Author's Note --- I don't own nuttin.
In The End --- Had Begun To Take Hold
Christian awoke the next morning to find himself curled into a small ball in the corner of the room, his knees pulled to his chest, and his arms wrapped around his lower legs. He's momentarily unsure as to where he is, but after a quick glance around the room, yesterday's events flood his mind.
He remembers the doctor coming. . . Remembers Toulouse trying to pull him away from Satine. . . Remembers Satie trying to calm him down. . . Remembers yelling. . . screaming. . . trying to get back to Satine. . . And yet, they wouldn't let him. They said he was crowding the doctor. Told him to stay back. Forced him to stay back.
And sometime during the long wait, he fell asleep.
Christian grunts as he tries to stand, his leg muscles screaming as they are finally moved from the uncomfortable position. Stumbling at first, he begins the short walk to the bed, his fears mounting. What if she died? What if she had passed on while he slept? What if she had left the world while he was sleeping, not knowing what was going on? If his beloved passed away without him by her side, he would surely murder himself on the spot.
Scared that his worst fear has come true, he stands at the edge of the bed, not looking at her. Tears begin rolling down his cheeks as he tries to brace himself. . . With a deep breath, his gaze focuses on her small, pale body. . . Oh, so pale. . . So small. . . So frail. . . and he sighs in relief as he sees the slight rise of her chest as she breathes.
A small, thankful smile graces his face as he grabs one of her hands in his own. "Thank you. . . Oh God, thank you, for not taking my Satine. . ." With his free hand, he wipes away his tears, before focusing entirely on Satine. "Darling? Everything's going to be fine. We'll get through this. Both of us. And I promise. . . They are never going to take me away from you again. I'm not leaving your side, not until you're better, understand? I'm here. . . I'm right here, baby."
"Chwistian?"
Christian jumps, having not known that he wasn't alone in the room. "Toulouse?" As he speaks the name, the small dwarf appears from the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand. "Yes, Chwistian, I'm hewe. Dwink this," Toulouse says, offering the glass to Christian.
"What did the doctor say? Has she woken up? Did she ask for me? Why didn't y'all wake me? Is she going to be okay? Is there any medicine we can give her? Anything that will help her chances?"
Sighing, Toulouse moves towards the other side of the bed, looking down at Satine. "Chwistian. . . She stiww hasn't awaken. The doctow said that thewe's nothing we can do. There's onwy a smaww chance that she'ww live, and even if she does, she may aways be iww. The doctow. . . Chwistian, he doesn't expect hew to wive. He says. . . He says that she pwobabwy has about two weeks weft."
Christian gasps, staring at his friend, disbelieving. "No. . . No, Toulouse, you're lying to me. Why are you lying? She's going to live!!!!" Christian squeezes Satine's hand tightly, a new slew of tears coming. "But there's a small chance, right? Right? That she'll live? You said that there was!"
"Yes, Chwistian. She may wive. But, just in case. . . The doctow said that you shouwd twy to make hew wast days hewe as comfowtable as possible. And that we shouwd have evewyone come to say goodbye."
"No. . . No. . . Oh God, no! Please. . . Don't take my Satine. . . Satine? Satine? Do you hear me? You have to live. . . Understand? Live! You have to. . . You can't leave me. Come what may, remember? You have to be here! Your dying day is not near. . . You still haven't flown away. You've got a long life ahead of you. We're going to get married, remember? We'll have a big wedding. . . In the French countryside. With tons of flowers. And then I'll take you to London on our honeymoon. We'll have a child. . . A beautiful son or daughter, that will look just like their mother. . . And you'll become a famous actress. I'll become a famous writer. We'll celebrate our fiftieth anniversary with our children and grandchildren all around. . . Please, Satine. Live. For me. For us. Live."
Christian begins to sob, sinking to his knees next to her. "Please. . . Please. . ."
Toulouse wipes his eyes with the back of his hand before handing Christian a handkerchief. "Hawold and Mawie are going to be hewe in a wittle while. . . So wiww Chocowat and Baby Doll. . . The othew giwls awe coming tomowwow. . ."
Christian doesn't seem to hear a word of what Toulouse said, still whispering the word 'please' between sobs.
Toulouse sighs, shaking his head. Why the Gods would pick Christian to torture out of all the creatures of the Underworld, he didn't understand. Christian didn't deserve this. Neither did Satine.
Taking his coat off of the chair, Toulouse silently slips out of the room, giving Christian some time alone.
Okay, this chapter I really don't like. It's a whole lot of nothing, that I wrote in ten minutes. But I needed something to bridge the last chapter to the next (yes, I already wrote the seventh before even starting the sixth. I'll probably post the seventh in a day or two.) But anyway, review, please. ( Thank you.
In The End --- Had Begun To Take Hold
Christian awoke the next morning to find himself curled into a small ball in the corner of the room, his knees pulled to his chest, and his arms wrapped around his lower legs. He's momentarily unsure as to where he is, but after a quick glance around the room, yesterday's events flood his mind.
He remembers the doctor coming. . . Remembers Toulouse trying to pull him away from Satine. . . Remembers Satie trying to calm him down. . . Remembers yelling. . . screaming. . . trying to get back to Satine. . . And yet, they wouldn't let him. They said he was crowding the doctor. Told him to stay back. Forced him to stay back.
And sometime during the long wait, he fell asleep.
Christian grunts as he tries to stand, his leg muscles screaming as they are finally moved from the uncomfortable position. Stumbling at first, he begins the short walk to the bed, his fears mounting. What if she died? What if she had passed on while he slept? What if she had left the world while he was sleeping, not knowing what was going on? If his beloved passed away without him by her side, he would surely murder himself on the spot.
Scared that his worst fear has come true, he stands at the edge of the bed, not looking at her. Tears begin rolling down his cheeks as he tries to brace himself. . . With a deep breath, his gaze focuses on her small, pale body. . . Oh, so pale. . . So small. . . So frail. . . and he sighs in relief as he sees the slight rise of her chest as she breathes.
A small, thankful smile graces his face as he grabs one of her hands in his own. "Thank you. . . Oh God, thank you, for not taking my Satine. . ." With his free hand, he wipes away his tears, before focusing entirely on Satine. "Darling? Everything's going to be fine. We'll get through this. Both of us. And I promise. . . They are never going to take me away from you again. I'm not leaving your side, not until you're better, understand? I'm here. . . I'm right here, baby."
"Chwistian?"
Christian jumps, having not known that he wasn't alone in the room. "Toulouse?" As he speaks the name, the small dwarf appears from the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand. "Yes, Chwistian, I'm hewe. Dwink this," Toulouse says, offering the glass to Christian.
"What did the doctor say? Has she woken up? Did she ask for me? Why didn't y'all wake me? Is she going to be okay? Is there any medicine we can give her? Anything that will help her chances?"
Sighing, Toulouse moves towards the other side of the bed, looking down at Satine. "Chwistian. . . She stiww hasn't awaken. The doctow said that thewe's nothing we can do. There's onwy a smaww chance that she'ww live, and even if she does, she may aways be iww. The doctow. . . Chwistian, he doesn't expect hew to wive. He says. . . He says that she pwobabwy has about two weeks weft."
Christian gasps, staring at his friend, disbelieving. "No. . . No, Toulouse, you're lying to me. Why are you lying? She's going to live!!!!" Christian squeezes Satine's hand tightly, a new slew of tears coming. "But there's a small chance, right? Right? That she'll live? You said that there was!"
"Yes, Chwistian. She may wive. But, just in case. . . The doctow said that you shouwd twy to make hew wast days hewe as comfowtable as possible. And that we shouwd have evewyone come to say goodbye."
"No. . . No. . . Oh God, no! Please. . . Don't take my Satine. . . Satine? Satine? Do you hear me? You have to live. . . Understand? Live! You have to. . . You can't leave me. Come what may, remember? You have to be here! Your dying day is not near. . . You still haven't flown away. You've got a long life ahead of you. We're going to get married, remember? We'll have a big wedding. . . In the French countryside. With tons of flowers. And then I'll take you to London on our honeymoon. We'll have a child. . . A beautiful son or daughter, that will look just like their mother. . . And you'll become a famous actress. I'll become a famous writer. We'll celebrate our fiftieth anniversary with our children and grandchildren all around. . . Please, Satine. Live. For me. For us. Live."
Christian begins to sob, sinking to his knees next to her. "Please. . . Please. . ."
Toulouse wipes his eyes with the back of his hand before handing Christian a handkerchief. "Hawold and Mawie are going to be hewe in a wittle while. . . So wiww Chocowat and Baby Doll. . . The othew giwls awe coming tomowwow. . ."
Christian doesn't seem to hear a word of what Toulouse said, still whispering the word 'please' between sobs.
Toulouse sighs, shaking his head. Why the Gods would pick Christian to torture out of all the creatures of the Underworld, he didn't understand. Christian didn't deserve this. Neither did Satine.
Taking his coat off of the chair, Toulouse silently slips out of the room, giving Christian some time alone.
Okay, this chapter I really don't like. It's a whole lot of nothing, that I wrote in ten minutes. But I needed something to bridge the last chapter to the next (yes, I already wrote the seventh before even starting the sixth. I'll probably post the seventh in a day or two.) But anyway, review, please. ( Thank you.