DECEMBER 1909

ERIK

The weeks that followed seemed to have blurred together. Not only had the boys become even more inseparable, but Madeleine and I had become good friends. It was bound to happen given the amount of time we were spending together while our sons played.

The day I was confronted by that same friend had seemed like just a normal day for us all; the boys were playing out in the snow and I was standing on the porch waiting for Madeleine to come and pick William up. When she arrived, we stood together, giving the boys the usual five extra minutes they always asked for, though nothing could have mentally prepared me for what she was going to say.

"You have some explaining to do," she said, her arms crossed. I knew what she was referring to, but I thought that maybe if I played dumb, she would drop the matter.

"What do I have to explain?" I asked as I tried to be as level as possible with my tone, but no surprise, I was having a panic attack on the inside. I thought I had managed to escape that conversation.

I was mistaken.

"Your stammering and the look of dread when my husband introduced himself," she said, looking at me expectantly.

"Oh that. Look, Maddie, before I explain, I need you to understand that I am so sorry that I dashed out the door like that. It was rude and I hope that Charles will accept my apology," I said.

"I'm sure he will. Now stop stalling and tell me what happened."

"Of course. I started panicking because of the irony of both you and your husband's names oddly enough." A nervous laugh escaped me as I attempted to make it sound like a lighter subject than it actually was for me. "You see, I told you that you have the same name as my mother. Now, the thing that really got to me the other day is that Charles is also the name of my father."

"My goodness. That is quite a one in a million chance, isn't it?" Madeleine said, and I could tell she was beginning to understand my immediate reaction. "Were you close to your parents?"

"My father passed away before I was born. As for my mother, we had, for lack of a better term, an indifferent relationship. I think she saw me as a reminder of my father, who she loved so much, and my facial...condition kept her from wanting to show great affection," I explained.

"That must have been awful, Erik. You know, Charles actually found it quite funny. He's actually trying to come up with a different name for you," Madeleine said with a chuckle.

"Good to know he has a sense of humor." I stifled a laugh and thought of the awkwardness of the next time we would eventually interact. Not a conversation I was looking forward to.

After a moment, Maddie spoke up again on a new topic: "You know, Erik, I still have yet to meet your wife. I was thinking perhaps we could all have dinner together. Even a double date."

My mouth went as dry as a desert. I had yet to come up with a suitable excuse as to why Gustave's mother was never around. I had thought about saying she was at work, but trying to think of an appropriate profession left me at a loss of ideas. That was it; I had to come clean. I knew I couldn't keep up the charade for much longer.

"I'm afraid I haven't been completely honest with you," I began, fumbling over my words. "Please come inside. I'll make some tea and explain myself."

Madeleine frowned a bit, but nodded and got out of her chair to follow me inside. "The boys won't object to extra time to play, I'm sure. We have time to chat," she said.

Once the tea was made and we were properly seated, the inevitable question arrived: "What on earth have you been dishonest about, Erik? I've never seen you be so cryptic," Madeline stated. She looked rather worried about me all of a sudden; I wasn't sure what she was thinking I had lied about, but I didn't think the reality of the situation was what she had in mind

"Madeleine...Gustave's mother passed away about two years ago," I admitted.

A frown appeared on her face, already baffled by the statement. "But Erik, you...you wear a wedding ring," she said, looking at the gold band on my ring finger that I was twisting as we spoke.

"This is my father's ring, actually. Social construct dictates that I am not permitted to be a parent without being married, so this ring casts that illusion. His mother...well, you may have come across her name and her work before, actually. Have you ever heard of Christine Daaé?" I had to be blunt, that much I was aware of. Otherwise, I knew I'd be dancing around it forever without ever answering anything. Her reaction was no less than shocked; her eyes went wide and her jaw went the slightest bit slack. She had obviously heard the name, and I was glad to hear that at least someone outside of France had; my Christine deserved to be remembered, and not only by Gustave and myself.

The silence between us needed to be broken. She obviously wasn't going to be the one to do it, so that it up to me: "Now that is a reaction I have seen before."

She snapped back to a normal facial expression, but the look in her eyes was enough for me to deduce that she wanted me to continue and wasn't going to say anything until I did.

"A gunshot killed her," I began. "You probably read about the incident in a newspaper. I know she was married to the Vicomte de Chagny, but Gustave is my child. When she passed, she left him with me. She never told anyone, not even myself, that Gustave was mine, but for obvious reasons. You understand what that would do to her if she were to come out and admit that she had a child out of wedlock, with someone other than the man that she married on top of that."

"My god, Erik. That's awful. I could never imagine what that has done to you. But...I do have one question if you're comfortable answering it," Maddie said, her face painted with sympathy, though I had hoped she wasn't feeling sorry for me. I did not want her pity, or anyone else's for that matter. I may never recover from the loss, and Gustave may not either, but I didn't want her to feel sorry for us.

"Ask away. It's the least I owe you for lying to you all this time," I said, folding my hands together.

"Not to be rude, but you called her your wife when you mentioned her before. Now you say she was married to the Vicomte. So I suppose my question is, were the two of you ever married?" Maddie queried.

"A natural question, though it unfortunately has quite the confusing explanation. You see, Christine and I were together for what felt like only a single night in the world. But I was not in a position to give her what she needed, which is why I left for the Americas while she stayed in Paris and married the Vicomte." I had to take a moment to breathe before continuing; I hadn't thought I would get so emotional given that that was an abbreviated version of our story, but that was exactly what I found to be happening. "But unknowingly, I had sired a child, and ten years later, Gustave had grown into a fine young boy and the family found themselves in America as well. Christine and I were reunited and she confessed that Gustave was my son. After the tragedy, Gustave chose to stay with me and we attended her funeral in Paris together. Before her passing, Christine had told me that she loved me and would follow me. So yes, I do consider her mine, even if we weren't bonded in marriage."

Madeleine had been listening attentively to the whole story and once I was done, she looked to be at a loss for words. I couldn't blame her for that, as it was quite a lot to process at once. However, every moment she didn't react heightened my anxiety tenfold.

The reaction that eventually came was not one of words, though; instead, she slowly stood up and walked over to me, and the next thing I knew, she was hugging me tightly, almost as a version of silent condolences.

"Thank you for telling me, Erik. Don't hold it against yourself for lying to me; that's a difficult subject to come clean about," she said quietly as she grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'll go get William so we can get home. We'll have you two over for supper very soon."

I managed a small smile and got to my feet. "I appreciate you being so patient about it. I believe I'll hold that lie against myself for a while, though. You are a person that I consider one of my closest friends; lying to you is something I never want to do. Thank you for the dinner invitation, we will certainly take you up on it. I would imagine that your lasagna will be on the menu," I said as I raised my brow and gave her an expectant smirk. "I quite enjoyed it the last time you sent some over."

"Oh, of course. Now that I know you have a favourite food of mine, I will keep it in mind for when you come over," Maddie said. She shot me a wide grin before she gave me another quick hug and followed me to the front door. "Have a good night, Erik."

"You too. Say hello to Charles for me," I replied.

Maddie laughed a little. "Using his real name! We're making progress," she teased as she stepped out onto the porch. "I'm impressed."

"That's what I aim for," I said with a smirk as I watched Gustave say goodbye to his friend before he ran to the porch and gave me a quick hug.

"Do I have to go to bed, Papa?" he asked.

"You do, indeed. You have that presentation tomorrow, don't you?" I asked.

The boy groaned but nodded. "Okay, I'll get to bed. Good night, Papa."

"Good night, my boy," I said as I gave him a quick hair ruffle and followed him inside to send him upstairs to bed. I took a deep breath once I found myself alone, feeling like a massive weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. Lying to a friend was a horrid thing, I had realized. At that moment, I vowed that I would never lie to Madeleine again - or anyone for that matter.

~

Madeleine had only been gone a few moments when Nadir arrived. He had obviously seen her leave and had a suspicious looking smile on his face when he walked in my door, to say the least. Thankfully, Gustave had gone upstairs to get ready for bed when he came in; I couldn't imagine the embarrassment we both would have felt if he had heard what Nadir suggested.

"So that was the new lady friend?" he asked as he slipped his shoes off and walked into the sitting room. I knew him well enough to know that he was going to have himself some fun with that idea; he did seem to enjoy making me as uncomfortable as possible any chance he got.

"She is a lady who is my friend. Nothing more. Her son is a good friend of Gustave, as you well know," I attempted to explain as I sat in the chair across from him, but I could tell that it had gone in one ear and out the other.

"Aw, no, I think you fancy her," Nadir replied.

"Well then, this would be yet another one of the countless incidents where you would be wrong, my friend." I thought that would shut him up, but I only got a raised eyebrow as a response. "You do know that whatever you're about to suggest couldn't possibly be true, right?" I asked.

"If you say so," he said, a cocky grin stuck on his face.

"She is married, Nadir."

"Well, that certainly didn't stop you before."

"You are truly impossible," I scoffed at him.

"You say that as if you aren't," he retorted. It was a fair argument, as I couldn't think of what else to say, so we just ended up laughing together over the ridiculousness of it all.

"I've been rubbing off on you, haven't I, Daroga? Maybe this wouldn't be such an issue if you actually spent time at your own house," I eventually jabbed in reply. I couldn't let him have the last word; that was not how our friendship worked. "Why do you spend so much time here? Could the impossible truly have taken place? Have you become fond of me?"

"First of all, only in your dreams. Secondly, if my company is an issue, I can easily leave right now," Nadir replied.

"I know you could leave at any moment. You made that point quite clear in Paris. But who else is capable of putting up with me?"

"This Madeleine person, perhaps." He was all too quick to come back to where he knew he could get me uncomfortable and tongue-tied which, unfortunately, was exactly what happened; I could practically feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, and, in a weak effort to spare my dignity, I covered the unmasked half of my face.

"I should have seen that coming, shouldn't I?" I muttered.

"You did walk right into it," he replied. He wore a triumphant look that I really needed to wipe off his face. I could have made fun of the fact that he was just as single as me, but thinking two steps ahead, I decided against it. Given that he might have taken it as an opportunity to imply that I wanted a relationship with Madeleine, which was the last thing I needed, I vouched to keep my mouth shut.

"You'll have to excuse me, it seems I'm out of practice in the art of dealing with you," I eventually said. "What do you do when you aren't babysitting myself and Gustave?"

"Well actually, I run my own private security company. How did you think I sustained myself?" Nadir inquired.

"Why else would I be asking? Now I know that old habits do die hard, since you opted to stay in the security business. I thought you may have wanted to branch out considering all the grey hairs I gave you in Persia," I remarked.

"I suppose you have a point. My hair was all one colour when I met you, now look." He ran his hand through his dark hair that had become flecked with grey, sighing as he did.

"I'm sure work keeps you very busy. Do you still read though? I remember you being quite a bookworm when we resided together," I said, trying my best to steer the conversation away from the fact that neither of us were still in the prime of our lives. "That is, when you weren't playing the role of my handler."

"I still live my life as your handler," he replied dryly. To be fair, a valid point.

"I sat down to have a nice chat. Why is that so hard for us to do? You must agree that I am much easier to deal with now than I was then," I pointed out, remembering how much of a disaster I was when Nadir met me. "I was nineteen, a child at best."

"You know why, Erik. I don't need to go down that list," Nadir retorted.

I gave up on the idea of trying to combat that; I knew quite well that he had a substantial list. "Fine then; I'll repeat my question which you so rudely ignored. Any hobbies, Daroga?"

One could practically hear his eyes roll, he did it so hard. "Yes, I still read. I have quite the collection."

"Any recent favourites? I want to start reading more again." It felt like I hadn't picked up a book in ages; one didn't realize how much they love something until they no longer have it. "This one design has had me stumped and it's driving me mad."

"Arabian Nights, actually. I read it last week; incredible writing in my opinion," he replied. He had a look in his eye that told me he wanted to talk more about it, but if I asked further, he'd ruin the whole plot for me.

"Of course," I said with a smirk.

He opened his mouth, probably to give me a snarky reply, but saw something over his shoulder and gave me a smirk in return instead. I turned in my chair and frowned when I saw Gustave standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"Why are you still awake?" I asked him. "I already told you that you should be asleep by now if you are to wake up for school in the morning."

"I'm thirsty. May I please have a glass of water?" he asked, his voice giving way to the fact that he wanted to be asleep just as much as I wanted him to be.

"Of course. Go get one, but then back up to bed with you," I replied. I expected that to be the end of it, but he just stood there, as if waiting for something. "Is there something else that you need?"

"I can't reach the cups," he replied sheepishly, looking at his feet in embarrassment.

A deep sigh escaped me as I remembered that my son had yet to inherit my height, if he would at all - he might take after his mother in that sense. "Dear god, I forgot how short you are," I said.

"I can go get a chair to stand on. Then I can get it on my own," he suggested, his eyes lighting up at the thought.

My brain ran through a million ways that could go wrong and all of them gave me extreme anxiety. He was about to go to the kitchen when I told him, "No, no. Unsafe. I will get the cup and then you can fill it yourself."

"Why do I have to fill it? You'll already have it in your hand," he said.

"Because, my boy, it's called independence. You are more than capable of filling it yourself," I attempted to explain.

He raised his hands in a half hearted surrender. "Fine, fine."

I left and got the cup, then came back to find him sitting in my chair, clearly hoping I'd absentmindedly fill it and he wouldn't have to. "What are you doing? That's my seat, first off, and secondly, don't you have a glass of water to fill? Nice try."

A groan from Gustave was his reaction to his failed scheme. He stood up and trudged over to me to retrieve his cup. "I'm going, I'm going!" he huffed.

With that, I sat down in my chair and had barely picked up my conversation with Nadir when Gustave reappeared between the two of us. "Now what is it? You know you hate waking up in the mornings, and staying up late only makes it worse," I pointed out.

"I wanted a hug before I went upstairs. I finished my water already," he told me with a certain confidence in his voice. "I came down for a drink and a hug because you never gave me a hug goodnight before you sent me up earlier."

"Tsk, tsk Erik. You should know better," Nadir said, clearly trying hard not to laugh as he mockingly scolded me.

"I'll deal with you later," I said with a pointed glare in his direction before I returned my attention to my boy and I couldn't help but smile at him.

"Come here, then." I gave him a tight squeeze, desperately not wanting him to eventually grow up and hating that he wouldn't stay quite so small forever.

Once we let go, he began his walk back up the stairs, evidently satisfied with himself, and he had almost made it when Nadir called to him: "Wait a minute, don't I get one?"

A small laugh came from Gustave before he said, "Sorry Uncle Nadir," then came back over and gave Nadir a quick hug.

"Much better. Now listen to your father. Up to bed now," Nadir said with a smile.

He gave us a brief nod before he said, "Good night Papa, good night Uncle Nadir." With that, he finally made it upstairs and back to bed, leaving me to deal with Nadir.

"You are ridiculous. You know that, right?" I asked.

"I wanted a hug! How else am I supposed to get them? It's not like you hug me," he scoffed at me. He was acting more childish than me for a change, and it made me uncomfortable, to say the least.

"We don't hug because that's not how we work. You know how awkward us hugging is." I knew he knew that; it wasn't new information to him.

"Agreed. So now that you've admitted that, you can't complain when I ask your son - my honorary nephew - for a hug every once in a while," he teased with a tone that was a little too matter-of-fact for my taste.

"You know there's no need to use the term honorary." I confessed to him. "You are the closest thing this boy has to family besides me. You and I are practically brothers. He is your nephew and you are his uncle. End of story."

"I appreciate that, Erik. On that note, how is he doing in school?" he asked, undoubtedly wanting to change the subject.

"Very well, actually. All of his teachers seem to be very happy with him," I said with a nod.

"Wonderful to hear, but what about friends? I pray he didn't inherit your social skills." He smirked at his own joke, clearly pleased with himself.

"Thankfully not. His mother didn't struggle with that as much as I did. He seems to have taken after her." In all honesty, I was extremely grateful for that; I didn't know what I would have done if he took after me in that sense. "He is still very much my son, though. He doesn't like being in large crowds, but he has a few acquaintances and he and William are inseparable."

"Good to hear. Whatever Christine did to him seems to have stuck," Nadir pointed out.

"Thank God for that," I said with a quiet chuckle.

"Hopefully he stays that way," he began with an almost cautionary tone to his voice. "I've been told that the teenage years are difficult for both child and parent"

"Don't remind me. I already dread it and he's only twelve." Once again, I reminisced over my own teen years and how I handled them as I considered how my son's would turn out. "My teenage years were interesting. I found my love of architecture, I also had my first...admiration for a young girl. I wonder what his will be like."

Nadir chuckled at my point of view and said, "Well, the young ladies are inevitable, but his interests are still up for questioning."

"The girls are inevitable, are they? I'd like to hope he has a normal love life - nothing like mine."

"I'm sure he'll be fine. Just have yourself prepared for when he gets his heart broken." Ever the optimist, that man.

The thought of Gustave coming to me for comfort after heartbreak terrified me, I realized. "Never mind him; I don't think I'll be able to handle myself should that happen. We Destler boys seem to be quite emotional over the girls we adore," I said.

"Then only time will tell," Nadir said with a nod.

"Agreed." The thought of him growing up hit me in again. "Why can't he just stay the age he is? I like him like this," I said with a sigh.

Nadir snickered at me. "You complained about his height less than ten minutes ago," he pointed out.

"That doesn't mean I don't love him the way he is. He's so kind and small. You can't blame me for wishing he'd stay that way."

"You can't protect him from the world forever, Erik. You-" he began.

"I've seen the world and its brutality, and I'll be damned if he has to see that too," I said abruptly. I found myself thinking back to all the screams, the cruelty of anyone who saw me; every name I'd ever been called; the people who had been hurt by my existence. There was no way I would let Gustave be hurt by that same world. "I want nothing more than to protect him from that. The world doesn't deserve a soul like his, just like it didn't deserve Christine."

Even with his realization of how serious I'd gotten, Nadir still kept his standing on the matter. "A sheltered life is no life to lead, Erik. You know that," he said softly.

"I just can't lose my little boy," I finally confessed.

Clearly understanding what I was talking about, a calmer expression washed over Nadir's face. "You aren't going to lose him. Eventually he's going to grow into a fine gentleman you can be even more proud of, whether you like it or not."

Once I had properly calmed myself down, I nodded. "This is why I need you around. You know how to knock some sense into me," I said.

"I know that. The real question is why I keep you around," he replied. A small laugh was shared between the two of us; it felt better to laugh given how serious we had just been.

"You love me and you know it," I teased

"Debatable," he scoffed.

I pretended to be shocked, hand over my heart and all. "I'm wounded," I said, making my friend laugh, no doubt at how childish I was behaving. "Oh, come on, Daroga, you know it to be true."

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and said, "Perhaps it has some merit."

"There it is!" I declared as I pointed at him triumphantly. "The truth at last."

He shushed me before scolding me: "Quiet down or you'll wake him."

"Oh, if you knew how good this child is at ignoring what he doesn't want to hear. Like when I tell him to do his homework." The laugh from him that followed was more sarcastic than I had expected.

"I'm sure it's like talking to a wall," he began. "I would have absolutely no idea what that must be like. Especially not with a grown man and his work."

I knew there would be a joke in there somewhere. "You're the one who came in the room where I was working. That's your own fault," I retorted.

"I can't win, can I?" he asked, looking completely exasperated with me.

"Now why would I let that happen?" I inquired.

"I couldn't tell you. On a more entertaining subject - for me at least - I do enjoy hearing about your social endeavours. Did you end up meeting Madeline's husband the other night?"

"I really don't want to talk about that," I admitted, wanting to avoid the query from him as much as I had wanted to dodge it when it came from Maddie.

"Then it must be good." He leaned forward in his chair, obviously enthralled with the idea. "I'm sure it couldn't have been that bad. He's a man, as are you. You two must have gotten along a little," he said.

"To be frank, I panicked," I admitted, praying that saying that would be enough, but of course it wasn't.

"Oh, that never entails anything good." The look on his face made it clear that he wanted more. "Did you get his name?"

"That's actually the reason I panicked."

"Why would you panic over his name? Erik, it's his name!" he exclaimed, clearly shocked, though I wasn't sure why; he'd seen me have moments of hysteria over less reason than that. "Well, what is his name? It has to mean something. I think I'd die if he was a Chagny."

"As would I, but actually, his name is Charles," I explained.

"Oh no, not Charles! An English name for an English man? A true crime indeed. Why would that panic you?" Only then did I realize that I hardly spoke about my father around him so he obviously didn't understand the circumstances.

I couldn't beat around the bush, so I had to blurt it out: "He has the same name as my father, Nadir." With that, an instant silence filled the room as I watched the gears turning in his head while he tried to put the pieces together.

"Madeleine was your mother's name too, was it not?" he eventually asked.

"Now you're catching on," I said as I cracked a smile in an attempt to break the tension.

Thankfully, Nadir had the same idea since a smile spread across his face as well. "I want to laugh, but I feel that would be rude, so I'm trying very hard to be a decent friend at the moment," he professed. "So what did you do?"

"I stuttered and ended up insisting that his name was John." My face instantly dropped into my hands. I didn't need to see his reaction but could hear it nonetheless.

"You didn't!" he managed to get out in between laughs.

"I wish I could say I didn't," I mumbled with my face still in my hands.

He was still laughing like a madman when he said, "Oh, Erik. What did he do? I can only imagine the confusion. Better yet, what did Madeleine do?"

I finally lifted my head to see him; his face was red from laughter, which said a lot considering his darker skin tone. "I got out with Gustave before any questions could be asked," I replied.

Another slightly stifled chuckle escaped him. "You're so awkward, my friend. Now what? You can't just call him John forever."

"You underestimate me," I said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Erik, you'll have to explain it to him. You'll just scare a friend away," Nadir pointed out.

"I'll explain. But I'll still call him John." I smiled at the thought; perhaps I could have some fun with it.

"Well, I'm going to get home before you give me a new name," he said as he got to his feet and started towards the door.

I got up and followed him in order to see him out. "Probably for the best. To be fair, I already call you Daroga enough for it to be considered a second name."

"Even though I'm no longer the Daroga?" he inquired.

"To quote you: 'Old habits die hard.'" I said, making a point of quoting him; it always did annoy him when I brought his words back on him.

The look of annoyance passed quickly, as he probably realized I was doing it to get a reaction out of him and refused to give me that satisfaction. "Alright, alright. Get to bed. You look exhausted,"

"Same to you," I said; the bags under his eyes were clear evidence of that.

"Erik Destler, I mean it. Do not stay up tonight. I can tell you haven't slept well or at all lately," he ordered, using his most serious tone.

"Oh, how frightening. You used my full name as if that holds more power over me. I'm so afraid. Almost as afraid as when you threatened to wring my neck." I couldn't help but chuckle at his pursuit for authority over me. I gave him a hug, ignoring the fact that we had called that exact gesture awkward, and he stepped out into the early night air.

~~~~~

word count - 5347

updated - 09/25/20

i hope you all enjoyed chapter 6! a rollercoaster, i know, but still. i know we had plenty of fun writing it. in the next chapter, you meet a brand new character that we know you'll love.