𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝘼𝙧𝙚 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝘼𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 | 𝙋𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙢 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙊𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙖

i. Starting the Journey Home

"Where are we going, Papa?" Gustave asked quietly, struggling to carry his large, heavy suitcase.

"We are starting our journey home, Gustave," Erik replied, looking back to his son with a small smile. "I can take your case for you if it's too heavy."

Gustave nodded, eager to be rid of it. "Where is home exactly?"

"That would be Paris," Erik said, hoisting the suitcase off the ground with a quiet groan. "What is in this? It probably weighs more than you do!"

"Mother packed it," Gustave sighed. "I'm not sure exactly what she put in there."

"Every single thing you've ever owned, it seems. My god." Erik shook his head and continued walking towards the nearby pier. "Anyhow. As much as I hate to leave all my work behind, America is no home for either of us, is it?"

Gustave shook his head. "I don't really think anywhere is truly home for me now...not without Mother."

Erik sighed before he stopped walking and set the suitcases down, then kneeled down in front of his son. "I know, Gustave, but we're going to try and make the best of our situation. I miss her too, but you and I are going to do just fine. Alright?"

"Okay," Gustave nodded tearfully. It seemed so absurd to think that just days ago, he'd had both a mother and a father. Now he was stuck with this man he hardly knew, who his mother had admitted was his real father. Though anyone, he figured, was a step up from Raoul, no matter who they were.

Erik hesitated for a moment, but slowly lifted his hand to Gustave's face to wipe a stray tear away. "I know it's a little strange, your situation, and I understand if you're uncomfortable. I'll try my best to make this easy for you," he said quietly.

"It's not your fault," Gustave sighed, wrapping his arms around his father. "I know it's hard for you too."

There was even more hesitation before Erik could get himself to hug the boy back. "It is, yes, but you're my priority now. I'll be okay."

"It's okay to not be," Gustave said softly. "That's what Mother always told me. She said that you don't always have to be strong."

Erik nodded as he pulled away. "Your mother was a wise woman," he said, smoothing down his son's hair before he got to his feet. "Thank you, Gustave. Now, we have to go or we'll miss our boat."

"Alright," Gustave nodded, following Erik onto the large ship.

After a few quick words with the captain, Erik managed to find the cabin that would be their home for the duration of the trip. "Small, but it will do."

"I think it's nice," Gustave said with a little smile. "There's only one bed, though."

Erik sighed. "That there is. Well, I can manage with some pillows on the floor. You can take the bed," he nodded.

"I mean...it's a big bed," Gustave shrugged. "We could just keep to our own sides."

"If you're alright with that, then we could share the bed."

"I don't mind," Gustave said with another little shrug.

"Okay then. We'll share," Erik said with a small smile. "The trip should go quickly, as we'll hopefully sleep most of the time."

"I hope so. I hate spending so long at sea," Gustave sighed.

Erik smiled. "No one enjoys it, but it has to happen until someone comes up with a faster method of travel," he said as he picked up his suitcase and started unpacking some of his clothes.

"I remember Raoul mentioning something about two men named Orville and Wilbur Wright who invented some kind of flying craft. He said it didn't seem safe, though."

"No, not at all. On that, him and I can agree."

"I think, on that, we're all agreed. It's probably just a fad, anyway," Gustave shrugged, taking a book out of his suitcase. "People are fickle. They'll be onto the next thing like white on rice."

Erik smirked. "Very true," he said with a little laugh as he put his clothes into the small chest of drawers. "What are you reading?"

"A Midsummer Night's Dream. It was Mother's favorite Shakespeare story," Gustave replied with a smile.

"Yes, it was. She used to read that quite a bit when we...when we knew each other in Paris," Erik replied with a fond smile.

Gustave nodded. "She read it to me a lot when I was younger."

"I'm sure you enjoyed it. It's quite the magical story. Definitely one that would appeal to the wild imagination of a little one."

"Yes, it certainly is," Gustave smiled. "I'm going to miss her reading it to me. She used to always give Puck a funny voice."

"Well, Puck needs a funny voice! There isn't a point in reading it if you don't give him one," Erik said with a smile.

"That's precisely what she told me."

"Great minds think alike, I suppose." Erik was surprised to find that his way of thinking, when it came to his son, was looking to be much like Christine's. He didn't quite know how, but he knew it would come in handy with raising Gustave.

Gustave let out a quiet yawn, his eyelids growing heavy. "What shall we do now? Go walk around the ship?"

Erik smiled. "You look like you want to sleep," he pointed out.

"Only a little," Gustave lied with a small shrug.

"Gustave, your eyes are practically closed." Erik took the book out of his son's hands and set it on the nearby bedside table. "You should rest. I'll be right here."

"Okay," Gustave nodded, falling asleep nearly the second his head touched the pillow.

Erik smiled. "That's what I thought," he said softly, pulling the bedsheets over the boy and brushing the hair from his face. Sitting on the bed next to him, Erik picked up A Midsummer Night's Dream for himself, needing an escape from the busy reality he found himself facing.

~ 

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