Erik sighed and motioned for Christine to remain where she was. He walked over and opened the door, the attic slowly revealing itself to him once more.

Adellade was there, holding Gustave with one arm.

"Father!" Gustave called out, going to run toward him, only to be held back.

He glanced at her, seeing the fear in her eyes, the desperate look of a lost girl...her father's pistol lying next to her within a moment's reach.

"Adellade," he began. "It's alright, Adellade." He took a slow step forward.

"No," she gasped, reaching for the revolver. "Stay back."

He held up his hands. "You're not going to hurt him," he continued. "You would never hurt Gustave, Adellade."

"No. Stop!" She shook her head. "Don't say anything! I have to do this!"

"Adellade…."

"I have to do this!" she yelled, tears coming to her eyes. She pointed it at Gustave. "It's the only way. I have to."

"You would never hurt him, Adellade. Look at Erik. It's alright. You don't have to hurt him."

"It's the only way," she whispered. "It's the only way I can protect him-the only way I can stop them from hurting him."

"Who wants to hurt him?"

"You. Madeline. Everyone! I don't know! Just that they'll hurt him over and over again! I can't let that happen!"

"Father?" Gustave asked.

"It's alright," he reassured, kneeling. "No one will hurt him, Adellade. Put the revolver down and let him go."

"I can't." She shook her head. "Don't you understand? I can't. If I don't do this: they'll hurt him. I have to protect him. I have to keep him safe."

"He's frightened, Adellade," Erik pointed out. "Look at him. You don't want to hurt him. I know you don't."

"They'll hurt him if I don't do this. Don't you understand? They'll hurt him!"

"Let him go to his mother. She'll keep him safe."

"No." She shook her head. "I have to do this. It's the only way to keep him safe. It's the only way to stop them from hurting me!"

His eyes widened in understanding. Gustave was seven years old. Seven years old…. The very same age Adellade had been the last time she had stepped foot in this house. The same age she had been when Madeline had sold her own daughter off to gypsies. The same age when the gypsies would force her to dance or else she'd be hurt….

And now here she was: a revolver held to Gustave's head because somehow she believed that he would suffer the same way she had. Because she knew that death would be far better than any punishment she had endured-than any nightmare that had haunted her sleep. Because some part of her believed that she may finally end everything by pulling that trigger….

He swallowed, seeing her kneeling in that room, looking up at him with fear in her eyes. A scared, frightened, lost little seven year old girl cornered into an attic by all the monsters she had ever seen. A little girl who didn't know any other way to escape. A little girl who wished that someone had saved her all those years ago from enduring all the pain and torments and punishments she had gone through.

"Adellade," he whispered. "Don't do this. Please."

"I have to."

"You don't." He slowly crawled toward her and held his hand out. "Give Erik the revolver."

"I can't. I have to do this."

"You don't, Adellade. Give Erik the revolver, Adellade. Let Gustave go."

"It's the only way to stop them from hurting him. I have to do this."

"Let Gustave go and give Erik the revolver, Adellade."

"I have to do this. It's the only way." She swallowed. "If I don't do this they'll never stop. Never. I want them to stop."

"I know, Adellade. I know. But this isn't the way to do it. Let Erik help you. Let me help you, Adellade."

"You can't. There isn't another way."

"Yes there is, Adellade. Just hand Erik the revolver and let Gustave go. Let him go and I promise I'll help you. I won't ever stop helping you, Adellade."

"You can't."

"I can." He swallowed, not entirely knowing if the words were true, but he had to say something. "You're frightened, Adellade. You're frightened and you don't know what to do anymore. Erik can help you."

"You can't."

"Let Erik help you. Hand me the revolver, Adellade. Let me help you, Adellade. Please. Just let me help you."

"You can't."

"I can, Adellade. You once helped me. Right here: you helped me. Let me help you now. Just let him go and let me help you."

She hesitated. Adellade slowly released Gustave. He stood and ran past Erik, going toward where Christine was waiting.

He reached out and gently took the revolver from her, setting it aside. "It's alright. I'm here now. You're safe."

"She wanted me to hurt you," she whispered. "To hurt both of you. She said it would make things better."

"Madeline?" he guessed.

She nodded. "She says horrible things about you. She always has."

He reached out and gently tilted her chin up to look at him. "Madeline is dead, Adellade. You know that, don't you?"

She opened her mouth to respond, only to hesitate. "She said I had to stop the monsters."

"Madeline Destler is dead. She is dead and buried beneath the earth. She's been dead for quite some time now. I want to hear you say that. Say that you know she's dead."

"Madeline is dead," she whispered.

"Whoever you think you saw-whoever you might've talked to you-isn't her, Adellade. It never was."

"She says you're lying." Her eyes fell toward the floor. "She says you've always been lying."

"No." He shook his head and pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "Erik would never do such a thing. Erik loves his Adellade. He would never want her hurt. Never."

"Then why don't they ever stop?" She sniffed and buried her face in his shirt, tears falling from her eyes. "They never stop, Erik. The monsters-the nightmares-the punishments. They never stop and they never will."

XXX

A/N: Happy Holidays and happy reading :)