Author's note:

I just want to apologize in advance for the inevitable suckiness of this chapter. I got my wisdom teeth out this weekend and my mouth has hurt sooo much today. :/ What you read I will have written while on pain meds… sorry.

Oh, and I realized too late that I forgot to put a disclaimer on Clarie's lullaby yesterday. It wasn't original, I used a portion of a lullaby I found online. It is called "Child of moonlight". I thought it went nicely with the story :).

Disclaimer:

If I owned Phantom of the Opera it would have turned out way worse.

Erik's POV:

Furious didn't even begin to cover the emotion Erik was feeling. His masked face couldn't seem to figure out what color to become to properly display his feelings. Not that it mattered what color his face was anyway, as he stormed through the dimly lit passageways of the long-abandoned halls only he knew about.

What was the cause of his anger? It-or she-was the very thing that he had never suspected could be capable of angering him.

Christine Daaé. Just thinking of the girl's name made him grow angry all over again. He glared ahead and his hand tightened on the lantern he carried.

After all I did for you.

Christine! That little traitor! Did she think he would not see the way she looked at the viscount? That she could go off to dinner with him without as much as a second thought of her angel?

I gave you your voice! I am the reason for your success!

Rage welled up inside of Erik. His eyes were no longer reliable, as he could not concentrate on the passage in front of him. He had to stop, almost throwing the lantern in the process.

I gave you your voice…

Erik had to bite down on his hand to stop himself from screaming in rage. He found himself wishing that he had brought his Punjab lasso with him. Perhaps if Christine saw her precious dandy of a man hanging from the ceiling, she would think twice before betraying him again.

But Erik knew in his heart that this plan, satisfying though it might be, would never be effective. He would never be able to trust Christine after tonight's performance.

You will curse this day, Mademoiselle.

Promptly deciding to deal with the traitor at a later date, Erik tried to put his mind on something more pleasant.

Mademoiselle Clarie was excellent this evening.

She was excellent, but still Erik found little pleasure in this fact. He couldn't even remember why he had been so fascinated with her earlier that day. How could she be of any use to him? She played violin; she couldn't—

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice.

"You are my child of moonlight."

It was a lullaby, Erik realized. He jumped to his feet, listening for the source of the song. He had never heard a voice like it before. It was angelic, and perhaps the saddest he could remember hearing.

"You call the angels down."

Erik found the source, and pulled at a curtain, revealing a mirror.

Or a double-sided mirror, to be exact. There were many of them in the rooms of the opera house, thus how he was able to communicate with Christine without revealing his face.

So now, as he lifted the curtain from its place, he saw the singer. And he was surprised. It was the violinist, more specifically, it was Clarie.

She was sunk down on her knees, still in the blue dress she had worn during the opera that night. Curly black hair fell in front of entrancing blue-green eyes. In front of her sat an old looking music box, from which music was coming.

"There is a peace within my heart," she was singing, "whenever you're around."

The music box continued to play, but Clarie stopped. Tears began to drip down her face, slowly, sadly.

Erik was shocked. So the violinist could sing after all. And she sang well! Even without training she seemed incapable of singing out of key. Music was familiar to her.

She might even be comparable to Christine.

This girl was quickly entrancing Erik. He looked at her curiously, the unspoken question in his heart: why was she crying?

He soon got his answer.

"I miss you, Maman," she whispered, so quietly that Erik could barely hear her, "I miss you, Papa."

So she is an orphan, Erik thought.

Just mentioning her parents seemed to put the girl over the edge, sending her into almost hysterical sobbing.

"Maman…Papa…" she murmured tenderly between cries. Erik felt a twinge in his heart, as if he was breaking a sacred law by observing this fragile creature in such a moment of grief.

It tooke several minutes of crying before the young girl was able to somewhat pull herself together. When she did, Erik leaned in to hear what was being said.

"Maman, Papa," she began hesitantly, "why…why have you left me all alone?" The grief in her voice was the saddest and most raw that Erik had ever heard. Her hands trembled as she stood to her feet, her head looking up toward an unseen ghost.

"Why have you abandoned me?" she exclaimed, suddenly and bitterly. She didn't continue for a moment, choking on a sob. After several rapid breaths she continued.

"What have I done to deserve this? Why have you left me?" Clarie barely finished the last word before she could speak no longer. She broke down and wept on the ground, leaving Erik at a loss for words as he watched.

"Papa…Maman…"Clarie moaned, "Where are you?"

At that moment, Erik made a decision, without fully understanding the reason why.

Perhaps Christine isn't the only one in need of the angel of music.

Author's note:

Hi, it's me again.. I know, I've been talking a lot in this chapter. But I need your opinions. In the next chapter (I have already written it, I'm just editing it right now) there is going to be some singing with Clarie and the Phantom. No, this isn't going to become a musical, it's just going to be the two of them.

But I need to know what you guys think. How do you feel about it? Cheesy? Love it? Hate it? There are no wrong reviews. It would mean so much if you reviewed. Thank you!