Twisted Every Way(Phantom Of The Opera Fic)

Chapter 7: Choices

"Gustave," Erik smiled one evening, "I'm in dire need of inspiration. A story, If you would. The best one you have to offer."

Gustave grinned, his father had grown kinder in his days on the lake shore, his look of worry had faded, and Mother grew stronger every day. 

"My grandfather used to talk about this angel, this angel of music. He said that when he died it would be with mother to take care of her to teach her. When grandfather died, he did just so,  looked after my mother. She told me such wonderful stories of him. His voice was soft yet with power like thunder. He was lovely and Mother said she loved him more than the stars and music." here his small face frowned.

 "But not more than me," he stressed, "she was clear she never loved him more than me."

Erik gave a small nod and a knowing smile, "Naturally."

"She told me how he never left her side, how he would protect children from bad dreams. She said he was the one who put melodies into heads and made them linger there until they lured you sleep. She said when she died, he'd find me. That he would watch out for me too, help me. Do you think he will? Do you think the kind music man that Mother loved will find me?"

So enduring were his eyes, so full of fear that Erik hardly knew what to say.

He gave a sigh with a shaky breath, she had loved him. All those years, she had loved him and put him into Gustave's life.

She had told their son such loving tales, such forgiving tales. He had captivated her thoughts, held her heart through the weathering storms of time.

There are many powerful things in the universe. Things like love and friendship but above all the strongest is forgiveness. To know he was forgiven elated him into pure euphoria. 

"Yes, Gustave in fact, I think if you listen closely tonight, you just might hear him singing." Erik said softly with a kind smile.

Gustave closed his eyes and played with his teddy bear's ears, "Erik..."

"Yes?"

His eyes opened ever so slightly, seeking out the truth, "You're the man Mother loved, aren't you? The one from the story?"

Erik felt at a loss for words, to tell the truth, would to reveal a part of his past: one Gustave should have no knowledge of. Besides- 

"I really wouldn't know," Erik stated. "You'll have to ask your Mother that question."

After Gustave had been sent to bed Erik turned to his wife.

"Is something bothering you Erik?"

Erik looked close to tears, but none came to his eyes, they had all been shed long before. "Christine, did you really tell Gustave such glorified accounts of your Angel of Music?"

Christine looked from Erik to the small stuffed bear in his hand and felt tears of her own brimming. 

"You've been preparing him his entire life. You were waiting all those years weren't you?" Erik baffled.

Christine put a shaking hand to her lips and nodded, "Erik I knew you couldn't be dead. You couldn't have been, I would have died myself had- But Gustave needed me."

Her eyes raised to her husbands pleadingly, "He needed us."

Erik gave a shaky sigh, for so much wrong, somehow it had all made him right. 

"I only wish I had been there."

"And you will be next time," Christine stated confidently. 

Erik's brow furrowed, "Next time?"

"Well...someday I thought that-" she stopped, analyzing his face as it contorted in fear. Behind the shining white porcelain, she could sense the tension of some unspoken horror. "In the future- Well, Gustave is growing up so fast..." 

"Christine," Erik stated firmly, "You know how I treasure Gustave, I'd put my life to an end for his own, but he is a gift, a chance we took, it was foolish Christine. Foolish! A chance in the treacherous passion of youth."

Christine cowered at his words, anger coiling within her, "He was no chance, Erik. He is here and that is all that matters, I would not have him any other way."

Erik fumbled with his hands, "No, that's not what I meant." 

"Then why do you cower Erik?" Christine prided, "Why does the thought of another person to love you make you wince as if you've been dealt some blow."

"Because we got lucky with Gustave," Erik stated firmly. "Luck that might not be repeated."

"You fear losing it?"

"I fear what hallowed mark thy child might bear," Erik whispered, a chill running down his spine. Christine shrunk back incomprehension, in his eyes was fear, pure and strong, raging like a fire in his soul.

Erik Destler was afraid.

"I have seen the world and it's hate, Christine. My God, let no one else see it."

Christine looked at him intently, he was tall, sparely made, with sandy complexion and a dark gray eye. And eye that was always calling out for mercy, while threatening and fighting for freedom from unspoken captivity.

So this is where his fear lay, this was his aversion. 

Christine sat silently, "Erik I have loved you despite all opinions, and the world is changing. One day, we may all be understood plainly as we are. But Erik, no matter what someone looks like, they can be brought up in love, taught with no prior bias."

"Does that not make the sting more bitter when they leave the protection of home?" Erik snarled, "Imagine the pain I would have felt finding myself lied to, told I was of equal worth and then downtrodden like an animal rather than a man."

Christine looked away in shame. He had thought this through. How many a tortured night had he lay awake contemplating his potential children's fate.

"Very well Erik," she said quietly, "As you wish it."

His tormented eyes softened.

"Christine."

"Yes?"

He could never resist those adoring, pleading eyes. 

"Let not my fear stop you from your happiness."

She put a gentle hand to his cheek, "Let not my yearning cause you fear. Erik, God knows I have put you through enough already. I am content! Do not worry."

Erik gave a small nod, "Say you love me."

She smiled at his childish insecurity.

"Erik?"

"Yes."

Christine pulled him close and gave him a tender kiss, Erik blushing red as their lips met.

"I love you."