Title: Moulin Rouge: Les Saisons Peuvent Changer (Seasons May Change - at least I hope that's right!)

Author: Anya

Rating: R - Deals with some disturbing issues - severe depression, alcoholism, violence, rape, murder, prostitution.....Gee, 1900's Paris sure sounds fun, huh?

Summary: Two years following Satine's death, the Moulin Rouge is still in full flow. Christian, however, is not. This is a tale of his search for absolution and how sometimes all you need is love.

Author's Notes: Of course, this does contain one major spoiler for the film. I guess you know what that is. I'm using a little artistic license here, since the real Toulouse had died come 1902.

When I saw the film, I felt so sorry for Christian. He had had all his dreams and ideals shattered. I wanted him to have a happy ending. Also everyone kept saying that you just couldn't do a believable sequel to this film and I do like a challenge! This story kept popping up in my head and just wouldn't leave me alone, so I wrote it. Do enjoy. And if you do, tell me. Writers must have their egos fed!

Disclaimer: Moulin Rouge and everything associated with it belong to Baz Lurhman et al. The characters of Vianne, Chanterelle and Lucille are of my invention and hence belong to me. The songs used here are credited at the end. None of this gains me a profit, just takes up a lot of my spare time....

MOULIN ROUGE: Les Saisons Peuvent Changer....

PARIS 1902.....

Prologue

A young man sits in a dingy, filthy apartment. He is in little better state than his surroundings. Unshaven and unkempt, it looks as if he has been on a downward spiral for some time. He is surrounded by various bottles - mainly absinthe and all empty - as well as plethora of other rubbish. The only clear spaces in the room appear to be one small section of the bed, in which he sleeps, and on the desk surrounding the typewriter. The contraption has sat in a state of disuse for a year now. He only retrieved it from the pawn broker in order that he could fulfil the dying wish of the woman he loved.

Their story lay written beside the typewriter. No one bar him had ever read it. No one would. It was not for public eyes. The work he did for the shows had dried up the instant the last spark of life had left her. His muse was gone. His inspiration dead. His reason for living had abandoned him.

As Christian sat, pen held floatingly over his journal, he switched off his mind and allowed himself to write. This private catharsis was all that he had. He was a recluse - rarely seen in the outside world and had minimal contact with other people. Even the persistent Toulouse had been less frequent in his visits of late.

But Christian knew he had to do something. Clear out some of what was cluttering his mind or he would undoubtedly slip into insanity.

That was, of course, relying on the premise that he hadn't already. He couldn't be sure anymore. Remembering what things had been like before Satine was so difficult.

So he wrote. Wrote down the pain he lived with everyday and somehow it made it bearable. Today's entry was different though. Not the mournful wailing of sorrow, not the constant asking of 'why', but something else entirely more frightening:

'Every day it is fading. Not the hurt - I fear that will last with me for eternity and beyond. But her. Satine. I can no longer remember the sound of her voice. The way she looked when she smiled. The exact shade of her eyes. She is fading from me and I can't seem to stop it.

And when she is gone, finally leaving me forever, what will she leave behind? What have I become? A shell of a man filled with nothing but pain and sorrow.

Oh, Satine! Take me with you! Tear out my soul and drag it to the place where you 're going. I am of no use here anymore. I have lived with the grief of your memory for so long now, I no longer know how to function without it....'

He looked out of the window he sat on and down into the Moulin Rouge below him. It was just past four in the morning now and the sound of revelry had finally turned silent. Christian often wondered why he stayed here, surrounded by such harsh reminders, but he always knew the answer - Satine was here. Her spirit imbued the place and he couldn't - wouldn't - escape from it's grasp.

"Satine," he whispered softly, talking to the stars they had once danced under. She was a sparkling diamond. Surely she had been planted in the sky with the others of her kind.

"Satine, why did you have to be you? Why were you the one?"

If only she'd been a simple dancer, or a flower girl or a seamstress, or anything but the star of the show. They would have been free then to love and live, and they could have been happy.

But it wasn't to be. That's not how the fairy-story had worked out. Christian began to sing to himself. Softly, his voice mixing with the gentle breeze.

Once upon a lifetime

I looked in someone's eyes

And felt the fire burning in my heart

For the very first time

Oh yes, it had been like that. A fire blazing so fiercely he thought he would combust. It was all the writers said it would be. Fireworks. Explosions. A choir of dulcet angels.

I was scared and young

And never tasted love

But a woman took my hand

And turned a boy into a man

Once upon a lifetime

Scared? Terrified more like. That night in the elephant, when she had been trying to seduce him because she thought he was the Duke? He hadn't known where to look or place himself. Beautiful women did not throw themselves at him everyday. Or any day for that matter.

Had Satine ever been in love before? He didn't think so. A smile played across his lips as he remembered how violently opposed she was to the notion. And yet, he had seen something in her. A willingness behind her facade of the uncaring courtesan, out for the highest price.

And once upon a lifetime

You hold the Queen Of Hearts

But if you gamble on a diamond win

The dealing starts

You stand to lose it all

As the cards begin to fall

And the lessoned learned is hard

You're only dealt the Queen Of Hearts

Once upon a lifetime

A diamond. The Queen Of Hearts. Satine had been these and more. A rare symphony of characters and passions, talents and dreams. How could there be another like her in this world? And how could he ever settle for anything less?

So if you're taking chances know the chance you take

A broken heart's a high price to pay

Foolish ways will make fools of the wise

And the best things seldom come along twice

And people only find a love like yours and mine

Once upon a lifetime

As his voice faded into a frost mist, he felt the loneliness seep into his veins once more.

Just the once. Never again would he love with such a passion and intensity. He simply didn't think he could - his ravished soul had nothing left to give anymore. And if it couldn't be how it had been with Satine, then he didn't want to love at all. He wanted to mourn. Then he wanted to die.