Vincent has a niece studying in Rome and she has a tiny tot with her. Tito Enteng was like, "what do you mean the Pope can't babysit his great-niece, bring her over, your Tito Thomas and I can take care of her."
Obviously, our favorite Dean has no problem being voluntold for babysitting services.
So basically all the madres and the padres dote on our little babbu, she is nearly always either with Tito Enteng or Tito Thomas, until everyone's favorite Italyanong Kapre comes to visit.
Goffredo Tedesco is big and he's loud and he smells funny because of the vape and it doesn't help that our little girl KNOWS what a kapre is because the Filos have kept her up to date on her folklore, which is her birthright.
(At three, she already knows Tito Pope Enteng would protect her from kapres and aswangs and other things that go bump in the night. Tito Thomas would do the same.)
But when she first meets Cardinal Tedesco, she's just with Tito Aldo and she hides her face in his neck and cries for her two main uncles.
That being said, the baby tears break Tedesco's heart, because he actually has a soft spot for kids the size of Europe.
So he tones it down, calls her bambina and dolce angelo and all sorts of Italian pet names for little girls. With some assurance from her favorite uncles, the little girl learns that "Padre 'Fredo" is NOT actually a kapre at all, but just another priest like them.
(Even if he causes Tito Aldo's blood pressure to rise on a daily basis.)
Eventually Tedesco and "Sua Santita's little bambina" do become friends.
The fun part is when this little girl starts speaking Italian with a perfect Viennese accent.
Tito Fredo is so proud.
(This is a polyglot bebe in the making, she'll grow up to have Tagalog, Bicol/Bisaya, English, Italian and Latin as her languages.)
Also, every time she's around her Tito Fredo (upgraded!) and Tito Aldo, a certain Secretary of State is slowly, but surely, feeling that "pesteng yawa of my life" is turning into a legitimate endearment!
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His Holiness, Pope Innocent XIV, is generally very sweet natured and kind, as most Filipinos are.
Also, he's not a pushover by any stretch of the imagination.
(The Swiss Guards have stories to tell about their charge, if anyone ever cared to ask. It was just a relief to know that their Pope had the ability to fight, if it came right down to it.
God willing and with them at their posts, it never would.)
A good shepherd does not hesitate to defend his flock after all.
So. The first person to ever get the full name treatment was Cardinal Goffredo Alejandro Giulio Tedesco.
Who actually did realize he was making an ass of himself and humbly asked His Holiness' pardon. Which was graciously given.
(Somehow, Tedesco ended up becoming fiercely loyal to this Pope from Southeast Asia but that's a story for another day.)
Cardinal Aldo Giovanni Stefano Bellini was the next person to get the full name treatment, albeit it was in a somewhat more humorous situation. One does not expect a cardinal to ever use the phrase "pesteng yawa of my life" to describe a brother cardinal but THAT happened.
Cardinal Bellini's expression when Cardinal Tedesco opined that said phrase sounded suspiciously like a Filipino endearment was enough penance, His Holiness decided.
Thomas Jacopo Lomeli Lawrence - this was, in fact, delivered in that familiar and welcome tone of loving exasperation that a certain Dean had come to expect from his "dear Vincent."
(Even if neither of them had really sat down and had any sort of discussion over what was rapidly becoming a genuine Situationship.)
Therefore, his instinctive answer was, "All right, love, whatever it is, we shall sort it out forthwith."
Oh welp. It was only fair after all the times Vincent referred to him as "mahal" right?
I've always wondered how the story would work out if a young Christine Daae meets Erik as the Opera Ghost, NOT as the Angel of Music.
This is a kid who's grown up on fairy tales. She should know that the first rule is always to be kind. Kindness and courtesy and respect can be a surprisingly effective defense against the scariest creatures. Christine is all of these things by nature, except when curiousity gets the better of her.
But that's for a different story and in a different universe. Over here, Christine gets to meet the infamous Phantom of the Opera as a young girl, just beginning to leave her childhood behind, just still enough of a child to believe.
So maybe when she accidentally runs into a tall, dark, forbidding figure with his elegant gentleman's clothes and opera cloak and white mask, she doesn't scream or run or faint.
Maybe she drops him a cute little curtsy, wobbling a little because unlike her best friend Meg, she's not a born ballerina. Maybe she warbles a little greeting, "Good day to you, Monsieur Opera Ghost."
And maybe that's how it starts.
Erik makes friends with this adorable little girl who doesn't scream at the sight of him. He's utterly charmed by her and she's the first person, in a good long while, who gets to learrn that the Opera Ghost isn't really a ghost.
He gives her his name.
(Ironically, Le Fantôme forgets what the old tales speak of when it comes to the giving of names.)
Maybe the two of them end up making mischief together, the Phantom and his petite fantôme, pulling off ingenious pranks and silly, harmless tricks. Maybe Christine starts adding to the ever growing store of Opera Ghost tales, with all these gloriously lurid details that she manages to relay with an absolutely straight face.
Erik, in his usual hiding places in the Opera House, is hard set not to give the game away by helplessly chortling at his petite fantôme's imagination. At one point, one storytelling session is broken up by the little ballet and chorus girls screaming in delighted terror because Erik couldn't stop himself from laughing.
(He had to throw his voice for that, so he wouldn't give away where he was hiding.)
Christine grows up, of course, and Erik doesn't develop the weird crazed obssessiveness that grew out of a desperate love - this is not that universe. For him, she's his dear petite fantôme - a friend, who, against all odds, isn't going to be ripped away from him through some tragic twist of fate.
(He has so very few of them, you see. Sometimes, he's not even sure if THEY think of him as a friend. Opera ghosts can't be choosers, though.)
Things start changing, maybe, when Christine is nineteen and she's starting to dream about being more than just singing in the chorus. Erik is only too delighted to have nurtured the development of her original sweet childish treble to the glorious instrument that it was now. They've often sung together, the two of them - her high sweet ethereal voice chasing after his own resonant tones, blending in harmony.
(One of their favorite pranks was to sing haunting melodies in a near-empty theater, simultaneously scaring the life out of the skeleton crew working at night.)
Some things are meant to happen, no matter what the universe, and Christine Daae steps in as an unlikely substitute for the temperamental La Carlotta. She brings Paris to its feet with her rendition of Elissa in Hannibal.
Christine gets asked, of course, how on earth did she suddenly bring out That Voice,
She only smiles. "I was taught, of course, by my Angel of Music. Who else?" Mischief and mystery are dancing in those blue eyes.
There's a funny little lurch in Erik's heart at the way she says "my Angel of Music."
Thomas Lawrence makes the acquaintance of his Pope's three nieces in the first few days of the latter's Papacy.
"My tres Marias," Vincent tells him, clearly proud of the three lovely young women who had each greeted their uncle with a delighted "Tito Enteng!" together with exuberant hugs and kisses. To Thomas' amusement, he could clearly tell the moment they all abruptly remembered to comport themselves more decorously, gently taking Vincent's hand and pressing it to their foreheads. Vincent blessed them, eyes bright, before drawing them all back in for more hugs.
Thomas would learn very quickly that:
"Tito Enteng" was actually Tagalog for "Uncle Vincent."
He was of the personal opinion that "Enteng" was an adorable nickname, not only because of the glorious blush that spread across his dear Vincent's cheeks when he attempted to say it.
(Thomas had no idea what this meant, obviously, but one of the nieces grinned and said, "Uy, kinilig ako dun, ha?"
Vincent blushed even redder and shushed her.)
The gesture of taking an elder's hand and pressing it to one's forehead was called "mano po" - a Filipino sign of respect. He was surprised and touched when all three girls decided to include him and ask for his blessing too.
Cat (Caitlin Marie), Ikay (Erika Mary Ranielle) and Klay (Maria Clara) would be a constant presence in the Papal apartments, visiting whenever they could, at their own Uncle's insistence. Cat and Ikay were scholars studying in Rome while Klay was a nurse at the Gemelli Hospital. Eventually, Thomas would learn that Vincent had ended up being more of a father figure to the three cousins than their actual biological fathers were, which explained their closeness. They were each, in their own way, strong and formidable young women.
What Thomas did not expect, however, was how he would end up getting adopted by all three of them as an honorary uncle.
Not that he had any objections.
Cat
"You want to learn how to speak Tagalog."
Thomas could literally feel the heat creeping its way across his cheeks and all the way to his ears, but he did his best to keep an even expression. It was a difficult job, given that those big brown eyes had that clear, penetrating look to them that was uncannily like Vincent's, but he thought he managed.
"Yes, well, consider it good practice for your eventual... hm... professorship?"
Blink. "You could ask Uncle Vincent."
He clears his throat. "Yes, well, hm, the Holy Father is rather busy. And - "
"He tends to give you this Look and outright refuses to translate?" Cat compresses her lips together, clearly trying not to laugh. "Because he's a mischievous little shit?"
"Caitlin Marie!"
"Before he was the Pope, he was our Tito Enteng and to be quite frank, he's very surumbot when the mood takes him," Caitlin tells him, with all the authority of being the eldest of her generation. "That means he likes to tease. There you go, Tito Thomas, your first Filipino word." She grinned and added, "That's also only something he likes to do to the people he loves best."
Thomas couldn't stop the smile stealing across his face. "Don't go telling secrets out of school, dear girl."
She snorts. "Yet here you are asking me to teach you Tagalog." She shakes her head. "Okay, so what Tagalog words has he used around you? I know you've taken note - you're like our live version of JRR Tolkien."
"That's very flattering - I've always thought I would make a fine hobbit too." Thomas takes a moment to think. "Mahal is the word he uses most often around me, and I'm fairly sure he's not referring to Tolkien and his dwarves."
Thomas hadn't meant to do that, but he had clearly caught Cat off guard, as she had promptly choked on her coffee. "Oh dear. Are you quite all right?"
Cat had turned a rather endearing shade of pink. "Mahal? Really? Context, please?"
"Er...well, as in: mahal, you really need to eat something? Like he's decided that it's my name now, not that I mind, terribly."
"Tanginang yan." Cat slaps a hand over her lips. "Sorry. Swearing. Bless me Father for I have sinned and all that. Also, yes, you do need to eat more, Tito Thomas, honestly."
Thomas heroically chooses to ignore that last jab. "Sometimes he says 'mahal ko'."
Cat made an odd, squeaking sound, but this had to be a good thing, Thomas decided, as her eyes were sparkling with amusement and delight.
"Okay! Okay! Absolutely, I am totally teaching you Tagalog. We'll make a Pinoy outta you yet, Tito Thomas."
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The only thing saving this situation, Cardinal Aldo Bellini decided, was that apparently, the rest of the world was lowkey shipping the two idiots in question.
(God bless and help them.)
Yes, he's probably earned a few extra decades of the rosary as a penance for that, but, really, could the good Lord blame him?
Personally, he would not put it past Himself/Herself to be up to some serious mischief, drawing out this story with Their legendary crooked lines.
Monsignor Ray had already created a group chat which included Vincent's Vatican household and the gaggle of nieces and nephews back in the Philippines. Aldo was somewhere between being awed and aghast at how rapidly the gossip was being shared.
(Also, with much the same mix of feelings, he also found himself easily picking up on the Filipino slang, which amused his friends but also thoroughly bewildered the rest, such as a certain Patriarch from Venice.)
For today's video (Q.E.D., God save him), they were in the cafeteria, ostensibly on a working lunch. They were all swamped by various kinds of paperwork - homilies, emails, forms etc. - and it was with some amusement that Aldo watched Vincent pull along a surprisingly compliant Thomas: "Mahal, you need to eat something - you haven't had breakfast today."
And Thomas' absent-minded response, eyes still on his notebook (they would get him to use a tablet, eventually): "Yes, dearest."
Look, Aldo Maria Niccolo Giovanni Bellini knew good and goddamn well what Thomas Lawrence's middle names were (a nod to his Italian heritage, even if the British half was annoyingly dominant most of the time) and mahal was certainly not one of them. This was not the first time Vincent and Thomas apparently forgot they had an audience, which included several of the Filipino clergy turning pink/red and hiding delighted chortles behind their hands.
The last time this had happened, Aldo's "favorite" of his brothers in Christ had nudged him and muttered, "Aldino, what is this new name of Tommasino's from His Holiness eh? Is it like the way you call me, what is that, pesteng yawa?"
Aldo had just turned away from the currently strawberry-scented Patriarch of Venice (that stupid vape) just to quietly find the nearest pillar to gently bump his head against.
I blame a Certain Fic that recently updated on AO3 where one idiot Thomas Lawrence decides to catch a bullet for his dearest Vincent.
(Vincent is going to have Words with his mahal, lots of Words, preferably after he kisses his Decano stupid.)
But here they are, in the hospital, stuck in that endless purgatory of waiting whether his beloved Dean survives or not. He's still got bloodstains on his white cassock and he can't be convinced to go back to the papal apartments.
He knows it's foolish, but he's somehow sure that if he steps out of the hospital, the next thing he will hear is that his dearest Thomas is gone.
So he can't.
He won't.
He's on his third round of the rosary, the Glorious Mysteries, when he feels the gentlest touch on his shoulder.
"Tito Enteng."
It's his dear Klay, one of his darling tres Marias. He didn't know his niece was one of the attending nurses.
"He's going to be okay, Tito Enteng."
He engulfs her in a hug and she comforts him as he cries, tears of relief, murmuring assurances that of course, of course, she would look after Tito Thomas, don't worry, Tito Enteng, he's family right?
Yes, Vincent agrees, smiling through his tears, take care of your Tito Thomas for me.
