Gustave had seen the anger Erik held against Raoul, how it had burned inside of him.

He hadn't realized it before, but as the stranger of a man carried him protectively back to his room he knew that an anger wasn't logically to be feared, it could just as easily be as strong as love. Emotions ran deep for Erik, through no fault of his own.

Was it possible his father loved him almost as much as mother had?

True or not, for that kindness and protection he was grateful. Still, such intensity of emotion, such anger, frightened him more than he was willing to admit. 

"We will have much more time for composing" Erik smiled as Gustave begged drowsily again for more time.

Erik wished for more time. More time to fix his wrongs, borrowed time for his Christine to awaken and heal.

Setting Gustave down, he found himself gently pulling his shoes off and setting them beside the bed. Slowly he pulled the covers over. Erik looked at the orphaned boy beside him. True, to be orphaned both parents had to be dead, but what is a parent you don't know, a life you have no ability to change. 

He reprimanded himself. Christine wasn't dead...yet.

But an unknown parent, a stranger, wasn't a father. The young Vicomte seemed marooned in a way, trapped from everything and everything he had once held as fact. 

True, Gustave looked on him kindly, with compassion and concern, love hopefully could grow in time. 

He had departed and was going to see Christine when the small voice came from the bed.

"Aren't you going to come in?" Gustave asked slowly, "its alright if you don't. Father-" he looked around in confusion then rephrased his words, "Raoul never tucked me in."

The name Raoul was clumsy on his tongue, strange and heavy. Father fit, and yet felt wrong.  Erik gave a small smile and entered the doorframe.

"Well, I'm not Raoul." He reasoned. Gustave gave a look at the handsome figure in front of him, He didn't ever smell of alcohol, didn't snap or curse. Didn't make mother look sad and tired.

"Before I go to sleep," Gustave yawned, "Could you please bring me, Erik?"

The Phantom looked around in confusion, "Erik?"

Gustave pointed to his small bag, "he's in there." Unsure of what he would find Erik made his way cautiously to the suitcase.

"He's my teddy bear." Gustave smiled through tears. "Mother gave him to me one night after father had been crosser than usual."

Erik felt tears of his own brimming. The teddy bear, worn and frayed and one button of an eye and the other sewed shut. Gustave reached out for his treasured possession and Erik gave it to him gently.

"The other kids teased because we didn't have the money to buy a new bear. But mother said that what he looked like didn't matter if I loved him, he was mine."

Erik looked at Gustave mesmerized. "She said that?"

Gustave gave a small nod, "she said nobody could take away Erik. Not even father if he tried."

Erik felt...well he wasn't quite sure, grief but happiness, pain but joy.

Finally, he choked out a response "And your mother choose his name?"

Gustave nodded, "She said that she had someone she loved who was hurt and broken too, but he was worth it."

Gustave gave a shaky sigh. "I miss my mother." 

Erik hugged the boy close to his chest and cried openly. The two fell silent in each other's arms.

-------------

Erik was deep in sleep for the first time since Christine's injury. Days he had endured now, watching her frail white complexion shuddered and moan. Too ghostly, too silent for the light and vivacity he knew she held within her.

In a vivid shame of a dream he envisioned himself threatening her on the first night she came. Threatening to take Gustave, to take him away forever. What had been thinking, to take that precious child, what cruelty had possessed him?

At around Nine, Erik rose from his place and traveled to Christine's room. The Doctor, the best money could by lay asleep on the floorboards, face twisted in exhausted worry.

He sunk to his knees, her small hand he placed slowly into his.

How had he let this happen?

He had set his head down, holding her hand to his cheek and crying softly.

"Erik?"

"Christine?" He said frantically looking up.

Her face was emotionless, filled with exhaustion but her eyes met his and a smile faintly curved at her lips.

Joy overcame all tears and he kissed her forehead gingerly, "My god. You're safe, Gustaves safe. Your fears are far behind you."

Christine's brow furrowed in thought, "Erik...what happened?"

He shook his head and rose, sitting beside her, his hand on her cheek. "All in due time. Heal first, let the pain come later."

Christine gave a pained laugh, "I haven't been bedridden since Raoul-"

Erik watched as a bit of memory flooded back to her.

His heart raged with anger, but he wouldn't let my temper get the better of him. He had lost her before to less.

"He's gone. Once you're recovered I can send for him if you so desire."

"No!" Christine almost shouted. She had attempted to sit up but the intense pain in her side forced her downwards once more. 

"Erik I never want to see him again." Her eyes were full of desperation.

After a moments silence, Erik asked, "How badly did he hurt you?"

Her heart seemed to rip in two. 

"Never with force Erik." She started, "Never think of him that low. But in neglect, and in hate and unreasonableness-"

She shook her head and turned away, tears stinging her eyes. "I could have borne it, I did-For Gustave. But he needs love and kindness and a soft guiding hand. Raoul had none to borrow." 

Erik shook his head angrily, poor Christine how could Raoul do this, let alone touch that perfect child. She should have left, she should have gotten away.

"But to where Erik?" His mind reasoned, "You left her. You left them."

Guilt overcame his senses and turning crimson red he rose to leave the room.

"Erik!" Christine cried desperately. 

 "What?" he said briskly.

 "No," he thought "I must be better than Raoul."

 "What is it," Erik asked quietly.

 "If I tell you- you won't love me," she cried. 

Once again he sat down beside her. "Christine now that you are here with me there is absolutely nothing that could stop me from loving you." 

She hesitated, fear written plainly across her face.

"Gustave, his temperament, his talents. They're sensitive Erik."

How nice it was to hear her say his name.

"Erik, he musn't see me like this. But you must learn to deal with him. Promise me no harm will come of him." 

Erik gave a sad smile and nodded, "You know well what I am capable of as protector as well as a hunter."

"Erik." she said with a shudder, "Sometimes, he's so much like you- it- it scares me."

He felt the pain of her words but recognized their truth. Looking away in shame, he felt it would had been better if he had died long ago, freeing both their lives of the strife he brought.

However, no sooner had these thoughts entered Eriks mind that he felt Christine's gentle hand apon his own, her bright eyes looking at him in a peculiar way he had never seen before.

Hesitantly turning back, he leaned forward only to find she did not recoil or shudder.

Lovingly placing a kiss to her forehead, Erik embraced her for the first time since that dreaded dock.

She held his hand firmly, but on opening his eyes, he found once again she had drifted into the exhaustion of sleep.

"Christine why do you slip away again? " he whispered to himself. 

The risk was too high of his deformity being passed on. He never had even dared to dream of a child, let alone anyone who loved him. 

But still.

A child deserved a proper home, and Erik intended to give Gustave one. No matter the cost. If it was home Gustave craved, to France they would go. 

As soon as Christine was well enough, Erik would begin amends. 

They would be a proper family now. 

He was determined to make it so.