Chapter Text
Erik pushed the door to their home open and stepped inside, immediately relaxing when he heard the sounds of his small family bustling around. He was in the process of hanging up his coat on the hook by the door, when he heard his son run toward him. Erik caught the small boy with one arm and swiftly lifted him onto his hip. “Papa!” Gustave cheered, arms wrapped around his father’s neck.
The little boy was five years old and completely enamored by his father. Everyday that passed he seemed to possess different traits and qualities that had clearly come from Erik. “Hello, my treasure.” Erik said, pressing a kiss to Gustave’s head and then setting the boy back down so he could greet his wife. He pressed a chaste kiss to Christine’s lips as she lifted the mask off his face and set the piece of porcelain on the side table.
For a while now, Christine had practically banned him from wearing his mask when they were in the comfort of their home. The mask caused chafing upon his ruined cheek, and Christine simply would not allow himself to keep hurting himself for what he thought was her own sake.
When Gustave was born, Erik was terrified that the child would fear him because of his face, but Christine had helped him work through those fears and they proved to be useless because the little boy, since he was a baby, had always adored his father.
“Papa?” Gustave asked from where he had returned to the floor to play with his toys. Erik hummed in curiosity as he sunk to floor to sit beside his son. “Why do you wear your mask when you leave but not here?” He asked, the question momentarily taking him aback. He supposed for a boy as young and innocent as Gustave it made sense to truly not see a difference between his father and the rest of the world.
“The rest of the world does not have as much love in their hearts as you and your mother.” Erik said placing his hand on top of Gustave’s head as he watched his son play with his toys. Gustave seemed to ponder the answer he was given and then turned his head up to look at his father.
Gustave raised a hand and stroked Erik’s cheek, being ever so gentle as to not hurt him. And even thought this was not the first time the boy had had shown interest in the scarring and open tissue on his father’s face, Erik was still shocked anytime his two angels looked at him with so much adoration. “Are people mean to you?” He asked.
”In my life, people have been very cruel to me because of my face. To anyone else my face can be quite scary.” Erik explained and Gustave seemed to find this funny as he laughed and crawled into Erik’s lap.
“You’re not scary, Papa!” He exclaimed, as Erik wrapped his arms around his son, holding the boy close to him.
Sometimes it shocked Erik how the boy had never even blinked an eye in disgust at his face. “Well, you’re used to my face. There was never a moment where you didn’t know my face. Even when you were born, your mother wouldn’t let me hold you until my mask was off.” Erik told him and the little boy laughed, turning to Christine, who had taken a seat on the sofa. She simply nodded to confirm the statement. “Society hates the unknown, my treasure. My face is something different and it’s simply not accepted outside these walls.” Erik watched as Gustave’s face seem to fall.
“I’m sorry that people are mean to you, Papa.” He said, snuggling even closer to his father.
“You’ve nothing to be sorry for, my treasure. You and your mother have shown me enough love in recent years to make up for all the hatred the rest of the world has shown me.” He promised.
Christine placed a comforting hand in his shoulder, and then pressed her lips to the top of his head. “And we always will, my love.”