"Keep going, keep going…almost there…almost…" the doctor's instructions grew fainter as the vocal world around her went just as black as the visual world she had shut out by closing her eyes. Though was that a baby cry?

"Christine!" Erik screamed as her hand went limp and slipped from his. He caught her before she fell onto the mattress. "Christine! Christine!"

Dr. Bundy kept himself occupied with the baby. Safe outside the mother, he made quick work to clean the infant's face of embryonic fluid and meconium. However embryonic fluid and meconium did not excuse the scalp.

"He's alive!" While barely crying the doctor picked up an eyedropper of saline solution and shot it up both the baby's nostrils. His cries got louder.

The mother was as pale as her nightgown as Erik continued to call her name.

"Don't lay her down! Prop her up with pillows against the headboard. Splash her with the water first before the smelling salts," Dr. Bundy's words were firm as he still focused his attention on her lower half. He removed the forceps and cut the umbilical cord.

Doing as instructed but slightly different, Erik slapped his wife's face with the wet washcloth. The woman gasped and kicked her feet.

"My baby! My baby!"

"Thank God!" Erik whispered sitting down beside her.

"He's alive, Christine and so are you."

Her breaths were heavy gasps causing her shoulders to rise and fall. "A boy! Did you hear that, Angel? We finally have another boy! You say he's alive but is he okay? Is he okay?"

Dr. Bundy swallowed as he walked to the head of the bed holding the crying bundle, "He's alive but I don't know how healthy he is. You'll see for yourself."

Taking the bundle, Christine pushed the blanket aside. Any other mother would have gasped.

"You said you were a month premature but he seems to be of good size, weight and health minus…that."

Erik noticed how Christine did not gasp. She gasped with Charlotte. He stormed out of the room over Matilda. Christine did not gasp because she knew better now. Staring down now he could only imagine what his own mother did; his father recently dead.

"Oh, my sweet new son," Christine untied the front of her nightgown with one hand to expose one of her breasts, already leaking. The infant latched instantly and Christine giggled as she looked up at her husband, "Already reminding me of someone."

"Mrs. Y, I wouldn't recommend getting too attached," Dr. Bundy stood tall. "As you know all babies have soft spots but his is very mal-deformed. And the other parts of his scalp and head…I know your one daughter has some abnormalities but they are minor, superficial. These…well…might not finish developing and he'll survive a year if we are lucky…"

Erik stood, closed his eyes and balled his hands into fists. Christine bit her lip and turned her attention back to the doctor, "We should probably get ready for me to pass my womb remains."

Dr. Bundy smiled, "Yes, yes. Wouldn't want to lose you over having that remaining. Tragedy enough…"

"There is no tragedy! He only looks like his father!" The Phantom's voice boomed off the walls as his mask and wig were tossed to the floor. "He'll not only survive but thrive!"

The wide-eyed doctor nodded, "Yes, he looks just like his father. Had I known…my mother-in-law only told me you wore a mask. I assumed it from some sort of injury, not a birth defect. I am a man of science, Mr. Y and if you have made it into adulthood with your condition and your daughter is thriving with a similar one, odds are your new son will do the same." He turned to Christine again, "Now let's get the placenta out and you cleaned up."

Phantom and Doctor walked side by side down the stairs. At the front door, Erik handed Arthur a large sum of bills. "Thank you for saving my wife and baby today. It's just…" The maskless and wigless Phantom looked away.

"It's just that you saw yourself in that baby because it was a boy. You saw how loving and accepting your wife was and wondered how different your life would have been had your mother done that. Then I spoke and reminded you of everything you had been through. You returned to what you knew best, dramatic scare tactics," Dr. Bundy chuckled. "I see why my mother-in-law is fond of you."

For the first time in his life, the Phantom of the Opera felt like he did not have the upper hand, "Are you a medical doctor or are you dabbling in that new psychology?"

"I said I am a man of science," Dr. Bundy tucked the money into his coat pocket. "Contact me if anything happens but if not, I will return in a couple of days to check on Christine and the baby."

"Perhaps you will join me for a drink in my music room then?"

The Doctor smiled, "Sure, Erik. If I were you, I too would want to be friends with the first person who did not recoil at the sight of my deformed face."

"I never thought I was that transparent."

Dr. Bundy laughed, "All of New York knows Mr. Y is The Phantom of The Opera from Paris. Go sit with your baby and wife. Good night."

The door shut; Erik chuckled to himself as he ran his fingers through his thin locks. Am I that transparent? Did I really just meet a person who did not recoil at my face? Did I so obviously want to be his friend?

He walked down the hall towards the music room, "Children, come meet your new brother, Arthur!"