Erik's POV

"You haven't said much these past few days." I said, approaching my room to spot my angel glancing out the window from her bed. Christine was like a silent angel, hardly speaking to me most days. It hurt me dearly, but what could I possibly do to make her feel better? There wasn't anything I could do.

"I just don't have anything to say." She sighed. "How can I, when I look like this?"

"Christine, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. It hurts me to watch you lie here like this day after day. You haven't even told me what happened to you last week. I feel that it is of my fault. One should feel like that when you begged to come along and I denied you your wish…Now look what's happened to you."

"I don't remember anything." She cried. "I don't…"

"But that is a lie, ange…" I approached her bedside, taking a seat and brushing her bandaged hand. Oh, she wouldn't even look at me! How it hurt me to sit here and have her look away.

"Christine, I am the monster. Look at your beautiful face. A little scars have not darkened your existence."

But still, my angel stared endlessly out the window.

"Do you remember what they even looked like? The men who attacked you?"

Christine shook her head. I knew that she knew something, but I didn't want to push her.

"All right." I assured. "I understand that something as horrible as that takes time to mend."

"They raped me, didn't they?" came her low shutter. My heart stopped within my chest…How could I possibly tell her the truth? But I had to…I couldn't continue keeping such things secret.

I hesitantly nodded, causing more tears to fall down her cheeks.

"You think ill of me now." She cried. "You will probably never want me again."

"That's not true." I grabbed her hands with my own, pressing light kisses to her knuckles. "Never, Christine. You are the only woman I shall ever want."

"Just leave me be."

I frustratingly ran my fingers through my locks, standing to leave the room as she had requested. What could I do in order to prove to her that she was loved? That she would never need anyone but me ever again? I loved this woman with all that I was and I was willing to do anything to make her happy. Perhaps showing her our new home would make her happy? Yes! It had to… It was nearly finished, or so that's what I had been told. Perhaps the shell of it was complete and not the inside, but that was good enough for me. Gustave and I could take my angel to an early dinner, and then, afterwards, we could show her the house. I would do anything to see her smile again, for she had not smiled since before the accident. I was about to tell Gustave, when a knock occurred at my door. Curious, I motioned Gustave, who was currently sitting at the piano to stay put. I cracked open the door, only to find Raoul standing outside of it with a bouquet of roses in hand. Quickly, before my child noticed, I hurried out into the hall, closing the door behind me.

"What are you doing here?" I growled. "Do you have the names for me yet?"

"Close to it." He confessed. "But I…I just needed to know if Christine were all right?"

I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at the red roses he was holding.

"Are those for her?"

The man nodded, and I snatched them from his hand, throwing them to the ground.

"So, you give Christine to me and then you come here with roses, like some sort of Don Juan… I thought everything was settled."

"It is, monsieur. She is all yours."

"Then why are you coming here bearing gifts and wishing to know about her condition? Regretting letting her go are you?"

"No, of course not. I would never want her back now…I told you why back at the hospital. I was hoping I could see her though. Please, I can't go on living with myself."

"Christine has not smiled in days." I said. "And I doubt it that she will feel any better upon seeing you entering her room. She is miserable enough as it is."

"I know a way you could make her smile." Raoul began. "Whenever she was feeling upset back in Paris, I told her stories about the past. Sometimes, I brought you up and it would make her smile for what seemed like a hundred years. Perhaps reminiscing about your voice lessons and suppers together will bring back our old Christine."

I nodded and looked at the man standing before me. As much as I hated him, I knew how guilty he felt about what he had done to Christine. He may always hate me, but in the end, I knew he would always love Christine.

"You can see her, but not today." I said. "She's not in the best of moods. The stress would do her no good. But, I will allow you to see her, to say your goodbyes. Another day perhaps…But first, I need you to keep your end of the bargain and get me those names. And when you have them, I will fit a last visit in for you."

"I am meeting them tomorrow evening at the bar, monsieur. Just encase you were interested…"

Indeed I was. How I wanted to clobber them around their necks and make them pay, and oh, they would…they would pay dearly for what they had done to my angel.

"I shall see you then, monsieur. Don't make me come searching for you... It will be your worst nightmare."

When Raoul was gone, I headed back inside the hotel room to find Gustave still sitting at the piano. With a reassuring nod to myself, I knew what needed to be done.

"Come on, Gustave." I began. "Get dressed. We are taking your mother out."

Christine's POV

I was lying in bed, staring endlessly out the window, when my angel came walking through the door. I knew he was only trying to make me feel better, but how could I feel better when I looked like a monster?

"Christine, ange…" I felt him take a seat at my side, but I didn't dare turn to face him. I felt hideous, I felt ugly…

"You know who you're acting like?" he began.

"No," I shuttered. "Who?" I wasn't really interested, but asked anyway…If it would get him to leave me alone, I would continue answering his questions.

"I remember one time, long ago when you were upset. I believe Carlotta put itching powder in your dress. You felt so embarrassed, so ugly after such an incident."

I buried my head into my pillow, memories of such a day flowing back into my memory.

"How is this supposed to make me feel better?" I cried. "You're not doing a good job of it."

"Well, do you remember what happened after that?"

"Of course." I sighed. "The next day I heard that Carlotta entered her dressing room to find rats scurrying about. It frightened her so much that she refused to enter it again for nearly a week. No one ever found out who did it, but, I always knew it was you."

"I wasn't talking about that, Christine." He said. "I was talking about what happened after you flew to your dressing room in tears."

"And why would I want to talk about this? You're supposed to be making me feel better, and yet, you're making me feel worse. Just go away, Erik."

I felt his hand begin to brush through my curls. I knew I was being miserable to him, but I couldn't help it…I felt miserable.

"Well, in that case," he began. "I'll tell you what happened. You dropped to your knees in your dressing room, and I was there to catch you, opening my mirror and carrying you to my lair. I drew you a warm bath, cooked you dinner…And then, after everything was calm, I sung you a lullaby. It made you feel better, so much that all the pain you were feeling just seemed to slip away. I couldn't have asked for anything better."

Erik's hand paused on my shoulder. I knew he wanted me to turn and face him, but I couldn't…I wouldn't.

"Christine, most men would have laughed at the fact that you had itching powder poured down your dress. But me, I didn't find any of it amusing. Never once had I ever laughed at you, or brought it up to joke about it. You would think after all these years that one could talk about it and laugh, but I never could. I knew that day was one of the most horrible days ever experienced."

"No," I whimpered. "Last week was the worst day of my entire existence."

"Right, and I bet it was, Christine. Even so, what I'm trying to say is that I would never laugh at you, never bring you down so low that you feel the need to shun me away. I'm still here, aren't I? I saw your face the moment I walked into your hospital room. I could have fled right then and there, could have left you to fend for yourself. But I didn't…I brought you here, attempted to feed you, attempted to make you feel better and yet, you're shunning me away."

"This isn't itching powder." I cried. "This isn't something that you can just wash away with a warm bath, and with a story. I'm permanently scarred, Erik. I'm going to look this way until the day I die."

"And so what?" he questioned. "So what, Christine?"

"So what?" I snapped, turning to face him. "Look at me!"

Erik brushed my scarred cheek with the back of his hand, never once taking his eyes off of me.

"I am, Christine. And do you know what I see?"

I shook my head, fighting back tears that wanted to stream down my cheeks.

"I see the most beautiful woman in the entire world. You once told Gustave to look with his heart and not with his eyes. Why can't you do the same for yourself? I understand that one could be upset over their appearance after spending the first half of their life completely flawless. I know that your wounds will take time to heal, Christine, those wounds being the shame in having to look like this. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. But, you are still beautiful. Your heart has always been beautiful, Christine and it always will be. Appearances are nothing."

"I can't go out." I cried. "I'll be gawked at."

"And anyone who gawks will have to answer to me. Most of your scarring is on your chest, love… A blouse will cover that. Christine," he continued to brush my cheek. "You are the most beautiful woman in the entire world, and nothing could ever change that. I love you with all that I am, Gustave loves you with all that he is… Nothing will ever change, no matter how you look. You've come to love me, and that's a lot… You learned to look past my appearance and love me. Angel, I would never shun you away."

"I love you, Erik." I cried. "So, so much…I shall always love you."

"Then please," he begged. "Don't ever think that I would loath you because of what happened. To me, you are life itself. Now come along, get dressed, I have something to show you."

Gustave's POV

I wasn't sure where we were going to be taking mother, but I was glad when she emerged from her bedroom. I wrapped my arms tightly around her, squeezing her body tight. It seemed as though she were happy to see me to, for she smiled and hugged me back.

"Have you been a good boy for your father?"

I looked up at my papa to see him nodding.

"He has been on his utmost perfect behavior." He confessed. "An angel, just like you, Christine."

"Where are we headed then?" my mother questioned.

"Ah, it is a surprise."

My papa interlocked his arm with my mother's and we headed outside. I knew my mother was worried about how the world would see her, but I knew my papa would take care of anyone who even dared to give her an awkward glance. We were, after all, living in Coney Island. I knew my papa wouldn't allow anyone to see my mother as a freak, for even though she was badly scarred, she was still the most beautiful woman on the entire planet. While Mister Y interlocked his arm with my mother's, I clasped my hand around his spare, walking like one happy family towards the train station. I knew where we were headed, I knew that we were going to take a visit to the property Mister Y purchased to have our new home built on. If anything, I was relieved that we were going as a family. Granted, I enjoyed the time I had spent alone with Mister Y, but life just didn't seem complete without my mother in the picture.

My mother nervously glanced both ways every so often, glancing around to make sure than no one was looking at her. When we arrived at the station, we boarded the train, and took a seat in the dining car. Now that my mother was finally up and about, my appetite was coming back to me. I was glad, for I haven't eaten in days. Yes, the occasional sip on a milkshake here or there, but my stomach was a complete mess while my mother was ill.

"It shall be a long ride." My papa began. "Why don't we eat something to pass the time? Get anything you like, my love…"

It was apparent that my papa cared for my mother more than anything in the world. Even as he sat there looking through his menu, his free hand was caressing my mother's. I knew looks didn't matter to him, but my mother, on the other hand, couldn't stop looking around the car. I knew she still felt nervous about her appearance. The truth of it all was that her clothing covered most of the damage. Yes, her cheek was scarred, but her chest was covered by her blouse. I wanted to make my mother feel better, and therefore, I touched her hand to gain her attention.

"You know, mother," I began. "In London a few years ago there was this side show attraction called "The Elephant Man." His name was actually John Merrick and he was a severely deformed man."

"Gustave," my papa warned. "Enough."

But did I ever listen to him? Of course not. No, I wanted to make my mother feel better and I knew the only way was to make her feel beautiful.

"He was born normal, but by the age of two, his head began forming horrible tumors. His arms and feet even began to become misshapen. Which was why he was called "The Elephant Man."

"Gustave, I said enough…"

"He couldn't lie down, he had to sleep sitting up. He had to wear a full head mask along with a cloak that covered his body."

"Gustave!"

When I heard my papa's voice raise to its max, I stopped. I knew if I continued, he would become enraged.

"What I guess I'm trying to say, mother, is that you are beautiful."

My mother smiled and reached across the table to embrace my cheek.

"Thank you, Gustave. Now, where did you hear such a story?"

"Papa has books in his library that tell the tale of certain sideshow freaks. Apparently there are famous freaks in the world."

"I thought I told you to stay out of my private library?" Mister Y questioned.

I shrugged. "I was bored. Though, one thing I can't understand is why you're not in those books?"

"I am not a famous freak."

"I didn't say you were. But, even so, you built an entire park. Shouldn't there be a statue standing in the middle of Phantasma? Everyone knows you, Mister Y. You're very famous around Coney Island."

My papa stayed silent, continuing to look over his menu.

"When I'm the new owner, Mister Y, I'm going to have a statue built in your honor."

My papa smiled from the corner of his mouth. "Is that so?"

I nodded. "You should have a statue, Mister Y. You shouldn't ever be forgotten."

"I doubt that my presence is one to be harnessed forever more, Gustave."

"I think it should."

"If that is what you wish…Now," Mister Y pressed a kiss to my mother's scarred knuckles. "What are we having for dinner? You must be starving, angel?"

My mother nodded. "You have no idea."

"Well, get anything you like, Christine."

As I placed down my menu, I looked up at my papa to notice that he seemed tired. I wasn't sure if he had slept in the past couple of days, but I knew he needed to do it tonight. I knew he had deprived himself of sleep in order to care for my mother.

"Mister Y, you seem tired."

My papa placed down his menu and rubbed his flawless cheek.

"Indeed."

My mother squeezed his hand. "Are you sure you're going t be all right tonight, Erik?"

My papa nodded. "Yes. I shall be all right. We shan't be out long, love. And when we do get back, remind me to ravish you with kisses."

My papa pressed a seductive kiss to her neck, causing me to cringe.

"Ewww…Mama, papa…"

"Ewww?" my papa questioned, raising his brow. "You may say that now, Gustave, but believe me, when you find the woman of your dreams, you will want to ravish her with love and passion every five seconds of the day."

But I could only roll my eyes. "Girls are icky…"

My papa chuckled. "You'll change your mind one day…"

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