it again… No… Don't hurt Erik… Stay away…" The boy shifted his head slightly. "No… Was not… Him? No… Erik didn't mean to… No… Christine…! Oncle Louis!" He cried the names out loud, startling Louis. He looked upon the boy's pale face worriedly and gently stroked the sunken cheeks.
"Ma'boy… I wonder what exactly are you thinking of…"
XXXX
At around the same time, Gustave found Christine sprawled upon her bed, staring at the door blankly. He sat down next to her and softly said, "ma chérie, what bothers your mind so?"
Christine faced her father, voice laced with hurt. "why do we have to leave this cottage, Pére? I don't understand." Tears were beginning to form on her eyelashes. "Why are we even here, Pére?"
He exhaled and pulled his daughter close. "Ma chérie, you will probably not understand the reason why I moved. But let me tell you this: I was so hurt when your Mère died that I could not do anything. So your Oncle Louis suggested that I move away for some time."
"But why not stay here forever, Pére? Why do we have to return?"
"Because I did not plan on staying here for long. I had planned to return in a year or so after your Mère died, but…" His grey eyes became rather distant, remembering Hannah's warm blue eyes. He could feel his heart being crushed from inside, just thinking of her. But then he looked down at Christine, with her identical blue eyes, and the feeling of defeat gave way for peace and contentment.
"But what, Pére?"
"You, ma chérie, you were all too insistent on staying here that I didn't want to leave. But I must return. I need to go back to work, make the money to support us. You understand this, don't you?"
Christine nodded. "Oui, Pére… But why don't we stay here? Why do we have to go to Paris and not Cherbourg?"
Gustave got up from the bed and faced Christine. His hunched figure shadowed her body from the sunlight streaming from her window. "I have a job and friends in Paris, Christine." He offered his hand, which she accepted, and pulled her up. "It is going to be alright, ma chérie. You will like Paris. Not much will change." He caught her into an embrace.
"I hope, Pére."
They remained embraced silently for minutes, both unsure of what action to do next. Gustave was the first to break the silence.
"Christine, what exactly did you do to Oncle Louis and Erik?"
Christine pulled away from Gustave, her small face in a scowl. "Erik said I should behave like a proper lady. Because I was angry. And then I yelled back at him. I don't know what Erik and Oncle Louis said after that, Pére."
"You yelled at Erik?" Gustave's eyebrows arched upwards in surprise. My God. My daughter has quite a sturdy spine, to talk back to an intimidating figure.
"O-oui, Pére." She shuffled her feet slightly. "I… I guess Erik was right. I don't know why a girl cannot do things a guy can though."
"You should apologize to Erik, Christine."
"I know, I know, I should!" She stomped her feet in frustration. "But how, Pére? I am scared to talk to Erik, sometimes his eyes will become fire and he will start saying weird words with a mean voice. Pére, I don't want to…"
"He has?"
Tears were now falling from her eyes. "Oui, Pére. It first started when I read La Belle et la Bête. Pére, he was so angry then! Then it happened again with Raoul, and just yesterday when I said the mask of his was ugly."
"Christine! I told you never to say ugly in front of him, about him!"
"Oui, I know Pére. It was an axswedent…"
"An accident? Christine, please, please don't do it again. You have already seen his scars by now, no doubt. Don't remind him of the past."
"I… I'll try, Pére." She sniffed.
"Alright. Now, let's go apologize to Erik." He started to get up.
"Oh, but Pére! Wait!" She pulled on his arm, bringing him back down to her eye level. "Pére, but are Erik and Oncle Louis still arguing? Should we wait?"
"No. We stop their conflict now." Rising back up to his full height and Christine's hand in his, they walked back out into the hallway entrance. Seeing no one, Gustave and Christine went to the living room, where they found Louis gently stroking Erik's mangled face.
"You're back, huh." Louis said without glancing at Gustave, still lost in thought.
Gustave did not answer; he instead approached the two, finding Erik unconscious.
"He collapsed midway during our argument. He's was mumbling things until I stroked his face."
"What exactly were you two arguing about?"
Louis shrugged. "It was pointless really. I wanted him to leave Christine alone, and he insisted otherwise." He stopped moving his hand on Erik's cheek, causing Erik's face to crease in pain.
"No… Don't go… He's back… Erik's back…" His body involuntarily began to shiver and curl up.
"Pére? What's wrong with Erik?" She asked worriedly, leaning against her father's strong leg.
Gustave remained silent. What he wanted to say was not appropriate for her young ears.
Alarmed, Louis resumed stroking Erik's face. The face gradually resumed the relaxed pose as the mumblings ceased.
"Have you made your mind up yet, Gustave? What day do you plan on returning to Paris?"
"I suppose by next week. It will give us enough time to pack our bags."
"Alright then. Although I must warn you that you will not be able to resume your Súreté duties just yet when you return. I was forced to hire a replacement officer when you left, and he shows no signs of wanting to retire. There are no positions left in the office for you."
"Ah… Why did you not notify me of this beforehand? I would have informed you to request only a temporary officer to take my place."
Louis snorted. "What has happened to your brain? Has it been out in this sun for too long? Surely you know that a Súreté officer can only be off-duty for so long before he is discharged. And you, you have not been on duty for five years now! What on Earth are you thinking?"
"I must admit that I had not thought of that," he admitted quietly. "My God, am I to start all over?" He paused, lost in thought, for some time. "What about an Opera house? Do you know any available jobs from one?"
"Ask Antoinette," Louis snorted. "What do I look like, a ballet dancer? Why would you ask me, a member of the Súreté, on the goings of the Opéra-Comique?"
Gustave threw his hands up in frustration. "I don't know, Louis! You being the man currently behind the construction of the Palais Garnier, for starters."
"Hm… Good point," Louis replied thoughtfully, using his other hand to scratch his chin. "I'm afraid I know no more than the average Parisian citizen about the actual comings and goings of Opera though. I merely overlook the construction of the magnificent building. But hey," he added enthusiastically, "you could help with the construction of the Palais!"
"N-no thanks, I'd rather not."
"Opera? What's opera?" The little girl quietly mumbled, still clutching onto her father's leg.
Gustave looked down at his daughter and smiled warmly. "Why, ma chérie, its a show with actors and singers. It tells stories for an audience to watch and hear."
Hardly anyone noticed when Erik lifted his right eyelid weakly, taking in his new surroundings.
"Singing? Acting? I may want to do that…"
"Only in Paris, Christine. So, what do you think, do you want to go to Paris now?"
"Louis! You know she doesn't have to be onstage to do those activities!"
"I'm fully aware, Gustave. But I think that is what Christine wants, right?" He looked at Christine expectantly, and she eagerly nodded.
"I would love to act on stage! Maybe I can be a… A… Um…" Her smile faltered. "Pére? What are the main singers called?"
Gustave chuckled. "A prima donna, ma chérie."
"Right." She puffed her chest out proudly. "I want to be a preema donna one day!"
"Then… Maybe… You should… Start… With the… Basics…" Erik slowly rose from his position, his face showing pure confusion. "Where… What am I doing… Here…?" His sunken eyes widened upon seeing Louis peering down at him worriedly. He hastily got up and mumbled apologies to the older man.
"What baswicks, Erik? What is a baswick?"
"It's basic, ma chérie, its the first step to doing something great."
"Oh." She hesitated slightly, unclear on how to say her next words. "But pére… Who will… Tweach me to… Do the baswicks?"
"I will."
All eyes turned to Erik, now fully up and eyeing Christine seriously.
"I think, given the purity of her voice now, that she will sound quite heavenly given the proper training and technique." He glanced at Gustave, who was mouthing him some unknown action. "No, wait actually. I think the Angel of Music will be the one to teach her. He or she will be the one to make her voice soar." Gustave grinned, giving him a thumbs above Christine's head.
Feeling satisfied with his work, Erik shifted his attention to Louis, who was still giving him a worried glance. "Is something the matter, Oncle Louis?"
Louis got up. "Can you come with me for a moment or two? Alone?" Erik nervously looked at Gustave and Christine, who were still standing in their original positions, before rising up and following Louis's retreating figure into the hallway.
"Is… Is something the matter, Oncle Louis?" Erik received no response until they were locked inside Erik's own room.
"Oncle… What is the meaning of this?"
"Erik," he sternly demanded. "Do you remember what happened before waking up?"
"Now that you mention it Oncle Louis… No, I don't." His eyes began to widen in fear and realization. "Did I… Did I do something wrong? I can't… I can't remember a thing…!" He paused for a moment, recalling other blank periods to his memory. "Oncle Louis, I can't remember so many times…!"
"You can't? You don't recall ever fighting with me at all?"
"I… I fought with you?" There was a distinct hollowness to his voice. "What… What… What did I say…? No… Don't tell me…" Feeling himself lose balance, he grasped for the chair by his bed. Instead, he missed and caught Louis's uniform instead, and Erik sunk to his knees. "No… I…"
This is getting out of hand.
Erik was now desperately clutching onto the latter's uniform as if it were a lifeline. "Oncle Louis, please help me… I don't want this… I'll be good, I swear I will… Just don't cast me out…"
Very out of hand. "Why would I ever cast you out, Erik?" He asked gently.
Erik froze. He wasn't sure why he said that himself. Sniffing, he answered back, his voice still watery, "I… I think my mère… Might have…" His eyes glowed once again. He released his hands from the uniform and got up, mumbling. "That mère of mine…" Erik began pacing up and down along the length of his room with his arms behind his back, not unlike Louis in his own rages. "Some mère I had… Erik should like to see her perish from a fire…"
Louis was alarmed. Erik had reentered his trance-like rage again. It was painfully obvious, quite similar… Why, he's behaving like me whenever I get in my temper-fits. My god!
"But first, Erik must…" The pacing stopped momentarily as the skull-face scrunched up in deep thought. "Ah yes, Erik must find her address. No worry though, with Hannah's diary…"
He is mentioning Hannah by her first name only?
"And Erik would like to lay my own hands on that filth gypsy. Yes, the one who stripped Erik of his very dignity. It is time for Erik to get what Erik deserves…"
"Um… Erik?"
"Hmm?" Erik turned and looked straight at Louis's eyes. The emerald green met the blazing amber. "What, Officer Mifroid? What is it that you would like to discuss with Erik?"
"I-I… Uh…" Louis was at loss of what to say.
"Erik thought so," he sneered. Turning back and resuming his pace, he continued rambling about other things he had to do, which Louis ignored (as he was lost in his own thought).
What should I do to get him back to his senses? What did Gustave do whenever I was enraged that calmed me down?
… Erik himself.
"Erik, wouldn't you like to tell me what exactly are you rambling about?" He probed cautiously, in fear that his protegeé might do something violent.
He turned around and looked at Louis incredulously. "Why, Officer Mifroid, I'm surprised that you would give two damns about what I have to-" Just like earlier in the day, Erik suddenly toppled over, the flame in his eyes burned out.
There. He has fallen back into his old self again. Louis caught the falling form before it hit the ground, releasing a sigh at the fate of the boy. Why, why does he have his own separate, violent side to him? Why must he be like me whenever I developed my rages in my early years?
And why now does it reveal itself?
XXXX
For the next four days, Louis took time off to help Gustave and Erik pack away their belongings as the day drew nearer to their return to Paris.
In all truth, Louis was only doing so to keep a watchful eye on Erik.
Each day Erik's second side became more powerful, more dominating, and lasting longer. Each day, Louis would try, in every way, to get the old Erik back into his senses. And each day, although tired and gaining a couple extra grey hairs upon his head, Louis succeeded in doing so.
And each time Erik regained control of his body, he would always be scared out of his mind, for, as always, he simply could not recall what the other side of him has done.
"Oncle Louis, please make this stop somehow! I don't want to live like this anymore!" He sobbed one time after returning to his senses.
Louis, still panting after fighting to embrace Erik and bring him back, shook his head and held him closer. "Non, ma'boy… I cannot do that… I am powerless to your situation… Only you can make it stop…"
Naturally, Gustave and Christine notice the bizarre change in Erik's behaviour as well, and Gustave once inquired Erik on what was going on with the boy.
"It is… It is nothing," Louis attempted to reassure him. "I… I had these spells myself whenever I became overwhelmingly angry. It is not of your concern."
Gustave merely shrugged it off and resumed packing away his belongings.
Louis also noted that, for whatever reason, Erik never entered his rage because of Christine, possibly as a result of the previous incident. If anything, he became excessively protective and concerned for her wellbeing. And Christine seemed to become increasingly aggravated at his obvious sign for apology.
"Erik, please stop this," she confronted him one day. "I'm a big girl now, and I don't need help all the time."
"You're only five," he replied miserably. "And your trunk must surely be heavy…"
"It is not!" She threw more of her dresses into her trunk in frustration. "Erik, I know I am only five. But that does not mean I can do some things myself!"
"Not in this world where men dominate over every matter…"
Christine slammed the lid of her trunk and turned around, her blond curls swinging madly at her action. "And Erik, you're not helping at all! You're just being one of those men!" Erik stepped back unconsciously as she turned around and attempted to push her trunk out of her room.
The trunk refused to budge.
"On second thought, I do need your help. Erik?"
Chuckling nervously, Erik proceeded to carry her trunk out to the carriage. "You are a walking bundle of contradictions, Little Lotte."
She smiled back as sweetly and as innocently as possible. "I know."
XXXX
13 July 1869
"Is everyone completely certain that all of your belongings are indeed packed and ready to go?" Louis looked at his company back to Paris expectantly.
Erik nervously patted his violin case, which was on his lap along with his mask. "Oui, Oncle Louis. I don't think I'm missing anything right now." He looked across the carriage at Christine, who was holding onto her father's hand. "What about you, little Lotte? Have you left anything behind?"
Her smooth face wrinkled into a scowl. "For the last time Erik, I am sure. I think." She suddenly blushed violently. "On second thought, I might have forgotten…"
"Your scarf?" Erik pulled the rose-red scarf from behind his back.
"My scarf!" Christine reached out to grab her scarf, only for Erik to pull away and hold it high in the air, away from her grasp. "Aw, Erik, please!" She shook her father's hand abruptly. "Pérel please tell Erik to give it back!"
Gustave continued reading the Bible, frowning in concentration. "Don't bother me Christine, I am still on page twenty."
Giving up on her father, Christine turned to Louis. "Oncle Louis, won't you please tell Erik to give me my scarf back? Or get it yourself?"
Louis chuckled in amusement. This is going to turn out to be quite interesting. "Sorry, Christine. I cannot do that. You will have to convince Erik yourself."
Sighing in defeat, she turned back to Erik. "Please, Erik?"
He whispered in response, "Blessed is the girl, who uses her youth to walk along new paths. Blessed is she who follows her heart and doesn't ask other men. Because only then, when she is awake, will none of her dreams be denied…"
"Erik? What are you saying?"
In response, he smiled slightly. "Someone young and interested like you, doesn't need to ask a man to give her orders…"
"Oncle Louis, do you know what Erik is saying?"
Louis only smiled in response, like Erik.
Had Gustave looked up at this exact moment, he would have seen the uncanny resemblance between the two.
Instead, he flipped to the next page.
"Erik, I give up! I don't know what you are saying, but just give me my scarf back!"
Still smiling, Erik lowered his raised hand and offered her the scarf.
"Thanks," she snagged the scarf as quickly as a flyswatter before Erik could have the chance to take it back. Not like he was planning to do so anyway.
"On a much more serious note, little Lotte, what exactly do you want to be when you grow up?" His smile faded and his face took a more serious tone.
Still clutching the scarf close to her body, she answered back, "I'm not sure, Erik." She paused, deep in thought. "I want to do something though. Something that will change the world. Why do you ask, Erik?"
"No reason. No reason at all…"
He left Christine and Louis still wondering on his words as the carriage made its way to the heart of France.
XXXX
Outskirts of Paris, the same day.
Danior couldn't be happier when he heard the news. "That officer and the freak will be back by tomorrow? Thank you, Cornel." The scout bowed before walking away.
"Unchi, please reconsider this, we don't need him. We need to see new sights," Stan all but begged his uncle.
"Nonsense, we will be getting it back as soon as possible, and the money will be spinning in piles very soon," Danior scoffed in response.
"But Unchi-"
"Or would you rather me kidnap a pretty prostitute from off the street and personally maim her? I know this whore named Blanche who will do-"
"I would rather you do none of the above," Stan cut in quietly. "I would rather we leave for Italy first thing tomorrow morning and forget about the boy and all of Paris. Leave it all behind."
"Hmph. You still expect me to give up on my pursuit of the boy after all this time? You have some nerve, boy."
"Unchi," he growled. "I do. We are nearly dead because of your damn stubbornness to leave-"
Danior slapped his nephew across the cheek before the latter could finish. "Don't you dare talk to me like that! Unless you want to replace the freak yourself." He grinned maliciously. "How would you like to be where it was?"
Still rubbing his cheek, Stan shook his head frantically in denial.
Danior was satisfied. "Good. I wish for you to stop discussing this with me now. I expect no more of this talk. If you try to dissuade me again," he paused, making note of how his nephew flinched in the silence. "I will not hesitate to maim you and put you on display myself."
"And how do you plan on doing that?" Stan mustered up all of his courage to challenge his uncle.
"You know very well what I am capable of."
I am not a Christian, and as such I will not go into too much detail on Gustave's and Christine's religious life. Just know they are deeply religious people.
Who gets my Romanian name references? :o
Vor dem Schloß from Tanz der Vampire is used during Erik's monologue in the carriage.
I don't own any characters or songs, save for my original characters.
Thanks to MomoxDerpy for helping me proofread! Be sure to check out her fanfic!
Reviews and comments are highly appreciated.