Gustave's POV

The following morning, when I awoke, I crawled out of bed and headed towards the stairs.

"Mister Y?"

I walked up each stair and knocked on his bedroom door like I usually did. Usually, he would answer the door, but today, I was left standing there waiting.

"Mister Y, are you awake?"

Once more I knocked, but when I didn't get a reply, I entered. The room was still in darkness and Mister Y was still beneath the blankets of his bed. I crawled in beside him, lightly shaking his shoulder.

"Mister Y?"

When he didn't budge, I began to worry. What made me worry even more, was that his breathing was labored.

"Mister Y?" I continued shaking his arm. "Please wake up…"

Tears were welling up in my eyes as I continued to attempt to wake him. I placed the palm of my hand against his sweaty forehead, only to notice that he was extremely hot. I didn't know what to do, but I knew I needed to do something.

"Mister Y…" I shook him harder, hoping to get a reaction out of him, but I got nothing. Quickly, I hopped off the bed and ran out of Mister Y's home. I never ran so fast in my entire life. I ran all the way to Phantasma, looking for anyone that could help. The first person I came across was Mister Squelch. I quickened my pace, hurrying to his side and tugging at his pant leg.

"Mister Squelch!"

He looked down at my side and smiled.

"Ah, the young master…You're in a hurry today."

"Mister Squelch, my papa…he won't wake!"

Mister Squlech stopped and looked down at me, his smile faded and changed to one filled with concern.

"What's wrong?"

"My papa won't wake…" tears were filling my eyes, but I stayed strong, for I needed to get him help.

Mister Squelch dropped whatever he was doing and grabbed my hand, pulling me in the opposite direction.

"Come on, master…"

He pulled me along until we reached a building. Mister Squelch approached the front desk and explained what I had told him to the woman that was sitting there. A few moments later, an older man dressed in a white coat appeared with a small bag in hand. I assumed that he was a doctor, but I wasn't sure. Mister Squelch then knelt down at my height.

"Young master, I have to get back to work now, but that man is a doctor. Take him to Mister Y…"

I didn't waste any time and hurried out the door with the doctor, rushing back to Mister Y's home. Once inside, I opened Mister Y's bedroom door and led the doctor inside.

"My papa won't wake." I cried. "He's breathing weird too."

The doctor approached him and placed on his stethoscope. As soon as he saw Mister Y's face, he gasped and took a step back.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I've never seen Mister Y without his mask."

"He needs help!" I cried. "Please…"

The doctor nodded and approached Mister Y again, placing the end of his stethoscope inside of his shirt.

"Is he all right?" I frantically asked.

"Is he allergic to anything?" he asked as he continued listening to his insides.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know…Is he going to be all right!"

"I need to examine him." He said. "Step outside…I'll be out as soon as I find out what's wrong with Mister Y."

I exited the room, keeping the door cracked in order to keep an eye on the doctor. I was never so worried in my entire life. If I lost Mister Y, I would be an orphan. No…I couldn't be an orphan! Mister Y was fine just last night…Why was he sick now? I paced the floor, my heart racing from inside my chest. A few moments later, the doctor emerged with his things, looking me in the eye.

"Where is your mother?" he asked.

"My mother?" I questioned. Yes, I could have told him the truth, but if he knew my mother was dead, I could be in trouble. He could send me away…tear Mister Y and I apart. No, I had to lie.

"She's out…" I said. "I woke this morning and found my papa like that. Why?"

"The reason being, is because someone has to administer Mister Y's medicine twice a day. He has an infection in his face."

"An infection?" I questioned.

He nodded. "Yes, he has a horrible infection. It's most likely from keeping his mask on while out working in the heat. With a lot of fluids and medicine, he should be all right in a few days."

"I'll tell my mother." I said. "Thank you."

When the doctor left, I locked the door and hurried back into Mister Y's bedroom to find him still breathing heavily from beneath the blankets. Yes, I was scared, but at least he would live. While he slept, I hurried to the kitchen and climbed atop of the counter to start breakfast. Yes, I might have only been ten years old, but my mother did teach me how to make scrambled eggs. After getting the ingredients down, I pushed a chair over to the stove and stood up on it to start breakfast. My papa needed me and I would do anything to make him feel better. As the stove started, I cracked the eggs, placing them into the frying pan. Yes, a few shells got into the eggs, but I didn't care. I didn't need my mother…Yes, I missed her, but I could take care of my papa.

When the eggs were finished cooking, I placed them on a plate and squeezed some oranges into a glass to produce some fresh juice for Mister Y. Afterwards, I carried the plate and glass into Mister Y's bedroom and placed them on the night table.

"Mister Y…" I shook his shoulder, but still, he didn't budge. Therefore, I crept out of the room to wash the dishes. It didn't matter, for the food would be there when he woke…

Erik's POV

My body felt weak…my body felt strange. I could hardly breathe and my face was pounding in agony. When I opened my eyes, I smelled something strange…My eyes turned to the night table, where there was a plate of scrambled eggs sitting there with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. My breathing was labored, so labored that I felt as though I were breathing through a straw. I pressed my eyes closed and felt something cool being placed up against my forehead.

"Angel…"

I opened my eyes, only to see Christine standing there at my bedside dabbing a cool cloth against my head.

"Ch…Christine…"

"Rest, angel…"

I pressed my head against my pillow, sighing as the breath left my throat with a heavy wheeze.

"You're ill, ange…"

"What?"

"You have an infection in your face. Gustave ran for help…He's so grown up, Erik. Our little boy…"

I sighed and closed my eyes again.

"You need to be strong, angel… You need to make it through this, for the sake of our boy."

A few moments later, I felt a small hand resting against my forehead, only to open my eyes and see Gustave standing at the side of my bed. He seemed concerned, but as soon as he seen me lying awake, he half smiled.

"Mister Y, I was so worried."

I pressed my eyes closed once more and laid there as he dabbed a cool cloth against my forehead.

"I made you breakfast, Mister Y."

As hard as it was to keep my eyes open, I sat up and leaned against my pillows as my son held a forkful of eggs up to my lips. Yes, I wasn't hungry, but I knew I needed to eat in order to gain back my strength. In past summers, I had gotten horrible infections from the heat and sweat meshing with my cheek, but never one as horrible as this.

"I'll take care of you, Mister Y." my child promised. "I'll get you back to your old self again."

After taking a few sips of the orange juice, my son crawled into bed beside me.

"Did you make all of this?" I asked.

Gustave nodded. "Mother taught me how to make eggs. The doctor said that you needed to gain your strength back. Did you like the juice, Mister Y?"

"Yes," I murmured. "It was good."

"Mother taught me how to do that as well."

"You're just a very talented boy, aren't you?"

I smiled and snuggled my head back into my pillow.

"Mister Y?" my son laid his head down beside my own, his fingers tracing my cheek.

"Yes, Gustave?"

"Promise me that you'll never leave me alone."

"Gustave, I would never leave you."

"I got scared…I couldn't wake you this morning, Mister Y. You wouldn't wake. I began thinking that you would leave me to be with mother. That you would leave me to be an orphan."

"Never, Gustave." I said. "I would never leave you alone…"

"Promise?"

I nodded and ran my fingers through his dark locks. "Never, Gustave."

My child sighed and placed his head against my shoulder. "I'm glad."

"What else did your mother teach you?"

"Everything. I miss her, Mister Y…Some nights I pray to her, pray that she comes back to us. She never says anything though. Do you talk to mother, Mister Y?"

"Every night, Gustave. I talk to your mother every second of everyday."

"And does she talk to you?"

"Of course. Your mother is always here, Gustave." I placed my hand against his chest, feeling the beating of his heart. "She's in here."

"I miss her still."

"And I miss her too, Gustave."

My Gustave let me rest for the remainder of the day, leaving me be in order to gain back my strength. That evening I wanted to get on my feet in order to make dinner, but I couldn't, for I was too weak. Deciding to stay in bed, I rolled over and pressed my aching flesh into my pillow. A few hours later, my child came walking in dressed in his pajamas. In his hand, he held a book and crawled in bed beside me.

"Mister Y, do you want me to read you a bedtime story?"

"No, Gustave." I said, closing my eyes. "I wish to sleep."

"You slept all day, Mister Y…Which reminds me." My son reached over on the night table and brought back a medicine vial. "The doctor said you need to take two of these."

He placed the two capsules in my hand and held a glass of water up to my lips. After swallowing the pills, I laid back down and pulled the blankets over my body.

"Are you cold, Mister Y?" Gustave asked.

I nodded. "A little."

Faster than lightning, my child dashed out of my room and down the stairs, coming back with two of his blankets in hand.

"Here, Mister Y."

He draped the blankets over my body, the warmth making me feel ten times better.

"What about you, Gustave?"

"I don't need them. You need them more than I do."

And as I closed my eyes, I felt my child snuggling down beside me.

"Mister Y, could I sleep with you tonight?"

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to leave you alone."

I faced my child, brushing my fingers through his locks of dark hair. I fell asleep beside him that night, warm at last and feeling better with my child beside me.

Gustave's POV

I took over for my papa the next morning since he couldn't get up. His fever had broken a little, but he was still breathing heavily. Deciding to let him sleep, I rose from my side and hurried downstairs. I missed my mother more than anything in the world, but Mister Y needed me now. Usually, mother would most likely be doing all the chores, therefore, I decided to take over. While Mister Y slept, I went into his office and organized his things and dusted off his book shelf. I wanted to help my papa as much as I possibly could, therefore, I took my mother's place. As I was cleaning up, I thought about what I could do in order to make Mister Y feel a little better? Sometimes when I had a fever back home, mother would bring me ice cream. It not only made me feel ten times better, but it also lowered my fever. But what flavor could I get him? My favorite was vanilla ice cream with sprinkles and chocolate fudge… Mister Y and I were father and son, therefore, he most likely loved the same thing.

Erik's POV

Oh, how I wanted to tear off my face just to feel some sort of relief from this agony I was in. I woke the following morning, feeling the same agony I had been feeling the night before. My distortion throbbed with a dull, burning ache, leaving me weak and exhausted. Though, this morning not only was my distortion bothering me, but my exposed skull was throbbing now as well. Who would have thought that sweat could cause an open area of flesh to become infected. I was usually so good with keeping my face clean too. Every night I showered and washed out each crevice with a special soap…Then again, I wasn't usually out in the heat as much as I had been since Gustave's arrival. It didn't matter, for summer was coming to an end, and then, the dreaded chill of winter would be arriving. If there was one thing I hated more than the heat, it was winter's chill. Yes, when I lived in Paris beneath the opera house, I had become accustomed to the cold chill and dark draft that surrounded my lair, but ten years of living in sunlight had ruined me. I had lived my entire life beneath the opera house, always ignoring the cold. Ten years away from it made me realize how much it could bother me when I wasn't constantly surrounded by its bitterness.

Some winters, I have so much shoveling to do, that I'm left with no choice but to bear it for unspeakable hours. Oh, a fire never felt so wonderful after being out in its wet weather for hours on end. The cold has not only begun to bother me, but it has also caused my limbs to ache. If my knees bothered me once during the day, they bothered me ten times. Weather was not my friend, for it has caused me nothing but problems. Infections in my face during the summer, and phenomena in the winter. The dreaded disease was killing thousands each winter and yet, I had survived the illness twice! How does one do such a thing? One was lucky to get through it once, let alone twice. But, it is my fault, after all…I sometimes lose track of how many hours of shoveling I do in one sitting. The doctors warned me time and time again about making sure that I get inside to warm up once an hour, but my work is never finished. Sometimes, I would start out in the middle of the night if needed. Freshly fallen snow was much easier to shovel than snow that has sat overnight and froze to the ground. Smart, was what I was, but stupid when it came to thinking about my health. Oh well, it was still summer, for I could feel the unbearable heat lurking in through my cracked window. Unbearable heat, and here I was, still shivering from beneath my blankets. A fever was a horrible thing…

"Mister Y, I brought you something."

My wonderful boy came walking into my bedroom with a small cup in hand. What time was it anyway? I wasn't sure, for I was too exhausted to care. Yes, the sun was shining and I could hear the shrieks echoing from Phantasma, but I was still blind of the time of day.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, crawling on top of my bed.

"Ill."

"Well, I thought about making you breakfast." He began. "But I'm sure you wouldn't want eggs twice, so I decided to get you something different."

When he placed the small cup down in front of me, I noticed that it was vanilla ice cream with sprinkles on top. Usually, I didn't eat ice cream, but when I did, which was hardly ever, this was the exact flavor I got. How did he know? I never told him this…

"I wasn't sure what flavor to get you," he continued. "But back home, this was always my favorite, so, I thought that maybe it would be yours too."

"And that it is."

Oh, when my son held the spoonful of the cold ice cream up to my lips, it felt like heaven. When I swallowed it, the substance cooled my insides, giving me a sigh of relief from this unbearable fever. Usually, I never ate, but this made me feel all too good.

"Mother used to give me ice cream when I wasn't feeling well." Gustave stated. "It always cheered me up."

"Thank you, Gustave. It should be me cooking you meals and getting you ice cream…"

"You're sick, Mister Y. I'll take care of you. If mother were here right now, she'd be doing the same thing."

"I wish she were here." I said. "I miss everything about her."

Gustave smiled. "Me too, Mister Y. I miss her stories."

"I miss her smile, her kiss, her laugh…I miss her hand caressing my cheek."

"Mister Y?"

I looked up at my child to find him licking the spoon that came with the ice cream.

"Yes, Gustave?"

"When you get better, do you think you and I could spend the day together?"

"We do spend lots of time together."

"I mean go for a picnic? Mother used to take me on them all the time."

I nodded. "Yes, Gustave, a picnic would be nice."

Awwwww Gustave is adorable. Got my copy of LND today and felt like uploading this adorable chapter. Please review. Oh, and for ANON. To answer your question about how I published a book, I actually did it through a website called "Createspace" It's Amazon's publisher. You download the template to the size you want your book to be, and paste the story into it. From there, you upload it in PDF form and the site gives you a ISBN label. It also sells your book on amazon sites throughout the world. Hope this helps...Good Luck!