-Permanent Scar-

A/N- Lazy me has decided that this shall be the final chapter! :( Not my best I admit, but BLEH...

Disclaimer- The Moulin Rouge is not mine -tear- but the genius' Baz Luhrmann... So there...

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April 10th, 1912,

The Titanic. Some say she is unsinkable.

Today is the day the Titanic begins her maiden voyage. Rising up majestically above all others, she waits patiently as families and couples board her in the hundreds. There is a distinct smell of decaying fish lingering in the humid air, but no one notices. This was a day to remember.

The port swells as carts, cars and families pour in from all directions to see off their loved ones, or some just to see this legendary ship take off. People wave frantically with their handkerchiefs to anyone in sight, all there to celebrate. The buzz of activity is brilliant as crowds move to and fro. Their voices could be heard a mile away.

But there was one who didn't hear a thing; the whole spectacle fell on blind eyes and deaf ears; everything muffled. No one glimpsed this coated figure boarding the Titanic or took any notice, he was like every other person there, just one of the crowd. But if they had cared and taken a look closer, they would have noticed that his shoulders were slumped and head bowed, with his bowler hat shading his dull grey eyes as he looked up at the ship.

This was his chance of a new life. He didn't even look back as he boarded and left his old life behind.

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103... 105... 107... 109...111... Room 121; a fair sized room designed for the middle class, nothing too elaborate. After turning several corners and bashing into several people he finally reached his destination. Dumping what little possessions he owned onto a wooden chair in the corner he slumped onto his bed and silently let the tears that had been welling up inside him trickle slowly down his cheek. He was so alone.

Hearing a timid knock at the door and the door handle squeak in protest, Christian quickly turned, facing his back to the door, he didn't want anyone to pity him.

'Hello?' inquired a voice, 'Are you my room companion?'

Not answering Christian just nodded and gestured roughly to the empty bed opposite him.

'Okay then...' said the voice, 'nice ship isn't she? Did you know that they say she is unsinkable?'

A slight nod, then silence.

'Right-o... I see that you might want some peace to yourself, so... I will, just... go... I'll be back soon though if you want anything...' the voice trailed off, 'okay then... bye, for the moment...'

Hearing the door click shut and the fading of footsteps. Christian turned around and buried his head in his hands, letting out a silent sob. For around twelve years he had tried to let go of Satine's presence but for some reason he couldn't, she was always there, lingering at the edge of his mind; but now he was on this ship destined for New York. He was finally letting go.

Looking across the room Christian noted that the other person had a fair amount of luggage, and that all of it good quality, some worth a small fortune. Trusting isn't he, mused Christian, or new to this... Though outside Christian still dressed well, often gaining glances from ladies around the place, inside he felt empty; he would keep on recalling that fateful day which had changed his life, and at night time when alone, he would dream over and over again that he would be chasing Satine on the hill; always chasing. Never reaching; the same thing every night. He felt wrecked.

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April 14th, 1912,

For four days his companion had managed to avoid speaking or even looking at him. Respecting this wish for privacy the Duke had made no attempt at finding out more about him, even though there was something slightly familiar about him, his hair and build kept on making the Duke think over and over again about whether he had bumped into him at the port or somewhere else. For some nights now, thoughts would circle in his head over and over again, he would fall asleep and sometimes have nightmares of that day. After that day he had gone back to the Moulin Rouge for the last time and withdrawn his investment or any contact he had with that place, and for the next twelve years he had wondered from place to place to see all of those from his past which he had so thoughtlessly ruined, to try and make up, or at least in some anonymous way support them. But there was one that he could never bring himself to find. Seeing all of these events flash by in his mind night after night he would usually wake up in the middle of the night with horror. He was never at peace, his doctor said that he was having anxiety dreams, its work, its just the work he would tell himself over and over again. Who was he trying to fool? - Is it though, just the work? Of course, yes of course it is... - Are you sure? Yes! - Of course you are, thats why you talk to yourself in the middle of the night, thats why... 'Argh! No, no, no... Quiet!'

Waking up suddenly, the Duke felt sleepily for his watch under his pillow and swung himself out of bed, knowing that it was going to be useless to try and go to sleep again. Its been like this for sometime, and there was nothing he could do, - really? Oh just shut up... While dressing, the Duke looked out at the sea, I wonder where we are now? he mused. Getting up he glanced at his watch in the moonlight: 11:34pm, great... only to have his thoughts cut off by hear a quiet moan and a rustle of sheets behind him. Spinning around, the Duke peered into the darkness to see nothing for a while as his eyesbadjusted to the dim light, but slowly he saw the shape of the only other person there. Seeing the faint outline of his companion made something inside him fluttered nervously. It can't be! No... Straining his eyes further the Duke made out the further details, the slight strands of hair that still hung over his eyes even in sleep, the same expression on his face as if in deep thought... Gasping, the Duke felt for something solid to support him, out of all of the rooms, he had to be with the one person he had been avoiding, but wanting to see for those twelve years! Oh what? Confused thoughts bashed his mind like a thousand hammers till he could take it no more. Crying out he fell to the floor whimpering, hands pressed against his ears.

'No...' he heard that voice call out, 'It can't be...'

Glancing up the Duke saw Christian's pale face staring straight at him. He had already got up and dressed, and was leaning against the door with his hand on the handle staring straight at him.

'You! But... no, it can't be, it can't be...' he repeated to himself. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The kind person that had been his room companion for four days, the one that sometimes offered him snacks, the one that had made him feel so guilty every time he avoided speaking or even glancing in his direction. But he felt no revenge, only a emptiness.

'I must be having a nightmare... it can't be...'

Seeing Christian again only made the Duke feel sorrow, regret and an overwhelming sadness. 'No, no... Quiet!' he cried. Hearing this Christian snapped out of his trance like state and just stared at him, his stormy grey eyes threatening to burn a hole in him. 'No, no...' how do I say this? 'First things first...' said the Duke, more authority in his voice than ever before, 'you are not dreaming. It is... 11:39pm and...'

'No, no no...' moaned Christian. 'I boarded this ship so then I would have the chance of a new life. So why the h...' But suddenly there was a deafening screech and the ship jerked sharply backwards, Christian flew across the room, knocking his head on the sharp edge of the table.

Eyes wide and alert the Duke, safely wedged in a corner of the room quickly scanned the scene. 'What the...' Oh God... glancing around him he saw Christian's limp form lying on his side half hidden under a fallen table, chair and luggage with a deep and bloody wound in the side of his head. 'Christian... oh God...' reaching over he felt relief wash over him as he heard a groan, accompanied by a string of colourful curses and the pile shifting slightly.

'No, no. Don't move, I'll be just a tick...' getting up he started quickly pulling off the items.

'No! Stop, leave. Go, I don't need your help.' barked Christian, though everything around him was slowly starting to turn cloudy and black. Feeling something cool trickle against the side of his head he knew that he had lost a lot of blood. Struggling under the enormous weight he let out a sharp cry of pain and surprise as a sickening crack sounded from somewhere under the pile. Oww...

'No! Don't move or resist!' cried the Duke, he felt like screaming out at him, he was so stubborn! Yet Christian still fruitlessly struggled. The ship was gradually starting tilting at an alarming angle.

'Leave,' breathed Christian, his strength was slowly leaving him. Outside he could hear the panicked screams and the thunder of hurried footsteps. Everyone else was leaving.

'Don't be a fool!' muttered the Duke. 'For your sake, don't move!' But still he struggled, seeing his attempts weakening the Duke felt a feeling of hopelessness. He won't listen to me... he doesn't trust me! - Well, can you blame him? Try harder... 'For Christ's sake, stop!' But still Christian kicked out, - Pathetic! Harder... 'Okay then... for Satine's sake! Think Christian, do you think that she would want this? Huh, answer my question goddamn it!' he cried, 'Well! What? No, you see now?' Seeing a lone tear trickle out of the corner of Christian's eye the Duke knew that he had won. 'Give me your hand then, can you do that?' Reaching down again he felt a sense of dread as he heard the sounds outside their door dying down and Christian shake his head desperately as he realised that his hand was stuck beneath him.

'No...' he whispered. Looking up he tried to make eye contact with the Duke, who was just a blur of colour now, 'I'm sorry, I can't,' his voice sounded hoarse, every breath made him wince from the sharp stab of pain, 'I understand now... go, please.'

Seeing this, the Duke knew that nothing could be done. Bending down he brushed the edge of Christian's hair as a last goodbye. Turning around, he quietly closed the door... 'I'll find help, I promise!'

Seconds merged into minutes, minutes to hours; as time flowed by darkness slowly took hold of his vision and he let himself drift. He felt numb, the coldness had dulled his senses, and the pain; he had stopped struggling long ago. He was on the edge of life and death now; and he knew it. The icy water was lapping around him, slowly getting higher and higher as if hungry for his soul, though he couldn't feel a thing. Looking upwards he saw a faint, but pure light and outline. - Satine. Looking up he tried to hold her, to touch her, he could smell that familiar perfume and see those well loved eyes look sadly down at him. - Take me, please! But she just slowly shook her head, letting her hair fall over her eyes. - Hello Christian. She smiled, but just like last time the smile didn't reach her eyes. - Rules and regulations, remember how they held us back even when we were together? She nodded, - yes, well even now they're holding us back, isn't that funny? - What do you mean? He cried, desperation flowing through him. - You've got another chance Christian, look up. Looking up he realised that he was now fully submerged, the tangy taste of salt was in his mouth and burning his eyes. Though nothing was on top of him, they had drifted off. How strange... He could now see himself as if from a Birdseye view, as if he had two senses. God! My arm doesn't look right, and neither does my leg... Funny that... Turning around he saw Satine there, as if she had never left him. - No! A look of intense sadness crossed her eyes. Hey, no! She was running. Running and running, and just like his dreams he could never reach her. - Look up! Up Christian! Wake up!

Consciousness sparked in him, confusing, consuming. Water, light... happiness... Looking up he felt what seemed to be the weight of the entire ocean on him. Bubbles.

There was also a gap in the wall where the pressure had been too much for the window; just big enough for him to get through. Kicking out he saw a vastness of deep blue around him. No, he could feel his strength leaving him as he pushed.

Bodies. Floating, some disfigured, their bloated blue forms bobbing gently on the surface. Screaming with effort and fear Christian kicked out one last time, bubbles hurried past him in their race to the surface. It wasn't enough.

- For me Christian, here, take my hand. The voice whispered. Closing his eyes Christian reached up... to feel someone clasp his hand and hull him up and out.

Coughing and gasping for air he looked up to see eyes looking down at him.

- Goodbye Christian...

'No, no...'

'Dear God, Christian!' looking up again he saw the Duke's concerned eyes peering down at him. 'God, you're shivering... Here...' Taking off his coat the Duke swung them around Christian's shivering shoulders.

Looking around him he saw that he was on a floating board, and beside him was the Duke, but the once hated face now made him feel nothing. No sadness, no revenge. Nothing.

'Thank you.' he whispered.

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A/N- Now go and be a good chappy/lass and submit a review...