A/N: I feel so terrible! I've these next too chapters written since May! Ack! I'm so so so so so so so so so sooooooooooo……….. Sorry every one! Please forgive me! Also I would like to add that I am considering abandoning this fic, because I have so many and I'm not sure where to go with this. Any ideas will be appreciated and attributed.

Chapter five: Broken Hearts and Shattered Lives

Angel looked up at the man before her. His hair was the same glossy black as hers, his eyes the same intense blue, they were so dark they almost seemed black, they reminded her of thunderclouds right now, with all the emotion flashing in them, but all these physical similarities could be coincidence. It was the face that gave it away. That same grotesque distortion that marred the right of side of his handsome face marred the right side of her's as well.

"You're… You're my father…" she whispered again, the words falling from her trembling lips like the tears falling from her eyes. She silently cursed the tears that slipped through the crevices of the scarred twisted flesh on one side of her face and slid down the smooth skin of the other. She hated crying it made her seem as weak as her mother had been. "There is so much she kept from me… so much she hid…Why didn't she tell me?" Angel looked up, still kneeling on the floor, into her father's eyes and saw shock and disbelief. "She never told you either. You had no idea… All these year I lived with... with those people… who didn't… understand me… and… and…"

"And if your mother had bothered to write me I would have gladly taken you in and raised you myself," he said with a sigh. "Oh, Angel, I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry. If only I had known… if she had told me... Or if I'd done my research better… but that was the point wasn't it?" he asked bitterly. "We were never supposed to meet, never supposed to know…I can't believe Christine would keep this from me, I have a daughter. My child, my angel… but if you didn't know then why did you come here? What did Christine tell you about me?"

Angel watched as her father's gaze traveled to the cruel thin blade she had dropped earlier. It was still lying there gleaming in the candlelight.

"You… You came to kill me…" Angel's heart seemed to shatter at the pain in his voice. "They would have let my own daughter murder me!" Angel nodded slowly in painful conformation.

"Yes and I would have to if were not this," she motioned to her face, for once in her life glad that it was so deformed. "I thought after I had…killed you … that the… the Viscount would accept me as his daughter…."

"They let you believe that that… that… fop was your father!" Angel nodded.

"They told me so many terrible things about you… I wonder now how much of it was true…but Maman… she loved to talk about your voice… she even taught me some of your songs before the Viscount banned music entirely… Oh Maman!" Angel buried her face in her hands and began to sob mournfully.

Erik watched, his heart breaking, as his daughter sobbed. It was going to be a difficult adjustment for him and her as well. It angered him to think that for 16 that pompous pig of a Viscount had raised his daughter letting her believe that he was some kind of a monster. He knew that was why Christine hadn't told them about each other… she didn't want Angelique raised by a monster, a demon, to become the same.

That was when it him that Angelique had never referred to her mother in present tense. He had thought she might be crying her name out of sheer distress, but perhaps there was another reason.

"Child, I think it is time that you told me your story, beginning with your earliest memory."

Angelique looked up him, her blue eyes wide and red rimmed.

"M-my earliest memory?"

He nodded.

"Well," she began slowly, "my earliest memory… I suppose would be of the time when my mother actually loved me, before Jonathan was born. I couldn't have been more than two. Even then the Viscount hated me; he hated me with ever foppish fiber of his being." She smiled faintly, and Erik felt his heart lift a little. "But Maman was so kind to me back then, it was she who taught me to love Music, though some of that was natural I'm sure. I remember she always sang me a lullaby, one in particular was her favorite," Angelique began to sing some of the song and Erik recognized it as the one he had serenaded his Angel of Music with on the night of her debut. "She…she loved me then, she would always whisper as she left 'Bon nuit, ma petit ange…'"

A/N Sorry for the short Chappie… I took a nerve pill and I need some sleep!