I'll Always Protect You

Erika R. Baker

Musain 1828

Grantaire first met Gavroche when he was ushered into the Musain by Feuilly. His eyes lit up for the first time in a long while when he saw the child's enthusiasm. It was one of those rare times he wasn't drinking. His funds had run out and he still wanted to eat; he wasn't as stupid as Enjolras seemed to think.

Gavroche had never had an older brother, a mother, or a father to look up to. Eponine was tough but she wasn't exactly parent material. He needed someone and Feuilly, being the observer he was, thought Gavroche might be a nice addition to the little group of revolutionaries. If only to keep them positive and remind them of their goals.

Gavroche was introduced to Enjolras. Enjolras smiled fondly but went back to his work soon after. It was then that Feuilly introduced Gavroche to Grantaire.

The look that they shared made Feuilly smile. Gavroche strode over to Grantaire in a more innocent way than he had ever before. He was very young at this time. He was only about four. His eyes shone brightly up at Grantaire.

It was the first time, or the first time Grantaire remembered actually feeling responsible for something. He'd never actually had anything to care for but Feuilly smiled at him.

"I trust I can put him in your care for now and he's not going to end up intoxicated with in a few seconds."

Grantaire simply nodded and let Gavroche sit on his lap. It was then that Gavroche became well acquainted with what smells he should fear. Grantaire often smelled like sweet red wine with a hint of cheep booze. When his father was drunk he smelled cheep brandies and other cheep liqueurs.

He also knew, after a few months, a drunk Grantaire was a very silly companion whom he had wrapped around his pinky finger, and a sober Grantaire was the most insightful and loving older brother and father that Gavroche could have ever wanted.

Gavroche looked up to Enjolras but Enjolras never had time for him. Grantaire put down whatever he was doing with out even a heartbeat passing to help him with whatever he needed.

. . .

Musain 1832

Gavroche wiped the tears from his eyes. Lamarque was dead. He had to tell Enjolras but he was so upset he barely saw the door.

"Listen!" He shouted through his tears. "Listen everybody!" He shouted. "General Lamarque is dead." The cafe was very silent. Enjolras lifted him off the table he'd just climbed on and patted his shoulder. He'd learned not to expect comfort from Enjolras. So, when Enjolras began to talk about how they would start their revolution he ran. He ran quickly right into Grantaire's awaiting arms.

Grantaire sometimes despised the way Enjolras showed no feeling. He worshiped him but there was that small part of him that he was very glad was his own. When Enjolras began to speak Gavroche's small arm went up in the air just as the other men's arms did. Grantaire didn't want Gavroche to do this. To become part of this revolution that had only begun being planned four years earlier was suicidal and he knew it. He wasn't about to let Gavroche suffer for other people's stupidity. He would let himself but that was only because of the glimmer of hope he saw in Gavroche's future.

He may have been a cynic, partiality, he liked more to think of himself as sarcastic and witty. Sure, he could say some pretty cynical things when he was intoxicated but with Gavroche around him that was less and less often. He also began to observe what some people called cynicism and pessimism he and many others called realism. His feet were tied firmly to the ground and he wished others could see it too.

He then let his mind wander to the poet Jehan. He even looked doubtful and yet all the same excited for this blood bath. They all were. It was in his own private corner, with his own private lamp light on him that Grantaire stood with his arms around Gavroche's shoulders trying to shield him from the imaginary bullets that were whizzing all around them in Grantaire's mind. He looked up to see Enjolras as angelic as ever staring into the light coming from an open window.

Gavroche looked to Grantaire he didn't sing like all the other men did. He looked frightened. Gavroche wrapped his arms around Grantaire's legs, for it was all the gamin could reach, and hugged him tightly. Grantaire was only slightly reassured by the gesture and rubbed Gavroche's back gently.

"In the battle to come," he whispered, "Stick close to me, I'll always protect you."

"Oi will, Oi promise 'Taire."

"Good."

So you know me when I see Les Mis I ALWAYS see something I like. I really enjoyed in this version the way they portrayed Grantaire's protectiveness over Gavroche so this is my VERY FIRST multi-chapter Les Mis fic.