Chapter 2: Gustave Daae

22 December 1863

"What do you mean, you left?!"

"I meant what I said," Louis Mifroid said cooly. His legs were lazily placed on top of his desk, and he was reclining upon his seat. He was idly playing with his hands, face completely frozen and showing no emotion. "I saw the boy you so angrily wanted me to see. He was just as hideous as the flyer described. The conditions were quite inhumane for a young boy. The treatment is pretty bad, but otherwise within the confines of what a legal guardian can technically do to their children."

Gustave narrowed his eyes. "Look here, Lou-"

"That's Monsieur Mifroid for you, monsieur."

"Lou-"

"Monsieur Mifroid."

"Ugh, fine. Monsieur Mifroid, do you really think that the circus has proper custody of the poor child?"

Louis rolled his eyes. "Look, Monsieur Daae, they simply could not have acquired the child without the express permission of the boy's parents. If so, the parents have effectively surrendered the child completely to the circus, and thus they have the authority to treat the child however they want."

"You disgust me," Gustave growled. "What if they happened upon the child? What then?"

"Well," Louis straightened out, now leaning in very close to Gustave. "Then the fault lies on the parents, would it not? Or the nanny. Whoever who left the boy out there is surely the crook if that were the case?"

Gustave got up, flustering red. His dirty blonde hair was disheveled, normally chocolate brown eyes glaring at the still-seated figure of his boss. "That matters very little, Monsieur Mifroid. Why don't you do the same with that nasty scar upon your temple? Is it just a chance that you were born with it? Or perhaps an unfortunate turn of events beyond your damn control?"

He knew he had struck a nerve on Louis. Louis had always been terribly self-conscious of the scar upon his head. He could see the faint vein bulging as the head of the Surete towered over Gustave, who didn't back down despite he only being just four inches shorter. "Listen here, Jimmy Cricket. I do not need you to act as my conscience. Why don't you be a good officer and protect the Parisian citizens from danger?" he said through gritted teeth. "And then go on your merry way and play your violin all night at that theatre."

"Perhaps it would be better if your emotions didn't flatline every once in a while, Louis," he gritted back. "Honestly, it would help if you could just stop being so heartless and see the child the other way!"

"I do not understand what you mean," Louis replied flatly. "For all I'm concerned, that is their child and they have every right to do as they please with him. Now, if you have anything else that you would like to inform me about, I suggest you go back out and patrol the Parisian streets."

Brown glared at green; for minutes, the two stood there, neither one wanting to back down.

"Fine," Gustave resigned, grouchily turning around to leave the office. "Have it your way."

"And Daae," Gustave spun on his heel, feeling annoyed. "I'd better not catch you meddling with the circus's affairs."

"You won't," he muttered under his breath.

xxxx

He had to see the boy for himself. It was not right, he should not ignore the poor child if his help is needed.

Or would he?

Gustave patrolled the evening Paris streets, his mind racing with thoughts. What would his poor wife think? Hannah was already several months into their second child- the first had unfortunately been born stillborn. It broke their hearts, to cradle the child that might've been, had fate not been so cruel. And now, would the same happen if Gustave brought the poor child into their house?

No, I mustn't think that way, he shook his head. We can always try again. Oh Lord, please have mercy on us.

Night fell, and Gustave was back in the office.

"How's it going, Gustave?"

"Nothing much, Henry," he sighed. He replaced his time sheet back to the little pocket upon the wall and turned to face Henry Giry. "I've been feeling under the weather all day. I don't know what's gotten into me, everything seems so grey and downcast today."

"Cheer up, dear old friend," Henry clapped Gustave's shoulders. "It's pretty clear that you have things running in your mind. Is it perhaps Hannah? How is she doing?"

"Hannah? She's doing fine, I think."

"Gustave, look at me. Don't sweat about your child, everything will be fine. It's not uncommon to lose the child on the first couple of attempts. In case you've forgotten, it took me and Antoinette four years for our little Meg to be born."

"Ah yes, little Meg," Gustave rolled his eyes and cracking a smile. "You still can't help put fawn over her even though she has been a hassle for you and Antoinette for the past five months."

"Of course!" Henry beamed. "She is our pride and joy!"

"And she has thoroughly invaded your lives, I almost never see either of you except for the shift changes like today."

"You'll understand when your child is born," Henry laughed. "You'd do the world for the child, even if it kills you!"

"Yes, yes, I suppose so," Gustave said uneasily. Henry had his way on making anyone feel uncomfortable. "I'll just leave you to patrol duties, and I'll go back to Hannah now, okay?"

"Sounds like a solid plan to me!" Henry laughed. "You take care now, alright? Tell Hannah I said hi!"

"Yes, yes," Gustave waved as he left the station.

What am I to do now?

xxxx

"Save the child, of course!"

Gustave could hardly believe his ears. "Are you sure, Hannah? Are you not afraid of the child in the slightest? I don't want you to…" his eyed her swollen belly worriedly.

"Relax, Gustave," she patted his hand sympathetically. "I'm sure I can handle however way this poor child looks. Remember, I used to be the nanny of such a child myself."

"Really?" he met her eyes hopefully. "You've never told me that the child you cared for was… special."

"And why should I?" she pushed some of her chocolate curls from her shoulder, her blue eyes going glassy as her mouth gave way to a lopsided smile. "The child was so sweet in spite of everything that was thrown at him. And intelligent too!" Her eyes widened. "He was such an angel, and yet what the poor child wanted most, I could not give."

"And what is that?"

"Love from his birth mother."

"Oh dear."

"Yes, it was awful. And, well, his mother promptly fired me on the child's third birthday. All because I saved up enough money to buy him a cake."

"That's harsh."

"Indeed it was. And I've just been so wracked with guilt ever since. It has been three years since I'd last seen Erik."

"Erik?" Gustave's eyebrows jumped. He inwardly cursed himself for his reaction. Of course, Erik must be the child's name, right? "That is the child's name?"

"Yes, Erik Mulheim." She narrowed her eyes. "Were you jealous just now? Of a potential lover of mine?"

"Well, I, err… yes." he sputtered. He could feel his face become hot from embarrassment. "But this Erik, err, so he would be about five or so now, right?"

"No, he'd be about nine. But he has always been a small boy."

"And he's deformed… how so? As in a missing limb, or mentally unstable, or-"

"He bears the mark of Death," she said bluntly.

"D-death?" he mildly echoed. "How does that work out, exactly? Are we talking about being skeletally thin, or…"

"Everything. Erik looks like a skeleton from head to toe. His face bears a large resemblance to a skull with eyes."

"Wait, so does he…" he got up from the sofa and frantically rummaged around his pocket. "Look like this?" He showed her the flyer.

Hannah's eyes widened. "Why… why that's… oh!" Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she fainted onto the sofa.

"Hannah! Hannah, are you alright?!" Gustave was frantic. He had only ever seen her faint after their stillborn child… he quickly reached for her neck; he could feel a faint pulse, and he let out a huge sigh in relief.

This poor boy had such an impact on dear Hannah. Gustave got up, brows creased in determination.

I have decided. Sorry, Louis, but this time I will follow my consciousness.