Erik's POV

To think, that my angel, my Christine would have died before me! She perished in my arms on the pier, my lips still moist from when she had begged me to kiss her. Even when she was taken away to the hospital, I still believed there to be some hope, some life left within her. I paced the waiting room while Raoul sat there with Gustave in his arms. Yes, the child might have hugged me, but I knew he still wasn't used to me, even though in the end, he would be bound to live with me for the rest of his days. God! What was keeping them so long? My clothes were stained in Christine's blood, my eyes burning from all the tears I had shed. But it was when the doctor emerged from the operating room that my world shattered forevermore. He didn't even have to say a word, for I knew the answer he had come to give. I knew my Christine had died…I knew she was dead the moment she went limp in my arms on the pier.

There was silence, and then, my son's shrieks and cries as the news was officially given. I couldn't bear to stand anymore, for I found myself sinking into one of the chairs, tears streaming down my already stained cheeks. My Christine was dead…she was dead! I sat there for the longest time, sobbing into my hands. There was paperwork that needed to be filled out by Raoul, for even though my angel was gone, that boy was still her husband. Even after all that we've been through over the past few days, he rose from his seat and guided Gustave over to me.

"I…I have papers to fill out," came his somber, yet upset tone of voice. "You should go home for the night."

I nodded and slowly stood to my feet.

"I..I shall come find you tomorrow," Raoul swallowed hard. "We must speak about a few things."

Once more, I only nodded. What was I to say? Even when Raoul walked away, I didn't say anything, even as Gustave stood beside me now. My son, my own flesh and blood. I didn't know the first thing on what to do with a child, and yet, here I was, being forced to learn. Gustave was only as tall as my knee, standing there wiping his eyes that were just as red as my own from crying.

"We should leave," I said. "It's…it's getting late."

My child followed behind me with his head down, a few muffled sobs escaping his lips as we walked on. My home, that was the place I wished to share with my angel and son, and now, it would only be with him. I hardly stayed there, for I was always working. Even when we entered my home, my child did not seem interested in looking around. No, he just stood there in the middle of the doorway with his head down while I worked quickly at straightening up my scattered music sheets and trinkets that were lying about.

"You can come in." I said, motioning my son to me. But Gustave did not move. Instead, he began to sob again. Oh, why was he crying? What was I to do? What could I possibly do to make him stop crying? I myself wanted to cry, for Christine's death was hitting me hard, harder than anything in the entire world. But, for the child's sake, I was being strong.

"Gustave, please," I approached him and attempted to lift him up, but the child fought me. He screamed and ran down the hall. I was left standing there with my arms held out. When I heard the door slam shut, I became enraged, knocking over a stack of books and squeezing my fists.

"How could you leave me!" I growled. "How could you leave me to care for a child? I can't even take care of myself." I left my child and wallowed up the stairs to my bedroom. I slammed the door closed and plopped down on the mattress. Only when I was behind closed doors did I let my tears fall down my cheeks. I sobbed, oh, how I sobbed.

"Oh, Christine, why? Why?"

I buried my face into my hands, removing the porcelain mask and tossing it aside.

"Don't lock yourself away, Erik, Gustave needs his father."

I looked up; that voice! I knew that voice anywhere. It had to be a dream…my angel couldn't be standing here, but she was! She was there, there, standing before me dressed in a white robe, one much like the one she wore years ago on the first night I brought her down to my lair.

"Christine!" I gasped. "You're…you're not alive."

She smiled and oh, how it made my hear leap.

"Then I must be an angel." She giggled and took a seat beside me.

"I need you, Christine. I can't raise a child on my own."

"Of course you can, Erik."

My angel placed her hand on my thigh. It felt real, oh, so real…

"I wouldn't have left him in your care if I didn't believe in you. You can do this."

"The boy won't stop crying." I said. "He ran away from me."

"And you should have gone after him. Go to him, angel. Go to him and comfort his sorrow. Hug him, tell him that everything is going to be all right."

I buried my face into my hands. "And tell him what?"

I lifted my head from my hands only to notice that Christine was gone. Where had she gone?

"Christine?"

When I didn't get an answer, I rose to my feet and placed my mask back on.

"All right, ange…" I said. "I hope you're right."

Like she had told me to do, I wiped my eyes and headed downstairs. My child had ran down the hall, most likely to the spare bedroom. The door was closed and from inside, I heard my child sniffling.

"Gustave?" I knocked on the door, standing there and waiting for him to answer me. When he didn't, I took it upon myself to enter. My child was lying on the guest bed with his face buried in the pillow, his sobs never ceasing for a single moment. He looked do much like my Christine in every way, that it was hard for me not to love him. Yes, I might have only known about his existence for a few days, but the love I felt for him was stronger than anything I have ever felt before. He was all I had left of my angel, and I planned on cherishing him until the day I died.

I took a seat on the bed, watching over his crying form. But what could I say to make him feel better? What could I possibly do to make the situation any less darker? The child just lost his mother, and now, was to live with a man who he just found out was his real father. The situation was bleak on both ends, but I would do anything in my power to show him that I would try to be the best father that I could be. I never knew my father, and to top it all off, my mother hated me. My childhood was filled with darkness and hatred. Children learn to be good fathers by watching their own and I hadn't even a mother's love to copy from. But how would I feel if I were Gustave? What would I want more than anything in the world if I were lying in the same position that he was in? Probably my mother, but that was impossible. No, he would have to settle for me.

"I…I know how you feel," I began. "I know that you miss her. I miss her too."

When my child didn't answer me, I reached out my hand and placed it onto his back. His cries ceased if only for a few moments. What made me even happier was when I heard him speak.

"M…mother always tucked me in at night." He sniffled. "Mother always read me a bedtime story and calmed my fears when I had a nightmare."

Finally, the boy sat up, his eyes red from crying. He was still crying now, even as he sat beside me.

"What am I going to do, now?"

If there was anything I didn't want, it was to make the child think that I would be his mother's replacement. Yes, he was my son and I, his father, but the truth of it all was that I was nothing more than a stranger. He had only known the truth a few hours, and for any child to find out that I was their father would be frightened beyond words.

"Your mother was a wonderful person, Gustave." I assured. "But even though she is gone from this life, does not mean that she is gone forever."

I placed my hand against the center of my son's chest, his heartbeat fluttering against my palm.

"She's in here. She will live in both of us."

"Mother said that when someone dies, they become a star. Is that true?"

"Yes, Gustave."

"Then mother must be the brightest star in the sky."

"I have no doubt about it, Gustave."

And then, without asking, my child crawled into my lap and wrapped his arms around me. How strange it was having this boy in my lap and feeling his arms around me. Who knew one night of passion between my angel and I could have created this beautiful child that I was holding now.

"Gustave, never think for a second that I'm here to replace your mother. I would never want to take away what the both of you had with one another. But, if you would like it, I could do some of the things she used to do. If you would like to be tucked in at night, I would be willing to do it…A story? I could weave you a wonderful tale. You know, I used to tell your mother bedtime stories when she couldn't sleep."

My child didn't say anything, just laid there with his head buried in my shoulder.

"Is this my new home?" he finally asked.

"I…If you would like it to be. I would never force anything on you, Gustave. But if you would be patient with me, I'm sure you would come to like it here."

My son broke away to wipe his eyes.

"My things are at the Phantasma Hotel."

"And we will go and get them in the morning, I promise."

With that, I stood and turned to lie my child down.

"It's late and you've had a rough day, Gustave. I believe that you should go to sleep now."

"Mister Y," my son whimpered. "Do you think that I will forget mother?"

"Why would you forget her?"

"What she looks like? Do you think that I will begin to forget?"

I left my child for the slightest of seconds to go into the other room. Throughout my apartment, I had at least five or six framed pictures of my angel. They were mostly from old theater programs I had snatched over the years, but there was one my angel had given to me as a gift. It was a picture of her during her first night as the leading lady. I picked it up from my piano and carried the trinket back to my child's room.

"Here," I placed the framed picture down on his night table. "Now you can look at your mother anytime you wish."

"She's beautiful." My son replied as he laid there looking at the old photo.

"The most beautiful woman I have ever seen, Gustave."

I pulled the blankets over his body and smiled at the framed photo.

"You know, when your grandfather passed away, he promised your mother the angel of music. He came to her when she was sobbing over your grandfather. The angel of music washed away her sorrows and filled her with joy."

"Mother didn't promise me an angel."

"No, but perhaps you shall be sent one, Gustave, one that will help you through these dark hours. Talk to your mother, Gustave. She may be gone, but she can still hear you from heaven."

With that, I stood and headed towards the door.

"I hope you sleep well tonight. If you should need me, my quarters are up the stairs."

And when my son closed his eyes, I made my way out the door, ready to close it behind me.

"Mother always left the door cracked."

"How's that?" I asked, leaving a slight opening in the doorway.

"Good."

"Goodnight, Gustave."

"Goodnight." He whimpered.

I knew my child was going to have a rough time getting used to me, but I would do everything in my power to make him happy.

"You did well."

I was just unbuttoning my shirt after entering my bedroom when I heard my angel's voice again. And just like clockwork, there she was, standing beside my bed watching me. I must have been hallucinating, for this couldn't be real.

"I did my best." I replied, changing into my nightshirt.

"And what you said was true."

"About what?"

"That I would always be listening to Gustave from heaven. He just said his prayers, ange."

I threw on my robe and took a seat at my desk, waiting for this illusion to slip away. I simply picked up my pen and began to write, hoping that the voices would stop.

"You are ignoring me."

"Simply because you are not real."

"Don't you believe in angels?"

"I used to believe they were real, up until your death a few hours ago."

"Am I not one now?"

"No, you're not." I growled. "You are not transparent, nor are you glowing."

"You're referring to ghosts." She chuckled. "I am not a ghost."

"Then where are your wings?"

From behind me, I felt someone place their hands upon my shoulders, only to glance behind and see Christine standing before me.

"Did you have wings when you came to me?"

"No, I didn't."

"And I don't recall ever questioning you about half the things you're questioning me about."

"Then why are you here?" I turned back to my work, rubbing my temple and hoping that she would disappear.

"Ange, I've never left. Gustave just said his prayers and he prayed that I would send him an angel to look over the both of you. I'm here, Erik. I will guide you through everything, my love."

"I don't believe it."

"All you have to do, Erik, is speak to me."

I turned around to confront my angel once more, but she was gone.

"Oh, I need to sleep."

I ran my fingers through my wisps of graying hair and crawled into my coffin shaped bed. Yes, there was still room for my Christine, but that dream would never be, for she was gone. As hard as it was for me to just close my eyes and pretend that everything was normal, I found myself sobbing again, sobbing over my angel and my loss. Yes, I had gained a child, but in the end I had gained something I knew nothing about. Caring for a boy wasn't like caring for a pet. I couldn't just leave food and water lying about and expect everything to be fine. He would need constant attention, attention and love.

I was a businessman, one that was always on the move. Could I possibly have the child on the move with me? Spending countless hours in Phantasma with me? Such things made me worry… I couldn't sleep that night. Not that I sleep most nights to begin with. I was always one who needed no more than four hours of sleep at a time. It was Phantasma that made me that way…Some nights, I would had so much paperwork to complete, that I stayed awake until the wee hours of the following morning. When my grandfather clock downstairs rang in the early hour of four, I rose to my feet and decided to shower. Luckily, my bathroom was connected to my bedroom, making it easier to stay quiet.

After washing my face out with my special medicated wash and showering, I dressed and took a seat at my desk once more. I wanted Gustave to sleep as much as possible, therefore, I decided to work on my music scores. Not that I would ever be able to write another aria. No, my music would never soar to greatness again, for Christine was my voice. From now on, my music was destined to be nothing more than carousel jingles.

Around five, the sun began to rise. Today would be another busy day in Phantasma, one of the final days of the season. Soon, the weather would change from warm to cold and the leaves would soon show their autumn colors. School would be starting soon, and if my child was going to stay, I would have to enroll him into one, the best! There were plenty of schools in the area that would be good for him. It would be healthy for Gustave to make some friends and put aside the tragedy that had taken place. I wanted to give my son a normal life, and therefore, I would do just that…He would get nothing but the best.

This was an idea that I came to my mind. I'm already working on three stories, so, I will try to update as much as possible, but no promises. Please review...