A/N: Hello again everyone! I am very happy to be updating again *gasp* when I was actually supposed to! Anyway, thanks so much to those who reviewed! Second to last chapter!

Phantasma was a huge success. Every day that summer, crowds of people filled the park, mesmerized by the attractions that Erik had created. Nothing in Coney Island could match its beauty. Erik still had great plans for it, though. He intended to build a grand concert hall that could even rival the Met. And now, with the success that the park was seeing, funds to build such a concert hall were no longer a problem. Construction started, with the concert hall due to open with the rest of the park at the beginning of next season.

I had never dreamed that I would see Erik so happy. He worked long hours and came home exhausted, but he was getting to see people enjoy his creations. It made me smile to see the way his eyes lit up every time he saw me waiting for him when he came home, especially as my stomach began to show.

When the park closed late in the fall, Erik came home looking particularly exhausted. I kissed him in greeting and took his hand, placing it on my now bulging stomach without a word. He looked at me, somewhat confused, and opened his mouth to ask me what I was doing when the baby kicked. Erik froze, and when the baby kicked again a smile began to spread across his face, amazement lighting up his eyes. For a moment we stared at each other speechlessly.

"Oh, Christine…" he said softly. I grinned at him as he pulled me as close as my stomach would allow.

As the weather grew colder, Erik stayed home more, spending more time with me. He worked on the room that would be the baby's nursery. We painted it together, and while I sewed blankets and baby clothes, Erik was adding little details to the room everywhere he could. He painted little black music notes on the walls and even carved them into the wooden crib and rocking chair. And, of course, when he wasn't focused on preparing the baby's room, he was waiting on me hand and foot, despite my protests that being pregnant did not make me an invalid. From the time I got up in the morning to the time I went to bed at night, he would ask me at least every couple minutes if I needed anything, if I was comfortable, if I felt like lying down for a while.

"I'm fine," I always promised him, kissing him lightly to dispel the sincere concern in his eyes.

Finally, one afternoon in early winter, I accepted his offer and went to our room to lie down. I felt much more tired than usual, and my entire body was sore. Stabs of pain had been shooting through me for a couple hours, but I decided no to tell Erik until they started getting regular. There was nothing that could be done so early on in labor, and Erik would only worry himself.

Lying down felt good, but I couldn't get comfortable enough to fall asleep. The contractions were getting more severe and closer together. So instead I just lay there, rubbing my stomach and softly humming lullabies to the baby. I was just starting to consider calling Erik when I felt something wet running down my legs. I stopped humming; my hands froze on my stomach.

"Erik," I called, my voice unsure so that it sounded more like a question.

In a fraction of a second, Erik appeared in the doorway, looking worried. "Is something wrong? Are you ok?"

My uncertainty had quickly turned to excitement. "I'm fine," I said, smiling at him and then cringing through another contraction. "Only my water just broke. Could you please go get the doctor?"

Erik stood frozen in the doorway for a moment as what I had just said sunk in. Then, smiling, he planted a quick kiss on my forehead and ran out the door to get the doctor. While he was gone I quickly, carefully changed into my nightgown, glad that this at least made me feel a little more comfortable as the contractions continued to tear through me.

Before long Erik had returned with the doctor. As the doctor examined me, Erik passed around the room like some wild, caged animal. When the doctor announced that it would still be a while before we could deliver the baby, I though that Erik might go mad. The doctor continually sent him out of the room, giving him small tasks like getting some warm water and heating up some blankets for me, to keep him occupied. My contractions were getting longer and closer together, and at last when there was barely any time between them, the doctor said it was time to deliver the baby.

Erik came and sat at my side, and I squeezed his hand as tight as I could as the pain shot through me. Erik brushed away the hair that stuck to my forehead and spoke to me softly. "You can do this, Christine," he said. "I love you, mon ange. You can do this."

I pushed with all of my strength when the doctor told me to, crying out as pain flooded my senses. I felt Erik's cool hands on my face. "You're doing wonderfully, Christine," he said. Then smiling at me, almost laughing with excitement, he leaned closer to me and whispered, "Our child is coming, Christine."

I managed a small smile back and continued to push, just as the doctor told me to. Just when I was beginning to think that it would never end, I heard Erik, who now stood with the doctor at me feet, say, "That's it, Christine, just one more push!"

I cleared my mind of all the weariness I felt, all the pain, and with the last bit of strength in me, I gave one final push. And then I heard the most beautiful sound: my baby crying. Our baby.

"It's a boy!" Erik said as he held our son disbelievingly. "He's so beautiful, Christine…"

The doctor wrapped our son in a soft blanket and Erik handed him to me. He truly was the most beautiful child I had ever seen. "He looks like you," I told Erik as he sat down beside me. "He's perfect."

Erik smiled and entwined his fingers with mine. "What should we name him?"

I thought for a minute. "We could name him after you," I said.

Erik made a face at this suggestion. "Why would we name our perfect, beautiful son after me?" I rolled my eyes, making sure he saw. "We could name him after your father," he said.

"Gustave?" I said, testing the name. Gustave looked up at me, as if recognizing the name as his own. I smiled. "I like it. Gustave."

I watched happily as our son drifted off into a peaceful sleep in my arms. Then, unable to keep my own eyes open any longer, I fell to sleep with him in my arms, both of us nestled into Erik's embrace.

Only one chapter left! Thanks so much for sticking with the story, and please please please review! I also posted the first chapter of my new story, The Black Rose, and it would be so awesome if you could check that out too!