Title: Don't Fear the Reaper
#: 09. I Love You More
Author: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Summary: A fic about death - as in, everyone you care about dies; this is not an exaggeration. A fic wherein the Chagny family is of intense interest to a soul reaper.
Fandom: Phantom of the Opera
Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul
Warning(s): AU, reaper!Erik, OMC, fluff, kid!fic
Word Count: 2,652
Rating: K+

A/N: Now this is a properly short chapter. Thank goodness for small favors. Also, unsurprisingly, it's easier to edit these half written chapters than it is to tackle the nothing of . (Sorry?) I am desperately trying to finish this story though.
Story note: Pure domestic fluff. You doubt me? Don't doubt me when I say that.

o.o.o.o

Raoul is forty-five when he finally feels his age.

"Pierpont Victor Marie de Foix, you come back here this instant."

The young boy several meters in front of him stops mid-stride but does not turn around. He is too focused on watching a stray dog sprint around the corner, completely unconcerned that his pursuer has ceased his chase. Only once the animal is out of sight does Piers turn around. Jamming his hands into his pockets, with practiced ease he bows his head contritely as he walks to stand before Raoul. Brown hair that is growing much too long covers a face that is so reminiscent of the boy's mother and Raoul laments that his clothes are already in disarray only five minutes into his care, thinking of how his sister would chide.

All of his nieces and nephews have spent at least one summer with their eccentric uncle, a title Raoul carries with much pride. Most of them have pleaded for more visits if only to escape their parents for two months out of the year. This summer, it is the youngest of Amelie's alone who comes to him. At eleven years old, Piers has yet to outgrow the desire to lose himself in the forest and the sea. The others are much too old to think spending a summer with their uncle on a fishing boat is a proper diversion. They are more inclined to the city life that he now only remembers distantly, as though it had been another lifetime completely.

Seeing the children is a joy he cannot have imagined, a joy outlined in sadness because in their presence, he sees all the things that once had been and also that which will never be. He remembers a childhood that had been filled with loving parents, laughter as well as tears. He thinks of his brother, of the family Philippe was never able to have and the uncle that the children are deprived of in his absence. Raoul himself has never expected to have anything more than his siblings and their families and now, Erik but the children breathe fresh life into his well-loved routine. At times though, he cannot help but wonder if having children of his own would have been the same. They inspire in him a ferocity, an instinct to protect them from any hardship they may come across and a desperate need to see them flourish. It is a good feeling, one that he oftentimes struggles to remember when they try his patience after long weeks spent together.

Piers mutters when he is close enough, "It is de Chagny."

Raoul shifts his nephew's luggage in order to carry it all in one hand so that he can place his other on the young boy's shoulder. "You cannot run around town so heedlessly." His nephew looks up momentarily to pout at him, but he looks contrite and Raoul does his best to explain himself to ease the censure. "This is a busy port and a growing town. Those with carriages or wagons may not easily see you nor be able to maneuver around you." He musses the boy's shaggy hair. "And if something happens to you, then who is to keep me company this summer? Do you know how angry your mother would be with me? Oh, she would yell and possibly place me in the punishment corner."

Piers grins at his joking, no longer dragging his feet through the dirt. "Sorry, uncle."

Still, Raoul keeps a hand on his shoulder as a reminder to not run off again, knowing that the town looks different summer to summer and will always succeed in leading a child to distraction. Once they have passed much of the bustle, passed the last of the well-worn streets, Piers looks up at him expectantly. Raoul stops and even though he takes his hand off of his shoulder, finds himself having to say, "You know that you cannot simply disavow your father's name."

"But I am a Chagny." He stomps his foot as punctuation.

Raoul struggles not to smile, especially when Erik appears, threading his fingers through his hand. "This one is a handful. He reminds me of you."

Raoul snorts in response and when his nephew looks hurt, gives a sidelong glare to Erik. He is about to say that he was not laughing at his statement, but Piers shouts with his shoulders pulled back and head held up high.

"Mother is a Chagny and she says I look just like you when you were younger."

"Next thing you know, he will want to join the navy," Erik comments lightly as he presses against Raoul's side and it is difficult for the once viscount not to roll his eyes.

"Your mother is Amelie de Foix-neé de Chagny," he explains mildly, not bothering to address his statement of their similar appearances. Piers does look more Chagny than Foix – though to Raoul, Piers looks quite like Amelie did as a child – but saying so would only encourage him. "She is de Foix now though she will always be a Chagny."

His sister finds it funny. Even her husband, the baron, finds it to be more amusing than disrespectful. He suspects it is because they have four other sons who more than willingly carry their father's name that they find such humour in Piers's insistence at being a Chagny. Raoul simply cannot help but feel that disavowing a surname is like denying not only one's parents but one's siblings as well, a thought that sits uneasily with him.

His nephew's lower lip quivers and Erik squeezes Raoul's hand in solidarity even though he knows the blond is going to eventually break under the young boy's dejection as he does every time the subject comes up.

"You should be proud of your origins," Raoul says, trying to stay firm, "of your father and family."

The boy's expression does not change and Raoul cannot suppress a sigh. He inclines his head toward the path, unwilling to release Erik's hand to point. "Go ahead. Do not run off the path again. When you run through another nettle bush, I will not help you."

"Yes, uncle." Piers sniffs at him and turns slowly, shoulders low and feet dragging once more.

Frowning, Raoul makes a decision and pretends to mutter to himself, "But I can see the Chagny countenance."

The change is immediate in his nephew and Raoul knows he has been heard. Piers glances up at him with wide eyes, fighting a grin before he races off ahead, repeating again, "Yes, uncle" loud enough to scare some nearby birds into flight. He zigzags down the path, looking at every plant and insect that catches his eye.

"I do not remember being that energetic," Raoul comments even as he tugs Erik forward in order to keep the young boy in sight.

The reaper smirks. "You were worse and much more dramatic. I believe you were around his age when you thought you would never love again."

Raoul groans. "I was young, very young then." Checking first to make sure the path is empty of any observers, he tilts his head up in a silent request that Erik easily fulfills by pecking him gently on the lips. He adds with a smile, "I was also thankfully wrong. Although at the time, I was blind to you." If he thinks back on it now, he had loved Erik though. He has probably always loved him, first as the dearest of friends and confidants and now as his dearest heart. "I did not think to love you as I do now."

"I was but an old man to you then," Erik replies, lightly. "There is no age difference greater than that seen through a child's eyes."

Raoul wonders at that, his smile fading in thought. Erik's physical appearance has not changed in all the years that he has known him. His presence has been immutable and in the years that have passed, he has tried to explore every single facet of the reaper's being but knows he has barely even begun to understand it all. He wishes, not for the first time, that they had more time. "Is it odd?" he asks eventually.

Seeing his frown, Erik's tone becomes serious. "Is what odd?"

The reaper's concern is always most clear in his eyes and Raoul is pleased to see the emotion not because he worries the older man, but because it shows the ease with which he can read him. "Me," he tries to explain, "aging when you remain the same."

"You are simply catching up." Erik squeezes his hand and it is with an easy shrug of his shoulder that he brushes of Raoul's concerns. "Finally. You know I have loved you since you were but a babe. Do you think that would change now that you have a few wrinkles upon your face? Do you think anything could change the way I feel for you?"

He immediately feels cowed by the thought, that this man, that this being could have loved him for so long. He thinks of the years spent together and apart, thinks of everything Erik has done in order for them to be together. "I…" He wants to say thank you for the gift of not only his love but his sacrifices, but it feels less than the other man deserves. Raoul knows he is not worthy and has greatly abused his affection for a large part of his life and though they have since reconciled for those lost years, it never feels enough. Instead of focusing on such regrets, he asks instead, "What did you see that day I was born?"

Erik looks confused for a brief moment before he realizes what he is asking. "I saw you. Your soul called to me like none before and I believe none after will. I could do nothing more than answer."

Ducking his head, Raoul bumps his shoulder against Erik's not sure what to do with the way his heart feels so full. "Does it still call to you?"

He watches as the reaper closes his eyes, footsteps not faltering for a moment. The corners of his lips pull into the most gentle smile Raoul has ever seen from him and he wishes he could capture the moment forever in his mind.

When Erik opens his eyes a moment later, he makes sure he has Raoul's gaze before he answers earnestly, "It has never stopped calling."

And, Raoul has to look away because it is embarrassing how pleased he is to hear the words despite having already guessed the answer.

He is startled when Erik presses a kiss to his cheek and whispers in his ear, "I love you."

His response is immediate though, "I love you more," although he is disappointed that they are still outside so that he cannot kiss Erik how he wishes he could. "What would you do without me?" he jokes, eager to see how his reaper will respond this time. With all the answers that he has been given throughout the years, Erik has never disappointed.

He does not disappoint this time either. "I would live in darkness," he answers before kissing him once more on the cheek, lingering there for a moment. It takes all of Raoul's control not to simply drop the luggage and pull him into an embrace. Erik helps by pulling a respectable distance away, taking with him part of the temptation.

Still, Raoul grins the entire way home, his grip on Erik's hand a steady comfort and promise for later on that evening. When they reach the picket fence signifying the edge of his property, he realizes that he has lost sight of his nephew. The young boy is no longer running around the path and the front door of his home is still closed. Looking down the road to see if he had gone past towards the beach, he notes that it is empty before checking the bench beneath the tree and the forest nearby. Piers is nowhere to be found though.

Before he can begin to worry, Erik leads him towards the front gate where Raoul finally spots him. His nephew is on his stomach in the garden inspecting what Raoul can only assume is a bug. He does not doubt that his trousers and shirt are filthy from his position, but he does wonder how dirt has somehow been smeared across the back of his shirt as well.

"Piers!" He looks to the heavens for a moment, thinking of all the laundry that he will be forced to do in the coming months.

His nephew looks at him confused because he has not only stayed on the path, he has also made it home before him. "Uncle?"

"You can always make him do the laundry," Erik suggests, having guessed the source of his grief.

Raoul thinks it to be sound advice when the boy sits up and reveals not only dirt but grass and fruit stains on his clothing.

Unaffected by his uncle's obvious dismay, Piers asks, "When are we going to start our morning tomorrow?"

Knowing it to be a lost cause, Raoul simply places the luggage down to help him out of the strawberry patch, dusting him off as best he can. He is mostly thankful that it has not rained recently.

"Do you not want to sleep in after your journey?" he suggests hopefully.

"No." Piers crosses his arms even though he allows his uncle to fuss over his clothing and rub at his cheek in an effort to get the dirt off there as well. "I want to be on the L'âme Prêts. You promised this year that I could do more than simply sit and watch."

"It is a lot of work." Raoul had rather hoped Piers would have forgotten about that promise. He grabs the luggage and ushers him inside. "Remove your shoes," he instructs. "You must remember that you have other chores here as well. We have no maids or butlers."

"I know, uncle," Piers replies in a near whine, hopping on one foot to remove his shoes. "And I will do them, but I even asked Mother and Father and both agreed that I could help."

Raoul steadies him to help remove the shoe, lining it up against the wall once it is off. He thinks of all the ways a boy as young as his nephew could injure himself but says, "I cannot go back on my word, can I?" He has never successfully said 'no' to any of his nieces and nephews, especially when the option of blaming his sister has been taken away.

"No." Piers shakes his head. "You cannot." Then, handing him his other shoe and grabbing his luggage, he heads towards the stairs. "I shall be down shortly for dinner," he states imperiously, "during which we can discuss tomorrow's schedule."

Erik stifles a laugh behind his hand though he knows it is useless when Raoul glares at him half-heartedly. "He very much reminds me of you," he says fondly, knowing that the blond cannot respond while his nephew is still present.

Piers is up the stairs and in the guest room before Raoul tugs at Erik's hand firmly and quickly forgives him for his comment so that he can finally give into the urge to embrace him. Wrapping his arms around the reaper's neck, he revels in the solid presence and warmth so readily available to him. He hums in contentment before leaning his forehead against Erik's shoulder and stating, "It is going to be a long summer."

Erik turns the small distance to kiss Raoul on his temple and does not need to see his grin to know it is there.

Raoul is forty-five and it feels like through some unknown luck of fate, they have made a family.

o.o.o.o

End chapter 09

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!
Chapter Review: What? A kid!fic. And no one dies in this chapter! For shame. One more chapter to go y'all. It's… not going to be fluff. Just you know. Not.