Disclaimer - I, do not own the rights to the "Sparkling Diamond[s]" of a movie, "Moulin Rouge" (If I did I would be a genius going by the name of Baz Luhrmann). I am simply one of the "Children of the Revolution" (Although one of "Elephant [Melody]" proportions) that writes fanfiction "Because We Can". "Come What May", but please do not sue me or I will be a "Sad Hindi Diamond". May this be "Your Song" and may you say "Some Day I'll Fly Away"! (I do not own the songs used in this story or in the titles of the chapters either.)

*A Bohemian Storm Is Brewing*

Truth * Beauty * Freedom * Love

~Casidy

§=Þ

~*~

"Quoi Qu'il Arrive"

~ Part XXXX: Hold On For One More Day ~
By: Mariclair

~*~

"Satine!" Christian pleaded softly, his eyes glazing over with tears like a frightened child's. "Please…no." He sobbed and nuzzled her neck, "S-Satine, I love you. Don't leave me."

He whimpered in shook. Large tear drops trickling down his cheeks and off the bridge of his nose, splashing onto Satine's ghostly pale face. "Oh-oh God!" Christian moaned, the reality drumming in his brain.

Shaking so violently, he felt as if he would crumble, Christian let out a thunderous, guttural wail that made the very walls around them shudder. He held her close and continued to weep uncontrollably into her hair.

Christian sat like that for many long, agonizing moments until he had thoroughly exhausted himself. Trembling, his breath coming in gulps, he rest his face on Satine's chest. It took him a second to adjust to the silence, but when he did…a soft sound pounded in his ear. Nestling his cheek even closer, the sound got louder.

A heartbeat.

Maybe not strong, but it was there. His angel still had a pulse. Christian gave an incoherent cry of praise to the heavens as he slid some shoes onto his bare feet. He had to fetch the doctor. Satine wasn't letting go…he couldn't either. He wanted the doctor there now. By morning, it could be too late.

Christian took Satine's face in his hands and placed soft, gentle kisses all over her. "I'll be back soon darling," he promised. "You'll be alright. You'll be alright."

Christian was still dressed, so he bounded down the stairs, his feet nearly slipping out from under him. He flung open the door and ran down the street, not completely familiar with the Italian town. Yet he felt that he could at least manage to make his way to the doctor's home, which was only a block away. The cobblestone streets that were so full of life at daytime were bleak and empty at night and Christian soon realized that he had gotten himself lost. Panting, he turned full circle, trying to gather his bearings. All of a sudden, he heard the faint sound of shoes against the street behind him.

He turned around to find a young woman. "Excuse me, miss?" he asked. "I believe I am lost. Could you please point me in the direction of the town doctor?"

The woman, her chestnut hair cropped short under her chin, glided towards Christian and pressed her breast to his body and sleeked her leg snugly between Christian's thighs. The mysterious woman murmured something in Italian and ran her tongue over her lips.

It didn't take Christian long to realize that he had just brought himself into the company of a prostitute. He wasn't mad, he just felt sorry for the poor girl, knowing the kind of life she lived from his stay at the Moulin Rouge. Sighing, he gently pushed the girl away and shook his head. He had the feeling she didn't speak a word of English, so he would have to rely on other forms of communication.

"My wife," Christian started slowly, pointing to his wedding ring. "She is sick," he coughed and brought his hand to his forehead. "I need the doctor, I'm lost," he decided it was unnecessary to try and look anymore lost than he already did. Christian stared into the woman's eyes, trying to see if anything he said had registered.

The woman's hair swished as she turned around and pointed in the right direction. Christian's eyes lit up, "Thank you!" he cried. He was about to turn on his heels when he fished in his pockets and pulled out some coins. "Here, go buy yourself a hot meal tomorrow," he said.

"Grazie signor," she said with a smile, tucking the coins into her corset.

Christian broke into a jog in the direction the prostitute had pointed him. A stab of fear struck his chest, hoping that he hadn't wasted too much time by so foolishly getting lost. Every second was precious. He almost thought he had gotten himself lost again among the dozens of small buildings and cottages, but when he saw the doctor's name printed on the mailbox in neat, white lettering, he knew he had found the place.

Panic was rising in him again. He was terrified of what could be happening with Satine right now. Pushing that thought aside, Christian reached the doctor's doorstep and began to bang furiously on the door. He waited a moment and knocked again, a bit harder this time. When a full five minutes had passed and not so much as a light had been turned on for him, he began to get irritated.

"For the love of God!" he yelled, banging so hard his knuckles became swollen and red. "I need a doctor!" More knocking. "Would you open the bloody door!!!"

Finally, Christian heard angry footsteps thumping down the stairs. In a few seconds, the door was flung open. "What the hell do you want? I told you I'd be by in the morning!"

"I know, I know! But Signor! Satine, she's-she's not breathing, but she has a pulse! And I thought that maybe if you came now, you could do something!"

The doctor rubbed his eyes and stared into Christian's hopeful ones. "Nothing is any different now than it was when I came by earlier this evening. Satine has consumption; both you and I have tried everything. You're going to have to face the truth! Satine will be dead by morning."

It was all Christian could do to keep from decking the old man in front of him. How dare he have such little faith in his angel!? "Satine is not going to die," Christian growled. "And I'll just have to find someone else to care for her. We will no longer be in need of your services, Signor."

With that, Christian turned and headed back towards Green Sky. He gave a silent prayer that dismissing the doctor wasn't a foolish thing to do. There was no other doctor for miles as far as he knew. But he wouldn't have a doctor that told him to sit and wait for Satine to die.

On his way back home, a cold wind chilled him through and he found himself wishing that he had brought a jacket. Christian was getting genuinely frightened now. He had nowhere else to go besides back home to Satine where he had nothing to give her but his love.

Just as he was about to make his way back up the walkway to the house, Christian glanced at his watch, Quoi Qu'il Arrive… it was four a.m. No, he couldn't give up! Not now, not when she still had a pulse! Wracking his exhausted brain for ideas his attention was drawn to a thin curl of smoke winding out of Sophia's chimney.

"Sophia…" Christian whispered. He didn't think twice before sprinting across his front yard and down the hill, nearly falling on his face. Out of breath, he knocked on the door of Sophia's quaint cottage. Christian prayed she would understand, she was his last hope. She had extended an invite into her home whenever he and Satine needed, but he wasn't so sure the invite was valid in the wee hours of the morning.

Before his thoughts had any more time to run away with him, the door creaked open. Sophia stood before him in a long, billowy nightgown with her hair pulled back in a long braid, as it always was. A worried expression came over her face.

"Christian darling, what's wrong? You look as though you've seen a ghost!"

"It's Satine!" he blurted out, trying to slow his breathing. "The doctor won't come, he's given up. But she still has a pulse. Please…" he whimpered.

"Oh goodness!" Sophia gasped. She looked at the poor, disheveled boy in front of her and his desperate plea for help made her heart ache. She began to bustle about her cottage and said, "You should've come to see me sooner!"

Sophia proceeded to fill Christian's arms with various herbs, salves, medicines and other home remedies. Never leaving home without food, she grabbed a pot, by its large handle, of stew that had been simmering overnight and hurried back towards Christian. She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and was quickly out the door.

Without complaint, Sophia trudged up the hill to Green Sky by Christian's side.

"I'm sorry to have woken you," Christian said without looking at her.

"Now don't think anything of it! I told you I'm always here for you and Satine. I'm happy to help, really."

By this time, the two had made it through the dewy grass and to the front door. Christian opened it with his free hand and began to lead the way upstairs while Sophia kicked the door closed, placed her stew on the stove and hastily followed.

She was greeted with the sight of Christian with his ear pressed against Satine's chest. "The pulse is still there," he said.

"Let me take a look at her," Sophia murmured. She placed a gentle hand on Satine's forehead, feeling for any signs of fever. Instead Satine's skin felt cool, almost not human. Almost as if she were…

"What do you think?" Christian asked, his eyes glistening.

Sophia sighed, "I don't know, Christian. I honestly don't. But I promise, I will stay here as long as you need me to."

Christian nodded and stroked Satine's face. Sophia looked through her collection of remedies until she found a brown paste and opened the lid. She scraped some out of the jar and rubbed it across the soft skin of Satine's chest that was left uncovered by her nightgown.

"Wh-what's that?" Christian asked.

Sophia knew she would have to get used to Christian's questions and answer them patiently. He stared at her, still frightened, waiting for an answer. "It's a very strong herbal crème. If-when Satine starts breathing again, the scent will soothe her and help the cough."

Then Sophia got up and opened the window just enough to get some fresh air circulating. Back at the bed, she tucked Satine's blankets around her chin to warm her. "Is this Satine's medicine?" she asked, holding up a bottle.

"Yes," Christian said.

Sophia then proceeded to unscrew the lid and pour the fluid into a bowl. She added some sticky, golden substance and began mixing it with a small, wooden spoon.

Shyly, Christian asked, "Now what are you doing?"

With a soft smile she replied, "Adding honey. Simply no need to make it taste horrible when she feels bad as it is." She poured the mixture back into the medicine bottle. "I'll never know why those fancy doctors can't add a little something to make it easier on the patient."

Christian couldn't believe it, this woman was an angel. She was giving Satine better medical care than she had ever received and they weren't expected to pay a dime. When he looked back at this miracle worker, she was murmuring something and dangling a chain with a small, gold cross at the end. She pressed the keepsake into Satine's hand and kissed her forehead.

"Thank you," Christian whispered.

"It's my pleasure," Sophia said, her warm smile gracing her face. "Now, stay with your wife, I'm going to go tend to things in the kitchen so you can have a hot meal when you wake up."

Christian nodded and began to take off his shoes but winced at the blisters covering his feet from wearing no socks under his leather loafers.

Sophia was walking out the door when she heard Christian's small yelp. She saw the red welts and said simply, "You need to take care of that. This afternoon you can use an herbal soak of mine. Should be healed up in no time."

Christian smiled and once again expressed his gratitude. "What you've done, for me and Satine…it's wonderful, amazing really. I can't tell you how much it means to us."

Sophia patted his arm and with a whimsical smile pointed towards the bed, indicating for him to get in it. "It's only six, you can still get in a few hours of sleep."

Christian wanted to protest, but sleep hung on his eyelids and all he could do was nod. He gingerly made it to the bed, each step sending a tiny shot of pain through his foot and up his ankles and before he could look back up, Sophia had quietly left and shut the door behind her.

He unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the floor, where it landed in a heap. He crawled into the inviting bed and snuggled into Satine, making sure he could still hear the steady rhythm of her heart. Holding her close and grasping the hand that Sophia had placed the cross in, Christian began to pray so softly that it was barely audible. "Dear God, please don't take Satine away from me. I don't think I could grow old without her. She is my world and I love her so much it hurts. Please, please let her be alright. Please…"

Saying that final plea, Christian fell into dreams, a silent tear rolling down his cheek.

~*~

The next morning when golden rays of light streamed through the curtains, Christian's eyes fluttered open and he smiled when he felt Satine beside him. Deciding that he needed sleep to take him once more, he cradled Satine's face and tucked her so she lay just where his own heart thumped.

He shut his eyes once more, but no sooner had they closed did they snap open again. His entire body trembling, he registered the feathery sensation of warm, steady breath sweeping against his skin.