𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝘼𝙧𝙚 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝘼𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 | 𝙋𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙢 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙊𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙖

iii. Miss Daaé Has Returned

"Papa?" Gustave asked from outside Erik's bedroom door. "Are you ready to go?"

Erik took a deep breath as he straightened his jacket in the mirror. In all truthfulness, he was nowhere near ready to go. He had forced himself to get out of bed that morning. Every step he took throughout the day was difficult because he didn't want to think about having to watch Christine be buried. Still, his answer to his son didn't reflect any of that. "Just about. One moment, Gustave."

"Okay," Gustave nodded. "I'll wait."

Erik took one last look in the mirror, surprised that he could bring himself to do that at this point in time, before he slipped his ring back onto his little finger and went over to the door to open it.

"Don't you look handsome," he said to his son.

"Thanks," Gustave sighed, studying his shoes. "Can we get this over with, please?"

With the crook of his finger, Erik tipped his son's face up so their eyes met. "It's going to be alright, my boy."

"I hope so," Gustave nodded. "Come on. We should leave."

"Okay. Let's get going." Erik walked downstairs, Gustave following close behind him, and opened the front door, stepping up and looking back into the house to see the boy practically dragging his feet. "Gustave, come on."

"I know, I know," the boy sighed, reluctantly picking up his pace a bit.

"Hang on." Erik placed his hand on Gustave's shoulder to prevent him from speeding past. "Look at me."

Gustave stopped and looked up at his father. "Yes, Papa?"

"What's going through your mind? I can practically see the little gears turning in there," Erik said softly.

"I just don't want to see Mother be buried. That's all," Gustave replied simply.

Erik nodded. "I understand. Just try to keep your chin up, alright? You'll get through this," he assured.

Gustave nodded. "Okay, Papa."

Erik bent down in front of his son and took his face in his hands. "We'll do it together," he promised.

Gustave wrapped his arms around his father's neck. "Thank you, Papa."

"Of course." Erik gave his son a tight hug, rubbing his back. "Now, we really do have to go. I do not want to be late by any means."

"Alright," Gustave nodded, taking his father by the hand and walking with him to the carriage.

The ride didn't take long, as the church where the funeral service was to be held wasn't too far from their home, but the silence between the father and son duo made it seem endless. Neither of them quite knew what to say, as they feared that their emotions would bubble over with any word that the other said. Erik kept his eyes on Gustave, though, making sure he was holding up alright the entire ride.

Once they arrived at their destination, they were greeted by the last person either of them wanted to see - Raoul. "Hello, gentleman," he nodded. "How are the both of you holding up?"

"Just fine, Monsieur," Erik replied quickly, almost instinctively pushing Gustave behind him.

"Well, I suppose we should get on with this rather unpleasant event," Raoul sighed. "There are seats reserved in the front."

The service was nice and well delivered. The minister was a seasoned speaker, which put Erik a bit at ease. Everything was civil and just as it should have been.