Chapter 2 :The Painful Truth

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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." 

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