It was their first Christmas since returning to France, and their first one without Christine. They didn't discuss it, but Erik and Raoul were both silently dreading it.

 On Christmas Eve, before Gustave went to bed, Erik asked anxiously, "Are you quite sure you're all right, Gustave?"

 Gustave nodded. "Quite fine. Goodnight, Father."

 "Goodnight, son," Erik said slowly.

 Erik waited. He didn't know what exactly he was expecting from his son, but nothing happened. Gustave silently went up the stairs, and Erik breathed a small sigh of relief when the door to his bedroom closed.

 It had been some months since Erik and Gustave first learned of each other's existence, but Erik was still getting to know Gustave. He didn't know what to expect when the boy was about to have his first Christmas without his mother to celebrate with.

 Erik went up the stairs himself, and knocked softly on Raoul's bedroom door.

 "Are you in there?" he asked.

 "Not tonight," was the reply he received.

 "I just...wanted to talk to you. Can't I come in?"

 There was a long pause, before Raoul said, "Just come in, then. I didn't think you would even bother to ask first."

 Erik opened the door to see Raoul sitting by the window. He was barefoot, and his shirt wasn't buttoned up all the way, and there was a liquor bottle in his hand.

 "You know you will have to stop drinking," said Erik. "It's bad for you, and a bad example for Gustave. You know that." 

 "Yes, of course I know that," Raoul snapped. "Now, what do you want?"

 "Gustave seems fine. He hasn't shown any signs of distress."

 "Well, what did you expect? He's a strong boy. He won't let you see that it hurts him Christine is gone."

 "And what of you?" Erik asked. "You have said very little on that matter."

 "What can I say?" Raoul asked with a sigh. "My wife is dead. She loved this time of year. Everywhere I go, everything I see, it all reminds me of her. She had so much love and warmth in her heart."

 Erik nodded. "Yes. I should have known she would love this time of year so much."

 All of this was simply an ugly reminder that Christine was dead. That was how they both saw it. Neither one said it aloud, but they were both thinking it. 

 "It's silly, isn't it?" said Erik. "I was worried about Gustave when....when I should have been worried about myself."

 His voice on the last few words, and he bit back a sob. Raoul put down the bottle, and reached over to gently touch Erik on the arm.

 "I should have been more worried about all three of us, I suppose," he said. "I've been distancing myself too much. I'll do better for Gustave. I promise. For him."

 In the distance, they heard bells ringing, and Erik said, "I believe it's midnight."

 "Well," Raoul said softly, "A Happy Christmas then, Erik."

 "Yes. Happy Christmas, Raoul."