Author's Note: A little fic about the green fairy, and Christian. It's sad. And it mightn't make sense. And the sky could fall tomorrow.

Tearful eyes, cracked smiles
You just won't believe, what you've seen
Yes, you've forgotten to breathe
And you can't be a hero
Year after year

The fairy flitted about him for the umpteenth time, not even bothering to dance anymore because he doesn't pay attention, his eyes stare openly at her but she knows he can't see her, those pools of grey and blue evaporated a long time ago and are now just empty hollows wet with the sting of salty tears. He sometimes smiles and she knows that the light is reflecting off those tears and he can see the rough image of himself dancing with a figure in red.

The fairy finds it curious, that he's still hanging around in the broken Village of Sin when all that he had has gone and left him behind. She watches him as he sleeps through her confines in the green bottles of syrupy poison. She knows when he dreams of his lover because tears filter out from his closed eyes, she knows when he's stopped breathing because he moves suddenly and sharply across the mattress and gasps in mouthfuls of the stale air in his room.

And she knows, in the morning when he wakes and settles himself in the rickety old chair in front of a quickly rusting typewriter, that he's trying to be a hero for her and write that old love story.

There's only open wounds
Without a word to say
You've hit the floor now
There's ice all through your hair
But when you don't cry
That's the only difference today
You're finally falling away

The fairy counts the seasons, counts the days until the snow will fall from the sky again and the roads will become icy and cold. She counts the hours until winter, it is the hardest time for him, she knows. He wanders the courtyard of the old Rouge – now slowly rotting to the ground – and the fairy is always with him, in the form of a bottle in his shaking hand. He will drink the liquid down until it burns his throat, numbs his heartbeats and finally loosens his bones so he crumples down and lands in the blanket of snow covering the once glittering courtyard.

The fairy hovers above his eluded form as his brain drifts off to sleep, she almost wishes she could reach out and touch that cold face, unconscious face of his and brush the snowflakes from his black chocolate hair, but instead she hovers and dances around him until her poison has worn off in his veins and she fades away again. She knows that as he sleeps unnaturally in the courtyard, risking pneumonia, the blood pumping idly through his veins practically dyed green from the liquid he consumed, that the tears won't slither from his eyes to freeze on his cheeks. Instead he will squander and float around in blackness hoping never to wake again.

Fate said you were mismatched all through
You're too much of a dreamer
And she was all reality
Fate crossed her name off the stars
You smiled the last smile
And ran away

When he wakes in the morning, the fairy is gone. She doesn't hear the coughs racking his empty lungs, it seems he wasn't risking pneumonia anymore, he was living with it. He struggles to his feet, leaving imprints in the snow from where he lay to be filled again by the new falling snow – mending the tranquil white blanket for when he returns again.

He'll meander through the slippery streets and find himself another bottle for another winter's night in the cold and abandoned grounds of the Moulin Rouge, until one winter's night, just like that fateful one long ago when his lover died, the snow will cover him up and the fairy will stop dancing early because the blood glowing green will have stopped flowing through his broken, blackened heart.

You've finally fallen away