The summer was dwindling down, the leaves changing from a lush green to the vibrant colors familiar of fall. It was late September again in Montmartre.

So much had changed in Christian's life in the past month alone. After proclaiming his love for Loreena, she moved in with him. He couldn't have been more happier.

As far as Satine, she stopped visiting Christian in his dreams. He now slept peacefully every night next to his beloved Loreena. His mind hardly, if ever, wondered to the thought of Satine. He still kept the picture of her Zidler had given him, but only as a way to look back every now and again. His world completly revolved around Loreena andvery littleelse.

It was morning, the time about 8 am. Christian's eyes peeped open. Sunlight was streaming in across the bed. He looked over at Loreena who was curled up, still peacefully asleep. She was one of the few people he had ever seen who'd looked so absolutly beautiful just lying there, eyes closed, off in dreamland. A tiny smile came across his face. It had been about a year since he first met Loreena, since she first said hello scaring him half to death. The thought caused him to chuckle at himself.

Carefully rising from the bed, he pulled the sheet back up, making sure Loreena was covered. The wheels in his mind were already turning.

Since this was sort of an unofficial "anniversary", Christian had wanted to do something really special for Loreena. Dressing himself in the other room, he grabbed some money and was on his way. Perhaps if he hurried, he could get done what he had to do and return to Loreena as she was just waking up. He had a list of things he wanted to get done, all things for her. First, he wanted to stop by the flower shop and pick up the usuall bouqet of flowers he always got her. Then, he wanted to stop by the jewelers to pick up a necklace she had spoted in the window earlier that week. Christian also wanted to check with a popular French restaurant to make sure his reservations were intact for that evening. He had written her poem, his best yet, and he couldn't wait to recite it to her after their meal. Lastly, to finish the evening off, they were going to go to the Moulin Rouge for some late-night dancing. It was going to be splendid, she'd love it, he knew it.

Happily, Christian walked down the street, stopping by the flower shop, checking into the restaurant, going on his way to the jewelers. Townspeople passed his way, nodding here and there. Sunlight filled the streets. Everything seemed almost too perfect.

He turned down an alley way as a short cut to the jewelry shop. He began to whistle.

Suddenly, considering he had actually felt pretty good and full of energy, Christian's body began to feel as if it was heavily weighed down. He couldn't understand why he all of a sudden felt this way , but he was also having trouble breathing, his vision becoming hazy, his head dizzy. Getting increasingly disoriented by the second, he steadied himself by leaning against the side of a building. Something was terribly wrong. His chest ached, right near his lungs, and he started to violently cough. He needed help. He tried to yell out but no one replied or came. Falling to his knees, the coughing continued, Christian had no control over it. "Help..." he gasped. A warm metallic tasting liquid filled his mouth. He spat it out on the ground, seeing to his horror it was blood. "No." he muttered. He was loosing consciousness, fading into oblivion. As his head hit the cold pavement, the last thing he saw was the figure of someone sprinting towards him calling for help. Then darkness.

Christian was waking and could feel his body occupying an area of lightless space. A twing of panic flew through him and he didn't know what to do. He asked out, "Where am I?" but to only one around him, they heard it as nothing buta jumbled mess ofslurred words.

"Shhh." said an unknown voice. The light was starting to seep in around Christian's eyes, the darkness retreating.

His sight was still fuzzy, but he was feeling a little better. His head pointed in the direction the voice had come from.

"Shhh...just relax...drink some of this." A disgusting sour liquid poured into Christian's mouth, and he still couldn't see who this unknown speaker was. Finally, after a few minutes, he saw that an elderly gentleman was sitting next to him with a damp cloth for placing on top of Christian's forehead. He knew who this man was. It was none other than the very same doctor who he had come to for help with Loreena, the same man who had taken her in and adopted her as his daughter. Christian must've been showing a rather strange expression for the doctor suddlenly paused and asked what was wrong. "Eh nothing." Christian lied. "Nothing at all." Did this man realize who Christian was? Did he remember him?

As if he could read his mind, the doctor spoke up saying, "Yes, I remember you. You're the gent that brought my little Loreena to me right? She's living with you now isn't she?"

Christian nodded even though there were a handful of other things he wanted to rather say instead. His eyes searched for a clock.

"It's about 8:30." He said. This was slightly bizzare.

"Wait! No!" Christian protested, taking the cloth off his forehead. "Sir, I have to go! Please, excuse me!"

Before he had the chance to get off the bed, the doctor gruffly held him down. "No, you're still weak.You should stay. I need to talk to you anyways."

"No, really, I feel much better. Please, whatever it is, can't it wait? I have to go."

"No, I insist that you stay." The doctor gave Christian a grave look. "It's important. You should at least stay so I have a chance to tell you something. It's very serious."

Christian sat back down feeling the familiar pain in his chest, reminding of why he was here in the first place. The doctor took off his glasses.

"There's no easy way to say this, but...you're very sick." Christian already knew he had been for awhile.

"I know, it's probably from that small case of the flu I had. I've had this cough for months. It can be cured though right? He asked.

The doctor's face became even more shallow. "I don't think you get what I'm saying..."

Christian wasn't trying to be nieve, he was just playing it. He knew very well what the doctor's words were going to be even before the doctor himself knew how to say them. He didn't know what emotion to feel other than a sickening dread.

The doctor shook his head. "Christian...that's your name right?...Your case is very bad...chance of recovery is not promising...you are...you're probably going to die." Hearing these words was extremely heartwrenching. "You have teberculosus. Your lungs are filling with blood. Possibly you knew someone who had it and came in contact with?"

Christian didn't say anything at all. He understood.

"You have a few months, at most to live." Christian began to shake. He couldn't take it.

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!" he yelled. "Just..." but he didn't finish. He stood up noticing his coat on a chair by the door.

"Please, I insist! Stay here for at least the night! I'll reach Loreena and tell her where you are!"

Christian was horror stricken. "NO! DON'T!" She couldn't know of this. "Please, you haven't contacted her, have you?"

"No."

"All I ask of you, please,... don't tell her. I don't want her to know." The doctor followed him right to the door, still pleading with him to stay a while longer. Christian payed no attention. He was leaving. All he wanted was to see Loreena.

"But please! You shouldn't be up and about for at least a night! Get some rest!" Christian shoved the man out of his way.

The doctors words were fizzing into the night air. He couldn't bare to listen to them anymore. All he could hear in his own head was the same voice repeating over and over, "You're going to die. You're going to die. You're going to die..."

"No." He said.Christian couldn't accept this.

"You have a few months, at most to live. A few months. A few months..."

Covering his ears, Christian cowered into a deserted street corner sobbing. He had to get his anger out now so hecould be strong for Loreena later on.

It seemed that for hours Christian wandered the streets aimlessly looking for an answer. An answer to what, he didn't know. With his tears dry, he just walked in silence taking in the sights of the nightlife on the Paris streets. Around him, everything lived, everything breathed. He hated how his life would be cut short too soon. Life wasn't fair.

A small boy cluelessly ran into him. He couldn't have been any older than 8.

"I'm sorry sir. I did not see you." And then he ran away. Christian watched as he ran, melting into the darkness. Like the boy, Christian's very own hopes and plans for the future were being consumed into shadow. A soft breeze blew tossing some papers into the wind.

The time was very late when Christian returned home. He opened the door to see Loreena sitting at the table, hands folded in front of her. She immidietly looked up.

"Christian?"

"Loreena."

"Christian,...where have you been all day? I didn't know where you were, I was worried sick." She rose to her feet, fleeing into his open arms. Her face sunk into him.

"Lora, I'm sorry... It's a long story." His expression was passive as he tightly hugged her. "I got caught up, that's all."