Erik's POV

Yes, I could have killed Raoul, but I couldn't…I had a son to care for, a son who needed me and I wouldn't put my freedom in jeopardy for anything.

"Who was it?" I growled. "Who was it that hurt Christine?"

I let the stunned man go, standing there awaiting his answer. He had hired men to take me out, when in reality they did nothing but harm my Christine!

"Who?" I barked. "Who was it?"

"I…I don't know."

I grabbed hold of Raoul's shirt once more.

"You could be put in jail, you fool! Help me, so that I can help you…Help me put these bastards away!"

"I don't know who they are."

I shoved Raoul against the bar, knowing that I needed to get back to my son. Oh, but I would not rest, would not sleep until these scumbags were off the street.

"You find me those men." I warned. "You have until the end of the week, boy. If I don't have names by then, I will be coming for you."

With that, I left the bar and headed back to the hospital to meet my angel. Oh, she wouldn't wake…My son was laying there at her side, brushing her bandaged hand, seeming just as lifeless as my angel was. I sat there in silence for the longest time, lifting my boy up off the bed when the sun began to set.

"I don't want to leave mother." He groggily whined.

"It's dinner time." I said. "We'll come back later."

"But I'm not hungry." He argued.

"Well, I am." I said. "Come with me."

"But what about mother?" he asked, looking back at her. "What if she gets hungry?"

"Well," I clasped my hand around Gustave's. "When she wakes we'll bring her something. For now, we should let her sleep."

When my child finally silenced, I took him out of the hospital and led him to the Phantasma Gourmet to eat dinner. I seated us at my private booth, my employees already pouring us water. I placed a menu beside him, his head laying on the table as if he weren't in the mood.

"Come on, Gustave," I mewed. "Pick anything you'd like."

"I'm not hungry." He sighed.

Oh, raising a child on my own was anywhere near easy. To think, my boy not being hungry! He didn't eat breakfast, so how was it that he wasn't hungry now. But what could I do to get him to eat? I opened my menu, flipping over to the section of foods I wouldn't dare eat on a normal basis.

"Well, look what we have here." I said. "Chocolate milkshakes…"

I lifted my eyes from the menu, looking to see if I had caught his attention. When it didn't, I looked back down at my menu. Oh, think, Erik…What could I say to make him want to eat? Finally, I decided to order a milkshake and a plate of spaghetti. How sitting here staring at my child made me sad…I knew he wanted Christine, but it was just going to be he and I for a while, and if I couldn't make him happy I would feel like a failure.

"I was thinking you and I could spend some time in my workshop?" I suggested. "Perhaps we could work on music."

"I don't feel like it." He sighed.

No music? No music? Oh, this child was really hurting inside. A few moments later, my chocolate milkshake arrived. Gustave's eyes went wide…finally, I had his attention. I paid no mind to him as I placed a straw into the tall glass, sipping on the chocolaty drink. Chocolate wasn't my favorite thing in the world, and I tried to restrain myself from eating sweets, but for Gustave, I would do so for tonight.

"This is really big." I mentioned after taking my first sip. "Too big for me to finish off by myself."

"Is that a chocolate milkshake?" he curiously questioned, lifting his head up from off of the table.

I nodded. "Sure is. But then again, you didn't want one, am I right?"

"You didn't say anything about chocolate."

"Well," I slid the glass towards him. "Why don't you have this one then? Chocolate milkshakes don't agree with my stomach."

When Gustave took a sip, I sighed, for at least I was getting the child to eat. My stomach was still upset over Christine, that being the reason that I wasn't very hungry. Though, my child still needed to eat, so in reality, this outing was mostly to fill Gustave's stomach. The child was growing and needed as much nourishment as possible. Even though Gustave was sipping on the milkshake, he still seemed upset.

"Good?" I asked, attempting to lift his spirits.

He nodded. "Yes, thank you, Mister Y."

"I know you're still upset about mother." I said. "I'm feeling sad as well, but we can't dwell on things, Gustave. What's done is done… Staying upset will do nothing but make us ill. Do you understand?"

My child looked up at me, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks.

"But…but what if mother dies?"

"Mother is not going to die, Gustave."

"She isn't waking…what if she dies? Please," he begged. "I need to know."

I let out a heavy breath, never wanting to think about such a thing.

"Then you would live with me." I said. "I will raise you myself."

"You won't leave me?"

"Never." I assured. "You're stuck with me for life."

Gustave wiped away his tears and continued sipping on his milkshake, never saying another word about Christine. Was that the problem? Did he believe that I would leave him if Christine passed? Never! He was my child and I would always be there for him, no matter how old he became.

"You know, I love your mother with all my heart, Gustave." I said after a while. "And when she gets better we're going to go see our new house and live happily…Do you understand?"

My child slowly nodded, and that was good enough for me.

Gustave's POV

Yes, I was still upset about my mother and I wanted her to wake… I did feel terrible about the way I have been acting around Mister Y, but I couldn't help it. After eating dinner, he took me by the hand and led me towards one of his workshops. I could do nothing but endlessly glance out the window, wishing that mother were here now.

"So, Gustave," my father began. "How about that music lesson?"

He was already sitting down at the nearby piano, waiting for me to come away from the window. Why weren't we at the hospital? Why weren't we with mother? I knew it hurt Mister Y to sit there and watch my mother sleep on, but it's where we belonged.

"No thanks, Mister Y." I huffed, placing my head down into my arms that were resting on the windowsill.

Within a few moments, I heard the angry notes of the piano echoing off the walls. Oh, my heart was aching as I laid there looking at him through the window's reflection. He was pounding out his sorrows, drowning them out through the keys of his instrument. Sometimes, I would do the same, never knowing how else to let out my anger. His song was angry and filled with hatred, most likely hatred of himself. Usually, I could tolerate music of any kind, but tonight, all I wanted was silence.

"Would you cease that horrible racket!" I cried, turning to face him. His music came to an abrupt halt. "We shouldn't even have left the hospital. Mother needs us…"

He groaned and continued to play again… When he did, I knocked over his end table and hurried out the door.

"Gustave!"

I heard his voice calling me, but I didn't stop. I ran across the boardwalk and back towards the hospital in the dark of the night.

"Gustave, stop!"

I peeked over my shoulder to see him hobbling after me, his arm reaching down for his leg at every few moments. I knew his metal leg was hurting him, but I didn't stop.

"Gustave, please…" he cried. "Please…"

Even when he fell flat on his face, I didn't stop running. But what was I doing? I halted myself when I heard him struggling to his feet. Yes, my mother needed me, but this was my father. I had a temper as ill as my papa's, one that caused me to do things that I sometimes didn't mean to do. I had ran, and yes, I had meant to do that, but what I didn't mean to do was cause my father to chase me and then fall on his face. I sighed and began approaching him again, lifting him up from under his arm.

"Are you all right?" I asked, wiping the tears away from my eyes. He nodded, hiding his hands that had splinters indented in his palms from when his hands slid across the wood of the boardwalk.

"I'm sorry." I said.

Mister Y didn't say a word as he and I walked in silence back to the hotel…

Erik's POV

"Ah…" I cringed as I leaned alone over the sink that was in our bathroom. I had locked the door, deciding to drown out my anger in solitude. My boy had a temper that was as fueled as my own at times. I couldn't blame him for doing some of the things that he did. But, like a fool, I had chased after him, and therefore, endured the consequences, those consequences being hands plastered with splinters. I stood there with a needle, removing the tiny shards of wood out of my palm, cringing as every one of them came loose.

"Mister Y…"

My son was knocking on the bathroom door, obviously concerned, for I had been in here at least thirty minutes so far.

"Yes, Gustave?" I growled.

"Are you all right?"

Once more, I cringed, not anywhere closer to getting the splinters out.

"Perfectly well, thank you."

"Could you please let me in?" he asked. "I could help you."

I paused from picking away at my palm to open the door. Afterwards, I went back to performing the surgery on myself.

"Mister Y, you're doing it wrong." He wailed.

"And just how would you know?"

I was in no mood to be bothered, but here was my son, correcting me…Oh, how it irked me to no end!

"Here," he pulled my palm away from the sink, grabbing the needle and beginning to remove the splinters from my palm. He was a fascinating child, for the way he handled my wounded palm was the same way my angel handled any part of my body. Strange how both Christine and myself were in this boy.

"One time," Gustave said as he pried up more splinters. "I slipped and fell on the deck of Raoul's estate. My hand was filled with pricklies. Mother calls them splinters, but I call them pricklies. Which do you prefer, Mister Y?"

"I've never really thought about it, Gustave." I said. "They're painful."

"Well, mother pulled them from my hand. She showed me how to do it…You were removing them the wrong way. You'll damage your skin if you push the end of the needle in too deep."

When the final splinter was out, I ran my wounds underneath the faucet, bandaging them before cleaning up.

"It's late, Gustave." I said. "You should go to bed."

My child yawned. "I'm not tired, Mister Y."

I scooped him up into my arms, placing him down in the bed of my hotel room.

"Go to sleep. In the morning we'll go to the hospital and see your mother. All right?"

He nodded. "All right."

I stayed by his side until he fell asleep, only emerging when Christine came into mind. I wanted some time alone with her and I knew this was my only chance at getting that time. Therefore, I donned my cloak and hurried off to the hospital, promising to return before Gustave woke.

"Has she improved any?" I quietly asked the nurse while I was signing into the guest list.

She shook her head. "Same as the last few days."

I murmured a simple "thank you" before walking down the hall. My heart stopped within my chest the moment I walked through her bedroom door and noticed Raoul sitting at the side of her bed. Oh, how dare he! How dare he come here and sit at her bedside as if he were sorry! No, he couldn't, he wouldn't…He had caused her to look this way, he had caused my angel ugliness. What made matters worse, was that he was caressing her hand. Oh, no…No, no, no… I walked straight to his side and pulled him to his feet. I would not act like a child, but I wouldn't stand for this.

"Late night visit, monsieur?" I angrily spat. "You have no right being here."

"I needed to see it for myself." He said. "I needed to see if what you said was really true."

"And is she hideous enough for you?" I growled. "Well?"

I forced Raoul's body around so that he was facing her.

"Look at her face, monsieur. Look at her hideous cheek. But then again, only someone as hideous as me could ever come to love someone as gruesome as she is…Am I right? Oh, you can take her back to Paris now, monsieur. Take her back to Paris and parade her off as your beautiful wife like you used to do…" I turned him back so that he was facing me. "What? Change of heart now?"

"Enough…" he growled.

"That's what made you and Christine so different, monsieur." I cried. "She could see the beauty within someone's soul; my soul. One to her does not have to look like a handsome prince to be in her presence, to gain her love. You, on the other hand are all about looks."

"No…"

"Then look at her and tell her that you still think she's beautiful, that she's still amazingly wonderful…Tell her!"

But there was only silence.

"No? Then why are you here? To me, I was first attracted to Christine's beauty, that beauty being on the inside. I loved her heart and soul before I ever loved her appearance. I loved her voice more than anything in the world. Oh, but you only loved her for her beauty. She is still beautiful, boy…but you can't see that. If you loved her…"

"I do!" he growled. "I have always loved Christine."

"Perhaps, but your love is not like the love I have for her. And you know this…"

I released Raoul, allowing him to adjust his shirt.

"I came here tonight to see if what you said was true."

"And now that it is, what are you going to do about it?"

"I…I will get you the names of the three men I hired to take you out. I will do it for Christine, to apologize…But, I must ask you for something in return."

"I'm granting you your freedom!" I snapped. "That is enough. I could send you to jail for the rest of your life for what you have done…Attempted murder, monsieur!"

"I understand." He replied. "But I know that Christine still holds some sort of love for me within her heart. I need you to promise me that she will never know that I hired those men…Yes, I hired them to kill you, but…but she might think otherwise."

I stood up straight, folding my hands behind my back, squeezing them and pretending that the boy's neck was in their grasp.

"And why should I?" I growled. "Why should I do this?"

"Because I'm not only going to give you the names of the men that did this, but, I'm also going to give you something else."

"And what is that?"

"Christine."

My hands dropped to my side. Christine? He was finally going to leave us? Surrender and leave my angel and I? I didn't want to believe it.

"You're jesting?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm not. You're right… Look at her. She's going to need special care, monsieur. Not only special care, but undivided attention. You already know how to care for your own face, and I'm sure Christine will be needing the same care."

"You lie…"

"I have to live the rest of my life with the guilt of knowing what I had done to her. I have to live with this, monsieur! To have her come back to Paris with me only to have to look upon her every single day would only kill me…It's already killing me. Besides…she would never leave with me. Her heart lies with you, I just couldn't let her go."

I nodded. "You have my word."

"Thank you…"

"Where will you go?"

"Until I find the names of the men, I will stay here. After that, I will return home to Paris with my tail between my legs. Just promise me that you'll care for Christine. Promise me that you'll always love Christine no matter what. Tell her how beautiful she is and how much you love her."

"Always." I confessed. "Christine is beauty herself."

"She always did love you." He said. "There wasn't a day that went by during our marriage that she wouldn't mention you."

And with that, Raoul left. Tears streamed down my cheek as I turned back to face my sleeping angel. I brushed her distorted cheek, leaning down to press a kiss to its roughness.

"You're beautiful." I cried. "You're the most beautiful woman in the entire world. I will always tell you how beautiful you are, Christine."

And with that, I took a seat at her bedside, interlacing my hand with her own. I loved Christine..I always loved her and I always would.

"Loved you yesterday, Christine, love you still, always have, always will."

And that, was a promise.