It had been weeks since Erik had seen life in Christine's eyes. He knew that it had been because of their son's disappearance, but it still came as a shock to see her lifeless. But now, here she sat with their son, alive and bright eyed like her former self. Would she notice how distant he felt as he watched from the sidelines? He wasn't sure how to act as a father with Gustave.

How could hands that had murdered possibly bring comfort to a baby? How could a man such as himself be a father to a child that he wished to walk in the light?

Christine looked up at him, her bright eyes meeting his, "Why are you over there?"

"I'm just letting you have your time with him." Erik replied, his hands grasping the edges of his waist coat.

"We have years of time with him Erik! Come here and welcome your son back." Christine gave him a teasing smile, "You aren't afraid of a little baby are you? I saw less fear in your eyes when a mob was descending on the lair."

"I don't know how to be a father." Erik confessed, taking hesitant steps towards Christine and Gustave. He should feel thankful that their son had been returned to them in such a miraculous way, yet he wasn't. Thankful for Christine's sake, but not for his own.

"You've been a wonderful husband, why would you be less than a father?"

Erik snorted in laughter, his nostril making a strange whistling sound. "I can hardly believe that I have been a wonderful husband. Possessive, vengeful, vain, loathsome-"

"Loving, wonderful, gracious, caring. Erik, you are far too hard on yourself. You should believe better in yourself."

"But I know what is in here," Erik motioned towards his head, "I know what sins I have committed and I find that this world must bring me a sort of purgatory for them. I cannot believe that God would be good enough to let me have both a beautiful, young, and vibrant wife and a healthy little boy without some sort of pain and misery." Erik sat at the edge of the sofa where Christine sat with Gustave, he kept his distance between them. "I am afraid that these hands will bring harm to Gustave like they have brought harm to you."

"And yet, I see no harm done to me. Come here you ridiculous man." Christine narrowed her eyes as her voice turned threatening, "I will not have you acting like this. You must not self-persecute yourself. Erik, if I believe that you will be a great father, then you will be a great father."

Erik sighed, looking at Christine with disbelief. When had his innocent Christine become a demanding woman? She had always had control over him, but now she spoke with such eloquent assertion that it made him love her even more.

"Are you going to cease this now?" Christine asked, motioning for him to move closer to them.

Erik laughed, "I suppose so." He scooted along the sofa, settling beside Christine. He gently wrapped his arm around her waist and looked down at Gustave. He was a beautiful little boy. He looked more like Christine than himself. No beautiful little baby could look like him.

"You should remove your mask."

"And scare Gustave?"

"He is an infant. He will not care. If you raise him to accept your disfigurement, instead of hiding it from him-"

"Christine, you push me too hard."

"You need it."

Erik sighed, reaching behind his head to loosen the knot at the back of his head. The stark white mask was removed, along with the jet black wig he wore to hide the pale blonde hair beneath. Christine offered Gustave to him and he hesitated. "You are going to send me to an early grave."

"He is your son as well." Christine reminded him with a mischievous smile. She felt so alive with her family complete once again. "He needs his father."

Erik took a deep breath and took Gustave into his arms. The baby chuckled and cooed in his hold, scrunching his face and wiggling like any baby would in his father's arms. Erik felt the tightness in his muscles lessen as he rocked Gustave back and forth in his arms, showering the baby with kisses and whispering sweet songs to him.

Christine smiled as she watched Erik come to life with infant in his arms. Though Gustave was not the little baby she had last seen, he was still their tiny little baby in her mind. Her breath caught in her throat as Gustave's little hand landed on Erik's disfigured cheek. Erik tensed, his eyes darting between Gustave and Christine.

Gustave giggled.

It had been the first time that someone had ever willingly touched his disfigurement when Christine kissed him when he had Raoul strung up to the portcullis. Now, his own flesh and blood was touching his face without hiding in fear.

"You see. If you hadn't held him, that wouldn't have happened." Christine whispered, afraid to break the moment. Erik looked up at her with tears in his eyes and she laughed joyfully. "Look at you."

Erik chuckled a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. "He doesn't hide in fear. He doesn't scream in horror."

"He is a baby who loves his father."

"Oh, Christine." Erik rocked Gustave in his arms happily. "I'm a father."

"Yes, you are."

Perhaps being a father wouldn't be as difficult as he thought.

~o~

Jane returned to Meg, having left her several hours ago at the terribly kept Inn that they had to scrounge money for to pay for. She shed her cloak, tossing it onto the rickety chair by the door.

"I returned Gustave to his parents." Jane muttered, seeing Meg lying on the bed with Isobel. "How is my little dear?"

"She was fussy the whole time you were gone, I'm certain that she is tired of all this moving about." Meg bit her lip, "Is this what I'm to expect?"

"What do you mean?"

"Fussy baby? Spitting up? Needing the nappy changed?"

"Meg, what do you mean?" Jane sat down on the edge of the bed and tugging her boots off. When Meg didn't answer she glanced over her shoulder to see her face. Meg was pale as a ghost. "Are you-"

"Yes." Meg bit her lip, sitting up on the bed and cradling Isobel. "I think I am. I'm not certain, but it could be expected. I was going to… I'm not sure how to even approach the subject with my mother at the Opera House. Her ballerina daughter turned Vicomte's whore. Kidnapping babies and roaming across the British Isles."

"I'm sure she'll accept you. You are her daughter. If Isobel ever did anything like that, I would still love her." Jane smiled and offered to take Isobel. "We have done one good deed and I'm certain that God will see you through to another."

"I'm afraid that she will be furious. I mean… she nearly always pushed new patrons on to me. I was charming and welcoming. But I doubt that she'll be alright with it being Raoul. Not after everything that happened."

Jane sighed, looking down at Isobel. "She's a scary resemblance to Raoul."

"I know."

"You could lie." Jane looked up.

"What?"

"Lie to your mother about the father. Say that though you left with Raoul you met a kind young man in Bath. Claim that you had a passionate romance, until he was sent away in a skirmish. Say he was an English soldier. Perhaps he died?"

"That's pure fabrication."

"But she doesn't need to know."

"I'm a terrible liar."

Jane shrugged her shoulders, "It's just a theory."

Meg sat up in the bed, glancing towards the window which gave her a distant view of the rebuilding of the main dome of the Opera Populaire. "It's not even repaired yet. I thought it would be all bright and shiny and new now."

"Everything takes time to heal. Meg, if you are pregnant, I can be here for you. Our children will share a common parent."

~o~

A/N: Well here's my chapter. I'll have you all know you nearly wouldn't have had a post tonight.

I almost died, just merely an hour ago.

I was returning a cart in a parking lot, walking back towards my car. When suddenly the belt on my dress got hooked to a protruding edge of the car I was passing. Hooked, I stopped, fighting with my tie to get myself loose.

As a car sped out of the empty spot mere inches in front of me where I would have been standing. I wouldn't have seen the car as I stepped out in front of the vehicle.

I thank God that my guardian angel managed to snag my attention and hold me back.