To Be Rewritten

by

Shamaho

Rating: PG-13- subject to change

Disclaimer- I do not own Moulin Rouge or any of it's characters, however, anyone or place not from the film does belong to me, and I will fight for them. All songs are from the film and belong to various peoples, unless there is an before the dialogue, which means they are my work and if you want to use them, ask me first!

Guidelines: Some swearing and sexuality, may become gruesome or a bit smutty, so if not the entire story, some chapters will be R.

Summary: Half of the story rewritten, what if Satine were never dying in the first place? Of course, the ending will change after such a deletion.

Told as if it were Christian's story, then fade into the movie, and back and forth in such a manner.

Note for this chapter: Asthma was first discovered in the fifteenth century and only recently have very effective treatments (inhalers) come about. Bronchial asthma, which affects the muscles, was being diagnosed as early as 1881.

Harold Zidler's brilliant lies had once again averted disaster. But he wasn't sure how brilliant of a lie, could save Satine. He'd met the doctor and Marie in Satine's quarter's that same night once the Duke had gone to rest. It would appear to be grim, the doctor was not smiling, and Satine was still blanketed in the cold of isolation, but upon Zidler's entrance . . . .

"Monsieur Zidler," Monsieur le Doctor began slowly. "Mademoiselle Satine is, not quite as ill as you may have thought, it is not consumption, but a condition we've come to know as asthma." Zidler blinked, confused, and Marie made a grateful, yet unsure sign of the cross. "Instead of anything growing in her lungs, the tubes that lead to her lungs tighten every so often, it's to prevent allergens from getting into her lungs, but her tubes don't know when to open themselves." Zidler nodded. "What do we do?"

"Well for starters, don't lace her corsets quite as tightly, I know in this business that is important, but, it cuts off her air supply, and give her this, it seems to help, just have her inhale it twice a day, burn it to make smoke for her to inhale, not like a cigarette's smoke, but rather through her open mouth as it burns." He handed them some ground something or other. "It's the best we can do."

"Thank you, and, when will she be up?"

"As I told Mlle. Marie here, the morning, at the earliest."

"Yes, thank you, again."

The two watched the doctor leave, then looked at Satine, who stirred slightly in her sleep, Harold sighed. "Thank God, I don't know what would have happened if Satine were . . . you know, dying . . ."

"Lets not think about that. In the morning I'll give her her medication and be looser on her corset."

"Don't make her wear one tomorrow, there's no reason."

All night, the penniless sitar player had waited, and now, for the first time, he felt the cold stab of jealousy.

Christian gazed up from the typewriter when Satine's soft, wheezing cough greeted him. He watched her a brief moment, the beauty of her long, wavy red hair and her sapphire blue eyes entranced him yet. He swallowed past a nervous lump and asked. "Where were you last night?"

She glanced up at him, surprised by the suddenness of the question. Her head fell again briefly as she answered. "I told you," she gazed up at him with a false smile. "I was sick."

He was disappointed in her, that she still would not be able to tell the truth, meet his eyes and tell him the full truth. He moved to the bed quietly, sat next to her and touched her hand. "You don't have to lie to me." He promised, examining her as she sat in her own world.

She shook her head, closing her eyes. "We have to end it," she tearfully gazed at him. "Everyone knows. Harold knows." To her, as he could tell, Harold Zidler was an almighty god whom could tell her how to live. To Christian, he had done it for too long. "Sooner or later the Duke will find out too." She added finally. She saw the sad, set features that covered his face and she frowned, her voice broke as she said. "On opening night I have to sleep with the Duke." Her voice softened greatly, she stood and added. "And the jealousy will drive you mad."

Angered by this accusation and by the fact that she did have to sleep with the Duke, it was her promise in the Elephant, he slammed down his pad and stormed outside to the faux balcony, made his way around through the other side as he thought, heard her whisper. "Christian . . ."

He came up behind her. "Then I'll write a song." He exclaimed, disappointed to see her turn away. "A-and we'll put it in the show," she tried to convince him otherwise but he continued as he held and kissed her. "And no matter how bad things get or whatever happens. When you hear it," a kiss, "or whistle it or hum it," to more kisses," Mm, you'll know what it means, it'll mean we love each other." He said, burying his face in her neck. "I won't get jealous."

"Things don't work that way, Christian." She warned him lightly, turning to look outside. "We have to end it."

Desperately searching for something in his soul, he watched her in the early sunlight. "If . . . if that's how you feel why don't you leave me then? If you don't love me why don't you leave?"

"I never said I wanted to, I never said I didn't love you."

"Then it's all going to be all right. As long as we have each other."

She still stared at the sun, and so he found some words to start himself off.

"Never knew I could feel like this
Like I've never seen the sky before
I want to vanish inside your kiss
Seasons may change, winter to spring
But I Love You, until the end of time

Come what may
Come what may
I will Love You
Until my dying day."

As if the music had sunk into her heart, and the words were telepathic, Satine began to sing along, and they would sing this song all over, on excursions with the Duke, at rehwarsal, and here, in the place he had learnt to call home.

"Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place
Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste
It all revolves around you

And there's no mountain too high
No river too wide
Sing out this song,
I'll be there by your side

Storm clouds may gather
And stars may collide
But I Love You, I Love You,
Until the end of time

Come what may, come what may, I will Love You
The greastest thing you'll ever learn...
I will Love You, Come what may, Yes, I will Love You
Come what may, I will Love You, Til my dying day."

Once, for the first time of many, the song had ceased, she turned, tears running down her face. "Oh, Christian."

"Satine." He murmured as she hurried into his arms, he soothed her, caressed her lovingly as she cried against him.

"I don't know what to do, I never know what to do anymore, not since I, not since I loved you."

He grinned, kissed the nape of her neck and gripped her shoulders to look at her as he brought her away. "We'll get through this together, as long as we hasve each other, Satine."

She smiled, wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. "As long as we . . . as long as we have each other." She agreed. "Come what may."

First Moulin Rouge fic, how's it going? Please review!