Like Father, Like Son

by nerdywriter36

Christine is dead and the Phantom is alone once more. But this time...not completely. He now has Gustave, their child, with him. After learning the truth, he is determined to stay with his true father. Though talented in many areas, will fatherhood be the one skill Erik cannot master? A continuation of Love Never Dies with heavy Kay influence.

35. Accidental Unveiling (Part II)

tw: mention/reference to self-harm

if you would like to avoid this section of the chapter, but would still like to read the rest of the content, look for the asterisks; they will mark the beginning and the end of this chunk of the chapter

if you or someone you love is struggling with mental health/thoughts of self-harm/suicide, please reach out to someone that you trust or a local help line in your area. you are loved and you are worth it.

---

JANUARY 1923

GUSTAVE

Papa had told me when I called that morning that he did not want anyone visiting him that day. He may have been a good liar, but when it came to me, he was no actor. I had heard in his voice alone that he was definitely not as alright as he was claiming to be, and besides, he should have known better than to think I would have believed him.

When I knocked on his front door I received no answer besides the sound of him yelling at me from the inside: "Gustave, I told you on the phone that I wasn't feeling up to having visitors today!"

I tried to stifle a laugh at how foolish he was being as I tried my hand at the doorknob. "You had to have known I was going to come to see you no matter what you said," I replied. When the door proved to be locked, I stepped off the porch and lifted the rock in the garden where Papa hid the spare key, having left my own on at home, and unlocked the door.

Once I was inside, I was greeted with a sight I don't think I will ever forget. Papa was a mess, to say the least; he was sprawled out on the couch with a whiskey glass in hand, his mask was on the floor and his hairpiece sat crooked on his head.

He did not even look at me as he pleaded, "Please leave me alone."

"No, Papa. I'm sorry, but I'm not going to leave you alone, especially not in this state," I said with a sigh.

"I'm fine. Just go." He still wouldn't look at me.

"You're not fine, Papa. You're drinking and you look like a mess," I replied as I took the decanter from the coffee table and the glass out of his hand. I hadn't seen him open it since I told him the truth about what had happened while I was gone during the war, so I certainly never thought he would be one to use it in excess, but there was a first time for everything. "Dare I say you're the opposite of fine."

"Gustave, don't get smart with me. I'm in no mood." His tone was erratic, I noticed. He couldn't keep his voice level; he was undoubtedly at least somewhat drunk.

"I'm not being smart, I'm being honest." I walked into his line of vision and held the almost empty decanter out towards him. "How much of this have you drunk?" I demanded.

He waved me off and tried to get up to leave. I was steadily growing angrier as the minutes passed; I couldn't handle seeing him the same way I saw…

Lost in my own memories, I slammed the decanter on the table; I was lucky it didn't shatter. "Papa, answer me. How much?!"

Papa jumped at the sound and finally looked me in the eyes as he spoke: "I wasn't keeping count, Gustave. Not enough, evidently, because I can still remember what happened last night."

"Don't go down that road, Papa. We both know that it won't end well." I was trying to be level-headed but he was angering me with how little he seemed to care.

"I don't see how it could get worse at the moment. Your Uncle is one of the only people in my life who actually gave a damn about me when I was alone and now I have angered him so much I might never get the chance to admit that I was wrong," he said as he raised his hands in surrender before he turned to try and walk away. "Why shouldn't I just throw an abundance of alcohol into the mix?"

"Because it's not going to fix anything!" I felt my voice crack as I spoke those words, but they needed to be said. I could not bear witness to him drowning his sorrows in a bottle.

He must have heard how troubled I was by everything, as he glanced over his shoulder at me, though we had somehow returned to the part where he didn't look me in the eyes. "I'm going to give you that only because of the pounding in my head. Talking isn't making it any better," he sighed.

"Papa, did you sleep last night?" I asked him.

He gestured to himself and it felt like he was mocking the question itself. "Look at me and draw a conclusion."

"Papa, I'm not going to deal with you if you're going to act like this. Now if you could be serious for a moment and look me in the eyes as you speak, I'd appreciate it."

"Gustave, I told you I didn't want to see anyone and you came anyway," he pointed out. "You really expect me to cooperate and carry out a conversation?"

"I'd like to think I can expect that from my father," I snapped back. He had to realize how similar we truly were; he was not going to simply be rid of me because he wanted to be difficult.

He gave me an overly-exaggerated sigh and turned back around to face me. "There. Now you can see just how much of a mess I am. What else do you want?"

I cautiously took a step towards him, wanting to be as gentle as possible with him. "I want to know that you are okay, but I believe that question can be answered without having to speak. Now we need to get you dressed into something that doesn't make it look like you just got dragged through the street," I explained as I gestured upstairs.

"Why? It's not like I'm going anywhere or seeing anyone besides you."

I remembered that I had yet to fill in my lie and thought quickly: "Lara wants to see you. She's at home because Christine had a hard time sleeping through the night. Now come on, or do I need to help you up the stairs?"

"I should be able to get up there myself, but that doesn't mean I'm going to. I'm in no state to see your wife or my granddaughter."

"It doesn't matter. We've both seen you in worse situations and Christine is too young to remember it." I knew that he was worried about having Christine see him in such a state so I crafted my cover-up carefully. "Lara wants to see you; she is worried about you. It took me promising to come to get you in order for her to even agree to stay home and try to get some sleep with Christine."

"Gustave, really, I...I just want to be by myself."

"Do you really want Lara to come here and see this? Because if I go back alone, she'll come here," I shot back with an attempted guilt trip that he had used a thousand times before.

"No, I don't want her to see me like this. I didn't want you to see this, never mind her."

"Good. Now get changed."

I had thought that my plan was working until he continued to try and get me to leave: "Gustave, can I not just phone Lara and talk to her? I'm a mess, my head is absolutely pounding, I'm mad at myself and upset about what happened last night. I don't want to make her have to put up with that."

"Papa, I'm not giving you the option and you know Lara is more terrifying than both of us combined. I don't think you want to be on the receiving end of whatever happens if you don't come with me."

"I don't, no, but that doesn't mean I want to leave the house." His tone was getting softer and I thought for a moment that I might have actually gotten to him.

I had been saving this line until it was absolutely necessary and it seems that it was. "It's not about what you want to do. It's about what you're going to do."

"I don't want to even discuss what happened last night with anyone, Gustave. Not even Lara."

"You don't have to discuss what happened. Regardless of whether or not you do, I think it would be helpful to get out of the house. Just come and show Lara that you're alright and maybe have a cup of tea."

"Fine. I'll go change." Victory at last; I had finally broken him. He went upstairs and the second I heard him reach the second floor, I raced over to the telephone and had the operator connect me to Lara.

"We'll be coming home soon," I blurted out as soon as I heard her answer. "Are they there?"

"Yes, they're here. Nadir just stepped into the kitchen to make tea for the three of us." I breathed a sigh of relief hearing that; Uncle always had a hard time saying no to the two of us and I knew that we had a better chance of getting him there if I had Lara call him over, and I turned out to be correct.

"Put the kettle on for more," I said.

"I will, don't worry," she affirmed. "Is he alright?"

"Not great, but he's coming. It took more convincing than I thought it would." I tried my best to downplay the intensity of the current situation though I knew that she knew better than to believe that.

The sigh that I heard from her told me that I was right yet again. "Well, at least he's coming. I'll let you go now. I'll see you soon."

"Of course. I hope this works the way we want." I was just beginning to feel a twinge of doubt in my plan. What if they didn't make up? What if they still hated each other after everything we'd done? I tried to push that out of my mind and focus on the fact that I would not know the results until I tested it for myself.

"Yes, let's hope it does. Now go before your father catches you on the phone and asks questions."

"Best of luck with Uncle."

"You're going to need more help with your father than I will with Nadir. We both know that," Lara said as she tried to let out a small laugh to lighten the mood. She was right, of course; of the two men we were dealing with, I knew that I would need significantly more luck with my situation than she would need with hers.

"You're probably right. I think he's coming down now. Goodbye, dear."

"Goodbye, my love. Take care," was the last thing I heard her say before I hung up the phone.

It was just in time too; Papa was just reaching the bottom of the stairs when I placed the receiver. "Why were you on the phone?" he asked.

"Lara called to get a hold of me." I fabricated the lie with much more ease that time around. "She couldn't keep sleeping anymore, so she was calling to ask if I was coming home soon."

He seemed to believe me as he quickly spun on his heels towards the door, which was something I had never seen him do; seeing my father drunk was certainly strange. "Alright then, let's get going. Let's not keep her waiting."

However, I noticed right when he turned that his shirtsleeves were unbuttoned; that wasn't like him. I thought perhaps I could blame it on the fact that the decanter contained just under half of its original contents, but I then saw that he was pulling his sleeves down as well. Something was wrong and he was trying to hide it.

"Before we do that, Papa, could I see your hands please?"

"Why would you need to see my hands?" he asked, probably not even realizing that, as he said that, he pulled his sleeves down even harder.

"Because I'd like to know why you're pulling at your sleeves," I said simply.

He released his hold on his sleeves, but he made sure not to move his fingers, staying perfectly still, almost out of fear that they would move again if he moved even an inch. "I'm not pulling at my sleeves."

"Yes, you are. Now let me see your hands."

"Gustave, no. There's no reason for that." He was getting defensive again, I noticed.

"Fine. If you won't show me, tell me," I retorted, proving that I could be just as stubborn as him. "Why are you pulling at your sleeves? I could go back and forth like this all day if we have to." He didn't say anything to try and prove me wrong, so I made an attempt and walked towards him only for him to immediately take just as many steps back.

"Gustave, this won't do any good," he insisted. His hands had resumed their death grip on his sleeves, which did not help his case.

"Neither will you not telling me what's going on. Papa, please."

"I don't think this is a good idea." He kept staring at the floor the entire time, his voice quiet.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest by then and it took everything in me to keep my voice level. "Why not? What has happened that you can't fulfill such a simple request?"

"Because I don't want you to look at me the way I know you will." He was being cryptic again, and by that point, I truly did not have the patience to beat around the bush; my mind was too busy flooding with possibilities of what could have happened.

"Papa, what happened? If you aren't going to tell me, let me see."

"Gustave, please."

"Why is it such a problem? You're starting to scare me, Papa," I admitted, unable to hide that fact anymore.

He let out a deep sigh and finally looked at my face again. "Alright, fine. But please promise me that you won't get upset."

"Okay, I promise, it's alright." I was willing to say anything at that moment just for the sake of getting an answer.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when he lifted his sleeves and I immediately realized why he didn't have the cuffs buttoned. There were jagged zig-zagged lines that cut deep into his skin, hastily covered with strips of gauze. Uncle Nadir had told me that that was something that Papa had done before, but I never thought he would ever go back to it.

"Oh, Papa. What...what happened?" I asked. I spoke softly because I was barely able to keep myself together and if I had raised my voice he would have known that.

"I hoped that you would never see me like this," he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek as he went back to looking at the floor.

I wasn't sure what to ask, so I went with the safest but also the stupidest question that came to mind: "I just...are you okay?"

"I don't know how to answer that." I didn't know what more I could have expected him to say.

After a moment of hesitation, I had a much more intelligent question to ask him: "Have you cleaned them recently?"

"This morning. I just haphazardly bandaged them last night."

"I'm going to go get the first aid kit. You sit on the couch, I'll be back in a moment," I told him. It was taking everything in me not to fall apart right there in front of him.

I could barely hear him as he insisted, "Gustave, please. I'm fine."

"I said what I said, now don't argue." The last thing I needed from him was deliberation on whether he was going to do what I asked or not. "I will be back in a moment."

I practically ran upstairs the moment I saw him seated on the couch, knowing that, as long as he hadn't moved it, the first aid kit would still be in the bathroom. I went to the cupboard under the sink and found the little white box, then made sure it was still properly stocked with what I needed. I noticed little drops of brown on the packaging of the bandages and that the medical tape had been given a very rough cut. The events of last night became all too real in my mind and I looked up in the mirror, only to see my father wrapping his arms with tears in his eyes instead of my own reflection. I felt myself start to hyperventilate as the necessity for my plan to work became all too real.

I quickly controlled my breathing and went back downstairs with the medical supplies in hand, finding Papa still sitting on the couch with his head hung in shame. I sat down next to him and set the first aid kit on the coffee table.

"Alright, roll up your sleeves," I gently requested.

Without a word, he complied and rolled his sleeves all the way up to his elbows, which allowed me to see the full extent of what had happened; his self-inflicted damage went further up his arms than I had anticipated. I carefully unwrapped the old bandages and set them on the table to be thrown out later, knowing that the cuts needed to be cleaned. I took the rubbing alcohol and a small cotton swab and dabbed at them ever so gently. In the especially deep areas, I tried to be careful but it clearly still stung; I saw him tense up and heard him breathe in sharply a few times.

After a while of me murmuring apologies whenever that happened, Papa finally spoke again: "You shouldn't be the one apologizing."

I was too focused on his arms to look up at him as I responded: "Well, I can't believe I let you go home. I should have made you stay or come with you."

"Please don't blame yourself for this. It wasn't your fault."

"But if I was here, I might have been able to help you." Vocalizing that thought made it hit even harder than I had been expecting. A seed of regret and shame sprouted in the pit of my stomach at the thought that by me letting him go home alone, I had allowed him to harm himself.

"I was deep in my own head last night, I wouldn't have listened to you. This...this is my own fault because I caused that senseless fight and now I'm paying for it."

"I would have been able to physically stop you is what I meant," I explained as I finished wrapping one of his arms and began with the next one.

"I think you'd be surprised at the strength I seem to possess when I'm this depressed and drunk at the same time. It's not a pretty sight." I could not tell if he was trying to lighten the overall mood with that comment, but it did not work.

"And I think you'd be surprised at my strength when it comes to protecting people I love," I said as I finally looked right at his face. Tears were welling up in his eyes and I simply did not know what else to say to him.

We stayed silent for the remainder of the time I spent wrapping his arms. Neither of us really knew what to say next and it hung heavily over us like a thick fog, though as a result of that, it made the sound of his voice so much louder when he whispered, "I am so sorry."

"Save your apologies. There is nothing you have to apologize to me for," I tried to affirm him.

"For something as drastic and stupid as this? I beg to differ."

"Papa, if I'm not allowed to apologize, neither are you." I was finally done wrapping his arms and he was able to pull his sleeves back down over the proper bandaging.

"I feel I have to. I have you to watch over, and now I have my granddaughter who...who is my world, and I still did this. I'm sorry I even tried, I never wanted to do this to you." His voice was cracking as he spoke. I looked up from packing up the kit and saw that the tears had finally fallen from his eyes.

"As much as I don't want you to do this at all, I think I needed to see this, in a way. You don't need to hide from me."

"But this is a part of me I never wanted you to see." He looked down at his arms at that and I continued to see tears drop from his face and onto his sleeves. "Hearing about it is enough. No father should ever do this to his son."

"You're not doing this to me. You are doing this to yourself, which, in turn, breaks my heart," I said as I took his hands in mine and held them for reassurance.

"And that's what I'm sorry for. I never want to be responsible for putting such a heartbroken expression on your face, but now I am and I despise myself for that." His voice cracked again as he spoke about himself.

"I don't want to hear any more words of hate from you." I hadn't meant for there to be a snap in my voice, but it happened before I could stop it. "You have always been so strong for me even though I know you had no idea what you were doing. I've taken your strength for granted nearly my entire life. It's okay to be weak; it makes you just as human as the rest of us."

"But I wanted to be so much more for you." He still wouldn't look at my face; he kept his eyes glued to our hands.

"You've given me everything I ever could have asked for. It's alright for you to take the love and ask for the help that you deserve."

He finally looked up at me as I said that. I was not sure what caused him to look up with those words specifically but I was not about to question it. "You remind me more and more of your mother every day. It's remarkable."

"And I hope that fact helps you to see that I love you for who you are, and that's all I could want. Everything I've needed, you've given me, and any dream or flight of fancy that I had, you worked to make come true. You were, and still are, my hero. The man I aspire to be like. That said, to feel a bit broken and let me see that isn't wrong. You can't do everything for others and take nothing in return; there needs to be a balance there." At some point in my speech, I had started crying too. At that point in my life, I finally completely understood his desire to appear unbreakable to me; I wanted nothing less for Christine, but it would be unfair to her and myself to put that type of mantle on. I just needed him to understand that as well.

"What could I have ever done to deserve you, my boy? You make everything worthwhile. I would give anything to be able to be strong for you all the time; I would, I swear," he said softly as he ran his fingers through my hair just like he used to when I was a child.

"And I believe you with everything in me, Papa. You are the strongest man I know and I know you're going to keep that up as long as you possibly can. But just know that you shouldn't be afraid to show the fact that you're hurting. I can't help you if you don't."

"I promise you, I will try," he said as he wiped a tear from my cheek.

I did the same as I replied, "That's all I want, Papa. I don't ask you to be perfect, I just want you to do the best you can."

"I will. I'll do my best."

We sat there hugging on the couch for about five minutes and it felt like it had been years in the making; there was so much being said between us without either of us having to say a word.

When we let go of one another I made sure he was looking in my eyes before I spoke: "I love you, Papa. That's why seeing you like this upsets me. I never want to see you hurting."

"Hopefully you never will again," he replied. It made me breathe slightly easier than I had been before; the affirmation that he was going to try and that neither of us would have to go through what we had just been through again.

"I hope I don't either," I said as I stood up from the couch. "Now, let's go see Lara and Christine. I refuse to let you be by yourself."

At long last, there were no protests to be made and I left the house with my father in tow.

---

The drive from my father's house to my own was hardly a long one, but when it was made in heavy, tense silence, it felt like it took hours. Though I made sure to always watch the road as I drove, I was paying keen attention to Papa the entire time. He hadn't said a word since we had left the house; he had simply climbed into the passenger's seat of my car, turned to look out the window, and had yet to change positions.

My eyes were drawn to his newly bandaged wrists every time I looked at him; I could just barely see the edges of them poking out from under the cuffs of his coat, especially now that he had stopped pulling on his sleeves. It still broke my heart that he had sunk so low so quickly, and I was trying not to blame myself for letting him leave my sight. I knew that doing that would only make him feel worse, which was the last thing I wanted to do. That said, knowing that it had even happened was the only thing occupying my mind and I had questions that I didn't know if I should ask but wanted answers to nonetheless and-

"If you want to say something, just say it," my father said, his sudden decision to speak interrupting my train of thought and making me glance over at him; he had turned his head to look out the windshield, but the masked side of his face was all I could see, so I had no grasp on his emotional state.

"What do you mean?" I asked, genuinely confused by his statement.

"I can practically feel you burning holes in me with your staring, so say what you want, ask your questions," he replied, only to sigh when I hesitated to speak. "I don't mean to be short with you, Gustave; I'm just tired, in pain, and ashamed of myself. I do genuinely want to help you understand this, so pardon my tone."

I smiled slightly and reached over to set one hand on his knee. "I know you don't mean it, it's okay. I'm just worried about you, hence all the staring, but I suppose the only thing I would consider asking is...has this happened before?"

He dropped his head, I noticed, his hand coming to rest over mine. That was how we stayed for a moment - silent, with his thumb brushing over his knuckles,- before he finally found his voice again: "The ideation really started when I was about seventeen. I had been in Russia for just under a year; the grief over losing my only father figure and my first admirer was still incredibly heavy, and other...traumas from when I was a boy still stung as if they were fresh. I didn't take any rash action then, but I...experimented with different ways to deal with the pain I was feeling.

"Things only got worse when I moved to Persia. There, plagued by constant abuse, a newfound opium addiction, and at the beck and call of the shah as his executioner, I sunk into a world of self-loathing and darkness like I never had before. And after Reza died…"

He trailed off then and I was quick to give his hand a gentle squeeze. We had pulled into my driveway by that point, but I wasn't about to cut him off in the midst of such an important conversation.

"It's alright, Papa. Just take your time," I said softly, trying to support him as best I could.

He nodded, took a deep breath, and continued: "After Reza died, I didn't know what to do. I hated myself for what I'd done, so I came home from the palace, locked myself in my bedroom, and tried to slit my wrists. It...it wasn't about using pain to distract from what my life was anymore; it was about putting an end to the life that I was so tired of living, even though I was only twenty-one.

"When I came to, I was only disappointed for a moment that I hadn't succeeded before I saw Nadir and he was in tears and he...he begged me not to take away the only family he had left."

As soon as I heard his voice break, I leaned over to pull him into my arms, hoping that that memory alone would make the prospective apology to Uncle Nadir even easier. "It's just because he loves you, Papa. You can't hold it against yourself, just as you can't do that with this instance either," I said, gently rubbing his back.

"I've had to answer to him once for it, and now this is the second time I've done it with you in my life, which is why I'm so sorry," he replied as he held onto me tightly.

I couldn't help but frown when I heard what he'd said. "The second time?" I breathed, trying to consider when I had let that slip under my nose.

"We...we were still on the boat back from America. The nightmares wouldn't stop and I was missing your mother."

"That night when you locked yourself in the privy and wouldn't open the door or tell me why when I noticed," I whispered as the realization finally dawned on me and I held him even tighter than before.

"It has never happened again until now and it won't happen again," Papa said quietly, leaning back from our embrace a moment later and slipping his mask off to dry the tears that had fallen onto his cheeks. "I promise."

"I know, Papa, and I know you'll keep that promise. Now, let's go inside to see Lara and Christine. That ought to cheer you up at least a bit."

I pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before he covered it with his mask again and the two of us made our way to my front door, which was quickly opened by my wife soon after I had knocked.

"Hello, you two. It's good to see you, Erik. How are you? I've been worried, so I'm glad you're here," Lara said, propping Christine on her hip even as she squirmed after setting her sights on her grandfather.

"I'm alright, dear," Papa replied as he kissed her forehead, then turned to Christine. "Hello, angel."

"Nonno, Nonno," my daughter giggled as she reached towards him.

He smiled slightly as he picked her up, situating his arms just right to avoid putting too much pressure on them - though I knew it must have still hurt him to a degree given how far up his arms he had made the cuts,- and smoothed down her hair. "I hear you made things a bit hard for your maman last night."

"She certainly did. She hardly slept," Lara sighed as she glanced at me, and although I could see her eagerness to put our plan in action, I could tell she was quite tired. Her dedication amazed me. "She just cried quite a bit and had to have me or Gustave hold her all night. It almost makes me think that she was a bit worried about her grandfather too."

I smiled at my wife's comment, knowing she was playing it up for Papa's sake. "I don't think she fully understood what happened, but I believe the yelling did scare her a bit," I said.

"Well, I'm sorry, my angel. I didn't mean to frighten you with all that nonsense yesterday," Papa said as he kissed Christine. "You can forgive Nonno for being silly, can't you?"

Both Lara and I laughed quietly as we watched our baby giggle and pat his cheek, but we then shared a glance and nodded slightly, ready to put our plan into action - and praying that it would actually work.

"If you're in the mood for apologies, come into the sitting room," my wife said as she started to walk towards the room in question.

Papa quickly started to follow, though not without a quiet sigh, I noticed. "Lara, I really am sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean for it to-" he began, only to stop dead in his tracks in the middle of the sitting room when he saw what we wanted him to see; Adele across the room and Uncle Nadir sitting on the sofa, looking just as baffled as his friend.

Papa's jaw practically hit the floor at that point, and he and my uncle sat in stunned silence before Christine finally snapped him out of it as she patted his cheek. "Nonno?" she asked, clearly confused by her grandfather's shift in moods.

Using the girl's desire for attention to his advantage, Papa turned away from Uncle Nadir and focused on Christine, bouncing her in his arms. Both Lara and I caught onto what he was doing, so my wife quickly took Christine from him, much to my father's dismay and confusion.

"If neither of you is going to say anything, we're going to be here for a while," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. I was determined to ensure that those two left my home as friends and brothers and no less.

It was still silent for a while before Papa finally worked up the nerve to turn back to his friend. "Nadir, I...I'm not exactly sure what to say," he quietly admitted.

"You being speechless is a rare thing indeed," Uncle Nadir replied, managing a weak smile at the comment. As I looked at him, seeing him for the first time that day, I could tell that the fight had torn him apart just as it had Papa; his eyes were puffy and bloodshot, his hands the slightest bit shaky. He was exhausted and broken down by everything that had happened, which only told me that things needed to be fixed quickly.

"Hopefully that tells you something as to how I'm feeling about this entire ordeal," Papa replied.

Uncle Nadir nodded. "I'll be honest, I don't know where to start either, but I have a rough idea of where we need to end up."

"Yes, I think I do as well."

I was watching them both closely, but especially Papa; he had already shuffled a bit closer to Uncle Nadir and I knew that he wanted nothing more than to hug his friend tightly to make sure he wouldn't disappear.

"I think we could start with the fact that I don't think either of us knows what happened to us last night," Nadir said.

"No, I...I don't know what that was. That was a side of us that I haven't seen in years," Papa admitted.

"A part of us that I had long thought buried."

Papa managed to crack a weak smile. "You would think that we'd learn, after all this time, that nothing truly stays buried."

"Yes, perhaps we'll manage to figure that out eventually."

"But...but I think one thing we've learned rather unintentionally through this is that we come as a pair. No matter how hard we try we can't seem to be rid of each other," Papa said, finally making and maintaining eye contact with my uncle. I honestly hadn't expected him to say so much, but I had no plans to stop him as he continued: "I know that I said a lot of things last night, but one thing, in particular, was wildly untrue: I do need you to protect me; to protect me from myself. I will be completely honest, Nadir, and say that I don't know how to exist without you in my life. I thought I lost you for one night and I nearly drowned myself in a bottle of whiskey. I don't care what I have to do to convince you that I'm sorry, I'll do it all. Just promise me that you're still going to be there when I'm done."

His confession and the fact that he had been moved to tears while speaking had ended up making my own eyes fill with tears. I knew that he had probably rehearsed what he had wanted to say a hundred times over and that there was probably so much that he hadn't said, and none of that knowledge made it easier for me to keep my composure. Thankfully, though, Lara seemed to have noticed my state and stepped over to wrap her arm around me, which I was grateful for as Uncle Nadir started to speak.

"You know I'm going to be there, Erik; I'm always going to be there. You don't have to do a thing to prove that you're sorry because what you're doing right now is more than enough; you actually said it, which means the world because I know how hard that can be with the life you've lived, but to know that you have deemed me worthy of hearing those words speaks volumes," he said softly. "I am always going to protect you, you know that. You're my brother, Erik; you are one of the few people that I have left and I cannot lose you. I have thought I was going to lose you too many items before, and I can't lose someone who means so much to me. Not again.

"You weren't the only one who almost drank themselves into oblivion last night; I did it too, Adele can attest to that. I hardly slept once she got me into bed, and I hate that this is happening because I can see how much it hurts her and that breaks my heart even more. But now that you're here, saying these things, I know I"m never going to lose you and I couldn't be more grateful for that because I don't know what I would do if I did."

He was on his feet by then and had hardly finished speaking when Papa threw his arms around him to hug him impossibly tight, but I knew my uncle wasn't complaining; the tears in his eyes and the tightness of his embrace told me all I needed to know.

I saw Papa squeeze Uncle Nadir even tighter than before if that were possible, and I realized that, in his sleep-deprived, hungover state, he was probably trying to convince himself that his friend was even real and truly had forgiven him. Knowing him, he had probably convinced himself that that was impossible.

Uncle Nadir seemed to catch onto that fact as well as he wrapped one arm tighter around Papa and rubbed his back with the opposite hand. "I'm right here, Erik," I heard him quietly say.

They embraced for another moment before pulling apart, but Uncle Nadir grasped Papa's arms, seemingly just to keep him close, but my eyes widened slightly when I noticed my father wince and inhale sharply. I knew that the last thing he wanted was for Uncle Nadir to discover what had happened the night before, but that was impossible to avoid now; if my wife's quiet gasp meant that she had realized what had happened, then my uncle definitely had.

His wide eyes as he looked up at my father confirmed my suspicions; his grip on Papa's wrists loosened immediately and an expression of concern washed over his face as he seemed to scan his friend's face for answers, but Papa wasn't even looking at him. Frankly, I didn't think he could work up the nerve.

"I'm sorry," Papa said quietly. That broke my heart; he sounded so crestfallen, so defeated about having to reveal his mistake to his closest friend. I wanted nothing more than to hug him, but I knew that he needed Uncle Nadir at that moment.

"Are you alright?" Uncle Nadir asked, determined to get the answers he wanted.

Papa hesitated to answer, I noticed. "They've been cleaned properly if that's any consolation," he eventually replied.

"A bit, yes. I just...oh, Erik, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault, Nadir, it's really not."

Uncle Nadir shook his head and reached up to turn Papa's head so they could make eye contact again. "I let you believe that I wasn't going to come back. I led you on in that argument instead of trying to cool you down, and I wasn't honest with you in the first place. Of course I feel somewhat responsible," he said softly.

"I shouldn't be putting that weight on you. I think you were right; I suppose I don't know how to handle myself," Papa said.

"This is a part of you that I have known about for years, since you were a man younger than Gustave is now. I should have known the risks of that fight and gotten over myself to help you."

Papa sighed quietly and closed his eyes for a moment, and I knew he was thinking back to the event Uncle Nadir had just mentioned. I knew it hurt him to think about, but reflecting on it would only strengthen his resolve not to repeat it, that much was true.

"I think we can both agree that we regret that this ever happened," he said as he opened his eyes again to look at his friend.

"Even more so now that I know what it's done to you," Uncle Nadir replied.

"Wounds heal. I've survived worse."

"As true as that may be, you had gotten past this and me running my mouth made you relapse into an old, horrible habit. I am so sorry for that."

Shaking his head, Papa reached out to set his hand on his friend's arm. "No matter what you are telling yourself, this was not your doing. Quite honestly, you had a right to say some of the things you did and I should have been able to take it, but I took things this far and I cannot change that," he said, only to sigh and drop his gaze to the floor again before quietly admitting, "These were my actions and I believe they would have taken place with or without what happened last night."

That caught the attention of everyone in the room; Uncle Nadir frowned deeply as he watched Papa closely while Adele, who had come to stand next to us, exchanged confused glances with me and Lara. None of us knew what he meant, but frankly, all of us seemed afraid to inquire further.

"Why haven't you said anything, Erik?" Uncle Nadir finally asked.

"I just didn't want to worry everyone," Papa said quietly. "That's all I ever seem to do."

With a sigh, Uncle Nadir set his hand to Papa's unmasked cheek and brushed away a stray tear with the pad of his thumb. "This is more worrying than us finding out that you're struggling, barâdar," he replied, his voice soft, tone gentle. I wasn't sure exactly what it meant - it was Persian, that I knew, - but whatever it was, it must have meant something to Papa, as another couple of tears fell from his eyes and he exhaled shakily. "You are our family, Erik, and we want to help you. Your wellbeing means so much to us, but we can't help if you're silent."

"I learned that the hard way. Gustave scolded me about it earlier today," Papa said quietly.

"Well, at least he got through to you. I just want to make sure you're alright, Erik. I thought I'd lost you last night, and I don't know what I would have done if I did," my uncle replied.

"I promise I'm not going anywhere as long as you promise not to leave either."

"No, of course not. We need each other and that's that."

The pair hugged again at that and I wrapped an arm around my wife, both of us a bit teary-eyed as we watched the reunion that we had been praying for. We noticed them having a hushed conversation that we couldn't quite hear, but there was something about the gentility of their voices compared to how harsh they had been the night before that was enough to evoke an emotional reaction in me, and I was crying quietly before I could stop myself.

My sniffling appeared to have been noticed, as both Papa and Uncle Nadir had turned their attention to me. "Why are you crying?" the latter inquired.

"Because I've never seen you two truly fight, not to mention what's happened with Papa. This is a true first for me and it has scared the living daylights out of me. You two are part of the only family I really have and I don't want anything to break that apart. You two need each other and I need both of you," I explained, only for my voice to break as a few tears fell onto my face.

Right away, Papa pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly with Uncle Nadir quickly joining the embrace. "I'm sorry, Gustave. Everything's fine now, we've made up. No need for tears, my boy," he said.

"Yes, all is well, and your father is staying with me and Adele tonight. He'll be okay," Uncle Nadir added as he gently rubbed my back.

I nodded, relieved to hear both of those statements. "Don't do that again. No more fighting," I said.

"You know, Reza said the same thing to us in our younger days," Uncle Nadir replied with a breathy laugh. "We should have listened."

"He was wise beyond his years," Papa said.

"Indeed he was. To think we were too stupid to realize and take his advice to heart. He would be quite disappointed in us."

"Yes, he would have scolded us long ago, but I believe we need it."

After we spent another moment in our embrace, we pulled apart to see Adele smile slightly as she stepped towards us. "Erik, I do want to apologize for my part in this whole ordeal. I was the one who insisted on not telling you about my daughter and I am truly sorry for that," she said.

Papa simply nodded as he waved her off a bit. "I appreciate the apology. I'm sure it wouldn't have been an easy thing to tell me about, so I can see why you hesitated. I shouldn't have exploded on you the way I did, that was unfair," he replied.

"You were furious and for good reason. I can see why you did it, unfair or not."

I expected a response from Papa - a verbal one, that is,- so I was shocked when instead, he took a step forward and hugged Adele. She looked just as surprised as I did, honestly.

"Erik...you're hugging me?" she queried as she wrapped her arms around him. It was a tad amusing to watch; she had to stand on the tips of her toes to make up for their height difference.

"Yes I am, Adele," Papa said simply, seeing no reason for confusion.

"I don't think we've ever done this before."

"You get used to it," Uncle Nadir said as he watched the pair with a fond smile.

Only a few minutes filled with comfortable chatter between us all had passed when there was a knock at the front door, and when Lara opened it, my in-laws stepped into the room, André following behind them. I tensed up slightly when I saw Philippe, but reminded myself that a much fiercer fight had just been resolved; if Papa and Uncle Nadir could solve their dispute, Philippe and I could do the same.

"I believe this might not be the best time," Philippe said as he noticed who was standing in the room, then turned back to his daughter. "We can come back."

"No, it's alright, Father. We just sorted everything out, so it's better that you came now and not five minutes ago," Lara replied.

I was starting to get the impression that they weren't visiting coincidentally. "What's happening?" I asked with a slight frown.

"Father wanted to speak with you, Gustave. You two need to talk things out as well," Lara said.

"Yes, of course. I just wasn't expecting this," I replied.

"That was the point. Your little plan for your father and uncle gave me the idea, so I set it up last night."

I couldn't help but laugh at the cheeky grin on my wife's face; she was clearly quite pleased with herself. "I don't know how I feel about you using my own plan against me. It's a combination of pain and I respect, I must admit."

"I did it because I love you and I want all of this to work out," Lara said softly.

"I know you did, dear, and I appreciate it," I replied as I pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Philippe approached me then and shook my hand, his lips pulled into a tight smile. "Gustave, I want to apologize to you again, even though I know I can't possibly apologize enough. I never should have brought that gift, no matter how many times Raoul asked me," he said.

"And I shouldn't have blown off the hinges the way I did. It wasn't right, I don't know what came over me," I said in response.

"You had a right to. What I did was completely inconsiderate of your feelings and in total defiance of what you've told me in the past about your relationship with my brother," Philippe replied. "I do hope you can forgive me."

"You were only trying to do something kind for a man who doesn't deserve it and I should have realized that, so there is nothing to forgive. I think we all have regrets about last night and we can put it behind us."

Philippe nodded, then turned to Papa. "I extend those sentiments to you as well, Erik."

"And I appreciate that. I believe all of us just want to put this entire issue to rest and I fully support that notion," Papa said as he exchanged a handshake with my father-in-law before he turned his attention to Christine and practically demanded, "Now that I've played nice, I'd like to go back to holding my granddaughter."

Lara laughed at him before passing Christine over, who was already reaching out to him. "Yes, now you can have her back since she isn't a distraction to you and solving your problems anymore."

"I don't know which I'm more offended by," Papa said as he pretended to be shocked. "The fact that you would insinuate such a thing or the fact that you are completely right."

"If you could just hold her instead of having any responsibility at all, you know very well that you would."

"She's not wrong," I pointed out.

"I never said she was. I was just about to agree with her." Papa had her perched on his hip by that point as if he'd done it his whole life. "Now you're with Nonno, my little angel."

Christine replied with a babble that seemed to be happy given the grin on her little face. It was hard to think that his only experience with babies outside of Christine was with Lizzie and Jane's son, William. Sometimes I forgot that he and I began our lives together when I was already ten years old. Though to be honest, some things were better left forgotten.

"I think you're enjoying grandpa status a little too much there, my friend," Uncle pointed out, though I didn't believe there was a single soul in that room who would contest that.

"Am I not allowed to enjoy my status as a grandpa? What's so wrong with that?" Papa asked, smiling at my daughter and repeating the noises she was making.

I looked away for less than a second and the next thing I knew, I was hearing the sound of Papa's mask hitting the floor. We all froze; one could hear a pin drop on the carpet with how quiet it was. I don't think Papa even fully registered what had happened until we had all fallen silent. I looked over to Philippe who was sitting on the couch and found that his eyes were like saucers. I could make out that André, who was sitting next to him, had mouthed the words "my god" but could not find the voice to say them aloud.

Nobody made a sound, which made Marguerite's gasp all the more noticeable. I turned to Lara and saw that she was shooting daggers through her eyes at her mother. Papa didn't seem to know what to do, but at the sound of that gasp, he winced hard and my heart sank.

"Gustave, can you take her for a moment, please?" His voice was cracking as he spoke. Without a word, I was at his side and taking Christine from his arms; she kept looking back at him, confused as to why she wasn't holding her anymore.

I hadn't heard him get up, but I saw André next to my father within moments, handing him his mask without a word.

He quickly put it back on and practically whispered, "I'm sorry about that."

"There's nothing to apologize for," André tried to reassure him, but it didn't do much; he was still standing with me, but I could tell that that might have been the last straw for Papa being able to socialize today.

"Yes, of course there is. I had never intended for that to happen and it's never received well when it does happen." He kept adjusting his mask and pressing it more firmly to his face so that it would not come off again. I wished he wouldn't do that; I knew how much it irritated his skin when it was pressed that tightly to his cheek.

Philippe stepped in as well at that: "Erik, it's alright. You are alright." He got up as well and tried to put his hand on Papa's shoulder, but he jerked away.

"Please, don't feel that you have to say that, it's fine." He kept inching back towards the door as he spoke. "I think I'm just going to get home now, but it was good to see you."

He kept glancing over my shoulder, I noticed, and when I looked back, I understood why he was so intent on leaving; Marguerite still looked completely horrified and had made no attempt to try and hide it. It made my blood boil and I could tell that Lara was just as upset as I was. Papa had been putting up a front for years to her torments and prying, but once she had actually seen him, she couldn't handle it.

"No, please don't leave," I tried to plead with him. I didn't want him alone again, too many negative outcomes were running through my head.

I looked at Lara with panic on my face and she tried to help me. "Erik, that's not necessary," she said quickly.

"Erik, no. Stay here, please," Uncle Nadir said. Even he was trying his best, but it didn't seem to be making any sort of difference.

"It's okay, really," he insisted as he put his coat on and moved onto his shoes. "I need to get home and try to sleep off this headache anyways."

I didn't think there was any hope of convincing him, so I simply said, "Please call me when you get home."

Christine must have registered what was happening as she started squirming in my arms and calling to him. Papa looked back and his eyes softened; he could never bring himself to disappoint her, so he came back and made sure to say goodbye.

"I'll come see you tomorrow, angel. But right now, Nonno needs to go home and sleep. You should sleep too; you look like you need it," he whispered before he kissed the top of her head and turned to leave again, but it was then that she really started to throw a fit, though to be honest, I was actually grateful. I knew for a fact that my father could not say no to her, so it was a given that she would be able to get him to stay.

"Don't cry, my angel. I can stay for now, I suppose, but you have to stop crying," Papa quietly said as he stepped back over and scooped her up.

Christine calmed down almost instantly once she was back in his arms and I couldn't help but smile. Uncle clearly found it amusing as well as he let out a small laugh and said, "She has you around her little finger, Erik."

"She does. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with her," Papa replied as he gave her a little bounce on his hip to readjust himself.

"The only thing you can do; love her," Adele chimed in. I could tell that the general consensus of the group had been to jump over the situation as if it had never happened.

"Well, that isn't going to be difficult. It's impossible not to love this little one."

"It really is," Philippe said. He had clearly joined in the unspoken plan and was standing next to Papa, playing with Christine as well.

It was then that she decided she was done with her Nonno and wanted her grandfather. "Gam-pa!" she exclaimed.

"I'm right here, sweetheart."

"I think she wants you to hold her now, given that she's using my chest as leverage to get towards you." Papa was completely right; she could be quite the determined child when she wanted to be. It was clear that Lara and I were going to have our hands full, given that both of our personalities were combined in her.

Philippe let out a small laugh. "It truly looks like she's trying to leap."

"Yes, it does. So take her before she wiggles her way out of my arms," Papa said as he started attempting to pass her over.

Philippe took her and pulled her close so that he was cradling her. "With pleasure," he said. She was just as happy in his arms as she had been in Papa's and he too melted into her and began trying to tickle her and repeat the babbles she was saying.

My daughter was nothing if not fickle, though; the second her eyes locked on Papa again, she started calling for him. "Nonno," she said as she reached out for him.

"You want to come back? But you're with Grandpa now," Papa said.

"Nonno," she repeated. Her vocabulary may have been limited, but she definitely knew how to get what she wanted.

"Alright, come here." Once she was back with Papa, she started looking between him and Philippe, trying to figure out if she was going to change her mind again. At some point, though, she locked in on Lara and made that her mission instead.

"Mama," she said as she reached for Lara, her little hands opening and closing trying to grab at her.

Papa started laughing and it felt like a wave washed over me; I could finally breathe again. "Looks like she wants neither of us," he said.

"Yes, it seems she found the better option," Philippe said as he joined in the laughter. Christine, however, had a singular goal of getting to her mother as quickly as possible.

"Stop pouting, you two," Lara said as she made her way over to them and took Christine from Papa's arms. "She's probably just hungry. Mother, if you'd like to join me in her room you are more than welcome."

My heart stopped again. I knew that look on her face; that was the look she wore when someone was about to be in trouble. I remember getting that look when I was packing to leave for my assignment during the war.

"Yes, I think I'll take you up on that. Let's go," Marguerite replied; clearly, she had no idea what she was in for. But I knew right away that the real reason she was so eager to go with Lara was that she didn't want to be in the same room with Papa.

LARA

"What was that?" I demanded the moment my mother entered the nursery. I was absolutely stunned by her behaviour downstairs and I needed an explanation before I lost my mind. I put Christine in her crib and turned on her mobile to keep her distracted a few minutes longer. She didn't really need to be fed; I had just needed to get my mother alone for a few minutes without anyone questioning it.

"You mean me reacting like a normal human being?" she scoffed at me. She truly had the audacity to think what she did was justifiable.

"Is that what you're calling it?"

She seemed shocked at how upset I was. "Well, what else would you like me to refer to it as?"

"Perhaps an abhorrent slip in manners."

"Lara, you can't tell me you didn't react similarly," she tried to reason with me, which only made me exponentially more upset.

"No, actually, I didn't because we were in the same broken place when I first saw his face. Not to mention that I am evidently more capable of keeping my social graces." The fact that she still didn't seem to understand her fault was exasperating. "What happened to the mother who taught me that everyone is created in God's image and is therefore beautiful?"

"I would appreciate it if you watched how you spoke with me. You may be upset, but I am still your mother." She really thought she had the right to be upset with how I was behaving. As if she hadn't made a scene where there needn't have been one, causing Erik to almost leave.

"You may be my family, but he is just as important to me as you are, and if you are expecting me to turn my back on my father-in-law because you struggle to see the beauty underneath, you are sorely mistaken. If I recall, were you not the one 'it couldn't possibly be that bad'?" I couldn't help but laugh thinking back to the first time that she had met Erik; she had insisted that he should take off his mask when he was clearly uncomfortable.

"How could I have known?" she asked. "But look at him; one cannot truly believe that it was solely God who had a hand in his creation."

"You couldn't have known. Even I didn't. But I saw him as a person, something more. I saw the father of the man I love and someone who has cared for me ever since I set foot in his life. Another thing; I will not watch my language just because you are my mother. I will watch my tone for the sole purpose of my daughter being in the room with us. If anyone should be watching their language, it should be you."

Mother took a step back; clearly, she had no idea how to respond to my statement, but it didn't matter since I still had more to say: "I'm sorry if you feel you will not be able to associate with Erik now that you know who he is, but that will not put a damper on my relationship with him, and if that means you miss a family dinner because he's there and you are uncomfortable, then that is how it must be."

"You are choosing him over me. I cannot believe you would choose that man over your mother." I knew what she was trying to do; she had tried to pull the same trick while Gustave was gone and she was pushing suitors on me, but I was done humouring her.

"Why wouldn't I? All these years, he has done nothing but try and welcome you into his life. He was so scared when you first met. We comforted each other when Gustave got called away. He has helped me realize I have a gift that you tried to suppress in me for years. He told me I was strong when I felt worthless. I felt more at ease telling him about my miscarriages and not you!" There was so much more I could list off, but that was not the point of the conversation. "And what have you done to repay him for that?"

"Miscarriages? Lara, what are you talking about?" She went pale with shock, which made me realize that I had never told her about that until that moment.

"You heard me, Mother." I calmed my tone slightly, understanding what I had done. "I had miscarriages - plural. I lost multiple babies before I finally carried and delivered Christine."

She stayed silent for a long time - collecting her thoughts, I would imagine. "And you said nothing to your father and me?"

"I told Father, not you, because I knew he wouldn't try to control my life. Still, Erik was there when my first one happened and I told him about every single one after that. Perhaps I felt better going to someone who would understand how broken I felt instead of someone who would simply take me to a doctor. And don't say you wouldn't have; I have heard you gossip for years about the women from your social groups who couldn't have children. I have heard all the terrible names you called them," I said as I wrapped my arms around my stomach, thinking about my afternoon in the gazebo with Erik. "He held me and told me that I was strong and that I was a warrior. And he was right; I am stronger because of it and I wouldn't trade my daughter for anything."

Mother didn't know what to say and I didn't expect her to, so she simply left. I didn't want to go back downstairs yet so I knelt down to be level with Christine in her cot.

"It's okay, baby girl. Mama is here," I whispered as I put my hand in the crib. She latched onto my index finger and I felt a tear roll down my cheek. "I promise you'll always be able to come to me. I know you don't understand that right now."

I heard someone come in and I knew it was Gustave. He knelt down with me and pressed a kiss to my forehead, and I felt myself melt into him as he lingered there. He took my hand that wasn't currently claimed by our daughter's little hand and squeezed it tight, then, with his other hand, he also reached into the cot and let Christine grab onto him as well.

"I hate to fight with her, but I don't want your father to be treated like that. He's dealt with so much," I whispered.

"I'm proud of you for telling her how you feel, but you can't keep pushing your family away for mine. I know that what she did was wrong. It hurts me too that this type of thing happens to him, but you can't do that to your mother." Gustave pulled me closer to the point where we were essentially hugging while each of us had a hand being held captive by Christine.

"I know we can't keep fighting like this," I said. I knew he was right, but that didn't make me regret anything I told her. "I will apologize. I just...I want to make sure your father feels right at home in our family."

"I know you do, but you know he'd hate being the motivator for you and your mother to fight." I hated it when he made points that involved me having to move from a moment like that. I could have stayed with his arm around me on the floor for the rest of my life, but he was right and I couldn't argue that. "Go talk to her. I can watch the baby."

I nodded against his chest and moved my head up to look at him. "Yes, good idea. Thank you."

"Always," he replied before giving me a proper kiss and unwrapping my waist from his arm.

Once I was able to retrieve my finger from my daughter's grip, I practically ran downstairs to find my mother in the kitchen with a kettle on the stove. "Mother," I said quietly. She turned to look at me and I wasn't sure what to do, so I simply closed the gap between us and hugged her tightly. "I"m sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. I lost my temper."

"And I should have been more willing to listen to you," she replied as she let go of me and I was able to notice that Erik was standing in the doorway; he must have followed me when he saw me race by like I had. "I am sorry, I was insensitive. You shouldn't have to hide who you are from us. We're family."

It took him a moment, but he quickly figured out what she was apologizing for. "All is forgiven, Madame. I have dealt with much worse than your immediate reaction. Let's put it behind us, shall we?"

"Agreed," Mother said as she held out an uneasy hand to him. They shook hands and I told Mother that I would handle the tea so she could go back to sitting with everyone else.

Once she was gone, Erik turned his attention to me. "My little warrior, as much as I know you are capable, I do not need you to fight my battles," he said softly. I thought for a moment that he was going to scold me, but I was proven wrong when he wrapped me in a hug. "But thank you."

"I told her, Erik," I said as I felt yet another tear escape my eye."I finally told her about the miscarriages."

I felt his breath catch as he squeezed me tighter. "I'm proud of you, Lara. I know it can't have been easy."

"Thank you for being there."

"An honour and a pleasure to help you, my dear." He loosened his hug so I could properly look up at him, though his arms stayed wrapped around me. "I know you would do the same for me and a heartbeat, and you proved that today."

---

NADIR

I didn't quite know why I had yet to pull myself away from my friend's bedside. I had managed to get Erik to eat dinner and into bed after our eventful day at Gustave's and I knew he had finally fallen asleep, but I couldn't make myself move. I was still kicking myself for even letting him get to the state he was in and couldn't draw my gaze away from either the dark circles under his eyes or the bandages wrapped around his wrists; it had been hard enough wrapping them again and having to see the damage he had done to himself. I knew I would be scolded if I said anything about it; everyone, including Erik, had already done so. I couldn't help it, though; I had come too close to losing him far too many times to heed the advice everyone was giving me to stop worrying.

The quiet creak of the door didn't turn my head away, but I did glance to my side when I felt my wife's gentle touch on my shoulders.

"He's asleep, love, and you should be too," she said quietly, her fingers gently massaging my shoulders.

"As eventful as the past few hours have been, I must say I'm too worried to sleep at the moment," I replied as I turned my attention back to my sleeping friend.

"Then why don't you at least come into the other room and sit with me?" Adele queried.

A fair suggestion, but not one that I was willing to take her up on. "I just don't want to leave him by himself, asleep or not. His mind isn't kind to him, the nightmares will come. They always do."

"I know, and we'll be next door and hear him if they do. But that chair is going to destroy you if you sit in it all night."

I sighed quietly as I carefully set my hand over Erik's, making sure not to touch his bandages at all. "He hasn't tried something like this in so long, Adele. I've always been nervous that he would, but it had been so long that I thought he had finally gotten past it," I said. "Now, though, something I said has set him back so far."

"You know very well that he doesn't want you blaming yourself and neither do I," Adele said as she slowly crouched next to my chair and rested her hand on my knee. "As you both expressed today, things were said last night and we all regret them, but the important thing is that we move past them."

"God, why didn't he say anything?" I wondered aloud, finally vocalizing the thought that had been plaguing my mind with no cares about the consequences I might reap. "He said this wasn't a direct result of last night, but that was the tipping point. It's been building and he bottled it up like always. He...he could have died last night."

"And yes, that is a terrifying thought, but you saw him earlier today; he couldn't even look you in the eyes as he apologized for having done this to himself. He wants to be better," Adele said softly, glancing over at Erik and pulling the sheets over him a bit. "From my experience, if someone truly wants to die, nothing can stop them. He stopped himself from going too far, using what you have taught him throughout all those years. Many things could have happened last night, but I don't believe Erik leaving us would have been one of them."

Another quiet sigh escaped me - they were rather unintentional at that point - and I looked from my wife to Erik, then leaned forward to gently smooth down his hair; that was a trick to keep him asleep that I had learned in Persia and used on his most restless night.

"I just don't want to lose him. It's an absolutely terrifying thought to consider," I said.

Feeling the touch of my wife's hand against my cheek, I immediately leaned into it and looked back to her, waiting for the continued words of comfort that I knew were coming.

"And it is a thought that you don't have to think about anymore because he's right here and he's okay," she said softly, attempting to comfort me with her smile, which was as warm and beautiful as ever, even in the dark.

"I think I'm still just in disbelief. I can't believe this happened again," I replied, lifting my hand to set it over hers.

"The thing that we should be focusing on is making sure that it doesn't happen again. As much as we both want to, dear, we can't change the past," Adele said.

"I know. I want to so desperately, though. There's so much I would change for him; he has so much now and he's still so broken."

"Then we can focus on making the rest of our lives - and his, by extension - the best it can possibly be."

I nodded and glanced back over at my still-sleeping friend. "I really should just leave him to sleep, shouldn't I?" I asked with yet another sigh.

My wife gave me a smile as she brushed her thumb against my cheek. "That is what I've been saying, yes. Come on, love, you look exhausted."

"The exhaustion is starting to set in, I must admit," I said as I gave Erik's hand a gentle squeeze.

"That chair is going to hurt you, I'm telling you. Come sit somewhere more comfortable."

"Let's just go to our room. It's only next door, I don't want to be too far away in case something happens."

My wife nodded as she stood up and took my hands, then took her time helping me up; depending on the chair and the weather, it could be a rather slow process. She set the chair aside, then wrapped her arm around me as we walked towards the door. As we went, though, a quiet noise from my friend immediately made me stop and turn to face him prepared to deal with some sort of nightmare.

"He's only dreaming, my love," Adele said, gently rubbing my back.

I could tell that much just by looking at him; his reaction hadn't grown more violent and he had simply rolled onto his side, his right cheek buried in the pillow as usual, and continued to sleep. Still, my own anxiousness and experience with his restless sleep weren't about to allow me to be easily convinced of him being alright, moving me to ask, "Are you sure? What if something is wrong?"

"It would be a lot louder if something were wrong," Adele pointed out.

"I...I know that. I'm just worried, I'm sorry," I sighed.

My wife smiled, then pulled me down slightly to kiss me. "Don't apologize. I think it's sweet."

"I suppose you could call it that. I know I'm probably anxious over nothing, but I don't want anything to happen to him tonight."

"And nothing will. He's here, he's asleep, and he's safe."

I nodded, taking her hand and squeezing it gently as a form of silent gratitude. "I know. Let's just go to our room so I don't stand here and keep overthinking every little thing."

I cast Erik one last glance before I walked out and made my way to my own bedroom, but my shoulder remained tense and raised to the point that they were essentially pressed against my jaw even once my friend was out of sight.

That seemingly did not go unnoticed by my wife, as she gently said, "Love, you need to take a deep breath. Erik is perfectly fine; he's resting, his body is getting a chance to heal after what happened. He's going to be okay."

"Yes, you're right," I replied as I sat down on the edge of our bed and ran my fingers through my hair.

"You just have to keep reminding yourself of that," my wife added as she sat beside me. "Nothing is going to happen to him. You're helping by giving him a safe place to get better and that is going to do so much to help him."

"Hopefully it will. I can't just keep him here forever; he's not a boy anymore, he doesn't need me to constantly take care of him."

"No, and you are right to say that you cannot keep him here, but what you can do is be there for him when he needs you to be, just as you've done since he was a young man and needed you to be there for him as a father figure. You know that he sees you as his brother, and today, both of you said how much you need each other. As long as you stick close to him and help him when he needs you, everything will be just fine."

I nodded and gave her a small smile as another form of silent thanks. "I hope so. As annoying as he can be, I don't know what I would do without him," I said with a quiet laugh.

"Well, I think we got a good idea about that last night," Adele pointed out.

"Yes, we certainly did," I sighed. "I have to apologize again for letting you see that side of me; my temper, when it comes out, is not something I'm proud of."

"We all have sides of ourselves that we aren't proud of; I know that well," my wife replied. "The more you suppress it, though, the more it will slip out, so it's good to express it now and again. Besides, you were defending me; it was oddly romantic in a way."

I laughed breathily. "At least I have that going for me."

"That and much more," Adele said as she leaned forward to kiss me.

I was smiling slightly as I pulled away; her kisses never failed to have that effect. "I'm glad to hear it. Still, defending you or not, I'm not glad that you heard me yelling like that. At Erik, of all people."

"It's water under the bridge, dear. I think we all agreed on that."

"Yes, I know we did, and I'm glad about that, but I can tell by that look in your eyes that you're wondering about some of the things we said, even now. That I said, more likely," I remarked. She had the inquisitive glint in her eye that only ever appeared when she had unanswered questions, and I wasn't surprised to see it there; things that had been said the night before involving subjects and people - one in particular - that I had never told her about.

"I will admit that a question or two are knocking around in my mind," she admitted.

"Well, let's get into bed, then. I want you to ask them and I will try to answer as best I can."

With a nod and a kiss, Adele got up and walked to her side of the bed, the two of us sitting against the headboard in silence. I told myself not to be nervous - it was only my wife, after all, - but knowing what I could potentially have to discuss made it far from easy to relax.

"If you're uncomfortable, we don't have to do this," Adele said softly as her hand came to rest over mine and her fingers brushed over my ring.

Knowing my nervousness was palpable did nothing to lessen it, but I smothered it nonetheless: "No, I want to be honest with you about these kinds of things. We shouldn't have secrets from each other."

"As long as you're comfortable."

"Yes, I'm fine. Please tell me what you're wondering."

"What were all of those things you said about your son?" she inquired.

There it was - the obvious question about the obvious person that I had seen coming from a mile away, but that was inevitable when I never talked about him at all around my wife. So for a change, I resolved to finally come clean and explain my son's story to her.

"Well, you know that my son was ill since he was young, but when Erik took up living with me, he and Reza got very, very close. He was Reza's best friend," I began.

"I'm glad he had someone in his life, but you've told me that before," Adele pointed out.

"Yes, I know you're familiar with that. But the new information...Reza's illness hit a new low when he was about ten, and both Erik and I could see that he was suffering, so...Erik offered a way to end that suffering in a painless way," I said, dropping my gaze to my lap as I fidgeted with my wedding ring. I was already feeling myself getting choked up and was determined to try to keep it together, as hard as I knew that would be, considering the events of the past two days.

"You're not saying what I think you're saying," my wife said softly.

All I could do was nod, my tears barely being held back. I thought it would have gotten easier to tell the story over time, but I was wrong. So very wrong.

As soon as I felt Adele pull me into a tight embrace, the only thing that I could think to do was melt into it, soaking up the comfort she was offering that I had needed in my lowest, loneliest moments.

"I can only imagine how hard that was," she whispered. "For both you and Erik, but for you especially."

"It was the hardest thing I've ever done; giving him permission to walk into that room and end my son's life. I know it just tore Erik apart to do it as well," I said; I could still recall the strangled sobs I had heard from my friend's room not long after Reza's death, and that only made it harder to contain my own cries of grief. "Still, I had trusted him to do it because I couldn't let my boy suffer anymore. I couldn't watch it happen and do nothing."

"You did the right thing, love. You have to know that."

"I know I did, but that doesn't make it any easier to think about the fact that I let it happen."

Adele sighed quietly, leaning back just enough to set her hand to my cheek again. "I'm sure that he wouldn't blame you for any of it," she said.

"I like to think that he wouldn't, but doubt and guilt are cruel things that tend to creep up on me now and again," I replied.

"Then why don't you tell me about it when that happens, love?" Adele asked with a sigh. "We're a team, but I can't help if you don't tell me about what you're feeling."

I shrugged slightly. "I've hardly talked about it with anyone; only Erik and Gustave know, but I hardly even bring it up with Erik because I know how much it hurts him as well," I explained. "Talking about it is an adjustment I need to make."

"I'm glad you see that. Thank you for telling me, though. I know it must have been hard for you."

"It was, yes, but I know I can trust you with things that are so personal and emotional."

Adele smiled warmly. "I hope you can trust me with anything," she said.

"Of course I can. I would trust you with my life," I replied.

"Well, I pray that the need for that will never arise."

"We'll both pray for that. That would mean that I might have to leave you and I don't want to even consider that."

My wife smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek. "Then don't. I'm always going to be here."

"I hope so. I don't know what I would do without you," I said softly as I pulled Adele onto my lap, my arms wrapped around her waist.

"And I don't care to find out," she replied, only for a slight frown to form on her face as she set her hand on my chest; questions were coming again, I could feel it.

"But, dear, I have to ask: Was there something else connected to what was said yesterday that contributed to last night being so difficult for you? I know you, and you don't just spiral as fast and as hard as you did last night for just one reason."

I immediately had to fight back tears as an answer to her question formed in my mind right away, though I had been hoping to avoid the topic altogether. Still, I had promised myself that I would be honest with her, so that was what I would be.

"Yesterday was a difficult day as a whole, I won't deny that, and I really thought that he would remember that before talking about trust," I said, as vague as that answer may have been.

"What was it about yesterday, Nadir? Please tell me, my love," Adele prompted as she gently ran her hand over my chest.

I took a deep, shaky breath and looked down at my lap when I lost the battle against my emotions and tears filled my eyes. "Reza...my baby boy," I whispered.

The quiet gasp told me that she had put the pieces together. "Oh my goodness...the anniversary was yesterday?" she asked.

All I could do was nod at first. "It's been 41 years, but it still feels like I was only just holding him."

"Oh, Nadir, I'm so sorry," Adele replied as she hugged me tightly. "I wish I had known so I could have helped you."

"I don't like to talk about it with anyone. Not even Erik," I said.

"Now that you've told me the story, I can understand why, but you shouldn't have to grieve alone, dearest."

That was my tipping point; I buried my face in her shoulder just as my tears overflowed and a strangled sob slipped out of me. I hadn't wanted to cry the day before, on the day of the anniversary itself, but that only made me more irritable and cold than I already had been after the fight with Erik. I felt awful about it, but when Adele pulled me closer and cradled my head to her shoulder while I finally expressed my grief and heartache, I knew that no grudge of any sort would be held.

"I'm so sorry, my love. I can't even begin to imagine how much you must miss him," Adele said a few minutes later, only speaking once I had managed to catch my breath somewhat and slow down my tears.

"H-he never got to know the world," I hiccuped, my head still nuzzled in the crook of her neck.

"I know, and he deserved so much more," she replied. "That child did not deserve the pain that he knew."

I shook my head as I reached up and wiped my cheeks with the sleeve of my nightshirt. "He was always so happy, though. I suppose it was because he didn't understand."

"No, I don't think he could have known the true gravity of the situation," Adele said softly as she gently ran her fingers through my hair.

"He always looked so sad when we saw a doctor."

"I would think so. I'm sorry, my love; I can only imagine having to be there to see that was brutal."

I nodded as I finally lifted my head off of my shoulder. "He found the good in everything, though," I said, sniffling quietly.

"Well, of course. He learned that from you," Adele replied with a warm smile.

A laugh of disbelief slipped out of me before I could stop it. "I really don't see how that's true. I dealt with the ugliness of the world."

"Perhaps, but you did it and still smiled for your little boy. That's how he learned to deal with all that he struggled with, I do not doubt it."

I gave her a small smile, only to sigh as I raised my hand to wipe away a few more stray tears that had slipped down my cheeks. "I've cried so much over the years. You would think I would have no tears left to cry," I said.

"He's your son, Nadir; losing your baby hurts like nothing else," Adele sighed. "Tears don't run out after something like that, I'm afraid."

"I wish they would. I know he wouldn't want me to cry."

"He wouldn't, but I don't believe he would want you to be in pain because you hold back every tear on his behalf."

"When the feelings are so overwhelming, tell me, darling," Adele replied, cupping my face in her hands. "Let your tears fall and I will be right there to hold you and to wipe them away."

I gave her a smile, reflecting on what I had supposedly done to deserve her. "What would I do without you?" I queried.

"You needn't consider that because I'm here. You have me and I'm not going anywhere."

"I love you," I whispered as I leaned forward to kiss her. "I'm so glad that I have you. If I didn't, I know things would not have gone well last night. Thank you for pulling the whiskey bottle away from me."

"Well, you're welcome. I just have to laugh at how similar you and Erik are, my dear. It's quite funny," she replied with a quiet laugh.

"It is ridiculous, isn't it? He's rubbed off on me and I hate it."

"Maybe you're the one who's rubbed off on him. The lines are rather blurry."

I shook my head with a quiet chuckle. "I don't know about that," I replied. "He is a stubborn man that doesn't change for many people. Not even for me."

"You're both stubborn," Adele said simply.

"Yes, not my best feature."

"I don't mind it all that much."

I raised my brow, slightly surprised at that statement. "No?" And why not? I don't think it's all that desirable as a quality," I said.

"It's a part of what makes you who you are and I wouldn't have you any other way," Adele replied.

"You're too kind, you know. You can say that it annoys you, I won't be offended," I chuckled.

"I love every bit of you, always and forever. I promise," Adele whispered just before she pulled me into a kiss.

As distracting as the feeling of her lips pressed to and moving against my own may have been, it wasn't enough to keep me oblivious to the sound of my friend calling my name from down the hall. I quickly pulled away from my wife and looked from the door to her, but a word wasn't needed to get her to move off of my lap so I could rush out of the room.

Hurrying into the guest room, I found Erik sitting up in bed, awake, but clearly shaken and confused, if his frantic head movements and elevated breathing were any indications.

"Just look at me, Erik, you're okay," I said softly as I stepped over to his bedside and ever so gently set my hand on his shoulder, holding it steady when he flinched and turned to me.

"Are...are you real?" he asked, finally managing to start to steady his breathing.

"Yes, of course. I'm right here, Erik," I replied.

He frowned and scanned the room again. "Where am I? We...were outside, this isn't right. You were angry, you were leaving, I couldn't catch up to you."

"You're at my home, Erik, in my guest room. I wanted you to stay with us tonight after what happened yesterday," I explained as I sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm not mad at you, it's alright. You had a dream."

"A dream?" Erik repeated.

"Yes, that's all it was. We had argued a bit, but we made up earlier today, remember? Everything's alright, I'm not angry with you."

He nodded silently, then glanced down and caught sight of his bandaged wrists, which seemed to make everything click in his mind. "I'm so sorry," he whispered as he looked up at me again.

"No, don't apologize, Erik, please," I said with a shake of my head.

"But I should. I said so many terrible things, to you and your wife."

"And you already apologized for them. You have said that you're sorry and I accepted your apology. You were angry and said things you didn't mean, but so did I. We both made mistakes."

Erik sighed quietly as he started fiddling with his wedding band. "You swear that you aren't mad at me? I know I would still be mad if someone did what I did to me, he said quietly, his gaze dropping to his lap again.

If anyone else had heard that question, they would have that it a childish inquiry for a man of Erik's age and intellect. I, on the other hand, knew that that question was born out of years of being abandoned by the ones he loved and being given false hope by those he thought might stay. I knew it wasn't childish; it was born out of a desire to protect his fragile heart that had been broken far too many times.

"Erik, I swear that I am not upset with you. It's okay, I promise," I replied as I reached over to hold his face in my hands to ensure he was looking at me. "You don't have to worry."

"Okay," he whispered, giving me a weak smile. "I shouldn't have woken you up. You're probably tired too."

"I am more worried about making sure that you're okay," I said, vouching not to tell him that I had yet to actually fall asleep. "I can always sleep in tomorrow morning, so please don't apologize for something that you cannot control."

With another nod, Erik reached over and set his hand on my knee. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not giving up on me. A lot of people have in the past," he explained. "I just don't think I say it often enough, but I am eternally grateful for the fact that you are still here."

"I'm not going anywhere, Erik. You were my family when I had none, and you were beside me at one of the hardest points in my life when I lost my son," I replied, giving his hand a squeeze when I saw his eyes start to fill with tears. "I will never be able to express to you how much it means to me to have you in my life."

I hadn't expected him to lean forward and hug me, but once he had, I wasn't going to reject it; we didn't do it very often, and I knew that, in his present state, he needed it.

"I believe we should both try and sleep," I said a few moments later, patting his back before I pulled away from our embrace.

"I will make an attempt. You should go back to bed with your wife, I'll be fine," Erik replied.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure, I can manage on my own. If I need something, I know where your room is and I know my way around the house. I'll be okay."

I nodded as I got to my feet again. "Alright. Good night then, Erik," I said.

"Good night, Nadir. And thank you...for everything," he said softly.

"It's been a pleasure," I replied, giving him a small smile before I stepped out of the room to walk back to my own.

My throat was tighter than I had expected as I reached my bedroom and laid down next to my wife in silence. I hadn't thought my emotions would bubble over again, but something about seeing how frightened Erik had been about losing me made it hard to keep my composure.

"Are you alright, love?" Adele asked after a moment, shuffling over to my side and setting her head against my shoulder.

"I will be," I replied.

"Are you sure? You look a bit upset."

"I am, but I'm taking the advice of someone that I love very much. She told me that I can't change the past, but I can help to make things better moving forward."

Adele smiled. "Well, I'm glad to hear that. Whoever she is, she seems to know what she's talking about," she said with a quiet laugh that bordered on being a giggle.

"She always does," I replied, chuckling to myself as I leaned over to kiss her.

"Everything will be okay, my love. I know you know that, but I figured I would reiterate it to be absolutely certain."

"You truly are the greatest, you know."

"Well, thank you. That's very sweet."

"Thank you for putting up with both me and him. I feel I should have warned you that he and I come as a package before we got married," I said, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face.

She simply waved me off. "Oh, I figured that out quite early in our courtship. I don't mind it; Erik has been a part of my life for a while now, so the little struggles and quirks that come with him are nothing new," she replied. "It was only your pesky little nuances and things that I had to get used to."

"Oh, really? And what would those be?" I asked with a quiet laugh.

"Well, you have a nasty habit of coming in from the yard and leaving your shoes on, which just tracks mud in the house and drives me slightly mad. You snore more than I care to admit, and I will be honest, kisses with the beard in the way were an adjustment."

I hadn't been expecting a list, to be quite honest. "Would you rather I shaved?" I proposed.

"I don't know if I could get used to you without a beard," Adele said, studying my face as she ran her fingers along and through my beard. "But you would really do that if I asked?"

"I would do just about anything for you, you know that," I said softly.

"What do you mean 'just about'? What's the exception?"

"Anything beyond my moral standards, which are just a bit stricter than Erik's."

"Ah, I see. Well, I wouldn't ask you to do anything beyond that, so we shouldn't run into a problem."

"Thank goodness for that," I replied, smiling as I draped my arm over her waist and pulled her closer to me.

Adele smiled back and pressed a kiss to my cheek. "You shaving your beard, however, is a different matter. The kisses wouldn't tickle as much, but I have a feeling I would miss it," she said.

"So I will assume that the verdict is to keep it?" I asked.

"It is, yes. I can tolerate the tickling, I suppose," she said with a nonchalant shrug.

"I can only imagine the struggle."

"Yes, it really is a struggle. I have to try and get past it every time I kiss you."

"Well, I suppose you'll have to bear with me or stop kissing me. Your choice," I chuckled as I gave her another kiss.

She smiled at me when we parted. "It won't be the latter, so yes, I suppose I'll have to deal with it. Still, I doubt it will be that much of an issue. You're quite a good kisser, as I've mentioned before."

"The same goes for you, dear."

Our lips met again at that, but even as I pulled her closer and she draped her arms around my neck, I still broke away and glanced at the door.

"Perhaps I should check on Erik just one more time," I said as I started to try and get up, only to stop when Adele held me in place.

"I'm sure he's fine, love. Try not to worry," she said softly.

I sighed and relaxed enough to rest my head on her shoulder. "I know. I'm anxious, I know. Just...now that he's already woken up, I'm a bit more on edge than before."

"And if he wakes up again, I know you'll be there, but tensing up at the thought of him waking up won't do either of you any good."

"Yes, you're right. Of course you are, but...he looked like such a mess, Adele," I said quietly. "Between everything last night, what with the fight and him harming himself, and what happened today with his mask coming off, I can tell it's hit him hard."

"I didn't know he'd never shown them. I wasn't expecting Lara's mother to react the way she did, though," my wife replied.

I rolled my eyes, the simple mention of Marguerite managing to annoy me. "I'm not surprised that she did; she doesn't have the best discretion when it comes to that sort of thing, it seems. The first time they met, she questioned him about it. If I recall correctly, I believe she insisted it 'couldn't possibly be that bad.'"

"What a hypocrite."

"Yes, that would be the word I would use to describe her as well. Erik has never been all that fond of her, especially after that first introduction, but he plays nice for Gustave, Lara, and Philippe."

"I don't think I'd be able to hold my tongue around her if we interacted more regularly," Adele sighed.

"That's the best part - Lara doesn't," I replied. "She has no patience for any of it."

Adele nodded firmly. "Good. Better to be told off by her daughter than by someone she hardly knows like me. I certainly would if I could; Erik has been through far too much. He doesn't deserve more grief at the hand of the parents of his daughter-in-law."

"My thoughts exactly."

"At least he has plenty of joy in his life to help him balance it out. The smile on his face when he's with Christine is so sweet," Adele said.

"That baby has him in the palm of her hand," I chuckled. "God help him when she gets older."

"If he can't say no to her now, he'll never be able to. He isn't able to deny Elizabeth anything, never mind his granddaughter."

That was certainly undeniable; Erik had adored his goddaughter since she was a newborn baby and he had conquered his anxiety about holding her. I had seen the look of adoration in his eyes then, and I had seen the exact same look, only increased tenfold, on the day he had held his granddaughter for the first time. For years, he had protested the thought of having any children in his life at all, too afraid of his own inexperience to want to risk raising a child. Now that he had a son and two little girls in his life, though, I knew he would never give it up.

"There's no hope for him. He's a goner," I said with a chuckle.

"Most definitely. He loves her so much, though, it's sweet to see," Adele chuckled.

"It really is, yes."

"Oh, do you happen to know where his title of Nonno came from? I know it's Italian, but I can't say that I have an idea as to why he got Christine to call him that," my wife said. "I meant to ask him earlier, but it slipped my mind."

I thought to myself for a moment, trying to think of any details I knew of Erik's life in Italy that would point to an answer. "He's never explained it to me either. It's from his time in Italy, which is where he learned Italian in the first place. I don't know much, but I do know that he became very close with the man he stayed with, Giovanni. He went so far as to call him Father once or twice."

"So there is a lot that you still don't know, even with your years together?" Adele inquired.

"He continues to surprise me, yes."

"It seems like it. Still, whether the origins are known or not, it's a sweet little title."

I nodded, unable to disagree with the statement, especially when I knew how happy it made my friend. "It suits him. Eventually, once she can pronounce more words, I do hope I'll get some form of a nickname," I said with a smile.

"Oh, but you already do, love. You're Deer, remember?"

"Ah, yes. How could I forget?" I asked, laughing quietly as I thought back on Christine's best efforts to say my name. "I wish you hadn't heard that you know."

My wife simply laughed and kissed my cheek. "I love it," she replied. "But I'm sure you'll get a true nickname in due time. She can't even pronounce Grandpa quite right yet when she refers to Philippe, so you'll have to be patient, my love."

"And there is nothing wrong with that because we have time. All the time in the world," I said softly as I pulled my wife into a kiss, feeling safe and secure in her arms knowing that everything in my life had finally fallen back into place.

---

so so so sooooo sorry that it's been so long! my co-author and i split up this chapter because it's so long, and she was dealing with some medical stuff (not COVID, don't worry) that made typing and writing difficult, so that on top of school for both of us made it hard to find time to write. but here it is! we really hope you enjoyed!

this is the second-to-last chapter, unbelievably! the epilogue will be along very soon; it's already half-written. thank you so much for sticking with us on this journey!