It was incredible to think that they had been married for just under nine months when their first child entered into the world nearly a month ahead of schedule. Bringing a child into the world would be a huge step for them, they had discussed all of their fears and hesitations in the weeks before the birth, but neither expected it to come so soon.
But their fears vanished as soon as they both laid eyes on the handsome little boy. Little Gustave. For Christine the fears of hideousness dissolved when she saw the beautiful and flawless angel in her arms. But despite the unmarred face, Christine knew she had not gone into labor early, she knew that this baby was the Phantoms. But with him gone, why was there any point on dwelling on it. Raoul would make a perfect father. Though he had his moments of being a brutish husband, he had more moments of being a hapless romantic.
"A son!" Christine chuckled, as Raoul wiped the sweat from her brow. The exhaustion was evident on both of their faces.
"You nearly broke my hand."
"Yes, well," Christine sighed, "I believe my ordeal was far worse."
Gustave let out a little cry.
"Thank you Marie," Raoul commented to the mid-wife who had just finished packing up her kit. "And everything is well?"
"You have a healthy little boy and a strong mother to care for him."
Christine looked up at Raoul with her large eyes, "And I have a loving husband." As she said the words she was suddenly overcome with overwhelming grief. Her face sank and she began to weep.
"Christine!" Raoul gasped, sitting back beside her on the bed. "What's wrong?"
She merely shook her head, too distraught to even speak. He would guess it was only the pain and the turmoil she had experienced in the process of giving birth – not that it was shame at the paternity and the lie that she would keep to her death bed.
~o~
The apartment was quiet as Madame Giry read a book and glanced up occasionally at Erik, busily composing the music that played in his head. The process had been going on for months. He would compose and compose and work diligently on one piece before discarding it, claiming that there was no muse that could make him write such masterpieces again.
The door to the apartment flew open, revealing Meg. Madame Giry let out a startled scream to see her daughter's hands and pale blue dress stained with dark crimson blood.
"Meg!"
"Mother!" Meg trembled, baring her hands for both to see. "It's Jack."
"What's happened? Are you hurt? What's-"
"We were mugged…" Meg collapsed in a heap to the floor. "I am fine but… He.. He.."
"Where?" Erik hissed, rising to his feet and jumping into action.
"Just in the alleyway." Meg cried hysterically, trying to rub the stains from her hands. "He's dying! He needs help."
Erik wasted no time in making easy work of the flight of stairs the separated him from the alleyway. He could only gasp in horror as he saw the pool of blood beneath the doctor's neck. His vocal cords had been serrated and he was bleeding profusely.
"Jack?" Erik asked, kneeling beside the man. He vainly tried to speak, only to find that he had no voice. He grasped his neck tightly, trying to stop the flow of blood. "You aren't going to die." Erik muttered, lifting the man easily into his arms and carrying him back up to the flat.
Despite his tall, gangly torso, Jack was remarkably light.
Erik had a plan. If it didn't kill him to attempt such an unthinkable feat, it would do nothing on the chances of him living without the creative genius intervening.
To think of someone being unable to speak again. Or even sing. It was unthinkable.
~o~
"Hey Sofie!"
"Hey Amiee." Sofie teased back, prodding her friend in the ribs.
"Can you believe it? Opening night?" Amiee squealed in delight as she peeped through a hole in the curtain.
"Who are you looking for?" Sofie questioned, trying to calm her nerves as she stretched methodically.
"Oh, you know. Lovers, Suitors, Husbands. The big three."
"Always looking for love out there in a big crowd, aye?" Sofie grinned, joining her friend at the curtain.
"You know," Came a voice from behind them, startling them. "It's poor business, looking out through the curtain like that. Most theatres frown upon it. You should be watching your back Sofie. The wrong eyes might see you."
"Get lost Louise." Amiee hissed, shooing away the fierce looking blond. "She's just jealous." She said to the side, glancing at Sofie.
"Oh, I know she is. I know she wants my job."
"You are the star for heaven's sake!"
"Now, prepare yourselves for the feats of extraordinary aerodynamics! Miss Sofie and the Chicks of Flight!"
It was incredibly cheesy and yet it was their job. In frilly yellow costumes that revealed far too much skin, they would attempt stunts that sent them flying high above the audience. Tricks that caused the audience to "ooo" and "ahh".
~o~
"Is he… is he going to live?" Meg asked as Mr. Y stepped out of his bedroom, blood staining his hands.
"Yes," A grin formed on his lips. With little medical knowledge and the belief that a voice shouldn't be lost.
"What did you do?" Meg asked, warily.
He laughed, "It is truly amazing what sort of apparatuses a creative mind can use to create a masterpiece. I warn you Meg, he is not the same. No… far from it."
"What did you do to him?" Meg let out a cry of desperation, tearing past the Phantom and rushing into the room. She let out a shrill scream at the sight she saw before her, much to the Phantom's pleasure.
He was not the only freak that lived here now.
Doctor Jack Brandon could speak now. Though the sound did not come from his mouth, as any normal human. No. His vocal chords had been irreparably damaged. Had the Phantom not chosen to attempt saving his voice, he would be mute forever. Instead, the make-shift surgeon used an old phonogram that had been left in the flat when they started renting. Though rustic and rather peculiar, he found that the funnel made the perfect object to emit the words and sounds that Jack made. By attaching it in a rather difficult to explain fashion, he had discovered a way to make a voice box.
"Meg?" Jack questioned, surprised to hear his own voice, though different, coming from his throat.
"What has he done…" Meg gasped, stepping hesitantly towards the bed. Where there had been blood and a fiercely opened wound, there was now a metal funnel with a funny looking metallic band that wrapped around his throat.
"He's my first re-creation." Erik announced as he stepped back into the room, drying his bloodied hands on a clean white towel. "What do you think?"
"That's grotesque." Meg covered her mouth as if she meant to lose her stomach.
"Meg, it's still me." Jack reached for her hand, only to have her jerk away. Meg turned, rushing out of the room in disgust.
"It's hell being an abomination." Erik laughed, sitting down on the stool beside his bed. "So Jack-"
"Don't call me that." Jack hissed, startled at the strange noise hissing made from his throat.
"What am I to call you?" Erik questioned, "Doctor Gangle?" He referred to what he had been telling Jack as he operated on him sans-sedative. He was such a long, tall, gangly man. It was comical to see someone with far more leg than torso move around.
"Yes."
~o~
Hmmmm, what do you think? Clever? Do you like seeing different angles? Also, if you don't understand who Sofie is, read my fanfic A Fleck of Hope.