Despite the impenetrable darkness of his lair, Erik could have sworn he felt the gentle warmth of sunrise on his face. The light that he had forever banished from his life had returned to him with Christine. That morning he had awoken with her still wrapped in his arms, her soft curls grazing his neck. If not for the business he had to tend to that day, he would have stayed with her that way all morning. He gently lifted her arm from his chest, careful not to disturb her. Once all was prepared for his departure, he turned and looked upon Christine once more. Her angelic face appeared so innocent while she was lost in sleep. He leaned down and placed a light kiss on her forehead, causing her to stir slightly and murmur in her sleep.

"I shall return shortly with a surprise for you, my angel," he whispered sweetly in her ear.

As he moved towards the lake, Erik paused to look in an uncovered mirror. All his life, he had hidden from his own reflection, ashamed and afraid of the repulsive monster he found there. But if a person as incredible as Christine could accept him this way, then there must be something there of value, something that he hadn't seen. Erik ran his fingers over the curves of his mask. No matter how accepted he felt within his own home, he could not trust others outside of his world to feel the same way. He made sure his mask was fitted in place and wrapped his cape around his shoulders.

"You shall have the family that was always denied you," he promised the image in the mirror.

Erik made the journey in excited, yet controlled anticipation. He kept the curtains of his carriage drawn, unwilling to look out on the world that had rejected him. What did he need of them? Soon he would have what he had always envied them. As he approached his destination, he could hear the laughter of children. The home that stood before him was modest, yet there was a warmth about it. Erik gave three forceful knocks at the door and stepped back. The door swung open and a girl of no more than six looked up at him in wonderment.

"What's wrong with your face?" she questioned.

"Marguerite, don't be rude," her mother spoke firmly, sending the young girl back inside the house.

For a moment the two adults stood in awkward silence. Erik was not accustomed to engaging in polite conversation with complete strangers. He was a master of many arts, but being face-to-face with this woman, he couldn't manage to form words into speech.

Finally the woman spoke, "Is there something that I can help you with?"

Erik cleared his throat, "I believe that there is a child in your care, the son of my poor departed sister."

"Ah, I know the child you speak of," she replied knowingly. "We have tried our best, but nothing seems to bring him from his melancholy."

"Understandable, given the loss he has suffered," Erik said unfeelingly, reaching into his pocket. "I would quite like to have my nephew at home with me. This should cover for all your troubles," he added as he handed her a roll of bills.

"Monsieur, this is most generous," she said in amazement, running her fingers over the money, "but I'm not sure if…"

"I feel that the boy will be better served if he lives with family."

"I wasn't made aware that the boy had any family," she replied suspiciously.

"I'm afraid my sister and I had quite a falling out many years ago. We had recently gotten back in touch, when she was suddenly taken from us," he answered her, his head dropped in feigned mourning.

"Well, if you're sure you can take care of him…" the woman said, her attention once again on the money he had given her.

"I shall wait for him and any of his possessions in my carriage," Erik spoke with authority.

"I'll make sure they are brought out presently," she responded to his back.

Erik sat in his carriage, the drawn curtains providing him secure darkness. As he waited, his thoughts wandered back over the events of the past night. The rift that had existed between himself and Christine was slowly being repaired. He hoped with this act that Christine would finally and completely sever all ties to that foolish boy and accept him as her only true husband. Erik was brought back from his musings when he heard a soft tap at the carriage door. When he opened it, the young girl he had seen before was standing before him, holding the hand of a small boy.

"Here is his bag. There isn't much, just some clothes and a few toys," she said quietly.

Erik placed the bag on the seat beside him. He extended his arms and lifted the boy into his lap, gently cradling him against his chest. He tapped the window in front of him and the driver pulled away from the house. The boy's cries pierced Erik's ears and large tears rolled down his chubby cheeks. Erik remembered how he had sung to a young Christine when she cried, mourning the loss of her father. His voiced soothed the child into an easy slumber, a peaceful sleep which he remained in the duration of the trip.

Christine was waiting for him when Erik returned to the lair. "Where have you been? I was starting to worry," she called playfully, running towards the lake.

Christine gasped as Erik stepped from the boat, a child in his arms. Erik lowered the boy to the ground, his fingers hidden within the chubby fists. On unsteady legs the toddler walked towards Christine, collapsing in her open arms. She lifted him up and held him close to her, tears welling up in her eyes.

"He's so beautiful, Erik," she said, fingering his blonde curls. "Where did he come from?"

"An orphan, I'm afraid. I know how you've longed for something more, for something to complete you. We can be a family Christine."

Christine beamed, her eyes moving from the young boy in her arms to the husband who stood before her. "What is his name?"

Christine didn't notice the victorious grin crossed Erik's face, for it was quickly replaced with a smile of genuine happiness, "His name is Christophe."

It seemed that all the years of silently stalking the opera house, veiling himself in the shadows, had served him well. Erik had learned of the Vicomte's incarceration and the loss of his son through the chatty gossip that rang throughout the halls. He glanced to the chair where Christine sat with their son. The child's giggles and smiles were matched with Christine's. She now had everything she needed to keep her happy and content; she wanted for nothing. There would be no more memories of her former lover, of this Erik was sure. Erik laughed quietly to himself, realizing that through an ironic twist of fate, he owed all his current happiness to that wretched boy.