*A/N* All I have to say is, I'm sorry. :( please don't beat me!
Twin Lights...Odd behavior
"That," Christian said protectively, "is my son," and stood between Satine and his father, waiting for the explosion that was sure to come. The fathers stared each other down...
Mr. James blinked and broke into a forced smile. "You son... I see," he managed to say through clenched teeth. "This little tyke as well?"
Christian held Jared tighter against his chest. "Yes."
"How lovely."
An uncomfortable silence reigned for a moment, broken by Marie clearing her throat rather loudly, amplifying the awkwardness of the situation.
"Well," Mr. James finally spoke, "I better be off then. Can't find a place to sleep in the dark!" He chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood. Harry suddenly beamed at Christian, who (for a reason he couldn't explain) cringed inside.
"You could stay with your son! I'm sure he'd love to have you, wouldn't you Christian." It wasn't a question.
"Well actually-"
"Wonderful! There's more than enough room at the garret for one more! And it would give us the chance to stay in touch for awhile," he said to Mr. James and putting his pudgy arm around his shoulder and shaking him amiably.
"I'm sure Mr. James would much prefer staying somewhere with less noise and activity. The twins are a handful and we wouldn't want them to be a bother..." Satine graciously put in, her tone never faltering. "After all, they are active little boys..."
"They wouldn't be a bother!" Mr. James exclaimed enthusiastically, genuinely smiling for the first time in years. It only looked like his face was stretched too tightly and would crack open at any second. He picked little Jared up from his father's arms and cooed frighteningly at the poor boy. He sniveled slightly and rubbed his eyes, not daring to cry too loudly. Ian sensed his brother's distress and began to wail for the both of them, as he usually did (he had the lung power to do it).
Christian thought of protesting but something held him back; the old chains of the past and the invisible authority of a father were like great weights on his shoulders. He only said softly, "We better be off then."
They walked silently home, a bewildered Satine trying to stop the crying of the little redhead boy, and Christian, shoulders slumped, deep in thought.
***
A week had passed and still Christian's father stayed. He spent most of his days visiting Harold (although he hated the Moulin, or even going out on the streets of the "Village of Sin") and playing with the twins, who seemed to greatly dislike their new playmate. He made no notice of it.
Christian, on the other hand, became more temperamental, barely tolerating Ian's howling, as opposed to a week before where he would have immediately rushed to his son's cries. "Take care of that insufferable noise before I do!" he'd once said, slamming the garret door behind him as he went out for air. Satine's tears had mixed with Ian's, who hadn't stopped crying due to his mother's distress.
He ignored Jared's silent pleas to be held, and never read him poetry as he used to (Ian never sat still enough to make his father believe he was listening. Jared however listened with rapt attention for a child of one years old). The boy hadn't stopped whimpering since Mr. James' arrival.
***
Christian sat on the tattered sofa, brooding in his dark thoughts, silently cursing. Satine watched from the boys' room where she finally managed to put the twins to sleep. Fear kept her from going to him (and either slapping him across the face for his idiotic behavior, or wrapping her arms around him in comfort; she couldn't decide). She silently reprimanded herself for the fear that still haunted her to this day; the ones with the duke and being hurt. Although she knew Christian would never hurt her, he wasn't exactly himself these days...
Resolved, she held her chin up and marched to the sofa and stood in front of Christian. He made no notice of her. She sat beside him silently, hoping for a response (at least a hello! He hadn't spoken to her for two days!). Nothing came.
"You haven't touched you typewriter in days," she said quietly. Maybe writing will snap him out of it. "The boys miss you," Satine added.
Christian didn't do as much as blink. **...wasting life... Moulin Rouge... ridiculous obsession with love... ridiculous... a writer... waste of a life...**
"Snap out of it!" Satine almost yelled.
Christian blinked in surprise, as if coming out of a trance. "He's right you know."
"What?"
"It's time I give up my childish dreams. I have children now, and I need to take care of them in the proper way." His voice was oddly monotonous. Satine was almost frightened.
**Proper way?!? Like the way you're treating them now? Those boys need a father, not a stranger living in their house!** Satine huffed angrily. Mr. James had told him this, she was sure of it. How that man managed to control Christian she didn't know, but she wasn't about to stand idly while her lover's soul is crushed to the ground. "You're become your father!" she hissed at him.
"Well I'm sure you're used to that since he was here before. What was he doing anyways?" he replied bitterly. Satine felt her face go red, either from anger and shock.
"You're changing the subject!"
"You're avoiding the question!"
Satine looked at her feet and barely above a whisper said, "I can't tell you."
**Wonderful. If I'm becoming my father, you wouldn't mind sleeping with me too seeing that's probably what happened.**
**That's not what happened!** she yelled in his mind, tears springing to her eyes.
"And why should I believe that?"
Satine didn't answer, but instead ran to their bedroom and slammed the door. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she blocked him out of her head and dressing for bed. She cuddled under the covers, curled up in a tight ball and cried herself to sleep.
***
Christian buried his head in his hands. When was the last time they fought? He couldn't remember, if they ever quarreled at all. Slowly, his eyes shifted to the typewriter. ** ridiculous... a writer... waste of a life...** He walked to it, unsure of what he would do. "Satine is right," he typed on the paper, "I am becoming my father."
In a fit of rage against himself, he threw the typewriter on the floor, almost knocking the desk over. The boys didn't seem to have woken up, but he knew Satine was a light sleeper... She must have heard him.
He went to their bedroom and put his pyjamas quietly. Satine was only pretending to sleep, he knew. He didn't blame her for not wanting to talk to him. He'd been a jerk (nicely put, of course).
"I'm sorry," he whispered in her hair as he kissed her goodnight. "I don't deserve someone like you. I love you."
He listened to Satine soft cries until he fell asleep.
***
Boys are awake, the old man thought as he heard Jared whimper. He was sharing a room with them for his stay. Perfect.
He looked at the twins every night, all night. Watched them sleep. They won't be like them, he always thought, not like their parents. He looked at Ian and saw a whore. He hated the whore, he always thought. But Ian is still pure, Ian can be saved.
He looked at Jared and saw and idiot. The idiot he raised. He would not fail, he always thought. Not with these boys. They can still be saved.
He always waited, biding his time, until the perfect night where the whore and the idiot fought. They were preoccupied now. Tonight is the perfect night to save them.
He picked up the half-asleep twins and tiptoed to the door. He will not fail, not like he had with Christian. He could still raise them properly.
No one saw Mr. James slip out the door with Ian and Jared that night.
Twin Lights...Odd behavior
"That," Christian said protectively, "is my son," and stood between Satine and his father, waiting for the explosion that was sure to come. The fathers stared each other down...
Mr. James blinked and broke into a forced smile. "You son... I see," he managed to say through clenched teeth. "This little tyke as well?"
Christian held Jared tighter against his chest. "Yes."
"How lovely."
An uncomfortable silence reigned for a moment, broken by Marie clearing her throat rather loudly, amplifying the awkwardness of the situation.
"Well," Mr. James finally spoke, "I better be off then. Can't find a place to sleep in the dark!" He chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood. Harry suddenly beamed at Christian, who (for a reason he couldn't explain) cringed inside.
"You could stay with your son! I'm sure he'd love to have you, wouldn't you Christian." It wasn't a question.
"Well actually-"
"Wonderful! There's more than enough room at the garret for one more! And it would give us the chance to stay in touch for awhile," he said to Mr. James and putting his pudgy arm around his shoulder and shaking him amiably.
"I'm sure Mr. James would much prefer staying somewhere with less noise and activity. The twins are a handful and we wouldn't want them to be a bother..." Satine graciously put in, her tone never faltering. "After all, they are active little boys..."
"They wouldn't be a bother!" Mr. James exclaimed enthusiastically, genuinely smiling for the first time in years. It only looked like his face was stretched too tightly and would crack open at any second. He picked little Jared up from his father's arms and cooed frighteningly at the poor boy. He sniveled slightly and rubbed his eyes, not daring to cry too loudly. Ian sensed his brother's distress and began to wail for the both of them, as he usually did (he had the lung power to do it).
Christian thought of protesting but something held him back; the old chains of the past and the invisible authority of a father were like great weights on his shoulders. He only said softly, "We better be off then."
They walked silently home, a bewildered Satine trying to stop the crying of the little redhead boy, and Christian, shoulders slumped, deep in thought.
***
A week had passed and still Christian's father stayed. He spent most of his days visiting Harold (although he hated the Moulin, or even going out on the streets of the "Village of Sin") and playing with the twins, who seemed to greatly dislike their new playmate. He made no notice of it.
Christian, on the other hand, became more temperamental, barely tolerating Ian's howling, as opposed to a week before where he would have immediately rushed to his son's cries. "Take care of that insufferable noise before I do!" he'd once said, slamming the garret door behind him as he went out for air. Satine's tears had mixed with Ian's, who hadn't stopped crying due to his mother's distress.
He ignored Jared's silent pleas to be held, and never read him poetry as he used to (Ian never sat still enough to make his father believe he was listening. Jared however listened with rapt attention for a child of one years old). The boy hadn't stopped whimpering since Mr. James' arrival.
***
Christian sat on the tattered sofa, brooding in his dark thoughts, silently cursing. Satine watched from the boys' room where she finally managed to put the twins to sleep. Fear kept her from going to him (and either slapping him across the face for his idiotic behavior, or wrapping her arms around him in comfort; she couldn't decide). She silently reprimanded herself for the fear that still haunted her to this day; the ones with the duke and being hurt. Although she knew Christian would never hurt her, he wasn't exactly himself these days...
Resolved, she held her chin up and marched to the sofa and stood in front of Christian. He made no notice of her. She sat beside him silently, hoping for a response (at least a hello! He hadn't spoken to her for two days!). Nothing came.
"You haven't touched you typewriter in days," she said quietly. Maybe writing will snap him out of it. "The boys miss you," Satine added.
Christian didn't do as much as blink. **...wasting life... Moulin Rouge... ridiculous obsession with love... ridiculous... a writer... waste of a life...**
"Snap out of it!" Satine almost yelled.
Christian blinked in surprise, as if coming out of a trance. "He's right you know."
"What?"
"It's time I give up my childish dreams. I have children now, and I need to take care of them in the proper way." His voice was oddly monotonous. Satine was almost frightened.
**Proper way?!? Like the way you're treating them now? Those boys need a father, not a stranger living in their house!** Satine huffed angrily. Mr. James had told him this, she was sure of it. How that man managed to control Christian she didn't know, but she wasn't about to stand idly while her lover's soul is crushed to the ground. "You're become your father!" she hissed at him.
"Well I'm sure you're used to that since he was here before. What was he doing anyways?" he replied bitterly. Satine felt her face go red, either from anger and shock.
"You're changing the subject!"
"You're avoiding the question!"
Satine looked at her feet and barely above a whisper said, "I can't tell you."
**Wonderful. If I'm becoming my father, you wouldn't mind sleeping with me too seeing that's probably what happened.**
**That's not what happened!** she yelled in his mind, tears springing to her eyes.
"And why should I believe that?"
Satine didn't answer, but instead ran to their bedroom and slammed the door. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she blocked him out of her head and dressing for bed. She cuddled under the covers, curled up in a tight ball and cried herself to sleep.
***
Christian buried his head in his hands. When was the last time they fought? He couldn't remember, if they ever quarreled at all. Slowly, his eyes shifted to the typewriter. ** ridiculous... a writer... waste of a life...** He walked to it, unsure of what he would do. "Satine is right," he typed on the paper, "I am becoming my father."
In a fit of rage against himself, he threw the typewriter on the floor, almost knocking the desk over. The boys didn't seem to have woken up, but he knew Satine was a light sleeper... She must have heard him.
He went to their bedroom and put his pyjamas quietly. Satine was only pretending to sleep, he knew. He didn't blame her for not wanting to talk to him. He'd been a jerk (nicely put, of course).
"I'm sorry," he whispered in her hair as he kissed her goodnight. "I don't deserve someone like you. I love you."
He listened to Satine soft cries until he fell asleep.
***
Boys are awake, the old man thought as he heard Jared whimper. He was sharing a room with them for his stay. Perfect.
He looked at the twins every night, all night. Watched them sleep. They won't be like them, he always thought, not like their parents. He looked at Ian and saw a whore. He hated the whore, he always thought. But Ian is still pure, Ian can be saved.
He looked at Jared and saw and idiot. The idiot he raised. He would not fail, he always thought. Not with these boys. They can still be saved.
He always waited, biding his time, until the perfect night where the whore and the idiot fought. They were preoccupied now. Tonight is the perfect night to save them.
He picked up the half-asleep twins and tiptoed to the door. He will not fail, not like he had with Christian. He could still raise them properly.
No one saw Mr. James slip out the door with Ian and Jared that night.