~ * ~ E S C A P I N G * T H E * U N D E R W O R L D ~ * ~

by Karadarlin and She's a Star

~ * ~ N I N E : M E M O R I E S * K E E P ~ * ~

by She's a Star

~*~

"We're back," Christian said weakly as they stepped into his garret. Even after almost a year, nobody had inhabited it, and Satine couldn't help but feel her heart rise the tiniest bit as they entered.

She'd missed it here so much.

Night had fallen, and through the window she could see twinkling stars scattered across the ebony sky.

"Oh, Christian," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his waist.

He kissed her cheek tenderly, then sighed as they both silently admired the stars, sparkling like diamonds.

Diamonds.

It had seemed so long ago...back when she had valued them above all things. Now they were nothing to her. They couldn't make her feel the way Christian could, as though anything was possible.

They couldn't bring her baby back.

Satine felt tears well up in her eyes, as they had so many times on the journey back, and she leaned into Christian and began to sob. He stroked her hair, murmuring softly.

"I love you," he whispered. "I love you so much...I don't know what I would do without you..."

Satine knew why he wasn't saying that everything was going to be all right.

Because it wasn't.

It could never be all right again.

Not after losing their child.

"It's my fault," she said shakily through sobs, finally voicing the thoughts that had been flying through her mind for so long. "It's my fault our baby is dead."

"What?" Christian asked in disbelief.

"I'm a creature of the underworld," Satine cried, "I'm lower than dirt, I'm awful and dirty and full of sin, and I got away." She took a shaky breath. "I got away, and I thought that I could just leave my life behind me, but I can't. Once you live like that for so long, you can't just escape, just like that...the underworld's going to pull you back down again."

"Satine, no," Christian whispered. "Don't even think like that."

Satine ignored him...these thoughts had been tormenting her for too long, and now that she'd begun to voice them, there was no way she'd be able to stop.

"And I was happy," Satine continued, tears running down her cheeks, "I was SO happy, Christian...I had you and then we created a life, and we brought the most beautiful person ever into the world. But the underworld was laughing, and it was plotting, all along, to take her away from us. Because of me. I'm always going to be trapped, Christian."

"Darling, don't..." Christian said weakly. He sighed heavily, then began to sing, voice full of mourning but containing the slightest trace of hope.

"You will fly and you will crawl...God knows even angels fall."

"I'm no angel," Satine responded bitterly. "It should have been me. I should have stayed here, I should have died, I should have let the consumption take over me and then none of this would have happened."

Christian was staring at her looking more pained than she'd ever seen him, blue eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Satine," he said softly, "Don't even say that...please."

"Why not?" she sniffled.

"You know why," he said, giving her a sad smile and caressing her cheek. "You're everything to me. If you were gone...if you...died-" He winced, as though it caused him pain to even speak the word, "-I...I would waste away. My soul would die. You're the most beautiful, amazing, wonderful thing in my life...you're what I live for." His smile reaching his eyes, Christian sang an excerpt from their secret song.

"It all revolves around you."

Satine felt the teeniest bit of happiness fill her...the emotion was now foreign, and seemed to warm her entire body.

"Thank God I have you," she said as Christian brushed a tear off her cheek. "I don't even come close to deserving you, but I'm selfish...now that I have you, I'm never letting you go."

"I'm not complaining there," Christian smiled.

Satine laughed a little, the musical sound strange to her own ears.

"You're amazing," Satine declared, throwing her arms around Christian and pressing her lips to his.

As they parted, Christian smiled at her.

"As are you, Mademoiselle."

~*~

A week flew by, seeming so much shorter than seven days. Though still feeling a dull ache inside that Satine suspected would never fully leave her, Christian always found a way to make her smile or laugh. It seemed, if it was possible, that she found herself falling more and more in love with him each day. He was so selfless: Satine knew he had to be hurting inside, just as she was, but he never showed it...just focused on making her happy.

The night of her seventh day back in Montmartre, Satine couldn't sleep. With a sigh, she kissed Christian, who was sleeping soundly, on the cheek, then rose from bed and walked out to the balcony. There the Moulin Rouge stood, so majestic and sparkling, loud music pulsating from it. It was so strange, to merely watch it from the outside instead of being in there, dancing with every man's eyes on her.

Nini was probably in there right now, doing her routine. Satine knew that she would never be replaced by Nini...it wasn't conceit, just the truth. She'd been a legend.

Closing her eyes, she pictured herself once more in the club...the glitter falling from the ceiling and grandly announcing her entrance...everyone turning in unison to fix their gaze upon her...her opening her lips and beginning to sing.

"The French are glad to die for love," she sang quietly to herself. "They delight in fighting duels..."

She missed it.

There was no point in denying that. Yes, she'd yearned to fly away more than ever, but now that she almost had, she realized that the Moulin Rouge was her home. She could live a long, happy life without going back to her work as a courtesan, that was for certain, but...

She longed to be dancing in there again, to be the star.

"Stop it," Satine ordered herself quietly. "That's in the past."

But now that she was back, it was almost tempting to just burst in there. Satine laughed at the mental image of herself belting out 'Sparkling Diamonds' in her white cotton nightgown, hair pulled back in a messy twist. Oooh, they'd all want her then.

Sighing, she studied the young men that stood in front of the club, all wearing expressions of utmost excitement at the prospect of visiting it. She almost envied them...the second you entered the club, you left everything else behind you. It was just a whirl of flashing skirts and beautiful girls and loud music.

Just as she was about to turn and go climb back into bed, a figure caught Satine's eye. A man. He wasn't young, as the others were, but middle aged with hair the color of straw.

"The Duke," she whispered, feeling as though her blood had just frozen to ice inside her veins.

At that moment, as though called, he looked up, and Satine felt his eyes lock with hers. Time seemed to be put on pause, and Harold's words from so long ago drifted through her mind.

'The Duke is going to kill Christian.'

Satine saw him mouth something, and her heart stopped as she watched his lips form the words.

"She is mine."

~*~

"Will my Sleeping Beauty ever awaken?"

Satine moaned and rolled over in bed, the sun uncomfortably bright. Finally, she surrendered to the fact that she'd have to wake up sooner or later and forced herself to open her eyes. Christian stood over her, wearing his trademark boyish grin.

"I think Prince Charming has to kiss me first," Satine responded teasingly.

"Your wish is my command," Christian smiled, leaning over her and pressing his lips to her own. Satine allowed herself to get lost in the blissful sensation for a moment before Christian pulled away and announced, clearly annoyed, "I've got writer's block."

"Well, that's not good," Satine said, sitting up in bed. "What are you trying to write about?"

"I don't know yet," Christian replied with a sigh. "I just feel like I need to write...something, but I haven't got a story to tell."

"Oh, yes you do," Satine responded, standing up and stretching. "Tell our story."

"You'd want me to tell all that to the entire world?" Christian asked, a bit surprised.

"Of course," Satine replied, draping her arms over his shoulders. "It's the greatest romance since Romeo and Juliet, after all."

"And just as tragic," Christian said, his voice holding the tiniest bit of woe. Satine had never thought him to be one who hid his feelings, but he had been so closed off about losing their baby...during the time they'd been back, Satine had burst into sobs randomly and he'd held her all the while, murmuring to her and stroking her hair. But he'd never cried himself.

"Darling, you know you can talk to me," Satine said softly, "I know how-"

"Chickpea!"

The door swung open, revealing a grinning Harold.

"Hello, Harold," Satine greeted him, pulling away from Christian.

"And how are our lovebirds?" Harold asked with a chuckle.

"My poet has writer's block," Satine responded, pecking Christian on the cheek.

"Well, let's hope you get over it soon!" Harold said merrily. "Now, Strawberry, would you mind coming down to the Moulin Rouge for a bit? Marie has something to tell you."

"What is it?" Satine asked curiously. Marie had acted a bit oddly during the entire visit at Claremont...perhaps she would finally reveal why.

"She didn't say," Harold replied with a shrug. "Christian, my boy, you don't mind being alone here for a while, do you?"

"No, it's fine," Christian replied. "You go on."

"I'll be back soon," Satine gave him another kiss on the cheek before grabbing her husband's overcoat and following Harold out the door, through the building, and into the street.

"So..." Harold started, his voice solemn, "How are you, Sparrow?"

Satine sighed, trying to think of how to put her feelings in words.

"It's...empty," Satine finally replied softly. "I mean, I have Christian and I'm so grateful to...he's everything to me, but...it seems like something is missing now. Before, I couldn't imagine needing anything more than Christian, and as long as I had him I'd be so content. But that was before I knew...what it was like, to have a tiny little baby that you got to bring up, to show the world." She paused momentarily, biting her lips in a desperate attempt to keep her tears from falling. "And sometimes I dream and she's there, and they're such vivid dreams. And then I wake up, and my baby isn't with me." Satine continued to struggle fighting off her tears. "And she never will be again."

It still seemed surreal...impossible that she would never be able to run her fingers over her baby's soft skin or see her mouth form into a happy, toothless smile...would never hear her cry, or laugh...

"Oh, Harold," Satine felt a tear trickle down her cheek as Harold wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "I know it's awful of me, but I just...want to make all the memories of her disappear. I just want to forget her. That's so wretched of me, I'm evil-"

"No, Gosling," Harold interrupted. "I know how you feel."

"You do?" Satine asked, sniffling.

"Yes," Harold said. "Marie and I had a child, a while before you came to the club."

"You never told me."

"I know," Harold's tone was gruff, as though he was inwardly trying to strangle any emotions he was feeling. "It never came up...but we had a daughter, just like you did. Calista...she was absolutely beautiful. Died at only a month old. And Chickpea, I did the exact same thing...tried to kill the memories. But it didn't work, and...you just have to accept them, Satine, and think of them fondly."

He sighed, then said, "When you came to us, I knew that you were different. That you'd make your way into my heart. And now you're like a daughter to me."

"Oh, Harold," Satine hugged him and pecked him on one ruddy cheek. "You're the best father in the world."

"What do you mean?" Harold asked. "I never got a chance..."

Satine gave him a smile. "You did with me."

"Oh, Chickpea," Harold said, sounding as though he was holding back tears. His bright blue eyes were shining a bit, and it was the closest Satine had ever seen him to crying.

They entered the Moulin Rouge courtyard, a comfortable silence in the air, and Harold held the door open for Satine. She stepped inside the dance hall, and immediately her heart seemed to cease beating.

The Duke was standing in the middle of the hall, his back to Satine and Harold, snapping at the dancers and Marie.

"I know she's here," the Duke cried. "I know, I saw her last night! Let me see her!"

The girls were all staring at the Duke in fear, eyes wide. When Marie saw that Satine had entered, she began to mouth, "Leave! Now!". Spinning on her heel, Satine was almost out the door when the Duke spun around.

"Ahhh," he said, his voice sending a chill up and down Satine's spine. "The Sparkling Diamond returns to us after so long."

Shaking, Satine turned around to face him. Trepidation filled her the second she fixed her gaze on him. No sane man's face could look like that...eyes filled with murderous, almost psychotic rage, features twisted into what looked like some awful sort of mask.

"Dear Duke-" Harold started nervously.

"Leave us be!" the Duke interrupted.

No one moved.

"LEAVE US BE!" the Duke screamed. Satine shuddered as the loud sound echoed throughout the Moulin Rouge like a gunshot, and Marie quickly led the dancers out of the club. Harold, however, didn't move.

"Leave, Zidler," ordered the Duke.

"Dear Duke, I think I should stay," Harold replied firmly.

"Are you sure you want to press your luck, Zidler?" the Duke asked. Satine was positive he was bluffing...Harold was much larger than him, and could easily win if the Duke ever tried to attack him. But seconds later, Satine's stomach began doing flip-flops as the Duke pulled a gun from his pocket.

"Harry, leave," she whispered.

Harold shook his head.

"Harry, GO!" she hissed.

"No."

"Listen to the girl, Zidler!" the Duke commanded.

"Harry, please?" Satine asked weakly. The Duke obviously wasn't in his right mind, and letting Harold stay in here could easily get him killed.

"All right," Harold finally said, his eyes filled with sadness and worry as he stepped outside.

The door closed, announcing the fact that Satine was entirely alone with the Duke, who was eyeing her in a manner that made her shiver.

"My diamond is back," he said in a voice barely above a whisper, slowly advancing on her.

"I'm not yours," Satine replied, her voice shaking in fear.

"Oh, but you are," the Duke said, reaching up and caressing Satine's face. She recoiled in disgust at the touch and took a few steps away from him.

"No, I'm not," Satine's voice grew stronger.

"Yes," the Duke said, stepping closer yet again. "You are mine, and I have the contract to prove it."

"A piece of paper can't make me yours."

"You are MINE!" the Duke shouted, his eyes sparkling dangerously.

"You're so naive! You can't own people!" Satine yelled, knowing that she was being incredibly foolish. The Duke had her life in his hands, and yet she was letting out all the raging hatred that she'd had to pretend was infatuation for far too long. "And you can't buy love! You're just like a spoiled child-you think that just because you're wealthy, you can have anything you want! Well, guess what? You're wrong, because I. Will. Never. Love. You."

"You will love me!" the Duke thundered, his voice shaking angrily. "You will be mine!"

"I love CHRISTIAN!" Satine screamed. "We're MARRIED! You hear that? MARRIED! If I belong to anyone, it's him!"

"Ahhh, the writer," the Duke said, his voice quiet yet dangerous. "I can have him killed."

"Then you'll have to kill me, too," Satine said bravely. "Because I'll NEVER be with you! You REPULSE me! You're crazy and evil and horrible and disgusting! You squish FROGS for entertainment, for Christ's sake! You don't CARE about me, you just want me on your arm because I'm the Sparkling Diamond! And I'm not anymore! I'm just Satine, and quite frankly, I don't think you'll find Just Satine good enough for you!"

"How dare yo-"

"And then you try to get me to love you by buying me a Goddamn NECKLACE! Some worthless piece of jewelry can't make me LOVE you!"

"That writer can give you nothing!"

"'That writer' gave me EVERYTHING!" Satine cried. "Do you hear me? EVERYTHING! My life was SO empty before him, and I didn't even know it! I was a fool before him, because I BELIEVED that you could buy love! And you CAN'T! Just get it through your head and leave and go find some other girl who wants diamonds! Stop dwelling on me!"

The Duke looked as though he'd been slapped, and the gun fell from his hands and onto the floor as he stared at her, stunned.

"You didn't think the Sparkling Diamond could yell like that, did you?" she asked simply. "Au revoir."

And with that, she turned and walked out of the Moulin Rouge, dignified as ever.

~*~

Harold informed her the next morning that the Duke had gone back to England, finally leaving the Gothic Tower vacant.

"I can't believe he stayed for a year, waiting around for me," she said as she sipped her tea and then set it down onto she and Christian's table.

Harold sighed. "The Sparkling Diamond has an amazing influence on men, Satine. She lures them with her song, and some get captivated more easily than others. Our Christian here should know, eh?"

Christian nodded and grinned, "Yes, Darling, you are pretty captivating." He paused and kissed her on the cheek. "But the real Satine puts the Diamond to shame."

Satine smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder. It felt strange, somehow, to be able to sit in front of Harold without having to pretend they had nothing happening between them.

"You flirt shamelessly, Mr. Claremont," Satine teased him.

"I can't help it, Mrs. Claremont," Christian replied, his blue eyes sparkling happily.

Harold chuckled delightedly at them, then announced, "All right, you lovebirds, I'd better get back to the Moulin Rouge soon or Marie will have my hide."

"Bye, Harold!" Satine called after him.

As soon as the door had shut behind Harold, a knock announced the arrival of someone else.

Christian got up and went to answer the door. An older woman with gray hair that Satine recognized as the landlady held up a telegram and asked in her thick English accent, "You Christian Claremont?"

Christian nodded. "Yes."

"This just came for you," she said, handing him the letter.

"Thank you," Christian replied, then shut the door behind her.

"What does it say?" Satine asked, standing up from her chair and walking over to her husband. After reading a few lines of the telegram, Christian let out a strangled cry.

"What is it?" she repeated worriedly.

"It's from Mum," Christian said weakly. "Father's...sick. He's...oh, God, Satine..."

"He's what?" Satine asked, nervousness filling her. She had a feeling she knew what Christian was going to say.

Taking a deep breath, Christian finished.

"He's dying."