A/N: Wow, this has been sitting in my files for a long time now. But here it is! The final story and sequel to A Phantom's Sister/A Phantom's Angel. Spoiler warning for those two fics. Go and read those if you want to avoid the spoilers. There is a summary of what happened last in A Phantom's Angel at the very end of this chapter if you don't want to go back and re-read/re-live all of that emotional pain.
And if you know Adellade, then you know that there are very many possible trigger warnings.
With that: on to the story and happy reading :)
I DO NOT OWN PHANTOM OF THE OPERA (That belongs to Leroux (as this is book Erik)).
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She walked through the streets, looking at the different buildings and shops. Adellade sighed and adjusted her cloak. The days were getting colder. Soon it would be winter, and that meant snow. She loved the snow. Snow meant that it was cold, and cold meant that she wasn't in the Persian desert anymore.
She stopped in front of the opera house, seeing the signs still up. News of Madeline Destler's death had spread through the headlines faster than anyone could contain it. The de Chagny family had stopped funding the opera house after her death. Thus the managers had given up their positions and packed their things to go someplace else. Garnier had been unable to do anymore with the opera house in his old age, and had thus signed the papers over to Erik. Somehow, he hadn't wanted much to do with the building either, and had signed it over to Madame Giry to be converted into a ballet school. Thus work had begun on the required preparations.
The opera house had been nice, she supposed, but Erik was no longer the opera ghost living underneath the cellars in a home on top of a lake. Nowadays, he was a simple man living in a house within the city, working as a composer for various opera houses and concert halls all over Paris. Of course the people complained that he never showed his face outside his home, and the press was eager for a small gossip about him.
Adellade smiled to herself as she continued on. They never knew that he had a wife he would take walks with on a small winding path out in the country. They never knew that the woman who sang at the village festivals was once a young ballet dancer who found herself being taught to sing by her Angel of Music. They never knew that Erik would pack a lunch and journey to the cottage and up a small hill to sit underneath a tree and have a picnic with the two people he loved most in the world.
She opened the door of her flat and hung her cloak up. She set a kettle to boil and started up a small fire to warm the place. It wasn't much, but it was home. Erik had found the flat for her after she had insisted that she live someplace else. Adellade had to admit that he was right in accompanying her to search for a flat. The city was still familiar, while still being less than a day's carriage ride away from Erik and Christine. The rooms her flat offered were modest and mildly furnished-most of it being furniture from the lair beneath the opera house.
A knock sounded at the door. She went to answer it, seeing the person there.
"Erik? What are you doing here?"
"I can't visit you from time to time?"
"Of course." She stepped aside as he walked in. "You're here alone?"
"Yes."
Adellade glanced at him. "Has something happened?"
"No." The kettle boiled and he went to pour tea.
"Erik…."
"Adellade…." He handed her a mug.
"What happened? And don't say that nothing happened because something did!"
He sighed and sat at the table. "Nothing happened, Adellade. I only decided to come pay you a visit."
"On your own? Without Christine?"
"I am allowed to go wherever I please without my wife."
"And leave Christine alone?"
"Can I not visit my own sister simply because I wish to? Must there be a reason for everything?"
She sighed and shook her head. "You are a terrible liar." She sat down across from him. "You're running from something. What is it?"
He hesitated. "Christine believes herself to be with child."
"That's wonderful though!"
"Is it?" he muttered.
Adellade paused, eyeing him. "Why shouldn't it be? Christine will be a wonderful mother, and you'll be an excellent father."
"I've never considered the idea of being a father-an actual father."
"You never considered the idea of being an actual husband before," she argued. "Yet you married Christine."
"You expect me to know how to raise a child from infancy?" he challenged. "How to care for a child? Erik was left to look after himself-was left with little family from the beginning. Not even his father-however decent the man might've been-cared for Erik."
"You managed to look after me. On the streets and in the inn especially. Not to mention that this time you won't be alone. You'll have Christine and myself to help."
"And you think the child will not shun Erik the moment he is first seen?"
She hesitated. "I wouldn't know. But time will pass, you know. Christine was once afraid and now she hardly flinches at all."
"How can you be so certain?"
"I don't know. I simply am. I doubt there could be a parent worse than Madeline in the world. Not to mention that I did grow up being raised by you." She smiled. "If you can teach me how to read, how to see the worlds the books told, how to live on the streets, then you can raise your child."
"I suppose you're correct in that."
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She smiled, holding the newborn in her arms. "He's so beautiful, Christine. Did you ever decide on a name?"
"Gustave. After my grandfather."
"I think that's a lovely name for a lovely little boy like him." Adellade looked him over. "He seems much smaller than I would imagine, though."
"You weren't much bigger when you were born," Erik pointed out. "Though how loud you cried certainly made up for the size."
She giggled, handing him back to Christine. "Well he seems much better behaved than I was." Adellade lowered her voice. "You'll both be wonderful parents."
"You think so?" Christine asked.
"Of course." She smiled. "Not to mention the endless amounts of lullabies he'll be falling asleep to. I wonder which he'll love first? His mother's singing voice or his father's compositions? Oh, and you must have Erik play him the violin! Promise you will, Christine?"
"I will, don't worry."
"You seem more excited about Gustave than either of us," Erik pointed out. "Perhaps it's time you had a family of your own? After marriage, of course."
"I'm only happy for you, and I know that you'll both be wonderful parents," Adellade corrected, "but the idea of a family or even marriage…. Besides: I'm certain anyone who may want to marry me would have to fight through Erik first."
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Erik smiled, watching as Gustave slept in his cradle.
He crept out of the attic, quietly sneaking his way down the hall. He gently pried the door open, slowly walking over to where the cradle was. He peered over the edge, seeing the small infant within.
Erik frowned, wondering how something so small and tiny could make such a loud fuss. Though he couldn't help but sneer at the face. This one didn't have any hint of deformity. This one they had called "perfect". This one they were intent on keeping, intent on showing off.
The thing opened her eyes and he stifled a gasp as she looked at him. He didn't want to be caught by them, but he couldn't look away either. She reached up a tiny hand and tried to grab at his mask, tried to reach for it. He went to move her hand away and she wrapped her fingers around one of his, holding it in a tight grip.
She yawned and her eyes slowly closed back as she fell asleep, still holding onto him. He glanced at where they slept and tried his best to wriggle free. She mumbled and her eyes reopened. She started crying, trying to reach for him.
Madeline woke and saw him there. He gasped and scrambled back, trying to run away.
He gasped for breath, firmly closing the door behind him, sliding to the floor once he was safely back in the attic. He held his hand, gently inspecting where she had held onto him. She had wanted to hold onto him, to keep holding onto him….
"Don't worry," Erik reassured, smiling as he ran a finger along his son's cheek, "you'll be alright. You'll be safe. Erik will look after you."
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A/N: So, I think this fic will probably be posted about every other day or so. Be sure to follow so you can stay updated on all the latest chapters. As always, the entire thing is completed so it will be updated all the way to the end.
A Phantom's Angel (things that happened):
Erik got into some fun shenanigans as the Opera Ghost and fell for a lovely soprano named Christine. Meanwhile, his sister Adellade ran into some problems involving a certain Vicomte de Chagny. Then, of course, everyone's favorite mother Madeline Destler (so much sarcasm here, folks) made an appearance, which made everything so much better (all the sarcasm)! So, in the end, Madeline tried to kill Erik, Adellade ended up killing Madeline, and we're all just one big happy family here folks. Also Erik and Christine got engaged.