A/N: Right, this is looking positive. Removed virus and now it looks like I'm functioning again. Anyway, thank you for all of the great reviews for the last couple of chapters. I hope you like this one.

RR

'Heart over mind,

Yes, I'm,

My fathers son,

I live my life,

Just like,

My fathers done'- Connor Reeves

Chapter 36- Fathers Son.

Erik pushed the palm of his hand hard against the door to the kitchen, sending the door flying open with a thud as it hit the counter behind it. He grabbed the handle and threw it shut behind him before skulking moodily through to the dining area. He walked to the window and stared out over his court yard, raising his hands to his temples in an attempt to rub away his throbbing headache. He had been there for nearly five minutes before he realised that he was not entirely alone in the room. He turned around slowly and found himself looking at the small shape of Joshua standing nervously in the doorway.

The sleeves of Joshua's woollen jumper were long and pulled down so that they almost covered his small hands. He looked timid, standing there on the border of the hallway and the dining room, as if he wasn't sure which way to go. Since when has he been afraid of me, Erik thought, as he stared at him?

'What?' He asked sharply, causing Joshua to blink.

Joshua moved from foot to foot. 'I was just going to ask if there was anything wrong,' he said quietly.

'There's nothing wrong,' Erik said with a shrug.

'Then why are you so angry with me?'

Erik's heart sank. 'I'm not angry with you,' he swallowed hard.

'You seem it,' Joshua's voice was quiet, apologetic even, and Erik felt his heart begin to ache.

'I'm sorry,' Erik felt himself murmur.

He didn't know where this man had come from. This man who cared for people, who cared for a woman and a child, who had even learnt to care for himself.

Joshua still stood there, making no move towards the hallway nor the dining room, and making no reference to the apology. Erik fought hard against the inner man who felt the need to run away. He pulled a chair out from under the table and sat down facing Joshua. With a gentle tilt and nod of his head he beckoned the child towards him.

Joshua stood for a moment, unmoving, as if wondering what he should do. Instead of being angry, as he would have been in the past, Erik felt dejected and held his hand out. Needing no more invitation, Joshua ran into the room and leapt into Erik's arms, almost knocking him backwards from the seat. Joshua affectionately wrapped his arms around Erik's neck and kissed his forehead, as any normal child would with their father. Erik squeezed him back and then sat him more comfortably on his knee.

Joshua grinned. 'Where have you been?'

'I was at the theatre today,' Erik replied, rubbing Joshua's back in a gesture his own father had once taught him. Many years ago. One of his few fond childhood memories.

'You never take me with you,' Joshua frowned.

'I take you to the shows,'

His frowned deepened. 'Why can't I go and see the rehearsal?'

'Because the cast need to concentrate,' Erik said. 'And you would just be a distraction.'

'Why would I?'

Erik shrugged. 'A roomful of young women and a cute young boy...' Erik sighed dramatically. 'They would be pulling your cheeks all over the place.'

Joshua giggled and Erik tried to, but could not, stop the smile from forming on his face.

'Papa,' he said. 'I really would like to go.'

'I know but... when you're a bit older.' Erik compromised.

'How old do I have to be?' Joshua stared defiantly.

'You can go in a few years,'

'What is the difference between going in a few years and going now?' Joshua said with ridiculously sound logic.

Erik groaned inwardly but kept his face as expressionless as he could. Of course Joshua was right, there was really no difference. Maybe there would be a difference in the average eight year olds case but certainly not in Joshua's. He had never been average at anything, excelling in whatever he does with barely any effort. It helped that over the years Erik's support for the youngster and gathered an incredible momentum. Generally, most of the things that Joshua wanted to do, Erik could teach him.

Erik enjoyed teaching him.

He had found over the years that having knowledge makes you powerful and, in some cases, rich and successful. However, since Joshua had been a few years old Erik had come to the stark realisation that if you don't pass that knowledge on then you begin to lose all that is associated with it... on Erik's death bed he wanted to leave someone in the world with the power to continue what he believed in. A lot of people could be forgiven, he was sure, for thinking that he was making Joshua a smaller version of himself. This was not the case... it was not even close.

Joshua possessed all of the intelligence, all that Erik was doing was teaching him how to use it and why was he teaching him how to use it? Mostly because he never wanted to Joshua to feel the same rejection and loneliness that he had. He wanted him to be carefree, able to love and be loved in return. He wanted to be sure that Joshua was informed enough about the world to make up his own mind what he wants to use his intelligence for.

'You can come to opening night,' Erik said, looking down at the boy sitting on his knee.

Joshua groaned and rolled his eyes, a gesture that, from anyone else, would have made Erik furious. Instead he tickled Joshua's sides until he giggled and flapped his arms around erratically, pinned him on the floor so that he didn't hurt himself and then tickled him some more.

'Ahh...' Joshua yelled, through gurgled giggles. 'No.. no...' he tried to roll away, 'Stopppp'

And Erik did. He sat back against the wall, almost as out of breath as his son, with his wrists resting on his knees so that his hands were hanging loosely.

'Opening night,' Erik said, smiling.

Joshua looked at him, thinking for a moment, before nodding. 'Opening night,' he agreed, and, as Erik pulled Joshua close so that he was tucked under his arm he felt, for that moment at least, that everything was just about right with the world.

Joshua wandered through the living room chewing a chunk of his apple slowly. He made a note to himself to thank the gardener for leaving him one out after he had brought all of the fruit in from the orchard. Joshua liked apples, particularly juicy red ones.

Today was one of those days where he had felt a wealth of emotions. He often had days like this. His father had been acting very strangely and Joshua had become increasingly more worried that he had done something to upset him. When he saw him come in from the garden earlier he decided to say something.

When he saw him more closely he very nearly changed his mind.

His father had been a good father, at least Joshua thought he had been, anyway. Joshua knew other boys from rich families and they got everything and anything they wanted but Joshua often wondered if they got all the things that they needed. He knew that if he wanted something from his father he could ask, he would never get into trouble for asking, but sometimes he would have to work for it.

Like finishing his work early or playing a tough piece of music really well.

Sometimes his father asked him to help James with the household business or to help cook in the kitchen. Despite being only young Joshua understood why his father did this and he loved him all the more for it. This is what made him wonder about his friends. He had seen them all with their families, he had seen them kick and scream when they did not get exactly what they wanted, but he had also seen their fathers barely look at them when they walked into the room. Joshua did not want to live like this, even now he knew that it would never be good enough for him. That's why he was so concerned by his father's mood recently.

He worried about his father, as he worried about his friends, sometimes.

This was the way Joshua's mind worked.

And often, he hated it.

Sometimes he would sit in his room and wish he was a normal boy, with a normal mind, who did normal things. It made his head hurt with the amount of thoughts he had and he wished he could just switch his brain off like doubting a candle and let everything be gone for the night. These feelings did not last for very long because when he thought about the things he had and the family he had he knew that he was lucky and just reminded himself of that fact.

He was lucky to be the son of such a brilliant man.

People always told him this like he didn't know, but he did. He knew.

He was proud of his father and he knew that his father was proud of him. This on its own would be enough to make Joshua happy but it wasn't all. Fiona looked after him, and the staff helped him and Nadir, his father's friend, brought him gifts from all over the country. Most of all, his father never treated him like a little child. Never, ever. As far as his father was concerned, Joshua was a young grown up and therefore, he treated him that way. He was expected to keep his room in a respectable condition, to be polite to everyone, without exception, and he was expected to study and practice his music every day.

He was bored with the violin, though. What Joshua really wanted to do was to play piano like his father could. It wasn't as if Joshua couldn't play piano it was just that he wasn't as good as his father and he couldn't write music. He wanted so much to write music.

When he walked into the entrance hall he noticed that the new maid was cleaning the sides of the banisters. 'Hello,' he said and saw her jump. Joshua was confused by this and wondered why she looked so nervous. He was nothing to be afraid of.

'Hello,' she said.

'I'm Joshua,' he said, stepping closer and holding his hand out for her. The maid looked at her hands and shook her head.

'They're dusty,' she said.

'It doesn't matter,'

I'm a child, he thought, what makes her think I don't like dirt? She took his hand and shook it gently then got back to her work. He frowned.

'How are you?' he asked, trying to put on his friendliest voice. It must have worked because she stopped working again and turned to face him.

'I'm very well,' she said but Joshua thought that she looked sad. 'How are you?' she asked, hesitantly.

'Good,' he said, grinning. 'Can you help me with something?' he asked and she lifted her eyebrows at him. She had a pretty face, she was a pretty lady. Kind eyes. Joshua liked her already.

'How can I help you?' She asked and Joshua noticed her wringing the dust cloth in her hands. He reached his hand out and held it there for a moment. She looked down at it and then looked back at him, confused.

'Come on!' he said shaking his hand around. She took his hand carefully in hers and he took flight, pulling her along with him. He ran up the stairs and she followed until they got to the music room.

'What do you need me to do?' she asked.

'I need you to be my audience!' he said smiling at her.

'I'm not a very good audience,' she said quietly.

'But you're a really good singer,' he said. 'I know because I heard my father tell Fiona that,'

'That was nice of him,' she said.

'So sing while I play then,' he said and she looked at him.

'I need to work,'

'This will be work,' Joshua said, with a mischievous smile.

'I don't know if I should...'

'Please...' he pleaded. 'My father won't mind... I promise.'

She nodded. 'What am I singing to?' she asked and Joshua knew he had just made a new friend.