A/N: ok this is my second Moulin Rouge fic and this will be a chapter fic. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Moulin Rouge…(not even the DVD…-tear-)

Christian looked up blindly. He saw out of tear filled eyes everybody standing around silently watching him. He cried out everything he had and his head throbbed. But that couldn't even compare with the pain he felt in his heart. Satine was dead. She was gone forever, never coming back. His darling Satine, the love of his life, lay limp in his arms. He glanced down at her and it surprised him that even in death she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. And as he held her he heard her voice ringing in his head,

"You've got to go on Christian…"

How could he go on? How could he go on when all he believed in, all he focused his life upon is dead. And because of this something inside of him died- he wasn't exactly sure what it was, but he knew something died along with his sparkling diamond.

It wasn't fair! Why her? Why now? She was so young; she had her whole life ahead of her- a life with him! He felt emotion welling up inside him but nothing would come out. He was empty. His throat tightened but the only sound that escaped from him was a low, mournful whine. He started to rock her again; with the thought that maybe it might conjure her back to life. Of course that did not work.

Suddenly he felt deceived. All he heard about love, all he read, wasn't true. His father would babble on about how ridiculous his obsession with love was and about how love wasn't the most important thing in the world. Of course Christian didn't believe him at the time. All the stories he heard! Love over coming all obstacles.

Yeah…so much for that! Oh yes, he and Satine had over come obstacles such as the Duke, Zidler…but not death.

His mother always told stories to him at night about love creating miracles and bringing loved ones back to life. And when she passed away when he was nine years old, he got the notion that if his father loved his mother enough that she would come back to life. But he knew his father did not love his mother and much as a husband should love a wife. So he knew that his mother would not be coming back.

But now he realized that all those stories his mother read him were nothing but fantasies…made up tales to bring up the spirits of children until they grow up and face the real world and get all their childish dreams crushed into a thousand pieces.

He had to get out of here. He had to get out of there fast. He slowly got to his feet, his whole body was numb and he wobbled on his feet for a minute. After he caught balance he approached Harold but he didn't look him in the eyes. He swallowed and handed Satine's limp form over to him. As he turned to leave he caught a glimpse of the manager's face. It was full of remorse. He approached the curtain slowly and saw out of the corner of his eye Toulouse and the Bohemians gathered around in a corner. Toulouse caught his gaze for a moment and took a step towards Christian.

Something snapped in Christian and suddenly he pushed the curtain open and sprinted off the stage.

"Christian!" Toulouse called after him.

But Christian would not listen. He ignored the stares of what was left of the audience as he ran down the aisle with an inhumane speed. As he approached the doors to the Moulin Rouge he heard Toulouse's voice scream his name again. He pushed the doors open and they slammed against the wall. He didn't even feel the rain pouring down from the skies as he tore down the streets of Montemarte. He ran in such a haze that he wasn't watching where he was going and tripped over a stone at the side of the road. He felt himself go down but couldn't feel the pain of his body hitting the concrete. He picked up his head and looked around the dark streets. What's the use? He told himself and let his head fall back to the ground. He blinked a few times and shook as the rain pelted on him and soaked him to the bone. Finally he couldn't keep himself awake and closed his eyes and succumbed to the ever present darkness.

A/n: yes I realize that was short…and a bit depressing as well…poor Christian. –tear-