Short chapter, I know. I'm hoping to continue this because I like its premise, and I need to write something that gets someplace, for once! Anyway, here is a long overdue chapter two.

"Quand je marche dans la rue

La rue vers le Sacré-Cœur

Je me souviens des promesses

Au nom de l'amour…"

The soft voice of someone singing slowly awoke Gustave from his slumber. The small child rubbed his eyes, yawning. Where am I? He thought tentatively, squinting up at the figure above him. Whoever was holding him sung like an angel, his soft voice threatening to lull him back to sleep. Gustave yawned, and the singing stopped.

"Ah, little Vicomte," the man said, turning his head slightly as to be able to gaze down at him. "It seems you have awoken."

Gustave blinked away the rest of the sleepiness, examining this newcomer. This man was quite tall, and wore a porcelain half-mask upon his face. I wonder why, he thought to himself, and smiled a bit. "Yeah," he replied. "I did."

The small boy then paused, tilting his head. "Why'd you stop singing? You're good." Gustave pouted a little bit. "I wish I could sing that well."

The masked man chuckled. "It's nothing a little practice can't fix. I could teach you, I suppose. Would you like that?"

Gustave was about to reply with a hearty 'yes!' when he recalled his mother's words. "Don't talk to strangers!"

"Um," he glanced down at his fingers. "I dunno, Mother is probably worried about me by now- maybe I should go back."

The man's smile faltered, although Gustave hadn't realized the masked newcomer had even been smiling. "I'm afraid that cannot happen," he began. "Your mother wanted me to take care of you while she practices for her concert."

Gustave didn't catch the lie, instead nodding. "Oh," was all he said. "Then I guess you can teach me to sing!"

The masked man looked down warmly at the boy. "Indeed I can." He set Gustave down, taking the child by the hand. "Just follow me, we're close to my home, and after a cup of tea, we can begin."

XXxxXX

"Gustave?" Raoul's voice echoed from down the street, where he, Christine and a few others, were searching. The sky was dark, the damp night air causing Christine's hair to stick to her face. "It's gonna rain," a man to her right said, glancing over at her. Christine gulped, looking around. "I-I need to keep searching, I won't stop until I find Gustave!" God knows what has happened to him while he is in HIS clutches.

A soft hand landed to rest on her shoulder, and she whirled around to face a very nervous Raoul. Taking deep breaths to calm her shaky self, she met Raoul's eyes. "Yes?" her voice quivered. Raoul gave her a sympathetic look, pulling her in for a stiff, uncomfortable hug.

"I know you're worried sick about Gustave, but dear, it's quite late. We won't gain any ground now, we should leave the officers to finding him for now. We can keep searching in the morning, alright?"

Christine extracted herself from the embrace, placing her hands on his chest and pushing away. A loud crack of thunder shook her from her thoughts. For a moment she seemed like she was about to argue, but as rain began to fall, heavy and wet, she decided otherwise. At least with the former Phantom she knew for sure that he would be relatively safe, but it was crucial she rescued her son as soon as possible.

"Alright," she sounded small and frightened, and Raoul wrapped an arm around her. "Shh now, it'll be fine."

"Right."

Christine looked away from his worried gaze. There's no reason Raoul would be worried, she thought bitterly. It's not as if he ever truly cared for Gustave. How is it that now, when he is missing, that he finally shows an ounce of affection?

The realization stung, but it was the truth. Christine shrugged away his arm, stalking ahead of him. He would sleep elsewhere.

XXxxXX

Gustave sat beside him on the piano bench, tapping anxiously on the wood seat beneath him. "You can play!" he exclaimed, bewildered and amazed. The masked man gave him an amused glance. "Indeed I do, little Vicomte. I assume your mother taught you to play?" he motioned to the piano keys, and Gustave gave one an experimental press. "Yeah, how did you know?"

The masked man only smiled, but said nothing more. Taking this an invitation to play, Gustave began to play, his little fingers dancing along the ivory keys. He didn't glance up, and missed the fleeting look of surprise on the older man's face.

"Well," he whispered after a long moment, watching the young boy play like an expert. "You certainly can play."

And he would have watched him play forever, if not noticing the way Gustave began to slouch, and his eyes began to droop, and close. Soon enough, the child had leaned into the older man's arm, fast asleep. The former Phantom let out a soft sigh, picking up the slumbering boy in his arms. He made his way across the flat, opening the door with his free hand and setting Gustave down onto the bed in the guest room, taking off his shoes and pulling the sheets up to his chin.

He moved to close the door, but paused, glancing back at Gustave's sleeping form. "Goodnight, little Vicomte," he whispered, and then silently shut the door.

XXxxXX

Elsewhere…

Gripping his hat and pulling it down and wrapping his cloak tightly around his dark form, the man sighed. Nadir had known that the ship would take weeks to arrive, but he hadn't expected it to be so boring.

Nevermind that, he had better things to worry about.

Like, how he was going to absolutely flay Erik when he arrived. His knuckles tightened on the railing before him. Had the fool even paid heed to one of his warnings? Considering their current situation, it seemed as if no, he had not.

"Monsieur?" one of the crewmen glanced around, approaching the lone man. "Dinner is being served in the mess hall, if you are hungry."

"I'm not," he replied, shaking his head. Glancing back to see the crewman's worried expression, he issued an apology. "I didn't mean to come off as rude," he assured. "I'm just feeling troubled at the moment."

Nadir paused, letting go of the railing, and turning to face the other man. "Actually, could you get me a few bottles of beer? I feel like I might need it."

The man nodded, racing off. Nadir turned to face the water again, sighing and cupping his face with his hands. "Oh, Erik," he exhaled. "What am I to do with you?"

If someone could give me more things to call Erik other than 'masked man' until I use his real name, that would be nice. I'm rather unoriginal.

Also,

NADIR

The song I used in the beginning of the chapter is Sacred Heart by The Civil Wars, by the way.