A/n: What a crazy few months! It's been so long since I've updated. School and work sucked a lot out of me. I lost sight of my goals for this story as well as inspiration and it's taken me awhile to find myself writing like I want to. I apologize for leaving you all waiting so long. I also feel that some changes need to happen for me to keep writing on a more consistent basis. I'm a reader myself and a chapter every couple months is absurd to me too. Suggestions are appreciated. Anywhoozles, I hope that at least some of you are still here. Enjoy the chapter.

Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.

Chapter 21

Mademoiselle Barbier came to see me after she had returned with the local physician. He was still attending to Erik when she knocked on my door. The woman looked much more at ease thanks to her time off, but there was yet a look of worry in her eyes. "I apologize for the way Monsieur Destler…" she had started only for me to cut her off.

"Mademoiselle Barbier, you have no need to apologize for that fickle man." It was true. She was not responsible for Monsieur Destler's actions. If he wanted to apologize, which I highly doubted, he would. That seemed below him, especially since he believed what I had done for his head of house was out of line. Fiddling with one of my sleeves, I sighed and plopped down onto the edge of my bed. "It was my own doing, if anyone's."

"That is not true." Mademoiselle Barbier argued as she walked over in front of me. I looked up at her, my expression one of disbelief. "You are a godsend, mademoiselle. I don't even know how to put into words how thankful I am for you and not just simply because you've helped me." The woman leaned down and grasped my hands in hers gently. "Never in my life have I met someone so devoted to such a broken family. Monsieur Thevenet told me of what you have done, for both the young master and his father, these past few days."

"I don't know how much longer Monsieur Destler will keep me around, Mademoiselle Barbier." I sighed, pulling my hands from hers to bury my face in them. "He was so furious with me and Gustave has done nothing but grow more and more attached to me in a way that makes his father believe he sees me as a mother figure. Gustave was the one to shatter that cup I am sure you saw in Monsieur Destler's room. He threw it to the ground and threatened to never love his father if I was sent away."

"A broken cup and such a threat is nothing, coming from a child." the head of house chimed in.

"The way Monsieur Destler reacted makes me think otherwise." I recalled the piteous look he had given me back at Rosenmier Manor before he left for here and the one earlier. "He loves his son, that much is clear, yet he refuses to have anything to do with him. When I step in, it just makes things worse. How much longer will he take Gustave's threats seriously? I fear that when he no longer does, I will have to go and the two of them would be worse off than before."

"You mustn't give up, Vivienne." Mademoiselle Barbier sat down next to me and rested an arm over my shoulders in a comforting gesture. "If there is anyone that could bring the two together, it is you. These things take time. I am sure you have made more progress than anyone has in the short time you have been with the Destlers. Don't lose heart." I looked up at the woman, feeling thankful that she was also part of the Destlers' lives. She gave a small smile and I could not help but give her one back myself. "The physician shouldn't be too much longer with Monsieur Destler. I should probably go wait to see if he will need anything."

"Thank you, Mademoiselle Bar-"

"You may call me Anthea."

"Thank you Anthea." I said, glad I had another person who believed that what I was doing here was good.

"Thank you too, Vivienne. Goodnight." She left the room and I rose from the edge of my bed. Gustave had not come to knock on my door to tell me goodnight yet. In the rush of things, I had almost forgotten that the child was still learning to take care of himself. He probably was in his room, still in his play clothes from earlier. It was best that I go and make sure he was alright.

I made my way to his room and knocked softly on the door. "Gustave?" I asked through the door, unsure if he was even in there. There was a shuffling of feet on the wood floor inside and I smiled sadly, knowing well that he was in his room. "Gustave, may I come in?" I heard a soft 'yes' and pushed the door open. Gustave was nowhere in sight, but I noticed the child-shaped lump beneath the covers on his bed. I walked over and sat down next to it.

"Gustave, where are you?" I questioned playfully, gazing down at the lump next to me. "I thought I heard you in here, but maybe it was a ghost. I wonder where he could have gotten off to."

"Don't be stupid. I'm right here." Gustave snapped quietly at me. Perhaps he was more upset than I had thought.

"Then why don't you come out from beneath your covers so I can talk to you?" I suggested. "I do not want to talk to a ghost." It took him a minute or so, but he eventually pulled back the covers and peered up at me. His eyes were red and puffy, with dried trails of tears on his cheeks. "Oh dear… Gustave, what is the matter?"

"I thought papa would send you away." he said, sniffling whilst running the back of his hand over his nose. "You don't have to leave, do you? Is that why you're here?"

"I am not going anywhere." I answered. "Come here." I said, reaching out a hand for him to take. He took it and I pulled him closer into my arms. He leaned his head against my arm and I ran a hand through his hair. "It is alright. I won't be leaving as long as I need to be here for you. You mean a lot to me, Gustave. You also mean a lot to your father. He wouldn't send me away because he knows you need to be taken care of."

"It sounded like he really would send you away, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." Gustave whispered, one of his hands balling up in the skirt of my dress. Looking up at me with more tears in his eyes, he continued. "He's terrible for wanting to send you away. If you go, I am going with you."

"You can't do that Gustave. You can't do that to your father." The child was trembling against me and I wished he could understand like I did. "Despite what you think, he loves you so much Gustave. I have told you that before. He-" I paused, wondering if what I planned to say next was the best thing to say. Maybe Gustave could understand. He was a bright child. I continued, praying that he would understand. "He thinks that you love me more than him, that you would leave with me if you could. That hurts him deeply, Gustave. More than you may be able to understand."

"He really thinks that?" Gustave asked, his sniffling slowing some.

"I believe he does. It is sort of how you are afraid that I would leave." I said, hoping that connection would help the child to understand. The clock down the hall chimed 9 o'clock. It was Gustave's bedtime. With him struggling to sleep the last couple of nights, it was probably a good idea to get him to go to sleep. "Let's get you ready for bed, alright?"

Gustave nodded silently. He had not said anything as to what I had said, but I could tell he was thinking about it. I'm also sure he was exhausted from the day's events. I retrieved his nightclothes and was surprised when he pulled them from my hands and began to undress himself and put them on. I stood back and watched, finding myself so proud of this precious ten year old. Before he could crawl back into bed, I pulled him into a tight hug. "Goodnight, Gustave. I will see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." he said, a yawn punctuating his sentence. I left and he crawled into bed, only shutting the door once he was tucked under his covers. I started in the direction of my room only to pause upon hearing a loud thud come from around the corner of the hallway where the vestibule was. It was out of place and I could tell it wasn't some household object that had fallen off a stand or something of the like. I decided to investigate as most of the household's employees were done for the day or finishing up in the kitchen. As I walked around the corner, I nearly gasped at the sight of Monsieur Destler attempting to pull himself off the floor by a bureau. "Monsieur Destler, what do you think you are doing?"

"It is none of your business." he hissed, whilst he struggled to get up from the ground. He hadn't even turned to look at me upon me making my presence known.

"It is my business if I have to tell your son that you went and got yourself injured even more." I fired back. The man slid back down after he had managed to pull himself just a little. He grumbled something under his breath in what I was sure was annoyance. It was apparent that he was unable to get himself off the ground. His unconsciousness had rendered him weak and he needed to regain his strength with rest and gradual exercise. "Let me help you up, Monsieur Destler."

"Absolutely not, mademoiselle."

"Fine." I said, starting for the kitchens. "I will go fetch Mademoiselle Barbier and she can help you." I had taken but a step when my employer called out for me to stop. Turning around, I wondered why he didn't want me to fetch his head of house to help him back to his room. He rolled over so that he was sitting on the floor with his back up against the bureau. His chest rose up and down heavily with the exertion he had just spent in walking from his room and the attempts to rise after he had fallen. "What do you want me to do, Monsieur Destler? You refused my help as well as your staff's. I don't feel like leaving you to help yourself is in your health's best interest or your son's."

"Why do you care?" he questioned, his mismatched eyes gazing up at me. "It is not in your job description to help me. It's not one of the rules and is therefore unnecessary."

"I care because I know your son loves you very much, Monsieur Destler." I snapped at him. "If anything were to happen to you, he would be lost in grief. That is not something I would wish upon any child. I volunteered at a children's home in Paris before I came here. One parent is far better than none at all. Although, with how you distance yourself from him, it is like he has no parents."

"He has you, doesn't he?" Erik asked, the venom in his voice replaced with a solemn melancholy. It was similar to how he had spoken to me before he left the manor. "How could he possibly love me after all that I have put him through? Ten years of ignoring my own son doesn't make me much of a father, does it?"

This sudden openness shocked me speechless as I took it all in. Was this actually happening? Monsieur Destler had just shown me more about himself in those few sentences than he had in all the time I had been around him. "It is never too late to mend that which is still mendable, Monsieur Destler. Give him a chance. If you keep your distance, you very may well lose him." I kneeled down on the floor next to him. "You won't know how he feels about you until you see it with your own eyes."

Monsieur Destler sat there next to me, silent for a few moments before he spoke again. "Where do I even begin?" he asked, looking at me with hopelessness in his eyes. I smiled softly and rose to my feet.

"You begin with taking care of yourself and getting back to your bed to rest." I answered, reaching a hand down to my employer. "And I will bring him to visit with you every day until you are better. That is a good start to patching your relationship with Gustave."

A/n: Finally. Erik is getting it together. A little bit at a time. Like Nadir said back in Chapter 7. Just like how I am writing this story. Not that I want to write a little bit at s time. Haha. I feel good about where the story is at right now and I am going to try to at least update every two weeks. Maybe sooner if I am able. Until next time, my lovelies.